Fearless Expectations Journal - Zoran

[Kaleia]

This is my first emulation of BIGWooly's Hardcore roleplay. Restriction ideas, with tweaks, are mostly copied from BIGWooly's list. Much thanks to BIGWooly for the inspiration.

The journal chronicling the physical and mental journey of a troubled youth towards the uncertain future.

Race&Gender: Imperial Male

Background will be in second post.

BUILD

Skyrim Perk Calculator - Plan the perks for your Skyrim character before spending them!

PLAY RESTRICTIONS
- proceed through the game intro and then leave the cave with NOTHING
- difficulty set to 'master'
- HUD set to 0%
- brightness dropped down 2 notches
- only carry 30% of what game allows
- only carry 30 arrows max
- must fully sheath weapon to use a potion
- must have a hand free to pick anything up
- must not move around crouched for unreasonable amounts of time
- may not harvest unreasonable items (if a dead elk has a garnet don't take it)
- may not activate overpowered/unrealistic perks (like conditioning; heavy armor weighs nothing)
- must sleep for at least 8 hours every day (allowed to make rare exceptions)
- must eat 3 meals a day (allowed to make rare exceptions)
- must always carry clothing (worn under armor)
- may not use smithing or enchanting (must find/purchase all gear)
- may not swim while wearing armor
- may not enter freezing water unless on a horse
- may not use in-game map unless at a known location
- may not fast travel (except by cart)
- may not use exploits
- may not cut wood for money
- if you set off a trap and it injures you then you are dead
- may only use manual saves after sleeping (resting)
- when character dies must load from the most recent save
- if character dies must return to an inn and wait (recover) for 7 days
- must spend 300 gold with the innkeep to cover room and board

- a mercenary's fee is for (1) 24-hour period
- a companion may carry 10% of your carry ability
- companions must be fed 3 meals per day
- when a companion/mercenary dies they are dead, no save loading

- a horse may carry 10% of your own carry ability
- you may not access the 10% that your horse is carrying during combat
- when carrying items back to your horse you may not use sneak or have a weapon drawn
- horse must be fed 5 points of health per day (it is assumed horse will also eat grass)
- if horse dies it is dead, no save loading

CHARACTER SPECIFIC RESTRICTIONS
- close combat is to be avoided if possible (game animals do not count for this rule)
- not allowed to use magic other than Shouts, Racial Power, and Conjuration
- only allowed to use magic from one school
- must carry clothing with you at all times
- use only a bow as your primary weapon (may have a dagger as backup)
- may poison multiple arrows if decided prior to combat, decision cannot be adjusted
- only allowed to carry 2000 gold

 

[Kaleia]

BACKGROUND


Zoran was born in the Cyrodiil to a troubled family. His mother was nowhere to be found more often than not, and his father spent long hours training the children of nearby families as soldiers. Thus, Zoran was left alone often as a child, or in the care of an elderly neighbor when he was lucky. From a young age, Zoran was plagued by nightmares, and developed many fears as a result. His father was forced to forgo swordsmanship training for Zoran, as Zoran's paralyzed terror earned him a few scars before the problem was realized. Zoran retreated deeper into his own mind as his community learned to pass him by. Alone and without resources to teach himself much of anything, Zoran was left to try to deal with his fears and confusions whilst tending crops for his family.

One day, Zoran wandered from the farm in pursuit of a calf that had escaped through a hole in the fencing. He caught up to it within a mile of the farm, but even there adventure found him. A shallow but wide stream greeted him, and Zoran found himself paralyzed with fear of it, inconsistent images of watery danger flooding through his mind at the sight.

Then, Zoran's daze was broken by a new sight - a stranger on the other side, gently restraining the calf from it's wandering. The stranger, a tall and golden-skinned mer, said nothing at first, instead observing Zoran's sweaty and anxious face.

"Are you afraid of me?"

Zoran had never been faced with such a question, and was suddenly reluctant to admit his fear of the water. He shook his head. "It's nothing. I've just never...seen..."

"An Altmer, " said the stranger. "Do you never go outside?"

Laoan, as it turned out the Altmer was called, had been called upon by Zoran's father to act as a tutor to the lad. Laoan later revealed to Zoran that he and Zoran's father had become good friends during the war, resulting in a strange series of events that ended with Laoan leaving the Aldmeri Dominion forever.

