O hear the ancient whispers of ash and destiny— In the twilight of Morrowind, where legends stir And the heart of Nerevar beats anew. Once, the name of Nerevar rang with honor, A sovereign spirit now reborn in mortal guise, Yet condemned by those who claim divine right. The Tribunal—Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil— With golden tongues and secret dread, Feared the dawning of truth, the rise of a true heir. In shadowed halls of ancient worship, They conspired to silence the prophesied light, To shackle the flame that would unmask their artifice. Amid the rugged wastes of Red Mountain’s looming specter, Where sorrow mingles with hope and the land recalls its glory, The Nerevarine strides—a defiant beacon Against the tyranny of false divinity, Bearing the scars of persecution And the unyielding promise of liberation. Let this hymn resound across blasted plains And echo in the depths of forgotten crypts: The spirit of Nerevar shall not be stilled, For every lie spun by those in power Meets the indomitable truth of a people reborn. In the clash of ancient vows and new resolve, The legacy of Nerevar ignites a storm That will cleanse the ashes and reclaim the soul of the land.
