Bethesda owns… The Indoril Warrior's version of Morrowind's history...

Written mainly because of my adoration for Nerevar(ine), and Morrowind (er…Vvardenfell). Oh, how I miss those gravelly-voiced, cranky Dark Elves!

A very grateful nod to UESPWiki for making it easy to re-read all the in-game books from Morrowind, which made this chapter possible, even if the in-game books constantly contradicted one another. [sniffle]

O.O

Mephala and Azura are the twin gates of tradition and Boethiah is the secret flame.

"Grrr!" Stomp.

The sun shall be eaten by lions, which cannot be found yet in Veloth.

"Raargh!" Slash. Kick.

Six are the vests and garments worn by the suppositions of men.

"Damn you, you… nwah!" Stab. Stab. Stab.

Tumin snarled in frustration at the bush impeding his path. Heat from the sun was welcome in the cold shadows of the western Velothi Mountains bordering Skyrim, but only if one was not wearing Ebony Armour. The weight alone caused him to sweat profusely; he could feel his body steaming beneath the heavy volcanic glass. He was slowly being poached alive, and all for some vague words spoken by an historically interfering busy-body of a Daedric Prince: Azura. Once again he cursed himself for not having had the foresight to train in light glass armour, which would have been a much easier burden to bear.

The Dark Elf had tried ridding his mind of his currently steamy state by mentally reciting some of Vivec's Lessons, but now found himself at a physical and mental impasse. Vivec's Sixth Lesson wasn't doing anything to bolster his flagging spirit, so he felt it necessary to switch tactics. Morrowind history was something that he did know, having lived through much of it.

In the beginning, there was the Prophet Veloth.

Well, more like: 'In the First Era, the Dunmer were initially a group of Aldmer ostracized for worshipping their Daedric Ancestors'. The damnable mountain range surrounding him was named after the long-dead Aldmer Prophet-turned-Saint who had led the outcasts from persecution, so it seemed as good a time-period as any to start with. Tumin glared at the wall of alpine scrub stonewalling his progress. What had Veloth been thinking of when he led his followers across the lands of Tamriel, only to have to navigate through this cold, windy, snowy, misery inducing passageway? Pfft. Grumbling, Tumin continued to hack, slash, and stab his way through the insolent vegetation before him.

Lo and behold, the incoming Aldmer found their new-found land already inhabited by a diminutive folk known as the Dwemer.

That the Dwemer had already named the eastern land Dwemereth was not surprising, nor was the constant conflict between the two peoples. The dwellers of the deep were a secretive, irreverent lot, preferring to focus on the construction of machinery to elevate their spirits rather than humbly worship the Daedra as the newly renamed Chimer did.

Admittedly, the Dwemer architecture still amazed him. He could see the glint of ancient Dwemer domes dotting the peaks from where he stood. Now to find one of their indestructible roads! Though old and almost forgotten, roads leading to the enduring ruins were as fixed as the mountains themselves.

Then came the Great Houses: Dagoth, Dres, Hlaalu, Redoran, Telvanni, and the greatest of them all, Indoril.

Of course, House Indoril wasn't the greatest just because Tumin was an Indoril. The personification of Chimer perfection, Lord-King Nerevar, was the first of the Indoril, and it only made sense that the House of the original Hortator had to be the finest, as well.

"Hah!"

The warrior smugly surveyed the now shredded brush, and proceeded to angrily trample over the stumpy remains as he passed by. Heavy armour was good for stomping on things, at least.

Some pesky Nords swooped down upon the land from the northwestern mountains, so the kings of the Dwemer and Chimer – Dumac Dwarfking (or DwarfOrc as some suggest) and Indoril Nerevar – formed an alliance to smite them. Thus the First Council was born. They renamed the land Resdayn, living in relative peace until the War of the First Council came to pass.

Tumin growled bitterly as he fought against the steady incline of the rugged trail, his ruby-red eyes constantly searching for the path of least resistance. He was all too aware of upcoming mobility issues upon these wind-blown, icy slopes. Determination borne from long years of arduous training kept him focused, though. Those left of the House of Nerevar did not easily declare defeat, and he refused to be the first to do so.

A Dwemer Tonal Architect, Kagrenac, found part of an Aedra, Lorkhan's Heart, and secretly constructed a monstrous metal golem to contain it. His arcane tools - Wraithguard, Keening, and Sunder - were crafted to tune into the vibrations of the god's heart.

Red Mountain, the gigantic volcano residing on the island of Vvardenfell, was where the War of the First Council came to a head after Nerevar challenged Dumac about the creation of the god-hearted golem, Numidium. When the dust finally settled, the Dwemer vanished. All (but one) were instantaneously wiped out, erased from the face of Tamriel.

Historians are conflicted about the events of this time. Some scholars say Dumac allied himself with the Nords, Orcs, and House Dagoth against the Dres, Hlaalu, Indoril, Redoran, and Telvanni Houses. Others claim Lord-General Voryn Dagoth to be the one who had informed Indoril Nerevar of the dangerous new golem-god, and begged the Chimer king to find a way to destroy the works of Kagrenac.

