Chapter 1: Bitter Homecoming
3E 427, 16 Last Seed. Inner Sea
"Vvardenfell. The largest island in Tamriel. Vvardenfell makes up roughly half of all of Morrowind. Separated from the mainland by the Inner Sea, it lies in the most Northwest corner of the continent. Home of the Dunmer and before them the Chimer. The most outstanding feature of Vvardenfell's landscape is the Red Mountain. A volcano that sits at the very heart of the island. Years of regular eruptions had caused the lands around the volcano to be covered with a thick layer of ash. Those same eruptions are responsible for a mysterious illness that the locals refer to as the 'Ashblight'. It is said that the blight was devised by an ancient creature that resides within the mountain and causes unnatural aggressiveness within humanoids and creatures alike. It was for this reason that the Tribunal constructed the so-called Ghostfence - an enormous magical fence that encircles the entire mountain - during the first Era. "
Iorveth recited the passage he'd memorized from a book about Morrowind as he stared out over the water. He was standing on the deck of an imperial cargo ship, gently rocking on the waters of the Inner Sea. On the horizon ahead of him lay the coast of the island of Vvardenfell. They were headed for the port town Seyda Neen; a small imperial settlement in the Bitter Coast region. Surrounded by inhospitable marshlands the town hardly seemed pleasant, but after last night's storm anything was a welcome change of location. Strange, he thought, how the weather had suddenly taken such a turn for the worse. It all seemed fine when the ship set sail two days ago. Apparently one of the prisoners below had fallen ill and slept through the entire thing. Poor fellow must be in bad shape then, considering that the storm was so violent that I thought the ship would be torn apart at any given moment. He leaned over the railing and continued staring ahead towards the ever growing coastline. In addition to the prisoners, the ship was carrying some food, spices, weapons and other necessities. Even though it wasn't exactly a luxurious ferry, he'd been lucky to catch a ride, as it was the last ship to sail out for Vvardenfell for the rest of the month. Of course, it had come at a hefty price. Iorveth glared to his right where the guard captain stood talking to his comrade, undoubtedly showing off his new sword. Iorveth's sword. It had been an expensive sword, damn it. Hardened steel core with silver plating. Richly decorated with engravings and set with gemstones. Plague on it, Iorveth thought. He still had his dagger and magic to defend himself. At least until he could find a capable blacksmith to craft him a new sword.
The ship was now close enough to be able to identify some of the island's smaller features. For the most part, the coastline was dominated by enormous trees, riddled with vines and muddy green leaves. In the West, Iorveth could see a glimpse of a small fishing village. Most of the structures appeared to be constructed from wood and stood on tall pillars in the middle of the water. In the East stood a great stone fortress. One of the guards had told Iorveth that the fortress was called Ebonheart. It was the centerpoint of the imperial authority in Vvardenfell. Not only did it house the seat of Duke Vedam Dren, it was also the administrative center of the Imperial Cult's presence. From there, missionaries were sent all over the island to spread the 'divine inspiration' of the Nine Divines. Right between the fortress and the village lay their destination. Iorveth could see the lighthouse and a grand stone warehouse that made up most of Seyda Neen. The rest of the buildings were relatively small, consisting of stone walls, cladded with white clay and straw roofing - typical imperial architecture.
Iorveth was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the guard captain approaching him. "Pardon, traveller." He spoke as he tapped Iorveth on his shoulder. Iorveth looked at the redguard. He estimated that the man was around 50 years of age. His hair was mostly black but showed some patches of grey. He was wearing a chainmail cuirass with matching pauldrons, sturdy leather boots and heavy steel-plated gauntlets. On his hip he carried the sword that had belonged to Iorveth up until two days ago. "We will be arriving in Seyda Neen in a couple of minutes. I must ask that you report to the Census and excise office immediately once we make port. You will be asked to fill in some forms and provide some personal information. Just formalities, you know how it is, but the higher-ups like to keep track of whoever enters the region." Iorveth nodded as he listened to the redguard's instructions. The man went on for a while about 'The Legion's darned bureaucracy' while the rest of the crew started preparing for docking. The conversation was a bit one-sided, but the man spoke in a friendly manner and seemed genuinely interested in trying to educate Iorveth about the situation on the island. "You see, I can complain about the bureaucracy all day," The redguard continued "But even I see why it's necessary. The whole country is a political mess. We have the council with representatives from all the major factions, but all of them are at eachothers' throats with accusations of conspiring and back room politics, trying to reinforce their own position by hiring outsiders not unlike yourself to do the dirty work. The whole situation is a tinderbox, and all it takes is a single spark to disintegrate the uneasy truce between the great houses of Morrowind and the Legion." Iorveth paid close attention. He wasn't interested in politics; he detested the subject as a whole, but it might be wise to learn which toes not to thread on during his stay regardless. Especially considering the fact that his reason for being in Vvardenfell was a particularly sensitive matter.
While the redguard continued ranting about politics, the ship finally arrived in the small port town. Two deck-hands had been standing in wait with a long wooden plank. As soon as the ship made contact with the pier, they dropped the plank on the pier and jumped ashore. Other deck-hands threw them a pair of thick, heavy ropes, which they attached to the bollards. Before the ship was fully secured to the dock, the guards and the rest of the crew amassed on deck and started disembarking. Evidently, the storm had left its mark on the men and they were keen to get off board. "Well, that's us." The guard captain concluded. Just head straight for that building and talk with the Census and Excise agent inside. He'll take care of the rest." He pointed at the building nearest to the pier. "Take care now, traveller." Iorveth had already collected his belongings from below. He was travelling light. Most of the luggage consisted of some food, some spare sets of clothes, a journal and some basic alchemical tools. He brought enough gold for a couple of weeks worth of lodging and supplies, but he hadn't considered the possibility that he'd be looking for a new sword after his arrival. He'd have to earn some more soon to be able to cover the expenses. He slung the guar-skin pouch that contained his belongings over his shoulder and jumped ashore.