THE LEGEND OF ZADEN: MORROWIND

Chapter 1: Awakening

It was like a nightmare... And yet it felt so real...

I awoke flat upon my back. Immediately my face and eyes were pelted with stinging sand. Somehow I had awoken the center of a fierce sandstorm. I had not idea where I was, how I got here, or why I was here. I slowly sat up to make a quick assessment of my surroundings... there were none to speak of. The air was choked so full of sand I could not see past ten feet in any direction. I immediately stood up and my first instinct was to run. It did not matter to me in what direction I went. Wherever the hell I was, I somehow knew one thing for certain... I had to get out of this place and fast.

Call it intuition, but as I ran blind, I had the sneaking suspicion that I was being followed, but due to the storm, I could not see who... or what…

I continued to run with no sense of direction for what seemed like an eternity. I quickly began to lose any hope of making out of this alive. It was as if this place was sucking from me my will to live. Suddenly, a shadow appeared before me. It was a huge shadow, blocking out what little sun bled through the storm above me. I continued forward and a solid object finally made an appearance.

It was a single column of stone, carved into the shape of an alter. It seemed to stand alone in the sand. I wondered for what seemed the longest time what a lone alter was doing in the middle of this hell. I then heard footsteps from behind. Whipping around, ready to defend myself, there stood a single man. In appearance, he looked to be like any average Imperial. He looked to be of no harm. In fact, he looked absolutely calm, strange given the surroundings.

"Who are you?" I asked him.

"A messenger," he responded.

"Of what?"

As soon as I asked, his eyes shifted from a light blue to a pitch black, and an evil smirk materialized on his face. "A messenger... of your death... and this alter shall bear your slaughter."

Before I could even register what he had said, he had already cast a summoning spell. I was immediately surrounded on all sides by ugly Dremora: tall, black skinned, human-like beings, clad in demonic black armor. Immediately, the two to my left and right grabbed me by my arms and dragged my toward the alter. I struggled and attempted to break free, but they were just too strong.

They tossed me onto the altar's hard, flat surface, holding my arms down. The other two Demora quickly pinned down my legs. No amount of struggling could get me loose of their grasp. I screamed for them to let me go, but as hard as I tried my voice made no sound. I was deafened.

I then felt the presence of another... a powerful other. A new, dark figure appeared, leaning over the alter, staring at me with piercing red eyes... laughing at me. He then held out his right hand inches above my face and summoned a silver knife.

"With this," said his dark voice, "your life shall end."

He raised the knife high over his head, and with one powerful stab, I watched as the knife plunged downward and sunk right into my chest. It was unlike any pain I've ever endured. I shut my eyes, screaming a final deafened plea for help.

This had to be the end.

Suddenly a clap of thunder boomed through the air, and in an instant, the pain vanished. I slowly opened my eyes, expecting to see the lifeless eyes of the knife's wielder. There was now nothing and no one. The sandstorms had vanished, revealing a twilight sky above, twinkling with millions of stars, the red and white moon both full. A gentle, warm rain came down from the cloudless sky, healing my wounds on contact. I shot up from the alter and darted my head from left to right. I was now in the center of a pleasant dell, surrounded on all sides by fertile grass, flowers of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and to my right was a tiny pond... where a beautiful woman stood on its surface.

This woman was, for lack of better description... perfect. She, in many ways, resembled a Dark Elf: dark blue skin, blood red eyes, and long pointed ears. Her hair was snow white and hung down to her waist, flowing in an unknown breeze. She wore a sky-blue robe that seemed to illuminate in the dark. Her beauty... was so perfect, it was hard to put into words. In fact it was impossible to put into words, for when I opened my mouth to speak... I was speechless.

She smiled. With perfect grace, she walked across the water's surface to its edge, stepped onto solid ground, and approached me. Then, with a voice so sweet that it could bring the darkest of souls into light, she spoke these words:

The tasks you shall undertake.

The burden of The Gods.

An excursion of the faithful.

The uncovering of Dawn

The wielding of divine power.

Fear not, for I am watchful.

Many fall, but one remains.

-o0o-

I awoke on a hard wooden floor in a dark room, surrounded by pitch black air. The air was thick with the smells of cur wood and salt. I slowly rose to my feet, only to be struck with an incredible headache. It felt as if my head had been struck by a mule. I pressed my fingers against my temples in an attempt to soothe the pain but it did me no good.

