The Year 2920 , Vol . 4 Content . 2920 : The Last Year of the First Era By Carlovac Townway 3 Sun ' s Dawn The Isle of Artaeum , Summerset Sotha Sil watched the initiates float one by one up to the oassom tree , taking a fruit or a flower from its high branches before dropping back to the ground with varying degrees of grace . He took a moment to admire the day . The whitewashed statue of Syrabane , which the great mage was said to have posed for in ancient days , stood at the precipice of the cliff overlooking the bay . Beyond , ocean , and the misty border between Artaeum and the main island of Summerset . " By and large , acceptable , " he proclaimed as the last student dropped her fruit in his hand . With a wave of his hand , the fruit and flowers were back in the tree . With another wave , the students had formed into position in a semicircle around the sorcerer . He pulled a small fibrous ball , about a foot in diameter from his white robes . " What is this ? " The students understood this test . It asked them to cast a spell of identification on the mysterious object . Each initiate closed his or her eyes and imagined the ball in the realm of the universal Truth . Its energy had a unique resonance as all physical and spiritual matter does , a negative aspect , a duplicate version , relative paths , true meaning , a song in the cosmos , a texture in the fabric of space , a facet of being that has always existed and always will exist . " A ball , " said a young Nord named Welleg , which brought giggles from some of the younger initiates , but a frown from most , including Sotha Sil . " If you must be stupid , at least be amusing , " growled the sorcerer , and then looked at a young , dark - haired Altmer lass who looked confused . " Lilatha , do you know ? " " It ' s grom , " said Lilatha , uncertainly . " What the dreugh meff after they ' ve k - k - kr - krevinasim . " " Karvinasim , but very good , nonetheless , " said Sotha Sil . " Now , tell me , what does that mean ? " " I don ' t know , " admitted Lilatha . The rest of the students also shook their heads . " There are layers to understanding all things , " said Sotha Sil . " The common man looks at an object and fits it into a place in his way of thinking . Those skilled in the Old Ways , in the way of the Psijic , in Mysticism , can see an object and identify it by its proper role . But one more layer is needed to be peeled back to achieve understanding . You must identify the object by its role and its truth and interpret that meaning . In this case , this ball is indeed grom , which is a substance created by the dreugh , an underwater race in the north and western parts of the continent . For one year of their life , they undergo karvinasim when they walk upon the land . Following that , they return to the water and meff , or devour the skin and organs they needed for land - dwelling . Then they vomit it up into little balls like this . Grom . Dreugh vomit . " The students looked at the ball a little queasily . Sotha Sil always loved this lesson . 4 Sun ' s Dawn , 2920 The Imperial City , Cyrodiil " Spies , " muttered the Emperor , sitting in his bath , staring at a lump on his foot . " All around me , traitors and spies . " His mistress Rijja washed his back , her legs wrapped around his waist . When he was in a mood like this , it was best to be calmly , soothingly , seductively sensual . And not to say a word unless he asked her a direct question . Which he did : " What do you think when a fellow steps on his Imperial Majesty ' s foot and says ' I ' m sorry , Your Imperial Majesty ' ? Don ' t you think ' Pardon me , Your Imperial Majesty ' is more appropriate ? ' I ' m sorry , ' well , that almost sounds like the bastard Argonian was sorry I am his Imperial Majesty . That he hopes we lose the war with Morrowind , that ' s what it sounds like . " " What would make you feel better ? " asked Rijja . " Would you like him flogged ? He is only , as you say , the Battlechief of Soulrest . It would teach him to mind where he ' s stepping . " " My father would have flogged him . My grandfather would have had him killed , " the Emperor grumbled . " But I don ' t mind if they all step on my feet , provided they respect me . And don ' t plot against me . " " You must trust someone . " " Only you , " smiled the Emperor , turning slightly to give Rijja a kiss . " And my son Juilek , I suppose , though I wish he were a little more cautious . " " And your council , and the Potentate ? " asked Rijja . " A pack of spies and a snake , " laughed the Emperor , kissing his mistress again . He whispered , " As long as you ' re true , I can handle the world . " 13 Sun ' s Dawn , 2920 Mournhold , Morrowind Turala stood at the black , bejeweled city gates . A wind howled around her , but she felt nothing . The Duke had been furious upon hearing his favorite mistress was pregnant and cast her from his sight . She tried again and again to see him , but his guards turned her away . Finally , she returned to her family and told them the truth . If only she had lied and told them she did not know who the father was . A soldier , a wandering adventurer , anyone . But she told them that the father was the Duke , a member of the House Indoril . And they did what she knew they would have to do , as proud members of the House Redoran . Upon her hand was burned the sign of Expulsion her weeping father had branded on her . But the Duke ' s cruelty hurt her far more . She looked out the gate and into the wide winter plains . Twisted , sleeping trees and skies without birds . No one in Morrowind would take her in now . She must go far away . With slow , sad steps , she began her journey .