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Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Fri Jul 16, 2010 2:47 am
by Gnomey
As I don't feel like waiting until the Iggerty Province mod gets released before "releasing" some of my stories, I thought I might as well make one big thread here. I suppose I'll try to stuff all of the stories into the first post, the new ones being posted above the old ones. All of these stories can be used in any and all mods. I don't particularly care about being credited, either, though from a practical standpoint it would be a pain to, for example, switch my first contribution from a tale about Master Nomas to a tale about some other random person. Also, critiques, comments, and pretty much anything else is welcome. Anyway, here goes:

* * *
I've been thinking of reintroducing the Talos Cult in the Province of Iggerty. After all, the province is an obvious refuge for unsavoury persons of all description, whether criminals, people who simply made the wrong enemies or heretics. I thought I'd explore the cult and its ideology a bit more. They were presented as mindless extremists in Morrowind, at least as far as I could see, and little was said about them, but in hindsight I've been wondering whether they were that far off the mark after all.

I won't say much about them here, first as this isn't really the thread for that and second because I haven't thought of anything solid, but it may be possible to properly join the cult in Iggerty Province. It would probably not have its own questline per se, but would present more than the little you were given in Morrowind. What follows are various texts of the cult; the first two are cult prayers while the others are all penned by the same person; probably a bard and philosopher who may play a large role in the cult.

* * *

Prayer to the Nine Divines

Praise to Mara, who protects the world!
Praise to Dibella, who enriches the world!
Praise to Arkay, who maintains the world!
Praise to Julianos, who lends us knowledge!
Praise to Zenithar, who aids us in commerce!
Praise to Kynareth, who blows wind in our sails!
Praise to Stendarr, who grants us mercy!
Praise to Talos, who guards our safety!
Fie to Akatosh, who betrays existence!
Praise to Shezzar, who over him shall triumph!

* * *

Prayer to Shezzar and his Aspects

Hail Talos! Spirit of Human Endeavor, Patron Imperial!
Hail Tiber! Creator of Realms, Stability in Chaos!
Hail Arctus! Symbol of Sacrifice, Body without Heart!
Hail Wulfharth! Spirit of Human Endeavor! He died so that We must not!
Hail Shezzar! World-Maker, Sacrifice, Spirit! They died so We must not!

* * *

Of Elves

Humans, Elves and Beasts united,
Only unknown creatures slighted,
Living well in harmony.
When will such falsehoods be righted?
Merrish blood and ilk be blighted?
When will we blind humans see?

It is well to trust ones neighbors;
Ally, too, to fight invaders,
Should the situation call;
Know just that they hate creators,
That they'll, in their role of traitors,
Let the blade of folly fall.

For they, in their philosophy,
See our world as of entropy,
State of madness that they'd end;
Their old status is their trophy,
Their goals are of mysanthropy,
Us to that before to send.

We live in this colloseum,
Dreaming out the dreamer's dream,
Striving for a better life;
If we leave things as they seem,
We will let the elves serene
Our Endeavor end in strife.

I propogate not genocide,
Nor our attentions to divide,
But beg all to consider:
If humans do not mark the tide,
Are wary not of elves that bide,
Our very world will wither.

* * *

Of Azura

Of the sixteen acceptable blasphemies
One is worthy of mention:
To worship Azura, Twilight Queen, does please
Many in this dimension.
The Khajiit, Dunmer and even Nibenese
Pray for her intervention,
While I wait 'till one of them finally sees
Her obvious intention:
Her sphere of dawn coupled with dusk's frosty breeze
Allows not the pretention,
That she will eternally hear out our pleas
Aiding us in retention:
As soon as dusk comes she will help the world cease;
Requiring prevention.

* * *

Of Akatosh

Worshippers of Akatosh
You should live in fear:
Of you he wishes the world to wash;
That one you hold most dear!

Beware the Dragon God of Time,
Beware that dreadful being!
For he would on our planet dine,
The seer's sight unseeing!

Know the Dragon Alduin,
Maker of the world,
For with him comes the battle din,
Breaker, wings unfurled!

Know the Hero Auri-El,
Champion of elves,
For their wishes bode unwell:
They would undo themselves!

Worship Shezzar, Shor and Lorkhan,
Hero of the living!
For he strives for greater things,
A future more forgiving.

* * *

Of the Alduin Dichotomy

Hail the Nordic Dragon God,
He who made the world.
Bearer of the divine rod,
He who all his brethren awed,
As he Shor's heart hurled.

