A dragon. The greatest of all the creatures, a creature even the most daring of conjurers fears to bring forth. I saw a dragon. And it was no mere mist or shade from the netherworld, oh no, this was a true reincarnation of the mighty Alduin himself, I have no doubt in my mind. It was he.
A kindly city guard helped me escape the wreckage of Helgen, in fact he brought me to his families home, fed me and offered me a bed for the night as well. But I am no stranger to the dark, nor to the cold, although I shall admit that I have never stepped foot in Skyrim before, so I expect there will be some differences here from what I am used to in Morrowind. I hear they have no Cliff Racers. What a pity. No Guars either, I will miss those peaceful creatures. They seemed to bring a sense of stability to the upheaval and unrest that is Morrowind these days. I have no intention of intruding on this peacful open family any more, I bring with me only death and threat of death. I must retire to somewhere hidden where I can once again practice my dark art without threat or interruption.
I overheard the family talking about a certain "Bleak Falls Barrow" situated not far out of town, to the north west I believe. It sounds like some sort of old Nord ruin, perhaps containing undead! I head there as soon as I have bartered for a pair of boots from the uncle (who is also a blacksmith) NOT made of chainmail, I can barely move my feet in these dreadful things. I am a 109 pound dunmer woman, how in the world did he expect me to be able to move!
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