Success at last! He was nearing the summit where a stony bridge spanned the ravine. Tumin clambered up the shallow incline, and felt a momentary surge of relief when the outline of a building came into view. Shelter!

The most sinister version of First Era history concerns Nerevar's wife, Queen Almalexia, along with his most trusted counselors, Sotha Sil the Mage, and Vivec the Philosopher. Some believe the three conspired against their king once they learned of the power of Kagrenac's Tools. While guarding the tools for Nerevar, Lord Dagoth played around with said tools, and instantly became Evil Personified, whereupon he changed his name to Dagoth Ur. Nerevar was murdered before the artifacts could be destroyed, at which point Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and Vivec also played around with Kagrenac's Tools, transforming into Goodly Living Gods – the Tribunal.

Outraged by the regicide, and the proclamations of god-hood, Azura called forth a curse upon all the Chimer, changing their golden skin to ash-grey and their eyes to dark red. From then on they were known as the Dunmer.

As Tumin walked quickly towards the would-be haven, he noticed shadows flickering around the Dwemer ruin. Raising his eyes skyward, he groaned in disbelief.

"Oh, no."

Cliff-racers. Lots of cliff-racers. He sighed heavily, and looked for another shelter nearby. Hmph. Only this one was accessible. Grasping the spear at his back, he strode towards the ruin. Tumin focused on the upcoming jabbing, skewering, and stabbing of bothersome winged pests, feeling the semblance of a smile tug at his lips. Finally facing a somewhat worthy foe was fitting for his Warrior status; it was just a matter of waiting for them to quit their cowardly hovering and begin their descent.

Exactly when Resdayn became Morrowind is not clear. In historical documents, by the time Emperors Reman II and III attempted to conquer Morrowind during the Four Score War, Resdayn had simply ceased to exist. Thankfully, so did the Reman Dynasty once they were all assassinated, bringing an end to the First Era.

Mehrunes Dagon's decision to choose this time to invade and destroy the Indoril city of Mournhold was rather unsettling for the Dunmer. Almalexia and Sotha Sil were able to cast the Daedric Lord back into Oblivion, but arrived too late to save the city. Why Dagon felt the need to destroy the Dark Elves at the end of eras still has them mystified.

Tumin watched the circling, flying vermin cautiously, and continued to wait.

The Second Era was relatively uneventful outside of a few Dunmer House wars, the introduction of various Guilds, unchecked assassinations, a continent-wide killer flu, and an attempted invasion by the Akaviri. The Vvardenfell Island Dunmer had yet to realize the sheer number of Ash critters dwelling in their midst. Most likely because the ghoulish creatures preferred to remain hidden behind the Ghostfence erected around Red Mountain, built by the Tribunal to contain the Evil Dagoth Ur.

Still waiting, he halfheartedly jabbed up at the slowly descending beasts. If only he'd learned the art of archery! His mana was limited, so fire spells were a last resort.

The Third Era was ushered in by Emperor Tiber Septim, father of the Septim Dynasty. Realizing the Dunmer were too long-lived and stubborn a people to wage an endless war with, he worked out a deal through the goodly Living God Vivec. With Morrowind in line, the Empire was nigh-complete. It was a somewhat strategic advantage that Tiber's right hand man – General Symmachus – was himself a Dunmer.

The traditionalists within the Dres, Indoril, and Redoran Houses were outraged by the concessions. Many of the highest ranking Indoril showed their keen disapproval by committing suicide. Though the Dres and Redoran Houses refused to show their disgust by offing themselves, their influence waned without Indoril support. Dres compensated their losses by siding with Hlaalu, the merchants of Morrowind, and the Redoran threw their lot in with the Tribunal Temple.

The cliff-racers were finally close enough to start their tail-stabbing tactics, so he raised his spear to rebuff them. This was an old tried-and-true dance to Tumin. He concentrated on the oneness of body, arm and spear, especially the twisting thrusts and pulls that accompanied gouging. It was only a matter of minutes before cliff-racer corpses littered the cobbled ground at his feet. He knew better than to touch them, for they were carriers of debilitating diseases. Letting them be, the Dunmer stumbled wearily over their bodies to the entrance.

Not long after Tiber's 'conquest', General Symmachus married the newly appointed Queen Barenziah. A few centuries later they had a son, Helseth and a daughter, Morgiah. House Hlaalu has been rejoicing ever since.

House Telvanni detached themselves from the Great House politics, choosing a life of isolation in the northeastern islands, and none felt a need to pressure them to join in. Whispered stories of thousand-year-olds who were half blind, mostly deaf, and gifted with the ability to invoke an arsenal of deadly spells simultaneously was enough to keep most life-loving folk far, far away.

As he passed through the ancient doorway, Tumin mulled over the purpose of his quest, and almost snorted in disgust. Azura had recently shown herself to a Redoran priestess in a dream, informing her of the upcoming battle between mortals and gods. Hmph! Daedric presence had brought about many of the disasters within Morrowind, the most notable being the Oblivion Crisis. He for one objected to their interference. Especially the sneaky ones that crept into dreams to go on about 'Oh, forsooth, the end is nigh.' According to the history books, the end was always nigh.

