It’s been several hours since we left Whiterun, and we’ve been traveling non-stop, save for that incident with the thief where I totally wasn’t helpless. I’m pretty hungry, so I propose we stop for a bit to eat something. I get no complaints from Ghorbash, but Jenassa is resistant, and feels the need to make a hurtful comment likening me to a princess. She does relent, however, and we pull off the road to a clearing. While we’re taking a break, I decide to share what I’ve come up with in the past few hours for my commemorative composition.
Why do I feel like Jenassa is going to be the Skyrim equivalent of Simon Cowell?
Grawnk is pretty fatalistic about life. I don’t mean that he believes everything is predetermined, because he believes the exact opposite, but he is of the philosophy that what is done is done, and there’s no point in dwelling on it. Being as emotional as Grawnk can be, this isn’t always 100% the case. Outwardly, Grawnk might wish he had killed his father, but inwardly, It is very unlikely he would if presented with the opportunity. This reasoning can’t be fully explained, but if I had to guess, it’s probably because Madrog was once important to Arliah.
Not wanting to keep Ghorbash and Jenassa waiting any longer than I have to, I hurriedly throw on my armor, and eat my breakfast as I’m walking out of the Bannered Mare. I bump into the door frame on my way out on account of my eyes still being half shut from having just woken up. Once outside, the brisk air succeeds in opening my eyes the rest of the way, and my mental fog rolls away as well. I can’t believe this day has finally come.
Below is my narration of this entry. Hope you enjoy.
My room in the Bannered Mare comes slowly into focus as I open my eyes. The shadowy tendrils of my dreams swirl around in my memory for a few moments, but they soon dance out of existence, leaving me to wonder why my stomach feels as though it has knots in it. As my grogginess subsides, I quickly remember what today is: the first day of my journey to Dead Men’s Respite. I feel one of the knots tighten. Continue reading →
Below is my narration of this entry of An Orc’s Life. I’m doing this mainly so I can improve my voice, but if you all end up liking it, that’s cool too. I did not even attempt to edit this, and it was my first attempt, read without stopping. Now that my qualifiers are out of the way, let me know what you think.
Much time has passed since the night I got plastered after having my ass handed to me by an overgrown insect. In many ways, I am not the same Orc anymore. That following morning I woke up to a Whiterun guard yelling at me to get up, which I thought was rather rude till I discovered I was not in my room at the Bannered Mare, but in a tent I had drunkenly constructed in front of the main gate the night before. A little embarrassed, and a lot hungover, I packed up my tent and left to get some breakfast.
While I am dismounting Karinda, I hear Meeko barking in the distance, and finally, he catches up to me. We need to get you your own horse, don’t we boy? I laugh at my own joke, but it’s lost on Meeko. Dogs have such poor senses of humor. Right. New town, new opportunities. So, my animal companions, what awaits me in this great city; this testament to modern architecture, this monument to man’s achievements, this – huh? A Whiterun guard has approached, and interrupted my attempt at a poetic moment with my dog and horse.