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Tarja's Diary

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Diary

Tarja Serendottir


If you're reading this, I'm either dead and you've found my decrepit body, you're a pickpocketing thief, or you're snooping in my belongings while I'm sleeping or not around. In any case, this is my Diary. In the off chance you do happen to find this laying around somewhere without me, please close these pages and return it to me at your earliest convenience in the city of Windhelm, where I live- my name is on the cover. Thank you very much.


Morndas, 2nd day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 1

Technically, I would still count it being Sundas as it is two o' clock in the morning and I have not yet slept. But because it is after midnight, I might as well officially document the date so as to remember it later down the road- when I'm old and done with my life. To look back onto my past and smile with pleasure at all of my great memories. A happy ending. Something we all aspire to achieve. Doable, but in my line of work it can most certainly only be a dream. And there will be times, when, executing a writ or in defense of my own life do I find myself taking the life of another, to send them to the afterlife prematurely. It always makes me think. Unless you're insane I doubt you're ready to die young. And I can see the fear in my adversary's eyes more often than not. I know I fear death. Does that make me a coward to kill others but fear it? It's my job after all, to assassinate. Mostly legal. At least in Morrowind. But it is my fault, after all. I chose this path. Or perhaps not. Is fate real? Do the divines know the road we will take throughout our lives? Or do we truly have the freedom of choice? One of Nirn's greatest mysteries I suppose. I had always wondered that growing up. I'm not even a full killer- not yet. I'd like to be. I'm good at it. But I'm better at Restoration. My skill set lies in healing. The Tong was more than happy to accept me as a healer when I came along; I suppose it's because of our fall from grace. No longer are we respected or seen as what we are. Instead, we're pushed underground. For good reason. I don't think anyone would want a group of assassins to legally inhabit the realms. But then again, Dunmeri politics are weird like that. I don't know. It's not my place to really say anything. I'm just a Nord. A bumbling Nord in an organization for Dunmer. It's a wonder how I was accepted. But like I said, I guess they needed a healer. And it was only recently have I encountered other members of the Tong. For the longest time I was under the impression we were down to single digits in members. I guess this just means we're split. But I'm not surprised...... It's thoughts like this that keep me awake at night. I should be trying to sleep again if I want to wake up early enough. I need to maximize my travel time, and I'd like to reach Riften before sundown today. Maybe spend a day or two there if I have the time... Good night, Tarja. Gosh, I feel stupid writing to myself. I'll have to get used to this.
Posted Apr 2, 18 · OP
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Morndas, 2nd day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 2


