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Day Twenty-two - 22/11/2014

Current Word Count: 31,634

Words to Go: 18,366

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Ten

Characters Slaughtered: 7

Cups of Tea Consumed: 20

Best Quote from Today: I actually have two, because they’re equally hilarious.

1. “Lydia asked me where my sword was, I told her that I lost up a dragon’s nose, and I swear to Khenthari the look she gave me could have set me on fire.” - Zahrassa Barahir, Act One, Chapter Nine

2. “I may have crawled on thousand-year-old moss earlier but that was justdisgusting!” She wailed as she snatched the cloth out of Faendal’s hands and started scrubbing furiously. “Fresh blood is one thing, thousand-year-old old draugr blood like that is just…ew!

“Glad to know you have standards in what blood can get all over you or not,” Faendal said, rolling his eyes and bending over the fully dead draugr.

“Well, I am a girl, aren’t I? I’d be used to bl-”

“We are not discussing that!” Faendal gasped, turning bright red and becoming extremely interested in the rusted iron helmet that the creature had been wearing prior to Zahrassa’s brutal assault on its neck. - Act One, Chapter Seven

Sanity Level: I spent several hours in a small car with my dad making dad jokes non-stop yesterday, do I look fucking sane to you?!

Character of the Day + GIF:

Cirya, age 90

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A snarky Altmer Conjuration student at the College of Winterhold, Cirya (no relation to Nirya, the other snarky Altmer student) is noted for her fearlessness, lack of good judgement, and the loud arguments that she gets into with Ancano in the middle of the night. She has an interesting in necromancy that often frightens others.

Zahrassa would like to be friends, but there’s just something off about Cirya that keeps everyone away, and it isn’t the necromancy that they’re afraid of.

I got home yesterday, and the words have been flowing. I'm actually almost caught up! How cool is that, ya'll?! :D





Day Twenty - 20/11/2014

Current Word Count: 26,449

Words to Go: 23,551

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Nine

Characters Slaughtered: 5

Cups of Tea Consumed: 17

Best Quote from Today: 

“Please don’t make me do this again,” she sighed, turning to face the dead dragon and wiping a small hunk of dragon flesh off of her ear. “And I need a new sword.”

“Did you break it?” A guard asked.

“No, I jammed it up the son of a bitch’s nose and I really don’t want to touch it again.” - Act One, Chapter Eight

Sanity Level: Nope

Character of the Day + GIF:

M’nara Barahir, age 42

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Zahrassa’s missing biological mother whose life is shrouded in mystery. She was an apprentice Restoration mage in Torval, Elsweyr before the family fled to Skyrim and became travelling merchants. Also very pretty, but other than that, nothing is known about her. Well at least to you people. I am Loon and I know all.

Hasn’t been seen since 4E 191 and once killed a bunch of Thalmor single-handedly while nine months pregnant.





Day Eighteen - 18/11/2014

Current Word Count: 22,024

Words to Go: 27,976

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Seven

Characters Slaughtered: 1

Cups of Tea Consumed: 15

Best Quote from Today: ”So there you go. I just won my first fistfight with a man twice my size by punching him in the…you get the idea.” - Zahrassa Barahir, Act One, Chapter Six

Sanity Level: Eh

Character of the Day + GIF:

Falanar Joriane, Second Emissary of Skyrim, age 436

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Disgraced and demoted ten years prior to the events of the story, Falanar has been trying to repair his reputation with the Thalmor by hunting down some of the Dominion’s most wanted. His current target is none other than Dragonborn Zahrassa Barahir herself, as well as her biological parents, for reasons unknown to Zahrassa. He will stop at nothing to have them in his clutches no mater who or what he drags down with him.

Really needs to be repeatedly beaten over the head with a stick.

I'm starting to get my groove back after switching to third person. And I wrote 5,000 words in one sitting. Help.





Day Fourteen - 14/11/2014

Current Word Count:
 10,770

Words to Go: 39,230

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Five

Characters Slaughtered: 1

Cups of Tea Consumed: 12

Best Quote from Today: “The gist of it was this: Sven the Nord and Faendal the Bosmer were both in love with Camilla the Imperial. Sven says it’s ridiculous that Faendal thinks he can win Camilla by just being her friend. Faendal says it’s ridiculous that Sven thinks he can win Camilla with just poetry and other bard stuff. I say “why are you asking me, I’m fifteen”. -Zahrassa BarahirAct One, Chapter Five

Sanity Level: I just wrote 8,000 words in one sitting. I am not okay.

Character of the Day + GIF:

M’zami Kharstee, age 17

The excitable, overly flirtatious best friend of Zahrassa who always wants to go on an adventure of some kind. Whether it’s attempting to poke the sleeping caravan guard or scaling the walls of Markarth, wherever M’zami goes, a (slightly unwilling) Zahrassa and a (very disappointed) parent named Idhisa will follow.

She’s very plump and not afraid to use her “assets” to get what she wants from people. Truly a fabulous force to be reckoned with, especially with the amount of piercings and beads in her long hair.

~~~~~

So I haven’t updated in a while. That’s because my ex-roommate was evil and drained most of my energy. Also, research papers. But it’s the weekend and I’m determined to catch up, even if I need to force myself to listen to Justin Bieber to get to that point.

May God have mercy on my soul.



Day One - 1/11/2014

Current Word Count: 1350

Words to Go: 48,650

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter One

Characters Slaughtered: 0

Cups of Tea Consumed: 0

Best Quote from Today: "I'm told it's like writing letters to myself about what the days have been like, how I'm feeling, stuff like that, so I guess I should write myself an introduction..? So here we go." - Zahrassa Barahir, Act 1, Chapter 1

Sanity Level: Was I ever really sane?

Character of the Day + GIF:

Zahrassa Barahir, age 15

The tiny, enthusiastic redhead who is always brightens a room always tries to maintain an optimistic outlook at all times, even when everything is terrible and mysteries surround her. She often doesn’t give herself enough credit and prefers to hide behind those bigger and stronger. Her skills in emotion manipulation are unmatched.

Probably the happiest main character I’ve ever written.

~~~~


We're off to a slow, but steady start! Will I be able to handle college and NaNoWriMo at the same time? Stay tuned to find out!





Well folks, NaNoWriMo 2014 starts on Saturday, and, as always, I'll be driving myself insane by participating.

However, this year has the added bonus of me being in college with multiple papers to write and an addiction to Skyrim. I'm a bit late to the party with it since it started ruining lives in 2011, but what-fucking-ever. :shrug:

This year, my story will be based in Skyrim (of course) and follow the adventures of my Dragonborn as a deconstruction of a Mary Sue. Basically she just wants to be normal, but the "but thou must" trope and the plot of Skyrim itself gets in the way and makes her look like one as she bumbles along trying to figure the whole thing out.

It'll be fun, I promise.
  • Mood: Triumph
  • Listening to: Thanks for the Memories - Fall Out Boy
  • Reading: The Culture of Fear by Barry Glassner
  • Watching: Netflix
  • Playing: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
  • Eating: Tea
  • Drinking: Chocolate cake

Fredas, 22nd of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dear Diary:

Practically nothing interesting happened today unless you count some warriors from Hammerfell showing up in Whiterun and making a scene, but more on that later.


I got to meet my new housecarl today. Her name is Lydia, but I don't know if I like her or not yet. She didn't seem to enjoy the fact that she's now sworn to guard a fifteen-year-old that barely reaches her hip in height. Heck, she actually thought Faendal was the Dragonborn when she showed up at the inn this morning looking for us and wouldn't believe me when she was told otherwise. I guess everyone expects the Dragonborn to be some tall, muscular Nord man with a giant axe, not a short, boney Khajiit girl that freaked out about being touched by draugr blood (my claws still don't feel clean, the temptation to get someone to clip them off so that a new set grows back is awful) and hides behind others in a fight. But yes, I am the Dragonborn, whether I like it or not.


My armor and clothes were still being cleaned this morning by one of the women who works here at the inn, a very pretty Redguard named Saadia (sort of...again, more on that later). She was the only person who didn't scream when I waddled in covered in blood and guts last night, instead she just sighed and pointed me to a small back room where I could take a bath, leave my armor, and anything else I didn't feel like hauling around all day.


Since my usual dress, a light brown, long-sleeved dress that went down to my ankles, was soaking in a tub of boiling water, I had to make do with the somewhat dark blue dress that Gerdur gave me on Sundas (has it really only been a week?). I'm grateful to have something else to wear and all and it is a nice dress, it just clashes really badly with my fur and hair. Blue, orange, and red don't go together very nicely, but I managed to hide the red with my spare black headscarf (my usual colorful one is also being washed...I really hope the blood stains come out, it's my favorite).


I went to the Temple of Kynareth for a while in the mid-morning. I haven't been to any sort of temple since I was a kid, so it was kind of surreal. It brought back a lot of memories from when I was with the Little-Wish's and my real parents. Erisla was a priestess and when I was really little, she would take me to the Temple of the Divines with her when Sigirek was on a job and nobody else was around to watch me. She would be walking around doing her thing and I'd be running around getting underfoot and being adorable. Not many people in Solitude had ever actually seen a baby Khajiit, so a lot of people would come just to get a look at me. I met El that way. Her mother was also a priestess like Erisla, but El had tutoring and almost never came to the temple with her mother. One day when I was about seven years old and El was ten, she actually showed up. I was running around upstairs like all little kids do, and I went bounding down the stairs and almost knocked her over.


Literally running into people seems to be the way I make friends, doesn't it? It happens very often.


