Revenge is a special kind of ecstasy. It gets the adrenaline pumping, but... more often than not it just digs you into a hole deeper than you were in already. My advice? Don't try it. That's one of the many mistakes I made in my life. I needed some way to get this off my chest, so I published this book.
His name was Galag gro-Zhalush. My blood boils just thinking of him. He dishonored me by spitting upon my name. He publicly renounced me in front of my entire tribe, I think he called me a "legless mudcrab on fire" or something stupid like that. He tried to kill me with some pansy-ass spell, and, while I was being revived by tribe's shaman, Galag went and stole everything I owned but the clothes on my back and the sword in my sheathe. I knew I had to regain my honor and the only way I knew how to was to kill the son-of-a-bitch. So I said my goodbyes and got the blessing of my chief to track him down. It was hard to leave my sister, and my tribe. But I knew I had to.
I tracked Galag all the way to Elsweyr. Orcrest, to be specific. By the time I found him, he'd managed to have set up his own mercenary business, and was doing a good job at it, I'll give him that. His services were so expensive only the richest people in town could afford it. He named the business something like "Honor and Justice." It was as if the bastard was mocking me. I looked in a window of his building and saw him sitting in an office - I still find it hard to believe he was smart enough to file his own paperwork - with his back to the window. Just the sight of him filled me with anger and I ended up going into a rage just looking at him.
I smashed the window and vaulted in, cutting both me and him with shards of glass. By the time he stood up and turned to face me I was already bringing a fist to his jaw and he went sprawling across the floor. Galag started scrambling away from me towards the door, but I stopped that by stomping on his hand and unsheathing my sword. He tried to get up, but I cut open his leg, causing him to scream in pain. I kicked him over onto his back and stomped on his face once or twice. After all that, his leg was bleeding profusely, he had a broken nose, and one of his tusks was missing.
I put my sword to Galag's neck and looked down at his beaten, bloody, broken form and asked him why he did what he did to me. His voice was shaky but he told me he did it because he was told my tribe was evil and that he was doing a good thing. He apologized over and over again, saying he realized his mistake after he came to Elsweyr and regretted it ever since. I stopped and thought about he said. I realized then that he'd already been paying for his crime, and I came out of my rage. I was about to let him go, but the door was kicked down by a few guards - someone had heard Galag screaming and got the guards to deal with it - and they yelled at me to put my sword down. I complied, knowing I made a mistake by trying to right a wrong but ending up making it even worse.
They took me to jail and I served my time of 10 years, and was I let out not too long ago. I felt like I'd punched a hole in myself for leaving my tribe and almost killing Galag after he was already suffering for what he'd done. Then I met a Khajiit, Sofeliz. She filled that empty space, and now I feel whole again. Moral of the story: accept the hits you take in life and keep moving forwards. Don't dwell on what he did, or what she did, it doesn't matter. Accept it and move on, dwelling on the present only keeps you down. If you get up and move forward, you'll find what you're looking for.