Journal of a Redoran Soldier
By Unknown

[The following entry is from the journal of a Redoran Soldier who's name seems to not be listed]

As the sun rose in the morning I stood in formation with the rest of my formation just west of the city of Kogotel. The sun gleaming brightly across our blades as the shield wall was formed by the infantry. I was honored with a place there at the front lines standing proudly shoulder to shoulder with the elite soldiers of Great House Redoran. Our lines must have been at least ten mer deep, with rows of archers entering formation behind us. We were ready.

Across the field from us they came. Marching forth from the Rift Pass like a tide come to swallow us up and take what is rightfully ours! A heathen horde of savages! This was far from the first time we'd clashed with these scum. Again and again they've attempted to steal our lands from beneath our very feet, and every time we've sent them running back to their wasteland like the cowards they truly are! We were determined that this time would be no different!

They formed into what could be loosely described as a battle formation before simply charging towards us screaming like the uncivilized scum we all know them to be. As they charged we could hear them crying out pathetic calls to thier false gods. "Ysmir be with us!" and "Shor guide our strikes!" to name a few. These cries would not save them, as they'd already sealed their fate. A command bellowed from a nearby commander along our line! "Loose!" we'd heard him yell, and the archers too heard the call.

Like a torrential deluge the arrows flew over our heads sounding like the hissing of a great swarm of insects. This flying wall of death met the Nords and they quickly began to fall with shafts sticking from seemingly every exposed gap in their armor. I must give the savages some degree of credit however, as they did not seem to be deterred in the slightest by this assault. Instead the invaders shoved their fallen comrads aside as they charged forwards, seeming even more determined then before!

Like a wave upon a cliff they crashed upon our line! We held them there, not willing to surrender even a single step to their advance. "Not one step back! Hold the line!" bellowed our commander! The rest of the soldiers and myself roared a great defiant shout in reply! These were our lands and would not see them lost to such barbaric foreign invaders! Their blows rained down upon our Bonemold armor like a great storm, and yet we resisted! I cut and thrust my sword through Nord after savage Nord with furious wrath and a near endless hail of arrows continued to stream overhead!

"The Three shall guide us this day! Almsivi shall smile upon our victory, brothers!" cried our glorious commander! This helped remind me of why I fight against these outlanders! I fight not only for my homeland, but for my Gods! The One True Faith! With pride burning through my veins and conviction consuming my very being I cleaved through countless Nords that day! Our resistence against the tide of filth went on for many hours, and predictably ended the same way it had many times before.

After losing most of their men to constant arrow fire and to the blades of our infantry, the n'wah turned tail and ran back through the pass like the cowards they truly are! It was at that moment that I could look around me and see the true extent of the carnage that was the battle line. We had known victory once more, though we'd lost many great soldiers of our own.

As the invaders ran out of sight, our commander climbed atop a mound of bloody and brutalized Nord corpses. He was splattered in blood and his blade was a gleaming crimson as he raised it high over his head. "Honor and faith!" he cried triumphantly, as we all raised our swords and roared in reply! Morrowind and the Tribunal had won a grand victory that day, and the price of that victory was paid in the same currency it traditionally is: Redoran blood.