Shor's bones. I've over slept.... There's no way I'll be able to reach Riften before sundown... Which means I'll have to pick up my pace and camp another night out here in the wild. Son of a horker. Ah, there's no point in getting angry. My father always told me to keep a calm and cool head. It's my fault anyway, so being angry at myself won't cause solve anything. Being angry will just shorten your lifespan. I think that's true, to an extent, but it's nature. And it's hard to control natural instincts. Like we're hardwired into feeling certain emotions. I do wonder if he's mad at me for not returning home. Does he even know I've left Windhelm? Maybe not. I doubt it. I haven't seen or written to my parents since they sent me off. I suppose I am still resentful that they did, and that I never wanted to walk the path they walked. But at the same time I don't think I ever thought about joining a Dunmeri guild and going off to do half the things I'm doing today. One thing I do know, my parents would not like me working with the Tong. And sure, I could lie and tell them I'm fine. Found a nice boy to part with and live a pleasant quiet life serving the Eight. But I can't lie; Not to my parents anyway. That wouldn't be right. So that's why I don't write to them. That's the correct thing to do, yeah..? Either way, I am fine by definition, I suppose. A steady income of coin, companionship, opportunity to travel. That's almost everything I wanted growing up so it can't be all that bad. Perhaps going to Morrowind was the right thing to do. I know my friends advised against it. But by doing so I've met so many other people, and have made so many different connections. It literally got me to where I am now. If I had stayed in Skyrim I'd probably still be getting drunk off of the mead with my old friends in that blasted drinking hole. But that just goes to show that in life, you must follow your heart. Do not listen to what other people have to say or think for that will only drag you down- even if every one you meet at first calls you a S'wit or an N'wah. Hahahahahahah.... Reminder, if I ever have children, teach them that lesson Tarja. My own parents meant well but I do not want to preach a life of solitude and service. You're your own god. Forget what the Divines say. Do as you wish, and that way, you'll be happier. In any case, hopefully I'll run into Dyne again while passing through Stonefalls. He's probably the reason why I got here and into the Tong in the first place, and unfortunately I haven't seen him since I've been inducted. The innocent part of me assumes he's always persuing a writ or something and doesn't have time for socialization but I know better than that. He could be dead. It's a deadly world out there, especially today. The War, the Daedric threat... The roads are not as safe as they once were. But I suppose every generation has their own problems. Like the Akiviri invasion of yesteryear. I'm kinda glad that didn't really effect me. Observing the chaos and destruction in Cyrodiil was enough for my eyes. I can't imagine my own home experiencing such bloodshed. It's almost as if Mehrunes Dagon himself had blessed this land. But Cyrodiil is another memory for a different day. I've been a little too serious. I'll put the quill down now and continue my journey south. If I'm late to Mournhold, my handler will have my head. And those Dunmer don't play around, I know that. It's best to continue being obedient- to earn their trust and respect... Because I'd like to have my own solo writs to chase eventually. I hear the coin is very good. Off to Riften! Don't get eaten by a wolf or anything, Tarja.
P.S I'll keep growing my hair. I kind of like it long.
Posted Apr 2, 18 · OP · Last edited Apr 2, 18
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Tirdas, 2nd 3rd day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 3

Despite what I had though and assumed, I have arrived in Riften without having to stay another night in the wild. Go me. But that did not come without risk. As it got dark I decided to continue on rather than stopping. I know, it's very dangerous to travel alone at night. I remember hearing tales as a child from my friends about evil trolls and goblins who roam the dark forests and tundras looking for little Nord children to abduct and eat. While partially true, I think it more or less referred to the bandits and brigands that tend to watch the roads at night and ambush foolish travelers; People like me. But, counting my blessings, I arrived without any problems and promptly found a room to stay at an Inn near the marketplace. And once again I find myself writing in my diary, past midnight, gazing at the stars through the window- unable to sleep. I think this diary is a form of therapy for me. It's helping put my mind at ease, allowing me to relax and fade into slumber. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm an energetic and friendly person. I'm eager to meet new people and I love to share experiences and cultures with others. But like every one else, I too have my own thoughts and demons that sort of haunt me in the back of my mind. And unfortunately they like to come out when I'm alone at night. Sometimes I think I should have never entered Cyrodiil. The coin was bloody amazing, and the connections I've made there were top notch. But the horrors of war are something no one should ever experience. I'm glad that I chose not to enlist into the Pact army. Otherwise I would have already been killed on the battlefield, or still fighting for control of that blasted land. Cyrodiil is beautiful, there's no doubt about that. Even through all the mayhem and destruction caused by the three banners. I often dream of my travels through. The Duke and his men. Now those were some brave souls. They were a zealous lot too. They'd run blind into battle and die for their commander, the Duke. Yet, the Duke himself was mysterious... Was he a Nord? Breton? Imperial? No one could tell, and no one dared asking. I don't think he's a Nord because we don't have 'Duke' as a political title here. I think Breton. Either way, what a tactical mastermind that man was. He did a number on those Daggerfall Covenant and Aldemeri patrols we've come across. But, I didn't see any sympathy or remorse for his men. He probably hid it very well. They took quite a number of casualties through the days I was attached to them, and it spent a lot of my willpower to help. But I did what I could. See, I initially entered Cyrodiil with a group of traveling healers to offer assistance to the wounded and sick soldiers regardless of their affiliation. We never had intended on leaving the primary headquarters at the Morrowind gates. But we were quickly rounded up by the Pact army, and split to attach ourselves to different military units. I happened to have been attached to the Duke's regiment, in which they prided themselves as 'Raiders'. From there, I was sent off to the front lines with the Duke and his men, where I served as a non-combatant healer. But the other armies didn't care. They just saw me as another adversary. I did my best to avoid conflict but some times it was inevitable. I do not regret my actions, however. I'd like to say because of my healing, many soldiers who were supposed to die actually made it out alive. Maimed, of course, but alive... After some time on the front lines, I continued to follow the Duke and the remainder of his healthy men back to the Morrowind gates where they were to receive a little bit of R&R and resupply. I had to split from there. I couldn't stay anymore. War isn't a place for anyone to be, combatant or not. And I journied back into Morrowind. I do plan to return to Cyrodiil, and that one Man I met from Akivir last week did mention he had a trek planned for the Imperial City. But do I really want to follow him? Back to that oblivion? Like I said. Cyrodiil is beautiful. But I don't know if I can handle looking at all I've witnessed out there again. I'll have to think on it. In any case, on that note, I should be a couple of more days from Mournhold by now. I'll be making it on time, and provided I don't run into any distractions, I'll probably be early. Hopefully. I'd like to have a little more leisure time to myself before I go back to helping on Writs... Next time, I think I will head to Daggerfall. I've always wanted to actually visit Daggerfall and see the sights. High Rock is also beautiful but I never was able to spend very much time there. I also would like to see my friend Dolorous and her Knights. It's been some time and I almost feel a little bad that I haven't popped my head in sooner. Next time, for sure, I will. That's enough spewing for one night. I'm going to rest up in bed and sleep in again. After a hearty breakfast? I'll continue southeast for Mournhold. Night, Tarja.
Posted Apr 3, 18 · OP · Last edited Apr 3, 18
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Tirdas, 3rd day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 4

