PROLOGUE
I knew this would end up badly.
But my superiors didn't listen.
By the beginning of year 272 I had become part of an expedition force that landed in Solstheim organized by the Temple, House Redoran and House Indoril. Our superiors came into possession of documents proving that on this island is the location of Nchardak, the fabled City of a Thousand Towers and one of the leading Dwemer city-factories. Claiming an ancient ruin capable of producing automatons would surely end the Akaviri Invasion, claimed our leaders. But as soon as we landed in the southern part of the isle, we knew, that this expedition was made out of desperation, rather than careful planning.
But my superiors didn't listen.
By the beginning of year 272 I had become part of an expedition force that landed in Solstheim organized by the Temple, House Redoran and House Indoril. Our superiors came into possession of documents proving that on this island is the location of Nchardak, the fabled City of a Thousand Towers and one of the leading Dwemer city-factories. Claiming an ancient ruin capable of producing automatons would surely end the Akaviri Invasion, claimed our leaders. But as soon as we landed in the southern part of the isle, we knew, that this expedition was made out of desperation, rather than careful planning.
I was lost in the whiteout. This was the end of me, but instead of lying down and dying I kept walking. After gods knew how many hours I stumbled onto something that changed my life. There was a Nord, who was pretty badly injured, lying around three dead giant bears. Really, really giant bears. The Nord, was bleeding and holding his belly, but I noticed that his insides were just about to fall out of his stomach. He should be dead, but instead he only replied: "There's a village nearby, help me out and I will help you out". I don't know what happened afterwards. Last thing I remember I woke in a shack, covered in blood markings and the Nord whom I helped was taking care of me. He said that I would have died out of cold anyways, but thankfully he knew some special rite that would heal me completely. He forgot to mention that he turned me into a werewolf, when I was in a coma for a month.
In time he introduced himself as Ragnar White-Eyes, a Skaal and last of the Bloodmoon pack. He explained to me about the Gift of Hircine and how I should prepare for the Great Hunt. He claimed that the Tribe were descendants of the first werewolves Hircine had ever created and it was their duty to guard the werewolves of Nirn when the Great Hunt came upon us. But that was distant past. Holy relics of the Tribe and Firstborn of Hircine were lost to inner strives, wars and invasion of Nords and Snow Elves of the distant past. He claimed that the time of the Great Hunt was coming, and soon werewolves will be again fighting amongst themselves rather than hunting as a whole pack. I didn't believe him, but I remained with him for almost a decade – I knew I was proclaimed dead and my sudden return would mean I deserted, so I had no other choice back then. All changed, when we were ambushed, when we were returning from the Skaal Village. There were five of them, blue in colors with a golden lion on their chests.
"Give us the totems old man" they snarled. There was no other option but to defend ourselves. In the end we were victorious, but Ragnar fell in battle. When I attempted to bury him near his shack I heard him for the very first time.
"There will be a war between the Lion, the Eagle and the Dragon mortal" he said in his commanding voice "In the end, only one of them will be hosting the Great Hunt. Alas, the Dragon is weak, my children scattered and legacy of the Firstborn all but forgotten. Underneath your mentor's housing there is a buried chest, in which you'll find few of my trinkets to help you find others. Unite them, and reform the Bloodmoon Tribe, Alpha."
And here I am, after eight years of solitude heading towards the mainland of Morrowind with nothing but a chest full of books and artifacts intended to restore a lost legacy. Twice-damned, fallen from grace, but favoured by the Huntsman himself. I will endure, Bloodmoon Tribe will endure.
Helseth Sarethi, 27th of Sun's Dawn, year 280 of Second Era.