See the fearsome Alduin,
He who ends all lives.
He shall lead his dragon kin,
Over all us men to win,
Warlord with his wives.

View now Akatosh divine,
Human's Auri-El.
He whose wisdom flows like wine,
Warden of the Septim line,
Plotter of plots fell.

See our head of pantheon,
He who keeps the law.
If we worship him anon
We shall see a different dawn,
Manifest of flaw.

Know that those two share a head,
Of our foe I speak.
He would have us all be dead,
Have the Dawn return instead,
Death-knell of the weak.

There's a better ancestor,
To whom we can turn:
One who mankind does prefer,
Bringer of a better cure,
Champion of Nirn.

Do not foreign concepts hail,
Heralds of the end.
Worship gods who must not fail,
Friendly gods, who shall prevail,
Our world to defend.

* * *

The first series I'm working on is a five-part autobiography of Master Nomas, as I've already been playing around with his back story a little. In the end, it will probably approach The Real Barenziah in length, but it will be a good deal less racy and, especially at the start, will be filled with Gnomish pedantry. I hope you like it anyway. I'm thinking of also writing a timeline of Tamriel as recorded first-hand, also by Master Nomas, but that will be separate from the series. (There's a lot of fun to be had with a 3727 year old Mage, eh?) The title's just a working title, by the way, though I might feel like going with it anyway. Here, too, suggestions are always welcome. Also, if you notice any Canadian/British grammar/spelling, please mention it. I'm going with Bethesda when it comes to spelling, but it's hard to kick a habit once you've learnt it.

I'm also playing around with the idea of illustrating the books. I think for this series I'll try and go for one full-page image for each book. I already drew the illustration for the second book, showing Master Nomas in the role of Chief Gnome Emperor. I'll naturally resize and alphamap the version that will be used in-game, and will edit out the date and such.

* * *

Memoirs of the Chief Gnome Emperor
by Master Nomas

Book I: Ignorance

It is no little feat, attempting to lay down my life in the pages of this book. I have read the autobiographies of some of man's greatest heroes. The stories of their lives fill some of the largest tomes I have handled. Few lived for a century, and more often than not their lives were cut shorter than those of their short-lived brethren. I do not call myself a hero, but for that I am no man; I am a mer. A mer who has dabbled in what some would call questionable arts, and others would give worse names.

I was born in the year 1E 626, and I am writing these words in the year 3E 410. Even when I condense the events of my life down to those events which I consider of interest to the public, or an element thereof, 3600 years is no little amount of time; much has happened, and a single book cannot contain all that I wish to write down.

An important thing to note, as such, is that this book is about myself. Often, it touches upon the events that were going on at any given time in my life, but I shall not dwell on those events, and will omit them where possible. For most of my life, I have not concerned myself with the world at large; an omission I have attempted to correct these last few centuries. The year in which I was born presents no interest to any but the most specialized historian. I myself cannot think of any notable occurrence in that year.

Certainly nothing that happened near my place of birth would have been noteworthy: I was born in the ancient stronghold Falenserano to House Gimothran, which at the time made use of the stronghold. The First Council had already existed for 210 years, but while Resdayn was united under one Hortator its Houses had by no means been united under the five Great Houses. House Telvanni greatly influenced the nearby Houses, but Gimothran was formally still independent. That did not take long to change, however.

In my youth I had a rather unfortunate character, as I at all times either had my head in the clouds or rebelled against my elders. I spent a good deal of time killing things in the forests surrounding the stronghold, and through doing so became a rather skilled hunter.

The Telvanni were continually becoming more powerful in the region and before long had effectively subdued House Gimothran, but there was little fighting, Gimothran having lacked the manpower to put up any serious fight. Either way, at the time I put greater weight behind my affiliation with House Omaren, Nomas being a corruption of that name, and House Gimothran had defeated House Omaren.

In general, I fought either in sport or in anger, but never in battle, until I reached the age of thirty-four, by which time I had made myself quite unpopular with anyone and everyone who lived in the region, though I tended to get along well with strangers for some reason.

The year was the "Year of Winter in Summer", or at least it is called as such by some, and though I was mostly ignorant of the happenings at the Velothi Mountains there was certainly an influx of Orcs in Morrowind at that time, for whatever reason. Now, living in Eastern Vvardenfell as I did, meeting an Orc didn't seem all too likely. However, I did. Three, actually.