Laoan began to learn magic and history from the Altmer, as well as ways to fight his fearful nature. A few years after Laoan arrived, Zoran left with him for Skyrim, heart filled with the intent to help his mentor strengthen the Empire against the menace of the Thalmor.

But it was not to be. Near the border, the pair were attacked by Thalmor wizards. Zoran watched, frozen in terror, as his mentor was rendered unconscious and dragged into the bushes. Zoran passed out as the Thalmor advanced on him.

Zoran awakened to the feeling of someone dragging him over the ground. A Nord, in badly torn clothing. When the Nord realized that Zoran was awake, he quickly apologized and dropped Zoran, explaining that there were soldiers nearby that he hadn't wanted sticking around to investigate a body lying in the road.

Just as Zoran was getting his bearings, an Imperial scout called out an alert nearby. Zoran suddenly noticed the horse tied to a tree behind the Nord, saddle and bridle adorned with Imperial symbols. He put two and two together, but before he could get away, soldiers had surrounded both men. Minutes later Zoran was on the back of a cart, feeling ill. He faked sleep as he meditated in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves, eventually actually falling asleep instead.

The next few hours were like a dream. Upon reaching a town called Helgen, Zoran and the other prisoners were unloaded and sorted out for the chopping block. As Zoran was made to place his neck in the axe's path, a dragon landed and the rest was a blur. Literally.

Zoran prided himself on making it to the keep with the Stormcloak Ralof before succumbing to yet another fear-induced faint. He awakened the next morning in Ralof's sister's home in Riverwood, and despite Ralof's telling of the events, Zoran remembered nothing from the previous afternoon. Made uncomfortable by the Stormcloak passions of the household and not wanting to be indebted to them , Zoran politely turned down their offers of help and set out to supply himself.

And so begins the fearfully epictale of Zoran.

 

[Kaleia]

Last Seed ......? 201

Well, that says a damn lot of things about me - I don't even know what the day is. Sometime late in the Last Seed....I'd ask someone, but these Riverwood nords already give me the creeps, and I've made it fairly clear to them that I'm out of here once I get a fair chance. Don't want them to think I'm antisocial and crazy.

There's so much to write...I don't even know where to start. Laoan wouldn't approve of me writing like I talk, but sometimes fancy words don't convey my feelings well. Damn the Thalmor to Oblivion. I need to get out of here and find a way to rescue him. It may be too late for that, but even if it is, I owe it to him to make sure and get done what we came to do. End the war, on the right side.

I suppose I should start at the beginning, more or less. The problem is, I don't remember that either. Last thing I remember before waking up here is being woken up by that horse thief. Ralof filled me in on the details, but his story seems sketchy at best. I'll admit I remember bits about fire and smoke and such, but a dragon?

Since declining Ralof's sister's - what was her name? - offer of help, I've been bunking at the inn and trying to avoid them. Their love of their rebel leader....Ulfric, I think. Yeah, I remember Laoan mentioning that name too. Their love of Ulfric almost makes me sick. So, rather than subject myself to such loathsomely childish and passionate speech, I'm staying with the bickering innkeepers, one of which keeps looking at me funny. Delphine. That name I remember. Gods, why am I so scatterbrained?

Where was I? Right, I've been staying at the inn, avoiding the Ulfric worshippers. In the day, I've been braving the wilds, hunting terrifying things...such as flowers and mushrooms. Though, actually, I did bring down a few deer yesterday with my pickaxe.

Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. I've been steeling my nerves against bigger and bigger prey. Plants, rabbits, foxes, deer, and the occassional wolf that cornered me against the cliff or river. I might be getting too confident for my own good. About three days ago, a bandit appeared seemingly out of nowhere and chased me all the way to Riverwood. My new friend Faendal (all I'll say on that is: if the woman is dumb enough to consider a note carried by an utter stranger and written in a penmanship different from prior letters legitimate, she deserves the wood elf she ends up with) saved my neck as I came into town, bandit in tow.

After some contemplation, I took his things and pushed his body in the river. I left his clothes on, though. It didn't seem right to take those...off. Besides, I don't know how I'd react to the sight of human blood. Though, after all the skinning I've been doing lately (animals, not people), I might be fine with it.