While I was at the temple, I started thinking a lot about my father, K'tabe. He was devout follower of Khenthari, and he always said that he wanted to someday be able to visit the Temple of Kynareth. He had an Amulet of Kynareth that he gave to me before I started living with the Little-Wish's that was missing the sapphire that is usually on the amulets. He took it off of his amulet so that he could use it make my mother's wedding ring, a small gold band with an emerald and a sapphire. I had both the ring and his amulet, but the Imperials must have taken them from me when...well, you know. I still have a hard time with what happened. I don't even clearly remember much of what happened anymore...oh well.


Either way, I haven't really stopped beating myself up for losing them, even though I don't show it. Who knows where they might be and if I'll ever see them again?


I left the temple to go for a walk outside of the walls for a little while, and I just kind of stood at the spot that we would make camp every time the caravan came to Whiterun. It was very surreal to be standing there on my own, and I had to go find a way to make myself busy so that I didn't start getting upset. I figured that I would go check on my armor and clothes, so I started to make my way back to the city, and that's when Saadia and the warriors from Hammerfell came in to my day.


When I got back inside the gates, there was a guard arguing with two of these warriors (who had really cool swords, by the way). The warriors wanted to search the city for some Redguard woman, and the guard would have none of it. They were also trying to get another warrior released from jail because he had climbed over the city wall late last night, but the guard wouldn't have any of that, either.


That's when the warriors asked me to help look for this woman, and said that they would pay me. Why they thought to ask the small Khajiit woman who looks like a small child, I have no idea. Either way, it worked, and I agreed to look for this woman. I had no idea how I would do it, though, since there are about a hundred Redguards living in the marketplace area alone. But I wanted one of those swords, so I had to do it.


Of course, then I learned what they really were after I went to go ask Saadia if my clothes were clean or not. She took me to the room, then pulled a dagger on me and started asking me how much she needed to pay me to keep me quiet. Turns out that these “warriors” were assassins hired by the Thalmor, and it was Saadia (also known as Iman) that they were looking for. She still wouldn't put down the dagger when I promised I would help her, so I told her that the Thalmor were hunting me down, as well. Not only was it for something my parents must have done, but also because I kind of clawed up the First Emissary in a desperate attempt at freedom. She finally put the dagger down after that story. She knew about the assassin that got thrown in jail last night and pointed me in his direction.


It was relatively easy to get him to give me the information he needed. I managed to get him to tell me by lying and saying that I was hired to get him out of jail, but I just needed to make sure he wasn't a murderer or something (I'm very good at lying). I even paid off some of his bounty to prove myself, and the minute the gold left my hands he was talking away. I got all of the information needed, then got my money back from the guard by telling them he was with the Thalmor. I'm so clever.


Of course, I went and gave Saadia this information, and she asked me to go “take care” of the assassins. Which means that I'm probably going to have to kill more people. The bandits at Bleak Falls Barrow didn't bother me since it wasn't me who killed them (it was Faendal), and draugr are already dead, anyway, but I keep flashing back to-


No. I'm not going to talk about that anymore.


Now that Lydia is my housecarl and Faendal in Oblivion-bent on making sure I don't accidentally kill myself doing something stupid, I can just get them to kill these guys for me.


Right?


- Zahrassa






Loredas, 23rd of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dear Diary:

Here is what I have to say about my day: FUCK SPRIGGANS!


I don't usually use words that harsh, but with the way my day has gone...ugh. I need to sleep for the next three years to get over this. I'd rather stab Kematu again than have to fight another fucking spriggan.


And I'm pretty sure Lydia hates me. I forgot to get a new sword yesterday and the sun wasn't even up when we left for Swindler's Den this morning, so all I had to use to go up against a bunch of Thalmor assassins with amazing curved swords was a few iron arrows, a hunting bow I had plucked off of another bandit at Bleak Falls Barrow, and a steel dagger. Lydia asked me where my sword was, I told her that I lost up a dragon's nose, and I swear to Khenthari the look she gave me could have set me on fire. Well excuse me for only learning that I'm the savior of Tamriel three days ago!


Either way, the walk to Swindler's Den was pretty uneventful. We did see some pretty interesting things, but it was mostly me skipping along like a small child while Lydia brought up the rear. Faendal kept trying to convince Lydia that I really can fight, I'm not always child-like, I've just been having a bad week, but he gave up and we just went along in silence. The first thing Lydia actually said the entire walk was when we got near this cave called Bloated Man's Grotto and she pointed it out. She said it was very pretty, and I wanted to go in immediately, but then she turned around and said “don't you have something you're supposed to be doing?”, so we went past.


I don't really feel all that ready to go talk to the Greybeards at High Hrothgar just yet, so she's going to be extra special about that.


It's not that I'm scared to climb the tallest mountain in all of Tamriel (and possibly Nirn) to go talk to a bunch of men that can kill someone by just speaking (okay, maybe I'm a little scared of that), it's just that all of this happened so fast that it's overwhelming. This time last week I was crossing the border into Cyrodiil, and now I'm expected to be as great as Tiber Septim himself. I need time to process this whole thing, and some small part of me is still hoping that Idhisa will come back for me soon. And this whole “Voice” thing is just completely bonkers. I mean, I've used it a grand total of one time, so I know it's real and I can do it, but it hurts. It feels like a bird without wings; I'm supposed to be able to do it, but I can't.


I did suddenly remember something in the middle of the night while I was trying (and failing, as usual) to sleep: while the caravan was camped outside of Markarth a few weeks ago, I overheard some guards talking about how Ulfric Stormcloak used his voice to kill Torygg. That must mean he can Shout kind of like me, right? Jarl Balgruuf said that anyone can learn how to Shout, but for normal people it takes years and years of practice, while for me, the Dragonborn, I can learn instantly (kind of messed up if you ask me). If Ulfric can Shout, but I'm the Dragonborn, it means that he knows something, and I don't have to climb up a mountain to find out. So my plan is to go to Windhelm and ask him instead. Faendal will probably go along with it since he likes exploring with me, but Lydia might need to be talked into it. She's much more task driven and would probably prefer if I went to High Hrothgar, but I think she'll come along after I explain that Eastmarch is warmer (Windhelm, though, I have no idea, I've never been there). Besides, staying in areas that are under Stormcloak control is probably safer for me until I get stronger; draugr are one thing because they aren't that bright, but Thalmor are a bit scarier since they come in hordes. And they can shoot lightening out of their hands, which I really don't want to get involved with.


Speaking of Thalmor, we made good time and got to Swindler's Den around noon (and dodged several giants that were walking along the road for some reason, to boot). There were bandits guarding the entrance to the cave, but Faendal got rid of them in less than thirty seconds. He's awesome like that.


The rest of the cave wasn't as easy. I was still hesitant about killing people, so I mainly went running into the areas that bandits were hiding, then lured them into range so that Lydia and Faendal could take them out for me. I nearly lost my tail to one Orc that was dual wielding war axes, but I rolled out of the way just in time. I did have to man up (woman up?) when it came time to face Kematu and his “A'likir” cronies, since he actually wanted to talk, and while we were talking his men surrounded us...yeah, that wasn't smart on my part.


He started telling me about how Saadia actually sold her city out to the Thalmor and that they were bringing her back to face justice, and I almost believed him before Lydia yelled at me to stop and think for a second. I'm actually glad she did.


If they were going to have her face justice for selling the city out to the Thalmor, then why didn't the assassins that were looking for her yesterday just tell the guards they were doing so? It doesn't matter if you're a Stormcloak, and Imperial, or unaffiliated, everyone hates the Thalmor, and the guards would have handed Saadia over with no questions asked. Instead, the assassins tried to sneak into the city, and that just screams “Thalmor being up to no good in Whiterun” (I didn't think of all of this myself, Lydia had to guide me along a bit...I'm not that smart).


Kematu realized that I wasn't going to believe him and his Thalmor lies, but before he could do anything, I, without realizing what I was doing, kicked him in the knee.


That small section of cave erupted into violence. Kematu came after me swinging and I scratched him in the face and stabbed him in the arm, then took his amazing curved sword while he was down and cut down the guy that tried to grab me from behind. Faendal and Lydia delivered all of the killing blows, so technically I didn't kill anybody. Plus, they were Thalmor. That didn't leave anything on my conscience. I got two curved swords out of it, too!


We made good time in getting out of the cave, too, so I got to see Bloated Man's Grotto!


Which is where the spriggans were.


I hate spriggans.


What was actually funny about the whole thing was that they were actually harder to kill than the assassins that were after Saadia, and Saadia had warned me early this morning that they were extremely dangerous and skilled. If a spriggan can last longer in a fight than a highly trained assassin, the assassin is not highly trained. I'm pretty sure I still have twigs in my hair.


Also, while we were in the Grotto, I found a sword that just might beat out these awesome curved swords. It was a long, thin blade left in front of a small Shrine of Talos by some man named Bolar who the Thalmor killed, and the note the man left said that if they wanted to fight Thalmor, then to take his sword.


I took it and used it to stab a dragon that came swooping down when we set up camp tonight...though I lost one of the curved swords up its nostril. Again.


But hey, maybe this whole “Dragonborn” thing isn't so bad. I'm feeling stronger every day!