An Orc band had, it seems, through long wandering and hard fighting, ended up in the forests East of Red Mountain, where one or two of their number had succumbed to disease or bloodloss. Those lands were a good deal safer at the time than pretty much any part of Vvardenfell is now, many species having only developed their potent thirst for blood in the wake of the eruption, but in those days before the Tribunal the countryside was plagued by vampires and other such ancient denizens.

As a result, the three remaining Orcs preferred to live in the shadow of Falenserano, the very presence of which served to ward off many dangers. It also provided an easy source of provisions, if they could take them, and the Orcs did not hesitate to take advantage of that.

Defying the stereotypes one generally hears about Orcs, the three refugees did an excellent job of raiding Falenserano without turning any heads. In fact, they unintentionally managed to drop hints suggesting one of the inhabitants was behind the disappearing stores, and a bitter thread of discord wound its way through the stronghold, separating its populace.

I, as usual, didn't concern myself with it, and instead continued to hunt in the woods as I always had. As I said, I had developed into a fine hunter by that time, and few Chimer could watch me in the forest without my knowing of their presence. Those Orcs, however, were at another level, and as I later found out they had been watching me for a while.

One day, I was hunting a wild animal. It was not a day in which I would have gotten a large yield: my head was in the clouds on that day. Had it been otherwise, though; had I been attentive and, as a result, irate, my head would have probably ended up in a less favorable locale, namely near my feet. What the Orcs were unaware of was the fact that I had carefully marked out my hunting area and had chased all my fellow mer away from it. As a result, unless I was wandering near the edge of my area, the animals I hunted were unharmed and unaccustomed to mer.

On that day, however, I found signs of blood along the tracks of the animal I was following. The trail was nowhere near the edge of my hunting grounds. After I took the wounded animal down, I saw the arrow that had wounded it sticking out of its side. On any other day I would have attempted to hunt down and punish the hunter for harming one of my animals. I did not feel so inclined on that occasion, however, so I instead harvested half the meat and covered the rest in a way so that it was clearly visible yet protected from wild animals. In short, I left it to the hunter who had maimed it, and had thereby made it an easy kill for me.

It was on my next hunt that I met with the consequences of my absentmindedness. Rather, as I was returning from the hunt. Night had already crept in while I made basic preparations to make the transport of my yield a simpler task when, my task being finished, I heard an Orcish voice address me from a distance. I could not see him through the trees, though I searched hard for him with my eyes, but his voice was clear, and I can still recall our coversation after all these years:

"Greetings, Chimer. You hunted well today."

"Who is addressing me?"

"A fellow hunter who admires his colleague. You do not only have skill, friend, but also courtesy."

"Are you the hunter who lamed my prey yesterday?"

"Your prey, you say?"

"I have claimed these hunting grounds as my own, and none of my brethren have dared infringe upon it in a while."

"I have no relation to you, other than that of an equal. Yesterday you stopped being prey and, if you don't mind my saying so, you are not good enough to be my predator. As such, we can only be friends and opponents."

"If I have an equal, I would like to know his name and face."

"My name is unimportant, but I do not mind if you see my face."

The Orc emerged from the trees. He was the first foreigner I had ever laid my eyes on, and I knew him before I knew of the existence of Orcs. However, I killed a lot of stranger things, and avoided my fellow mer when I could, so I was hardly deterred by his foreign appearance. Looking at the average Orc, I can now say that his face was squarer than most Orcs, and longer. While he had a few wrinkles, they all ran vertically, and the effect was strengthened by his facial tattoos. His limbs were fairly long and quite thick, but he was no hulking Imga: his body was more Khajiiti in build.

His armor, or what was left of it, was well tended to and was in good repair. However, the suit was incomplete, the Orcish metalwork being replaced with local materials in many places. He carried a fairly stout bow, a quiver bristling with arrows and a short spear, all crafted in the Orcish style and well tended to.

For the next little while the Orc and I would regularly meet to chat and hunt, and we got along pretty well. The Orc gradually started probing me about my relation with the other Chimer, rather visibly being contented upon hearing that it wasn't good. After that we continued to develop our trust in each other, and he eventually introduced the other two orcs to me. One of them was a scarred, relatively small individual who was covered up to the neck with layers of Orcish armor and weaponry. His helm, and certain elements of his armor, had a surprisingly Ayleid flair to them.

