Morrowind
Testimony of the Sharmat _Part III

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Love Letter




"Anything taken by force wouldn't last long. So he says."

"As though the Empire would die soon and give up milking our homeland out of its marrow and bone." Dagoth Ur disagrees.

"Godhood, or power, can not and will not change the Great Map," Claims Merethid, "You've got to let the wheel itself spin...,"

"You do have a noble goal, but mad enough, no sane and sensible souls will approve of your methodology. Your doings would cause massive grief only second to the eruption of Red Mountain itself. Don't you expect a Walking Star could shine against the Firmament?"

"Pain and struggle take a vital part of Velothi Enlightenment, negative? New God or Daedra? What's the difference? Don't you pilgrims and ashfolks alike all agree there must be sufferings to mourn? Action always engineers keener than hollow prophecies."

"That's why the Heroes and Sharmat exist. Same like you...my mundane mind, filled with blurred memories, won't get it over or let go of it. Not a little bit, with anguish. We all wanted to save Morrowind, once and for all."

"You've heard my old story. You know you won't change a thing, either. All your actions here will end up in vain. How can you play any part of it if you could not face the Music and blow through it? There's no escape. Dream is the only way."


"I will be there just watch, and TEND. The tide can make heroes, but also could render them undone. I try not to be the pretend prophesied Nerevar-Born-Again to stop you as a so-called whatsoever pawn, even nobody believe such an n'wah might be capable to. Please quit underestimating my love toward the people of Morrowind. Nevertheless I would defend any whom I name friend, from the jaws of Oblivion or your Blight at any cost, especially other Tamrielic citizens you so despise. I, merely a Stranger, an outlander who seek a peaceful life here, and as a messenger...

"Thus here I came, wanted to talk more to you." She adds. "Before...the last breath. Just like what you did eons ago."

"Why? Once Luhn-Silvar wannabe though minus the artefact," Dagoth with a jolly but incredible unearthly voice, "Art thou some sort of mabrigash? Foreign witch with suicidal crafts? I's not sure I appreciate thy pity."

"Call me Merethid. As I honor your testimony of the past. Or you would rather know my Ashlander alias—not interested, hmm?"

"House folk was I, mind you." The Devil God of Flesh Dream, Sharmat to all the living, totally soften like marshmerrow.

"That's why you come unprepared. So what really brings you here, Merethid? You deserve my full attention. For you have some qualities I valued."

"For greater banger. Resonance. Supposed to bring a special message to you. A Memory from the Future. Maybe slightly deviated by me, of course:"


"Voryn, my friend,

I thought you could be mad, driven by sorrows and regrets. No, you are like ghosts in silt strider shells, enthusiastically filling the crazy world with your red passion, destined to build a worthy watchful tender for this hopeless land. Unlike the Dwemer, you honor the Heart and its power with fear more than anyone else, maybe that's why the Heart chose you.

Are we really on the road Saint Veloth once lightened for us? I ask myself for eternity. Every time I remind myself of the once glorious Mora Vvynth, now in ruins, the way the Chimer better ourselves in chivalric virtues. Every moment I see a deceased mortal gone lifeless in perplexity and anguish. I always think of you, my loyalest arm-brother. No doubt you know it better than us all, you used to be the most selfishless amongst the company. Resdaynia was a good dream, my old friend.
O
f Ash And Brother, I'm always very glad to have you along. Voryn, together our eternal bond shall speak for the Law and the Land. Free us from the circle and save our worlds.

—Indoril Nerevar, now of Nerevarium, 4E 212"

The golden mask shines so brightly against the Red Sun, that the Crimson Mist in the air couldn't hide its eagerness expressed within.

It's a great and strange Time, everyone is freed from their false natural faces and communicate with their truthful inner souls.


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"Meaning no disrespect, alas, my personal, unbridled thought," Dagoth Ur poses nothing but still, apparently deep in thinking without a slightest reaction. As if in his dream. "You strayed from whom you really were like the others. Zoned and stuck in superposed state for millenniums." She says.

