It was a relief to spend at least one night with a roof over my head, and in the comfort of a real bed again. As I looked out across a Daggerfall freshly brushed by the morning sun, I took note perhaps for the first time just how pretty this city is.
When I was a child growing up in Cyrodiil, no matter the weather, every morning my mother would rise with the sun and take her breakfast in her lovingly tended garden. “Remember how beautiful this is”, she would say, “because you never know when you might lose it.”
We lost Cyrodiil… I’ll be damned if I’ll lose Daggerfall.
Upon this sunrise I pledge fresh allegiance. My shield for the Covenant… my sword for her enemies.