- Zahrassa

The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 9

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda Softworks, LLC
The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir © Gracie Erickson

{<<< The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 8} {CHAPTER 10} {COMING SOON >>>}

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Turdas, 21st of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dear Diary:

I fell asleep while Faendal and I were walking back to Riverwood after we crawled out of Bleak Falls Barrow with the golden dragon claw and Dragonstone in tow. The exhaustion hit the minute the night air had slapped me in the face, and I blacked out just before we reached the bridge into the village. I woke up curled up in front of the fire in Faendal's house and he told me that I just laid down in the middle of the path and went to sleep without a word. He carried me back to his house and set me in front of the fire so I would be warm before he also went to bed. I was so exhausted from all of the running, climbing, and fighting that I had to do yesterday that I actually slept through the night. For the first time this week, I didn't have any bouts of restlessness or any nightmares (though the first thing I saw when I woke up was the low flames in the fireplace and I panicked a little bit). Instead I had a really weird dream about a golden dragon that couldn't breathe fire, only sneeze it.


I'd rather that than big black dragons and swinging blades, even if it is weird.


I still woke up pretty early (and the momentary panic wouldn't let me go back to sleep), so I went and sat out on the porch until Faendal woke up. I don't remember writing in here last night, but it looks like I did. The handwriting is worse than usual and there are a lot of misspelled words, to the point where I'm pretty sure if my old tutor in Solitude saw it, she would implode.


Once Faendal finally got out of bed, we went to deliver the golden dragon claw to Camilla and her brother, Lucan, at the general store. Camilla was so happy that she kissed Faendal on the cheek and he turned about as red as my hair (I thought about teasing him about it but didn't; he already puts up with so much from me and we've only officially known each other for a few days). He stayed red the entire time we were there, and Camilla was gushing about how “nice it was of him to take a kid on a bunch of adventures” (thought it was really more like me clinging to the friendliest looking person in town and dragging them along with me, and he just happened to be the friendliest looking person). I just bought some more hide laces so that my armor could be strung up even more and let them be.


When we were done at the store, we went back to Whiterun to give Farengar the Dragonstone. It was only about a two hour walk, so it was still morning by the time we got there. There were these two little girls playing tag just inside of the gates and they started laughing at how silly I looked wearing armor that was five times my size and tied to my body with a bunch of hide laces, but they ran off before I could say anything. Little shits.


There was also this Redguard man in the marketplace who told me I looked like a bandit, but he was easier to deal with. I just stopped, turned to face him, and asked him if insulting orphan children gave him joy. That shut him up really fast and Faendal laughed at him as he grumbled and walked away.


Things once again got weird and interesting after we dropped off the Dragonstone. You're not going to believe a single word of what I'm going to say, but I swear on my grandmother's ashes that it's completely true.


&%&%&%&


Why do I always get into these situations? Zahrassa thought to herself, leaning heavily against the inner wall of the Western Watchtower as the roars of a dragon got closer and closer. Almost as soon as she had hefted the stone onto Farengar's desk, Irileth came running in telling Zahrassa that she needed to follow her immediately. Now, less than fifteen minutes later and completely out of breath from sprinting so fast, Zahrassa found herself once again about to stare down a dragon.


“Be sure to make every arrow count!” Irileth yelled as the green dragon reared up over the mountain peaks and shot towards the tower. Zahrassa staggered as it landed on top, making the building shudder violently while it screamed fire down onto the guards that were unlucky enough to be outside.


As soon as it had landed it took off, the tower shuddering once more. Zahrassa went back to her place leaning against the stone wall, chest heaving as her breaths came into her small lungs, loud, shallow, and panicked. The sound of flaming rock hitting the ground rang in her ears and her face warmed, leaving her unable to distinguish if it was actually happening or not. A hand grabbed her shoulder and she almost screamed.


“Don't just stand there!”


The person who had grabbed her shoulder was a guard, shaking her as if it would bring her back to reality. The heat left her face as she turned to face him, the sound of falling rock being replaced by the dragon yelling and arrows swishing through the air. The tower shuddered once more as the dragon landed and started breathing fire in all directions.


“Sorry, I'm just-”


“Stop talking and move it!” The guard yelled, shoving the Khajiit towards the spiral staircase. “Go stand in a window and shoot it when you see it!”


“Y-yes sir!” Zahrassa stammered as she began to climb the stairs, her legs shaking more and more with every step. I'm not cut out for this. I'm not cut out for this.


There was a resounding explosion on the ground as the dragon landed next to the tower, leaning down and snapping a guard into its wide jaws. Zahrassa arrived at a small hole in the wall near the top of the tower just in time to see the poor guard tossed high into the air and swallowed in one bite. With that, the dragon turned its humongous neck and looked right at Zahrassa.


Instead of breaking down in terror, the adrenaline kicked into overdrive. The dragon began snapping at another guard that had run at it with a greatsword, backing away just before he, too, could be eaten by the beast.


“Die, dragon!” The brave guard screamed, about to lunge forward when a rock fell from seemingly nowhere and landed on the dragon's head. The dragon shrieked and turned to look at the window near the top of the tower, where Zahrassa was standing with hands resting on each side and fire in her eyes.


“Hey ugly!” She screamed, throwing another rock, this one hitting the dragon right between its nostrils. “Why don't you pick on someone your own size?”


You are brave. Balaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honor.” The dragon said in a deep, rumbling voice.


“If you can catch me, first!” Zahrassa yelled back, cupping her hands around the sides of her mouth. She was feeling almost light-headed as she jumped back front the window and moved a few steps down just in time to avoid the dragon trying to stick its head through the window. Zahrassa took out the iron sword she had plucked off of a bandit at the barrow the day before as the dragon moved its head back and tried to ram it through the window a second time.


Brit grah. I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!” The dragon called as it tried to wedge its head inside a third time. “I shall-”


Its long, evil tongue poked out of its mouth as it began to speak once more, and Zahrassa, with adrenaline pounding through her system and the panic attempting to rear its ugly head at the sound of the dragon's voice, delivered a savage strike.


“NIID!!” It screamed as its tongue split open, blood flying everywhere as it moved its head from the window and tried to fly off.


“Still a fine sport?” Zahrassa yelled over her shoulder as she sheathed the sword and ran up to the top of the tower, pulling her bow off of her back and notching an iron arrow into the string. The sunlight was almost blinding as she came to a stop and spun around, trying to get the dragon back in her sights.


“Watch out!” A guard behind her yelled, forcing them both to the ground as the dragon reappeared and swept directly over them. The guard rolled off of Zahrassa and onto his back, firing off an arrow in the dragon's general direction. Zahrassa hopped back to her feet and re-notched her own arrow, spinning rapidly to find the dragon once more. It reappeared again and began to hover over the tower, getting ready to breathe fire on top of them. Thinking fast, Zahrassa sent the arrow flying directly into its belly while the guard, behind her once more, aimed for the face.


The dragon continued to scream as it was assaulted with arrows from all directions. It shook its head and clutched onto the edge of the roof of the tower, violently snapping its jaws in an attempt to grab Zahrassa and the guard. They backed away as much as they could while the monster extended its neck further and further, finally blowing fire on the guard in frustration. The guard screamed, dropped to the ground, and rolled away, leaving Zahrassa alone to face the dragon.


Without thinking, Zahrassa pulled her sword back out and drove it as far as she could into the dragon's nostrils. The dragon screamed even louder than before and bucked its head, sending Zahrassa flying over her sword and landing on its neck. It began to take off, and, now officially panicking, Zahrassa took out her dagger and climbed higher onto its head by stabbing it into the gaps between its scales and digging her claws in as hard as she could. As the top of the tower started to shrink awake, she squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could and held on to one of the spikes coming off of the dragon's head as hard as she could.


She dared to take one hand off of its spike to yank her headscarf off of her head, entwining around her other wrist and flinging the fabric around the spike. Her eyes peeked open just a crack so that she could wrap the other end around the wrist firmly clinging to the spike without seeing how far off the ground she must have been. Now at least somewhat tied to the dragon, she pulled her dagger out of the gap in the scales she had shoved it into and held it between her teeth as she tried to re-orient herself so that she was considerably closer to the dragon's eye.


Now effectively grappling with the screaming, spinning dragon, she squeezed her eyes shut once more, took the dagger out of her mouth, and inched her way towards the eye. Her eyes flew open for a fraction of a second just to confirm where she was, and then they shut once more. She raised the iron dagger over head once more, and...


“NIID!! NIID!!” The dragon screamed once more as Zahrassa felt her arm and front side get covered with a warm liquid. She continued to stab at its eye wildly, no longer aware of her surroundings. The adrenaline had forced her to focus on this, and this only. Her eyes opened once more as she let go of the spike and began to claw her way to the other side of the dragon's head, headscarf still wrapped tightly around her wrist.


The dragon began to lean to one side as it began to come in for a landing, making Zahrassa slide down the top of its head and land on the other spike. With the ground fast approaching, Zahrassa dug the claws of her right hand into the dark green scales and leaned left, raising the dagger above her head once more. She closed her eyes just before she plunged it into the other eye, the warm liquid splattering her face and strands of hair coming out of her loose braid. The dragon raised its head once more and Zahrassa hung on for dear life, forcing her eyes open as the dragon climbed higher into the sky before it suddenly dipped forward and began to plummet towards the ground.


“DOVAHKIIN, NIID!!!!” The dragon screamed as Zahrassa scrambled onto its neck, trying to pull on its scales as if it would enable her to steer the falling, dying creature. She righted herself as the dragon lifted its head once more, keeping a frightening focus on the space between its head spikes as she rode the dragon through the fall. The ground came closer and closer, and she hung on and pressed her face into the hard dragon scales. The violent jolt caused by the dragon crash-landing into the ground nearly threw her off as a spray of dirt covered her and stuck. She didn't lift her head and fully open her eyes until it had finally come to a stop right in front of the Western Watchtower, right where the fight had started what felt like forever ago.