The Orc had expressive eyes which penetrated his emotionless visage. Thinking back, aside from the Dwemer, he may have been one of the first to adopt full armor. His bow was also unusual. I can only describe it as a manually operated crossbow. The third Orc had, in contrast, "gone native" in regards to his attire. He stood out both for his, for an Orc, unusually lithe body and for the large weapons that shared his back with his bow and quiver.

Before I knew it, I was comfortably assimilated into their cabal. I'm not quite sure when I realized that they were behind the whole mess that was unfolding at Falenserano, but I really didn't care about that, and instead gave them information and eventually also took part in the raids. I did a good job of hiding my knowledge of the raids, and made sure never to be found out, but it was inevitable that we would be outwitted some day by the Chimer.

Strangely enough, it seems that my involvement had either not been noticed or whoever wizened up didn't feel like mentioning my being an accomplice to the raids for whatever reason. Be that is it may, the Orcs ran into a trap while I did not.

The trap was easy enough to set: I knew, and from their particularly successful raids the Orcs knew, that the really worthwhile loot was kept within the fort's substructure. The fort was already fairly old by then, so the appearance of a direct route from the outside into the substructure by means of a small cave-in would not have been anything to put the Orcs on their guard. They naturally tried to exploit that route, and from that point on trapping and surrounding them inside the fort was an easy matter. At that time, I was busy in another part of the substructure opening locks unobserved to make passage easy for the Orcs. It didn't take me long to find out about what was happening, given all the bustle of the Chimer arming themselves, so I went to see the situation for myself.

The battle had apparently started recently, but was already going at full swing. The Chimer were at a disadvantage because the Orcs had retreated to the narrow hallways, where the Chimer could not properly employ their numbers, but for that the lithe Orc had no little difficulty in operating his large weapons in the cramped space. It was almost two minutes before the first body fell, and both sides refused to give up any ground.

I am sorry to say that I've never thought much of chivalry, especially in my early years: having made my way into the thick of the Chimer crowd, I whipped out my dagger and quickly dispatched two nearby mer before they realized what was happening. I then quickly switched the dagger for my long cleaver, with which I managed to clear a few more Chimer. As everyone was packed around me, it took a while for them to fully be able to comprehend what was happening, and even after that they didn't have enough room in which to swing their weapons effectively.

Due to my admittedly unsavoury tactics the nearby Chimer panicked and tried to get away, stopping the Chimer who were further away from approaching and further clogging up the hallway. The two remaining Orcs, the lithe one having died, were also quite capable of holding their end of the fight, and I'm sure we could have done a sight more than simply retreat if we had been so inclined. That was that, however: we decided to retreat and I was outlawed from my home, much to my indifference.

Book II: Curiosity

Image

My underhanded dealings of 1E 661 had provided more benefits than anything else had in my life up to that point. That fact did not immediately become apparent to me, though: after my bloody departure from my home I decided to set about to look for a fight alongside my Orcish companions, and we did a good deal of wandering. The days of the first council were peaceful, but a fight could always be found if you knew where to look. And the best place to look at the time, and for that matter today, was to the frontier.

The borders of Argonia have remained consistently perilous to this day, while the Velothi mountains were not, as they are today, monitored by a powerful Empire. The Alessian Empire had still not completely recovered from their defeat in the Glenumbria Moors, and at that time there were more dangerous animals making their home in the mountains anyway, especially Orcs, who were a good deal wilder in those days.

It was to the latter frontier that our little party made its way. They wished to recruit from their number to form a new band. Having not hunted in a few millenia, I cannot say whether the life I led until I was thirty-five has given me any lasting abilities. I am sorry to say that I have probably forgotten most of what I had learnt in those years. During the following years up to the outbreak of war, however, I mastered many martial skills which have stayed with me and which laid a strong, physical foundation for my future fighting style.

The Velothi mountains were and are cold, often barren monstrosities, riddled with danger. Small groves found purchase in the frigid soil between the high, frosty peaks. Level ground was an unknown: only sharp slopes could be seen, interweaving one another in a complex maze and often creating deep crevasses and nooks as a result. Those inhospitable holes, "cave" being too generous a term for them, being the only shelter provided from the harsh elements, were crawling with all forms of odd beings, many of which would baffle zoologists.

