From inside the Manor House the wounded Grigerda directs the resistance against the cultist and dremoran occupation of Bruma. Every warrior wishes to lead on the battlefield, to motivate others that follow by their example of commitment and dedication, but alas for Grigerda this is not to be her fate. Sending others into the streets to fight may go against her every sentiment, but Bruma needs her not to lead, but to point the way.

The truth is however that all our acts of resistance in Bruma may not be enough to save this town from the cruel clutches of Coldharbour. With the Shadowed Path cultists roaming the streets, dremora appearing from portals all-over, and the Black Dagger bandits waiting in their holes to strike like a pack of starving skeevers, Bruma’s doom seems to be inevitable.

But what separates men and mer from daedra is that we are unable to sit back and passively accept fate. We are stubborn and fight to our last breath, because unlike the daedra our last breath is our final breath. And besides, how do you really know if it is inevitable, if you do not resist the apparent inevitable. Maybe every time we stand and strike out against our oppressors we are just tossing another stone into the sea, creating but the smallest ripple of hope. Yet maybe with enough ripples we may eventually build a tide that will wash clean the streets of Bruma. Maybe.

S.K

In the occupied town of Bruma the Nord militia gallantly hold back the cultists and Dremora from the chapel doors whilst the healer Hjorik and his assistants treat the wounded and dying. One need only look about this chapel to realise that survivors of wars aren’t the strongest, nor the smartest; they are simply the luckiest.

Unfortunately Hjorik is fast running out of supplies and will gratefully accept any assistance from passing mercenaries and banners of any colour. He asks that you search the town for lost survivors, fresh water from the well, and discarded clothing with which to fashion bandages. He requests that you recharge his restoration scrolls at an ancient stone circle, gather mushrooms with healing properties from the bandit occupied Capstone Cave, and close a Dremora portal before the monsters can gather in number. Alas that it all feels like bandaging the wounds of a dying man.

Perhaps it is true that you can only see Aetherius when the sky is darkest however, for there seems no shortage of volunteers arriving to offer their aid to the survivors of Bruma. When our story is done the things we do for ourselves will rot with our carcases; it the things we do for others that paints our souls.

S.K