Insecurity

This dragon rumor gets more spectacular by the hour. The line that separates truth from speculation is diminishing.

Helgen is not too far from here. It’s a small imperial fort just south of Whiterun. It’s about a two hour horse ride from here. I’m guessing for a dragon that’s about a two minute flight.

What if the dragon attack actually did happen? Will Whiterun be able to withstand should a dragon decide to indiscriminately rampage the city? Will I be able to protect Dora and Fiona?

18^th of Last Seed

Dragonborn!

         I can’t sleep for some reason. It’s 3AM right now, here in Whiterun.

The city is asleep. There’s only the occasional sound of the guards on night patrol, of the drunkards stumbling home from The Bannered Mane. Maybe it’s just me, but there’s also an occasional feral roar echoing from the distant mountains. Those hermits at the Throat of the Worlds are probably up to no good again.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the dragon rumors…Oh, I forgot. The rumors introduced another piece of the story today. My guard buddies are saying a mysterious person came to Whiterun today. He met with the Jarl and warned him of an impending dragon attack. They say that he is among the prisoners at Helgen when the dragon attacked; that he was scheduled to be executed along with Ulfric. The Jarl took him seriously, too. He met with Farengar, the court wizard and was assigned to retrieve an artifact in some perilous dungeon. Typical.

What is it about prisoners that make them so special, I wonder? The person who helped Martin defeat Dagon Mehrunes in Cyrodiil during the Oblivion Crisis was a prisoner. He was there when Uriel Septim was assassinated, too. And before that, the one who united the Dunmer Noble Houses in Morrowind was also a prisoner. Sometimes, I just don’t understand the Divines that designed this world.

18^th of Last Seed

Midday Reflections

          It is midday right now. I usually write in the evenings, but there are a lot of things happening right now.

          I don’t have anything better to do anyway. My arm is still frail like a dry twig. It’s going to take a sometime to heal. I can’t swing a sword or lift a barrel. For someone like me, that’s pretty much all I can do to contribute to society. So I might as well use this time to write and reflect.

Rumors of the dragon attack are intensifying. Reminds me of that murder that happened so long ago… Does Whiterun have nothing better to do than to indulge in speculations and half-truths? Everyone innkeeper and his brothers around Skyrim are talking about it.

Fiona still shows no signs of recovery despite all the alchemical treatments. She must’ve consumed over ten potions for the disease by now. Rockjoint usually isn’t that severe. I should know. I’ve contracted Rockjoint all the time back in my days of wandering Tamriel. The reason why Fiona is still struggling to recovery is because of malnutrition. Since I haven’t been able to earn any septims lately, we’ve been eating sparingly at home. A potato for breakfast, cabbage soup for lunch and mudcrab porridge for dinner. For a growing girl like Fiona, that’s simply not enough. She needs her meals and she especially needs it when ill like this. Malnutrition exacerbated the disease. It’s more resilient and harder to treat.

I just don’t know what to do anymore…

          18^th of Last Seed.

Skyrim My Home

          Fiona is finally as sleep. It is 2AM right now. I forgot to mention one thing. The rest of the day was uneventful. I couldn’t do anything but think of Fiona. Although, there’s some strange rumors traveling around Skyrim.

You see, there’s been a civil war going on in Skyrim for some time now. The Imperials are fighting the Stormcloak rebellion. The leader of the rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak, was captured recently. He was scheduled to be executed in Helgen today. Everyone thought this is the end of the war.

          But apparently, Ulfric escaped from his execution today. People are claiming that dragons appeared at his execution. Dragons. Yes, Dragons. That’s the rumor, anyway. A dragon swooped in, killed almost everyone and burned down Helgen.

          If you ask me, there are two possibilities. Neither of them includes dragons. One, Ulfric got away because the Imperial guards were too incompetent in keeping an eye on him. So, the Imperial cooked up this story to save face. Two, the Imperials don’t want Ulfric to die yet. If Ulfric is dead, the Imperial would have no more excuse to overreach their authority into Skyrim. They’ll be forced to withdraw military presence from Skyrim. Sure, Skyrim is under the jurisdiction of the Empire. But, the Empire is more concerned with rebellions than whether or not Nords can pray to a certain dead man…

          Ugh. Even talking about this exhausts me. I usually don’t follow politics of the land. I’ve seen enough men rise and fall in my adventuring days. The stories of kings and lords are no more different than the ones of beggars and plebeians.

          17^th of Last Seed.

The Diagnosis

          Fiona couldn’t even get up this morning. She struggled just to lift her hands. She’s gotten even worse. Her stomach has been acting up a lot more frequently.

At this stage, it’s not just a fever anymore. Fiona must have contracted a disease. So, I asked Arcadia to come over for a diagnosis. The symptoms were reduced dexterity of the hand and stiffening of the arms. Fiona is suffering from rockjoint, Arcadia concluded. It’s a disease that is common among people bitten by wolves. This proved my suspicions. The disease was transmitted through the food. The deer we ate was bitten by a wolf.

Arcadia administered a potion of cure disease to Fiona. She said I can pay her for the potion later, once I find a job and all…

I’ll conclude here for today. I need to tend to Fiona.

          17^th of Last Seed.

Sick and Wounded

          Things are not going well. I thought being discharged from the force was the best thing that happened to me. I never thought that Dora and Fiona would be the ones bearing the burden.

          My daughter, Fiona, shows no signs of recovery from her illness. She stayed home for the day again. When I saw her in the morning, she looked even more drained and feeble than yesterday. She could barely move when I saw her this morning. I went to kiss her goodbye before going out to look for work. When she saw me, she summoned all her strength just to sit up. So I gave her the rest of the health potion from yesterday and left her to rest.

          Once again, I couldn’t find much work inside Whiterun. Belethor didn’t need me, neither did Arcadia. I ventured out to the plains again, hoping I could find something that could earn me some septims. I thought maybe I could kill a few wolves and sell the pelts; or maybe mine some iron ores to sell to the smith. I couldn’t go very far. The wound from the deer started acting up. I couldn’t mine or hunt anything.

          I returned to Whiterun empty handed at dusk. I didn’t even have enough septims to buy another health potion for Fiona…

          Dora made dinner with the leftover deer from yesterday. But, she didn’t want Fiona to eat it. So, she went out and borrowed some septims from Arcadia to buy Mudcrab soup for Fiona.

          Divines help me…

          16^th of Last Seed.

Ill Fallen

          Fiona was feeling sick all day. And it’s my entire fault.

          She woke up this morning feeling lethargic and barely able to move. She asked if she could stay home for the day. The sweet thing said she doesn’t want to go to school. I, being a complete fool, insisted that she tries to get up because there is an important alchemy test at school today. She looked into my eyes, and only said “Ok, daddy.” So, I went over to Arcadia’s shop and picked up a large health potion. I didn’t even have enough septims for it. But Arcadia, once again, said she’ll put it on my tabs. I had Fiona drink half of the potion when she got out of bed. She looked better, but there was still something wrong with her. A father knows.

          I took her to school as usual. Fiona was quiet the whole way unlike usual though. She just clasped my hand and walked.

          I couldn’t do anything the whole day, thinking of my daughter like that. I went around the city to see if anyone needed an extra hand. Belethor had a few errands for me to run, saying he’ll pay me some septims. He needed someone to restock his inventory, since the guy who usually does it went to Riften to find a potential new supplier. I usually don’t work for someone like Belethor, but I was desperate. I can’t risk being empty handed if Fiona falls ill. So, Belethor had me moving crates of tomato and leek the whole day.

Meanwhile at the school, Fiona’s condition was worsening. At around noon, Dora had to come to school to get Fiona. Dora could not believe that I let Fiona go to school when she was clearly sick. She had Fiona rest up on her bed.

          Fiona kept saying her stomach hurts throughout the night. It must’ve been the deer yesterday. I didn’t even check if the deer had any disease. An adult’s body, like Dora’s or mine, could resist against the disease. But for a child, like Fiona, that’s a different story.

          How could I have neglected this?

          15^th of Last Seed