Thrice Blessed and Thrice Cursed: Memories of a Dunmer Pilgrim (Part 2)

By Erdar Nyrandil, 4E 202

Prologue

The Curse of Loss and My Exodus from Morrowind Continued from [Part 1:] (http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2tvmo0/thrice_blessed_and_thrice_cursed_memories_of_a/)

For those readers unfamiliar with the Morrowind landscape prior to the Red Year, Ald’Ruhn was situated near the Red Mountain in the Ashlands. Terrible ash storms were common place in Ald’Ruhn, and the threat of the Blight was ever present. As a guard serving in Ald’Ruhn, one of my father’s primary roles was to kill and dispose of Blighted creatures which somehow made their way to the city borders. The Blight often changed those infected, though not typically physically. In later years, I would come to understand how my father could spot a Blighted rat or cliff racer based on their unusual and typically disoriented behaviors. I would also come to loathe that he did not see these behaviors in a friend.

I recall that it was a warm day in the month of Midyear. I was a mere five years old, and in a rare turn of events, I was allowed to follow my father around the city as he patrolled the walls. The city was alive with the daily routines of her people, for it was a clear day. The ash storms had not come, and we were left with a gentle breeze and a clear blue sky. Such days may be commonplace for the Nords in my current home in Skyrim, but they were a special treat for the Dunmer who resided in the Ashlands, an often harsh and unforgiving environment. On this clear blue day, seemingly devoid of any Blight, a disease came to Ald’Ruhn.

Engrossed in the patrol, we did not realize at first that the priest was approaching us from behind. I will never forget that he made his presence unintentionally known by a cough so fierce, I had thought the silt strider was dying. Turning to see what could make such a noise, my father cried out in familiarity and joy while I gasped in startled fear. Standing before us was a tall, gaunt and unusually pale figure, shaking as he recovered from his cough. He wore a lavish robe which clashed against his stern and unforgiving face. To my dismay, my father walked up and greeted the Dunmer as clan friend. I would later find that the two had been inseparable in their youth, and were as family. I can only assume that it was this love and devotion to family and clan that blinded him in his final days.

[Part 1] (http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2tvmo0/thrice_blessed_and_thrice_cursed_memories_of_a/) and [Part 3] (http://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/2twqr7/thrice_blessed_and_thrice_cursed_memories_of_a/)