I am in the infirmary in Windhelm. I don't remember arriving. I must have passed out in the cave. They've bandaged me as best they could. I used what little magic I could muster to discretely heal some as well.
Ralof came to see me. Apparently they were attacked by a dragon after they left the cave. They managed to kill the beast, but they were certain I had died to hypothermia during the battle. The others, injured and close to hypothermia as well, left. Ralof stayed with me, trying to resuscitate me. He said the only reason I'm still alive is because he dragged me to the still warm body of the dead dragon, which then poured its own spirit into me, warming my body enough that colour returned to my skin. By himself, he carried me all the way back here.
I owe him my life. Hopefully I can repay him one day.
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Skyrim Journals: Lopiken [Year 3]
FantasyA cult wanted him dead, a war threatened to destroy his home and take away his daughter, a severe head injury stole his memories, he became rich off treasure, he started school, and he fell in love. Needless to say, last year was a LOT! Will he over...
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