Scene #3070: Storytime with the Nerevarine

Owner	Pose
Ainsley	Ainsley would have met the Nerevarine at the front door, the modernly-dressed lizard woman inviting him into the very pleasant home through the swinging door into the kitchen. The smell of baked goods fills the kitchen, with chocolate and some local varieties of fruit being the main scents in the mix. As Ainsley leads him through the room, she pulls out a chair for him politely, her tail perking and a big smile showing on her expressive face. "Have a seat," she offers in her soft voice, which is far more pleasant to the ear than any Argonian voice he may be familiar with. She then goes over to one of the counters in the kitchen area and pulls out a few plates of baked goods. There's little flaky ones, there's cookies, there's a plate of brownies, there's a whole pie... She sets them down on the table, and all the stuff he needs to get his own. Then she'd find her seat and rest her hands in her lap. Her excited tail wiggles behind her. "I make a lot of these for the farmer's markets around the valley," she explains. "Go ahead~"
Nerevarine	Horses. The Nerevarine hates horses. They ride too high, they're too temperamental, too skittish. The guar is a much better animal for riding, but sadly not suited to as many environments as horses are. A few days of adventuring can get one a suitable horse in Tamriel--there's always a blacksmith interested in an enchanted sword, a scholar interested in some Dwemer artifact of nebulous purpose and indeterminate usefulness. Horses have always been something unfamiliar and alien to him, even though he's been away from home for nearly two centuries now, even though he's owned several in that time. They always remind him of how wherever he is, he's not home. He arrives at Ainsley's residence to meet her at the front door. She didn't sound like an Argonian over the radio. The golden visage of Indoril Nerevar on his helmet matches his; an expression of scrutiny and perhaps disapproval. He follows her inside, ebony mace bouncing gently at his hip as he walks. When offered a seat, he takes it, removing his helmet and setting it gently aside. His black hair falls gracefully about his face as the helmet rises, and he takes a moment to brush it aside. "Thank you for your hospitality, outlander."
Ainsley	"'Outlander'," Ainsley repeats, thoughtfully, the word momentarily throwing her off. She places her hand to her cheek. Compared to an Argonian, she is... probably somewhat pleasant to look at. She's not bumpy in the slightest, and she possesses a lot more feathers. She has no horns, and the colors on her are more vibrant, like a jungle reptile, or perhaps a variety of amphibian. She smiles at him even though he seems somewhat gruff at her, and her waggling tail doesn't stop doing the wiggling. "Begin your story at your leisure. Or don't. Snacks are always a good reason to meet up," she says, as she pulls a cookie off of one of the plates and takes a bite out of it, carefully chewing it.
Nerevarine	While Talis isn't... unpleasant to look at, he is certainly very different from a human--perhaps as much as Ainsley is. His skin is an ashen, gray color, and his eyes are an alarming, almost baleful red. His facial features are rather severe, with a brow seemingly made for furrowing, a sharp chin, and a nose pointed downwards in an accusing kind of way. His hair is medium-length, long enough to get in the way, but not so long that it can be bound in a ponytail. He is a prime example of the Dunmer people, especially with his dour demeanor. "Where to begin depends on how much you know of Tamriel's history. You know about our level of... what is it the Dwemer call it?" He pauses. "Technology. But what do you know of Morrowind specifically? Of the Dunmer?"
Ainsley	"The Dunmer, sometimes oft called Dark Elves by others, are mer folk of the country of Morrowind. Morrowind is a diverse region known for its unmatched volcanic activity and bizarre animal life..." Ainsley seems to be reciting this off of memory, listing off notes on her fingers. Her eyes have gone up to the ceiling. "Morrowind's settlements are controlled by the Houses... Overall, it is fairly similar to other regions in level of technology, though there are advances in metallurgy and agriculture that other regions have not yet mastered... Ahh, the processing of ebony, for instance?" Ainsley shrugs at him. "Mostly from records. I have never visited the area myself. I think they would not react kindly to someone that looks like an Argonian."
Nerevarine	Talis takes a cookie. "They wouldn't. Espcially not after you--" He stops himself before his accusation is complete, but doesn't bother to apologize for the verbal misstep. "Especially not after /they/ invaded. Revenge for years of slavery, perhaps." The Nerevarine eats his cookie, with a certain measured way that suggests a disciplined upbringing. "But the beast races aren't the only ones who receive a cold welcome. Any outlander is probably going to receive a cool reception at best, until they can prove they deserve our respect." "Have you read much history?" Talis presents her with his right hand. Moon-and-Star gleams in the light for a moment, the ring still in good condition after two centuries of use. "Do you know the significance of this ring?"
Ainsley	"When I was researching your world, my priorities were in language and magic, so I am afraid I know very little of..." Ainsley hesitates and leans in to get a look at the ring. Seems she glossed over the verbal misstep easily. She gives the ring some close scrutiny. "This is the symbology of Azura, but..." She straightens her back and crosses her arms. "Hrn."
