Name: Rhaak'Vael
Gender: Male
Age: -
Race: Dunmer (Dark Elf)

We believed in happiness and fortune. The Nine weren't the ones who made our crops grow, our children learn, our homes be safe. Everything was simple, yet every morning brought a new possibility for misfortune or luck. It all remained in perfect balance. Until... It all changed. Madness lit the fire to our fields, our homes, our families. As we watched the flames crumble our sanctuary to the ground, the north winds of Tamriel, the gleam of gold in Cyrodiil had us leave Morrowind. My parents knew better. Before the foolish began their riot, I was told the truth of my ancestors. The planes of Oblivion and the affairs of the Daedric Princes were once a vital pillar to my bloodline. As they did spread their blood for their legacy, they did so for the Princes.
"Do not abandon the lords and mistresses who gave us the clear vision of Tamriel's future. Do not insult or turn your side to them who know better than we do. One day when the raging fires and the screeching madness sweeps across the lands of the kings, they know who have always remained loyal to them and acceptable for their plans. Rhaak'Vael, my only son. You may defend the weak and the worthy from the unfairness of the Princes. But do not ignore the reasons they judge and punish us in the first place. Even if you had to stay in your place, and watch."
When I laid my side every night next to my wife, I always remained ready. And when the first fires lit the noon sky, I wasn't grieving. The very first and last tears I shed were by the numb and lifeless body of my love. The last vow I made in Morrowind was by the grave of my dear wife. They were all finished. I had nothing left. Except my loyalty to the lords and mistresses of Oblivion. Not all is fair, when the two kingdoms of gods battle from the faith of their people. The Nine, and the Sixteen Princes of Oblivion.