I don’t miss the sun anymore

Day Three? – Who knows anymore

I’m marking this as ‘day three’; Lydia says I slept for quite a while earlier. It seems as though my snores are the only means we have of keeping track of time down here! I did so miss the sun. And fresh air! Oh, to take in a lungful of air that doesn’t smell like mildew and pure, refined must

We snacked, made sure we’d picked up everything that might be useful, and left the safety of our little stone hut and went back to what passes for ‘outside’ down here. With no clue where in Oblivion we should be going, but with Lydia, Aranea, and Meeko looking to me for direction, I put on my most confident voice and told them to “follow me!”

I chose to go right – not because I knew where I was going, but because ‘right’ also means ‘correct’, and you never know. Stranger things have happened.

I took it as a good omen that, only a short distance along the way, I heard that distinctive, ethereal singing again, and caught a glimpse of a glowing aura around some more of that crimson nirnroot. The previous inhabitant of that stone cottage seemed to think it was important, so I pulled it up and brought it along. I’m only sorry that they stop singing once you pick them!

I’d love it if you plants kept singing even after I’d picked you.

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No words

Day Two – Maybe 23rd of Frostfall?

It was an uneventful night. I took a turn guarding the camp after a couple of hours sleep, but other than the ceaseless noises of the ruins themselves, not a lot happened. We were all still weary, cold, and stiff, but we had to press on, so we packed up our things, had some food, then finally opened those golden doors to see what lay behind them.

An empty corridor! And it was quiet in there, too! We should have camped there instead! Grumbling all the way, we followed the corridor around into another room. A number pressure plates were dotted around on the floor, but we managed to get past them without finding out what they were connected to. One of the eyeless creatures wished us a good morning with his sword, but I wasn’t in the mood for him.

Through the next set of doors we went, and found huge, well-lit cavern. Some kind of gateway blocked access up a set of stairs ahead of us. It looked quite elaborate, and I wondered if perhaps the Elder Scroll was just on the other side of that gate. I longed to be outdoors again. I was starting to feel like I’d traded one cave for another.

Please tell me it’s in here somewhere… I miss outside!

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Deeper underground

22nd of Frostfall, 4E 201…? Day One

Rallying the troops wasn’t as difficult this morning. After breakfast we went outside to retrieve our horses, and set off in the direction Aranea had suggested. A well-trodden dirt trail, apparently used by the mages of the College to get to some ruin or another nearby, led between two buildings and up a short incline. In no time at all, we were in the ice wastes again.


It didn’t take long for Aranea to point out the tower she had mentioned last night. Alftand, just visible in the distance. It looked to be quite a long trek across difficult terrain, as far as I could tell, but she insisted that it wasn’t as far as it looked.

Aranea, if that’s your idea of ‘not far’, I’d hate to see what you consider to be a long journey!

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Bravely, we follow the directions of a lunatic

21st of Frostfall, 4E 201

I’ve started to amass more of an army than a gang these days, and rounding them all up is starting to become difficult. Meeko follows me wherever I go, of course, but Lydia was as difficult to awaken as ever this morning. Aranea, meanwhile, was nowhere to be found. She returned to the inn half an hour later, having been to the general store. A note would have been nice!

Once I’d finally managed to gather everybody together, we ventured over to the College of Winterhold. The high elf lady who guarded the entrance didn’t seem to recognise me, despite her being the same one who’d scuppered my hopes and cast me out into the cold the last time. This time, however, I had a different plan. A better plan.

Is this magic enough for you? Or do I have to use the ‘f’ word as well?!

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Divine detour

20th of Frostfall, 4E 201

I woke up very early this morning. I was keen to get a move on, as this dragon apocalypse business didn’t seem likely to wait for me, and I’d wasted enough time already. Lydia didn’t seem to share my motivation, however, as I had to go and wake her up. She’s not what you’d call a ‘light sleeper’ either – I thought I was going to have to use a Word of Power or something to stir her!

Don’t make me shout!

When I did finally rouse her, we set about packing for a long journey. Food, warm clothes, potions. I mixed up a few extra health potions with some spare ingredients just to be sure, using my very own alchemy table. Finally, we ventured outside.

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Not the College of Winterhold again!

19th of Frostfall, 4E 201

In contrast to the peaceful morning I spent in my new home yesterday, today I woke up with an enormous dragon staring right at me from just outside the entrance of my frozen tent.

I was going to describe the experience as ‘peculiar’, but that word doesn’t really do justice to how hard I hit my head on the wooden support of my tent’s roof. The whole tent lifted up off the floor and nearly collapsed on top of me. It took a moment or two for my mind to recall the events of yesterday and realise he was friendly!

And I used to think it was terrifying to wake up with Eriilde standing over me! Well, it was

Paarthurnax seemed fairly amused by it all though, so at least I didn’t offend him. While I tried to thaw some salted beef over the brazier, as all of my supplies had frozen solid during the night since I foolishly left my pack outside of the tent, we talked some more. I like how he talks; booming and gruff, but also somehow soft and warm at the same time. I could listen to him for days!

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Lydia’s Log: Silence, my prey

Day: Sundas
Date: 18th day of the season of Frostfall
Year: 201st year of the Fourth Era
Location: Windhelm, Eastmarch

I have woken up with quite severe hangovers in the past, but never one so bad as the one I awoke to this morning, especially considering I did not actually drink anything the prior night.

I found myself on the floor, the rough planks pressing firmly against my face, early morning light streaming in through holes in the roof. At first I thought I had fallen out of bed in the night, but I soon realised that I was no longer at the inn where I’d originally laid my head to sleep.

And I had an audience.

Good morning?

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