The People of Morrowind

by Magnet-Head

Sarah Ateli is declared the Nerevarine by Lord Vivec and begins the journey of a prophecised hero to Red Mountain.

"Full glad am I that I have met you, Sarah Atelli, and to see that you truly are our Nerevarine returned." Lord Vivec said.

Sarah listened intently, as she had to every word the Tribunal god had spoken since she had entered his chamber, and to hear the title that had been bandied about for weeks now, now realised and acknowledged, from Lord Vivec of all people filled her with both dread and satisfaction. Her long journey to get to this point had not been in vain, but now she had a perilous task ahead of her.

"With our combined force and knowledge, we can put an end to this crisis," Vivec continued and made a fist, "and an end to Dagoth Ur."

"Is there really no other way?" Sarah replied even though she suspected the answer, "He was once your– our ally."

Lord Vivec was silent for a moment. "Look back, Sarah Ateli, and think of all that you have seen on your journey, of all the pain and anguish the Sixth House has caused. The blight diseases, corprus, the plight of the Ashlanders caught in the storms and the people of Morrowind held hostage by their own dreams."

Lord Vivec unmade his fist and returned to his meditative pose, floating serenely above the platform in the centre of his chamber. "If your ally committed such heinous acts, even in retribution to an equal betrayal, would you still consider them your ally?"

Sarah considered the question for a moment, but she could find no easy reply. "If they were truly my ally, then I would commit myself to aid them, even if that aid might be to stop them before they commit further atrocities."

"A fine response, Lord Nerevar," Vivec said as he nodded, "and such loyalty does you credit. I would pray for you that Dagoth Ur takes heed of your intent when you find him."

"As for myself and the Tribunal Temple, we have not made war on the Sixth House and Red Mountain so that we might sit down to talk with Dagoth Ur. An ally he might have been, but an ally he is no longer. It might have stemmed from our betrayal, but he ceased to be so after the battle of Red Mountain. Now he is an enemy of Morrowind, if not all of Tamriel."

"And I am Morrowind's Protector now, aren't I?" Sarah replied.

"You are indeed." Vivec replied.

As she was about to turn and leave, the Tribual god leaned forward and caught her eye. "May I ask you one last question, Sarah Ateli?"

Sarah stepped out into the light of day, blinking her eyes against the midday sun.

"Hear the words of Lord Vivec the Warrior-Poet, One-of-Three of the Tribunal Temple. Hear this proclamation from your god!" shouted the canton priests standing by her right and left. They had enhanced their voices with magic and were addressing the mass of temple functionaries, ordinators and commoners assembled at the feet of the steps leading to the High Fane.

"Lord Vivec, in his grace, has mended the rift between the Temple and the Dissidents, and names Lady Sarah Ateli as Lord Nerevar Reborn, the Moon-and-Star and Protector of Morrowind!" exclaimed the priests and the assembled crowd reacted at first with stunned silence, then incredulous looks at the Breton woman standing in front of their god's own chamber. Finally a call came up from a Dunmer in the crowd, and soon others took it up.

"The Nerevarine Reborn! Lord Nerevar has returned to us!" As they shouted, the faithful raised up their arms and would have charged up the steps of the High Fane if not for the line of Ordinators keeping them at bay.

Sarah's thoughts, as she began to descend the steps, were on her right arm. Wraithguard, one of the three legendary artifacts that she had read about in her travels to complete the Trials of the Nerevarine. The gauntlet was heavy, and Sarah doubted she would even have been able to use it properly when she had first arrived on Vvardenfell. That day felt so long ago now, and yet it had only been a scant four months. It felt surreal, how much her life had changed in that time. From a former criminal to an adventurer, then to a spy and a pilgrim and now, a warrior hero. A crowd of people were chanting her name, or rather who they had been told she were.

"Lord Nerevar! Lord Nerevar!" they chanted as she walked down the steps. Some of the Ordinators in the line glanced back at her, whether to make their own assessment or to give their own praises, she could not be sure.

"Lord Nerevar," one of the Ordinators said with uncertainty, "the crowd could be dangerous."

The title made Sarah smile. "Would the people of Morrowind harm their Nerevarine?" she replied and touched the guard's gauntlet to lower the line. Immediately the crowd swarmed past and surrounded her, touching her face and her armour as she continued on her way. She might have sounded sure to the guard, but she had subtly cast protective magicks on her way down the steps. She felt the lightest tug as an enterprising thief tried for her wallet, only to find it magically locked. 'Your Lord Nerevar Reborn is no fool' she thought with a wry smile. The crowd limited her sight and movement, but eventually she reached the low wall that kept people from falling into the canals. With a deft hop and shouts from the crowd, Sarah cleared the wall and fell towards the waters of the canal. The shouts of fear turned to astonishment as she slowed before alighting on the surface of the water, walking on it as easily as one would on the smoothest flagstones. Magicks for traversing water had proved endlessly useful in her travels in northern Vvardenfell, and now she had found another use; avoiding the crowds of her new, devout followers. The magicks involved were hardly complicated, but even so the commoners that lined the canalside streets above her called out her new name with fervor and proclaimed that, now Morrowind was safe and that soon the devils from the Red Mountain and even the Empire would be driven out, and Morrowind returned to its rightful state. Sarah tried not to think about the second part. As Lord Vivec had requested, she would journey to the Red Mountain and take the fight to the Sixth House and Dagoth Ur himself. Only the Nerevarine could realistically accomplish such a feat, and she would not shy away from it, but she had no wish to fight a war against the rest of Tamriel once Morrowind was finally safe from the House of Dreams.

In time she reached the Foreign Quarter and cast a new spell to propel her upwards, past the low fences and the crowds and onto the upper level and the gates to the Quarter's Plaza.

"Lord Nerevar," a voice cried out from the crowd, somehow more striking than the rest, and Sarah stood on the wall and looked down.

There, among the hordes of unknown faces, was one she recognised. A Dissident Priest, only now allowed to return to the city of her birth. Mehra Milo had risked much to be here this day and the Dissidents must have discovered Sarah's impending meeting with the Archcanon.

"Have you any words for your people!?" Mehra Milo cried out, her voice amplified with magic in the same manner as the High Fane's herald-priests.

Sarah turned to the crowd and relished in the silence for a moment as she thought it over. She would not refuse a request from her friend, especially not in the face of such bravery.

"People of Vivec, indeed of all of Morrowind," Sarah called out and drew her hammer from its holster on her back, "it is as you have heard. I am your Nerevarine, Lord Nerevar and the Moon-and-Star returned." With that, she held up the hand that bore the legendary ring and the enchanted crystal caught the sunlight.

"I am the Nerevarine of the Ashlanders, and the Hortator of your Great Houses. I am your champion and your Protector, and I will go to Red Mountain and release you from the Blight and the ash-storms. Let Dagoth Ur and his ash-minions quiver in fear, for Lord Nerevar has returned and he comes for them!"

She raised the hammer and the crowd exploded, the shouting reaching a painful pitch even from such a height. She raised the hammer a second time and the crowd erupted again. She descended onto the walkway and hurried up the steps to the plaza. Another crowd lined the steps but it was nowhere near as numerous as the one on the canalside streets. The plaza itself was as chaotic as ever, though she could hear that the usual conversations had been forced to the wayside to make way for what was sure to be the topic of conversation for weeks to come.

