Skyrim Letters #4

7th of Morning Star, The Bannered Mare Inn, Whiterun

Most revered mother,

I am a Thane, yo! I met the Jarl, who keeps calling me “my friend” and giving me enchanted weapons and armor, and I have a housecarl and… and I’m titled! I’m a Thane! Tell Jorunn she should move to Skyrim quick, I can totally get her a job here in Whiterun.

Ah, Whiterun, where the guards all kiss my ass and the locals are kind of polite when they aren’t venting to me, a total stranger (and thane!) about all their petty annoyances!

The world is truly my Nordic oyster, and I am a pearl. Or something.

Ok, to back up:
I came to Whiterun to ask the Jarl, on behalf of all the busybodies in that provincial little Riverrun, to send some guards- because dragons.

So the court Wizard, Farengar (I think he could be cousins to that archer guy from that little pisswater town, Riverrun or whatever), he was all impressed because- Boom, he wanted me to find him this legendary piece of rock and I was like, boom, check it out- BAM, and I already had it!

The Jarl was still sweating Dragons, because a lot of locals believe in them. Well, now I do too, since one attacked us and… I guess I helped kill it. Then I had another one of my fugues, everything got kind of hazy (I swear, ma, I haven’t been drinking much) and everyone was congratulating me!

Hey ma, have you ever heard of a “dragonborn” before? Just curious.

There are TWO inns in Whiterun, ma. TWO blacksmiths, a temple, some feuding families (not real clear on what is up with that), all kinds of intrigue, some hot redhead who has asked me to hook her up with a mammoth tusk, and a bunch of mercenary heroes called The Companions. Might check them out, I mean, if they aren’t too grubby for the THANE of Whiterun to be seen with!

Your exalted son,

Oslowe, Thane of Whiterun.

Letter from Skyrim #3

4th of Morning Star, the Sleeping Giant Inn, Riverwood
Dear mother,

Well, I guess I am an adventurer!

Fandral turned out to be a real jerk, he was trying to talk me into killing Camilla!

I gave her Sven’s letter- she doesn’t seem too impressed with either of them, and I don’t blame her.

I took Sven with me to try and get this Gold Claw that she and her brother are obsessed with- it was in some bandit-infested ruins up in the snowy mountain north of Riverwood.

It went ok!

Fought some bandits, and these undead zombie Nords! Sven called them Draugr- but then the halfwit started playing his flute while I was picking a lock (tell Jorunn it is easier than she thought) on a treasure chest.

Bandits, ma, I was liberating wealth from bandits. And Draugr, I guess? Don’t tell dad I was looting an ancient Nord tomb! Please ma!

Tired. Face still dirty. I need to offload some of these weapons and treasures I picked up in the bandit fortress/tomb. What the heck were those bandits doing living in a tomb anyway? With Draugr wandering around? Seems like a terrible idea. Oh well.

Found a cool necklace in the tomb too- I think it is tied into one of the local Gods, Mara? I put it on when I gave Camilla and her brother their golden claw back. I think Camilla is a big fan of jewelry on men! She was flirty with me. Haha, take that Sven and Fandral!

Oh yeah, Sven didn’t make it out of the tomb. There was a Draugr- like a really tough one with horns on his helmet, and he killed Sven. I got him though. The bad guy. With this cool axe, it is enchanted or something! I used up all the magic on Draugr though.

Oh, and I found a weird curved wall that sang to me! Chants, all “Oooh, foos, ooh”. Wow, you must think I’m hallucinating again.

Don’t mention that to dad.

Your son, “adventurer”, Oslowe.

Letter from Skyrim #2

2nd of Morning Star, Sleeping Giant Inn, Riverwood

Dearest Mother,

Happy Scour Day, I guess. They don’t seem to go much for holidays here in Riverwood, not that I felt like partying much on New Life Day, I was just plain bushed.

I spent yesterday playing cupid for Sven, the mediocre bard, and Fandral- or however the hell he spells it- this pushy elf. Both of them are in love with Camilla Valerius, the sister of the guy who owns the general store. I thought she was his wife! Turns out, nope, brother and sister. Anyhow, both the bard and the archer are crazy about her. She is okay, I guess, in an Imperial sort of way.

