I am Adarise Salvel, Hortator and Nerevarine, Indoril Nerevar reborn. I had thought my troubles were over when I freed Vvardenfell from the clutches of Dagoth Ur, but I find trouble follows me like a shadow. Against my better judgment, I have decided to start a new journal, if only to keep up with what is going on for my own sake. These events reek of ill, and I shall do my best to explain why...
In the weeks after my victory at Red Mountain I went out into the Ashlands to check in with the tribes and see if their fortunes had brightened. In all camps I found hearty welcomes. The Urshilaku accepted my second journal and Nibani promised to keep it safe and pass it down the generations, and said their hunts had vastly improved since the clearing of the ash. Ever since that day I had noticed that my ability to see in the depths of an unlit hall or the darkness of night had improved by significant degree, so I inquired with Nibani about it. She leaned close, peering into my eye and said she could see nothing strange, but said sometimes contact with beings not of this world was often linked with the appearance of strange signs or abilities.
I went east to find the Ahemmusa had come out of their hiding place when the blight storms disappeared and had managed to establish a proper treaty with the Zainab to the south to give them more reasonable borders. Speaking of the Zainab, upon my visit to them I found Falura bedridden in her husband's yurt, and at first thought something wrong until she explained it was just the 'morning sickness'. I felt like a fool admitting I didn't know what that was, and she beamed and told me that it meant she was already pregnant. In three seasons she will have their first child, and I was pleased by how happy she seemed. Further to the south, the Erabenimsun seem to be slowly adjusting to their new Ashkhan and he seems to have gained a lot of confidence in his ability to lead.
It was upon my return to civilization that I learned perhaps not everyone is thankful for my defeat of Dagoth Ur. I lay awake one night in Suran, wondering where I wanted to wander next, when the door to my room came open. I shut my eyes, feigning sleep, and listened. Footsteps, light, clad in leather. The door closing barely made a sound. Then came the scraping of steel against a scabbard, and I had to act. I kicked my would-be assailant in the stomach and rolled off the other side of the bed, recovering my sword. Now I was quite thankful for the gift Azura bestowed on my sight, as I could see the assassin's movements better than he could see mine, making up for his greater speed.
When I was freeing my blade from his dead flesh I noticed that our scuffle had woken most of the tavern, and some guards came to recover the corpse. I recognized the armor. I had been attacked by these before... these Dark Brotherhood, the illegal assassins based in the Empire. This one had a curious carved dart in his possession, tipped with poison. I sighed. My trip to the Corprusarium to speak with the last Dwemer about the artifacts would have to be put on hold.
I waited till I got to Vivec to ask about it, and in the Foreign Quarter I was directed to the city of Ebonhart just barely to the southwest. Apparently since the end of the blight, a unit of the Imperial Legion had shipped in and was looking into Dark Brotherhood attacks in Morrowind. They seemed surprised that I was a target, and I told them my intention: to get to the bottom of it. My worst fear is that if someone is seeking my life there may be lingering Sixth House fanatics still on the loose. And even if they don't have the ability to still spread Corprus, which I sincerely hope they don't, they must be eliminated. Apparently, the majority of the problems seem to originate from one place... all the way on the mainland.
Mournhold. The temple-city of light and magic, home to the Goddess Almalexia. More specifically, Old Mournhold, the ruins upon which the new city is built. So I paid for passage, first by boat then by carriage, which I now sit in, writing in a beautifully decorated blank book I purchased at port, following the instinct of the heaviness in my mind. If what I now set out on is a fool's errand, then I will probably discard it, yet the spirit within tells me it is not...