The next morning I retraced my steps, cautiously, to where the bandit had started chasing me, and I found a mine. It looked innocent enough, so I delved into it, and right off the bat nearly killed myself by setting off a rockfall that I just barely avoided (I unfortunately fail to avoid it in my nightmares though). Despite this heart-pounding event, I pressed on, only to stop upon hearing voices ahead. I forget what they were saying. My focus was on a pickaxe lying on the ground below. With a pickaxe, I could mine ore, and protect myself better against wolves. I needed that. So, I waited. One of the men walked away, and the other laid down to sleep. I waited longer, then snuck down and snagged the pickaxe.

Now, at this point I really should have considered myself lucky and fled, but I didn't. I saw an ale hanging out of the sleeping man's pocket, and I crept closer to him, wondering if I dared...

I didn't. I heard a cry behind me, peed my pants, and dodged and jumped and ran all the way from the mine back to Riverwood. And took a bath after washing my pants.

But a few days later, I am proud. I named this the Brave Man's Pickaxe (someday I'll convince myself it's true), and it shall forever be an heirloom in my family. Okay, maybe I won't go that far. Anyway, this is why I'm glad: with the deer I've been taking down and various plant materials, I finally had enough money today to buy a bow, arrows, and dinner. Sure, I'm down to two gold coins, but I no longer have to rely on punching and mining my prey to death.

I have no idea what to do for tomorrow's lunch and dinner, nor the inn fare, but I'll sleep tonight as a happy (though forgetful) man.

 

[Mr1cammando]

Since your an Imperial, shouldn't you have a bit more of a sense of honor and self worth? That's how I played my Imperial, and it was a blast. I get that your a farmhand, but hey, the Imperials are a cosmopolitan race of peace and order.


But I get how hard it is to write these. I tried and failed.

And if I may suggest, prehaps this archer really could be a thief. All the good and neutral characters here are almost blending together. Someone with *ahem* looser morals could easily become more interesting.

 

[Kaleia]

Since your an Imperial, shouldn't you have a bit more of a sense of honor and self worth? That's how I played my Imperial, and it was a blast. I get that your a farmhand, but hey, the Imperials are a cosmopolitan race of peace and order.


But I get how hard it is to write these. I tried and failed.

And if I may suggest, prehaps this archer really could be a thief. All the good and neutral characters here are almost blending together. Someone with *ahem* looser morals could easily become more interesting.

I totally get where you're coming from. But Zoran is a bit more complex than racial stereotypes. For the record, he does have a sense of honor and self-worth - he just gets down a lot due too his crippling panic attacks/fainting spells. He isn't acting that way because he's a farmhand.

I'm trying And I'll keep trying. But for me, it's all about staying in-character, in-personality.

As for the thieving, that is a possibility for Zoran. But he hasn't made that kind of a dip yet. Right now, it's all about sorting out what to do next. As far as he knows, his mentor has been murdered by the Thalmor as a traitor. He wants to finish what they set out to do, but it's very plain to see that he doesn't have the mental or physical ability to get that done. Thus, it might be fear and despair that drive him to a potential future of lesser morals.

We shall see.

 

[Kaleia]

Last Seed 201

Still haven't got the date from anyone, though I'm sure I'll find out in this town. I honestly have never been anywhere nearly this loud. Everyone is talking to everyone, everyone is talking to me, everyone wants something from me. Whiterun. Pretty enough city, despite it's annoying folk.

Spent most of the day dragging myself over the hills after deer and rabbits just so I could pay off the guard to let me in. I think the guy's been talking to that daft rebel fellow - Ralof. Talk of dragons about...ridiculous.

In any case, no one in Whiterun seems to know how to solve their own problems. An errand runner could make a fortune here - unfortunately for these people, that's not my job.

Which leads me to wonder what precisely my job is. Hunting? Not really. I do it out of need, and only for now.

I've finally realized what should have been obvious. I can't join the Imperial army yet. I'd more than likely end up getting someone killed as I am now, and that cold fact leaves me at a standstill. I don't know where I could begin to look for Laoan, if he's still alive. I can't join the military. As I write this in the inn room I spent my last coin on, I really don't know what is next. All I have to my name is a bow and a pickaxe. Not even enough coin for breakfast.

