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I’m supposed to visit the Greybeards at the top of some freezing mountain, miles away. I’m not going.
It’s become a source of tension between myself and Lester, who is now convinced that the reason he so readily agreed to follow me, is because he recognised this dragonborn thing in me. Skeever-shit! He’s told me before he has a thing for redheads. He’s adamant that I should follow along ‘for the sake of Ysmir’s honour’ whatever that means. We’ve been arguing about it for some time now.
I don’t know what’s happened since I came to this cold, frozen land. I’m a hero? I’ve settled down? It’s just wrong, this constant cold has made me stupid. It definitely seems to have frozen all sense from Nord brains – honour and mead! that’s all they care about, stupid cold place. This isn’t me, I’m not a hero. What am I doing?