"No more judgement and naming us devil? Even we've gone this far?" Speaks Voryn.

"Neither. As Lord Nerevar wishes." She coughs again, this time with blood. "He knows everything about the spark of Hope. As a Hortator should."


Lord Voryn Dagoth has finally recovered his own honor, if not for eons thoroughly every possibility in the Elder Scrolls combined.


"Granted, as a god of hospitality, Merethid my friend," He talks Inner-Sealy calmly, "Welcome to Morrowind, the Age of Rising. I needn't know how you got into this mess, but I wonder what happened when House Dagoth failed in your time? At the end of the Era."

"Morrowind got destroyed, if not utterly, after a decade of 'peace' and disaters. From the threats of cosmic forces you know very well. The Houses barely survived, evacuated to other lands, scattered. Most Dunmer reverted all the way back to ancient nomadic life similar to Ashlanders', worshipping the old Good Daedra with the New Temple and forever again threatened by plots and ashes." She pauses, coughs a bit, "It's not too bad at all, for picking up what exactly Saint Veloth taught, the journey just turned a bit too long and superstitious. But the friends and the people I knew had died along with what used to make Morrowind great, the core of communities wrecked, the dreams of prosperity became the past, the source of power and its magicka to the land vanished forever. Then the world shall fall some time later, since there's glorious Morrowind no more to play its crucial role. In the dahrkness I finally found Nerevar's soul."

"He didn't betray you. He promised you he will return, in response to how you've stayed. He will rise from the ashes again."

Another long silence between the Stranger and the Sharmat.


"What are you going to do if I remove your Corprus?"

"Well, thank you and live a life?" She replies, "However, as I said, we will be still at war. Can't affort your kin hurting the innocents off my tending."

"Fair enough. Kill them or what not, they won't care. For that my blessing is the best salvation, beyond life and death, true freedom for all."

"I don't really expect anything else from you. I'm ready to die for Morrowind."

"Then you won't die that easily. Anyway, been a good talk for ages. I see why you could be chosen too, that no one would ever dare to face me like this. Indeed, the most merciful soul ever sighted in my third eye. King of the Mountain material, you have Nerevar's Love."

"You have my gratitude. But what about Almalexia, the Lady of Mercy?" Can't help ask slyly.

"Not your own business."

"Looks like I finally witness the true Dagoth, Voryn himself."

Voryn, once a mortal, hides his poker face uncomfortably behind the mask of a god again, unwilling to answer. Everyone has a secret in the past.

Merethid does know she shouldn't dig any deeper into the matter of the Hortator family. Voryn seems to be such an extreme loyal sort, that he could do anything for his Lord, being a mer or a god.

"You have heard enough what you should."

"Aren't you atleast thankful?" She feebly but playfully winks. The quest is done, so as the journey.

She is dying. Again coughs hard immediately due to the Divine Disease.

She has been fighting back all the negative symptoms in unnatural way and the flames in her could kill a god.

"Pity, this abomination before you has been no longer the mortal Voryn but a Sharmat. Our ways parted long since the triune's ascension. Although we wouldn't get along with each other forever, I can lend you a hand on your way out. Am I a merciful god as well?"


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"Done. Take this gift from a thankful once renowned sorcerer." A vial, labelled Elixir of Bitter Chaos. "Is Nerevar...doing well?"

"He shall be fine, out of this Time, whenever Morrowind is truly freed." She adds, "He has a strong faith in your stubborn."

Voryn laughs a precious second and peers far at the unfinished Akulakhan behind him with his third eye, "Then so be it,"

"The message has been delivered. You and I have nothing more to say, be gone now before I, Dagoth Ur, change my mind."

His minions step forward in guarding stances. The Sharmat then shifts back to his normal self, the insane god of the sleepers.



"We can do better than that. That's why we serve, faithfully after our own heart, and people. —Indoril Nerevar"


The inner soul of mortal Voryn filling whose mind with the hearty quote Nerevar said to his friend, rests in peace forever without Thrum.


