Journal of Mirtil Angoth
Translated from Falmer Text
by
Calcelmo of Markarth
4th of Evening Star
I used to dream of fighting in battles like my Father. He had begun teaching me to fight the moment I was able to pick up a blade. Mother had argued that I was too young, but he paid her no mind. I can still remember the elation I felt the first time I bested Father in a match and the look of pride on his face. If it were up to him I know he would have allowed me to join him in battle. With me at his side he may have fared better. Now with Father and so many others slain, the Old Ones claim we are left with too few warriors to continue the fight. I was not the only Young One to speak out in protest, but our small voices went unheard. It has been decided that we must flee to seek help and protection.
8th of Evening Star
News has reached us that the great Snow Prince has fallen in battle. The urgency to go into hiding has left many of us scattered and those of us still together unsure of which direction to turn. In the long hours of night we keep huddled together always fearing the worst until the first light of the blessed sun. May Auri-El guide our footsteps.
13th of Evening Star
In the night I overheard the Old Ones whispering secrets of the underground and the Dwemer who dwell there. I thought back on stories Father once told me of these dwarves, heroic tales of honor and glory. The Old Ones must know of these stories for it has been decided that we will change course upon first light. I feel hopeful that the Dwemer will help us to avenge our fallen and reclaim our land.