DAY 5:The Rift. Long have I dreaded it. I never knew there was so much desolation in all of Tamriel. And do Nords ever bathe? I can never seem to keep upwind of them. Oh, to be back in my library in Mournhold, open tomes strewn about me, a warm mug of mulled wine in one hand, my research assistant's breast in the other! DAY 6:If Netapatuu spouts one more uplifting, cheerful example of what passes for wisdom among the lizards, I am going to shove his tail so far up his behind he'll have a second tongue. The idiot actually seems to enjoy plodding through this wasteland.