"Have you heard the news?"

"Lord Nerevar is back!"

"The blight is ending!"

"The Tribunal must have gone mad!"

"Do you doubt the words of Lord Vivec?"

Sarah hurried through the plaza with her hood up, and even though the onlookers that stood at the steps were pointing her out to any that might ask, she was fast on her feet and knew exactly where she was going, even without the sign of the stylised eye. The door to the mages guild was never locked, but even so Sarah was relieved when the door opened and she could shut it behind her. Briefly she contemplated locking it with a spell, but she might well get in trouble with the local members and then the door would just get battered down by the hordes instead. Best she went about her business, and quickly. She returned the greetings sent her way without any fuss and hurried along the upper path of the guild hall till she passed through the door of the guild guide.

"Oh, Lady Ateli, I didn't expect to see you today." Flacassia said and stood up from her table. The energies contained within the teleportation platform sprang to life at a subtle motion from the guide.

"Flacassia, I need a favour from you, and I need it fast." Sarah said and looked over her shoulder as she closed the door. Already the guild hall was filling up with new faces, looking around for their returned hero.

Flacassia smiled uncertainly. "What do you need, O Lord Nerevar?"

"Right, two favours. First, quiet with that title, and second, I need you to keep my travel destinations secret until I say otherwise. Can you do that?"

"Even from Trebonius?"

"Especially from the Arch-Mage. He is maybe the last person I would trust with any secrets." Sarah said and thought back to the Telvanni spy she had uncovered within the very hall just a month prior. The signs had been so obvious, but the Arch-Mage had taken the young Dunmer entirely at his word.

"I don't like keeping secrets from Trebonius, but if you're the one asking, Lord– I mean Sarah."

Sarah smiled. "Good, just don't mention that I was even here, let alone where I went. Now, can you send me to Balmora?"

News travels fast, but not as fast as teleportation. The mages guild in Balmora was business as usual, with no one calling her Lord Nerevar and no one bowing and scraping. Sarah made it to her house without anyone paying her any unusual attention, and for this she was grateful.

The door unlocked and then locked again with magic, Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and put her backpack on the nearest chair and she was about to put her hammer away when she noticed the leftovers on the table; steamed crab with bittergreens and yams sat in bowls alongside a basket of sliced bread. A half-drunk mug of tea sat by a used plate.

"Sarah?" A voice called out from the first floor.

"Dead on, Riannen. How'd you know?"

"I didn't hear a key, so I figured it must've been magic," Riannen said and stepped into view, "Of all the people I know, only you lock your house with magic."

"I know all too well the risks involved in carrying a key." Sarah said with a chuckle and moved her backpack to the floor. While she fetched a plate and ladled crab and greens onto some bread, Riannen sat down and finished her tea. The black-haired Dunmer was wearing a green dress, a stark change from the travel gear that Sarah had seen on her for every day of nearly a year.

"So, what happened on your trip? You said it could be important."

"I went to see members of the Temple in Vivec." Sarah said and took a bite. She had been so apprehensive about her meeting with the Archcanon that she had not had anything to eat all day. As always with Riannen's cooking, the crab was excellent.

"The selfsame temple that considers you and your allies heretics and dissidents?" Riannen said.

Sarah took a moment to enjoy the food before replying. "I met with the Archcanon."

"By the gods, how did you manage that?," Riannen said with a gasp, "he must be protected by a dozen Ordinators."

"I was invited."

"Invited with an arrest order?" Riannen replied and poured another mug of tea.

"Invited by the Archcanon himself, believe it or not," Sarah said and brushed crumbs from her hands, "though judging by the tone of his assistant, the Ordinators were not aware of the invitation. I had to sneak into the priest's chambers."

"I do find it hard to believe, but from you of all people, it's possible."

"Thank you, Riannen, I appreciate it. There will be some news coming out of Vivec City and the High Fane over the next few days, relating to that meeting, but I wanted you to hear it from me." Sarah said and unclasped the heavy gauntlet on her right hand.

Perhaps Riannen had sensed Sarah's tone, for she waited for her to speak.

"I went to see the Archcanon because the Temple wished to arrange a meeting in secret, following the completion of the Fourth and the Fifth Trials."

"A meeting with whom?" Riannen said. She had yet to touch her fresh cup of tea.

"A meeting with the Warrior-Poet himself, Lord Vivec." Sarah said after what felt like an appropriate pause.

"Following the completion of the Trials, Lord Vivec wanted to get the measure of the Incarnate, and so I was summoned in secret to the Archcanon's chambers, where I received a key to Lord Vivec's chambers at the top of the High Fane."

"So you spoke with a living god." Riannen said with awe in her tone.

"I did, yes." Sarah replied and poured herself a mug of tea. All that was left were the dregs, so she waited for the tea leaves to sink to the bottom before taking a sip.

"Since you're sitting here, and not in the Ministry of Truth or an ignoble grave, I take it the meeting went well." Riannen said.

"I think Lord Vivec knew from the start that it would. From the moment I entered I never felt threatened and he steered our conversation expertly."

"And as a result," Sarah said and looked Riannen in the eye, "Lord Vivec has declared me Nerevarine True and Lord Nerevar Reborn. It's official, at least in the eyes of the Tribunal Temple."

Whereas the crowds of Vivec City had been ecstatic at the news, Riannen's expression was somber. "I take it that those are the news that will be coming?"

"Yes, and that the Dissident Priests will be persecuted no longer. The Temple intends to open a dialogue and to forgive all religious criminals."

Riannen nodded and was silent for a moment. "And you? What does this mean for you from now on? I can't say I ever really understood why you stayed on this trail, but I know it wasn't to save the Dissidents."

"Mehra Milo is my friend." Sarah said.

"And you help your friends, as I am well aware, but you would have helped her whether or not she was a Dissident and you a returned hero." Riannen said.

Sarah was silent for a moment, then picked up Wraithguard where it lay on the table. "I received this from Lord Vivec."

Only now did Riannen seem to notice the Dwemer gauntlet. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Wraithguard," Sarah said with appropriate gravitas, "one of the Three Tools of Kagrenac."

Riannen's gaze turned back to Sarah, and the awe slowly gave way to fear. "So you journey to Red Mountain. The Sixth Trial."

Sarah nodded. "It is what the Nerevarine must do."

"But is it what Sarah Ateli wants to do?" Riannen replied.

Sarah sat back with a sigh. It was a question she had asked herself, unsuccessfully, many times since arriving on Vvardenfell. "I wish I knew the complete answer to that question myself."

Riannen surged to her feet with both hands on the table and a furious expression. "Then why are you rushing at the behest of someone else? Lord Nerevar, reborn or not, would never be someone else's lapdog!"

"You know what I think, Riannen?" Sarah began and looked up at her friend.

Riannen said nothing and simply waited for Sarah to continue.

"Before I arrived here on Vvardenfell, I was a petty criminal doing petty things. Even from my jail cell back in Kvatch I was trying to steal pocket change and keys from the guards. No one trusted me, not even myself, and no one would have wept if I had just passed silently in the night."

Sarah picked up her fork from the table and turned it about in her hand. It was of Ashlander make, brought back from the north on one of her exploratory trips for Caius. "Then one day I was taken from my cell and stuck on a ship and sailed to gods-know-where and left on a dock. I was left in that swampy hellhole of Seyda Neen with nothing but the clothes on my back, an addressed letter and a clean slate."