Anyhow- hey, remember how when I was a little Nordling I used to tell you and dad stories about dragons? And he thought it was proof of my Nord heritage, and you thought I was just telling tales? Funny, because I sort of thought I hallucinated something the other day in Helgen- Gorfelbrug the Wise always taught me and Jorunn that shocks and traumas could cause a sort of mental detachment, remember?

Not to worry you, but I sort of thought maybe I survived a rebel attack (I didn’t mention it because Ma, I know how worked up you get about the civil war) and went a little crazy- but it wasn’t a rebel attack, everyone keeps saying it was a dragon (except for the people that don’t think it was a dragon). But…

Well, anyways, maybe I am a little high-strung to be an Adventurer, like dad has always, always said.

Anyways, Camilla and her brother Lucan have asked me to go find some family keepsake for them, up in the mountains. I need to figure out how to handle this Sven/Fandrel/Camilla triangle thing, both guys are pushing me to help them hook up with her. Maybe they want a share in the store? Is this a financial thing? She isn’t even that pretty!

Before you ask, I am keeping my boots dry. Now that I have boots. I sort of lost all the stuff you and Dad and Jorunn loaded me up with when I left home- I got here in looted bandit clothes and with a dirty face. Embarrassing start!

I ended up carrying just under 300 pounds worth of bandit gear into Riverwood to trade in at the general store so I could buy some decent adventuring gear- only to find that I could make it all at the blacksmiths! Ma, your little boy looks good in leather armor, helmet, boots and gauntlets. Don’t worry, the armor comes with pants. Now if I keep practicing, I can make the armor “Fine!”

Tell Dad… well, tell him I’m adventuring anyways. Please don’t tell him about the high-strung or the hallucinations, ok? Oh, for the sake of the Gods, it isn’t like he already doesn’t think it.

Tell Jorunn I’ll send her a present soon- I’ve earned up a little gold.

Much love ma, to you and Jorunn. If dad asks- which I doubt- tell him I still think a sword is more elegant than an axe. Actually, better not.

Oslowe

Letter from Skyrim

26th of Eveningstar; Sleeping Giant Inn, Riverwood
Dear Mother-

Finally made the last leg of my journey, and now I am in Skyrim.

I knew to expect it, but I am still awed so many of the locals look like father, all big and Nordy. I guess I knew it would be like that, but I still jump every time a huge blond man booms “Hail, Kinsmen”. I guess I am always expecting them to ask if I’ve cleaned the kitchen midden, and then look all disapproving.

How is dad, by the way?

Ran into a little trouble once I’d crossed the border from High Rock. I honestly expected to be writing from Haafinger Hold, but I got kind of lost I guess.

Not really sure how I got to the ass-end of Whiterun Hold, to be honest, everything is sort of hazy and then I was in a cart with some Nord prisoners and… well, let me just tell you I got into a little trouble, but it blew over.

There was a very understanding Nord, Hadvar, serving in the Imperial Legion who seems to have hand-waved whatever I did wrong (I am not clear myself, honestly ma, foreign customs, am I right?) and introduced me to his Uncle or someone who is the blacksmith here.

There is a pushy elf guy who keeps offering to teach me how to bend a bow, some Nord, and an Imperial couple that runs the general store. The inn is nice enough, though the lady that runs it is kind of snarky. There is a bard, Sven, he’s pretty tight.

I’m not sure where Riverwood is in the grand scheme of things other than “in Whiterun Hold”- maybe sort of in the middle? There is a really huge mountain due East, and Helgen somewhere to the south…

Speaking of Helgen, that serving bowl that you like that was crafted there? Hang on to it. It will be hard to find a replacement.

I’ve got some wood to chop for the lady that runs the mill, and then I’m working the bellows for Hadvar’s uncle Alvor. Sometimes I am really glad you guys didn’t give me a traditional Nord name. Gah, don’t tell dad I said that.

And yes ma- I remembered to get warm clothes when I got to a cold climate. I’m wearing some fur, or hide, thing. Took it off a Bandit who was came at me out of nowhere. I’m pretty sure there aren’t any bugs in it. At least I’m dressed in something primitive and Nordly anyways, so you can tell dad that much.

Love to you and Jorunn. She’d better not have snuck into the apprentice-level locked chest in my bedroom- I booby trapped it with some poison darts.

Oslowe