28th of Hearthfire, 4th Era 201
Dear Diary:
I am terrified. What a joke this is, a joke on me. When I wander through the mountains, I am always casting Detect Life so as to not be taken by surprise. I am scared of my big empty house in Hjaalmarch. I never exit the front door without a sword in my hand, I am thinking of not using the front door at all but only exiting through the roof. The big empty house and its echoes haunt me, I constantly feel that I need a sword or a spell in hand even in my own house. I should be dead many times over, I know this. The visions keep me from falling into dire harm, visions of myself dying in various horrible ways. I wonder if I am still sane. It would almost be reassuring if I weren't.
The irony of this is not lost on me. I am the boogeyman of the nightmares of others. I am the silent blade from the shadows. The arrow you never see, you only turn at a whisper of feathers and then the arrow through the brain and you are dead, without ever seeing your enemy. Grelod the Kind, did she have nightmares of me, I wonder?
I who am the nightmare of others, I am a nightmare to myself. Ever since I killed Grelod, most of the proper city merchants don't want to have any dealings with me. They know somehow it was me, word gets around. It's not bad enough that I am a Khajiit. For most Khajiits, simply being a Khajiit is bad enough to keep them banned from the cities. But I am a thane, I am the Dragonborn. It must really rankle the Nords that their first Dragonborn in centuries is a Khajiit and a woman. And wealthier and more powerful than they can ever dream of being. Not that it does me much good.
I who am the nightmare of others, I am a nightmare to myself. Ever since I killed Grelod, most of the proper city merchants don't want to have any dealings with me. They know somehow it was me, word gets around. It's not bad enough that I am a Khajiit. For most Khajiits, simply being a Khajiit is bad enough to keep them banned from the cities. But I am a thane, I am the Dragonborn. It must really rankle the Nords that their first Dragonborn in centuries is a Khajiit and a woman. And wealthier and more powerful than they can ever dream of being. Not that it does me much good.
I am petrified in fear. Why do I do it? I could take my money and go buy a house in the Imperial City or back home in Elsweyr and set up shop as an alchemist or an enchanter. I suppose technically I could do that, though I know full well that's a lie. I know full well I am a slave of the gods.
I even know which ones. Being a Dragonborn, that's not something that happens to normal people. It hasn't happened in centuries. I am here because Sithis and Akatosh did a dirty deal with each other to save the stupid world, and I am their illegitimate offspring. That's why I'm not dead, that's why I get the visions that save my life. Because neither Sithis nor Akatosh want their investment ruined. Until they get theirs, I'm fucking infallible. Why then am I so afraid? Because I am, really really terrified, all the time. Even in my own home, my own home haunts me with its corners and its shadows and its sounds.
I guess I should start at the beginning. I entered Skyrim without a septim to my name. I fortunately happened on the first dragon attack in aeons, which both saved my life and gave me some dead corpses to loot for my first armor, my first robes, and my first crude weapons. Even then, I was desperately poor. I stole steel arrows from the guards in Falkreath because I couldn't afford to buy them. Stole them right off their backs, the oblivious fools. For my troubles, the Falkreath guards got together a collection to get some sellswords to come pay me visit me later. I was just walking out of my house, and bam, these four thugs. They are fertilizing my garden now, and I am some 300 septims richer. If that is what the guards paid them, it is a poor price for being dead.
My garden - I don't grow vegetables or anything normal like that. No. I grow ingredients for deadly poisons. Because I am an assassin. I was born to be an assassin. Before I ever knew anything about this Dragonborn business, I loved Sithis. And Sithis loves assassins. The Night Mother is the only mother I ever knew. As a child, my hard-drinking abusive grandmother would get lit up on skooma and tell me about Sithis, and his consort the Night Mother, and their children. The Dark Brotherhood. I killed 2 of their members too, who would have been my future brothers, probably new recruits they were sending off to prove their mettle or die in the attempt. They died in the attempt.