"I almost squandered even that," Sarah thought back with a chuckle, "and when I finally tracked down this Caius Cosades, even he did not trust me. Then, one day as I was out trekking between Balmora and Caldera on one of his mysterious errands, I realised I could just leave. I could take the money he had given me and leave."

"But you didn't." Riannen said. Her expression was expectant now, fury replaced with curiosity.

"Oh I did," Sarah said with a smile, "but I quickly realised that I knew no one, knew little of the region and still no one trusted me. Before the week was out I was back at Caius's house with my tail between my legs. Looking back, I think he realised what had happened straight away, but he never lorded it over me. I was sent back out, this time with no stipend, but I carried out his task. And the next, and the one after that."

Sarah placed the fork back on the table where it belonged. "I had decided to trust Caius, at least as far as him and his house being my safe harbour on Vvardenfell. And lo and behold, he trusted me back. I applied myself to the work, truly, and it paid me back. I met more people who, because of Caius's good word, at least gave me the benefit of the doubt till they knew me better."

Riannen had sat down. "Where are you going with this, Sarah?"

Sarah took a moment to compose her thoughts, for in truth she was not even sure herself. "Vvardenfell gave me a chance to start over, and a kind of life I never knew back on the mainland. A life of danger, sure, but also companions and friends. Here, people care about me and trust me, even before my name became synonymous with an ancient prophecy. The people of Morrowind have given me so much, and repaying all that trust and kindness is the least I can do."

Riannen looked at her for a moment, then sighed. "I suppose that is as close to an answer as we are going to get. I'll prepare my things, we can leave in the morning."

Sarah had dreaded this moment, and had even considered not going home so that she could avoid it. "I am sorry, Riannen, but I have to go alone."

At that, the Dunmer's fury returned in full force. "Is that the bidding of one of those harebrained priests, or is it the order of the Warrior-Poet? You know as well as I that none of your prophecies foretell that Lord Nerevar would be alone."

"I know that, Riannen, and it is not at their request."

"Then what?" Riannen shouted.

Sarah rolled up her sleeve to expose the scar on her right forearm. At the sight of it, Riannen paled and the fury bled from her face.

"Only Lord Nerevar is immune to the Blights and the Corprus that roll down from the Red Mountain, Riannen. I am truly sorry, but I cannot allow you to join me on this."

Riannen had nothing to say to that and looked away, unable to meet Sarah's eyes as tears formed in her eyes. Sarah rose from her seat and went to embrace her in silence.

Sarah stayed the night with Riannen then left at first light. They woke beside each other, but neither spoke as Sarah dressed, shouldered her backpack and left. By this point, word had reached Balmora about her announcement as the true Nerevarine, and anyone that saw her in the street fell to their knees, but Sarah was too preoccupied to notice. She left town through the southern gate without a word, with her backpack and hammer slung over her shoulder. With magicks to enhance her travels, she arrived at Ghostgate three days later.

"All hail Lord Nerevar Reborn!" the captain shouted and signaled to his troops.

"Hail Lord Nerevar!" The troops responded with a forest of raised fists.

"Be at ease," Sarah replied and waved them down, "you all have an important duty and I would not wish for you to forsake it for my sake."

"As you wish, Lord Nerevar," the captain replied, seemingly without having grasped the intent behind her words, "guards, to your posts!"

As the Ordinators rushed to follow the command, Sarah took a moment to admire Ghostgate. She had seen the magical artifact-wall many times before as she had journeyed the length and breadth of Vvardenfell, but only once before had she been so close to it, and that time it had been under much more dangerous circumstances. The red ash-clouds coming down from the volcano were rendered purple when seen through the shimmering blue of the wall. As for the volcano itself, Sarah had watched as it grew larger on the horizon with every step she had taken over the last three days, and knew that it would grow larger still before her journey was over.

The captain had not moved from his spot. "Lord Nerevar, permission to speak."

Sarah could not help but chuckle at the idea of anyone, especially a man of faith, asking her for permission to speak. "Captain, the way I see it, every man, woman and child on this wall is a hero equal to myself. You have my permission, but I do not see it as mine to give."

If the man had any reaction to being called a hero by the object of his faith, he did not show it, but he did remove his helmet. A bald Dunmer with a grim scar across his face looked back at her. "Lord Nerevar, when I received word from Vivec City I ensured that I would have an escort ready for your fight with the Sixth House. I have four of my finest Ordinators ready to come with you."

"I do not accept it."

The captain stood stunned.

"May I ask your name, captain?"

"Tollan Valtameri." the captain replied dully.

"Allow me to clarify, Captain Valtameri. I am grateful for your faith and for your offer of assistance, but I cannot accept it. During your station here, you must have become well aware of the dangers that come from the Red Mountain. I speak not just of daedric devils or ash zombies, but of blights and of corprus."

Sarah paused for a moment. "Captain Valtameri, how many under your command have contracted corprus?"

"Blights can be cured by the Temple, your Lordship, but corprus has no cure, as you well know. Any that show its symptoms are sent back south and replaced."

"How many." The question was simple, but she did not mask her tone.

"Twenty-two, in the five years I have been stationed here," the captain replied, then cleared his throat before continuing, "I received the posting because the previous captain was afflicted with corprus and similarly replaced. Last I heard, Captain Sensarra was admitted to the Corprusarium."

Sarah wondered briefly if she had inadvertently met this Captain Sensarra during her visit to the Corprusarium. "That is why I cannot accept the help of your soldiers, Captain Valtameri. If even one more citizen of Morrowind is afflicted with the Divine Disease because of me, then I will have failed as Protector of Morrowind."

"But Lord Nerevar," the captain protested, "Red Mountain is extremely dangerous. As you said, the ash-storms bring not just diseases, but also droves of monsters. Ash-zombies, crazed dreamers and daedrics beyond count. A single soldier–"

"Do you liken your Lord Nerevar Reborn to a single soldier, captain?" Sarah replied, amazed at how easily she had taken a tone of authority.

Captain Valtameri cast his gaze to the ground. "My deepest apologies, Lord Nerevar, I did not mean to cast doubt on your abilities. I just worry that Red Mountain would prove too much for anyone on their own. Anyone."

Sarah stepped forward and put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Fear not, Captain Valtameri. If I truly am your Nerevarine, then it is prophesied. I will conquer Red Mountain, but I must do so alone."

"It is as you say, Lord Nerevar." Captain Valtameri replied in a stoic tone.

"However, there is one aspect you might help me with." Sarah continued and put her backpack on the ground.

"Your word is our command, Lord Nerevar." The captain replied gladly.

Sarah opened the flap of her backpack and retrieved one of the items inside.

"An Indoril helmet." the captain said.

"A gift from the Temple," Sarah delivered the white lie effortlessly, "upon my recognition as the Nerevarine. I intend to wear it during my fight in Red Mountain, but I cannot don it on my own."

In truth, she had found the armour in a terrible condition in an ash-filled ditch outside a Sixth House compound and had restored it herself. She had worn it on plenty of occasions since and had developed magicks to be able to don it herself, but the captain had seemed so earnest in his offer of help, the thought had presented itself.

