By the time you read this, I will be gone, so there is no point in hoping you can dissuade me. I have made my decision. The other night I had a terrible dream. I had lived my whole life working as a stablehand here at Aswala Stables, and as I lay on my deathbed, I realized my mistake. Tamriel is enormous, filled with exciting people and exciting places, all of which, in the dream, I had missed.
As you know, mother, my friend Najan disappeared several months ago. I did not wish to worry you, so I did not tell you the truth. Najan joined the cult known as the Withered Hand. At the time, I thought him a madman, but he recently returned in the night and told me of his experience. Though there is much grisly work involved, and I know that grandfather, and even you may condemn me for dishonoring myself, a career of raising the dead seems to be very exciting.
Najan says he was taken to Satakalaam for training. They taught him the arts of war, the arts of necromancy, and the many other valuable skills. They have given him a wardrobe full of silken robes, and he says that they have even promised to take him to the city of Wayrest someday. Najan has invited me to join the Hand, and I have decided I cannot pass up this opportunity.
I will always love you mother. I hope you will forgive me. Perhaps once I learn necromancy, I can come back and raise father from the dead!