Greetings, peasants! Commoners! Merchants! Knights! People of Balmora! It is I, KneeChopper the Magnificent. Over the past week and a half I have journeyed across your feral land, from coast to coast and to the islands beyond. There, I discovered among you a contempt for outsiders, a willingness to scoff at me and to buy expensive magic items off of me for only a mere fraction of their worth. It is due to this impropriety, and also because of my recent discovery of a new sword of Godlike power, that I now extend my request. Humbly and without compunction I ask that you, the people of Morrowind, BRING IT.

Half-Orcs and Dunmer Elves! Khajiit and Imperials! I extend my invitation equally to one and all. For the sake of our continuing relationship ... BRING IT.

I sense among you, as I make this proclamation from atop the siltstrider tower, a reluctance to do as asked. But yet there are those among you, silently fingering daggers, who I suspect are in fact eager to bring it. Lay down your reservations, say I, and bring it. Make with the bringing. Wrap it up. I will take it.

Note my brand new claymore, unearthed from ruins ageless beyond our years. The sound it makes as it whooshes through the air is not unlike the singing of angels. I have chosen to name it “Righteous Rage.” What’s that, Righteous Rage? You hope they bring it? Well, so do I. This whole town. All of you. You wouldn’t deny an artifact’s first humble wish after a millennia under the earth, would you?

I will now take questions from the audience prior to their expected bringing of it. What’s that, sir? You’ve not seen a Nord dressed as well as me for quite some time? That’s all well and good, but I think such a comment is merely expressing your subconscious desire to bring it, don’t you?

In conclusion, my fellow citizens ... BRING IT. Thank you.