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Erandur finally convinced me to tell my story to ‘preserve the tale of the Last Dragonborn!’. I’m just doing this to get him off my back so don’t expect much. The tale will be me telling the ‘tale of the Last Dragonborn’, intercepted with some diary fragments I managed to rescue from the fire, but that will be all told. Hope you’re happy old man.My name is Valindrun. I was born in the Reach, where I was raised by a community of Forsworn. You can imagine the perfect raising techniques they got, but they did make me the best archer in the whole damn Reach. That’s all you get to know about my childhood. When I was a teenager I tried to flee the country, to get a better life in Cyrodill. But the All-Maker didn’t allow it. I was stopped by Imperial soldiers and they recognized me as a reachwoman. They threw me in a cart with the destination of Helgen. Here is a diary excerpt:
Morndas of Sun’s dawn
What a fucking terrible day did I have. Just tried to cross the border, and then those fucking soldiers decided that I should just die instead of get a better life! They knocked me unconscious and the next thing I know, I’m in a cart with a soldier, a horsethief and Ulfric motherfucking Stormcloak. When I tell y’all I wanted to bash his fucking head in I mean it. He and his fanboys killed my community, and while there was no love between us it was the only life I knew! We were just chilling, doing absolutely nothing and harming NO ONE. By Namira I need to calm down. Ulfric shmulfric wasn’t even the worst part of the day. When we had to get down from the cart the captain once again decided to just execute me even THOUGH SHE DIDN’T KNOW ME. calm down valindrun calm down. so I walk to the block, you know, ready to meet Namira and Hircine, and as I put my head on the block, an actual, real life DRAGON appears from the fucking sky and makes it rain flaming rocks. Instant chaos. Everyone was screaming and running away. A stupid stormcloak tried to take me with him but Namira knows I ain’t doing that. So I just ran. I ran and ran and ran and ran and ran, dodging flaming boulders. The gate was burned down, making it easy to escape the village and I am currently hiding in the woods. Never been in this part of Skyrim before but I reckon there is a village near me, there usually is. I’ll just follow the road.
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Tirndas of Sun’s Dawn
It’s the next day and I’m currently staying in the Bannered Mare, on the Jarl’s expenses. A lot has happened and I’m so. fucking. tired. I slept in the woods last night, my entire right side hurt, because of the…. the dragon and the cart-ride that wasn’t very comfortable either. After walking for 4 hours without any food in me I came across a lovely village. The residents were already awake and about, it must have been quite a shock to see a woman dragging herself into the town, my hair as red as my blood that was all over my clothes. The smith ran to me and asked what the Oblivion I was doing here, what I wanted, who I was and where I came from. Now I did not have a lot of patience, I just wanted food and to explain that there was a dragon attack in Helgen. I threw out some words about dragon and Helgen and he quickly rushed me indoors. Finally I got some food. I gave him a very condensed and shaky summary about the attack, people that are so friendly to strangers, especially to strangers with blood all over their clothes, give me the creeps like no Daedric Prince ever could. He persuaded me to take his horse and ride to Whiterun, to tell the Jarl all about my experiences with the bitch in the sky.
Now Whiterun I’ve heard of, folks call it the Pride of Skyrim. I thought that speaking to the Jarl would give me the best treatment I could get, so I took the horse from the overly-friendly stranger and left the village. I rode up to the gate of Whiterun, where a very rude guard stopped me. This is word for word what he said: ‘Halt! The city is closed with the dragon flying about. I suggest you leave and come back to whatever pool of mud you crawled out of.’ Like just because there is dried up mud all over me and sticks in my hair does not mean you can be rude to me, person whose face is literally hidden. I answered: ‘I’ve had a very long two days because of that dragon I will not let you deny entrance to the city because of him.’ SUDDENLY he was all like oh let me get the gate for you ma’am, have a nice stay ma’am. Bootlicker. When I entered the city, everyone quickly got out of my path, which was great. The only problem I had getting to Dragonsreach was those damned stairs. WHY SO MANY STAIRS?! Even Markarth was less bad than this.
Finally I got to the fort and like everyone else, the council the Jarl gathered stopped talking when I strode in. I have to admit, I smirked at their reaction. Quite fun to be reacted to like this. This is a transcript of the conversation between me and Jarl Barlgruuf of Whiterun:
‘Riverwood is concerned about the dragon. I come from Helgen, and I witnessed the attack,’ I said.
‘You were at Helgen and saw the dragon?’
‘That’s what I said’ (the Jarl frowned at my informality. loser) ‘I had a lovely view while the Imperials were trying to cut my head off.’
The Jarl was quite shocked that I had the guts to talk to him like that, but frankly I was just too tired to deal with formalities. Balgruuf spoke to his council again, something about Falkreath and provocations. It faded out and I swayed on my feet, my pain and hunger finally caught up with me. I was in danger of falling, but the Jarl’s housecarl swooped in and steadied me. Balgruuf seemed to realise I was still standing there, and told me to go to the Bannered Mare on his expenses. Now I can finally sleep. I’ll deal with the Jarl tomorrow.