I'll figure it out in the morning.

 

[Kaleia]

Tirdas, 26th of Last Seed, 201

Initially I didn't mean to write in this again for a few days, but I have had quite the day today. I just hope this one-day-good-next-day-bad pattern doesn't become a trend. In case case, this is a good day.

I set out this morning to hunt for my breakfast, and brought down a deer almost right away. As I looked up from its carcass, though, I spied a broken wagon along the road, with a jester of all things standing awkwardly beside it. Who wouldn't be curious?

I spoke to him...or rather, I listened to him squeal at me. My ears will never forget the sound of that voice. In any case, I found myself wandering up the road to ask a farmer to fix the jester's wagon, mostly because I didn't want to come across the man again. The farmer had a better idea, though, and half an hour later I watched from afar as a guard cornered and questioned the jester. Truth be told, I felt slightly bad for him, but a crazy man like that could be dangerous...and the farmer had generously filled my pocket with gold for helping rid us both of the strange fellow.

Pleased with my newfound wealth - at least, wealth compared to prior days - I started back to Whiterun. I found myself once again blessed barely 50 paces away from the wagon, as I came upon two guards finishing off a trio of bandits. Since the guards weren't bothered by it, I searched the bodies, coming up with light weapons, gold, bracers, and boots.

I checked the boots and bracers and kept the cleanest ones for myself - then sold all the weapons and remaining pieces of armor. And now I sit in the inn, belly and pockets full, feet warm (though probably reaking), and feeling good. Earlier in life, I would have underestimated how good it feels to have a pocket full of gold. It is a delicious feeling, which I never want to be rid of.

Tomorrow, I'll buy arrows and a spellbook. I've been thinking it over, and learning to summon atronachs to protect me might be a good idea in the long run.

 

[Kaleia]

Fredas, 29th of Last Seed, 201

I am weary. Two days ago, I departed Whiterun for Falkreath, and got more than lost. Thus, I have spent the past two days hopelessly wandering the Reach, running from almost everything that moves. If there's one thing Laoan forgot to mention about Skyrim, it's that everything here is trying to kill you.

This morning, I stumbled upon Rorikstead, and I have never been so glad to see a town. I've decided to stick around here for a few days before I head back toward Whiterun. Falkreath is a lost hope as far as I'm concerned.

I've hit a snag in learning to conjure. The spell I purchased is too advanced for me, so now I must save for an easier spell to practice with until I improve.

And finally, the reason for going to Falkreath at all. In all honesty, I was hoping to find a place to retreat to for a while to gather my thoughts. Laoan always said that sometimes in order too see things clearly, you had to separate from them. I'll stay in Rorikstead instead, and hopefully gain that new perspective here.

 

[Kaleia]

Loredas, 6th of Heartfire, 201

Rorikstead seems like a lifetime ago. True to my plan, I left Rorikstead for Whiterun a a few days after arriving there. I had no great epiphany there, and truly Rorikstead is one of the least inspiring bits of land I've ever set eyes on. However, the journey to Whiterun gave me food for thought.

The first was when I happened upon a giant camp. For some stupid reason, since the giant was a ways off, I snuck into the camp and robbed the giant blind before fleeing like a maniac over the hills. It was the first time I have ever stolen anything, even if it was a giant. Gave me a lot to think about, concerning my place in the world. Which some old lady in Whiterun seems to think she knows better than her own.

The second thing, when Whiterun was in sight, came when I found three dead Imperial soldiers and a dead rebel. It made me feel sick, especially when I saw two other rebels walking away down the road. I left the dead rebel, pulled the soldiers together off the road, and as a last second thought, removed the armor from on off them, leaving him covered in my old clothing. I hope he would understand that I need it.

The next morning (I spent the night in Whiterun), I paid fare to the horse cart man to take me to Winterhold. I don't favor being so close to the rebel capital, but my search for a place to be apart has led me north. After a night in the Frozen Hearth, I traveled (with the help of my new summoned familiar) to the Shrine of Azura, in the company of a dark elf also making the journey.

It is quiet here. I don't know how much I care for the daedra, but I appreciate the peaceful retreat from the world. For a few days at least, I don't have to run. For a few days, I can ponder my future in the eyes of the stars.

