Hey this is my first attempt at any elder scrolls fan fiction in a while. So it may seem a little rusty. There should be more when I get around to typing it up.



Grey clouds drifted across the horizon. A shadow soon began to envelope the landscape of the fertile region of the Ascadian Islands. The overcast inducing a grey luster to oppress the vibrant green hues of the enviroment’s lush plant life.

Soon after the arrival of the clouds a shower of water began to rinse the area. The Dunmer Savren Dovaris had not even realized that it had begun to rain. He had positioned himself beneath a massive mushroom that had provided for an ample amount of shelter from the inclement weather.

There was a crack of thunder and Savren grumbled in irritation of the sound . He knew the noise would interrupt his peaceful afternoon, for the thunder storms of Morrowind are known for their intensity.

Savren’s age was easily seen , with great creases and multiple scars that ran along his face, along with a long grey goatee that was fastened into a knot at the bottom. His hair was cut short and close to his scalp. He was garbed in a worn and ripped robe. A large, wide brimmed sun hat was draqed across his head as well as partialy concealing his face. His only possesions were that of an old chitin spear and a bottle of sujamma.

The old Dunmer began to drift back off into thought and eventualy found himself asleep. His rest went uninterrupted until the rhythmic pattern of raindrops was intercepted by a pair of splashing. He figured they must be footsteps as he listened closer.

After a couple moments of scanning off into the outlying area, Savren perceived a faint outline of a figure moving within distance. The figure was moving fast and heading in Savren’s direction.

When the figure was close enough Savren he began to make out details of the incomers apearance. The stranger was fully covered in bonemold armor. A large, flowing red robe covered in runes and Dunmeri markings adorned the outside of the armor. His helmet was unmistakably shaped in the style of House Redoran.

Once the stranger was within less then ten feet from Savren did he stop, and began to intently stare at him. Neither said a word for a minute until Savren broke the silence, “Not often Redoran is seen in Hlaalu lands, care to state what it is you’re doing that requires you to bother me” his raspy voice full of annoyance.

“I care not what you think, old man, for in moments a group of Nords will be upon us who seek my head, and they will not hesitate to kill you as well, for they hate all mer kind. If you are any good with that spear you would help me fight.” the Redoran exclaimed with a calm, almost emotionless tone.