The Elder Scrolls Three
Morrowind
I do not own Morrowind
Around him, the walls pulsed with life. Lying back, he gazed at the sheaf of parchment lying on the table before him. Magi milled around him, going about their errands. Picking up a quill, he dipped it into the ink-pot. Letting the quill fill up, he tried to get his thoughts in order. When the quill was filled, it was set to the parchment. The history of the Nerevarine unfolded from the quill.
The straw pellet beneath him had moulded to his shape, but spare stalks of straw kept poking him. Shifting, he drifted into a deeper sleep. Behind his eyelids, a landscape, blasted with fire unfolded. Watching, he could feel tears sliding down his rough cheeks as he watched the landscape withering before him. Strange words echoed throughout the dream, ones that he couldn't comprehend, except for the last few words. "Many fall, but one remains". Then the dying landscape changed into the surface of a lake, with raindrop's hitting it, dissolving the dream.
"Wake up, why are you shaking". Opening one eye, Kragnaec looked around. A heavily scarred Dark Elf, with only one eye open, the other scarred shut. Standing up, he turned toward the Dark Elf. "Where are we?" Kragnaec asked his voice husky from months of not talking. "I heard them say we've reached Morrowind". "Morrowind?" Kragnaec asked but was interrupted from receiving an answer. "Get your ass up on deck, and keep it as civilised as possible" stated the Guard that had tromped in on their conversation. Mumbling curses under his breath, Kragnaec stood up and started to follow.
Turning back to the Dunmer, he stared at where he had been. "Where's the other slave that was here?" Kragnaec asked and got a surprised glance. "What other slave, you're the only one on the boat". Sighing, the guard walked up through the boat, with Kragnaec racing ahead of him. Reaching up to the hatch, he pressed his shoulder against it. Creaking open, Kragnaec clambered out and looked around. The tiny town of Seyda Neen, complete with all the hovels and muck ponds, greeted him.
I do not own Morrowind
Around him, the walls pulsed with life. Lying back, he gazed at the sheaf of parchment lying on the table before him. Magi milled around him, going about their errands. Picking up a quill, he dipped it into the ink-pot. Letting the quill fill up, he tried to get his thoughts in order. When the quill was filled, it was set to the parchment. The history of the Nerevarine unfolded from the quill.
The straw pellet beneath him had moulded to his shape, but spare stalks of straw kept poking him. Shifting, he drifted into a deeper sleep. Behind his eyelids, a landscape, blasted with fire unfolded. Watching, he could feel tears sliding down his rough cheeks as he watched the landscape withering before him. Strange words echoed throughout the dream, ones that he couldn't comprehend, except for the last few words. "Many fall, but one remains". Then the dying landscape changed into the surface of a lake, with raindrop's hitting it, dissolving the dream.
"Wake up, why are you shaking". Opening one eye, Kragnaec looked around. A heavily scarred Dark Elf, with only one eye open, the other scarred shut. Standing up, he turned toward the Dark Elf. "Where are we?" Kragnaec asked his voice husky from months of not talking. "I heard them say we've reached Morrowind". "Morrowind?" Kragnaec asked but was interrupted from receiving an answer. "Get your ass up on deck, and keep it as civilised as possible" stated the Guard that had tromped in on their conversation. Mumbling curses under his breath, Kragnaec stood up and started to follow.
Turning back to the Dunmer, he stared at where he had been. "Where's the other slave that was here?" Kragnaec asked and got a surprised glance. "What other slave, you're the only one on the boat". Sighing, the guard walked up through the boat, with Kragnaec racing ahead of him. Reaching up to the hatch, he pressed his shoulder against it. Creaking open, Kragnaec clambered out and looked around. The tiny town of Seyda Neen, complete with all the hovels and muck ponds, greeted him.