The Aedric Gods and Daedric Ancestors were embroiled in a struggle for control of mortal spirit, and Azura was flitting around giving visions of a Nordic man in a dungeon cell. Tumin sniffed. Those damned barbarians were always causing trouble, and the journey to free a securely contained rabble-rouser irritated him to no end. But, she wanted this Nord protected; most likely from himself, no doubt. Nords were quite infamous for running amok through ice and snow wearing little more than a bit of war-paint and strategically placed pelts as armour.

With great relief he noted the absence of enemies within the ruin, mechanical or otherwise. Ancient Dwemer ghosts were the worst kind of fiends. After setting down his weaponry and supplies, he began to peel the armour off his aching body.

When Tiber Septim died he became a member of the Aedra, to be known thereafter as Talos. Sad to say, the newest god did not seem overly eager to answer the prayers of his descendants; the most obviously ignored being the poor, pious Uriel Septim VII. Much strife occurred during the occupation of the Septim Dynasty. The hiding and eventual finding of ancient artifacts, royal family feuds, and provincial rebellions were commonplace events.

Then, near the close of the Third Era, along came the Nerevarine. By this time Vvardenfell was slowly being consumed by the Blight storms and Ash monstrosities in the service of the Evil Dagoth Ur, whose long forgotten House, Dagoth, had been renamed The Sixth House, and mainly consisted of Ash Vampires, Ash Ghouls, and Ascended Sleepers.

A young Breton mage, an Outlander, mysteriously appeared on the island one day, changing their lives forever. Rumours of her membership in Uriel Septim VIIs Order of the Blades made her the focus of persecution by the Tribunal Temple, and its most devoted followers, but she overcame the opposition and prevailed.

Tumin moaned in relief as he removed his gauntlets, helm, boots, and pauldrons.

Her first obstacle had been to garner the acceptance of the Ashlanders - a stubborn group of nomadic Dunmer content to remain separate from the politics of the Great Houses. The second objective, becoming the warlord of the Clans and Houses, the Hortator, was an impressive deed in itself considering Vvardenfell's contempt for outlanders. It was probably a blessing that only three Houses had presence on the island: Hlaalu, Redoran, and Telvanni.

Finding the cure for the highly contagious and deadly Corprus disease she had contracted from Sixth House dwellers must have been horrific, but the final quest, the monumental battle to defeat the powerful Dagoth Ur, was an incredible feat. Even the Tribunal of Living Gods could not accomplish such a thing.

The knowledge that she wore the fabled ring of Nerevar, Azura's cursed Moon-and-Star, became common enough to enable the island-wide acceptance of the Breton. Though her name remains lost to historians, she was the Nerevarine, as the ring could only be worn by Nerevar or his incarnation.

"Ahhhhhh." The stench emanating off his sweating body did not deter a deep sigh as he removed the cuirass and greaves.

After Dagoth Ur was killed and the Blight storms purged from the island, dark rumours of the seemingly heroic Breton ran rampant throughout Morrowind. Whenever she visited a Living God, that god would disappear, never to be seen or heard from again. Then one day she vanished as well. The Nerevarine was last seen on a boat heading towards the east. Akavir, perhaps? No one knows.

Tumin decided to rest before mucking around with fire and food. He was exhausted. A short nap wouldn't hurt, surely. His mind drifted as he yawned, stretched, and rubbed his eyes.

Even though he had cursed the request to pursue this folly, he was aware of the Redoran unease. Dutiful, pious, and sullen as they were, fear was uncommon amongst the Red House warriors. Something terrible and fierce, a beast not seen for thousands of years, had cast an enormous shadow over the mountain border of the Northern Coast Region. He'd been 'volunteered' to seek out the source of the terror in the land of Skyrim. As demeaning as it was to bow to the wishes of the Redoran, most of his House had been reduced to refugee status after the disappearance of the Living Gods: to refuse the request would have been churlish.

Without the Living God to keep it afloat, the air-borne Ministry of Truth had crashed into the City of Vivec, causing a massive eruption of Red Mountain. The island was demolished, and much of the mainland was destroyed in the aftermath.

Only pockets of northern and southern Morrowind were spared undue calamity. Until the Argonian invasion overwhelmed the south, that is. That was when the fear and desperation truly began for many of his kin. Fortunately, he and a few fellow Indoril brothers found refuge in the Redoran north. At least there he was sheltered and relatively safe. Trust Azura to come along and spoil it all.

There were only a few more of days of travel ahead of him now that he'd found the Dwemer roadway, but locating the imprisoned Nord? Now that was going to be a real challenge.

"Ah, the things we do for Gods and Ancestors," he grumbled, praying Azura would know better than to invade his dreams.

O.O

Thank you muchly: Enaid Aderyn, Abydos Jackson, ChampionTheWonderSnail, interesting2125, and irishman91. :D