《The Sharmat's Incarnate (Morrowind Fan-Fic)》Act I, Part II: The Outer Ruins

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Act I, Part II: The Outer Ruins

By Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger

I never got to see New Vivec before it got sacked, but every rat knows that it used to be something special. People used to come from all over the moon for a chance to make something of themselves here, but now it’s nothing but a series of interconnected tombs for all those who couldn’t get away during the Hundred Days’ War. Some would say it’s unfortunate, but me? I say it’s life. There’s a reason places like New Balmora don’t fall and it’s because they don’t let just anybody in. New Vivec—it was supposed to be this meritocracy where anyone could make something of themselves and that’s what led to the Rebellion which pulled the guards away from the Walls and then—well—that’s history.

I shouldn’t get lost daydreaming though because even out here it’s dangerous. Sure, most of us follow the rules of the Guild, but there’s always renegades and freelancers who are just as quick to put a knife in your back as they are to leave you alone. Fortunately though, I haven’t seen much of anyone so far and who knows, maybe I won’t. That would be nice. A nice easy move through the Outer Ruins and then I’ll just hop into one of the Cantons and hopefully find that damn book. I wish I had a map of this place though, but who keeps maps of the interior of a sacked city? What’s the point—especially when nobody even bothers trying to get inside it anymore? Hell, I shouldn’t even be trying; I’ll probably be a deader the second I crack the seal on one of those doors and then what? Will anybody even care that I’m gone? Will Skriiva even care?

Probably not, but that doesn’t matter too much anyways. I mean, if I die, it doesn’t matter who cares if I’m dead or not, because I won’t be here to be with them and if I don’t, I guess I’ll still be here and that’s something of a good thing I suppose. I’ll have another day to make another run to pull another haul so I can survive another day. I guess when I put it like that, it doesn’t seem like much of a reward if I pull out of this intact, but that’s all I’ve got and it’ll have to be enough.

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I will say though that I am glad to have made it this far. This is deeper than I’ve ever been, like I’m actually inside the walls and it’s kind of beautiful in a melancholy sort of way. The courtyard is littered with the bones of those who fought here all those years ago and it tells a sad story as you walk through it. Some of these skeletons are small. Too small to have been old enough to be any real use in a fight, but they were out here too doing whatever they could to help protect their home and there’s the occasional note I find. I think they’re letters, but, hell, I can’t tell—I can’t read Aldmeris. But judging by the rushed penmanship, I think these were the last words of some of these people. Maybe farewells to loved ones? Maybe a last prayer? I don’t know and it doesn’t much matter, it’s just interesting to look back at these people and think about their lives as I rummage through what’s left of them.

I should probably quit wasting time writing in this journal though while there’s no one around. No goblins. No specters. No other rats. If I want to crack a seal, now’s the time, so that’s what I’m going to go do.

Hopefully this isn’t my last entry, but if it is, so be it. I tried my best.

-Antuul Dralosi, Scavenger

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