You're an idiot Tarja. You're an idiot, you're an idiot, you're an idiot, you're an idiot. You're just a big bumbling Nord like the rest of every one else and you'll amount to nothing other than a mead drinking horker who thinks she can smash the broadside of an iceberg with an axe blindfolded in the dead of winter without any clothes...... Calm down, please. Let's recap. So I had a nice day of leisure in Riften today. I went through the market, I watched the little lake on the docks, and I had a full three meals through the day. All was well. Until I met that blasted Bosmer. My father was right to never trust Elves. He was a nice man, but, for Kyne's sake was he a racist to elves. And I can almost see why now. No, no you don't Tarja. You're just frustrated... It's okay. Back on track. It was getting late, and I wanted a bit of fresh air before I decided to retire to my room to wake early tomorrow and leave for Stonefalls. So I decided to spend an hour on the balcony, where I was going to write a different entry here. But I'm too flustered to write about anything else. And I suppose this is a recap of my day. Anyway, during my relaxation, a Bosmer woman by the name of 'Loa' (if that's even her real name) approached and stared at me. I thought it awkward at first, but then assumed some people just have an odd way of introducing themselves. I politely asked if she was waiting for anyone, and she said no. We carried on into a little conversation, where she revealed herself to be a follower of the Daedric prince Vaermina. She also revealed a peculiar plot to me while we spoke as to why she was in town, and then further claimed to have been the head of a bandit ring in Tamriel! I wonder if I should tell the guards... She claimed to be 'His' servant and proclaimed herself as 'Vaermina's Viper' or something along those lines. I took it with a grain of salt, obviously, which is probably why I'm not going to alert anyone. But this is where my bumbling dumb ass decided to spill my beans and replied to a question hinting at my membership of the Morag Tong, which further perked her interest. She pressed on with more questions, and I avoided some of them, but THEN she further revealed herself to be a member of the fucking Dark Brotherhood! It doesn't matter if I believe her or not, we're rivals, and unfortunately spill blood on each other. I'm not one for conflict, and as far as I'm aware it is they who are the aggressors. So essentially I revealed my STATUS as a MORAG TONG to a blasted MEMBER of the DARK BROTHERHOOD!!!! ........

!!!

!!!!

......

