5th of Second Seed 4E201
At last, the time is near at hand for me to leave. There is nothing left for me here, no family, no real friends, and almost no work. I've worked for nearly a year now to scrape together enough septims to obtain some basic gear and supplies. Just a few more days of work, and I should have enough. I suppose I should be thankful to live where I do, but I still find myself restless. Every day, refugees wander through Blacklight, heading away from the inner coast of the mainland. I suppose all of the ash from the Red Mountain drives them away, who knows. Years ago, when it erupted so violently that nearly all of Vvardenfell was destroyed, the High King of Skyrim offered the Dunmer refuge. I suppose that's where everyone is going, I doubt anyone wants to go to Cyrodiil, with the destruction from the Great War and all. I guess I'll head there too, perhaps start a new life.