Being an Ayleid Tract, Translated by Beredalmo the Signifier

"In that (minute or eon) of blood, Anumaril brought (Lord) Filestis the Remnant of Light (‘autaracu alata’), and begged him to take it to the cold sunset limit (‘fal sorn glathe’) of Tamriel. Noble Filestis took the Remnant and, with his (clan or livestock), left Kwyrothil (?) and traveled far. He kept the sunset always in his leftmost eye. Filestis was (followed or pursued) by the Ayleid Emigrants.

"They came to a Land of Cold Rocks and swam ashore (beached? berthed?). The rocks were cold/hard, but the Remnant of Light made all (fertile or wriggling). Many of the Emigrants fell ill, but the Light caused the (rocks or mountains) to bloom food-stone (‘culle-anda’), which was tongue-sweet and made healing.

"Filestis desired the Remnant of Light to (smile, glow, warm) all of the Cold Rocks, so the Emigrants, now strong-with-radiance, (raised or razed) a (mountain or pinnacle) to affix it upon. This was (collated?) in eight-hundred-eighty (minutes or eons). Then did all the Cold Rocks bloom food-stone, and every Emigrant was (healthy, impregnated, sharpened).

"After a long time (months-wasted-lying), noble Filestis was (eaten) by Death, and in afterness the Emigrants each cried a blue lake. But his helpmeet took him to the (mountain or pinnacle), where was the Remnant of Light. Then Filestis was strong-with-radiance, and Danced for eight more choruses."

[This bit of propaganda was produced for House Tamrith and distributed while Countess Eselde was in the south, studying with the Order of Arkay.]

Upon a time, in the realm of Cutcap, there was a mighty king named Rulthrub who ruled nobly and long. After many years King Rulthrub felt himself getting old, and started to think about what would happen to his realm after he was gone. Now this king was blessed with two sons, which normally would be a happy thing for an aging monarch, but in this case it was a problem. For the younger son who had been born of his queen, Prince Pigeon, was weak-willed and indifferent. In contrast the elder son, Prince Lancer, was bold and self-assured, and though his mother was of House Rithmat, the noblest in Cutcap, still Prince Lancer had undeniably been born out of wedlock.

Now King Rulthrub was a wise king, and did not try to conceal that he favored his elder son, Prince Lancer, as he was clearly the prince most fit to rule. But nonetheless when the old king finally went to Aetherius, some people felt that the milksop Prince Pigeon should take the throne. I don’t know whether these people were merely misguided, or had some other reason why they thought the rulership of Cutcap should be undermined. Fortunately wiser heads prevailed and Prince Lancer was elected King of Cutcap by the Council of Nobles.

Shortly after Lancer’s accession to the throne he met a demoiselle named Lady Vespire at a ball and fell in love. The lovely and clever Vespire was a daughter of House Rithmat, and after a brief courtship King Lancer told his Council of Nobles that she would be his queen. However, Count Pigeon (the former prince) objected that this would not be proper as King Lancer’s mother had been a Rithmat, and by the Law of Consanguinity the Lady Vespire was too close a relation for marriage. On this the rest of the council agreed, and King Lancer was persuaded to set the young lady aside. Upon hearing this news, Lady Vespire disappeared, said to have been carried off into the forests by a coterie of nixads, and though the king sent out search parties, his lost love was never found.

In due course the council recommended, for the sake of the dynasty, that King Lancer marry the young and healthy Lady Ignort of House Dull, and this, heartbroken, he agreed to. Lancer and Ignort were married, and King Lancer settled down to do his kingly duty by his new queen. Within a few months it was announced that Queen Ignort had borne King Lancer a child. A Naming-Day festival was declared for the infant princess, and everyone important in the realm was invited.

On the day of the celebration all the goodly and great of Cutcap came and laid presents at the foot of the cradle of Princess Arayelle, for thus she had been named. But at the end of the line came someone no one recognized: a dire Wyrd-Hag, hooded and cloaked, and bearing a darksome flower. Now, no Wyrd-Hags had been seen in Cutcap since the Year of Sun’s-Death, but all feared her and none dared bar her passage.

The Wyrd-Hag advanced to the princess’ cradle, and when she came to its foot she threw back her hood and cried, "Behold, King Lancer! It is I, Lady Vespire, now a Wyress of the Wyrd!" The gaily-clad crowd fell back in horror, for the formerly pretty Lady Vespire now sported a large nose disfigured by unsightly warts. "By some oversight you failed to invite me to your daughter’s Naming Day, but I have come nonetheless. And look—I have brought the infant princess a present!"

