An Imperial reporter is assigned to cover news stories and events in Morrowind, inadvertently finding danger, adventure, and an unassuming Argonian who may or may not be the so-called "Nerevarine." Story updates every Sunday!
I passed the silt strider port once again on my way out of town. Another 10 septims to travel to Balmora. It was still early in the day, I was in a hurry and figured I could cover the ground quicker on my own two feet than the giant wandering bug could. After all, Arrille had made the route to Balmora seem gentle enough.
I needed to experience the land anyways. Get a feel for the island now that I was away from civilization.
As I walked up the hill north of town I saw Fargoth still rummaging through the grasses and weeds looking his damn right.
"Hey, Clyde. Where is my ring? I can't find it anywhere."
"Oh. Did I say it was up here? I meant to say it was near the swamp. You know, down by the lighthouse or something.
He scowled at me. "Did you lie to me?"
"No, of course not. I've had quite a bit to drink the past few days. Sometimes I get myself mixed up. Sujamma does that to you."
"Hrrmph!" he said. With his arms crossed he started walking back down the path heading south towards town and the swap.
The road wound to the northeast with a few signs dotting any junction on the road. Vivec, this way, Pelagiad and Balmora, that way. I snaked along with the mountains to my left and Vivec City, the hellish holy city, in the distance off to my right. It still had the splendor it did a few days ago when I had first seen it across the water from Ebonheart, but this splendor was corrupted because I had actually set foot in the city and knew it for the shithole that it was.
Pelagiad appeared around the corner and seemed to be a cute and typical Imperial town out in the frontier. Trees, shrubs, and flowers dotted the landscape as the fort rose on the eastern side of the town. The road I was on creeped back around to the northwest and branched off to the east leading directly into Pelagiad. I was tempted to stop and see what the town was all about, but appeared sleepy enough to forget about. I could always visit later when I didn't have prey to stalk. The Argonian, whoever he was, was most likely in Balmora and needed to be found.
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The road curved back to the north around a lake, and according to my map the lake must be Lake Amaya.
The path branched again leading north by one route and west by the other. According to the sign placed at the intersection, I turned west towards Balmora.
The scenery quickly changed and I traveled the road. The trees, shrubs, and flowers gave way to a stark volcanic greyness as I walked through a pass in the rocks. This must be the 'foyada' as Arrille had mentioned: large lava channels that had formed from the many eruptions of the island's dominant geological feature Red Mountain.
No life existed in the foyada as the path turned north to follow the gorge. Dead trees and naked shrubs were the only signs of life that I could see. Volcanic mountains rose on either side of the narrow road heading up the channel. Sharp rocks required me to carefully pick my steps and slowed me down; the traveling was rough at this point. It reminded me of walking up a creekbed from my home back in Cyrodiil, except the rocks hadn't been smoothed by the flow of water. If anything the flows of lava had made them sharper and more hazardous to traverse.
