Hortator – Moon & Star of Westeros - Chapter 1: Heart torn Asunder
"DAGOTH!" Exclaimed the Nerevarine as he stood twenty paces from Dagoth-Ur. It seemed Dagoth-Ur had been waiting for the Nerevarine as he began to welcome his old friend.
"Ah, Nerevar, welcome. Welcome, my old friend! I see you have brought me Wraithguard, and the tools! Excellent! Most excellent!" The Sharmat laughed with a tone filled with mirth. "Thank you Nerevar for bringing me these gifts. I will put them to good use, immediately." Dagoth-Ur took a step forward only for the Nerevarine to take a step back. It had become clear this encounter would not go peacefully as Dagoth-Ur had hoped. "Nerevar.. hand over th-"
The loud scratching of metal could be heard throughout the Heart Chamber as the Nerevarine quickly pulled Keening from its brass scabbard to interrupt Dagoth-Ur. "Enough, Dagoth, enough! Don't give me your tripe, Dagoth! Look at what you've done!" The Nerevarine with Keening in hand took three steps closer towards Dagoth-Ur. "The terror you unleashed on the tribes! The horrors of Corprus! Do you have any idea of the pain you've caused?" Demanded the Nerevarine.
Dagoth-Ur responded with a short snort of derision. "Terror? Pain? Oh, sweet Nerevar, still a naïve fool after all this time. These things you foolishly refer to as pain and terror will free Morrowind from its chains! The false Tribunal, the pathetic Empire, and that petulant Deadra Azura will all suffer the Sixth House's wrath." Not letting Dagoth-Ur continue his rant the Nerevarine wasted little time in attacking the mad Dunmer with Keening. The speed of the blows surprised Dagoth-Ur. He attempted to defend himself to little success as blow after blow from the Nerevarine landed upon the vulnerable body of the stunned Dagoth-Ur. The onslaught only ended when Keening penetrated deep into the abdomen of Dagoth-Ur, quickly followed by a swift push from the Nerevarine. The once mighty Sharmat was sent tumbling to the ground, collapsing onto the volcanic soil like a puppet with its strings cut.
Nerevarine, Protector of Morrowind, felt little pride as he cast down the dark leader of the Sixth House Dagoth-Ur. Dagoth-Ur and the Nerevarine were in some ways brothers by circumstance, bound together by the suffering they received from the collective betrayal of the three members of the Tribunal. Any sympathies felt between the Nerevarine, and Dagoth-Ur had been quickly cast aside after the Nerevarine struck a fatal blow upon the mad Dunmer with Keening. The Nerevarine turned from a now fatally wounded Dagoth-Ur, only the sounds of his deranged rantings could be heard as the Nerevarine gazed upon the Heart of Lorkhan. Now with everything set in motion by the Deadric Prince Azura had come to a head, the Nerevarine approached the Heart. The charred volcanic soil seemed to vibrate like a drum as the arbiter of Azura's prophecy and will pounded upon the heart of a dying god with Sunder.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Cried out a bleeding Dagoth-Ur from the ground as the Nerevarine unleashed all his frustrations upon the Heart of Lorkhan. The furious swipes of Keening and the powerful blows of Sunder created a beat that flowed through the volcano that stood at the head of Morrowind. Reality itself started to fold in on itself as the Nerevarine intensified his onslaught, each swipe, each blow contributing to the song of the mountain and heart.
Was it a bang? Was it a crunch? Maybe it was more a powdery crumbling sound? Neither the Nerevarine nor Dagoth-Ur was certain to the sound, but it was the perfect tone. A magical tone even Chief Tonal Architect Kagrenac would have been proud to hear. In the briefest of moments this tone rung like a bell throughout Morrowind, it's siren call singing one thing to all: It's over. The Heart of Lorkhan exploded in but an instant, briefly destroying reality within the heart of the volcano as the magical energies of a truly ancient entity was released – ending the threat of Dagoth-Ur and the Heart.