“By the gods...!” A surviving guard gasped as Zahrassa, covered in dirt, the blood, and the gore of the dragon, slid off of its neck and staggered towards the small crowd of survivors that began to gather near the corpse. Irileth pushed her way to the front of the small crowd and beamed at Zahrassa, who had unwrapped her wrist and draped the headscarf over her thin shoulders.


“Please don't make me do this again,” she sighed, turning to face the dead dragon and wiping a small hunk of dragon flesh off of her ear. “And I need a new sword.”


“Did you break it?” A guard asked.


“No, I jammed it up the son of a bitch's nose and I really don't want to touch it again.” Zahrassa said flatly, crossing her arms. The guards behind her let out a loud guffaw.


Their peace was short lived, however. The exact moment the guards started laughing, the dragon's corpse erupted into flames, the flesh and scales starting to drop off of the bones and disintegrate into nothingness. Irileth grabbed Zahrassa and dragged her backwards as beams of bright light came jutting out of the flames, which had suddenly begun to dwindle. The light swirled around the dead dragon as the flames finally died, revealing nothing but a yellowish skeleton behind. More colors seeped out of the bones and joined the white light as a sudden light wind picked up. When the colors, oranges, purples, and yellows, fully joined the white, it stopped swirling around the dragon and began to extend long arms of light. One of the arms of light touched Zahrassa lightly on the chest, and then the rest came rushing after until it was swirling all around it, the wind picking up strength and blowing most of Zahrassa's braid undone as she looked at her hands.


“By the gods, could it really be...?” Another guard gasped as the light fully enveloped Zahrassa before vanishing into thin air. Zahrassa clenched her hands into fists, feeling stronger than she had that morning and any of the weakness she felt after sliding off of the dragon vanishing with the light.


“What...what just happened?” She asked, turning around to look at the guards.


“Just like the old legends...” Another guard murmured. “You must be Dragonborn!”


“...excuse me?” Zahrassa asked, confused. Some of the things she had read in The Book of the Dragonborn just a few days ago came back to the forefront of her memory. The other living guards began to murmur among themselves, and one, a short woman, finally stepped forward.


“A mortal born with the soul of a dragon. You can absorb their souls and their power by killing them. It's the only permanent way to kill a dragon!”


Zahrassa mind began to reel. I'm the only person who can permanently kill a dragon?


“This is nonsense,” Irileth stated.


“It's nonsense to you because you're not a Nord!” Another guard snapped.


“There's only one way to know,” yet another stated, looking directly at Zahrassa. “Try to Shout.”


“...Shout?” Zahrassa stammered, still reeling.


“You know, like Tiber Septim!”


“...like Tiber Septim?


“By the gods, you're daft...” the guard sighed, hitting himself in the side of his helmet with his hand. “You know, in Dragon language.”


Fus...wait, why did I think that? Zahrassa flashed back to the day before, standing in front of the curved wall with the glowing runes. Well, might as well give it a shot...


She slowly turned to face the dragon skeleton, feeling horribly confused and frightened. Her? Being some Nord legend? How could that possibly be? Just a week ago she was a small merchant trying to talk a friend out of recklessly diving into an ancient Nord burial crypt, and now she was being compared to Tiber Septim!


“FUS!” She Shouted, and a wave of energy flew out of her throat and hit the skeleton, making it shudder and roll. She immediately slapped her gloved hands over her mouth, a sudden ripping pain beginning in the bottom of her lungs and quickly tearing its way into her throat.


“She's the Dragonborn!”


The excited chatter continued, nobody noticing that Zahrassa was clutching her throat in an attempt to dull the burning pain that Shouting had caused. Any attempt at swallowing was met by even more pain ripping down the back of her throat as if it had been torn in half. It took several minutes before she could take her hands away from her throat and move her jaw without feeling like she was about to cough up blood. No wonder Tiber Septim got to become a god, that hurts...


“Balgruuf will want to speak to you.” Irileth said, finally noticing Zahrassa once more.


“Yes, of course...lead the way...” Zahrassa wheezed, straightening from her hunched over position.


“Are you alright?” Irileth asked, quirking an eyebrow at the small Khajiit.


“I think so,” she answered, looking at her blood and gore covered arms. “I don't exactly look presentable, though.”


“He'll have to deal with that, then, because there isn't much time. Now come.”


Zahrassa staggered along after the Dunmer woman, some of the guards patting her on the shoulder as she passed.


“Good job, kid,” one said.


“Thanks,” Zahrassa answered, turning to smile at the guard before hurrying to catch up with Irileth and fix her hair and the same time. The sun was beginning to set, and it looked like once she got cleaned up, Zahrassa would have a relatively peaceful evening-


“DOV-AH-KIIN!!”


Or not... Zahrassa though as the ground shook from the power of...whatever that was sweeping down the mountains and across the tundra.


&%&%&%&


So there you have it. I nearly got killed by a dragon (again), killed that dragon, and found out that I'm Dragonborn, just like Tiber Septim was. I guess my wish of meeting a female Dragonborn was granted...sort of. I am the female Dragonborn, and I don't know how to feel about that. Jarl Balgruuf said it was a great honor, and that the loud thing (which I learned is called “Thu'um”) that came down from the mountains was a bunch of monks, called Greybeards, summoning me to come talk to them. Looks like the adventure never ends.


It was a bit awkward, waddling back into Whiterun covered in blood and guts. A lot of people stared and whispered, but no one said anything to my face (except for Faendal, who started in with “what did you do to yourself?!?!” almost exactly like Erisla did whenever I came home covered in stuff I shouldn't have been covered in).


Oh, and Balgruuf named me a Thane. Me, a Khajiit, a Thane! Roghild was a Thane back in Solitude, and now I get to be one in Whiterun! I can buy my own house if I have the money for it, too! And I get my own housecarl, who I get to meet tomorrow morning after I get all of the blood out of my fur.


Now I need to go scrub myself clean. Luckily I have a spare dress I can wear after I'm done bathing, everything else is going to take a while to clean. At least Farengar will be happy, because he gets to look at whatever blood and flesh survives.


- Zahrassa

The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 8
The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda Softworks, LLC
The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir © Gracie Erickson

{<<< The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 7} {CHAPTER 8} {The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 9 >>>}
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Middas, 20th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dear Diary:

Let it be known that I, wimp extraordinaire, survived the crawl through Bleak Falls Barrow! Crazy, right? Well, I wouldn't have been able to do it without Faendal. There were some bandits camped out in front of the Barrow and I accidentally made enough noise that they knew where we were, so I turned and ran away. This lead them right into range for Faendal to shoot them with a bow and arrow. They never knew what hit them!


I ended up taking some of the armor that they had been wearing before Faendal killed them all. I dropped the Stormcloak armor I have been wearing right in the middle of their tiny camp and put on the fur armor I looted from the ringleader. It was far too big for me, but it was the only one I could take because the other bandits were wearing armor that provided almost no protection against other people or the weather. No wonder they're bandits, they aren't smart enough to realize that a fur loincloth will not protect you from anyone coming after them! Meanwhile, the leader, a giant, burly Nord, was wearing fur armor that covered everything, so of course I went for that. Faendal helped me use the laces I bought yesterday to tighten it up enough that it would be a more reasonable fit. I look really silly now, but as long as it keeps me safe, I don't care.


I really should invest in a shirt and a pair of pants, though. It isn't exactly easy running around wearing armor over a dress, y'know.


We did have a very interesting encounter inside of the barrow, too. Remember last week, when the owner of the store in Riverwood was arguing with his sister about something being stolen and how they were going to get it back? Well, guess who and what Faendal and I found in there?


The thief who stole it, and the thing in the first place! It was this golden dragon claw-like object, and the thief said that it would unlock something that was extremely valuable.


We didn't exactly get the chance to ask him what exactly was locked away, because once we freed him from a Frostbite spider web, he tried to run away but stumbled into a trap that released a spiked door. It was pretty gruesome, to be honest.


Faendal got rid of the Draugr that were in the room the thief got knocked into and I went through his stuff, taking the golden claw and his journal. I let Faendal play around with the claw while I read the journal. It said something about the clue to unlocking the valuables being in the palm of our hands when we held the claw, which took me a while to understand...


&%&%&%&


“What is that...thing?” Zahrassa asked as she and Faendal came to a stop in front of a hallway that contained several swinging blades.


“A swinging blade trap. Very deadly.” Faendal observed.


“How do we get through it?”


“Very carefully.”


“Now is not the time.” Zahrassa muttered, rolling her eyes.


“If I remember correctly, there's usually some sort of lever or chain that makes them stop swinging on the other side.”


Zahrassa placed a hand to her chin and rubbed it, thinking. “Too dangerous to try to run through?”


“Yup.”


“What about crawling through?” She asked, slipping her backpack off and letting it land on the ground with a soft thud. Faendal gave her a quizzical look, cocking an eyebrow. “I mean, I think I'm small enough.”


“You just might be.”


“Well, then that's what I'll do.” Zahrassa stated, dropping her satchel on the ground and undoing the clasp that held her burlap cloak to her throat. With that, she got on her knees. “There's health potions in the satchel. Have them ready in case I get cut.”


“Be careful, kid,” Faendal said, picking up the satchel as Zahrassa laid down on her stomach and began to inch forward. Her ears were completely flat against her head and she wriggled forward, trying not to flinch every time she felt the wind caused by one of the blades swinging less than in inch from her neck.