The captain took her to the base's armoury and, together with another soldier, helped her with the ornate Indoril armour. Neither the captain nor the soldier spoke a word as they strapped and fitted each piece of armour in a ceremonial process. Only the magical Wraithguard bracelet did she fit herself. Only when every piece was fit to her satisfaction did she don the helmet and reholster her backpack, full as it was with the potions she had prepared on the road to Ghostgate. As she crossed the threshold of the Ghostwall and entered Red Mountain, every soldier in Ghostgate watched her go. The only exception was Captain Tollan Valtameri, who had excused himself to his quarters.

She removed the stifling helmet as soon as she was out of sight of the Ghostgate garrison. She kept it close as she began her ascent of the forbidding mountain, using magicks to scout ahead for parties of the Sixth House or native creatures. More than once she had to slip into a ravine or shattered ditch to avoid a patrol and then scamper back onto the path to continue. Some of those patrols might well have been heading to attack the Ghostgate, but she could not stop every single Sixth House cultist. The best thing she could do for them would be to stop it at the source, and for that she would need tools. Both the texts and Lord Vivec had told her about the Tools of Kagrenac and their approximate hiding places. Dwemer and Sixth House strongholds, and she would have to conquer them alone.

As the sun began to set on her first day within the wall, she could see the mechanical spires of a Dwemer ruin to her east and she made camp on a cliff high above, where only the tenacious cliff racers could reach her. With her thoughts on Riannen, Sarah had a light sleep that was interrupted before dawn by a rumbling that ran through the region. The plume of smoke rising from Red Mountain itself was ample clues to its origin, and Sarah took her camp down and descended into the Dwemer ruin. Time and the harsh conditions of Red Mountain had been harsh on the exterior of the ruin, but she found the opening lever soon enough and was gratified when the mechanism in the doorway was still functioning. When she was satisfied that no cultists or automatons arrived to examine the commotion, she stepped through the door and into the ruins.

Beyond the door she found a wide ramp, sparsely lit by fixtures set into the walls. They must have been centuries old but still they gave their pale glow. With a hand on her hammer to keep it from rustling she continued downwards by keeping close to the wall. The fixtures were angled so that their light primarily fell on the centre of the ramp and so the walls were shadowed and safest. An hour passed before she saw any movement within the halls, and even then it was only a single dwemer automaton slowly dragging itself along a side passage. One hand held a bundle of worn books while the other dragged along the floor, trying to gain purchase to pull the automaton along, for some time in the past its roller-sphere must have seized up. Whatever it was doing, it had been at it for long enough to grind a groove in the stone floor. Sarah snuck away and left the machine to its lonely work. If it saw her it would only move to attack in order to defend the defunct facility, and Sarah had no desire to destroy such a piteous thing.

The ramp terminated, after what felt like hours of walking, in a grand hall, supported by pillars decorated with stern Dwemer faces and hissing pipes. The ceiling was tall enough that it was beyond that reach of any light from floor level, and Sarah could only glimpse hints of a network of pipes and valves, their true function likely lost forever along with its Dwemer creators. The open spaces between the pillars unnerved Sarah, but even so she continued to be as alone as she had been during her descent. The darkness and space pressed down on her and flared her anxieties, but they never materialised. It seemed that the Dwemer ruin was as abandoned as it appeared, even for the Sixth House and its horrors.

Towards the centre of the chamber she saw four pillars that were markedly different from the rest. Gone were the decorations that adorned the rest; these were clearly functional, even if the function was beyond Sarah. Pipes struck out from each pillar into a central dias that rose above ground level. Pushing down her fears, Sarah ascended towards the dias on steps hammered from solid brass until she stood at the top and beheld what the pipes were supplying.

The centre of the dias had been built with concentric circles of varying materials, culminating in a gold ring around a relic set into the floor. The pipes coursed with a faint vibration that grew in strength as Sarah approached the relic. She had not seen it illustrated and Lord Vivec had only given her the most cursory of explanations, but from its appearance and reverence alone, she could guess that this must be Keening, one of the three Tools alongside Wraithguard and the Sunder she had yet to find. At her approach, the gold ring lifted soundlessly off the ground and brought the hilt of the magical dagger to her level, but she found herself hesitating as she reached for it. This was one of the tools vital for the downfall of Dagoth Ur, and his forces had been in control of Red Mountain for over four centuries. Surely claiming one of the Tools could not be this easy. Sarah retreated and took cover behind one of the vibrating pillars, casting all the magicks she could think of to unveil the ambush she was sure existed, but nothing presented itself. Even to her magically enhanced senses, the grand hall was empty. No monsters hid among the pipes in the ceiling. No cultists waited with baited breath among the forest of pillars. No enchantments had been woven into the warding on the dagger, nor hidden underneath the metallic rings that made up the dias. It took a long time for Sarah to accept that she could see no danger, but eventually she did. With deep breaths she calmed herself and rose from her hiding place to approach the dagger yet again. Again the gold ring rose to bring the hilt to her, and this time she reached forwards to grasp it. For a moment she felt the deadly enchantments that Lord Vivec had spoken of, but even as she felt them coursing through her arm and towards her heart, Wraithguard surged with a coldness that bordered on painful, and Keening calmed itself.

A cacophony pulled Sarah from her sensations and she looked up to see that she had been mistaken in her assessment and correct in her assumption. There had been an ambush waiting, but it had not been magical in nature and unrelated to the Sixth House. All along the walls of the grand hall, dwemer soldier-spheres were disgorging from pipes in the walls and converging on the dias. Before she had even gathered her wits, a dozen spheres had entered the hall and a dozen more were rumbling through the pipes to join them.

Securing her grip on the hilt of the dagger, Sarah spun back the way she had come and took off running, bounding down the steps four at a time. She had fought soldier-spheres many times before, but fighting so many was suicide. With a long leap she hit the floor of the hall running and, with a spell to boost her speed, made for the ramp and the only way she knew for sure. Already the hall was filled with the spheres and the sound of their motion and the hissing of their pistons. As the horde gathered behind her, two of the spheres moved to position themselves at the ramp to cut her off, their brass blades at the ready. With a smooth motion borne of long experience, Sarah drew the battle hammer from her back and stashed Keening in her belt.

The spheres spun away and around to attack Sarah from both sides but their blades only met the haft of her hammer as she forced their momentum away and retaliated, severing one of their sword-arms with a decisive blow on the joint. The sphere-soldier charged forwards to bowl Sarah over, but she weaved aside and blocked a strike from its fellow. Even as she fought the construct, she was well aware of the horde of spheres closing in. She had to hurry. She swung wide with one hand on her hammer and made a sign with the other, casting a bolt of lightning as powerful as she could make it in a flash. The sphere rocked back and jerked before falling to stillness. The injured sphere charged past her again, nearly slamming her to the ground before she rolled back to her feet and ran for the ramp. The hall was full to bursting with the cacophony from the charging constructs and Sarah wanted nothing more than to clamp her hands over her ears. Up the ramp she charged, and the horde followed. The memory of her hour-long trek down the ramp weighed heavily on her as she began her rapid ascent. She would have to run for half an hour at least, with the untiring constructs in hot pursuit. They would not slow, nor tire, and she could not even say for sure whether they would stop in their pursuit at the threshold to the complex, but once there she might be able to escape with magicks back to her last campsite. With that thought, she ran. The ramp's incline was brutal and the sphere-soldiers behind her did not slacken in the slightest. When she was convinced she could not take another step, her thoughts turned to all the perilous situations she had gone through with Riannen. So many times had they thought it was all over, and yet they were both still here. With the thought that Riannen was waiting for her, Sarah continued up the ramp without even a glance backwards. She pushed and pushed, and eventually a shaft of light could be seen up ahead, shining through the entrance she had passed only a few hours earlier. As soon as she was in the open air, she drew as deep a breath as she could and shouted the incantation for levitation. With aching lungs and throbbing feet she soared up and away to collapse in a narrow space between two brass towers. There she stayed for most of an hour, in part to ensure that none of the constructs would find her, but also because her body refused to continue.

