The servants of red mountain were mostly animated dust forged from the fires of the volcano. Those sleepers who had risen were little more then dust themselves. Their true souls screamed at me from behind their façade, pleading with me to give them peace, to set him free. Their nightmare was eternal, they could not wake up.

These Fabricants that accompanied their forces had no thoughts. One they had been living creatures, but now they were little more than machines; programmed creations of some technology. No souls, no hearts, not even animalistic instinct. The only thing that existed in their minds were the orders give by their masters.

Slowly, I raised Trueflame and now in the hands of it's master the fire blazed brighter than ever, the flames lancing down my arm. The light from the fire bathed the entire arena in illumination, forcing the charging monstrosities to cover their eyes. The light was so intense, even Barlizar who lay injured at my feet was forced to look away. Now they were distracted, I brought the sword down level with my waist before charging, slashing at staggering monsters as I ran;. Each swipe engulfing them in fire, reducing them to charred ashes in moments; freeing the trapped souls. Bolts of magic began hurling through the energy towards me and I double stepped avoiding a head on collision before arching my arm back and firing my own fire ball spell forward. The magicka found it's target and an ascended Sleep was thrown backwards against the side of the arena.

Dagoth Gares screamed and came flying at me, armed with one of the Deadric Claymore's Barlizar had brought. Swinging at me from above, I stopped his blow with Trueflames edge before kicking him aside. Digging his heals into the ground, he shortly came to a stop. His trunk hissed loudly at me.

"You are nothing but a puppet of the false gods." He snarled at me, clenching both hands around the hilt of his sword. "Ours is the true cause of Morrowind. Those who stand against us are an enemy of the Dumner race! Now die enemy of Lord Dagoth!" Our blades clashed again and again, each time a power struggle took place. Dagoth Ur had bestowed this servant with a tremendous amount of his own power, making him my equal in skill. Both in swordsmanship and his magicka. He seemed able to deflect any spell I tossed at him and then launch a counter attack.

Darting to the side, the ash servant narrowly avoided a burning slash before jabbing the point of his sword forward. Kicking him backwards, I charged around his side tryign to cut him across the side. He blocked my swing before trying to toss a bolt of magic at point blank range at me.

At the last second, a dark shape came flying out of the chaos and ran the servant of Red Mountain through with a second claymore. Barlizar took his remaining weapon in both hands and twisted it upwards through the Ash Servants body, trying to cut right through his heart. Dust and ash was leaking out of the wound instead of blood.

Growling, Gares pointed his hand directly at the ancient Lich and fired a bolt of lighting magicka, a potent spell at that. Catching the full length of it, Barlizar screamed. But unfortunately for the Ash servant, he still held onto his sword an the blade acted like a conductor; the electricity passing through it and straight back into it's castor; giving him all the negative effects as well.

The fire of the sword coming to life once more, I smashed at Gares' arm scoring a direct hit; his limb severing itself from the body and landing with a dull thud on the floor; dissipating into dust as soon as it hit.

Screeching, Gares staggering backwards, more ash falling from the jagged stump attached to his torso. Barlizar wrenched himself free, before collapsing to his knees; using his weapon to support his weight.

Darting behind the Ash Servant, I wasted no words; instead I simply thrust the tip of Trueflame through his body, it's fire igniting his entire form. The Sleeper screamed as the fire burned his flesh, blackening his skin. The fire of the sword was not that of heat, but of purify flames. Bit by bit, they were destroying the corruption of the Red Mountain. His body was slowly crumbling before me. Too much of him had been consumed by the madness of Dagoth Ur to be saved.

But very quickly the screams turned to fits of insane an uncontrollable laugher. With a sickening crack, his entire head turned around backwards to face me. His face, or rather what as left of it set in a sickening grin. "Even as my Master wills, you will come to him as his flesh and of his flesh!" With that, his body broke down into tiny pieces that scattered into the air his laughter still echoing with them, Before I could stop myself, I breathed them him. The effect was almost instantaneous.

Pain unlike anything I'd ever experience fell over me. My skin began to boil and by sight whirled sickeningly. Unable to find the strength to keep myself on my feet, I collapsed to the floor; Trueflame falling from my side.

"Lord Neravar!" Sul cried, despite his injury hurrying to my side. Barlizar heaved himself back to his feet, before sheathing his weapon across his back. Turning, he looked over towards where Gares had dropped the Deadric Claymore he took from him. Reaching out with an outstretched hand, he retracted back to him with a telekinesis spell.

He watched as I lay on the ground, my golden skin slowly being overtaken by the unstoppable march of the Corpus disease crossing over my body. All the while outside the Robot Arena, the already terrified people of Mournhold looked up towards the skies as they began to darken. With intense fear, they watched as the heavens turned blood red and Ash storms only found in Vvardenfell itself began howling around them.

With howls that echoed through the streets, monsters, Sleepers, Ash Servants began pouring out of the wood work all over Morrowind; attacking the already exhausted Imperial Garrison troops. The could be no denying it now. The Sixth House, the long forgotten faction of the Dumner had returned and Dagoth ur; the devil himself was emerging from the pits of Red Mountain.


Neravar paused, the tip of his quill just above the parchment. The Chimer hesitated before retracting his writing tool and leaning back in his chair. The Dumner Amila stood beside him. Up until now she had been intently engrossed in the story he had been telling and looked confused that he had stopped.

"What's wrong?" She asked, putting a hand on his far shoulder. As if looking for inspiration, Neravar looked up towards the display on the wall in front of his desk. Laid in an 'X' shape with a shield in the middle were the two elemental blades, Hopesfire and Trueflame; their fires burning in harmoniously unity. Then he golden skinned general shook his head and leaned on the arm rest of his chair.

"There's a gap." He began thoughtfully.

"A gap?" Amila repeated, before glancing over his work herself. "What gap?"

"Corpus disease had been bed ridden for days." He explained. "And a lot of important stuff happened in that time that I was not there for." Amila's expression turned to a flat one.

"So, you know what happened; write it in." She began. Neravar shook his head again.

"I told the story from the first person perspective. It wouldn't work if I suddenly start writing it from someone else's point of view." He sighed irritably. "Maybe I should just shelf it for now. I was never that good a story teller anyway." he made a move to wrap up the parchment. Amila slapped his hand down.

"Oh no you don't!" She proclaimed, looking him directly in the face. "You started this thing, now you finish it."

"Well, perhaps you'd like to fill in the final gaps." Indorial invited, offering her the quill.

"Fine…I will." Amila snapped, pushing him out of the way and got into the chair herself. "Now let a real storyteller let you show it's done!"