"What present is this?" said King Lancer, all a-tremble. "A darksome flower? I like not its look!"

"That’s no surprise, Your Majesty," said the Wyrd-Hag mockingly, "for this is a Forsaken Rose, a blossom no one wants! I know what that is like, King Lancer—and so, by my curse, shall your daughter!" The horrible Hag then dropped the misshapen bloom upon the baby and disappeared in a flash of fire and a cloud of evil-smelling smoke.

So it came to pass: Princess Arayelle grew up beautiful as a rose, but cross-grained and petulant. But she was nonetheless a princess of the north, so when King Emetick of the South came looking for a bride, their troth was quickly plighted.

But Count Pigeon had long made a habit of visiting the South, and was a boon companion of King Emetick. And he pointed out to the King of the South that Arayelle was cross-grained and petulant, and he might make a stronger match by marrying the Princess of Watchtower. In time Emetick agreed. He broke his match with Arayelle and promised himself to the Princess of Watchtower.

King Lancer, however, did not take this lightly, and swore he would go to war upon the oath-breaking King of the South. And he made lawful war upon King Emetick, but at the Battle of the Tor, Lancer was betrayed by one of his own generals. King Lancer was slain, his crown and Princess Arayelle both disappeared, and ever since the Throne of Cutcap has stood empty.

But some say that when King Lancer was born a twin sister likewise saw the light of the world, but was spirited away by a Wyrd-Hag to be raised in the forests. And this child, a daughter of both Rulthrub and Rithmat, herself bore a daughter who was brought back to her maternal family. And this daughter was named Countess Eselde.

And if the truth were told, all would know that her real title should be Princess Eselde. And she, and no other, is the rightful heir to the Throne of Cutcup. However, that is a tale for her people to tell.

Wake, my lady, your day has come
We’ll dress you in silk
Weave feathers in your hair
And tie leather slippers on your feet

Come, my lady, your love awaits
On this day, we’ll encircle
A banquet table now filled
With tonight’s succulent feast

Green Lady, my lady, come down
Your guests now are gathered
And bright, cheerful music plays
How blessed are Y’ffre’s children!

By Naral, also known as Baretail. The memoir is undated.

My children, Naral sets this down to give insight into the strange ways of the Wood Elves amongst whom some of you travel. Beware their vengeful ways!

Preparations began months ago for the wedding feast of the two highest Wood Elves. Their union shows that the forest and its people are as one. Hence, a very large feast.

As a trader, I’ve often been tasked with providing tidbits for royalty. I name no names, but freely admit to providing biscuits dusted with moon sugar for banquets in Elden Root on more than one occasion. Still, this wedding feast required many things outside my purview, and I was forced to make last-minute changes.

To get fifty vats of beef broth, I supplemented the thirty vats available by adding root vegetable broth. Knowing the Wood Elves are not squeamish about the dead, I provided ten crates of bone marrow from whatever bones were available, asking no questions as to their origins.

But cake with no flour? Never had I seen such a thing before! I consulted with several Wood Elf bakers who assured me such a thing was possible, as Wood Elves eat nothing green unless prepared by outsiders. Given that, their restriction that I provide cakes without flour flummoxed me. I got a couple of recipes and checked with my suppliers, none of whom could provide the desired quantity in time.
Thus, I set about making them myself. I thinned the eggs with water to make them stretch. I added arrowroot and powdered flax seed to thicken it. Sugar proved the most dear component of the cakes, so I added ground chalk to reduce the actual amount of sugar needed. The taste was similar to cake. Very similar. And since they took so little time and gold to make, my profit doubled from the cakes alone.

It was the substitution of flax seed oil whipped with lard instead of butter that proved my undoing, and the undoing of many a guest’s bowels.

Not only did the Wood Elves rescind any future contracts, but they shaved my tail and confiscated all the gear and goods I’d left behind in my hasty retreat.

Never, my children, offer to supply goods for a Wood Elf feast. It will only end in tears.

Words of Clan Mother Ahnissi to her Favored Daughter

Part One

Ahnissi tells you. You are no longer a mewing kitten and you have learned to keep secrets from Ahnissi, and so Ahnissi tells you.