It was rather strange for me, who had only known forests and fields up to that point, and what was at the time the gentle slope of Red Mountain, to see how at home the Orcs felt in that labyrinth. I repeat the fact that the mountains were inhospitable, but I say that from hearsay more than personal experience: it seems Olgar, the short Orc, and to a lesser extent Ulbam were well-known, well-liked and well-respected by the Velothi Orcs, and despite the fact that they hadn't gone to that region of the mountain range in several years, they quickly made themselves at home in the vibrant and chaotic community there, the word community being used in its loosest sense.

For a few months we shuttled around, visiting countless Orcs and other beings, paying our respects to monolithic, blue-stained shrines devoted to Malacath. During the course of our dealings I picked up a passable understanding of the Orcish tongue and a fragmentary understanding of the Goblin language.

As I do not wish to dwell on that period too much, suffice to say I spent the next six years raiding, skirmishing and in general making myself a well-known figure. Before long, I had my own odd following alongside Olgar's force, and operated in my own area of the mountains, though I maintained friendly relations with the Orcs. Tiring somewhat of the terrain, I convinced Olgar and three other Orcish warlords to accompany me in what I can best describe as a small campaign.

The three warlords were, incidentally, an odd bunch. One was a runty ogre who, as the story goes, had rendered service to Hermaeus Mora and as such was unusually intelligent for his race. Perhaps he was no scholar, but his mind was naturally sharp and the knowledge he had gained allowed him to put it to use in unusual ways. He might have made a shrewd strategist, but he didn't care to employ his mental abilities in mind games, which in hindsight was a characteristically wise decision.

Another was the result of an unfortunate union between an Orc male and Breton female, and as such appeared to be a very robust Breton. He had been shunned when he lived in High Rock, but being unusually strong, and having retained most of his race's affinity to magic, few could withstand him in battle. As such, he was respected by his Orcish kin. His name was Rusel gro-Burak.

The third and last warlord was, in every way, an average Orc in appearance. His unique mind bore his full character: he was a skilled tactician and his open, adaptive, searching intellect would have made him popular in House Telvanni. At the time, I considered him the most dangerous of the warlords, as he constantly saw through my stratagems and schemes. As such, I made sure that our relations remained that of distant friends. In every other way, he was a very proper and honorable Orc, and the fact that he surrounded himself with hulking avatars of his race should not make one think he was a coward. His name was Urk gro-Vumag, and it is a pity that his life did not extend past Orcish limitations.

The campaign was a long one. Urk and the ogre descended into the Imperial province and raided to the North of Cheydinhal, keeping hidden but leaving a lot of marks of their passing behind as they went. The local forces were sent out to put an end to the rash of lawlessness, at which point the two warlords parted ways, Urk heading Northwards while causing as much trouble as he could, while the ogre halted all raids and swiftly and stealthily moved his forces to the area just South of Cheydinhal. While most of Cheydinhal's forces were busy chasing Urk in the North, he launched a short and violent raid at Cheydinhal itself, taking the town by surprise and then quickly escaping with the help of the city's horses.

In the meanwhile, Urk stopped making noise and quickly went into hiding, issuing scouts to keep an eye on Cheydinhal's forces. Most of those forces were quickly recalled to Cheydinhal to deal with the ogre while the rest were carefully and unwittingly manipulated by Urk until they were completely surrounded in bad terrain, which is when Urk attacked, decimating the force and ensuring that nobody escaped with the news of their defeat. Having done that, he rejoined the ogre, though he continued to keep his forces hidden.

Back in Cheydinhal, the ogre was raiding the villages South of the city. Cheydinhal's troops were too few in number to do much at that point, and they were more concerned with protecting the city from further attacks. However, help was requested of and granted by the Imperial City. They sent a detachment of their army to deal with the warlords, and it wasn't a small detachment. In response, the ogre began retreating to the South, raiding as he went, with the Alessian forces in tow.

In that way they approached Argonia. While the Alessian army had often come close to confronting the ogre, Urk would always use his clever tactics to momentarily distract them from the track, confusing them just long enough to allow the ogre to gain some distance again. The other three warlords, under my leadership, were also approaching Argonia, travelling parallel to the first group but on the other side of the Velothi mountains. Our route was somewhat quieter, our force was larger and the land was less prosperous, so our part of the journey went more quickly and was less eventful.