Don't think about it...don't think about it... She screamed in her head, almost feeling the heat of the dragon's breath on her face as she slid along the cold, hard ground. She flattened her cheek even harder against the ground as she started to hear falling rocks off in the distance. “Am I almost through?”


“You're almost there!” Faendal yelled back. Zahrassa squeezed her eyes shut and dug her claws into the cool rock as if it would root her back in reality, carefully starting to inch forwards once more. It was taking every fiber of her being to not launch forward and run away screaming as if the dragon was looming right over her once again.


Almost...there... she thought, twisting her neck in such a way so that she could see where the trap ended. As she righted it and began to crawl forwards, she felt the wind of a swinging blade pass right over her neck, and she let out a strangled cry. On the verge of panic and once again hearing the falling rocks, she began to scramble forward as fast as she could, ignoring a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder and feeling the wind pass over her tail as she staggered to her feet and threw herself at the chain. With a loud noise, the blades stopped swinging, and Zahrassa leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. “Got it!”


“Thank the Divines...” Faendal sighed as he came through the now-safe corridor. He knelt down next to Zahrassa, who had slumped against the wall and was breathing heavily, gently pouring a small amount of a health potion on her gashed shoulder.


“Didn't notice that it got me...” She said wearily, watching the wound seal itself shut as the red liquid of the potion mixed with her blood.


“You started writhing on the ground after one of the blades passed close to your neck and tried to get up. I got worried that it had cut you there-”


“Stop. Stop talking.” Zahrassa demanded, flattening her ears against her head as if it would shut Faendal's voice out.


&%&%&%&


I felt bad for snapping at Faendal like that, but I couldn't stop myself. Ever since that place, I've been extremely protective of my neck. I don't like hearing blades swing through the air, I don't like things touching my neck, I can't sleep properly, and I can't talk about anything relating to That Place without my stomach knotting itself up. Even writing this down is giving me a stomachache! I know I'm terribly wimpy, save for when I have a size advantage and can reach places where it hurts to be hit, but this is just a whole new level of pathetic. I need to sleep for, like, a week straight to feel better. I'm sure I'd be fine if M'zami were around, she'd be joking about it so much that it would twist itself into something hilarious. I can't do that on my own, just sit there and try to forget all that happened.


That wasn't the only swinging trap that we had to go through, either. Faendal and I came across a second one, and we tried jamming it with the bodies of draugr and everything else that was laying around and movable. It worked for just long enough for me to scramble through and pull the lever that shut it off, which I was pretty glad for.


I'm never fantasizing about going into those old Nord tombs again! They're just too weird, especially with what Faendal and I found when we finally reached the Dragonstone Farengar asked for.


&%&%&%&


“Would you look at that!” Faendal said as the duo walked into a hallway with extremely detailed carvings on the wall and a large, circular...thing at the end of the hallway.


“It's pretty,” Zahrassa said in wonder as she looked at the carvings on the wall, “but how do we get through? I think it's a dead end.”


“Unless this thing is some sort of door.” Faendal stated, knocking on the circular carvings at the end of the hallway. Zahrassa came to his side to also look at it, noting the four rings. The three outer rings had a single, small carving of some sort of animal at their highest point, and the fourth ring had three small holes on the upper part and a image of some kind of claw in the centre. Zahrassa idly placed one hand on the second inner-most ring and let her weight rest on it as she studied the circle in the middle. Suddenly, she felt the ring move.


“Woah, woah, woah, what in Oblivion...?” She gasped, withdrawing her hand as if it had been burned and stumbling away from the wall. The ring groaned as it spun around, the carving on top moving away and being replaced with a carving of a different animal.


“It's a puzzle!” Faendal declared.


“Oh, great, more puzzles...” Zahrassa sighed, flashing back to the spinning pillars that the two had spent a half hour, possibly longer, trying to figure out back when they first entered Bleak Falls Barrow. Faendal pressed on another ring, and the carving on top was also replaced with a different one.


“Maybe we need them to all match?”


“That might work.” Zahrassa shrugged, jumping up and slapping the outermost ring so that it shifted as well. They worked together to get all of the rings moved so that the symbols were all the same, and then Zahrassa pushed against the big circle in the middle.


Nothing happened.


“Maybe you didn't push hard enough? Here, let me try,” Faendal offered, shoving his hands against the circle as hard as he could. When nothing happened again, the two stood there staring at it in confusion.


“Maybe it wasn't the right combination?”


The sounds of stone scraping against stone filled the wide hallway once more as the rings shifted to match one set of animals, and then another. The two even tried different combinations, but the central circle still refused to budge, even when they threw their combined weight at it.


“Kador?!” Zahrassa snapped, angrily kicking the circle. “Kador, Khenthari?!”


“Maybe there's some sort of key around here...” Faendal muttered, kicking a pile of rocks out of the way. “I'll look over here, you look over there.”


Zahrassa knelt down, feeling along the cold, damp ground that probably hadn't been touched in centuries, her mind reeling. She dug her tiny claws into the small cracked in the stone, felt along the wall, and shoved loose rocks aside in search of anything that looked remotely like a key. “Didn't that thief guy say something about a 'Hall of Stories'?”


“...now that you mention it, yes, he did.”


Zahrassa straightened up and wiped her gloves on the front of her armor, then pulled the thief's journal out of her backpack. Widening her pupils so she could see the jagged writing better in the dark, she reviewed one of the paragraphs over and over in her head until something finally clicked.


“The claw!” She gasped, standing up as soon as the realization hit. “They claw is the key! Here, let me see it!”


Faendal handed the golden dragon claw to Zahrassa, who took it up to the center circle, lined the claws up with the three small holes, and jammed it in. Again, nothing happened, so she tried jamming it in even harder, even twisting it a few times. There was a loud groaning noise as she pulled the claw out, and for a minute, it looked like the strange door was about to open.


“Watch out!” Faendal yelled, grabbing Zahrassa by the scruff of her neck and dragging her backwards as a row of spikes suddenly jutted out from the ceiling. Almost as soon as they had appeared, they vanished back inside of the tiny holes that neither of the duo had noticed before.


“...wrong combination?” Zahrassa suggested once they had finally caught their breath from the shock. Faendal let go of the back of her neck and smacked himself in the face, letting his hand rest that way for several seconds. Zahrassa idly turned the claw in her hands, suddenly noticing carving on the palm of the claw that looked similar to the ones on the door. “I think I found the combination.”


“If it doesn't work this time, we're leaving.” Faendal muttered as he helped Zahrassa move the outer rings so that they matched the order of the animal carvings that had been etched into the claw.


“I'll agree with you on that.” She huffed before realigning the claws with the small holes. “Cross your fingers.”


With a silent prayer, Zahrassa pushed the claw into the circle and twisted it. The claw immediately sprang back out and Zahrassa jumped backwards to avoid any potential spikes that would come jutting out of the ceiling. Instead, the stone rings groaned and spun around rapidly until all of the small animal carvings matched each other. Stone scraped against stone as the door slowly began to lower into the ground, revealing a dark staircase that had been hidden behind it for centuries.


“It worked! It worked!” Zahrassa cheered, turning and hugging Faendal before sprinting up the stairs.


“Be careful!” Faendal called after her as she ran up, skittering to a stop when she reached a large platform that overlooked a wide, brightly lit cavern.


“Woah...” she said, in complete awe as she craned her neck to look around as much as she could. There was a small, steady stream of water running along the bottom, with a large, curved wall with strange markings at the other side.


“The Dragonstone has to be in here,” Faendal mused as he arrived at Zahrassa's shoulder, joining her in her awestruck staring.


“Lets look near that wall,” she said, pointing at the curved wall with the strange markings. “That looks like a place someone would put something on display.”


Something strange began to happen as they approached the curved wall. Some of the carvings, which Faendal said were probably runes, began to glow, and there was faint hum in the air. The closer Zahrassa got, the louder and more defined the humming became, until it was full on chanting in a strange language.


“Do you here that?” She asked, coming to a stop in front of a sealed coffin and staring at the now-brightly glowing carvings.


“...no?” Faendal said after listening for a few minutes.


“I can hear this strange...chanting coming from that wall,” Zahrassa exclaimed, pointing, “and one of those runes is glowing.”


“I think you're just tired,” Faendal explained.


“Maybe you're right.” Zahrassa shrugged, but something just didn't quite feel right. A strange darkness started creeping from the corners of her eyes and she jumped over the coffin, and the glowing rune seemed to be stretching out as if it was about to rope her in and suck her into the wall. The chanting was almost deafening as she finally stood in the middle of the curve, the glowing words floating right in front of her field of vision and blocking everything else out.


Fus.


A sudden crash came from behind Zahrassa as she whirled around, the chanting and glowing stopped almost as soon as it started. A huge, armored draugr rose out of the once-sealed coffin, giving Zahrassa and Faendal barely enough time to ready their weapons. An arrow began to sail right at its sunken face, when...


“FUS...RO DAH!!”


Zahrassa felt the wind get knocked right out of her lungs as her back hit the wall when the blast of energy picked her and Faendal off of the floor and threw them backwards. Gasping, she slid down the wall and barely managed to stay on her feet, the arrow Faendal had fired embedding itself into the wall right next to her head.


“What in Oblivion was that?!” She wheezed as she oriented herself, getting a firm grip on her sword and staring down the draugr that Faendal had somehow managed to shoot full of arrows without even correcting his stance.


“I don't know!” Faendal yelled as the draugr turned its attention back to Zahrassa.


“FU-”


“Oh no you don't!” Zahrassa gasped, grazing its head with her own arrow. “Damn, I missed!”


