18 Last Seed
I borrowed some plain clothes from Gerdur this morning and set off for Whiterun, shortly after dawn. I encountered (surprise!) three wolves some way between the two towns, and as I was unaccompanied and unwilling to bet my luck on any stray khajiit, I resolved myself to summon a fireball. Mother tried to teach me magic years ago, and while some of the lessons stuck, most of it is lost to me. Instead of a single fireball, I unleashed a stream of flames – it was much more effective than I had hoped. Being a Breton comes with its perks, one might say. I wasn't able to escape without injury, but a few nips and bites is better than having my entrails strewn about the road. I arrived in Whiterun only to find the main gate shut, but I was able to persuade the guard to allow me entry, having been witness to the decimation of Helgen. I gained an audience with the Jarl, Balgruuf. He agreed to send a contingent to Riverwood, and is preparing his hold for any further attacks. The Jarl also bid me to speak with his court mage, a horrendously ugly man by the name of Farengar. The mage requested that I explore an ancient ruin in order to find a tablet listing the sites of several dragon burials – however, he doesn't even know if the tablet is still in the ruin. Curious as I am to learn more of the dragons, I believe I'm going to decline that request. I must return to Gerdur with the good news, and begin thinking of my own future. I know I can't expect to rely on her charity forever, and I believe it best that I cut ties with any form of the rebellion as soon as possible. White I may mistrust the Imperial Legion, I do not wish to become an enemy to the Empire.