Prologue
Five hundred years after the Oblivion Crisis...
Many years ago, the Champion of Cyrodiil stopped the daedra from invading. The hordes of infernal dremora and vicious daedroth. When he left Mankar Camaron's Paradise, people viewed him as a hero. However, he had become much darker.
He then went to the Shivering Isles in search of power. When he returned, any traces of humanity had left him. In his demented rage, he slaughtered the Blades, and began a crusade of crimes. However, an Argonian assassin stopped him.
After that, the Argonian and his Khajiiti companion came to the ruins of Morrowind to regain their thoughts. For after they killed the Champion, their long-lost Dunmeri friend arrived in a new-found body of a lich. They killed him and ever sense held a deep sense of remorse.
For some time they stayed in the blackened remnants of the Dunmeri homeland, but left. The despair that filled their hearts from seeing the remains of where they met their friend caused them to leave. They were never seen again.
There is rumor in the streets of the Imperial City of a daedric cult with the power to weaken, or even destroy the seal from our world and theirs. The Champion of Cyrodiil rose up before, I must rise up now. After the Mede empire fell, a daedra-worshipper conquered Tamriel.
When I was a squire, they taught me the skills of swordplay, ettiquette, archery, and restoration. Now I guess I'll have to put my skills to the test. I must walk in his footsteps, but I must remember the teachings of the Dunmer, the Argonian, and the Khajiit.
The time is near, I must stop time from repeating itself...
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"You have the same twenty-four hours as me; don't be mad just because you don't use yours like I do." -Tupac Shakur
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