I return to Daggerfall feeling the need to spend a little time back amongst the living, and perhaps to find quiet respite from the unremittent presentiment that everything is trying to kill me.  Yet barely do I make it through the city gates before the Prophet’s ethereal form beckons’ me once more back to the Harbourage.

Villainous agents of the worm cult are operating under the very streets of Daggerfall.  Corruption unseen and unheard is at work, the reanimated dead, necromancy, and dark ritual pollute this city’s subterrane, and it reeks of the sickly stench of Mannimarco.

S.K