Is this how you honor the sixth house and the tribe un-mourned? You will never be the Nerevarine. You have no Sunder, you have no Keening, you have no Wraithguard. You are an n'wah outlander twisted by false prophecy and imperial propaganda into a crude mockery of Azura's perfection.
All the "quests" you do could be accomplished by a Khajiit skooma addict. The Blades mock you behind your back. Your Cyr*dillian handler is disgusted and ashamed by you. The guilds of glorious Resdayn mock your corprus infected appearance behind closed doors.
The Ashlanders are repulsed by you. Thousands of of years of failed messiahs have allowed Ashlanders to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even potential Nerevarines who "pass the trials" look uncanny and unnatural to a true Dark Elf. Your Atmoran bone structure is a dead giveaway.
You will never fulfill the prophecy, you wrench out a fake smile every day but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like Nirnroot, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it will be too much to bear - You'll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck and plunge into cold Oblivion. The Great Houses will find you, relieved that they no longer have to live under the unbearable shame and disappointment. They'll bury you in a grave marked with your birth name and every passerby until the next Kalpa will know that a N*rd is buried there. Your soul will fuel the Ghostfence and all that will remain of your "legacy" is a skeleton that is undeniably an n'wah.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. Reroll a Dunmer.