“You'll learn!” Faendal cried, circling around and hitting the dragur in the back with an arrow. The decomposing being grunted and turned, raising its sword at the Bosmer and shaking it angrily like an old man would shake their cane. Zahrassa tried another arrow and it stuck into one of the horns of its helmet. It turned again, starting to lumber towards the Khajiit when another arrow stuck into its shoulder. When it turned, Zahrassa got an idea.


“Keep it turning around!” She yelled, one of her own arrows grazing its side and forcing it to turn around once more. “It'll be too confused!”


The volley of arrows was exchanged, each one sticking itself into the draugr's armor and confusing it more and more as it kept turning, trying to focus on a single target but getting nowhere. Zahrassa soon ran out or arrows and the draugr finally had its focus on Faendal, who kept firing off as Zahrassa pulled out her sword and dagger. Ignoring the stench of the beast and the little voice in her head that told her to run away from the rotting Nord monster, not towards it, Zahrassa bolted forwards. Iron sword in her right hand and steel dagger in her left, she took a flying jump and plunged both weapons into a small gap in the creature's armor. The dagger embedded in its flesh, the draugr made a strangled cry and tried to turn around.


Zahrassa, using her grip and small size to her advantage once more, grappled on the back of the monster as it tried to find who had just stabbed it in the back. Faendal lowered his aim with his bow and arrow so that he would avoid accidentally shooting Zahrassa and started shooting at the back of its legs while Zahrassa climbed her way up its body and forced her claws out the fingertips of her fur gloves. With one quick, fluid motion, she reached her right arm around its and raked her claws across its throat, using her left hand to shove the back of its head in the opposite direction. Thick, black blood that had not moved in thousands of years coated her claws as she snapped its brittle neck and sent it flying to the floor, killed instantly. The sound its body made as it landed echoed through the room as Zahrassa climbed off, wiping her claws on the front of her armor and shaking her head to try and avoid thinking about just how gross the old blood was.


“Ew, ew, ew, ew!” She whined, flapping her arms when the wiping proved useless. “EW!


“That was impressive,” Faendal said as he put his bow on his back and rooted around in his backpack for a cloth. Zahrassa was still flailing as whining when he soaked it with a bottle of water and struggled to hand it to her without accidentally getting scratched with her bloody claws. “Here, here, calm down! It'll wash off!”


“I may have crawled on thousand-year-old moss earlier but that was just disgusting!” She wailed as she snatched the cloth out of Faendal's hands and started scrubbing furiously. “Fresh blood is one thing, thousand-year-old old draugr blood like that is just...ew!


“Glad to know you have standards in what blood can get all over you or not,” Faendal said, rolling his eyes and bending over the fully dead draugr.


“Well, I am a girl, aren't I? I'd be used to bl-”


“We are not discussing that!” Faendal gasped, turning bright red and becoming extremely interested in the rusted iron helmet that the creature had been wearing prior to Zahrassa's brutal assault on its neck.


“I'm just kidding. I'm too young.”


“Good to know.” Faendal muttered, refusing to look up. Zahrassa giggled, dropping the cloth next to him.


“Thanks, by the way. Now lets find that damn rock,” she said, turning and peeking into the coffin. There was a lot of jewelry and some kind of power inside, which she recognized from some of the alchemy merchandise Idhisa sold and hid from Dro'shuji. “Hey, gimme that empty bottle, I found some good stuff.”


Faendal handed Zahrassa the empty water bottle, then rubbed his hands together and started to peel the aging armor off of the draugr. Zahrassa started funneling some of the bone meal in the bottom of the coffin into the bottle, trying to figure out how much it would be worth. Each scoop with her hands took her farther and farther into the depths of the coffin, when she felt her hand strike something hard and smooth.


“Hey, I found something!” She yelled, setting the bottle of bone meal aside and leaning in to push the remaining amounts out of the way. The moved bone meal soon revealed a large, flat stone with several seemingly disjointed markings covering the top. Flipping it over revealed a small carving of a dragon on the the back. “It's the dragonstone the court wizard wanted!”


“Finally!” Faendal cried wearily, getting up to help Zahrassa drag it out of the coffin. It was a lot heavier that it looked and took a lot of teamwork to get it up and out of the coffin. After a while, they finally had it on the floor and were trying to figure out how to carry it. Eventually, they concluded that they could make a makeshift net out of Zahrassa's extra hide laces, then tie it to her back. It took even longer to manage that, and once it was secured behind her backpack, they began their journey out of the barrow, completely exhausted but alive and in one piece.

The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 7
Finally she's not as much of a wimp.




The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda Softworks, LLC
The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir © Gracie Erickson

{<<< The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir - Act 1, Chapter 6} {CHAPTER 7} {The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 8 >>>}
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Tirdas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Dear Diary:

Okay, so maybe the strict “no negativity” thing isn't going to work out. Also, I might be making a career out of being everyone's errand girl. But more on that later, because right now I'm still giddy with delight over the fact that I got to go inside the walls of Whiterun!


Faendal and I left Riverwood extremely early in the morning, well before sunrise, so that we'd be able to see the Jarl before anyone else showed up. I spent the night at his house, but Gerdur gave me some extra supplies to keep, including a backpack, a new book-holder to hook on to my belt (I found a book in “that place” that I wanted to keep, by the way), and an old brown cloak. I tried to pay her for the things, but she wouldn't take the money.


I had a hard time getting any sleep last night, so I just sat in front of the fire reading the book I had found. It's called The Book of the Dragonborn, an odd coincidence since I found it while running from a dragon. So far its been a very interesting read, especially the whole prophecy about this “Last Dragonborn”. I wonder when he'll come? Or maybe a she! Wouldn't it be cool if the Dragonborn was a woman? Oh, I hope I can meet her (or him) if they show up in my lifetime! Dro'shuji always told me how Khajiit that lived outside of the desert usually live longer than humans, so it could be possible!


Wow, I got really carried away there for a second. I'm just really excited because almost everything went very well today. There was some fighting I had to do, but at least this time around I didn't get hit in the head and I figured how to use my small size to an advantage.


Anyway, this morning. It was pretty cold out when we left Riverwood. There was a wolf on the road that nearly attacked us, but Faendal shot it dead before it got within a few feet of us. I was pretty impressed that he managed to do that in the dark, and then I got treated to the story of the day he took down a bear at three hundred yards in a blizzard! No wonder Camilla was interested in Faendal, he's awesome!


We also passed an Imperial patrol, but they left us alone. I wrapped my cloak very tightly around me to hide the Stormcloak armor I was wearing, just in case. Speaking of which, I really need to get rid of it somehow, I don't like looking at it and it doesn't fit me at all. I don't even know if blacksmiths even make armor that could fit me, since I'm actually shorter than some of the kids I ran into in Whiterun today. Maybe I should learn how to smith so that I can at least make something that will protect me better than just a dress and corset (I don't even know why I wear a corset, to be honest, I have absolutely no “assets”, as M'zami called them).


There were also some people fighting a giant at a farm just outside of the walls, and the woman that seemed to be their ringleader scolded me for not helping. Well, excuse me for being only four feet tall and smart enough to not provoke the ten-foot monster with a huge club in the first place! One of the men said that I “looked strong” and should come to their mead hall in the city to join their group, “The Companions” or something, but I said no thank you. I'm not strong at all, the only reason I survived “that place” was adrenaline and hiding behind stronger people.


The guards outside of the gates tried to stop me from going into the city when I did get there, but I told them that I had information about the dragon and wanted to tell the Jarl. I pulled my “adorable kitten” face that nobody can resist for extra affect, and they let me in right away. Works every time!...well, whenever I'm not with the caravan, at least.


All of these years only getting to see the walls, and now I was finally inside. Let me tell you, Whiterun was as every bit as glorious as I thought it would be. Maybe even better!


I froze the minute the gates shut behind Faendal and I. There was so much to see and do, every part of me was trying to go in a different direction at once! The first thing I had to do was find the Jarl, but how could I do that when there were so many shops and market stalls crowded into one area, all with a bunch of shiny things to look at? And food, there was so much delicious smelling food flooding the market place that my mouth started watering.


I shouldn't have been that impressed (I did grow up in Solitude, after all), but I just couldn't help myself. Its just been so long since I got to go inside the walls of a major city that it was a shock. If this is what Whiterun looks like, then I wonder what Solitude looks like now!


Faendal shook me out of my daze, and we set off trying to figure out how to get to where the Jarl lived. Nobody was really around since it was still kind of early, so it was just the shopkeepers setting up their stalls for the day and a few people stumbling out of one of the taverns. The blacksmith wasn't doing much and looked friendly enough, so I went and asked her where to find the Jarl. As it turns out, her father is the steward, so she was able to point us right to Dragonsreach. She also asked me to deliver a sword she made to her father and said that there would be some money in it for me, so I said yes.


It was a bit scary at Dragonsreach, which I should have expected. You can't exactly go bounding into the Jarl's palace looking like me and not get chased by his housecarl, an angry-looking Dunmer woman named Irileth. And that actually did happen! I went running up the stairs and then boom, there she was, sword out, yelling about needing a summons before I could even think about approaching the Jarl. I had to have Faendal talk us out of that one...


Despite that, I actually got to talk to the Jarl! Me, a fifteen-year-old merchant in training that just stumbled in off the street, actually having a conversation with the Jarl of Whiterun! How cool is that?


