Fin's fifth entry

The evening proceeded, three four five bottles of mead uncapped and shared, I had to hold onto my flagon with both hands not to slide off my stool. My fellowship was more than commonly generous and I had yet to tie up my own purse which was a slight relief because on my long travel to Riften, I had had to stop at more than one place to rest and beds aren't cheap for 'outsiders'. Little does it help that I've lived in Skyrim nearly my entire life, it's the ears. I wasn't quite sure of how much I had left on me and even though I did carry a handful for gemstones on me, I wasn't too keen on having to pay my drinks with them, that would just be an inch too cheap. But apparently it was never necessary because my elven brother kept and I exchanged stories for hours, mine of iron and blood, his of wealth and boredom. There was something rather compelling about his telling of becoming fed up with the stuffed up plutocrat's life so much that he joined up with a band of thieves, not for the sake of gaining riches but to escape the dullness. There was too something alluring about the way he told of how he had too left his fiancée, an apparently beautiful countess, and how he couldn't hide a malicious smile when he told of her face absolved in tears. During this part of his story, I noticed to myself that I had grabbed hold of his bow that was leaned against his stool. As well as serving as a finely placed supporting cane that reassured that I wouldn't just slip off my seat and unnecessarily embarrass myself, it had a certain cool to it that spread to my fingers as I ran them up along its upper shaft with my fingertips only brushing over it gently. Around 4am or so the crowd was thinning out and us two Bosmer were the only ones left in the Bee and Barb save the priest of Mara who was half asleep on a wooden bench anyway. It had grown increasingly harder for me to keep sat up straight, so much that when I tipped over and landed with my head in my company's lap, I didn't have a chance of getting back up again and therefore stayed there. I looked up at him with a stare that must have seemed quite silly and for the first time, as I could see up under his hood from here below, I saw his eyes which revealed that he wasn't exactly sober either. I clutched my hand around his bow and opened my mouth to suggest I paid for my own drinks or at least for a bed for the night, or what was left of it, but he politely cut me off. "I think you are going to need somewhere to stay for the night." I must have spent far too long pondering about how that even made sense, since we were already in an inn, because he slipped his arm round my back and lifted me up as one would a little child or a precious pet. He nodded to the still as awful looking Argonian inn keeper as he flung a few septims on the counter before carefully placing his hand on my back and guiding me towards the exit door of the inn.

- Fin Larksong

Fin's fourth entry

Time to admit. Okay. Riften isn't as big as I had imagined it. In my head it was a massive metropolis of fishing, hunting and bargaining, a city stuffed with people and voices breaking each other off. I had heard so many stories from Lucan who would travel to Riften to sell or buy goods, not always legally I suspect. Perhaps he had spiced up the stories for the sake of entertainment or perhaps they just sounded far more impressive because I was a young lad then. But here I was, Sun was setting and the dusty rain was tapping on my hood. Not many people were outside, I suspected they had all just packed up because of the rain, so I headed towards the building from which the most noise and light seemed to come. I turned the corner to discover its sign flapping about in the wind; The Bee and Barb. I opened the door and slipped in quietly not to draw anymore attention to myself than needed. I quickly saw that my carefulness was ill needed because everyone was minding theirs and the door couldn't be heard over the sound of loud conversation. It was a wonderful sight to have walked into such a lively place, more lively than the Sleeping Giant Inn had ever been. A pale looking Argonian woman with horrid eyes was stood behind the counter, yelling at an Argonian man with a broomstick. Not wanting to disturb the woman in the midst of her conversation, I slipped onto a stool by the counter next to a leather hooded figure already occupying the stool next to the one I had claimed. I unhooked my bow, that was attached to my back and placed it leaning against the counter on the floor. Or that is, I would have put it there wasn't it for an other bow already in its place, a golden one of Elven-looking craftsmanship. I kept glaring at it for a moment, compared to my home-crafted wooden bow, this was a magnificent piece of work. "A marksman, eh?" I looked up at the owner of the soft voice to see a face whose top half was hidden behind a leather hood yet the jaws and the lips ratted him out to me. "A fellow kinsman, I see. Such a handsome bow." His mouth fell into shape of a discreet smile and he reached out for me to shake his hand. "Keerava, get my Elven-brother a bucket of ale."

- Fin Larksong

Fin's third entry

It wasn't hard to decide that I wanted to leave home and travel to Riften. Something about that place had always had me drawn somehow. Rumor has it that the Thieves Guild hides underneath the city in the sewers and oddly enough they might be the ones I will have to seek out. I have always looked up to my brother Faendal, he is a great hunter but he lacks something vital, something that keeps him from lifting above the great hunter and become a superior one. He hasn't got the sneakiness. I have been practicing fading into one with the shadows but I can't seem to quite get the hang of it and I'm not sure what I'm doing wrongly and that is why I have been playing with the thought of finding a sort of mentor. I set off my journey with a home-crafted bow and arrows of Imperial iron stuffed tightly and neatly in their sheath on my back. I had never been very far from home but this was the time. I told Faendal that I wasn't going to disappear, I'd come back once in a while to visit him. The road to Riften from Riverwood goes through a mountain pass where I had never been. I have never been one to be fond of the cold and the snow, which in itself makes it rather stupid to have set up home in a place like Skyrim. Luckily the way there wasn't a very harsh one when I first had gotten through the pass.On the other side was fairly flat and the sun did lay like a scarf on the back of my neck, that is, before it began raining. It later came to my knowledge that that wasn't too unusual in the Rift. The actual journey there wasn't in any way as epic as I had imagined it to be even though it was a long one and I had to stop for the night several places on the way but when I finally stood by the gates to Riften and a guard unlocked them for me, I was greeted by a scent of salt and smoke and it drew me in in the exact way that I had hoped.

- Fin Larksong

Fin's second entry

I was far off. Had I only been as lucky as getting to serve time in jail. As the horse carriages finally arrived after spending three days straight locked up like pit wolves, I discovered something I knew was a a bad sign. On these carriages were already sat some men dressed in colours I recognized all too easily. The four passengers divided onto two wagons were dressed in Stormcloak cuirasses. Rebels. And only a fool knows not what happens to Stormcloaks. I realized then that the horse thief and I were not headed for prison, we were headed for the block. We were sat on the wagons and I must have had the whitest face. I, who you know isn't one for being quiet, didn't say a word on the entire trip to Helgen. When we finally reached the damned village, we were picked off the wagon one by one. The horse thief, whose name for some reason has slipped my mind, was actually dumb enough to try and make a run for it. It was a single arrow through his chest and he was on the ground. You know I'm not particularly squeamish but I just couldn't look when the first of the rebels had his head in a basket. "Your turn, elf." I heard from beside me, the voice seemed oddly familiar. I turned my gaze that had till then been locked at my feet, only to be met by a familiarity I hadn't expected. By my side stood Hadvar. He wasn't looking at me till he noticed my glaring. "Fin, what are you doing here?!" He sounded as surprised I was that we would bump into each other here. I explained to him my accident and even though he tried to keep a straight face, he nearly cracked up in laughter. Of course I shouldn't be there, he said, but they had had a hard time picking up criminals and lowlifes recently and they had become desperate to pick up anyone. He left me standing for a moment while he went to talk to another guard. After a bit of arguing I couldn't hear at all, Hadvar came back to me and untied the ropes around my wrists. He saved me when I was just a few minutes from seeing my head roll away from my body. They let me go and I returned to Riverwood.

- Fin Larksong