Okay. I-... I can get over dramatic at times. Those scribbles and exclamation points weren't necessary. But they are there, for you, future Tarja, to show how frustrated I am with myself. I really can be an idiot... But now that I've had time to cool, I think it wasn't all that bad. Hear me out. Judging by her demeanor and her open claims to Daedra worship and some plot involving dreams and the people of Riften, I took most of what she said with a grain of salt. Whatever she said about the Dark Brotherhood and her affiliation is proooobably false. More than likely. If not, at least I didn't reveal anything secretive about our own organization. All she knows is my first name, and what I belong to. Which is fine! All I have to do is get out of here before she comes back, or her friends come...... Well, she was friendly enough I guess. And honestly? I think she was more scared and paranoid of me than I was of her. She did ask, after all, if I was there for her. To execute. (I wasn't, obviously.)

Damn it, Tarja.....

That's all I have for tonight. I'm leaving for Stonefalls bright and early in the morning, so I suppose I should get some rest. I do feel better about this whole affair. It's almost embarrasing. I don't think I'll ever tell anyone. Yeah, no, I won't. This is for me and me only. And I guess her. Anyway. Good night, Tarja. I should probably sleep with one eye open tonight. If I awake tomorrow with all four limbs and a soul I'll assume I'm safe. Stonefalls bound. Let this be a lesson to learn about inconspicuity. (Is that a word?)

P.S. I think I'll warn the guards about her before I leave. Just to be safe. Those Brotherhood lackies are a little too large anyway. Can't have any on my trail, even if one is friendly.
Posted Apr 4, 18 · OP · Last edited Apr 4, 18
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Turdas, 5th day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 5


Nothing to write... I wanted to put something here in my diary last night but I really didn't have very much on my mind, and my journey back to Mournhold has been lackluster at best. Well, aside from meeting that Bosmer 'Loa', that is. I guess the Brotherhood is not on my trail after all as it doesn't feel like I'm being followed, nor do I feel paranoid anymore. That's good. Let's see. The weather is nice, I guess. Oh yeah, I crossed into Stonefalls today and am currently on the road on my way to Kragenmoor. From Kragenmoor it should be two to three days until I reach Mournhold. Right on time. I wonder what kind of taskings will be put out this time. Oh by the gods I really hope I don't have to travel again so soon. I literally just finished my journey to Windhelm and for all of this travel I only spent a day there to be turned right around. It was good to see old friends and familiar sights but, wow. Such a far trip for a short amount of time. I need to invest in some sort of horse. Or perhaps teleportation through the Mages Guild? No, that's too expensive I hear. I have some coin but certainly not enough for the luxuries of advanced magics. Yet so many people I meet seem to be rich with gold, and speak of traveling from High Rock to Black Marsh like it's a weekend stroll through the Cloud District of Whiterun. Ridiculous. I would wager most of them liars. I do. But imagine? I'd love to see the rest of Tamriel. To be able to travel from one province to another on a whim would be absolutely fantastic. What else...? Stonefalls seems to be pretty nice. Usually there's ash clouds and dust accompanied by the heat reflecting off of the jagged rocks and lava underneath the ground. As a Nord, I am really not very fond of Stonefalls for that reason. Although I am different in many ways compared to my brothers and sisters, that is one common trait I think almost every Nord shares. None of us like the heat. At least among the Nords I know. When I first walked into Stonefalls I thought I was going to die of dehydration. I never had to drink so much water in my life. And even still, to this day, 2 and a half years later, I still find myself sweating like a boar in the midsummer sun of Falkreath. (Which, can be quite hot for us Nords too.) But, I have to admit, the jagged stone faced structures jutting out of the ground and the lava flows beside the odd mushroom trees mixed with the Dunmeri architexture is gorgeous. I'm in love with it all. Probably why I opted to stay in Morrowind in the very first place. Their culture and everything about them is just so odd and alien. It makes me want to return to Vvardenfell if only for a week. But I have no business in Vvardenfell. Not right now, anyway. Even while I was helping persue Writs and on official business, the natives there are very prideful and racist. They do not like 'Outlanders' as we're called on their island. The sights? Lovely. The people? Not so. But I'm friendly enough. I let it all slide off of my shoulder. Some of the other races could learn a bit from the Nords. We're all friendly, and I don't know about anyone else but if I met an 'Outlander' who was fascinated and intrigued by my peoples' culture and traditions, I'd be honored to share my knowledge of it with them and proud that others are interested in my heritage. But unfortunately most people look at us like dumb egotistical warriors who don't know better than to bash heads with axes and drink all the mead ever brewed on Nirn. I don't even like mead, and I'm tired of hearing people reference it! Every time I introduce myself, literally, everyone's first question! "Oh, do you like mead?" ..... It's almost funny. Actually, it is funny. I'm chuckling as I write this. Sigh. Okay. That's enough for one night. Have to preserve my ink and save my thoughts for another night. See ya in the morning, Tarja.
Posted Apr 6, 18 · OP
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Loredas, 14th day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 6