In the beginning there were two littermates, Ahnurr and Fadomai. After many phases, Fadomai said to Ahnurr, "Let us wed and make children to share our happiness."

And they gave birth to Alkosh, the First Cat. And Ahnurr said, "Alkosh, we give you Time, for what is as fast or as slow as a cat?"

And they gave birth to Khenarthi, the Winds. "Khenarthi, to you we give the sky, for what can fly higher than the wind?"

And they gave birth to Magrus, the Cat’s Eye. "Magrus, to you we give the sun, for what is brighter than the eye of a cat?"

And they gave birth to Mara, the Mother Cat. "Mara, you are love, for what is more loving than a mother?"

And they gave birth to S’rendarr, the Runt. "S’rendarr, we give you mercy, for how does a runt survive, except by mercy?"

And many phases passed and Ahnurr and Fadomai were happy.

And Ahnurr said, "We should have more children to share our happiness." And Fadomai agreed. And she gave birth to Hermorah. And she gave birth to Hircine. And she gave birth to Merrunz and Mafala and Sangiin and Sheggorath and many others.

And Fadomai said:

"Hermorah, you are the Tides, for who can say whether the moons predict the tides or the tides predict the moons?"

"Hircine, you are the Hungry Cat, for what hunts better than a cat with an empty belly?"

"Merrunz, you are the Ja’Khajiit, for what is more destructive than a kitten?"

"Mafala, you are the Clan Mother, for what is more secretive than the ways of the Clan Mothers?"

"Sangiin, you are the Blood Cat, for who can control the urges of blood?"

"Sheggorath, you are the Skooma Cat, for what is crazier than a cat on skooma?"

And Ahnurr said, "Two litters is enough, for too many children will steal our happiness."

But Khenarthi went to Fadomai and said, "Fadomai-mother, Khenarthi grows lonely so high above the world where not even my brother Alkosh can fly." Fadomai took pity on her and tricked Ahnurr to make her pregnant again.

And Fadomai gave birth to the Moons and their Motions. And she gave birth to Nirni, the majestic sands and lush forests. And she gave birth to Azurah, the dusk and the dawn.

And from the beginning, Nirni and Azurah fought for their mother’s favor.

Ahnurr caught Fadomai while she was still birthing, and he was angry. Ahnurr struck Fadomai and she fled to birth the last of her litter far away in the Great Darkness. Fadomai’s children heard what had happened, and they all came to be with her and protect her from Ahnurr’s anger.

And Fadomai gave birth to Lorkhaj, the last of her litter, in the Great Darkness. And the Heart of Lorkhaj was filled with the Great Darkness. And when he was born, the Great Darkness knew its name and it was Namiira.

From the Personal Journal of Sisarion

Orcs are strange.

They are unsubtle, brutish, and straightforward in just about every way. Certainly there is variation in personality between individuals, but there are some things a Bosmer can always expect from an Orc. None of which our culture can fully comprehend.

Their Wood Orc cousins are stranger still, but for different reasons. They ironically share more commonalities with the Bosmer, and are found mostly within Valenwood.

Though Wood Orcs prize strength and honor and above all else, their interpretation of what those things mean separates them from their northern, Orsinium cousins. For instance, having strength to a Wood Orc means having agility and mobility as much as it does muscular power and endurance. I would like to hear an Orsinium Orc’s take on the topic, but I imagine that, if one considers an Orsinium Orc as formed like a member of a heavy infantry regiment, then a Wood Orc is like a light skirmisher in the same army.

The Wood Orcs, like the Bosmer, also flourish in forested areas. They’ve made no Pact with the Green—by my bow, they have utter disregard for and a lack of knowledge of the Green Pact—but I wouldn’t be surprised if they stood in Y’ffre’s favor in some way, with the ease I’ve seen them navigate tree-laden regions.

Why worry about this? I’ve had Wood Orcs on the mind lately—it’s difficult not to when one has been among them, as I have. I was ordered through their territory by a local Battlereeve to deliver a message—was told it would be easy to avoid detection. But Wood Orcs are a very different breed of Orc, as I’ve detailed above. When they caught me—no one save a Bosmer ever catches me—they noticed my presence in the trees above, though I suspect they must have been wary of something in their forest for days. I was ready, though, and felled two of the trio who turned on me with the same arrow.

