A Dwarf To Remember
Chapter 1: Sayonara Balmora
For years I have been reclusive and hidden. I, the second to last living Dwarf, Mzuku Druargan. Yet, during the waning years of the Third Era, I began to plan. Nerevar had been reincarnated, as a Dunmer of course. And unlike the previous ones, he succeeded. Dagoth Ur died. Red Mountain ceased to splash it's evil, Corprus monsters simply died in their tracks. All of his minions fell and perished into dust--much like my people. So, nearly a hundred years after Nerevar succession, and his soon expiration, I decided to come from my hidden spot in the mountains of Ash. My people were no more, I knew that as I crept my hidden cave--clad in Dwemer armor and a Dwarven Dai-Katana.
They were imprisoned by Azura, a Deadric Prince who banished them to an Oblivion Prison. During that time I was spending my vacation as a Grand General in the Deadra Out world, away from Nirn and in complete safety. When I returned to the haven, Red Mountain, my people were gone. Nothing left but ash and monsters, and a unbalanced anger swept through me. Yet, I knew that I could not destroy Vvardenfell in the condition I was in. Bruised, tired, and sick of fighting, I dug a large hole in the ground, and lived off what animals passed me by. Sadly the bones of at least a thousand travelers lingered in my cave, I got information and the latest news from them--then ate them. But with eating the flesh of Nords, Dunmer, Orcs and various other races, I began to creep into the pit of insanity. Finally, one faithful day, an Imperial strolled by. He told me of Nerevar's great conquest over 90 years ago, but that Nerevar was long dead. Smiling at him, the very bottom of my large Dwarven boot dug into his skull.
Now I wondered aimlessly through the black desert. A while back I dropped the enormous mask/helmet clinging unto my face. It was only the cuirass, pauldron, gauntlet, leg plates and boots I had left. Not to mention the torn black clothing beneath my golden armor. Then, there was my might Dai-Katana, which I called Aldo, or, First Warrior. A long, long trail of my footprints was behind my, and I held my weapon carefully in it's sheathe. I continued to wander, my beard and long, brown hair helping the sweat drip down the sides of my face. A low growl passed by lips, and this desert of ash seemed to drag on forever. After making my way over a rather steep hill, I simply fell unto my knees in the maddening heat. But things were getting better, grass was now outlining the area. And as I crept a bit further, the image of a stone city came into view. Balmora. The pumping heart of trade in Morrowind. Now that nightfall had come, only a few citizens and bonemeld Hlaalu guards strolled the area. I hated the Dunmer. I hated them with every ounce of my body. And now, they prosper? They are the dominant ones in my homeland! This, this simply cannot be imaginable, I barely could conceive the thought of those Dark Elves prospering among themselves. But, before my very eyes, there were Dunmer guards engaging in dialogue with one another. Anger consumed me. A blinding fury came over my body, and I could barely keep my balance. Soon I stood up and unsheathed my blade. Soft, unheard footsteps guided me downward next to a building on the west side of town. There was a solitary moment of resting, and with that, I ran at the a single Hlaalu guard in the clearing, across from an Armory. "What is this?" He called out, chuckling at first. Thus, his hidden grin would disappear as I allowed my near-unbreakable sword to impale through his chest. "Gah! Aaaaah, aaaaah!" He moaned in pain, blood shooting out from the holes in his mask. Ripping my sword from his defeated body, the Dunmer trash simply fell into a puddle of his own blood. "You will suffer greatly!" Another guard shouted, unsheathing his long sword and charging at me from a staircase leaning down to the river. As he rushed in my direction, I ran to him as well. Like the previous wars between the Chimer and Dwarves, the Dwarven flourished. He brought his sword downward on me, but I simply held my Dai-Katana up, effectively blocking it, and pushing it upward before my foot lunged into his groin area. "Ow!" He shouted, but soon gurgled as I vindictively ran the blade across his dark blue neck, his crimson liquid spilling out and staining his armor. "Foolish Dunmer!" I yelled in Dwemer. Another guard ran up the stairs, coming toward me with in a sprint. Calmly I moved down the staircase, and dodged any attempts at impaling me that he had. Seizing his breath for moment, I chopped the blade into the back of his legs, cutting them right off. "No! Oh my God, no, no!" He cried out, falling down the stairs as a slab of meat. Soon the town fell quiet, and there probably no more guards at that particular time.
Dawn came. The sun rose upward at 6:30 AM, citizens began treading out of their homes for their daily routines, probably nothing but what Dunmer do. I watched from the rooftops, particularly the ones above the alley where my massacre had occurred. It was until about 7:00 AM when a Bosmer found the dead trio. "In the name of Almsivi! There are dead guards here!" He called in a panic. Soon most of the town, or anyone who was out, had surrounded the scene. A wicked grin swept across my face, and I made one last glorious attempt on Balmora. WOOSH! Leaping from the roof, my seemingly huge boots stomped against the stone ground. "Citizens of Balmora." My voice deep and accusing, but I spoke in the Language they could understand. "This is the beginning of the Dwemer campaign! And you will my wrath!" With that, I unsheathed Aldo, and impaled a Dunmer clad in a green robe. He spat up blood and slid from my blade, before most of the crowd came after me. One after another, I was cutting through all sorts of races. A Nordic women fell, her face nearly cut into. The Bosmer I had seen previously also fell to my cruel blade. When all was said and done, the bodies of half of Balmora lay at my feet, and not a single drop of my Dwarven blood stained these streets. Sighing gently, I exited the gates and disappeared in the growing fog.