11th of First Seed

The abandoned tavern itself was not in its best shape. Half of the building had taken damage long ago and part of its wooden roof had collapsed. Inside, nature had spored overtime, as if it was reclaiming the foundations back into greenery. Moss webbed along the cracks of stones as plants begun their youth where the patches of sunlight seemed to be most fond of. Paint was peeling off sandstone walls and the brewery's bronze pipes and brew-kettles had long began to age. Vines seeped in from the outside, and beyond the broken windows was the lustrous pine forest that covered the valley all the way to the blue horizon like waves of a green sea. The soles of my leather boots tapped lightly across the room as I observed the makeshift shelter. It was covered enough, and there was plenty of room to even make a small fire before nightfall in the center. There were even old posters still glued upon the walls. Curiously, I had approached one and smeared away the dust from it with my palm. Even though it was faded and the edges were torn, a crusader soldier stood proud before me. A chirp behind me brought my attention away. A blue sparrow tweeted and clipped its little beak upon a metal structure protruding from a grasp of vines. I made my way over, vials tinkling against my waist as I walked. The bird fled as I approached, and my eyes befell the broken oddity before me. What was it? I wondered aloud as my fingers touched along the coldness of its shell.. Nothing happened and I eventually withdrew, removing my backpack and bedroll onto the old bar. Adventure was calling for me outside. Perhaps a stroll around wouldn't be so bad? After all, I could always come back here and there is plenty of time still left in the day.

10th of First Seed

I had heard tales that Skyrim was a beautifully cold and dangerous place. When they came and destroyed our village― our ancestry,  I had no choice but to flee into the Nordic motherland. It wouldn't be until I reached the mountains where we planned to meet up with the others did I realize I was alone from here on forth. I travelled west, to where the stories of my people had guided me. I am unsure as to what exactly I will find there, but too many thoughts excite my preservation to continue. I need to consciously remind myself to stop and rest, or else I will find myself getting hurt. I had stopped by a stream, where I eventually set up camp and was able to rest my weary feet. I wasn't far, nature around me gives me signs that I am close to a path my ancestors once walked upon many years ago. What would it be like, to see another member of the Order? To meet one of my people? Will they welcome me back? Or has the fates been unfavourable and I will be shown nothing? Tomorrow I continue my journey. May the warm winds guide me.