Oh, dear me, it seems that I haven't written in my diary in over a week! Well I suppose I just didn't have anything to write as I was on the road for Mournhold like I've said in practically every entry I've created since this diary's inception. Nah. Who am I kidding? Actually, a lot has happened since in just this short week. I just didn't have any desire or motivation to write. The traveling has had me far too tired to do much else, and I suppose that worked out well for me as I've received quite a few good nights of sleep since. But that's okay. Nothing special has happened on my way home anyway. But now that I have something interesting to record, I guess I'll continue writing. Maybe this is how I will continue? Anyway, I made it back to Mournhold right on time as expected and immediately reported to my handler who was pleased with my success in Skyrim. Our client was also happy, and had left me with a small bonus in gold for a 'job well done'. Not like I had done anything, I just followed the people who actually did the killing and stood around in case any one was hurt. Oh well. And not a day later, my handler had another writ for me to perform. My first solo writ. Away from Morrowind borders, again. Almost as if he read my mind, I found my writ taking me to the city of Daggerfall in High Rock to persue a Redoran dunmer on the run after having used the services of an illegal assassination contract against the Telvanni. Why would any of the other House dunmer want to harm the Telvanni anyway? That question is beyond me so I didn't spend too much time thinking of it. I did wonder why the Redoran thought he was protected in High Rock, though. The Tong may be illegal throughout the rest of Tamriel but that hasn't ever stopped us. Not now, and not in the future. Either way, this is what I was entrusted with. I was esthatic, a chance to travel to Daggerfall and another chance to visit Dolorous and her Knights. And I get payed for it. This time I in fact used the services of the Mages' Guild to teleport myself to High Rock as it would just take far too long for me to travel across the entire continent. I never enjoyed the luxuries of teleporation as it had always left me neaseous and queezy. But it was necessary unless I wanted to spend months on the road to potentially miss my writ. I spent a couple of days in Daggerfall enjoying the sights and sounds before actually persuing my writ. He was easy enough to find. His guard was severely down. I had poisoned him in the marketplace two mornings ago.... The Guard didn't suspect a thing, and neither did the cityfolk. I'll admit that being able to plan my own plot to kill this man was most enjoyable. It was a rush, and the adrenaline that stuck me during the initial execution despite being relatively tame and low key was unlike no other. Is that psychotic of me to enjoy this? Perhaps... But I will not think too much of it. Not now. I managed to get away and decided to visit Dolorous, who's Keep is just outside of the city. I think she was happy to see me but she was buried deep in quite a bit of business. I didn't want to bother her too much so I went to take my leave, but before I could depart she requested I speak of my knowledge on magical research the next night during one of their Order's meetings. I'm not the greatest public speaker, nor do I know very much about magic, but I was eager to please a friend who went out of her own way to welcome me. So I accepted and decided to talk of my knowledge on Restoration magics. I spoke the following night in front of her Order and although I was happy to share my knowledge, I couldn't help but feel unwelcome. Most of the room didn't even appear to be paying very much attention to me, and some of those that were looked a little less than pleased to listen. But I did appreciate the few who seemed legitimately interested, and had questions. I also had a chance to demonstrate my skill on a Khajiit who's friend shot with an arrow.......... Silly. But, whatever. Anyway. I think Dolorous is pleased with my lecture. I do feel a bit bad for not giving her a valid excuse as to why I was absent for so long, but I don't want to risk telling any one else about my involvement with the Tong. Perhaps one day, but not now. Lying will have to continue. No more mistakes! I'm headed home later today through the same magical means of the Guild because apparently I'm needed in Vvardenfell tonight. That's all I've got for now.
Posted Sat at 03:37 pm · OP
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Loredas, 15th day of Rain's Hand, 2E 583
Entry 7


