My Story of Insanity
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You don't miss it, unless you have lost it" I was once a hero, known throughout Vvardenfell as the Nerevarine; for I had I defeated Dagoth Ur and brought peace and calm to Morrowind. The denizens of the land I had saved worshipped me for this, against my wishes, like a great king. Treated like a god, I was brought everything I desired, everything, save one. For you can't truly raise the dead.
Soon after I traveled to Solstheim, eager to get away from the constant worship. But I got mixed up with the Daedra, and defeated the Hunter, and his cursed wolves, in the process. It seems like trouble is drawn to me; the times I have had to defeat evil and save the citizens of the empire are countless.
I had even journeyed to Mournhold to stop an attempt on my life, uncovered the madness of the false-god Almalexia, and was forced to slay her. I did not shed any tears for Sotha Sil, whom I found laying dead on a mass of his own machines; killed by one he once called a friend. I felt no remorse for the deaths of the Tribunal, I don't know if they earned their death, but they certainty did not earn their power, nor their respect.
Though I survived all that, there is only one thing I could not stop… My own slow, steady, and unstoppable decline into insanity.
I am not entirely sure as to the reason that I write this, maybe it is because I want the world to know that I am not a monster, perhaps it helps slow my oncoming madness. But, in the end, it does not change any thing.
I will leave these with an old friend, I hope he will remember past debts, do what is right, and get my message to the people of Tamriel.
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Much better then this.
http://chorrol.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=512Yeah, not that great, I admit it. But I have spent a good two hours today alone working on this and updating it, and plan on doing the same to the rest of the story.
Tell me what you think.