Nerevarine	"That it is." His recognition is almost bitter, as if he wished it weren't so. "She plays a large part in my story, or perhaps I play a part in hers. Everyone is a part of her plan... whether they like it or not." Talis leans back in his seat, and finishes his cookie. "You know of Morrowind, but not its history. My story has much to do with the history of Morrowind, and that's how I shall tell it. You know that Morrowind is ruled by the Great Houses. But we didn't always live there, and we weren't always so different from the other races of mer. Once we were Altmer, but we saw their society for the decadent mire it is and sought to live a more virtuous life. From then we were called Chimer, the Changed Folk." "Under Saint Veloth's guidance, and with help from the three 'Good' Daedra... hmph." He takes a moment to snort at that appelation. "With help from Azura, Boethiah, and Mephala, the ancient Chimer left Somerset Isle for the promised land of Resdayn--Morrowind. Some of them settled the land. Others preferred to live off of it. These two groups became the Ashlanders and the Great Houses--but Morrowind was not theirs alone."
Ainsley	"The Dwemer already lived there," Ainsley intuits from the story and context and what little she knows, "As they did everywhere else in the northern areas of Tamriel." Mostly as a prompt to show she's paying attention, she smiles at him after she says this and patiently waits for him to continue. She even leans in and grabs another cookie to chew on.
Nerevarine	"Indeed they did." "There is precious little information about the Dwemer in today's world. Most of the first hand accounts come from Dunmer culture, however, and that is no accident. In those days, the Chimer loved the Good Daedra and worshipped them as gods. The Dwemer mocked them, and, as Lord Vivec said, preferred instead their gods of Reason and Logic. They were always at war with one another, until the savage barbarian Nords came and invaded. Only faced with this threat did they unite--thanks to the Dwemer king Dumac, and the Chimer general Nerevar." Talis pauses. "Do those names sound familiar to you?"
Ainsley	"Only vaguely," Ainsley replies, in a soft tone of voice once she finishes off the latest cookie. She smiles in an apologetic way at him. "I know the word 'Nerevarine,' but..." She trails off. She really didn't do much history study.
Nerevarine	"Do you, now?" Talis chuckles. "That makes things a little easier. The peace lasted, until Dagoth Ur of House Dagoth, a loyal friend of Nerevar's, discovered that the Dwemer priest Kagrenac was planning to use the Heart of Lorkhan, quite literally the heart of a god, to build--to construct--a god for the Dwemer. He told Nerevar, who investigated, and was troubled by what he found." His face hardens. It's a negative expression, but what is it? Anger? Sadness? Bitterness? "Nerevar went to Holamaya, a sacred temple of Azura, and spoke with her. Of course, because she was jealous and fearful of anything that might take the spotlight from her, she told him the truth. And she also told him that, at all costs, the Dwemer had to be stopped from building Numidium. It is of course an extremely powerful weapon--one that the Empire benefitted greatly from, after a way was fashioned to power it without the Heart. But was it true? Or was that statement simply another lie told to advance her holdings? Everyone who might have known is long dead by now--this was thousands of years ago." "The Chimer and the Dwemer went to war, with the Chimer naming Nerevar the Hortator--the leader of the Great Houses' combined armies. Nerevar was a Houseman, but he also had the allegiance of the Ashlander tribes, who saw him as one of their own and fought with the Great Houses against the Dwemer at Red Mountain. One clan, under Moon and Star." He taps Moon-and-Star gently. "Nerevar, Dagoth Ur, and a small squad of trusted soldiers breached the Heart Chamber, where the Heart of Lorkhan was being kept. Nerevar and Dumac clashed to a standstill, and the tonal priest Kagrenac used his tools upon the heart in a desperate attempt for victory. In an instant, he, Dumac, and all of their armies vanished."
Ainsley	"And the Dwemer ruins remain in Tamriel to this day," Ainsley follows up, her voice soft... "Gods are not so easy to construct, it seems. The Dwemer paid a very heavy price for that... an entire people, gone...?" She rubs the back of her head.
Nerevarine	"All but one. That, however, is a story all in itself." Talis peers at the tray of brownies, apparently not familiar with them. That Ainsley baked all of these just for one guest--and a guest that wasn't even very polite to begin with, isn't lost on him. He takes a corner piece and has an experimental nibble at it. He doesn't seem to mind it. "Dagoth Ur thought that Kagrenac's Tools should be destroyed. Nerevar wasn't so sure, and so decided to confer with his advisors, the Tribunal. Dagoth Ur was ordered to remain in the Heart Chamber with the tools, until Nerevar returned with the Tribunal." "Dagoth thought that the Dwemer had been destroyed--Nerevar and the Tribunal thought that they had been made immortal. The Tribunal proposed they be used for the betterment of the Chimer people, and so Nerevar went back to Red Mountain. Nerevar had grave misgivings, but agreed--provided the Tribunal swear upon Azura that they would never use the tools as Kagrenac had. They agreed. Upon their return, Dagoth Ur had been driven mad by the tools, or perhaps by the Heart. Perhaps he had learned their use in secret and thought that only he should have them, or perhaps he believed only he could be trusted with them. Either way, there was violence, Dagoth and his retainers were driven off, and Nerevar died. For a time the Tribunal honored their oath, and kept the tools safe--but Sotha Sil discovered the secret behind their use." "With a vision of prosperity for commoners and justice and honor for nobles, the Tribunal used Kagrenac's Tools to become living gods. On that day, Azura appeared and cursed them for breaking Nerevar's oath, jealous and petty as she was. The Chimer then became the Dunmer, and she cryptically said that the fate of the Dunmer would be entwined with the fate of the Tribunal. It was likely more of her vague nonsense."