I was taken aback—I had expected to fell three. But the last one—inexplicably, and in a most un-Orcish fashion—bolted out of the way, like lightning. I leapt, rolled to the ground, just as a curved hand-axe whirled into the trees, through the space where my heart would have been. I came to my feet with dagger ready, and parried a blow from a second handaxe that nearly shook the knife from my hand. The Wood Orc growled and swung again, and in that moment, I couldn’t have told him from his Orsinium cousins. He fought with the agility and grace of my people, mixed with the honorbound fury of the northern Orcs. He managed to tear a deep wound in my side, as I tossed a handful of dirt into his eyes. Half-blinded by pain myself, I stumbled to relative safety in the darkness of the woods as he cursed and spat, called me a "coward who disguised himself with the forest instead of fighting with it."

Hircine must have walked with me that day, for I was sure that battle was lost. The Wood Orc fought too fiercely, knew his own forest too well. But he never did manage to find me again. I would welcome a second contest—but in Bosmer territory.

Varieties of Faith in Tamriel: The Wood Elves

By Brother Mikhael Karkuxor of the Imperial College

The Eight

(though few Bosmer outside the Empire accept the limitation of Divines to eight):

Auri-El (King of the Aldmer):

The Elven Akatosh is Auri-El. Auri-El is the soul of Anui-El, who, in turn, is the soul of Anu the Everything. He is the chief of most Aldmeri pantheons. Most Altmeri and Bosmeri claim direct descent from Auri-El. In his only known moment of weakness, he agreed to take his part in the creation of the mortal plane, that act which forever sundered the Elves from the spirit worlds of eternity. To make up for it, Auri-El led the original Aldmer against the armies of Lorkhan in mythic times, vanquishing that tyrant and establishing the first kingdoms of the Aldmer, Aldmeris and Old Ehlnofey. He then ascended to heaven in full observance of his followers so that they might learn the steps needed to escape the mortal plane.

Y’ffre (God of the Forest):

Most important deity of the Bosmeri pantheon. While Auri-El the Time Dragon might be the king of the gods, the Bosmer revere Y’ffre as the spirit of "the now." According to the Wood Elves, after the creation of the mortal plane everything was in chaos. The first mortals were turning into plants and animals and back again. Then Y’ffre transformed himself into the first of the Ehlnofey, or "Earth Bones." After these laws of nature were established, mortals had a semblance of safety in the new world, because they could finally understand it. Y’ffre is sometimes called the Storyteller, for the lessons he taught the first Bosmer. Some Bosmer still possess the knowledge of the chaos times, which they can use to great effect (the Wild Hunt).

Arkay (God of the Cycle of Life and Death):

Arkay is the god of burials and funeral rites, and is sometimes associated with the seasons. His priests are staunch opponents of necromancy and all forms of the undead. It is said that Arkay did not exist before the world was created by the gods under Lorkhan’s supervision/urging/trickery. Therefore, he is sometimes called the Mortals’ God.

Xarxes:

Xarxes is the god of ancestry and secret knowledge. He began as a scribe to Auri-El, and has kept track of all Aldmeri accomplishments, large and small, since the beginning of time. He created his wife, Oghma, from his favorite moments in history.

Mara (Goddess of Love):

Nearly universal goddess. Origins started in mythic times as a fertility goddess. She is sometimes associated with Nir of the "Anuad," the female principle of the cosmos that gave birth to creation. For the Bosmer, she is the wife of Auri-El.

Stendarr (God of Mercy):

God of compassion and righteous rule. In early Aldmeri legends, Stendarr is the apologist of Men.

Z’en (God of Toil):

Bosmeri god of payment in kind, which includes both just remuneration and retribution. Studies indicate origins in both Argonian and Akaviri mythologies, perhaps introduced into Valenwood by Kothringi sailors. Ostensibly an agriculture deity, Z’en sometimes proves to be an entity of a much higher cosmic order.

Baan Dar (The Bandit God):

Trickster spirit of thieves and beggars borrowed from the Khajiit.

Additional Deities with Significant Bosmeri Cults:

Herma-Mora (The Woodland Man):

Malicious trickster spirit (another one!) whose Bosmeri cultists say is not to be confused with the Daedra Hermaeus Mora. (Others deride this assertion.)

Jone and Jode (Little Moon God and Big Moon God):

Aldmeri gods of the Moons, they are spirits of fortune, both good and bad.

Hircine (The Huntsman, Father of Manbeasts):

Master of the Great Hunt and lord of all lycanthropes. Worshipers of Hircine are not as ruthless as those who worship other Daedra; they always give their prey at least a small chance to escape.