Anyway, in the beginning. In the beginning I was a poor thief in Skyrim, and a poor mercenary. Then the visions came more often. And the whole Dragonborn business started. I started winning, and I started making money, a lot of it. I paid some poor unemployed scribe in Whiterun to give me a basic education, and then I went to college of all things. The College of Winterhold, a college for magic. I am still attending, when I can get a minute to study away from all my killing. Grelod was my first actual assassination though, and a sloppy job it was too, that's why everyone in Skyrim knows it was me. Mostly I kill bandits, who rarely see me coming or if they do, don't realize what monster it is that they are dealing with. A monster I am, but I am also a frail small woman too. I am a tiny little thing, that's what makes it so funny. A tiny little Khajiit with strong sword arms who spits fire and ice, and whose voice can hit like a fist. But that's only if you see me. My black fur and me, we fade into the shadows pretty well.
I guess I should start at the beginning. I entered Skyrim without a septim to my name. I fortunately happened on the first dragon attack in aeons, which both saved my life and gave me some dead corpses to loot for my first armor, my first robes, and my first crude weapons. Even then, I was desperately poor. I stole steel arrows from the guards in Falkreath because I couldn't afford to buy them. Stole them right off their backs, the oblivious fools. For my troubles, the Falkreath guards got together a collection to get some sellswords to come pay me visit me later. I was just walking out of my house, and bam, these four thugs. They are fertilizing my garden now, and I am some 300 septims richer. If that is what the guards paid them, it is a poor price for being dead.
My garden - I don't grow vegetables or anything normal like that. No. I grow ingredients for deadly poisons. Because I am an assassin. I was born to be an assassin. Before I ever knew anything about this Dragonborn business, I loved Sithis. And Sithis loves assassins. The Night Mother is the only mother I ever knew. As a child, my hard-drinking abusive grandmother would get lit up on skooma and tell me about Sithis, and his consort the Night Mother, and their children. The Dark Brotherhood. I killed 2 of their members too, who would have been my future brothers, probably new recruits they were sending off to prove their mettle or die in the attempt. They died in the attempt.
Anyway, in the beginning. In the beginning I was a poor thief in Skyrim, and a poor mercenary. Then the visions came more often. And the whole Dragonborn business started. I started winning, and I started making money, a lot of it. I paid some poor unemployed scribe in Whiterun to give me a basic education, and then I went to college of all things. The College of Winterhold, a college for magic. I am still attending, when I can get a minute to study away from all my killing. Grelod was my first actual assassination though, and a sloppy job it was too, that's why everyone in Skyrim knows it was me. Mostly I kill bandits, who rarely see me coming or if they do, don't realize what monster it is that they are dealing with. A monster I am, but I am also a frail small woman too. I am a tiny little thing, that's what makes it so funny. A tiny little Khajiit with strong sword arms who spits fire and ice, and whose voice can hit like a fist. But that's only if you see me. My black fur and me, we fade into the shadows pretty well.
And now I have the money and the power and the nice home in Hjaalmarch that is nicer than the Jarl's house, and it doesn't matter. It's not like I am happy. I am afraid all the time.
I was just recruited to the Dark Brotherhood. I haven't had a chance to meet up with my new family yet, strange things are happening in Winterhold, things I must resolve, but I will soon. My new home?
I am a witch, a thief, and an assassin. Why would I be such things, if they fill me with terror? I am a terror, a terror to others and I terrify myself, and my repeated visions of my death terrify me. I am a living embodiment of pure murder, child of Akatosh, child of Sithis. I am a hunter of men. Why am I so terribly afraid?
I was just recruited to the Dark Brotherhood. I haven't had a chance to meet up with my new family yet, strange things are happening in Winterhold, things I must resolve, but I will soon. My new home?
I am a witch, a thief, and an assassin. Why would I be such things, if they fill me with terror? I am a terror, a terror to others and I terrify myself, and my repeated visions of my death terrify me. I am a living embodiment of pure murder, child of Akatosh, child of Sithis. I am a hunter of men. Why am I so terribly afraid?
I have a Youtube series on this particular character (sans roleplay) on my channel at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCOAUtFDN_YO1ibKdrvzbp5Q
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