Indeed, our group reached Argonia a few days before the other group, giving us plenty of time to set up our reception. Rusel hid in the fringe of the Argonian jungle, Olgar hid in the Southernmost of the Valothi mountains while I waited in the foothills on Morrowind's side. The plan quickly came together: the ogre's forces disappeared into the forest, and, as the Alessian forces approached, all of our mages and most of our archers, led by Rusel, let loose from within the jungle. The effectiveness of magic in the battle, something I had not seen in action until then, made a deep impression on me that I would remember in a year's time. It made a different impression on the Alessian forces, who charged into the jungle only to be led astray by Urk's forces as soon as they entered it.

From that point on, the Alessians were manipulated into heading deeper into the jungle, while the warlords retreated. The Alessian forces eventually regained their sense of direction, but that was after having wandered aimlessly through Argonia's deadly jungle, losing most of their forces. The few that made it out again faced all five of us warlords and our combined army, which far outnumbered them.

The campaign brought us all a lot of wealth and power. The Alessian army wasn't numerous enough to risk losing another such detachment at the hands of bandits, effectively allowing us warlords to rule a large part of Eastern Cyrodiil along with our small foothold in Morrowind. We divided the lands into five bandit empires, maintaining close relations and calling ourselves the "Gnome Emperors" (a reflection on our actual or perceived sizes), and in recognition of my having thought up the original plan I was elected as "Chief Gnome Emperor", the first and easily the shadiest generation of that title.

It was as Chief Gnome Emperor, ruling over the region in Morrowind, that I was contacted by another member of my race. Prior to his coming, I and other Gnome Emperors had noticed a mysterious trickle of funding and had been unable to find any clear source, other than the fact that it seemed to come from the East. I have come to the conclusion that the funding was intended to butter up the Orcs in preparation for the War of the First Council, though it surprises me in hindsight that the outbreak of war had already been predicted a good year before Lord Indoril Nerevar made his uncomfortable discoveries.

The Chimer was a member of House Telvanni. His House had already made note of my existance in 1E 661, when I had created no little disturbance in Falenserano, whose inhabitants had apparently been forced to ask House Telvanni for protection, and as a result had been merged into that House completely. All of that because of my skirmish within its walls. My actions made things easier for House Telvanni, and they were of the opinion that I might be of some further use to them, sending one of their low-ranked members to track me down.

That member, the Chimer who requested my audience, had heard of my other actions and my local notoriety since then, and was impressed. His superiors were too, apparently, because the price he wished to buy my services with was no little sum. I willingly accepted. The promised payment wasn't my only reason for becoming a retainer of House Telvanni: my thirst for blood and, more importantly, my awakened interest in magic contributed to my decision..

The War of the First Council has been described in various books with varying accuracy. I can generally tell which statements are accurate and which are not, but I can't describe how the war unfolded: I fought from battle to battle with little care of where I was or why I was fighting. There was more fighting than House Telvanni could deal with, and I saw its mages employ magicka in interesting and innovative ways, in their desperation. As such, I was satisfied with the war. However, the prospects of wealth and fortune looked bleak: I had left my "empire" behind and the Telvanni did not do well in the war.

Olgar had decided to join Nerevar's side of the conflict with the prospect of fighting alongside me, but he died fairly quickly in a disasterous encounter, while Ulbam managed to escape from the same battle with most of his life but few of his limbs, and was out of commission for the rest of the war and, for that matter, his life, finally dying of old age. The ogre had been killed off by some Imperial adventurer shortly before the war had broken out, while Rusel stayed put in his lands. Ulk, I hear, had joined the Dwemer side of the conflict, but managed to escape back to the mountains when he sensed the way the war was unfolding, shortly before the battle of Red Mountain.

At about the same time as that I managed to regain contact with some nomad tribesmen, and by extension Nerevar's army, after a long period of guerilla battles in what is now the Molag Amur region while completely isolated. Using guerilla tactics against the Dwemer is a dangerous game: their firepower is not to be trifled with, and they were hard to surprise and harder to escape. Sometimes, their walkers would fire blindly into the forest, the projectiles tearing down trees right and left, the trees doing little to slow the projectiles.

After taking part in some large-scale maneuvers I rejoined the main army and took part in the Battle of Red Mountain. The battle would have lasted for days if it had been left to itself. The mass of warriors seemed endless. What remained of my Orcish followers seemed lost in the mass of flying spells and Dwemer metal. The mighty warriors with whom I had fought for the past seven years, who had commanded fear and respect in the Velothi mountains, fell like flies. That, I was convinced, was the power of magic.