 

[Kaleia]

Morndas, 8th of Heartfire, 201

Why does a cat stalk its prey in the shadows? If there were no shadows, its prey would escape. Thus, the shadows are the cat's source of life. Why does the mouse hide in the the hole? If there were no hole, its hunter would succeed. The hole is the mouse's source of life. In the twilight, in the shadows, weaker creatures carve out their existence.

I believe this is what I must do as well. The weak rely on the strong, whether the strong like it or not. I will never be a swordsman. I flinch from an opponent's blade, whether I want to or not, and that flinch could mean my death. Foresight, strategy, insight, shadows - these are the tools available to me, aside from the atronachs whose will proves weaker than my own. I do not fear the shadows - only what they hide. To finally overcome this fear, perhaps I must become one with the shadows, one with the source of my paralyzing fears. Honor is the strong man's excuse for his strength.

Since I am not strong, two options are available to me. Become one with the shadows, or hide forever behind a city wall. The city life is not for me. The shadows, the hole, the twilight - these appeal to me, as much as they intimidate me.

These are the insights I have come to at the Shrine of Azura. Hunt or be hunted.

With the help of my familiar and the dark elves attending the Shrine, I practiced the way of the light-footed, used the twilight hours to strengthen my resolve that this is my path. No longer shall I pace the hills for deer. Others will catch the deer for me.

As I write by candlelight, I peer down at the lights of Winterhold. There I will test myself. There Zoran of the shadows will be baptized in a night of thievery and ill will. I will go down tomorrow, and plan my heist accordingly. If I fail, then I am wrong. If I succeed, then I have found the beginning of my path.

I wonder how much Laoan would disapprove...

 

[Mr1cammando]

AFAHAFKJHBIUBG

AWESOMENESS.

 

[Kaleia]

AFAHAFKJHBIUBG

AWESOMENESS.

Thanks. I've been considering how I could steer him in that direction...then I realized it could be very interesting for him to not look at it as evil, but right. For him, with all his intellectual nature, to come to the path through logic. I'm excited to see how this will develop.

 

[Kaleia]

Tirdas, 9th of Heartfire, 201

Tonight is the night. As I write this, the people of Winterhold slowly begin to drift to sleep. In a few hours, the shadows will be mine, and my test will begin.

Though I considered it briefly, the College is too dangerous to target. Besides, they would recognize me, considering that I proved my way in to scout the building. So, I won't touch the College.

My targets are the Jarl's hall and the trader's. To escape suspicion, I've told the innkeeper that I'm staying at the College - though to avoid late-night blunders there, I'll instead make my way to Azura's Shrine when my deeds are done. The elves don't seem to mind my presence, and I don't think they'll see my reappearance as odd.

I'd best get to it. Gold, furs, and trinkets await.

 

[Kaleia]

Middas, 10th of Heartfire, 201

I'm more or less stranded at Azura's Shrine as I write this. Why? Because I feel very, very sick. My memories of last night are fuzzy, a fact I attribute to the dozen empty wine bottles littering the snow, including one labeled as Cyrodilic Brandy...which I'm not quite sure where I got, as it seems like an unusual possession for such a small town.

In my pockets and bags, as well as on the ground, I've found my plunder from last night, which seems too good to be true. A dagger of Orcish make, a goat roast, four furs....and then the stuff that puzzles me, and to some degree worries me. Six gems, four pieces of jewelry, and two sets of very fine clothing.

But at the same time, I'm happy with my newfound treasures. Never going to drink again, but these are pleasing to the eye. To avoid suspicion, I'll tan the hides, and then sell everything valuable to a caravan. Wouldn't want to be caught with it.

But still...I don't know where the jewels and jewelry came from.

Once I recover, I'll head to Windhelm. I'm sure a caravan goes by such a large city, and there may be good opportunities for my newfound talent.

I just see a bit of blood on the dagger, and wonder if I picked up other talents in my baptism in the shadows.

 

[Kaleia]

Turdas, 11th of Heartfire, 201

It was a long hike down out of the mountains. Aside from a few wolves that my atronach dispatched with ease, it was also a quiet hike. I spied an inn on my way down out of the mountains, and I'm starting to think about staying there instead. The Ulfric-fever is high in Windhelm, and the dark elves that I have come to admire are poorly treated (I tried to speak out against one of their persecutors, but ended up having my ass handed to me). I sold what I could to the caravan, and rented a room at the local inn. Annoyed as I was by my earlier humiliation just outside, I proceeded later in the night to sneak into the inn's back room and test my lockpicks on their lockbox. My stay has now cost them, rather than me.