With an effort, she drew Keening from where she had stashed it, quietly thankful that it had not tumbled out in her rush to escape. The hilt was intricate, a mixture of brass structure and golden decoration resplendent with Dwemer runes that she could not decipher. The blade seemed much simpler but she could not recognise the material; it was light blue in colour with a faint luminosity that required no sunlight. Its pale radiance seemed to calm her against the omnipresent red ash-storm that blanketed the region. Without Wraithguard to protect her, the blade would surely have killed her the moment she touched it, and she dreaded to think that Dagoth Ur, albeit briefly, had wielded both Keening and Sunder without the gauntlet's protection. The power inherent in that feat was frightening, but she could not let herself be dissuaded.

As soon as she was certain of her relative safety, she returned to the campsite from the night before and rested the rest of the day. She had a good idea of where she needed to go now, judging by the position of the Dwemer ruin. That night, she had a dream. A horde of people stood on a plain, watching her in expectant silence. Foremost among them, standing by themselves in front of all others, were two women, Riannen and Azura. A mortal and a goddess.

The following day, Sarah continued southeast, following directions given by the Tribunal as to the location of Sunder. The Sixth House complex was easy to find; a squat building set into the mountainside as if carved from the dark stone of Red Mountain. But in contrast to the Dwemer ruin, this place was not abandoned. The main entrance alone had four sentries armed with spears and bows, as well as near a dozen ash-zombies that lingered around the area. Sarah had no wish to tangle with so many opponents and so waited for darkness to fall again. The ash-storms impeded the rays of the sun, and so she did not have to wait long. As the sunlight began to fade, the mountain beneath her feet rumbled and belched forth a fresh storm that blanketed the region in pitch darkness and howling winds. They buffeted her and blinded her, but the sentries were all equally affected, and so they did not notice the armoured stranger slip past one of the rear guards and into the complex.

Once inside, Sarah saw little opposition. The hallways were narrow but lit only with plinths carrying crimson lanterns that cast precious little light. With magically enhanced hearing to forewarn her of anyone walking the halls, Sarah continued deeper and deeper into the compound. The interior descended quickly into the bowels of the mountain. At first it was all functional; barracks and stockrooms for the Sixth House's soldiers, forges built above lava-pools to stock their armouries. But that lessened as she descended. Circular rooms full of dream-addled cultists, swaying to some rhythm only they could feel. Shrines built below bells of dark iron.

Eventually she stepped into a vast hall with a tall ceiling supported by a forest of pillars, each carved with the runes of the Sixth House. Even as she set foot in the space, she could feel that she was not far from her goal.

"Welcome to Vemynal." a voice called out from somewhere in the space.

Sarah drew her hammer in a flash and put her back to a wall. "Who speaks?"

A figure stepped from the shadows. Tall and powerful, the figure had ash-grey skin and a golden diadem atop its balding head, its lips set in a sardonic smile that looked perfectly natural on its face.

"Dagoth Vemyn, servant to the Lord of House Dagoth, may it please you." The figure bowed.

Sarah grimaced. This Vemyn must be one of Dagoth's ash-vampires; powerful creatures molded by the power Dagoth had gleaned from the Heart of Lorkhan. If he protected Sunder, she would have no choice but to defeat him.

The ash-vampire continued, as if in spite of her silence. "Ah, but enough about me and who I serve. I cannot help but notice that you, our honoured guest, have yet to introduce yourself. That must not be; one cannot go nameless in the halls of the Sixth House."

Sarah pondered it for a moment, but what harm could there be in answering him? Surely he would not let any unknown wanderer stray into a hall such as this, and so the vampire must already have some idea of who she was.

Holding her hammer at her side, she took a step forward and stood straight. "Sarah Ateli, recognised by the Tribunal as the Nerevarine."

"I am Lord Nerevar reborn."

The ash-vampire laughed. The guttural sound echoed off the walls and pillars of the space, but no sentries or cultists came running at the sound.

"The Tribunal, what fools," Vemyn said with a grin, "are they so desperate that now they send hopefuls to rummage through our halls, or have they underestimated us so?"

"So what, Lord Nerevar," the title was said with as much venom as Sarah had ever heard uttered, "does the Tribunal hope to find here, in Vemynal?"

"Is the Sixth House truly so foolish that they would not know?" Sarah replied and drew Keening from her belt. The blue radiance was striking in the gloom that permeated the hall.

Vemyn's sardonic smile fell into a grimace.

Sarah shifted her grip on her hammer to closer to the head. "I have come for Sunder."

The ash-vampire glared at her for a moment, then laughed. Sarah was unphased.

"I must admit," Vemyn began and made ready to cast a spell, "at first I thought to let you go back to the surface, that I could not bear to kill such a child as you. But if you already carry Keening, then you could be a threat."

Sarah stashed Keening away and made her own spell ready. "You can be sure of that, ash-monster."

With a snarl, Vemyn thrust his hands forward and completed the spell. Immediately the gloom in the pillared hall deepened and Sarah cast her own, planting a source of light at her own feet that pushed the darkness away but not as much as she had hoped. But it was enough to see the outline of the vampire rushing at her from the left with his vampiric claws ready at his sides. Gone was the impressive physique, replaced with a monster's appearance and blood-red eyes. She countered his rush then continued the assault when he ducked around her. He formed another spell but the blast of fire only hit a conjured shield, the warding breaking when Sarah charged from behind it with such speed that Vemyn couldn't move away in time and the head of the warhammer slammed onto his shoulder with a crack. The vampire hissed and ducked away into the darkness.

"Perhaps you really are Lord Nerevar reborn, I give you that." the vampire said from the darkness, the spell masking the source of his voice.

"I'm here for the hammer, Vemyn. You can walk away from this." Sarah said as she rushed to get her back to the wall again, noticing that her own light spell was already fading. Probably another effect of Vemyn's spell.

"Lord Dagoth charged me with its safekeeping, child, and I will carry out his orders, even in my final death." the darkness responded.

"A shame." was all Sarah could say. The darkness was pressing in on her as her light faded, and she dared not cast another; Vemyn could well rush her as she was casting.

"A shame indeed that Morrowind finally has its saviour, and that she then dies in some light-forsaken hole." Vemyn replied. A point of light appeared in the darkness, but there was no solace to find there, for Sarah recognised the spell as an attack. She dove to the side as the lightning-bolt slammed into the wall where she had been standing, ignoring the shower of stone chips. On landing she thrust her hand out and showered the rushing vampire in fire and sprang to her feet as he staggered backwards. Even as Vemyn staggered back towards the darkness, Sarah charged with her hammer again and a series of strikes flew towards the vampire, the final one striking him in the stomach. He grunted but pushed forward to rake his claws towards Sarah's face. One claw scored across her chestplate and the other caught the lip of her helmet, jerking it up and away. Rather than attempt to dodge away, Sarah stepped into his charge and slammed her forehead onto his nose. A liquid splashed onto the vampire's face but he simply snarled and grabbed Sarah by the shoulders and the hands.

