Regine Journal Entry 4




I’m on my way to Riverwood, a small village south of Whiterun. I understand there are no guards project the small hamlet. a thought blazes through my mind. no guards, no protection. but from what? From me? Is it possible that i am now considering slaughter of everyone living. I shake the thought away, focusing instead on the trip. 


Wolves attack me shortly after I pass an imperial patrol with what I assume is a Stormcloak rebel. I consider for a moment to decimate the entire contingent. But I don’t. Perhaps there is some humanity still left in this undead heart. This thought leads to another question: do I still have a soul? Moreover, does it matter if I do? 


Riverwood is close, I smell the residents. I enter the east side of town and find the local drunk hovering around the inn. I approach him and stop. Something is wrong with him, within him. Inside his blood. I offer him a drink. He takes it without hesitation.


I am weary from the trip and the excess sunlight. The sun seems to wear on me now. I believe I will miss it’s welcoming and rejuvenating rays. Now only blood reinvigorates me. 


Inside the inn I sense a blood with unique blood. It calls to me, but she is awake and wandering the inn, engaging in an argument with the man behind the counter. He has something in his blood, too. But it isn’t alluring or enticing. 


My sleep is restless, devoid of dreams and wants and desires. I arise and leave the inn. Outside the sun stings my eyes, and I instinctively search for shade. 


The blacksmith is an intriguing person. He’s passionate about his daughter and often bickers with his wife. He doesn’t tell me this but I know anyway. 


I leave town, and head west. Not far, I notice a mine. Bandits inhabit this mine. And I am hungry. 









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