This is The Diary of Saint Jiub. I decided to do this, because I didn't think anything like this has been done before. Any criticism is welcome, as long as it is constructive. Anything else will just be ignored. I'm open to suggestions about how to improve my writing style, and my story, if it seems a little off. Well that's about it, and without further delay, its:

The Diary Of Saint Jiub
7th Hearthfire, Turdas


I've finally escaped that boat. It was during a storm, the seas were as high as the Skyrim Mountains. Lightning could be seen flashing through the sky, and thunder soon accompanying it. The rain as heavy, and everyone was grasping onto whatever they could to stay in the same place. The clouds had darkened the sky, and most people would've thought it was night time. The clouds stretched out a great distance. The water was washing onto the deck, flooding the bottom deck, and the cell I was being kept in. The guards had no choice but to let me topside. As everyone was up top, so the guards were occupied. I knew I had an advantage at sea, as I have spent many years travelling on it. I took this opportunity to get away. I slipped back below deck, and searched through some of the lockers they had. I found myself a large bag of gold, some fur leggings, leather boots, leather gloves and a plain white vest. I got changed, then and there. I decided that in this part of my plan, stealth was not the key. This time, I needed to go for the action, and go straight for it. I climbed above deck slowly. At the top, I searched around for guards nearby. None were in my sight. I took a big run up, and leapt off the edge of the boat, into the great abyss of the ocean. I had not been more exhilarated in years. My heart was racing, my head was swimming with thoughts, but I paid not attention to them, just allowing my body to run itself. I pushed myself through the ocean, having no idea which direction to go, and how far away land was. I took my chances and kept swimming. But the truth of the matter was, I didn't belong on that boat. I was wrongfully arrested. Set-up, by the person I trusted most of all. My brother had set me up. He shall receive his dues one day, but at least he helped me learn some valuable skills.

It all started when he stole a great painting from the museum. He murdered a guard on his was out, slitting his throat. He ran home, and knew the guard would be looking for him. He noticed many people looking at his blood-stained covered clothes and dagger as he ran through town. He wore a mask, but was sleeveless. There were not many dunmer in the village, well only me and my brother. He flung open the door, slammed it behind him. I remained asleep. He slid the painting under my bed, and put the clothes in my wardrobe; before climbing out the window in a pair of fresh clothes, and sneaking off to the tavern. The guards raided the house the next morning. Finding the clothes, and the painting. I was hauled off for murder. Before I knew what was happening they boarded me onto a boat, with a strange person. I didn't much care for them, apart from the restless dreams they were having at night, keeping me up. They did have one extremely bad one, as we arrived in Morrowind. I helped them up, before a guard came and took them away. Four days ago if I remember right. Stories had spread to the ships captain of an infested cave nearby by thieves and bandits. A reward would go to anyone that got rid of them. So he and his crew took off for a couple of days. They returned, with a lot of wealth. This was this morning. Soon we set sail, but encountered the storm.

After swimming for what seemed hours, my strength had deteriorated greatly, and I could feel my mind weakening, and so I slowed my pace, and kept my eye out for anything that would keep me afloat. I was in luck again. Perhaps the Nine was on my side. It must've been divine intervention that helped me escape. But a crate came by. It was sealed, so had air trapped inside. I climbed onto, and let my mind wander; I had no strength to do anything else. Before I knew it, I was regaining consciousness, on dry land. I rolled off the crate, and kissed the soil. "Thank you!" I yelled out. I knew it was early to celebrate, but I was alive, and on land. I stripped off my clothes and laid them out to dry in the evening sun. I decided to see what was in the thing that saved my life. I lifted the crate with what energy I had left, and slammed it into the ground. The side split open. I picked it up again, and threw the broken side into a rock. The entire side split open. I dug inside of the box. Inside was a complete set of custom designed armour, with 5 bottles of rare wine, and this journal, complete with an entire set of quills and an inkwell, filled with ink. I looked at the rags I'd swam to shore in. I ripped them apart, so the fabric was spread out flat along side each other. I cast a spell I learned from some guy in a bar bet. I remember thinking about it, but it eluded me from when it was. It still does, one day I will remember though. I never thought I'd need it, a spell that joins scraps of fabric and fur together, but now I did. The fabric moulded before my eyes. I was shocked it actually worked. But by the end of it, I had a huge sheet of fabric, with fur covering the edges. I placed the wine, closed inkwell, journal, the money I'd taken from the guard's chest and some of the armour onto the fabric sheet. I closed the edges, so it made a bag, and tied it closed. Now I had a bag. I knew wearing armour without clothes underneath would be uncomfortable, and probably painful, but I couldn't walk into town naked. I placed the greaves and boots on, and tested them out. They were fit for a knight, and the armour looked like a steel of some kind, but it was almost weightless. This was defiantly custom built. I realised I still had no arms, so I had to be wary of bandits. I only had a small repertoire of spells. I'd never really cared for them before, but I was always told I was a natural spell-caster. Odd for a dunmer. Now I decided I needed to take a lot more interest in magic, and honing my skills.