"Moon..Moon and Star! Nerevar!" Dagoth-Ur pitifully exclaimed as he gripped his abdomen, a failing attempt to hold in his oozing lifeblood as he laid upon the ground. As the dust cleared it became clear to the mad Sharmat that the Nerevarine was gone. Was he killed? Was he transported? Did what happened to the Dwemer happen to him? Thoughts raced through the mind of Dagoth-Ur as all the now collapsing Akulakhan, Dagoth-Ur's facsimile of the ancient Brass God, fell apart. Dagoth-Ur closed his eyes as the massive right arm of Akulakhan tumbled towards his fallen form, he knew the weight alone would mean the inevitable. Only the inevitable did not come, not yet. When Dagoth-Ur opened his eyes he saw her, Azura, prince of oblivion, using her great Deadric powers to hold the arm of Akulakhan right above Dagoth-Ur. Her smirk was like a dagger into the heart of Dagoth-Ur as her renowned arrogance wafted off her like an invisible fire.
"Oh Voryn, look at how far you have come! Look at how far you have fallen…Such a shame." The ethereal Azura said in the same tone a mother would pity the antics of her misbegotten child."You see yourself the victim, a tragic figure that noble poets should wax on about in the halls of the great houses. You may see yourself this way, but the truth is you are no different than Vivec, Almalexia or Sotha-Sil. You were an opportunist. You gazed upon the Heart and coveted its power. You are a thief! Thieves, all of you! You had no use to me then, and you have no use to me now! Only my Nerevarine served his purpose. Though… I worry the Heart may have destroyed him."
Dagoth-Ur attempted to give some sort of chide remark to Azura but all that came out was a wet cough followed by a pained wheeze and a trickle of blood leaking from the rim of his helmet. Though the Sharmat failed to speak he could tell by the slight spark of annoyance in the eyes of Azura that his message had been clear. Dagoth-Ur felt a slight comfort in knowing the Tribunal has more than likely returned to being mortal. He assumed their newfound mortality would drive them to madness, or at the very least set them on the path to their eventual deaths. This small comfort was followed by a small burst of pride knowing he annoyed Azura, but what came next was a strange feeling of dread. It didn't come for himself; it came with the thought of Nerevar. Azura's passing comment about Nerevar tore into his heart. Nerevar, despite being one of his foes and the man who struck the blow that will kill him, was still the only other person alive who could understand what they went through with the Dwemer, Tribunal, and Azura.
Dagoth-Ur couldn't help but hope Nerevar escaped from the influence of the Deadric prince as the massive arm of Akulakhan resumed its drop towards the fallen Dunmer. Azura watched with pride as Dagoth-Ur's abomination finally killed him in an unceremonious explosion of super-heated rock and magma. It gave her a feeling of satisfaction to watch the mad Sharmat fall upon the same proverbial sword he had created. She watched as Dagoth-Ur's body and lair is consumed by the agitated magma flow of the same mountain he resided in. All that remained was the perturbed feelings of the Deadric prince Azura. Her prophecy was completed, but it came at the cost of her most useful tool. It was not the perfect ending she had planned; it was less than satisfactory to her. Only once she had the Nerevarine would she truly revel in her accomplishment. Azura, as arrogant as she was beautiful, knew what she would do next: locate her Nerevarine.
The Vale of Arryn - Mountains of the Moon
The Nerevarine laid face up on the forest floor. Suddenly, the Nerevarine gasped as he sat up. He looked to his left and then to his right in a state of confusion. "What..Where…Am I in Solstheim?" Asked the Nerevarine to no one as he slowly pushed himself up from the forest floor. The climate was certainly similar to parts of Solstheim, but it lacked much of the same flora that was native to the island. The Nerevarine checked over himself, his Vvardenfell made glass armor was still on his person with the Wraithgaurd gauntlet still integrated into the suit of armor. Sunder was nowhere to be found and Keening was currently embedded in a nearby tree with said tree now smoldering. He turned only to see a massive mountain range stretching as far as the eye could see. This reminded the Nerevarine of the mountains of Skyrim, or at the very least the border of Skyrim. The white capped peaks, rolling mountains, at a first glance it seemed the Heart had actually sent him to Skyrim instead of Solstheim. "Is this..Skyrim? Did the Heart send me to Skyrim? Why there?" Any remaining curiosity and confusion had to be put aside as the familiar sound of arrows flying through the air alerted the Nerevarine. One, two, then three arrows firmly placed themselves into the grass near the Dunmer. The first instinct of the Nerevarine was to stand and fight, but once he saw maybe a 100 or more Nord like people poured from the wood line like Kwamas, he did the one thing any reasonable man of Morrowind would do: Run fast and hard. The Nerevarine quickly ripped Keening from the tree, sending charcoal like splinters down to the ground as more arrows made their way in his direction. With a frustrated growl the Dunmer took off into the mountain forest with a small army on his heels.