Entry 1: Last Seed 26, 3E433

My name is Jovani Hammerlund and I am a Paladin in service of Arkay. As I sit in my prison cell, I am writing this journal in hopes that my efforts won’t be forgotten, that they won’t be in vain. If it is Arkay’s will that I die in here, then so be it, but by the grace of the gods, I pray for salvation and forgiveness. Alas, my prayers have gone unanswered for far too many nights now. Too many to remember.

My tribulations continue as the nights grow longer with each passing day, especially with that dreadful Dunmer in the cell across from mine. The Dunmer’s constant callings stir a rising anger within me. It is an anger that I have not seen in sometime, nor do I wish to see it again, for it is an anger that haunts me to this day. But I may have to call upon that anger if I am to succeed in my mission, Arkay willing.

Now I must briefly explain how I came to be imprisoned within these dungeon walls of the Imperial City. It is not everyday that you will see a holy man serving time in prison this much is true. But I was not always a holy man. Once I had blood on my hands…

I was born in the nearby land of Hammerfell, the homeland of the Redguards. Although I was born a natural fighter, I was also blessed with being born under the stars of the Ritual. My parents did all that they could to hide my unique nature, but it would not be enough. You must understand that Redguards are natural born fighters and those who are born under the strange stars with magic tendencies are frowned upon. To avoid the public humiliation, my parents took me to see my great grandfather Jaleel, an old yet powerful mage, who lived in the northern lands of Cyrodiil.

I was but a small boy when I first met Jaleel. He took a liking to me immediately. He assured my parents that I was unique and that I was destined for great things, hence my unusual birthsign. Reluctantly, my parents left me in the care of Jaleel with whom I lived until I became a young man. Most of this time was spent at our home in Bruma, but occasionally I was allowed to accompany my great grandfather to the Frostcrag Spire, his secret lair in the mountains nearby.

It was during one of these visits that a courier arrived carrying distressful news from home. My father reported that my older sister, Sierra, had been infected with Porphyric Hemophilia, otherwise known as the vampire disease. Jaleel worked tirelessly for hours while he brewed up a potion that would cure the cursed disease before it could take its hold on Sierra. Once he was done, I used the magic portal to travel to the Mages Guild in the great city of Kvatch. From there, I traveled for over two days by horse northwest across the plains of the Gold Coast.

Having evaded wild lions, bears, and even a Minotaur, I chartered a ferry to cross the Brena River. After another hour had passed, I had retuned to my homeland, Hammerfell. Nightfall had fallen across the land by the time I returned home to Rihad. Once I entered my parents’ home, a creature immediately set upon me. Pulling my dagger from its sheath, I tried to stab the creature, but it knocked my dagger away and easily pinned me to the floor.

As I looked up into the strange red eyes of a vampire who now inhabited my sister’s body, I called upon the Blessed Word to turn the vampire away from me. The vampire sprang back and hissed its fangs at me. Then it spoke to me in a familiar voice.

“Forgive me Jovani,” Sierra had said. “But the thirst was too great.”

And with those words, my undead sister fled before I could do anything. Immediately I searched the home for the rest of my family. And found them I did. As I crept down into the dark cellar, I heard some strange noises. Lighting a nearby torch, the horror of what I saw was fully illuminated. Apparently, my sister had turned my parents and they were now feeding on the blood of my younger brother. I was overcome with a deep sorrow, followed by a rising anger. I knew what had to be done. And I did it.

I called upon my inner adrenaline rush and pulled my dagger free. With a brute force that I have never displayed, I buried the dagger into my father’s heart and then my mothers. When they lay dead, free from their acursed disease if only in spirit, I cradled my dying brother in my arms and swore vengeance upon the dark evil that has brought this doom to our family. After my brother took his last breath, I took the torch and began setting house on fire. I went room by room burning everything. Outside, I watched as the fire consumed my birth home.

As the horse burned, I dropped down to my knees. Then and there, I swore my allegiance to Arkay to root out all manners of evil by becoming a Paladin. And so, I set out upon my quest, immediately returning to Cyrodiil. I began searching for my vampire sister, combing through various caves and stopping at various camps listening to various rumors. My investigation led me to a skooma den located in Bravil, where I learned that Sierra had recently visited. Shortly after my arrival, the Imperial Legion raided the den.

Although I was cleared of drug charges, I was however arrested on suspicion of murder of my entire family back in Hammerfell. Without any evidence to prove my story, I was imprisoned. And so, here I still am after serving more than two years in this prison cell. As far as I know, my vampiric sister is still out there hiding in the darkness, feeding on the blood of the innocent and spreading the vile disease. Evil still lurks in the shadows and someone must stop it. Arkay willing, I will be that man.