I've spent some time in Riverwood, taking Ralof's advice to let the heat die down from the Helgen incident. As such, I've spent a little time doing favors for the townsfolk.

• Ralof told me of Embershard Mine, a modest little shaft that had been overrun with bandits. It was easy enough to clear them out, and I was able to collect some of the gear they had made.
• While selling the gear from the mine and what I looted at Helgen, I overheard the shopkeep, Lucan Vallerius, arguing with his sister Camilla. Turns out, bandits had stolen an item of great value to Lucan: an ornamental Dragon's Claw made of solid gold. His sister guided me to the edge of town and gave me directions to the nearby ruins, Bleak Falls Barrow. It felt good to go on a quest again, even if the reward wasn't gonna be a lot. Though at least I got to bash in a couple green-skin skulls on the way. Seeing bandits occupying the ruins of my ancestors made my blood boil, and it felt good purging them from the site. About halfway through, I encountered a giant Frostbite Spider. It was a much longer fight than most of the chumps I had to go through. Trapped in a web was the thief who stole the Claw from Lucan. And what do you know, it was an Ash-skin. He begged me to let him down, and I did. I channeled my inner fire according to Jhunal's teachings, and burned the webs. And kept burning until the cursed elf was dead. On his body was the Claw, and a journal. Turns out, this knife-ear thought he could steal the power of my ancestors. Idiot. Though he did reveal that the Claw is the key to the innermost sanctum of Bleak Falls Barrow. Continuing on, I found an unfortunate sight. The dead warriors buried in the Barrow awoke as Draugr. Must have been the elf's presence that did it. I laid my ancient brothers and sisters to rest again, and came upon the inner sanctum. The thief's notes said that the way in is "in the palm of my hand". Looking at the door, it was clearly some kind of puzzle lock. My mother told me that our ancestors made them to keep out the unworthy. The rings of the lock have symbols of a bear, an owl, and a moth. The walls of the hallway are even decorated with carvings of Tsun, Jhunal, and Dibella. The part that unlocks the door looks like the Claw I was sent to retrieve. Looking at it's palm, I found the correct combination for the door, and walked in. I'll admit, I wasn't expecting a mostly natural cave behind the door; and I certainly didn't expect to find what looked like a massive alter with what I can only describe as a curved wall on only one side. And the strangest thing happened to me as I walked up the steps. I heard chanting, as if the spirits of Sovngarde themselves were making their presence known to me. The world seemed to darken, and a series of carvings on the wall started glowing. Streams of power flowed towards me as I stepped closer, and before I knew it, something burned itself into my mind. A word of some kind. FUS. I didn't have long to ponder what it could mean before the coffin behind me burst open, releasing a rather strong looking Draugr. It didn't last much longer than the others, though. By the Nine, I love warhammers! After doing some looting (What? It's not like they'll use it! They're dead!) and returned to Riverwood. Lucan and Camilla were both very pleased with the Claw's return, though Lucan seemed a bit suspicious when I gave it back. Regardless, I went to do some selling to lighten my load. And I even got a backpack to replace the one I lost! Has a bottle-holder and everything!
• The next day, Camilla told me of her love life woes. Apparently, the local bard and a struggling huntsman are both vying for her affection. Sven, the Bard, is already courting her. But Faendal, the Wood Elf hunter, is trying to undermine that courtship (like a typical Elf). I decided to talk to them both about it. Faendal gave me a letter, and told me to say that it was from Sven. It was such a nasty letter! Of course a knife-ear would come up with a plan like that! But then, to my shock and disgust, Sven had the same idea!! As much as I hate Elves, I can't let a Nord be rewarded for such dishonorable behavior! So I brought both letters to Camilla and exposed them both! She promptly thanked me and immediately made it clear to both Sven and Faendal that they had ruined their chances at being with her. Serves them right! We even joked that maybe I should court her instead, and had a great laugh at the look on their faces!
• The rest of the day saw me talking to Hod and helping him with his lumber work. He was really curious about the Dragon attack at Helgen, so I told him about it's sheer size. That seemed to shut him up real quick. I amassed such a stack of wood, and was paid quite the equal stack of gold! I was intensely curious about where all that money came from, but then decided that it might be better if I don't know.
• At the end of the day, I entered the Sleeping Giant Inn. As I entered, the Inn Keep - a woman named Delphine - was badgering her poor husband - Orgnar. As I listened to them, I heard chanting. The same chanting from Bleak Falls Sanctum. Sneaking into the couple's room while their backs were turned, I found and took an ancient-looking key and two paired notes. Thankfully, neither of them noticed me leaving the room. Delphine rented another room to me for the night, and I got the first good sleep I've had in months! Such a simple bed, yet it felt like the most luxurious thing!