Lorkhan (The Missing God):

This Creator-Trickster-Tester deity is in every Tamrielic mythic tradition. His most popular name is the Aldmeri "Lorkhan," or Doom Drum. He convinced or contrived the Original Spirits to bring about the creation of the mortal plane, upsetting the status quo—much like his father Padomay had introduced instability into the universe in the Beginning Place. After the world is materialized, Lorkhan is separated from his divine center, sometimes involuntarily, and wanders the creation of the et’Ada. He and his metaphysical placement in the "scheme of things" is interpreted a variety of ways. To the Elves, he is the most unholy of all higher powers, as he forever broke their connection to the spirit plane. In the legends, he is almost always an enemy of the Aldmer and, therefore, a hero of early Mankind.

Their Architecture and Civilization

By Thelwe Ghelein, Scholar

In the Deep Halls, Far from Men

Forsaken Red Mountain, Twisted Kin

Hail the Mind, Hail the Stone

Dwarven Pride, Stronger than Bone

My life’s work has been dedicated to investigating the Dwemer, their dubious history, and their mysterious banishment. My goal with this text is sharing my findings and conclusions based on eighty years spent studying their unique architectural remains.

The Migration of the Deep Elves from their ancestral Dwemereth, now Morrowind, is a generally accepted as fact. Recorded history supports this, specifically mentioning the Rourken Clan’s refusal to join King Dumac in the forming of the First Council and their subsequent exodus to Hammerfell. The architectural premise is also sound, as the building habits of the Dwarves adapted and changed, albeit slowly and in subtle ways, over time and land. I propose that some of these differences are stylistic as well as practical.

Traditional viewpoints suggest that the Vvardenfell Dwemer were the most prolific of their kind. Based on my excavations throughout Skyrim, Morrowind, and High Rock, I am not sure that this is the case. While Vvardenfell is almost cluttered with Dwarven ruins poking through the surface of the landscape, the construction of those ruins is fundamentally different from the majority of what I’ve observed elsewhere.

Furthermore, as we delve into Vvardenfell ruins, we notice that their internal structure is quite different. While major civic and operational chambers are found near the surface in a Vvardenfell Ruin, that is not typically the case on the mainland. Minor passageways and storehouse rooms are near the surface, but more important locations do not occur until we explore much deeper.

Because such major locations are well-hidden in Dwemer Ruins outside of Morrowind, many scholars believed they were in fact not present in ruins outside that province. This premature conclusion has led some to believe such sites to be mere outposts. My research has shown this not to be the case.

A few theories may explain this difference. Perhaps clan architects simply had their own styles and preferences when it came to civic planning. This seems only somewhat likely, as Dwarven techniques were based on empirical study, and there was likely little room for creative interpretation when it came to building technique. Geological makeup of the terrain almost certainly played a role, especially in a region like Northern Skyrim, where the ground near the surface is very rocky and often frozen, as opposed to the volcanic substratum common in Vvardenfell or the ubiquitous aquifers found in Hammerfell. It’s possible that Dwarven architects in the North were not able to excavate larger structures until reaching more pliable strata.

This scholar would like to suggest, however, that many structures west of Morrowind were built after 1E 420. When the Clan Rourken left Vvardenfell, it seems evident that several clans broke off to create their own settlements, chosing to live in greater isolation than their Eastern brethren. This theory is particularly fascinating, because it leads me to believe that Dwarven architects may have developed even more elaborate methods of hiding their strongholds over time.

This opens the distinct possibility that undisturbed Dwarven archaeological sites exist throughout Tamriel, even in southern areas like Cyrodiil or Black Marsh, where Dwarves are not believed to have ever had a significant presence. Though we should not get carried away on flights of fancy, one could extrapolate this logic to suggest that some Dwarven clans were living among us for much longer than previously believed, perhaps well beyond the disappearance during the War of the Red Mountain in 1E 700.

