Chapter Three; Cyrodil

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ᑕYᖇOᗪIᒪ. The land of Imperials, home to the imperial city. I remember running through the swampland, and just as I crossed the border, I was surrounded by lush forests, and light green grassy plains. It was different. I was in Black Marsh my whole life, I felt free.
Away from all the Dark Elf slavers. I was free.
The first city I saw was Bravil. I felt safe, within the walls, surrounded by the Niben Bay. I felt like staying there, so I stayed at the local inn. I couldn't fall asleep for a couple of nights. I thought the Dark Elves would come after me.
So I had to find something to keep myself busy.

The inn had a bookshelf near the bar. I found a couple of books that interested me, and went back to my room. I wasn't a real good reader, my Argonian brethren and I were never thought to read, as it wasn't important to them, so I thought myself, although I wasn't that great at it.
The books I had picked up were all about a "Technologically advanced race", known as the Dwemer, or dwarves. This somehow intrigued me, so I stayed up night after night. Reading each book, studying this lost race of people.

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