Sundas. Normally seen as a day of rest for those who work and among the peasantry. But let's face it, when is the last time I had an actual Sundas where I didn't have anything going on, or when I wasn't on the road? I went on a Writ in the wee hours of the morning and honestly for the first time I think I can say that I felt bad for killing some one. I sort of lost myself there for a moment. Normally, our targets don't run. They stay put and either accept their fate or put up a fight. Otherwise, they're not even aware. I was paired with two other Dunmer for this one, Ormil and his partner Nia or Nai or... I feel bad but I can't even remember her name. Some of the Dunmeri naming conventions are so weird. Hard to remember. But I have a feeling that this won't be the last time I see them, so it's alright I guess. I am willing to bet other races think the same of Nordic names anyway. Oh well. Anyway. Yeah, so I did another Writ today in Seyda Neen with Ormil and his friend. It was fairly smooth aside from the target running. We met with a local that worked at the port's cornerclub and she helped us get inside the guardhouse to assassinate our target- some one from House Hlaalu. Our Redoran contractors believe him to have hired a band of mercenaries to slaughter some ashlanders or something like that. I never really pay attention to the specifics to tell the truth. It helps me remain neutral as an agent should when dealing with such matters. Looking back, I'm not quite sure why Ormil lied about us not being assassins when she clearly showed us her distaste for her target, but whatever. We got inside the guardhose and snuck around a bit. It was empty save for our target and an Imperial woman who wore a heavy variant of the armor the Imperial Legion wears. I don't know who she was, but the two were talking about mercenary contracts with the Red Talons. I think they operate out of the Gold Coast? Ormil decided to show himself as the fake Hlaalu trying to strike a deal, but our target was too spooked and ordered his Imperial friend to rid of us. And almost right on time, we were attacked by a guard in the rear. While Ormil and his friend were busy, I had an open window to hitch the target. I managed to slash my sword into his shoulder but I missed my killing blow, where he took the opportunity to run. I debated for a moment to either chase the target or help my comrades. But I know how important Writs can be, especially when we were already payed in advance. So I chased after the target. Truthfully, I sort of lost myself from then. I don't know what happened, and I wasn't blind with rage. But I was just so hellbent on chasing this man and killing him. The adrenaline.. again. There's something about killing that just makes me feel alive? Is that right for me to say? This is why I feel bad. I enjoy killing but I don't like how I like it. If that makes any sense. Like I wrote, I don't quite remember. But I came to when we were up atop the lighthouse in the west side of the port. Ormil was there, and my blade was already struck deep into the target's stomach. I must have destroyed his insides, because he stumbled his way for the edge and plummeted to the ground. Again, I felt a moment of guilt and pity. But it quickly faded... Ormil and I went to meet back with his partner. We presented the Writ to the guard and off we went for Vivec city. Another Writ well done. I chose to write about this one because, like I wrote, this is one of the first times I actually feel a little bad. Is it a mental illness to enjoy killing? Is there something wrong with me? It's not like I'm a barbarian like the savage Dark Brotherhood. I respect who I kill, and I don't kill to kill. But the thrill of it all when I'm actually doing it... I love it. It's the rush. The adrenaline. The risk and reward. It's a sense of danger unlike no other; Life or death. I am essentially sending people to the afterlife. Maybe that's a good thing.. Nirn is a depressing place anyway..... That was sick of me to write. No, stop. I should seek help. But I can't seek help. I will be judged, and perhaps arrested. I do not want to live the rest of my days out in a prison cell. I am no criminal. I deserve better. I get better. Tarja, you are sounding like a serial killer. Stop it. Stop talking to yourself through writing. Put the quil down.

There were wet spots at the bottom of the page, and a few scribbles.
Posted Mon at 12:53 am · OP · Last edited Mon at 0:53
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