"No escaping this time." Vemyn said, spitting the liquid from his broken nose.

"Too true, vampire." Sarah said and released the spell she had cast while the vampire had been charging at her. A thunderclap tore through both of them, throwing Sarah back against the wall and Vemyn into a pillar with enough force to crack the stonework. Sarah gasped as the air was blasted from her lungs, but even in her dazed state it was obvious that Vemyn had fared far worse; the vampire was struggling to raise himself onto his arms and had yet to utter a sound. With an effort of will, Sarah took a deep breath and raised her hammer. Vemyn glared at her and she repaid his glare with a single blow from her hammer that shattered his skull. Even when the vampire did not get back up, she kept herself ready for battle. Only when his form began to dissolve into ash did she let up and collapse to the floor, gasping for breath and barely able to hold on to her hammer. It took a few moments with a healing spell before she could stand again and breathe painlessly. The thunderclap had been a gamble, and she could not say if the rest of the compound had heard it. She needed to find Sunder, and fast. But even as the thought formed, Vemyn's form collapsed completely, revealing an intricate smithing hammer on the floor. She knew it was Sunder even before Wraithguard countered the killing enchantment. Now she needed to escape but already she could hear movements in the halls above. The sounds of booted feet, of shouted commands. She took stock of her belongings and her spells then began to ascend up through the complex, ready for battle. But no guards met her. The sounds of readiness continued, but they seemed further ahead than before, and so it continued as she continued her ascent until she was past the dreaming halls and shrines. There she heard more sounds; sounds of battle. The compound was under attack.

Her first sight of the battle above was a group of cultists pressed in on a squadron of Ordinators holding a shield-wall in a narrow corridor. They were outnumbered but with superior tactics and equipment they were holding the line, for now. Sarah came upon their opponents from behind and cleared the throng with a ball of fire. As the rabble broke, the Ordinators fell upon them and the cultists were dispatched in short order.

With her hammer still in her hands, Sarah approached the nearest Ordinator. "What is going on at the surface?"

The Ordinator saluted and the rest followed even though they were weary from the battle. "Hail Lord Nerevar. The Temple is striking at its enemies, and we are the tip of the spear."

"Red Mountain is too dangerous, you have to retreat." Sarah said and pushed past them. She would have to find their commander.

"The Captain said you would say that, Lord Nerevar. Regardless, we are here to fight." the Ordinator replied and called for the others of his squad to form up.

"The captain?," Sarah said and began to realise, "don't tell me."

"The way to the surface is clear, Lord Nerevar. Go, we will hold the monsters here." The Ordinator said and marched off with his comrades.

The man told the truth; scenes of battle were everywhere within the compound. Piles of cultists unceremoniously abandoned where they had fallen. Stockrooms set ablaze. Forges toppled into the magma that had powered them. A single sentry lay a foot from an alarm bell, the hammer still held in her severed hand. As Sarah approached the gatehouse and the surface, the sounds of fighting intensified. A pitched battle was raging as ordered regiments of Ordinators from Ghostgate fought the masses of Sixth House members while Armigers harried their flanks and struck at the flying monsters coming down from the mountains. On the whole it seemed to Sarah that the Temple forces had the advantage, but she could see individual soldiers collapsing with fits of coughing or foaming from the mouth as the very air they breathed carried the Blight-inducing ash from Red Mountain, and House Dagoth numbered more than simple mortal soldiers amongst its ranks. Ascended cultists, their bodies horrifically mutated by their service to Lord Dagoth, were wreaking havoc with their cruel magic as the few priests brought from Ghostgate could not contain them. She could not predict who would win but she also had no intention of waiting for the end result. Hefting her hammer, Sarah charged at the nearest cluster of cultists. Their leader, a cultist with a head like an agitated dreugh, chuckled as it struck a group of Ordinators with bolts of lightning. A priest tried in vain to protect them, but his magical shield broke in the blink of an eye. The soldiers staggered under the magical assault and were nearly wiped out when a group of armed cultists charged them. The leader's next spell would have ended it there and then, if not a bell-hammer had struck its magical shield like a drum.

It staggered forwards and turned with a prepared attack spell, but Sarah was ready. Even as the energies left its hand, they were dispelled into nothing and its shield followed suit with a resounding crack. It raised its hand to renew it, but it was too slow. Sarah ran under its guard and broke its ribcage with a single blow from her bell-hammer and finished it off with a two-handed blow to its skull. The cultists attacking the Ordinators must have sensed or heard the fall of their leader, for they turned as one and abandoned the stricken Ordinators. But without magical protection, Sarah dispatched them with a stream of flame from her outstretched hands. The smell was revolting, but the ash-storm masked the worst of it.

"Where is your captain?" Sarah called out as she approached the Ordinators. She could not help but do a quick inventory of their status; they were wounded, but they would live. The priest assigned to them was already at work.

One of them, a cloak of office hung over his shoulder, pointed at the centre of their battle line. "Captain Valtameri is leading the troops, Lord Nerevar. We will leave none of the curs alive."

But Sarah was already leaving, heading for where the soldier had indicated. She found him quickly; Captain Tollan Valtameri's armour was gleaming despite the ash-storm, and a pennant of House Indoril flew from a pole affixed to the back of his armour.

"Captain Valtameri!" Sarah called out as she approached.

The good captain directed a squad of Ordinators to a spot on the battle line, then turned in her direction. All she could see of him through his armour were his eyes, and he seemed elated. He reached up and removed his helmet.

"Lord Nerevar! What a blessing to see you here!" Tollan replied and turned to his soldiers with a battle cry. "Lord Nerevar is with us! Fight, men!"

The soldiers replied with one voice even as they fought for their lives.

Sarah stood stunned for a moment, but roused herself. "Captain, I told you to stay at Ghostgate. Your men will only die here, whether by blade or by Blight."

"It is true, Lord Nerevar, you did indeed say that," Tollan said with a grin, "but the men would not let you fight alone, so I was forced to disobey your orders."

"You are all fools." Sarah replied, but there was no venom in her voice and she could not keep a grin from her own face.

The captain smiled and put his helmet back on. The pennant of House Indoril straightened in a gust of wind.

"I can't stay and fight with you, Captain." Sarah said and stashed her hammer away.

"I understand, Lord Nerevar, and I would never demand it of you. Go, fight a god. All I ask is that you let us render our aid."

Sarah made a fist and banged the chestplate of her own indoril armour. "Captain, you have already said you would not listen if I said no."

"Indeed!" the captain replied with a laugh, then turned to his troops. "Lord Nerevar goes to end this war! Men, send her off!"

"Lord Nerevar! Lord Nerevar!" the soldiers called out and the cultists fell back a step from their fervour.

Sarah smiled and said no more. With a spell to enhance her speed, she ran from the battle and towards Red Mountain. She did not look back as the sounds of battle dimmed from the distance.

