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. They attacked on ſight, but were no match for me. 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 when they thought me eaſy prey. We are unharmed, & now eating our ſtew amidſt theſe crumbling walls.

The poor 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 at me. I was forced to defend myſelf again. Oh Skyrim, thy beauty harbors loathſome canker.

I arrived at Ivarſtead & 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.