Navigation© The Imperial Library. All rights reserved. |
Foresworn NoteMatriarch, we await your orders. Our blades are honed, our quivers full, our wills steeled for battle. The time of our waiting has ended. The time for battle is at hand. You have but to speak the word, and the occupiers shall fall like wheat before the reaper.
|
Search"You wonder where the Dwemer have gone? Perhaps better to wonder why one remains." |