Their Architecture and Civilization

By Thelwe Ghelein, Scholar

In the Deep Halls, Far from Men

Forsaken Red Mountain, Twisted Kin

Hail the Mind, Hail the Stone

Dwarven Pride, Stronger than Bone

The limited written record supports the perception of the Deep Elves as culturally revering the pursuits of logic and science. This stands in stark contrast to the belief system of most other Mer cultures. When we imagine a society structured around such a central ideology, it seems reasonable that prolific scholars, especially in fields such as mathematics, metallurgy, or architecture, would be elevated to social status like that of clergy in a more mystically inclined culture. The idea is supported by a fragment of Dwemeris text recovered from a colony in Skyrim—Irkgnthand—which I believe to be associated with Clan Rourken. My translation is as follows:

"Risen by order cousin-of-privilege Cuolec of Scheziline privileged duties. Clanhome building Hoagen Kultorra tradition to Hailed World shaper"

"To raise granted-cousin Cuolec of privilege with duties for family-home building Hoagen Kultorra tradition to father Mundus shaper"

Some scholars interpret this as evidence of Dwemer worship of Mundus, but I do not agree. My translation of this passage suggests that a respected Dwemer by the name of Cuolec was promoted to a civic position, probably as a tonal architect. The latter half of the fragment suggests that Cuolec’s position requires him to build in a specific style.

The term Hoagen Kultorra has thus far eluded me, but I believe it may be the name of such a style. It’s possible there were several styles, differing in their construction principles and typical structures.

One earmark of what I believe was the prevalent Dwemer style among Northern clans was a feature I call the Deep Venue. Deep Venues are often made up of one or more expansive natural caverns in which several other structures occur. Structures within the Venue may be carved from the stone itself or freely erected upon the cavern floor. The largest and most impressive Venues, such as those found in Bthardamz, may even feature roads wide enough for ten large men to walk shoulder-meets-shoulder along it.

Arcanex are typically smaller structures. Very few have been properly studied before disruption by graverobbers or greedy adventurers, but those few undisturbed sites have contained a surprising collection of magical objects, such as soul gems, alchemical concoctions, and magical texts. Some scholars take these as evidence that the Dwemer did, in fact, dabble in the magical arts. Based on what we know of their culture, as well as the fact that most arcanex are minor structures compared to other common fixtures, I would suggest that these were centers of study and nothing more. Perhaps the Dwarves established these halls as a means to study Men and Mer, who surely seemed as alien to them as the Dwemer seem to us today.

Great Animoculotories can be found in many Dwarven strongholds. These were the factories where the centurions and various other constructs were built. I have hoped to study these chambers for clues as to the means by which those mysterious automata are given life, but those same guardians make them especially difficult and dangerous areas to explore.

On the Utility of Marbles and Needles

By Marobar Sul

A Nord, a Chimer, and a Dwemer walked into a cornerclub.

"What’ll it be, muthseras?" the barkeep asked.

"Give me a mug of mead," said the Nord.

"I’ll have a snifter of shein—the good stuff, mind you," said the Chimer.

"Kindly serve me an infusion of chal, a marble, and a leather-sewing needle," said the Dwemer.

"Haw, haw," guffawed the Nord. "Shor’s bones! The little milk-drinker’s going to play pick-up-sticks, but he can handle only one stick!"

"At least I don’t swear by a god who is not only imaginary, but dead," said the Dwemer, as the barkeep placed his items on the counter.

"Hey! What?" the Nord blustered. "Why, I ought to…!"

"He’s got you there, by Azura’s Star," said the Chimer, sipping at his shein. "A point for you, Dwarf."

"On the other hand, at least the Nord doesn’t think it’s clever to worship demons from other planes," said the Dwemer, swirling his chal.

"Boethiah and Mephala! You go too far!" cried the Chimer, drawing a triangular dagger.

"Yeah! Let’s gut the runt!" growled the Nord, pulling a hand-axe.

The Dwemer knocked the marble off the counter. It landed on the floor just where the Chimer was putting down his foot for his thrust. He slipped, lurched left, and buried his dagger to the hilt in the surprised Nord’s chest. Meanwhile the Dwemer gave the big needle a precise flick of the finger; it spun down and lodged in a crack between the floor-planks, point up. As the Chimer back-pedaled from the dying Nord, he lost his balance and fell headfirst to the floor, where the needle pierced one of his golden eyes all the way into his brain. It took several minutes of flailing, but eventually the Chimer was as dead as the Nord.

The Dwemer pulled a coin-purse from the Chimer’s belt and gave it to the barkeep, swallowed the Nord’s mead in one prolonged chug, picked up the snifter of shein and took a sip, then nodded to the barkeep and left the cornerclub, snifter in hand. "Off to the market," they heard him say. "I must get a bone-tweezer, a guar egg, and a boot-jack."