The Dwemer were a magical race, but their magic was different and subtle, so that I was unsure as to whether magicka was even being used by them. As such, for me, the Chimer mages I fought alongside represented magic. For me, it was a battle between magic, brawn and mystery. Brawn was already losing, and then the Dwemer disappeared, or rather disintigrated. As I saw it at the time, magic had crushed mystery. I was convinced of its omnipotence.

The whole nature of the battle changed too, naturally. Through intelligent tactics, for all I know, the Great Houses appeared to have the advantage. Without the Dwemer, the opponents were those Chimer who had joined the Dwemer and a large mass of disoriented Nords and Orcs. The Nords and Orcs were still a force to be reckoned with; my earlier statements reflected my impressions rather than fact. After all, it was only with the Dwemer that the Chimer had succeeded in expelling the Nords.

However, the majority of the foreigners fought with the promise of land and wealth. Promises made in part by the race that had just disappeared and in part by the small force of Chimer who could clearly not win against their fellow mer. Most of the outlanders were eager to cut their losses with some swift looting and then escape.

The battle was ended by magic and, a while later, my skin turned grey and my eyes turned red. Magic again. The Tribunal emerged from the mountain as gods. More magic. They began restoring order to the land, among other things eliminating what was left of my bandit empire. By then, I had already forgotten about it. I had left it behind when I joined the war, and by the time of the eruption of Red Mountain it might as well never have existed, for all I cared.

It was clear to me that I would be unable to reach any notoriety as an outlaw in those early days of the Tribunal, and the advent of future wars seemed unlikely. Certainly nothing on a scale that would require a mercenary. For me, at the time, it was not an unfortunate fact, but a release from my duties. I was free to study the intriguing unknown that was magic.

Book III: Knowledge
Book IV: Understanding

Image

Book V: Application

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Sun Jul 18, 2010 4:45 pm
by Gnomey
The second book has been completed and added to the first post. I also split the length of the paragraphs in two because they were filling whole pages in their in-game form. Technically,the second book is the first complete one. I still haven't gotten around to illustrating the first book.

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 7:40 am
by Gnomey
I haven't worked on this much recently, but I did just get another illustration finished. This one required a bit more patching up with photoshop, I'm afraid. Again, I uploaded a large image as opposed to the small image that will be used by the books. (I'll want to look into that again...)

Anyway, the illustration corresponds to the fourth book, after Nomas learned magic, and it shows the direct results of his knowledge. A good long while has already passed since Red Mountain's eruption and Nomas is in Iggerty Province. The Daedric ruin is an actual in-game location I've already created.

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 10:01 am
by Wolf
Im trying to keep up with it.  Im not much of a reader but I try to read everyones books withen a month or two.  Right now im at the part in the first book where the orcs trip the trap.  Very interesting book.

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 10:09 am
by Gnomey
I'm always worried that my books drag on too long, so I'm glad you like it. :smile:

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Mon May 16, 2011 9:25 am
by Myrtle
This is great Gnomey! I love how you explored the dynamics of First Age politics, and your character is awesome - he comes across very mer-ish :-)
It's cool how you add illustrations. I particularly like the first one because the clothing you drew him in is different and unique; it fits with Morrowind very well, I think.
I look forward to reading more!
-Myrtle

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Sun Sep 04, 2011 7:09 am
by Midgetalien
intrsting read! I know its been a while but are you making any more?

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Sun Sep 04, 2011 8:21 am
by Jac
Gnomey, Gnomey, wherefore art though, small garden gnome?

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2011 9:06 am
by Gnomey
D'aw, I was missed. :hug:

Nomas' Autobiography is still a WIP, but I do plan to get back to it. For now, a barrage of poetry. As I explain in the first post, I've been thinking about the Talos Cult, and ended up writing prayers and other cult mumbo-jumbo. The prayers are self-explanatory, while the author of the aforementioned mumbo-jumbo appears to be taking shape as some sort of Ovid like figure, which isn't too surprising as I happen to be learning about Ovid. Unlike Ovid, along with being banished himself, pretty much every work of the poet is probably banned wherever the Empire can enforce such a ban, which is in most places other than Iggerty Province.

On that note, see if you can list all of the reasons the poet was banished. :wink:

Re: Gnomey's Morrowind Books

PostPosted: Fri Nov 25, 2011 6:47 pm
by Tornarr
I give you the vivic seal of vivicness :VivecSmile:y  Now pay with your blood!  :orcsword:   :evilwibble:   :orcsword: