Breezehome, Loredas, 13th of Second Seed 4E 205

It is a cold & ſoggy daye, & there is much rain. I am travelling to High Hrothgar, & hope to learn of a new word for mine ſhouts.

Near Helgen I ſtumbled upon three agents of the Thalmor. A veritable ſlaughter! One held in his pockets an order to send me to Oblivion, which I read to Lydia. We shared a good laugh when it said that I was "extremely dangerous & quite able to defend myself". Four bandits what had made their nest in the ruins of Helgen learned this leſson alſo. We are now eating our ſtew over their corpſes.

The horſe at Haemar's Shame is ſtill there, & neither Maſter nor Miſtreſs in ſight. But I chanced upon a Breton who tried to ſteal him & hurled fire magic moſt foul.

I converſed with my friends Wilhelm, Lynly, Faſtred & Gwilin, & all were happy to ſee me. Ivarstead is ſuch a peaceful little hamlet, & I might retire here in my old age were it not for diſtant Elſweyr calling me to nevermore roam. I left my truſty mare in Jofthor's care & am beginning the 7777 steps to High Hrothgar.

A dragon attacked! Rare have they been ſince the World-Eater periſhed at my hands. I have abſorbed his soul & am still trembling with excitement. A huge & legendary creature who killed two froſt trolls & a goat before my eyes. His remains ſlid down the mountain & came to reſt near Ivarſtead & the entire village aſsembled as I took the ſcales & bones for myself.

I have reached High Hrothgar. Brother Arngeir bears news of a word in Arcwind Point. Have I not been there before? But I ſhall inveſtigate. It is late, & yet the monks are firm in their refuſal to have me for the night. But I know there is a bed for me at Vilemyr Inn, & mead & pastance with good company.