Last Seed 19, 4E 201

Gerdur and I got into a fight today. It started when Alvor helped me forge my own iron broadsword. I was so excited to have a real weapon, I decided to wear it around and show it off.

When Gerdur saw it, though, she about bit my head off. She started hollering about how she wasn't going to lose me to this damned war, too. I told her I was going to join the Stormcloaks and find Ralof whether she liked it or not. She screamed until she was red in the face, then finally broke down and started crying, begging me not to go get myself killed. I couldn't take it anymore, so I ran off to the Sleeping Giant Inn to clear my head.

Orgnar must've noticed I was having a bad day, so he called me over to talk.

"She's got a point," he said after I'd explained everything to him. I scowled, but he continued. "Katje, she's gonna miss you if you go runnin' off. Even more if you get yerself killed."

"But I can't stay in this little town and chop wood forever!" I protested.

He shook his head and started wiping the bar with an old rag. "Some folks are made for stayin' settled, and some folks are made for wanderin'. Me, I'm made to keep up this inn.

"But if you're serious about gettin' out of this place, you gotta start small. Don't just run off to the Stormcloaks. Work yer way up. Spend a night or two huntin', maybe. Learn to use that little sword and bow you've got. Show Gerdur you're really ready."

I consider his advice. It's good, no doubt. After all, what if, in my zeal, I bite off more than I can chew? What if it's too much for me? Armies don't take kindly to deserters, after all.

That settles it. Tomorrow I'll go on a walk-about. I'll set out early, before Gerdur wakes up, and head out hunting. I'll spend a night or two away like Orgnar suggested, and I'll see how well I can apply the skills in my survival guide.

I go to my room early, and reread the guide as carefully as I can before I turn in.