Speak no more of it. The less often I think of it, the better.

That's what it was, all right. The folly of youth. Had dreams, aspirations. I foolishly followed them, and took my wife to Vvardenfell for what was supposed to be a "great adventure". I paid for my foolishness, paid in full. Unfortunately, my wife was made to pay as well. She caught the Blight shortly after arriving, and her frail constitution couldn't handle it. I lost her to the damned disease, and it ruined me. No one could replace her. None of the women I've ever know could ever replace her.