Disclaimer: I don't own Morrowind. The prayers that Jiub says at the end are taken from two in-game books: Saryoni's Sermons and Book of Dusk and Dawn. If you've never bothered to read in the books in the game, I suggest spending some time with them—they are fascinating.

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The traders had taken her directly to the tiny Imperial Cult chapel at the back of the fort and laid her on the ground in front of the altar. Stretched out like that, her head lolling to the side, she looked like a sacrificial animal about to be presented to some daedra prince. Jiub shook his head, trying to push the disturbing thought from his mind.

A thin, middle-aged Nord woman with closely cropped yellow hair squatted by Dak's head, eyeing the injured woman critically. Judging by her simple but clean green robes, this was the chapel's keeper.

The woman looked up as Jiub stepped into the chapel doorway. "You are the friend they mentioned?"

He nodded, unsure of when he'd started to consider Dak a friend. Somewhere between the prison ship and here, he realized with a sinking feeling—maybe as early as when she first puked on him on the boat. "How is she?"

The priestess straightened, moving stiffly and favoring her right leg. "Dying," she informed him bluntly, "But yet not. She's got a foul temper when she's awake, doesn't she?"

He nodded again. "You can tell that just by looking at her?"

She snorted. "It's pretty obvious that she's the better warrior of you two, but nonetheless, she took the worse beating. Since I'm not seeing any defensive wounds, I'm inclined to believe that she kept charging into the fray with little regard for her safety, so she's either crazy or she was enraged. Now, get out—if I'm going to heal your friend, then I'm going to need to pray."

The priestess turned her back on him—just assuming that he would follow her directions—and knelt before the altar, folding her hands before her.

Jiub backed out of the room, relieved that she had dismissed him rather than trying to coax him into praying with her. It had happened before. He was a dark elf, born and raised in Morrowind—he'd been brought up paying homage to the Tribunal and never quite knew what to do with the empire's Nine Divines. He settled himself in a corner just outside the chapel and folded his legs in front of him.

Fort Pelagiad wasn't particularly large, though it was big enough to house everyone from the town and surrounding countryside in case of a siege. He was sitting in the main hall right now, watching a female orc armorer going about her work. The rhythmic tapping of the hammer as she pounded rivets into a piece of leather started to lull him to sleep. Jiub leaned his head back against the stones of the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd prayed…yes, he did. It had been in Necrom, just before he had gone into that last tomb and everything had gone so very wrong. His fingers crept up to rub at the dried up orb that was all that was left of his right eye.

I was greedy and stupid to think that Vivec would protect me as I plundered a tomb holding the sacred remains of one of his people. 'Engrave upon thy eye the image of injustice'—that was the lesson I failed to take to heart, so Vivec forced it physically upon me.

"I have not been generous. I have not been humble or proud," he whispered to himself. "And I haven't been particularly smart either." He leaned forward again and folded his hands in his lap. It had been years since he had said studied the sermons of Lord Vivec, but the words came easily to his lips, having been drummed into him by his pious mother so long ago. "'Thank you for your justice, Lord Vivec. I shall be neither cruel nor arbitrary, for fair dealing earns the love, trust, and respect of our people. Thank you for your pride, Lord Vivec. I shall not doubt myself, or my people, or my gods, and shall insist upon them, and my ancient rights. Thank you for your generosity, Lord Vivec. I shall neither hoard nor steal, nor encumber myself with profitless treasures, but shall share freely among house and hearth…'"

A hand touched his shoulder, startling him from his prayer. He looked up to find Ygfa standing over him, her wrinkled face looking even more worn. "I have healed your friend. She should wake up soon," the priestess informed him.

"Thank you," he said to both her and to his gods.