Ka'Jael's second entry

Craming the golden elven helmet down over the head of the mannequin I let out a sigh of exhaustion. I still have loads of things to move from my cabin to this home. Even though I had the steward put up warm and friendly torches as well as light up the fireplace, this house still has something gruefully eerie about it. I remember lockpicking my way into this house when I was investigating the murder of the young woman in the graveyard and then discovering the necromancy sacrifice that'd been going on. It was even still here after my buying the house. Gladly I could persuade the steward to clean it up for me in exchange of a minor payment. With a soaked hand I wipe over the gauntlets matching the helmet before I wipe it off on my shoulders and realize that now I'm covered in the dust that this house seems to produce as was it the only thing it knew. The walls here are covered in display plates which I find quite useful since I have been collecting swords from all around. Now that al the gore has been removed, this house is far more comforting than my old cabin in Riften; even though I must admit that I miss Iona's greetings when Lydia and I return from our quests.

- Ka'Jael 'Stormblade' Sheth

Ka'Jael's first entry

The flames scorches the leather hood I'm pulling down to cover my face. With my spare hand I wipe the blood off of my whiskers, the blood of the dragon towards which I am charging with my drawn Dragonbane. I wasn't made for slaying dragons, I was born with my hand in someone else's pocket but it really seems I have no choice. Had I had such a choice, I doubt I would have ever even left det warm sands of Elsweyr. The thoughts of my homeland and being amongst my own kin never leaves my thoughts though my attention is needed in the present. An arrow swiftly brushes past my face and pierces its way in between the dragon's rough scales. Lydia is a better archer than she is a close combat warrior but this time I have requested she keep a distance so we at least not both are set on fire. It's far more tricky, fighting the vile creatures up here in the mountains. His heavy body slams against the ground as he lands and his tail knocks over a massive tree. Bright light shrouds me for a moment as I take use of my newly accuired mage skills, healing myself as they taught it at The College of Winterhold. I stand ready before him and take in a deep breath before I release an equally fiery roar to match his, a shout of ancient language, to tell him off, to let him know I'm the one.

- Ka'Jael 'Stormblade' Sheth

Namiaa's first entry

My heart aches if not of my disappointment of betrayal then of sorrow. Astrid when behind my back on behalf of the family, she did what she thought was right and I can't blame her for that even though it pained me as much as anything ever did, putting her own blade to her heart. I wouldn't expect Nazir to join me in my mourning. I suspect he's alwyas had a bad eye for Astrid. Even though he did mention to me how be would only answer to her and take orders from her, I think it was merely out of lack of an alternative, and to him the Night Mother certainly wasn't one. I still have Shadowmere, her red-eyed horse, with whom I cross the land. Sometimes it feels as if she is whispering to me through the sound of his hooves. Maybe I am confusing the emptiness I feel after the loss of Astrid with the gloomy mood Kodlak's death has left the Companions with. The twins, my rocks, they rarely ever speak to me and I rarely see them around anymore. I feel guilty for taking his place as Harbringer and I suspect with reason. I try to keep a distance but my brothers of coat are giving me a hard time. O how I hope my misery will come to an end soon. Before I wither.

- Namiaa of the Nord