It certainly has been a while hasn't it? Safe to say, life got in the way, and life will continue to do so. But this was a nice escapists project to do and so it continues.
I must again greatly thank my wonderful girlfriend for spellchecking and just in general improving my text to heights much higher than mine.
Loredas, 1st of Sun's Dusk 4E201
Dear Beloved, Since my last letter to you, so many things have happened at once in a spiral of events following a particular...thing. I finally have some time to myself, which I will use to its fullest to alert you to the madness that has taken hold of my life. It has been such a long time since I last sent words to you, so it is hard to find a place to begin. I think my last letter referred to the Bosmer who taught me how to smith Elven armour, so I shall start from there.
Shortly after putting his teachings to good use and crafting myself a set of sturdy armour, I was called to Dragonsreach to deliver the Dragonstone to the Jarl of Whiterun's mage. An alarm was sounded as soon as the stone entered his hands - one that informed everyone in the room that a dragon had been spotted south of Whiterun, circling one of their outposts. Every able fighter was called to combat, including me, even though all I had done to survive the encounter in Helgen was run away. I had little time to check that my Elven armour was fitted, but I readied my steel battleaxe and accompanied the Jarl's Dunmer Housecarl with a group of Whiterun's finest soldiers.
I assume you can guess what we witnessed next. As we drew closer to the outpost, all we saw was smoke, and when we had finally arrived, the sight was less than pretty. Entire walls had been demolished, and guardsmen were strewn about, some mutilated by flame and claw. There were only three survivors, who were hiding in the main tower - these men looked frightened to death. A loud roar called us all to attention - the dragon swooped down for more, and the battle began. I charged the beast and brought down a strong hit on it's neck with my battleaxe. It roared in pain and attempted to bite me whole, but I rolled out of the way and sprinted for cover behind a wall as it spat fire at me. The soldiers of Whiterun drew the dragon away from me with arrows, and the lizard took to the skies with enough strength to shake the earth beneath us.
It roared flame at any guardsmen that were unfortunate enough to be exposed, searing flesh from bone. Keeping my mind on anything but the screams of terror, I came up with an opportunity. In what you would have surely called a fool's endeavour, much to my amusement; I climbed onto the wall and leapt as soon as the dragon was low enough. The world felt as if it had slowed down as I swung my axe and embedded it into the monster's neck, causing a roar of agony. His sudden wobbling and thrashing caused me to lose grip of the axe, and I fell, watching it crash into the ground with a mighty thud. Before he had a chance to get up again, I forced the blades deeper into his wound, and as I saw the life drain from his eyes I finally had a chance to catch my breath.
But what happened next was...something nobody expected, to say the least.
The dragon's scales and flesh began to burn by itself, as it engulfed by a mighty fire. Magical energy forced itself into my very being as the dragon was rendered down to nothing but bone, and I felt a word echoing through my mind. I suddenly understood it as the word that the wall had taught me in the unknown language. A primal urge consumed me, and I took a deep breath, then unleashed a loud "FUS!", causing what I think was a gust of wind to flow forth from me. I marvelled at this new feeling, and hadn't noticed the guards and housecarl approaching. I turned around to hear murmurs and whispers, the expressions of confusion and suspicion on many faces as they spoke of a "Dragonborn."
The men and women of the guard didn't get much time to marvel at what they thought was a hero, as the housecarl called us back to Whiterun. As we trekked the way back, every curious eye was on me, and they continued to whisper. All was normal when we returned to Whiterun, but the dismissed guards began spreading rumour and gossip. As soon as I had set foot in Dragonsreach to report to the Jarl, another booming call was heard - it was a collection of voices, all summoning "Dovahkiin". I had understood at this point that they were calling for me.
But who "they" were, I had no knowledge of. The Jarl and his mage, Farengar, informed me that it was the Greybeards; powerful men who spent lifetimes training their voices in solitude. I was required to climb up to High Hrothgar, which was nestled atop the Throat of the World - but not before being declared the Thane of Whiterun and receiving my own house, named Breezehome. I thanked the Jarl for his generosity, but had no time to rest as I began my long, arduous trek up the tallest peak in Tamriel.
The Greybeards taught me more words, and how to hone my voice. My knowledge increased and Fus became Fus Ro, and I learned Wuld, a word I can speak to travel long distances in a short amount of time. These Greybeards want me to continue searching the land for Word Walls, as they call them, to learn more words of power and to become stronger.
After demonstrating my ability to quickly learn and perform these Shouts, as they call it, Greybeard Arngeir sent me on a final trial to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller. As I descended the mountain, I passed out from exhaustion, and the next time I opened my eyes, I was rested in Vilemyr Inn of the village called Ivarstead.
After that, my memory is foggy, and I have reason to believe my mind tucked itself away whilst my body acted on its own accord. Apparently I have done so much in the time I haven't written to you. I am now the Harbinger of the Companions, when I was once but an apprentice. I now wield Wuuthrad, the battleaxe of Ysgramor himself, after finding the pieces and allowing Eorlund Gray-Mane to reforge it whole. I have found and cleansed Azura's star, although I am unsure of what to do with such an artifact now it is in my possession. I have been to many Dwarven ruins, one of which was vast and large and now once again houses the Lexicon, an object of knowledge given to me by a disturbed Argonian who told me to return it to where it came from.
I've wandered much of Skyrim's landscape now, but thankfully I haven't done it alone. I came across a Khajiit adventurer who reminds me a lot of you. We've travelled across these lands helping people with their plights and worries.
My latest adventure involved joining the College of Winterhold. Although you may mock me, dearest, as I have always been a man of steel and not spells, I have learned a fair bit. I may even be on-par with you! (That is a joke. I beg of you, please, do not challenge me to battle your Sparks should I see you again. I still regret the last time I did.) I helped the mages find a great artifact in an old ruin called Saarthal. I appear to have ventured into something big with this "Eye of Magnus" of theirs, as this huge, floating and rotating ball has perplexed us all with its intricate writing, carved in a language nobody in these halls has knowledge of.
A mage of the Psijic Order came to the college to speak to me privately. So privately, in fact, that he froze time itself. Remind me not to insult a Psijic mage. He warned me that the Eye was too powerful for these people to handle, and that something bad is going to happen whether I like it or not. "You cannot stop it", he said, "but you can deal with the aftermath" - though what this aftermath is, the Order does not know. I was instructed to speak to the Augur of Dunlain, an old student of the college, who has changed into something...different, apparently. It was all the mage would tell me before unfreezing time and leaving in a hurry. The Thalmor elf Ancano (who I wish would do something treacherous so I can bury Wuuthrad in his skull) was displeased, which amused me greatly. I visited Tolfdir to ask about Augur, and I was told to go beneath the college, where I found him...or, it, as he was apparently a field of pure magicka. It spoke to me just as any sentient being would, and after a short conversation, I learned that Ancano had also sought knowledge, and that I must find the Staff of Magnus.
And here I am, catching my breath as I write this letter to you from the college. I miss you greatly, beloved. My Khajiit friend prefers to keep to herself, but she really does remind me of you, even though it's been a long time since I've seen your face or heard your voice. I showed her this letter and received a big smile in response. Coyly, she replied that you were very lucky to have me, and I jokingly agreed - but the truth is, I am the one who is lucky to have you.
So some out of character info then. I have been playing occasionally on and off without writing this, so much of this ofcourse is recollection and looking at the quest log. My character is now level 30, wielding Wuuthrad with Elven armor and Krosis as his helmet. With my highest skill of 86 of Two-handed.