I am now in Windhelm, the heart of the rebellion. The rumors are true; Ulfric Stormcloak also escaped the attack on Helgen, and appears to be even more resolute in his fight. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
With some of last night's profits, I hired a carriage to take me to Windhelm. It's easier than walking, and much less dangerous. The weather was foul as well, with pouring, ice-cold rain, so I preferred sitting in the back of the carriage to trekking through the mud. Unfortunately, by the time we reached the old city in the late afternoon, the rain had turned to snow and ice - not an improvement at all.
I'm not sure what I expected to find in Windhelm, but it was strangely disappointing. The city is old and crumbling, with beggars huddling around fires to keep warm. I heard talk of murders as I walked through the main district on my way to the Palace of Kings. The palace itself was nicer than what could be found outside, but it was still large and bare, for lack of a better description. Windhelm deserves better, perhaps when the rebellion is won it can be restored to its proper glory.
When I entered the palace, Ulfric was speaking to one of his soldiers, apparently a commander, named Galmar Stone-Fist. They were discussing what to do with Jarl Balgruuf and the city of Whiterun. I hope he'll declare support for them, I would hate for them to have to take the city by force - and it sounds like that's what they intend to do.
After they were done, I spoke to Ulfric about the possibility of joining the Stormcloaks. Unfortunately, Ralof had not returned yet - I hope he didn't meet any misfortune on the way here - so there was nobody who could vouch for me. Ulfric dismissed me, telling me to speak to Galmar about joining. When I did so, he set me a task to prove myself. I must go to an icy island in the far north, Serpentstone Island, and kill an ice wraith. The idea of facing any sort of wraith sends a chill through me, but ice can be fought - with fire. He gave me four potions to help in the fight, one of which is a draught to help me resist the cold, and the other three - indentical - which I can't identify. However, they fill me with warmth as I hold them, so I believe they may be useful against this wraith that I must kill.
I found lodging at an inn called Candlehearth Hall. While I was eating dinner in the common room, I overheard a strange conversation. Apparently, in some parts of the north, Tiber Septim is still worshipped in secret as the god Talos, a ninth divine. Curious. In the south, we only worship the eight, in accordance with the White-Gold Concordat. I wonder what it is about this Talos that so inspires people to the point that they would go against the Concordat?
I leave at first light tomorrow, heading northwards across the ice towards Serpentstone Island.
Notes: Wow, I took a huge lack of pictures that day(and all the ones I did take had freaky-Skyrim-male-model-hand-syndrome). I guess it's because pretty much nothing happened. He spent most of the day in a cart, then he went to see the Jarl, and by then it was late enough that he pretty much just had to hit the sack in order to be up at dawn. The action starts on day 4, though, I promise. Maybe he'll actually *gasp* level.
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