The last member of the Sixth House patrol fell to the ground. Sarah knelt down and waited to see if any other patrols or monsters were headed her way, but the coast seemed clear to the caldera. More Dwemer towers rose from the caldera of Red Mountain and for a moment she thought that the fortress of Dagoth Ur had sunk into the magma within Red Mountain, but the entrance had only momentarily been hidden by a cloud of gas from the volcano. The way down to the entrance provided her with no problems or opposition and the mechanism to open the way had clearly been better maintained than the first ruin she had found. But even so, she found no sentries. No members of House Dagoth stood watch in their final stronghold. She wondered if they had been drawn to the battle at Vemynal, but the battle could not be seen or heard from the fortress. Furthermore, the conflict to come would take all of her focus, and she could not afford being distracted by worries. She would have to trust that Captain Valtameri would hold the line.

The stronghold of Dagoth Ur was a grand monument to the Sixth House and to the Battle of Red Mountain, with near every wall bearing a fresco or mosaic that depicted the glory of House Dagoth as it had been in the First Age. None of the information presented there was new to Sarah, though the spin was the opposite of what she had become accustomed to. Here, House Dagoth had led the charge in that climactic battle, and Dagoth Ur himself laid betrayed beneath the daggers of Lord Nerevar and the Tribunal, only to later return, revived and strengthened to the status of a god. At a wave of his hand, the Sixth House was restored to prominence and its enemies reduced to volcanic ash. In the deep below, she could hear enormous bells. Every toll sent shivers down her spine. Her uncertainty made time stretch beyond reason, and soon it felt like she had been in the guts of the fortress for hours. And yet she had seen no danger. No sentries guarded the corridors and no monsters were loose in the halls, but even so she could not imagine that the fortress had been completely abandoned.

Between two sets of stairs was the final fresco of the complex. Dagoth Ur stood above his legion of servants and monsters, the crowd of godhood above his head. In this fresco, he was raised above even the Tribunal, supplicant in defeat at his feet, and Azura herself, the Daedric goddess in fetters at his side. The Heart of Lorkhan was depicted below Dagoth Ur, clearly depicted as a factor in House Dagoth but not as the sole reason for its ascendance. Sarah looked at it for a moment, then proceeded down the stairs. Here the complex ended and left behind the black stone of the magma caverns beneath Red Mountain. A bell hung in a shaft above as it tolled endlessly. A corridor led to a black stone door, ringed on either side by steaming shrines to House Dagoth.

But Sarah saw only the figure at the centre of the corridor.

"Hail, Lord Nerevar. I would say it is good to see you again, but I would be lying, and a god never lies." said the figure in the gold mask.

"Dagoth Ur." Sarah Ateli, Nerevarine True, said.

Dagoth Ur stood alone in the corridor, lank black hair flowing down his shoulders behind his gold mask, the mask depicting a three-eyed creature with a mouth frozen in an expression of scorn. His physique implied a wiry strength, but Sarah knew that appearances would tell her nothing with a creature like Dagoth Ur. Even without power from an artifact like the Heart, a survivor from the First Age would be a dangerous opponent.

"I had intended to ask if you truly were my Lord Nerevar reborn, but it seems a single look suffices. I see the essence of him about you. A natural charisma, a leader of men, a mighty warrior and the ring of Moon-and-Star upon your finger. That leaves no room for doubt."

"I would then continue to my second question, O Lord Nerevar," Dagoth Ur continued, "in the unlikely event you were to best me and gain the Heart for yourself, what would you intend with its power?"

Sarah stood stunned for a moment, for she had never considered the possibility. "I would quell Red Mountain and eliminate the diseases you spread throughout Vvardenfell. Then I would send the Heart away to somewhere where it could never be used again."

It could never be that simple, she thought in silence, the Empire would never believe I could throw a power like that away, and the threat of the Heart could keep the Empire at bay just as likely as it could embolden the fires of war. The risks of its mere existence are far too great.

Dagoth Ur laughed, a cruel sound that echoed off the walls of the cavern and set the bell a-tolling again. "Send the Heart away!? What nonsense! What foolish, naive, mortal nonsense. I see now that you could never be my Lord Nerevar, for he would never discard such power."

"Do you not see, Incarnate? The Heart can fulfil any desire, any wish. With a wave of my hand, I could raise an eternal spire to my glory, a spire that would pierce the heavens themselves. I could sink all of Vvardenfell beneath the waves. I could erase that upstart Empire from the surface of Nirn and install any mindless pawn of my choosing as ruler of all of Tamriel. The Heart contains that power."

"Only a fool would discard such potential."

"Then why have you not done so? You speak of these things, but all you have done with it is wage a war that you claim you could have done as easily as you might swat a fly.

Dagoth Ur's mask hid all expression, but from the tone of his voice it was clear that he was smiling. "Revenge comes before ambition, my naive mortal, and this particular dish has been brewing for nigh 400 years. But fear not, for the sampling is nearly upon us."

Dagoth Ur held out his hand, a grey and withered claw. "But there is still time, naive mortal. Divine retribution will be met out to the false gods of the Tribunal, but you need not fall in their wake. False Incarnate you might be, but you are a champion true, and you would bolster the ranks of House Dagoth for the wars to come. I would invite you to join me at my side, and you need not worry about deception–."

"For gods do not lie." Sarah replied.

Again Sarah felt like Dagoth Ur hid a smile behind his golden visage. "Just so, naive mortal. Of course, you would need to surrender the Tools. As a show of faith and obeisance."

Sarah looked down at Keening and Sunder in her belt and drew the Tools. Again she felt the pulsing of their enchantments stopped by Wraithguard. The power she felt in them was unlike any she had felt in any artifact in her life, only rivalled by the presence of Lord Vivec himself. Dagoth Ur had the same presence, but whereas Vivec had felt friendly and welcoming, Dagoth's presence was stifling, rotten.

"Even without the Tools, Dagoth," Sarah said and looked straight at the eyes of the gold-mask, "I would never follow you. I can assure you of that, and I need not appeal to any godhood on my part."

Dagoth Ur nodded slowly and seemed not to be surprised in the least. "A pity, that. The glory that could have been yours would have been the stuff of legends."

"A pity, that," Sarah echoed, "I'll have to make my legend without divine aid."

"Come, then," Dagoth Ur replied and dropped his guard, "as the challenger you may have the first strike."

The offer seemed too good to be true to Sarah, even from a god that would tell no lies, but still she intended to take the bait. She chanted a spell and charged. The spell was speedy in all respects; fast to cast and fast to use. She crossed the distance to the grey-skinned figure in the blink of an eye and swung her hammer at the centre of the golden mask.

Only to see her hammer pass through Dagoth Ur as if he wasn't there. The flash of energy at her feet was all the warning she got and she only escaped the blast because of the burst of speed from her spell, diving to her right even as the energies in the trap began to expand. The illusion of Dagoth Ur laughed as it dissipated on the blast wave from the explosive rune. The sound of rope snapping above her alerted her to a secondary effect of the trap; the bell of solid iron above her was breaking its supports and crashing down on top of her. She surged to her feet and leapt again, knocking the air from her lungs as she slammed into the wall. The bell crashed into the stone floor behind it and sent out a single blast of sound that almost deafened her. She lay on the ground for a moment and took in gasping breaths before she rolled onto her back and got to her feet. Her legs were shaking and she was still short of breath, but she could find no injuries.