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Merethid kneels down, knowing what's in the Elixir, but her mortal body cannot stand the Corprus and the magicka poison caused by her oversuppression negative effects of the divine disease at the same time any longer.

Perhaps, the next Nerevarine she had taught well so far may will rise and complete the Prophecies. Her mission is done.

She drinks the 'present' as the Ghost Fence vanishes from her sight toward west. Drowsy, heading to Tel Fyr in worst case.

Before she can cast a Scroll of Almsivi Intervention the last minute, Merethid passes out into the Void, on a remote nameless island beyond Azura's Coast.



Timeless. Emptyness. Nothingness. Dahrkness.



"Is this the feeling how a daedra being banished?"



A glimpse of Baar Dau being slinged to Vvardenfell. And then being stopped. Paused.



"Does everthing start with Love?"



T E N D



"The Dream is the door, the Star is the key."



---

"Unexpectable," the talking one is some well-dressed Khajiit, "This one has never dreamed of this quest before. An ever free soul she is now. She also changed her identity fearing to be recognized by M'Aiq the Omnipresent, Everywhere-At-Once. Transcended again, hasn't she? This raceless human, err...hu-woman? Nomer? Used to play death more than a couple of times. M'Aiq knows waterwalking, and will move her to a safer isle only M'Aiq and an equally crazy theurgist knows. Maybe khajiit will be rewarded another fine dinner later."

3 comments

  1. freakuac
    freakuac
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    Previously:

    Confession of Nerevar - a tri-part "prequel-epilogue" feat. Nerevar
    False Reincarnate - an unexpected encounter w/ Vivec
    Testimony of the Sharmat _Part I  - Waking Dreams
    Testimony of the Sharmat _Part II - Godkiller's Fate
    Testimony of the Sharmat _Part III - Love Letter

    Merethid's profile

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    Nerevar knows The Sixth House Dagoth will not prevail (=/=fail), his message was meant for salvation, not to change his fate or plan.

    Actually the Elixir works like a Red Pill (and may have other use for the future :/), obviously muti-Daedric Princes or even Aedra-involved, imbued by the Heart's power to extract the drinker from the mutual limiting boundaries between Oblivion planes and mundane worlds, pulling Merethid from Waking Dream(current alternate MW) in Dream(Godhead) all the way out to an unmanifested facet, the Void, a blank canvas.

    No one knows what happened then except me, the player, just like those years in my empty decade 2012-2021 without MW. Like Logan's Carousel! :D

    As for the sorta abrupt early English (I know) spoken by Dagoth Ur , considering the entire conversations should be actually Dunmeris, it could be Ur trying to speak in his older Chimeri tongue, to hide his ashamed mortal emotion. (Actually, some MW book did use it.)

    Though I didn't renew my save again at this point(Journal_A2_3) yet, I guess it will suffer restartitis one day when I switch to OpenMW or other TES games' MW mods for some reason unforeseeable. But I believe this new universe(save) from 2022 will keep existing so long as I can play the game anytime.

    Bless the new annus and pray, please make a good wish to a peaceful end of the Red Years in reality for a brighter future.

    ---

    TEND is my headcanon thing on a par with CHIM or Sharmat's False Dream (anti-CHIM). A third way to 'metagame' the Godhead's Dream(prime). There involves with my personal view of modding ecosystem of computer games where Mod Authors(MAs) should be also considered "gods" like Developers(DEVs), despite the legality. In short, Mod Authors are like Daedric Princes. They are true gods as well behind a moddable game after the world have been created by original DEVs(Aedra). The architects built it, then the MAs(or content creators such as writers), Good or Bad, keep it alive. Officially or not.

