Dagoth Ur (the god)

I am Dagoth Ur (the god) and i live in Dagoth Ur (the city) on Dagoth Ur (the Mountain) and i am my own favorite Dunmer.

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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: September 29th, 2023

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  • I, Dagoth Ur, believe that the entirety of his theory rests upon a grievous error. He, in his folly, regarded labor as the solitary font of worth and, in his ignorance, failed to grasp that capitalism thrives not solely by the exploitation of laborers but also through the ceaseless march of technological advancement. He dared to belittle the other wellsprings of wealth: innovation, entrepreneurial spirit, and the unyielding progress of technology, all of which lie at the very core of his theory.

    Curiously, passages within “Capital” and the “Communist Manifesto” speak of the global ascendancy of capitalism, prophesying the vanishing of all things traditional and the dissolution of feudal remnants. Therefore, I, Dagoth Ur, put forth the audacious proposition that we may indeed regard Karl Marx as the inaugural, true theorist of globalization.



  • Nerevar, you foolish one, approach. A character on the internet proclaims that our world must endure another cycle of annihilation and rebirth to find goodness. Can you fathom such grand and intoxicating innocence, Nerevar?

    You there, sir! Be aware that I, Dagoth Ur, have witnessed 3743 years of existence, and I did not dedicate my millennia to be insulted by a creature not yet a century old. Depart from my lands and the ungrateful tribes, and let them remain untouched by your misguided notions.


  • Nerevar, behold the grand utilization of space within my mighty halls. I have constructed a new server room, boasting Yotabytes upon Yotabytes with layers of redundancy to store and host videos capturing individuals relieving themselves in or around Dagoth Ur(the city).

    What’s this? No, Nerevar, you fool, it is not one of my peculiar fascinations. This serves as a means to chastise those Dunmer who have lost all sense of decency, soiled by their impertinence. Since ascending to godhood, I, Dagoth Ur, have long abandoned such base necessities. It vexes me greatly that there remains a Dunmer outside my domain who still indulges in such actions. Of course, in my mortal days, I too partook in such mundane activities. What a grand and intoxicating question.

    But now, Nerevar, do you wish to partake in the viewing of these Dunmers, so devoid of dignity?






  • Nerevar, you fool. What an intoxicating and grand question. I, Dagoth Ur(the god) do not pay for movies for i have a NAS full of movies down in the basement of Dagoth Ur(the cellar) in Dagoth Ur (the Mountain). Only an Argonian whose traditions i do not welcome would pay money to a corporation to watch moving pictures.

    And yes… Nerevar… i watch movies without ads. Can you bring me the popcorn?




  • Hear Ye, Nerevar, and listen well. 'Tis I, Lord Dagoth, master of these lands, who brings you the gospel of gaming. Games are not just a means of fun and entertainment, but also a way of preserving our history. Piracy, which so many foolish people seem to hate, is a necessary means of archiving old games, lest they be lost forever. As for the Argonians, and other beasts that call themselves ‘gamers,’ their greed knows no bounds. Their constant calls for new games only fuel the fires of corruption and destruction that blight the industry.


  • Very well, Nerevar. You wish to hear a tale of my encounter with an Argonian?

    On a dark and ashy evening, I, Dagoth Ur, found myself in the heart of my city. As the god of House Dagoth, I walked with purpose through the twisting corridors of Kogoruhn. There, in the dimly lit chambers, I beheld an Argonian, standing like a shadow in the obsidian darkness. Her name, she told me, was Sul-Matuul, and I found myself intrigued despite my disdain for her kind.

    Our first date, if you could call it that, was an unusual affair. Sul-Matuul, being an Argonian, had a fondness for swampy, humid environments. She suggested we visit a hidden corner of Morrowind, a place where the air was thick with moisture and the smell of rotting vegetation hung heavy.

    We embarked on a journey to the heart of the Bitter Coast, trudging through the muck and mire. The Argonian’s tail flicked with excitement, and she spoke of Hist trees and Hist sap, matters that held no interest to me. Nevertheless, I, Dagoth Ur, entertained her ramblings.

    Our destination was a swampy grove, where the Argonian insisted we perform a traditional Argonian dance. I found myself awkwardly attempting to mimic her movements as she swayed and hissed, her scales glistening with swamp water. It was a display of Argonian customs that grated on my divine sensibilities.

    As the night wore on, and the swamp’s stench permeated my very being, I could bear it no longer. I declared our date concluded and returned to the sanctum of Red Mountain, leaving Sul-Matuul behind.

    And thus, Nerevar, that was my first and only encounter with an Argonian in matters of the heart. What a grand and intoxicating misadventure it was, one that reinforced my disdain for their traditions and way of life.