So it turns out staying at The Winking Skeever was one of the best ideas I ever had. Last night as I had found myself a good chair close to the fireplace, just leaning back before I retreated to my room and listening to the tones of agression off the thoat of a young Bard out of the College, a grey-haired Nord pulled his chair to mine and pushed towards me one of two cups of mead. It turns out he was a selfproclaimed sellsword and had long been looing for someone matching his skill to drive out on adventure with. I agreed that he could travel with me, had he the skills. That same evening he and I ran down the steep path from Solitude and Westwards on till we bumped into a little more than I had hoped for. The troll saw us before we saw it so we had no chance of getting out of its way without a fight. Belrand, as he had told me his name to be, dragged the iron sword from his belt and a fire lit up in his spare hand. By the hands of the two of us, the troll saw his end by blade and flames and I must admit that for a Nord, he wasn't half bad with his magic. As we walked back to The Winking Skeever, I promised him that we could go adventuring together if he met my condition of letting me dress him in less bumpy armor. He had to think it through a little but in the end I had him convinced. Tomorrow I will show him the power of elven craftmanship and then we will be heading down South. I've always wanted to visit the Temple of Mara.
- Viarinn Lorén
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