Well, what wasn't cool was the fact that this whole thing with the dragon isn't over. The Jarl asked me to go talk to the court wizard, Farengar, who then asked me to go dive into an old Nord burial crypt to find this “dragonstone” for him. He said that since I survived “that place” unscathed (I didn't bother telling him that my skull got smashed a few times and that I'd probably be dead if it weren't for the fact that a Thalmor healed me), I'd be fine in Bleak Falls Barrow (that's what the old crypt is called, by the way). Forget the fact that I have no experience in exploring dungeons, especially ones that are probably full of undead! Ralof mentioned to me when we were first on our way to Riverwood that it was full of draugr and he used to have nightmares about them coming to get him.


But of course, I said yes. I need to keep occupied while I wait for Idhisa to come back for me, and I'll probably get bored just sitting around the city. Might as well make myself useful...though I feel really bad about agreeing to such an adventure without M'zami. She would be head over heels excited about this. I really miss her, I could use her nonstop jabbering right now.


I got my money for delivering the sword to the steward and he told me about how Dragonsreach was built to hold a captive dragon. Maybe we could use it to catch the big black dragon someday, then the Jarl could charge everyone a Septim to come see it up close. The kids would love it, and I'm sure that the court wizard would enjoy it even more, since he was bursting with excitement over the return of this dragon (even thought it would probably eat him in one bite if it got close enough).


We still had the rest of the day to kill, so Faendal and I went down to the market to look at everything that was for sale. Faendal got talking with the wood elf that was tending the meat stand, and I had flashbacks to when Erisla would take me to the market with her and stand there talking to a friend for hours and hours. Well, what felt like “hours and hours”, I was a little kid with no perception of time, after all. I eventually told Faendal to meet me at the inn, The Bannered Mare, in the evening and wandered off on my own.


It was a bit frightening walking through the market on my own, being as small as I am. People don't always see me in their path and will knock me right over without noticing. It was a real problem when I was younger, I couldn't let go of Erisla or Sigirek's hand without someone nearly stepping on me. They always told me that I was just a “runt” and would get taller when I'm older, so there's still hope that I can at least get to five feet before I turn twenty.


It was later this evening when things got really interesting. While I was looking at the produce that one woman was selling, we got to talking. It started when the woman asked how old I was and where my parents were, since she didn't recognize me and “I seemed a little young to be wandering around on my own”. I told her that I'm actually fifteen and that I was visiting the city with a family friend for a while (a lie, I know, but it made more sense than “I don't know if my parents are alive or not, I got separated from the people who have been caring for me and they are in Cyrodiil, I nearly got my head chopped off by the Imperials a few days ago, and now I'm running around with a male wood elf who I just met because I don't have anything else to do, also there's a giant dragon flying around and I'm a little traumatized by that so please stop asking questions”). Our conversation carried on from there, and I learned a few things about her. Her name is Carlotta Valentina, she has a daughter named Mila who is six years younger than me, and men give her a lot of attention that she doesn't want. The one who gives her the most problems is this bard named Mikael, who works at the Bannered Mare. For some reason I offered to talk to him for her, and Carlotta laughed (what can a fifteen-year-old do?), but she said that if I wanted to try, go right ahead.


I spent some more time milling about in the market and visited the general store to see what was fore sale, too. The shopkeeper was this creepy Breton man, but he sold me some hide laces and a large brown satchel for a discount because I was “cute” (what a creep). I figured that I could use the hide laces to string up my armor so that it would fit better until I could get something that was actually my size. A set of Elven armor would be the best, because, according to Sigirek, it has magical properties. The most obvious one is that it will mold to the size of whoever wears it, hence why it would be best for me. I could buy any size and it would fit my small frame, and if I do grow at all, it will mold to that as well. It never needs to be replaced! Shame that it's often associated with the Thalmor...


When I was done shopping, I went to the inn for the night to wait for Faendal, and that was when I had my encounter with the bard. And boy was that interesting...


&%&%&%&


All was quiet in the main room of the inn, save for the few conversations that were being held between the small amount of patrons that were there. The only person who looked up was the elderly Nord woman behind the counter, who nodded at Zahrassa as she cautiously came closer.


“I don't think I've seen you around before,” The Nord woman said as she wiped a tankard clean.


“I'm just visiting for a while,” Zahrassa answered as she pulled herself up into the bar seat.


“You look a little young to be here all on your own,” the Nord observed as she set the clean tankard down and rested her arms on the counter.


“I'm fifteen. I'm just small for my age,” Zahrassa huffed, trying to make herself look bigger by puffing out her chest and sitting up as straight as she could. “And I'm not alone. I've been traveling with a family friend.”


“If you say so,” the woman said with a small grin. “Can I get you anything?”


“Just some water, please,” Zahrassa answered, taking a few fast glances out of the corner of her eyes. She pulled on her headscarf a few times to make it sure it was still covering her hair while the woman turned around to pour some water out for Zahrassa. She quickly dropped her hands when the Nord turned around and gave her the tankard of water. “Thank you.”


“I'm surprised that you didn't ask for mead.”


“I'm too young,” Zahrassa said after taking a drink of her water.


“That hasn't stopped kids younger than you from drinking.”


“Alcohol doesn't sit well with Khajiit my age. It makes us very ill.” Zahrassa explained, regurgitating information that Sigirek had told her many years ago when she had gotten curious about her people. “If I were twenty it would be safer.”


“Oh, I see.” The woman continued to wipe the counter and dirty tankards, silence falling in the inn once again.


It was an hour or so later when people finally started filing into the inn for the evening. Zahrassa slipped out of her seat and began looking for the bard so that she could talk to him about Carlotta. Spotting a blond man with a lute resting at his feet in a darkened corner, she meandered over, sitting down in the empty seat next to him.


“Are you Mikael?” She asked innocently, intertwining her fingers together.


“That I am, lass.” Mikael answered, looking up from his drink and nearly double-taking when he laid eyes on Zahrassa. It took him a few seconds to regain his composure. “I apologize for that, I did not expect a Khajiit to sound as elegant as you do.”


Zahrassa felt her heart flutter; a real man complimenting her! Usually it was just M'zami who got the attention from men, while Zahrassa was viewed as little more than a small child that followed her around. Maybe the corset worked after all?


“Why thank you. It took a lot of practice.” She answered, flushing a little while remembering her task. She didn't exactly expect that Mikael would flirt with her since she looked so much like a child, but it was dark in the corner. Maybe he just couldn't see and would backpedal the minute he saw what she looked like.


“It appears so,” he said, leaning a little closer to Zahrassa. “So, is there something you wanted?”


“Yes, I wanted to talk about Carlotta Valentina. She wants you leave her alone.” Mikael leaned back in his chair, scowling.


“I assume that you're just jealous. You want her for yourself, don't you? Well, I'm sorry, but that fiery widow is mine. She just doesn't know it yet.”


Wow, that didn't take long... Zahrassa thought to herself, sitting up a little straighter. “She wants nothing to do with you.”


“Oh?”


“Yeah, so leave her alone. Or else.”


“'Or else' what?” Mikael asked quietly, standing up. Zahrassa gulped; she hadn't actually thought that one through...


“Or else...I'll...I'll fight you.” Zahrassa stuttered out, also standing up. The light was now cast better on her, and Mikael almost started to laugh.


“You? I don't know, stranger, you don't exactly look like a fighter!” He laughed. Some of the other patrons turned to look at the confrontation that was about to happen between the two. Zahrassa didn't exactly want an audience and was seriously considering backing down, but she did want to help Carlotta. Plus, this Mikael looked and sounded like a difficult piece of work, and that just wouldn't do.


“You want to test that?” She snarled, raising her tiny fists.


“Fine. You're on.” He cried, also raising his fists and taking a swing at Zahrassa. She let out a startled squeak and ducked out of the way just in time.


Why don't I think things like this through?! Why?! She thought as she ducked another blow. Without thinking, she shut her eyes and struck out at whatever happened to be in front of her.


“By the Divines!” Mikael gasped, doubling over as Zahrassa opened her eyes. He was leaning over heavily, clutching his...


Huh, so M'zami WAS right, it does hurt them... Zahrassa brought her left foot around in a swift kick that made contact with the side of Mikael's leg, and with that, he was down. She turned her head to glance at the patrons that were watching, and two men exchanged a small amount of gold with each other. Zahrassa looked back down at her opponent, lowering her fists.


“Will you leave her alone now?” She asked quietly.


“Yes, on my honor, I'll leave her alone!” Mikael gasped, still in pain from Zahrassa's harsh punch to the groin.


“Good. See you around, I guess,” she said, turning away from the writhing Nord and walking into the parting crowd. She found Faendal sitting by the fire, staring at her as if she had grown an extra tail. “What?”


“I...did not expect that.” Faendal answered, shaking his head a little to get rid of his shocked expression.


“I didn't, either.” Zahrassa shrugged, sitting down next to him.


“How did you do that?”


“I don't think you want to know,” she answered, staring into the flames and crossing her arms.


&%&%&%&


So there you go. I just won my first fistfight with a man twice my size by punching him in the...you get the idea.


Faendal and I have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, so I'm going to stop writing soon. I need energy for going through Bleak Falls Barrow. Winning that fight with Mikael has given me a little bit of confidence. As long a draugr still have the right...things...I should be just fine!


- Zahrassa

The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir - Act 1, Chapter 6
The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim © Bethesda Softworks, LLC
The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir © Gracie Erickson

{<<< The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir - Act 1, Chapter 5} {CHAPTER 6} {The Diary of Zahrassa Barahir: Act 1, Chapter 7 >>>}
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Journal History

deviantID

Crazylittleloon
Grace Erickson
Artist | Student | Literature
United States
So I finally got around to putting my actual first name on here. I've gone by my pseudonym for a while on here because I'm a paranoid fuck, but...well, I've gotten a bit better about that, ha.