    ChIM (Psijic Endeavor) describes the first steps how a virtual NPC becomes a living god themselves, playing and modding and walking their lucid game world (w/ i.e. console commands), though still inside the frame of Godhead's Dream (the hardcoded game). The catch is CHIM seems very individual, and has its limits. You(if you were the NPC) still must obey the laws(codes) even you achieved CHIM. The only way to get to the highest Enlightenment/Amaranth can be really difficult. It's more like to develop/build a new game on your own to replace the old, to become a godhead yourself. However we haven't counted the Hero/Player factor into the equation. They are so special they can break through the game or dream w/o CHIM.

    Anti-CHIM, the otherwise, negative "I" that sees the Deep, describes how virtual mortals unite to become a sole godly hive mind, like an ultimate AI. The Dwemer exploited this power given by DEVs to jailbreak from the laws, nothing seems to be able to stop them from achieving their Enlightenment, so they got DELETED. Not only due to their arrogance, but also the irony of 'hive-minded individual CHIMs'; But Numidiums are such useful Deus Ex devices to explain everything that you don't need to worry about Dragon Breaks or broken balance. And they barely have too much mundane thoughts. No doubt, they will keep their existence, just very 'subtle'; Dagoth Ur adapted and attuned to the Heart, so he survived and becomes a meme boss. But he can never succeed since MW doesn't provide enough such intrinsic capacity for building(modding) a true AI system in his way. Pity that it will inevitably turn into a wasted dream, all it('endgame') needs is a catalyst to break the circle. There, the Nerevarine, the player, comes in to stop him.

    P.S. IMHO(same applied for all the wall of text, I'm no TESlore expert), the way of Sotha Sil may be kinda between both(just like the Dwemer), where he did care about his people. He built the Clockwork City and pursued a replacement power of Heart(ESO) for mortals, but eventually chose to isolate himself from others.
    Anyway, I would reserve this thought of him for future reference in my headcanon, for I don't have much clear thoughts about Seht and my old memory faded mostly away decade ago I didn't ever work deep in his part. I need time to play more until I fully grasp the full story (in MW & TB & TR & mods).



    Dagoth Ur is destinied to fail (technically). The Player will rise and tend the land, not to beat it and cause the Red Year. It requires the PC(automatically CHIM'd if they read enough ingame) to finish the main quest and complete the hero story by all means, through modding(Daedric Lords' help) or writing(personal dream) or simply imagining. And the key to TEND is also Love (and read), of course.

    To save the beloved people of Morrowind, you can't just be selfishly following the ChIM path and freely modify everything you want. (After all, Wulf, who turned out burntout, faded from the scene in the end.) In roleplaying terms, the characters should have their own minds, can't just break them with forced will. Thus, instead of pure 'singleplaying' I tried to 'borrow & recompose' a 'collaborated multi-canon from MW lovers' ideas especially MAs'. (Still, not considered as true interactive roleplaying with real players. Realistically I doubt it would ever work though if we have to actually communicate with thousands of other Nerevarines aka Morrowinders all over the world for a slice of common truth. We are no hive-minded ascended Dwemer. :)) You want the people of Vvadenfell to live long and prosper, vividly.

    That's why I started from the beginning for celebrating the 20th and my own long return. To make my headcanon as much compatible as possible so that mine won't affect yours but still can somehow inspire or allow some sort of interplay, I hope. Effectively how the real world fictional stuff works among fans.


    TL;DR:

    (notable) Mod Authors = Daedric Princes. They are also 'gods'.

    modding = "change" / Oblivion (and other planes)

    To TEND (your Morrowind) is, to ideally and carefully modify your game to your heart's content with the help of mods, thanks to the creative modding community (padomaic Daedric Princes with their spheres, or minor specialty deities). It's a collaborated endeavor.

    And Voryn, now the Sleeper is truly a Sleeper out of the picture, until the reunion with Nerevar one day. The rest of him in the dream/game is just a souless reflection continuing his unfinished work, forever bound within the Heart.
  2. theeggman99
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    Holy s***, brother...  and I thought I was deep in my head-canon 
    1. freakuac
      freakuac
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      Lol no, bro, how deep it was actually depends on the depth(love) of the reader. Can't expect anyone who doesn't read at all to be thoughtful.