Despite the near-death experience, she felt heartened. If Dagoth Ur truly was a god capable of changing the world at a whim, then why would he bother with such common attempts to stop her? Why even attempt to stop her in the first place? She looked down at her belt. The answer was simple; she carried the Tools of Kagrenac, and with them she could silence the Heart and deprive Dagoth of his source of power. Regardless of his lofty claims, Dagoth Ur needed desperately to stop her. She allowed herself a smile as she decided that victory was a possibility. When she had steadied herself, she took a deep breath and pushed open the door of black stone and was assaulted by a wave of heat.

The chamber beyond was vast. Quite possibly the largest that Sarah had ever seen. A sea of magma bubbled and steamed below rows of platforms that sat just a few meters above the molten rock. In the ceiling, dwemer smokestacks alleviated the toxic fumes pulsing from the lava. In the centre of the cavern was a humanoid figure the size of a mountain. With flesh of rock and sinew of stone that all covered bones of purest marble, the golem towered above all and Sarah could not help but wonder how it could fit inside a volcano. Even as she stood in awe of its sheer scale, the pale orbs that served as the beings eyes turned in their sockets and looked at her. It took all Sarah had not to turn tail at that moment and run. A moment longer and it was clear that was all the movement the titan was capable of as its body was not complete. A tremor ran through the chamber and bubbles the size of houses burst on the surface of the magma. It was clear to Sarah that the volcano was in a dangerous state.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

Dagoth Ur stood at the edge of a platform ahead of her and was gazing up at the construct, utterly uncaring of the natural forces gathering below his feet. Near a dozen Sixth House soldiers stood alongside him on the platform with their weapons at the ready, looking at her.

"And ironic," Dagoth Ur continued and turned towards her, "that a second Numidium should be used to do battle against the Empire's armies, when it was just such a divine construct that allowed those selfsame armies to find victory in the first place."

"Is this what you have been doing with the heart? Building a big machine?" Sarah said as she scanned the chamber. Platforms lined the walls in a wide circle until they terminated at a bridge that spanned out over the magma sea to a spot on the titan. Another tremor swept the chamber.

Dagoth Ur laughed again. "It is not simply a 'big machine', False Incarnate. Akulakhan will be the forefront of my armies. It will be the locus of a theocracy I shall spread across all of Tamriel, nay, all of Nirn itself. My armies will be unstoppable."

"I thought," Sarah began and did not hide her scorn, "that the god of Dagoth Ur could, with the Heart, sweep all before him with but a wave of the hand. Why, then, would a god require such a massive engine of war?"

She continued before he could speak. "It seems to me that the powers of this self-proclaimed god are not as great as I was told."

"If you so wish to rush to your grave, False Incarnate, then so be it." Dagoth Ur replied with a snarl and turned to the soldiers at his side.

"Kill her."

The soldiers replied with a battle cry in monstrous voices and drew their weapons. Sarah acted first with a spell that threw a bolt of lightning at the closest soldier and followed behind with her hammer even before it struck. The soldier spasmed from the power of the spell and fell to the ground without a sound when the surging energy of the spell cascaded through the squad to strike at the soldier's closest comrades. One was so stunned that he could not raise his shield to defend against Sarah's hammer as it slammed into his head. The remaining soldiers gathered themselves and attacked but they could not meaningfully attack her as she whirled with spell and hammer to defend herself. But likewise, she could not meaningfully strike back. Any attempt to fell any of the soldiers was met with a swift counterattack from his fellows. The conditions of the magma-sea below were worsening with every moment. She knew that talking to the cultists would be meaningless.

"Dagoth Ur! Have you been so blinded by the Heart that you cannot see the catastrophe ahead of you!? Red Mountain is on the verge of exploding!"

Again the golden-masked god laughed. "A god would not be harmed with such paltry means, and the Heart of Lorkhan doubly so. I have nothing to fear, False Incarnate, but you cannot say the same."

"The Heart," Sarah thought, "that's right, I didn't come here to defeat Dagoth Ur himself."

"I came to stop the Heart."

Sarah pushed her way through the fighting till her back was to the edge of the platform and she unleashed the same spell that she had used against Vemyn. The thunderclap was so powerful it nearly broke the ground underneath her feet, and the soldiers were all knocked away, some onto their backs. Dagoth Ur simply stood at the side, watching with a cruel smile evident underneath the mask. It would have been a grand time for Sarah to strike, but she had other intentions. She spun around and looked out over the manga to where the bridge connected with the titan. There, ensconced within the titan's growing chest, was a pumping organ that hung from an arch of some dark, gleaming metal. Even without any magic to enhance her sight, the raw power that emanated from the Heart of Lorkhan was clear.

Dagoth must have realised her intention for he reached for her with his claws but he was too slow. Sarah leapt over the edge of the platform and readied a spell to slow her fall, casting it at the last moment before she landed at the end of the bridge. She glanced behind her and saw Dagoth Ur ascending into the air above her and the Sixth House soldiers about the chamber charging towards the bridge. She left her hammer on the bridge and drew Sunder and Keening and made for the Heart. In a few steps she stood before it and she could hear Dagoth Ur's enraged shouting behind her.

"Cease, Nerevarine, you know not what you toy with!"

"Oh, so I'm no longer a False Incarnate!?" Sarah replied and swung Sunder at the Heart. The hammer impacted on the barrier and shattered it like thin glass with a crack that echoed throughout the chamber and stirred up the magma. A tremor stronger than any before rolled through the chamber and knocked everyone, even Sarah, to their feet. A wave of magma swept over the far end of the bridge and dragged a pair of screaming cultists over the side. Stalagtites shattered and rained down on the cavern, one landing but a food from Sarah. Without its protective barrier, the Heart shone brighter than before and it seemed to Sarah that its presence scorched her skin.

She heard a crackle behind her and a bolt of lightning struck her right hand. She gasped with pain and let go of Sunder, the smithing hammer falling to the floor with a clatter. But she still held Keening and she raised the dagger to strike.

"Please, Lord Nerevar," Dagoth Ur cried with a voice that bordered on the pathetic, "think of what the Heart can achieve for us. It can fulfill your deepest desire, any wish!"

Sarah Ateli turned to look at Dagoth Ur. The grey-skinned god was on his knees.

"I did that by myself."

With that she turned and plunged the enchanted dagger into the Heart. A high-pitched keening emanated from the Heart as the vast power it carried ran wild, cascading throughout the magma chamber. A shrill cry sounded from the lord of the Sixth House as his power faded and his body began to crumble to dust. Sarah stood up and looked around the chamber as the Heart relinquished all control.

All of Morrowind saw Red Mountain explode.

"May I ask you one last question, Sarah Ateli?"

"Of course, Lord Vivec, anything." Sarah replied and turned back towards the centre of the chamber.

When the god-poet spoke again, it seemed less a question from a God of the Tribunal to Lord Nerevar Reborn, than a simple question from one person to another. Innocent, mortal.

"How do you feel about the people of Morrowind?"

Sarah Ateli, Nerevarine True, pondered the question for a moment. "The people of Morrowind are stubborn, suspicious and tough to love. They're a harsh people from a harsh land and they make no attempts to hide it. But they let me in. I was a useless vagrant before I came here, and Vvardenfell gave me a second chance. They never made it easy, but they allowed it, and when I earned it, they never let me down. They are stubborn in their friendships and their love. But once you have their trust, you would never think to betray them, and once you know them, they're tough to hate. The temple-goes, the ashlanders, the mainlanders, every single soul on this island. I love them all, Lord Vivec, and I would fight for them, Nerevarine or not."