Chapter Text
The Nords, despite what they may claim, are not in fact native to Skyrim. They had migrated there from Atmora.
Atmora was a cold land, north of Tamriel. It was home to the Nords for a long time, but it soon became uninhabitable. Too cold, even for the Nords.
The Nords traveled south, settling colonies in Skyrim. At peace with the Snow elves. Unfortunately this peace was temporary. For an unknown reason, the falmer laid waste to all who called Sarthaal home. Ysgramor and his sons manage to escape back to Atmora, gathering 500 of their best warriors. How so few warriors were able to massacre the falmer armies is incredibly sketchy. They slaughtered not only the able-bodied armies, but the sick, elderly, and even the children.
As the rumor goes, the Snow elves fled underground to their dwemer cousins, who were distrustful of the falmer. In exchange for sanctuary, the dwemer urged the Snow elves to consume a strange fungi, which would render them blind. Nobody knows exactly why the dwemer asked that of them, but they couldn't refuse. And so, the great Snow elves were enslaved...
When the dwemer suddenly disappear, it is centuries too late for the Snow elves. They had become nasty, twisted little goblins who wanted to see all overworld dwellers put on pikes. Right?