I'm nineteen, neurotic, and a writer. I seem like an egotistical jackass but I'm actually not, I just pretend to be so I feel better about myself. I enjoy doing stupid shit for other's amusement, video games, and playing with my babies (cats, in case you were wondering).

I'm in my first year of studying for a degree in Creative Writing and will probably go into editing, but my dream job is to be a stand-up comedian.

I've been writing Skyrim fanfiction as of late, because I don't have the time to commit to something of my own at this time. I also want to save any ideas I get for NaNoWriMo, which I have won four years in a row.

I'm extremely skilled at knitting and crochet, which I do a lot in my free time. I make very cute baby hats and can churn a bunch out in one day as long as I don't have any cuts on my fingers. But I just recently moved to the land of snow and crack-houses (aka Northern Pennsylvania) and accidentally left all of my supplies behind. Sob.

I also draw on occasion, but I'm not all that good at it. I mostly do it to get a feel for what my characters look like or if I'm stuck in a boring class.

I speak fluent English and German, enough Russian to not get shot, and am learning Finnish.
Interests

Day Twenty-two - 22/11/2014

Current Word Count: 31,634

Words to Go: 18,366

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Ten

Characters Slaughtered: 7

Cups of Tea Consumed: 20

Best Quote from Today: I actually have two, because they’re equally hilarious.

1. “Lydia asked me where my sword was, I told her that I lost up a dragon’s nose, and I swear to Khenthari the look she gave me could have set me on fire.” - Zahrassa Barahir, Act One, Chapter Nine

2. “I may have crawled on thousand-year-old moss earlier but that was justdisgusting!” She wailed as she snatched the cloth out of Faendal’s hands and started scrubbing furiously. “Fresh blood is one thing, thousand-year-old old draugr blood like that is just…ew!

“Glad to know you have standards in what blood can get all over you or not,” Faendal said, rolling his eyes and bending over the fully dead draugr.

“Well, I am a girl, aren’t I? I’d be used to bl-”

“We are not discussing that!” Faendal gasped, turning bright red and becoming extremely interested in the rusted iron helmet that the creature had been wearing prior to Zahrassa’s brutal assault on its neck. - Act One, Chapter Seven

Sanity Level: I spent several hours in a small car with my dad making dad jokes non-stop yesterday, do I look fucking sane to you?!

Character of the Day + GIF:

Cirya, age 90

image

A snarky Altmer Conjuration student at the College of Winterhold, Cirya (no relation to Nirya, the other snarky Altmer student) is noted for her fearlessness, lack of good judgement, and the loud arguments that she gets into with Ancano in the middle of the night. She has an interesting in necromancy that often frightens others.

Zahrassa would like to be friends, but there’s just something off about Cirya that keeps everyone away, and it isn’t the necromancy that they’re afraid of.

I got home yesterday, and the words have been flowing. I'm actually almost caught up! How cool is that, ya'll?! :D





Day Twenty - 20/11/2014

Current Word Count: 26,449

Words to Go: 23,551

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Nine

Characters Slaughtered: 5

Cups of Tea Consumed: 17

Best Quote from Today: 

“Please don’t make me do this again,” she sighed, turning to face the dead dragon and wiping a small hunk of dragon flesh off of her ear. “And I need a new sword.”

“Did you break it?” A guard asked.

“No, I jammed it up the son of a bitch’s nose and I really don’t want to touch it again.” - Act One, Chapter Eight

Sanity Level: Nope

Character of the Day + GIF:

M’nara Barahir, age 42

image

Zahrassa’s missing biological mother whose life is shrouded in mystery. She was an apprentice Restoration mage in Torval, Elsweyr before the family fled to Skyrim and became travelling merchants. Also very pretty, but other than that, nothing is known about her. Well at least to you people. I am Loon and I know all.

Hasn’t been seen since 4E 191 and once killed a bunch of Thalmor single-handedly while nine months pregnant.





Day Eighteen - 18/11/2014

Current Word Count: 22,024

Words to Go: 27,976

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Seven

Characters Slaughtered: 1

Cups of Tea Consumed: 15

Best Quote from Today: ”So there you go. I just won my first fistfight with a man twice my size by punching him in the…you get the idea.” - Zahrassa Barahir, Act One, Chapter Six

Sanity Level: Eh

Character of the Day + GIF:

Falanar Joriane, Second Emissary of Skyrim, age 436

image

Disgraced and demoted ten years prior to the events of the story, Falanar has been trying to repair his reputation with the Thalmor by hunting down some of the Dominion’s most wanted. His current target is none other than Dragonborn Zahrassa Barahir herself, as well as her biological parents, for reasons unknown to Zahrassa. He will stop at nothing to have them in his clutches no mater who or what he drags down with him.

Really needs to be repeatedly beaten over the head with a stick.

I'm starting to get my groove back after switching to third person. And I wrote 5,000 words in one sitting. Help.





Day Fourteen - 14/11/2014

Current Word Count:
 10,770

Words to Go: 39,230

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter Five

Characters Slaughtered: 1

Cups of Tea Consumed: 12

Best Quote from Today: “The gist of it was this: Sven the Nord and Faendal the Bosmer were both in love with Camilla the Imperial. Sven says it’s ridiculous that Faendal thinks he can win Camilla by just being her friend. Faendal says it’s ridiculous that Sven thinks he can win Camilla with just poetry and other bard stuff. I say “why are you asking me, I’m fifteen”. -Zahrassa BarahirAct One, Chapter Five

Sanity Level: I just wrote 8,000 words in one sitting. I am not okay.

Character of the Day + GIF:

M’zami Kharstee, age 17

The excitable, overly flirtatious best friend of Zahrassa who always wants to go on an adventure of some kind. Whether it’s attempting to poke the sleeping caravan guard or scaling the walls of Markarth, wherever M’zami goes, a (slightly unwilling) Zahrassa and a (very disappointed) parent named Idhisa will follow.

She’s very plump and not afraid to use her “assets” to get what she wants from people. Truly a fabulous force to be reckoned with, especially with the amount of piercings and beads in her long hair.

~~~~~

So I haven’t updated in a while. That’s because my ex-roommate was evil and drained most of my energy. Also, research papers. But it’s the weekend and I’m determined to catch up, even if I need to force myself to listen to Justin Bieber to get to that point.

May God have mercy on my soul.



Day One - 1/11/2014

Current Word Count: 1350

Words to Go: 48,650

Current Chapter: Act One, Chapter One

Characters Slaughtered: 0

Cups of Tea Consumed: 0

Best Quote from Today: "I'm told it's like writing letters to myself about what the days have been like, how I'm feeling, stuff like that, so I guess I should write myself an introduction..? So here we go." - Zahrassa Barahir, Act 1, Chapter 1

Sanity Level: Was I ever really sane?

Character of the Day + GIF:

Zahrassa Barahir, age 15

The tiny, enthusiastic redhead who is always brightens a room always tries to maintain an optimistic outlook at all times, even when everything is terrible and mysteries surround her. She often doesn’t give herself enough credit and prefers to hide behind those bigger and stronger. Her skills in emotion manipulation are unmatched.

Probably the happiest main character I’ve ever written.

~~~~


We're off to a slow, but steady start! Will I be able to handle college and NaNoWriMo at the same time? Stay tuned to find out!





Well folks, NaNoWriMo 2014 starts on Saturday, and, as always, I'll be driving myself insane by participating.

However, this year has the added bonus of me being in college with multiple papers to write and an addiction to Skyrim. I'm a bit late to the party with it since it started ruining lives in 2011, but what-fucking-ever. :shrug:

This year, my story will be based in Skyrim (of course) and follow the adventures of my Dragonborn as a deconstruction of a Mary Sue. Basically she just wants to be normal, but the "but thou must" trope and the plot of Skyrim itself gets in the way and makes her look like one as she bumbles along trying to figure the whole thing out.

It'll be fun, I promise.
  • Mood: Triumph
  • Listening to: Thanks for the Memories - Fall Out Boy
  • Reading: The Culture of Fear by Barry Glassner
  • Watching: Netflix
  • Playing: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
  • Eating: Tea
  • Drinking: Chocolate cake

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DementedInk Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2014
THANKS so much for the fave.
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Crazylittleloon Featured By Owner Oct 27, 2014  Student Writer
No problem.
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youve had the same icon for like 4 years or something now 
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Yup.
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its a belarus cosplay right 
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Yup.
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Merry Birthmasween!!! :cake::hooray::party::dance:
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Thanks. :la:
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Happy birthday! :la:
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Thank you! :la:
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You're welcome. :) How was it?
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Great!
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You are a funny one :la::la:
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Danke
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Thank you so much for the faves and the watch! :hug:
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love your art *
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Your name is Grace????

I never would have guessed. It's cute!
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:iconcrazylittleloon:
Crazylittleloon Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2014  Student Writer
Yep, that's my real name. :D

Everyone calls me Gracie, though. I was always one of multiple in a single class, so to differentiate me from the others everyone would use (and horribly botch the pronunciation of) my last name. I got sick of it so in middle school I had the option of switching to going by my middle name or Gracie, I chose Gracie, and it just stuck ever since then.

Thank you! I don't really live up to it, though, I have less grace than a toddler on a treadmill. :giggle:
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:iconprincess-rufflebutt:
Princess-Rufflebutt Featured By Owner Feb 4, 2014  Student General Artist
It's much better than my name! Brie is a type of french cheese. :p
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