The elemental spirits bound by the cultists call themselves the Ehlnofey; our ancient ancestors and remnants of a time long past, yet still chaperoning a contemporary world.
As a boy growing up in Cyrodiil I had my heart set on joining the Imperial infantry, so I paid little heed and held sceptical anything that didn’t seem relevant to my ambition. The chronicles, the histories, and theology were all but mythos and fables to me; doubtful stories of misinterpreted events, written by liars, and retold by fools.
It is only now, as I begin to travel this world and witness first-hand the suffering and hardships borne by so many in the name of deities long forgot, that I begin to realise that history is very much alive, ubiquitous, relevant, and terribly affecting. And furthermore, that the whole course of history can be dependent upon a sword swing by one solitary individual.