It is now the morning, and I shall soon depart for Whiterun. Gerdur has implored me to seek out Jarl Balgruuf, and ask for his aid in defending Riverwood from a possible Dragon attack. I just hope he'll listen to me. Perhaps, as long as I don't mention I plan on joining the Stormcloaks, I'll be fine.

Oh, where do I even begin? This was not how I imagined my first moments in my homeland.

So I was passing through Darkwater Crossing, this little speck of a mining camp in a region called Eastmarch, on my way to the major city-fort of Windhelm. The last information I had about my father, Brevar Renven, was that he was last seen there. Unfortunately for me, there was a skirmish going on between Imperial Legion soldiers and some group I didn't recognize. I was trying to give the fight a wide berth. I wasn't being paid to get in the middle, and I had to reach Windhelm quickly before the trail ran cold. Then I was knocked cold. Some Legion bastard got a lucky hit from behind, probably thinking I was an enemy trying to flank them.
    When I came to, I was stripped of everything but my undergarments, tied up, and riding in a cart with these three men. The first one who spoke to me was a guy named Ralof, one of the men fighting the Legion. Guy next to him was a wimpy horse thief. And I apparently had the honor of sitting next to Ralof's leader; one Ulfric Stormcloak. I'd heard the name in passing, but never lingered on rumors. Guess I should have, seeing as I'd be dying next to him.
    The cart was taking us towards a town called Helgen, and the people just stopped and stared. Watched us like we were the latest entertainment. Some Piss-skin Elves were also there, but I didn't get a chance to make my displeasure known. They left quickly. We were parked at the executioner's block, and they were reading lists of their prisoners. Horse Thief ran off and got arrows in the back for his trouble; the dumbass. The Legion guy reading the list of the cart I was in knew I wasn't on the list, and this bitch of a captain ordered I be killed anyway. AND THE CUCK AGREED!! Mother always told me that Skyrim had strong men! The hell was this guy doing, letting someone commit injustice?!
    Lucky for me, of all things, as I was on the chopping block, a damned DRAGON showed up and literally roared a shower of flaming rocks from the sky! In the chaos, Ralof and I were able to escape Helgen, and I even got to crush that captain bitch's skull for good measure. I think that Ulfric guy was also able to get away, but I wasn't about to go back and check. I barely got out alive as is! Thankfully, Ralof's a pretty nice guy. He's letting me crash with him at his sister's place in a little village called Riverwood just north of Helgen. On the way, he told me about who he fought with: a rebellion called the Stormcloaks. Apparently, after the war my mother ran from, the Empire signed a deal with the Thalmor that pissed off every true-blooded Nord in Skyrim. Something about trying to erase our culture, beginning with the worship of Talos.
    I didn't understand most of what he said. So much of it was highly political. But what I did understand was this: The Empire is a sinking ship, and the Stormcloaks don't want Skyrim to go down with it. While that's a great cause, I have to focus on finding my father. I asked Ralof if he knew him, since the Stormcloaks are based in Windhelm. He didn't know the name exactly, but knew of an "Old Brev" that does things in the city that are sympathetic to the Stormcloak cause. Sounded like as good a lead as any.

For now, I shall rest for the night in the home of Ralof's sister Gerdur. She's a kind woman, and loyal to her family; even her brother. I wish I knew what that was like...

In the year 171 of the Fourth Era, my then-pregnant mother, Amaara Resvan, fled our homeland of Skyrim at the onset of The Great War between the Aldmeri Dominion and the Imperial forces in Hammerfell and Cyrodil; leaving our family homestead in The Rift, and finding passage aboard a smuggler's cart to the southern-most reaches of Black Marsh to escape the war. My father, a soldier of the Empire, was called to the Skyrim-Cyrodil boarder to aid in the fight.
      I was born in Black Marsh a year later, and grew up there. At my ninth winter, our home was raided and my mother was kidnapped by a band of Orcs. I spent the next ten years training in combat, and in 4E 190 went to save my mother. But when I was ready, it was too late. She had perished in Orc captivity, disgraced as a sex slave and left to be eaten by scavengers. In my despair and rage, I slaughtered the camp down to the last filthy green-skin child; ironically earning respect from other Orc tribes in the area, and earning the name "Skull-Smasher" from them.
      In the year 4E 195, I received a visitor from my mother's past, and learned that my father may still be alive in my ancestral homeland of Skyrim. I set off on my own to discover if this was true, doing mercenary work as I made my way north. On my travels, I witnessed the impact of the Thalmor's victory many years ago. The arrogant knife-ears play with the Empire like a cruel slave owner playing with their latest victim. It makes my blood boil thinking about how the Empire just lets this happen in their own territory.
      It is now the 16th of Last Seed in the year 201 of the Fourth Era. Tomorrow, I make for Darkwater Crossing, where I should be able to slip into Skyrim without too much attention. I pray to Talos and Kynareth that I'm able to find my father. I just hope he's not also dead.