My name is Idas Talbor. I have just celebrated my 137th birthday. Perhaps this is surprising to the Nords among us, many of whom may be unfamiliar with basic facts about the Dunmer. I seek to overcome the ignorance we have of each other. Too long have our races been kept apart by war and hatred; as a young mer, my only knowledge of Nord culture came in the form of curses and stereotypes. I have since come to love Skyrim and her people as well as I love Morrowind and Black Marsh. The Ebonheart Pact is the greatest progress we have made towards overcoming these divisions in remembered history.
Keeping in mind the goal of improved understanding, I would like to tell you a little bit about myself:
I grew up on a small island near Sadrith Mora. My father owned a small plantation surrounding an egg mine. Of course, all the miners were slaves.
The mine made a good amount of money for my family, but my father always had higher aspirations for our name; I was his ticket to reaching those heights. I showed promise in the arcane arts at a very early age and this gave him hope that I could rise through the ranks of House Telvanni. He hired the most prestigious magical tutors in Tamriel to teach me the secrets of the arcane and famous blademasters from Hammerfell came to instruct me in the martial ways of sword play.
The time I spent studying hurt me socially, however. Other Dunmer children teased me for spending too much time with my nose in a book. It never bothered me much though, my best friend was an Argonian slave named Wuleed-kur and his friendship was more than enough for me.
Although I never felt that Telvanni was my calling, I did my best to please my father…until every thing changed.
On the second Sundas of Last Seed in the year CE474, I went to bed nervous, anticipating my meeting with the Telvanni Mouth the next morning. In the middle of the night, I was awoken by the sound of blaring horns and pounding boots running through the compound. I ran to my window in time to see a host of my father’s guards, bows drawn, gaining on a fleeing Argonian who was trying to make his way to the safety of the sea. That Argonian of course, was Wuleed-kur. As soon as Wuleed set foot in the water, a dozen arrows filled his back, piercing his lungs and killing him on the spot.
I think of that night still today. In only a few more moments, Wuleed would have been in the water and, being an accomplished swimmer even by Argonian standards, escape would have been inevitable. Instead, the only friend I ever had lay dead, the blood on my fathers hands. I left the next morning, and not for Sadrith Mora.
I headed west, for no particular reason other than that it was away from my father and the slave loving Telvanni. My mind was not where it should have been, my grief as powerful as it was, and I was not fully aware of my surroundings as I traveled. Not far from the city of Balmora, I was accosted by a band of thieves. At first, I readied my magics and prepared to go down fighting. But being greatly out numbered and greatly disillusioned with life on Tamriel, I instead sunk to me knees and spoke these words:
"I will offer no struggle thieves, so long as you promise me that you will take not just my possessions, but also my life."
The bandit nearest to me raised his bonemold bow, ready to fulfill my request. “STOP!!” The voice was forceful and demanded compliance.
A tall Dunmer male walked towards me. Although he was dressed in the style of the Ashlanders, as were all the rest, his manner of speaking told me that he was a cultured Dunmer.
"I can tell from your clothing that you come from privilege," he said. "Why should a rich young mer such as yourself be traveling unguarded? Better yet, why would you wish to forfeit your life?"
And so I told him about Wuleed. Perhaps I thought my life was coming to an end and I wanted to share my burden before it did. Perhaps I was delusional with pain and weariness. But whatever the reason, I bared my soul to these strangers who meant to kill me. When I was finished the man spoke again:
"Your lack of regard for your own life has just saved it," he whispered to me as he pulled me to my feet. "My name is Enarvy Hlervu and we are Bal Molagmer. Most likely, you have not heard of us but we are an enemy to slavery and your story has touched my heart."
And so it was that my life was saved, in more ways than one. Enarvy brought me to Balmora and introduced me to a few key figures in House Hlaalu. As it turned out, his secretive organization had been looking for a face to openly battle slavery in Morrowind. As a well educated outcast from a wealthy family, I fit the bill.
I climbed the ranks of House Hlaalu quickly, and my skill in battle gave me a talent unique among many Hlaalu. So when the war broke out, who did they have that was better suited to lead an army of House Hlaalu on the field of battle? No one.