Finally it is time for me to take my leave of Chief Tazgol and his Stonetooth tribe. Whilst I have certainly come to understand a little more about these Orcs, I’ve not come to like them. But my time with the Orsimer has taught me that you don’t need to like those you work with… or to necessarily trust them it seems.
These Orcs aren’t joining the Covenant because they believe in it, nor like it, nor truly understand it; but because they fear it. Their enmity and mistrust toward both Breton and Redguard weighs heavily upon them, and one day it will crush them, and bring this Covenant crashing down with it. But until then, I’d rather have an Orsimer fighting alongside me, then against.
So long Betnikh… I shan’t be rushing back to your bleak shores any time soon.
Far more than any trait, ability, or rhetoric, It is in the choices that we make that we show who we truly are. What choices did this cultist make for her to be here now, facing my sword. Does she believe her cause truly to be just?
We all make choices, but in the end, it is our choices that make us.
What possible terror could await us under Carzog’s Demise that would rouse even the spirits of the ancient Alyeids?
Deep in the catacombs of Moriseli, the Bloodthorn Priestess and necromancer, Drusilla Nerva, makes her final stand before the alter from where she performed her obscene rituals.
The warrior never stops learning how to fight. From the first time they pick up a sword, till it finally drops from their lifeless grasp, they never stop learning. Every wound is a lesson learnt, and every scar is wisdom earned.
Today I learnt to hold my shield a little higher.