Another reason I'm considering the inn in the wilderness is because the whole town is whispering of murders, and the ones who aren't whispering of that give me the creeps anyway - like this fellow who wanted me to come look at his "collection" from travels with his dead sister.

I understand the caravan's complaints about the cold. I find myself aching for somewhere warmer and sunnier. Not Whiterun, though, gods forbid. But I haven't made a move on Windhelm yet. And I'm not leaving the north until I do. I've scouted around, and decided to hit the blacksmith's for furs, gold, and ores - things that can be processed, can be disguised.Tomorrow night, I'll make my move.

 

[Kaleia]

Fredas, 12th of Heartfire, 201

Yet again I find myself writing as I await the fall of shadows on a city. My targets are twofold: the blacksmith's and the home of a lady name Viola.

But, I am ahead of myself. I spent this morning waiting for the horse keeper to emerge, for today is the day I bought a horse, in partial celebration of my newfound wealth. I spent the better part of the morning contemplating a name for him. The gods certainly gave their input, as in my brief ride west of Windhelm, I was attacked twice - first by bandits, second by mercenaries. Mercenaries! My atronach proved challenged by the numbers of both, and I wasn't much help, as I focused mostly on putting my atronach between me and my attackers. And then I spent almost an hour locating my terrified horse. As I returned to Windhelm, I stopped on the bridge to dispose of the mercenaries' contract on me. Apparently, the Winterhold shopkeeper suspected me of thievery. I left my horse at the stable, paid for his care, and started back toward Windhelm.

As I passed through the tall gates, a name occurred to me: Ambush. It seemed fitting enough, and so I settled on it. I spent the rest of the day selling boots, gloves, and potions that my assailants had carried and then walking about the gray quarter. There, I met a Dunmer named Revyn. After purchasing sleek Dwarven arrows and some lockpicks from him, he told me, in coded words, that he had stolen a ring from a nord, Viola, and worried about being caught. After my run-in with the mercenaries, I couldn't help but sympathize, and offered to place the item in her home, much to his delight.

And so, that is my objective tonight.

 

[Kaleia]

Loredas, 13th of Heartfire, 201

Last night wasn't a complete disaster, at the very least. The blacksmith's turned out to be a poor place to take from, but I discovered furs and trinkets in Viola's house - which is funny, considering I went there to return a stolen item. Ah, well. After leaving her house, I headed down to the Dunmer cornerclub for a drink, and happened upon Revyn, who seemed pleased with my quick doing of the deed. He's a fine enough fellow, I suppose - for a sketchy merchant, anyway. We talked for a while, and he gave me some tips on not being suckered by merchants, and I returned the favor with gold and stories of my travels with Laoan.

I dragged myself back to the inn late in the night, and slept late into the morning. As much as I like the Dunmer I've been befriending, Windhelm is depressing, and offers poor pickings. Thus, I'll leave later today, and begin to make my way south. I haven't a destination in mind yet. Anywhere without almost constant snow.

In any case, I won't be writing for a few days.

 

[shongo3258]

hmm liked it at first and continued liking it but not as much.
It just seems your first two entries were long and planned out. They were very different and Zoran's fearful awkardness really shone through. Now they are kind short stories not offering much detail of what is going on. I personally liked it's beginning better than where it is now. It is still good and I will continue to follow. Great journal.

 

[Kaleia]

Sundas, 14th of Heartfire, 201

Perhaps I have avoided adventure too long. My eyes grow tired as I write this, but there is so much to write...

I left Windhelm yesterday without much direction or plan. In the late afternoon, Ambush and I took off into the wild yonder, making our early stop in the minuscule town of Kynesgrove. I walked about there a bit, and sat near a dragon burial mound, staring at the darkening sky and pondering my choices.

The thievery feels right, but at the same time, empty. I like doing it. That much I am sure of. I like the feel of coin in my pocket, like the feel of outwitting people, especially people I don't particularly like in the first place. But something remains missing. That I pondered on the hill over Kynesgrove, and all the way back to the inn.