I decided that travelling quickly was my best bet, as night was nearing. I soon found a road. I realised I was still in Morrowind, my native land, this was good news for me, as I have visited Morrowind many times as a child. I trekked the first way I thought might be a good path. I didn't care where I ended up, as long as there was a tavern and a clothes shop. So I kept on walking. After a lot of walking, I soon found myself at Caldera.

I walked to the clothier first. I must've looked a wreck. I stood outside, and I got the money out of my bag and counted it. I was in luck. Over 600 coins. I went inside and walked to the counter. I looked up at the altmer man, whose name I didn't bother to check. I spoke, as best I could, but I could tell I was on the verge of passing out. "I need some pants, some gloves, a shirt, some shoes and a nice robe." The altmer looked at me, having a dirty look on his face. I obviously disgusted him, but I couldn't care less, I just wanted the clother. He turned around and grabbed some shoes, some pants, a pair of extravagant looking gloves, a plain shirt, and an expensive looking robe. He gathered them on the desk, and laid them out nicely. He looked the items over, as if deciding a price. He looked at me, obviously because of my state wasn't sure if he should sell me anything, or even give me a price. He eventually let out a slow "283 Septims." He pronounced the words deliberately, and precisely. He thought I was simple minded! I knew he meant the price though. Either way, I wasn't in a good position to argue with him, so I paid. I nodded, too tired to talk or even open my mouth. I grabbed my clothes off the desk, and gathered them up over my left arm. They rested there before I slid outside and wondered around for a while, in a daze. I found a tavern. I wondered inside, a little confused, from exhaustion. The counter was near the back, so I walked there, being careful to dodge the people and furniture. I finally found myself at the front. "I need a room, and I'm not in the best condition, if you couldn't see. I'm too tired to count out the money you might need, so if I give you some armour as collateral, will you let me stay the night?" I said this as best I could, but it came out mumbled, and badly pronounced. I hoped he'd let me stay, and take the armour. The Tavern owner got the gist of what I was saying though, and replied "Sure, Here is your key, now how about that armour?" They almost grinned as they held out the key. I reached into my sack, Pulled out a pauldron, and handed it to the Tavern owner. He passed me the key, and I wondered in a daze to my room. I unlocked, just, went inside, and locked it again. I threw my bag onto the end of my bed, and dumped my clothes on a table. I sat down, placed the bag off my bed, and slid it underneath. I stripped the armour off my legs, and fell flat-out asleep.

I awoke with a start. It was two days later. I'd slept for two days. I was shocked, and didn't have much recollection of what happened. All I remembered was escaping, buying clothes, and renting the room. I got dressed with the clothes that were on my table, excluding the robe and the gloves. I laid them out over my bed. I looked into my bag, and got the quill, journal, inkwell and money out. I headed outside my room to the tavern owner. I exchanged the pauldron back, and gave him 300 coins for the room for a fortnight. "Thank you for letting me stay, I was in a complete state. I was an inch from death, and you showed me kindness. If there is anything I can do for you, let me know." I knew the speech was a bit over the top, but I felt I owed the tavern owner. He looked at me, "Don't worry about it, it's my job, and I usually let people that are completely wasted stay the night. I'm just glad you could pay me for the taverns services. Speaking of which, I owe you a complimentary breakfast, for renting a room for over a week." He gave me the complimentary breakfast, and a drink. I took the food back to my room, and ate it on the dresser. I'd made a mess, but it made me feel better. I finally had my energy back, and was ready to go on a marathon. I looked at the stationary I had along the desk, and that's when I decided to start this. As I wrote, I could feel my memories coming back.

I plan to keep this Journal up-to-date, make it like my best friend, and write in it everything that happens. This will be my legacy, this will be my legend. And now I know what I should do first, and that's make some more money. If I remember right, I think I saw an orc hiding out outside, almost staking the place. Maybe he has something I could use.

This is Jiub, signing off.