MORROWIND
MANY FALL, BUT ONE REMAINS

“Each Event is preceded by the Prophecy.
But without the Hero, there is no Event.”

IN THE WANING YEARS OF THE THIRD ERA OF TAMRIEL, A PRISONER BORN ON A CERTAIN DAY, TO UNCERTAIN PARENTS
WAS SENT UNDER GUARD, WITHOUT EXPLANATION, TO MORROWIND, IGNORANT OF THE ROLE HE WAS TO PLAY IN THAT
NATION’S HISTORY...

From the Imperial City’s prison
With no reason, first by carriage then by boat,
Taken far to the East, to Morrowind.
Fear not, for Azura watches over
The one, whom by prophecy, anointed.

“Wake up”. Awoken from a fretful sleep.
“We’re here”. Aboard a vessel moored at dock.
“Why are you shaking? Are you okay? Wake!”
A dunmer stirs our hero from slumber.
“Well, not even last night’s storm could wake you”

In Morrowind, the port of Seyda Neen,
Our hero is, perhaps to be released.
Perhaps to start for himself a new life
In a new land: chance would be a fine thing.
“Quiet! Here comes the guard” warns the Dunmer

Heavy leather boots on a wooden floor
A guard approaches and speaks with disdain:
“This is where you get off. Come with me now”.
He leads our hero to the upper deck
And gives a warning: “Let’s keep this civil”.

The rays of sunshine, the salty sea air
And light breeze invigorate our hero.
More heavy leather boots on wooden floor,
Another guard, friendlier than the last
Guides our free hero down towards the dock.

Yet a third guard, formally uniformed
Awaits to greet and clear up confusion
To our hero’s origins and gender.
With the bureaucracy satiated,
To the office to “finish your release”.

Release! Would by any other name sound as sweet?
On hearing the words our hero flounders
Inside. Lost, a stranger in a strange land
As though in a dream, or waking from a
Nightmare for too long allowed to ensnare the mind.

“Ah! There you are!” a high-pitched voice rings out
Inside the Census office where our hero,
All too willingly escorted, does stand,
With the final stage of freedom looming
But to stamp the papers is all that’s left.

To a near bookshelf our hero wonders
Admiring a splendid limeware platter.
Echoing a past life the platter is
Pocketed, much to the chagrin of one
Socucius Ergalla; our hero censured.

To the courtyard our hero progresses,
On the way acquiring a dagger
Of iron and a scrawled note to Hrisskar.
Outside in a barrel a magick ring
Of healing is found, a family heirloom.

Sellus Gravius, the next encounter,
Stands resplendent in fine, golden Templar
Armour. Papers he requires and papers
He gets. In return he gives duties: to
Report to Caius Cosades in Balmora.

Our hero leaves the Census office and
Stands outside, breathing deep the fresh free air.
The world once again at his fingertips,
To follow or to not follow duties
And deliver the package to Caius.

During reflection of this dilemma
A bosmer draws near with a plea for a
Ring, stolen from him by Imperial Guards.
With no love lost between Imperials
And our hero, the ring is gladly giv’n.

Elated the wood elf introduces
Himself. Fargoth by name, trade: commoner.
To Arrille’s Tradehouse he guides our hero
For his reward is to put in a good word
For our hero with Arrille, the owner.

On his way to the trade house our hero bumps
Into Vodunius Nuccius, an
Imperial with some advice to give.
To see Darame Hleran, stilt strider
Pilot, and tell her Nuccius sent you.

With that in mind our hero enters the
Tradehouse and trades the limeware platter to
Arrille for some equipment and supplies.
Upstairs he encounters Hrisskar Flat-Foot
Who offers a job our hero accepts.

The task entails the collection of funds
From Fargoth, no less, who has been holding
Out on the Imperials. Our hero
Must wait ‘til dusk falls and follow Fargoth
To his hiding place, and retrieve the gold.

But ‘til the time is right to stalk Fargoth
Another subject pricks our hero’s ears.
A missing taxman, who wasn’t well liked,
Processus Vitellius. Surely to
Find him would yield a bounty or reward.

Our hero explores the swamp which surrounds
The town and finds, a short distance away,
A corpse, the taxman, hidden amongst rocks.
On his body remain the taxes and
The tax record; the motive was not theft.

To the Census office and Ergalla
Our hero hurries to tell of his find.
Saddened by the death Ergalla places
A bounty on the perpetrator, an
An amount of five hundred golden septims.

Resolved to bring the killer to justice
And earn the very generous reward
Our hero turns detective and starts to
Question the town. Soon he learns of Thavere
Vedrano, closest to Vitellius.

Through tears she tells of a quarrel between
Vitellius and Foryn Gilnith, a
Commoner who lives near Arrille’s
Tradehouse. Leaving Thavere in her lighthouse,
Our hero searches out Foryn Gilnith.

A small run-down shack is Gilnith’s abode
Wherein he freely confesses to the
Murder. In his defence he makes claim that
Vitellius was corrupt, guilty of
Embezzling the taxes paid to him.

Our hero thinks and concludes that even
If the story were true, death is not the
Punishment. Our hero intends to call
The guards, but Gilnith violently tries to stop
Him. With no other choice, Gilnith is slain.

On Gilnith’s corpse is found a ring inscribed
With a message of love from Thavere to
Vitellius, to whom the ring belongs.
Our hero returns the ring to Thavere
And was rewarded with potions to heal.

Finally to Ergalla our hero
Returns, with news of Gilnith and his end.
The bounty of five hundred septims is
His, enough for passage to Balmora.
But now the time is right to watch Fargoth.