I was then greeted by a friendly sounding voice from the darkness. "Hey, are you all right?" I quickly turned to see who it was, and I was met by a Dark Elf (or Dunmer), no taller than myself. He wore rags for clothes and his right eye was missing, a black eye patch lay over the empty socket. "I said 'Are you all right?'" he repeated. I was still disorientated from the splitting headache, but after a few seconds, I was able to respond.

"Yes, I am okay." My voice was shaky. I barely had enough strength to remain standing.

"Good," he responded. "Not even last night's storm could wake you. You made worried moans as you slept. You were frightening the others."

Others?

I looked around, doing another quick assessment of my surrounds. From what little I could see, I could tell I in a small room. Its walls, floor, and ceiling all made from dock planks, an odor of sawdust also lingering in the air. A single lamp suspended from the center of the ceiling and bled dim light across the room, barely enough light to see. Around me were crates, woven baskets, cloth sacks, blankets, and various other random items.

Then, I noticed something else. Forcing my eyes to adjust to the dark room, I peered into the darkness, and figures began to appear. I then realized that there were others in the room apart from the Dark Elf and I. There were about twenty others.

"Wha... Wha... What is going...?" My body was so drained, I could not form coherent sentences. The Dark Elf stopped me.

"Easy now," he said, "you need to build up your strength. Please, lie down."

I turn around to see a row of crates with a few blankets stretched across them, forming a makeshift bed. I sat down, allowing myself to recover from everything that afflicted me. My eyes finally were fully adjusted and I was now finally able to clearly see.

In the room with me was the one eyed Dark Elf and about eighteen others, all ranging in race. There were Argonians (the lizard people of Black Marsh), Khajiits (the cat people of Elsweyr), Orcs, and humans: Imperial and Redguard. They all sat on top of crates, wearing clothing made from cloth sacks. Then, I realized something I did not at first: this room was swaying... swaying back and forth, almost rhythmically.

I looked back to the one-eyed Dark Elf. "Where am I?" I managed asked him.

"You are on a boat," he responded, "somewhere on the Eastern seas. They say we will reach Vvardenfell in another day."

Morrowind?! Morrowind was thousands of miles away from my home in Cyrodiil! What in Oblivion was I going there for! What was I doing here?! I wanted to yell, but I simply did not have the strength.

The Dark Elf continued, "We are all refuges here, looking for a new life in Morrowind. But, of course, you already know this... right?"

I shook my head. "No. I… I do not know why I am here."

"Truly? That is very odd... Though, I must admit, your appearance onto this ship was odd as well... Do you remember that at least?" I shook my head. "Under heavy guard, you were brought aboard, your unconscious body slung over a guard's shoulder."

"What kind of guards?" I asked.

"I do not know. I can only say that the insignia they shared was that of a coat of arms with two swords crossed in the center. Anyway, the guards were nothing but authoritative, dictating very direct orders to have you on this boat."

All of this was going too fast for me, too much was going for me to contemplate in my weakened state. I needed to rest. I laid down across the crate bed and started to drift off, watching the oil lamp gently rock back and forth. As sleep fell over me, I overheard the conversation of an Orc, with his deep, emphasizing voice, and an Argonian, with an eerie smoothness in his voice.

"So," said the Orc, "how long until we reach Vvardenfell?"

"I overheard the guards saying about one more day," the Argonian replied.

The Orc, relieved to hear this, sounded almost exited. "Well it is about damn time. I got family waiting for me and I do not wish to prolong it. Same with you?"

"Well... it could be said that I have 'family' waiting."

"Oh, I get your meaning. So what work you looking forward to? Legal or not?"

"What is it to you, Orc?"

"Maybe I want in, make some profit for myself."

"No deal," responded the Argonian. "In my line of work, you would not live past initiation."

"Any why not?" questioned the Orc.

"Trust me, you would be killed before you even stepped foot on the welcome mat."

"Ok, fine" the Orc dismissed. "Jeez... Just looking to pocket a few extra drakes is all."

"Fear not, ye of green skin. There is always money to be made in Morrowind. You just need to know where to look. The way I view it, it is a matter of three things: will, connections, and..."

I fell asleep before hearing the last one.

Probably loyalty.