Note: Reviews are greatly appreciated. They help me become a better writer, and give me morale to continue with my story.
Recently, I attempted to reconcile all of my Morrowind characters into a single storyline, and I found that it could actually work. Despite all my numerous play throughs, only a single character had ever finished the main quest. After this rather insightful discovery, I then got to work creating a narrative depicting the events of Morrowind as they happened in my version of the story.
This is the first story I have ever written, just to warn you, but I think that the only way I will ever become good is if I stick with it.
I also want to warn, I will take poetic lisence with the story, but all that is written here is what I made into the lore for my particular playthrough, not anyone else's. I feel that the Morrowind Story was done very well by many other people, but all these stories, while amazing, just all felt the same. I want to create a new narrative, that, while familiar to Morrowind fans, can also be interesting to people who never played the game.
I would love it if people said what they thought of this series, and I hope you enjoy the story of the Nerevarine, starting with a two month prologue, just to test the water for interest.
I know there is not much action in the series yet, but really I'm still working on characterization and finishing up the plot. I'm also trying to stay at least one chapter ahead of this archive to allow for minor editing.
I'm sorry if this series is weak right now, this one of my first stories.
Note: I do not own the Elder Scrolls, I only like to think I own my characters, Belan Indarys Helseth, Maeoni Ishani, Quirinus Latartus, and Maximillian Telarus, so if Todd Howard or anyone else reads this, and they get angry, please don't sue me.
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
Prologue: An Emperor and a Blade
A fire crackled at the far end of the Emperor's study, casting long, flickering shadows that danced like shades, taunting the aging lord. The silence was only broken by the occasional weak, ineffective cough.
His Majesty Uriel Septim VII shivered in the well embroidered chair, wrapped in blankets, staring silently into the roaring fire. It was on such dark and lonely nights, that the haunting memories of the age of Jagar Tharn seeped up into his waking mind. Faces of nameless monsters, and half remembered dreams stalked through his thoughts.
Uriel coughed again, and wrapped himself even more tightly in his blankets.
He was so entranced by the horrors of his dreams, he didn't even notice the Grandmaster of the Blades as he came into the study.
"You called me, milord," asked Jauffre, coming to attention in the dark gloom of the study, waiting for his lord's command.
Weakly, and with a raspy voice very foreign for the Emperor, Uriel shakily responded, "Jauffre, please come here, I'm afraid I cannot get up to talk."
Jauffre slowly walked across the study to the Emperor's side. He knelt at the arm of the chair, next to his lord's wrinkled ear. Uriel Septim continued to stare into the flickering flames, seemingly unaware that the master of the blades had come.
"Milord?"
Only silence.
"Many fall, but one remains," whispered the Emperor after a long pause, his eyes still fixed on the mantle.
"Milord?"
The Emperor looked over at Jauffre and smiled, and odd expression for the ruler's withered face.
"Have you ever heard of the Nerevarine Prophecy Jauffre?"
"No milord, I regret to say I have not. Why do you ask?"
"Because, my friend, I believe it may be the answer to all of our problems..."