The next morning I rose early, wishing to make better use of the daylight. I think the citizens were glad to see me go - I'd been somber and cold much of my stay. After feeding Ambush and myself, we set out once more.

Trouble found us on the road. As we rode past a giant and its herd, a figure in sleek red and black armor sprang from among the rocks. Surrounded on all sides - rocks rising to the left and right, giant behind, and assailant ahead - I barely had time to dismount before he was upon us, spitting curses. I danced back and forth just out of his reach, gathering my wits to summon my atronach. Once the summoning succeeded and the assassin was occupied, I fled to the rocks above, where I readied my bow and began to take shots at him. My atronach's flame brought him to his knees, and my arrow sailed to his heart. I think my aim has improved.

The deed done and my atronach vanished, I climbed down to get a better look at the fellow. And my fears were confirmed. Dark Brotherhood. An assassin. But who had sent him? Would the Winterhold shopkeeper really have gone this far? Or worse, had the Thalmor connected me to Laoan? No, no...I dismissed that. The Thalmor would have sent one of their own.

I backed off from the corpse, and a new fear sprang upon me as I realized Ambush was nowhere to be seen. I looked for him for a good half hour, my mind racing with scenarios that could have befallen the beast. Then, as a mammoth moved on, I spied Ambush on a rocky outcropping further back on the road, and I felt glad at the sight.

We moved on, weary and flinching at shadows after the assassin's attack. Wolves and bears and sabre cats chased us up and down paths of dirt and stone, and as night came I feared we would never come to civilization again.

Then, a house rose in the distance, and as we neared, I saw torchlight beyond it. I had never been so glad to see a nord structure. I urged Ambush on, and found a stable just outside the city walls. There I left my brave steed, with coin for the keeper and carrot for the horse.

And imagine this - the guard tried to make me pay for entering the city. Idiot. What moron would pay to enter a place as ill-considered as Riften? Though, personally, I don't mind the place. I talked the guard out of it, and entered free of charge, only to be confronted yet again by a rough type named Maul. I assured him I meant no harm and fled to the inn, hoping not to attract any more negative attention.

"Never worked a day in your life for all that coin you're carryin', eh lad?" Those words continuously ring through my head, even now. As I entered the inn, I paused to look about. Those few seconds were all a stranger apparently needed to size me up. He seemed friendly enough, and even flattering, but...he knows I'm a thief, knows I've fallen, and right now more than even, it feels like a fall. I'm unsure of what to think. He asked me to help him...something involving stealing, and I assured him I wasn't a lawbreaker before the words were fully out of his mouth. He was skeptical, but left me alone after that. Even so, I felt his eyes on me all the way to the stairs.

And now I sit in a rented inn room, once again pondering my future. Am I a thief? Yes. Am I a criminal? I'm not sure of the answer, and it troubles me. That man, Brynjolf, seemed confident of his assessment, and made it so easily...but is it correct?

Am I a thief? A criminal? A lowlife? The latter....surely not. What would Laoan do? He wouldn't have stolen anything in the first place. Then again.......he switched sides. He was a traitor. He wasn't clean, either. But he switched sides to save a friend. I surrendered honor to....I want to survive, but I know in my heart that isn't it either. If it were to survive, a few coins here and there would suffice. I wanted money. I envied the rich, envied their power and knew such could never be mine. Not in any way I liked, at least.

I don't mind stealing. I even like it. But am I a thief? Damn it....am I crying right now? I feel falsely accused, yet I am guilty. I have gone down a path and feel like all gates have shut behind me. I don't want to be labeled a thief, but I don't want to be hated as a criminal either.

But would others like me hate me? I don't know.

I feel like a child, and it scares me. My father would disown me for my crime, and Laoan would be disappointed. But I can't finish what Laoan and I set out to do. That is clear. I'm not suited to be a soldier. The soldier's garb I wear even now feels grim and heavy and I want to be rid of it.

At Azura's Shrine, my choice felt right. Now I'm not so sure.

I'm tired. I'll sleep on it. If I sleep at all, with these thoughts swirling through my head.

 

[TamrielsSavior]

Now that's the kind of self-doubt and de-rationalization I was hoping for!!