Memoirs Of A Morag Tong Assassin; Volume One: Vvardenfell, Chapter One: "...to the east, to Morrowind." Options

[Black Hand]

The innocent possess no wisdom.

Would you take the word of a guard over a freed prisoner to what the value of freedom is?

Would you listen in earnest to the words of a rich man if he described hunger to you?

Would you believe a savior over a killer as to what regret truly is?

The hand that holds the knife often holds the pen for what is told after. This the case of my memoirs. I’ve tried to be as fair as I can, but I present no delusions that this is the objective account of my life, or the tale of the Nerevarine. This is my life as I have seen it, thus far.

If you wish to judge me, you are certainly free to do so. Though, I’ve made it quite clear in the title, this is the tale of an Assassin. Not the Dark Brotherhood so feared in the West, yet loved in the darkest thoughts of all.

No, I am an Assassin of a different cut, that of the Morag Tong. Perhaps you’ve heard of it, perhaps not. You’ll see soon enough that our order functions quite differently from our counterpart, and as to why we are legal within the Empire. So long as we keep our activities within our own province, that is.

If tales of treachery, deception, spilled blood; without regard to whether or not it was deserved, trouble you...read no further.

I am a Dunmer, born and raised in Cyrodiil, sent to the east, to Morrowind. I am the one who was once known as the Nerevarine. Though, I’ve left that part of my life, and myself behind me mostly. My actions have written a new myth, and that myth is best left in the hearts and minds of those it inspires, especially as I am far less than what it entails.

My name is Sethyas Velas, and this is my tale.

[haute ecole rider]

I keep telling myself to sit down and read Sethyas's stories, but I never do. *hangs head in shame*

I'm one of those people who, if I start reading something, I like to keep reading until the words run out. That means stories that are already quite far along demand more time than I have to spare.

This, on the other hand, as a WIP, will be easier for me to consume, as I will have to travel at the writer's own pace, not mine. No problem--it means I get to read this as it unfolds!

I find it interesting that the Brothers of Julianos would be located in Cheydinhal County, not Skingrad (the Chapel of Julianos is there, as are two well-known vineyards). However, there is no reason why wine grapes can't grow in Cheydinhal County, either, with all the south-facing slopes at the lower altitudes.

I am looking forward to more.