Oh, Papa, the wonders I've seen! I know we exchanged harsh words when you decided to send me to Craglorn, but you were right. The experience has done me a world of good. Of course, I've had to put up with more than my share of milk-drinkers and horkers, but that's to be expected whenever we venture far from the borders of our beloved Skyrim. But let me tell you about the experiences I've had.
First, they say the stars have fallen from the sky and walk like men in this wasteland. I don't know about that, but I saw warriors of sand and dust rise from the battlefield like ancient specters. They were tough, but nothing that honest Nord steel couldn't take down.
Then I ran into these strange monstrosities that seemed to be a mix of various creatures. It was almost as though a Scorpion and a Wamasu had a baby—and yes, it was as amazing and terrible as that sounds. The locals called it a "mantikora." I called it ugly and hit it with my axe. A lot.
And did I mention the cultists in my last letter? Yes, Craglorn has them, too. But these cultists are special. Call themselves the Scaled Court and give themselves high-and-mighty titles such as "regents" and "exarchs." What a bunch of horkers! And would you believe it? They worship some kind of sky snake! Of all the possible deities to choose from, they decided that a creature that wiggles around on its belly was the end all and be all. I hit them with my axe. A lot. And it felt good!
Now I'm enjoying a mead and preparing to enter the Dragonstar Arena. You'd be so proud of me, Papa! I've gathered a decent group of warriors and I think we have a chance to win this competition. Who knew a Nord, a Dark Elf, and two Argonians would make such a good team? I haven't been able to get all the details on what we'll be up against, but I figure it can't be much harder than the Konunleikar games. I'll write again after we win the trophy. Or whatever it is we win.
Your daughter, Belinka