There’s a reason I was kicked out of Daggerfall, chased out of Elden Root, and banned from Mournhold. I’ve tried every variety of intoxicant, wine, ale, and Argonian swill this world has to offer. I’ve sampled skooma with Khajiit, licked an Argonian Hist Tree, and hunted "magical" toads with the Bosmer.

None of that compares to Nord mead. There’s nothing like it.

The purest stuff is made in Nord villages, but we’re at war with the Nords, and a Breton has no guarantee of surviving a trip like that. Leave that sort of thing to the professionals. There is still hope, however. If you’re ever at a tavern, and there’s a cask of Nord mead, you’d be a fool to pass it up.

Mead is made by fermenting honey and water (though a few recipes call for molasses). Sometimes, you add grain mash and strain it, but that isn’t necessary. Some of the High Elves call it "honey wine," but mead needs more than good honey. Every meadery has its own recipes. After you drink enough mead, you learn the names of the brewmasters who create them. A drunk Nord will gladly punch another in the face over the honor of a good brewmaster. Then again, a drunk Nord will punch anyone for just about anything.

Every brewmaster has a distinct blend of spices, fruit, and sometimes hops (which makes a mead bitter, which makes some Nords bitter, too.) I’ve even heard tales of mead mixed with the blood of heroes, allegedly granting them the words of a poet or skald. I’d like a mead named after me, but I’m not going to bleed for it.

An Altmer once told me that brewing is the basis of all culture. It’s why our ancestors started farming and forming cities. It’s what we do when we’ve got too much wheat and barley and hops and we’re sick of farming. The culture of drinking seems to be what keeps Nords together.

Nords must be really sick of farming, because they brew and drink prodigious amounts of mead. Whenever a cask of really good mead is opened, Nords gather round because they know that cask won’t last long. But if you don’t know how to behave in the Nord drinking culture, you’ll end up broke, broken, hungover, and helpless. I found out the hard way.

Nords love to drink. But more than that. Nords respect those who can endure adversity. I know that sounds flowery for explaining why two drunk Nords would have a "hit-me-hard-in-the-face" contest, but really, that’s why their culture celebrates getting drunk.

A Nord can gain respect by consuming more mead than anyone else, just as he’s respected for surviving a blizzard or killing a bear with a sharp stick. "Nord honor" is something they talk about endlessly when they’re drunk, and even more when they’re sober. So the first thing you learn about Nords is if you want their respect, never turn down a drink. It’s a test. If you can’t handle that next drink, leave. Otherwise you’ll wake up somewhere they find hilarious, but you won’t be laughing.

Nords also love their skalds. Songs and stories go over well with a drunk audience, once they’ve had enough of brawling, boasting, and throwing axes at each other. Their songs are all about how they’re better than everyone else at everything. They’ve all heard these over and over again, so bring some of your own. They’re desperate to hear something new.

Anywhere you go, drinking is also a good way to redress a mistake or make an apology, and it’s the same with Nords. If you lose a contest, you need to buy a drink. If you make a mistake or offend someone, you need to buy a drink. If you’re insulted, stand there and take it, then you need to buy a drink.

You don’t have to be the best brawler around to survive a room full of drunken Nords. You can also impress them by being clever or by being talented, but you better be really good. When it’s time to take a punch in the face, you better be ready for a punch in the face. If you don’t like getting punched, there are some things you should never talk about, like politics, who’s the best brewmaster, and who punches the hardest. And never demand to know why someone just punched you in the face.

If you want to hear more, buy me a drink the next time I’m in Daggerfall. I’ll tell you a story.

An Overview of Gods and Worship in Tamriel

By Brother Hetchfeld, Associate Scribe at the Imperial University, Office of Introductory Studies

Gods are commonly judged upon the evidence of their interest in worldly matters. A central belief in the active participation of Deities in mundane matters can be challenged by the reference to apparent apathy and indifference on the part of Gods during times of plague or famine.

From intervention in legendary quests to manifestations in common daily life, no pattern for the Gods of Tamriel’s activities is readily perceived. The concerns of Gods in many ways may seem unrelated or at best unconcerned with the daily trials of the mortal realm. The exceptions do exist, however.

Many historical records and legends point to the direct intervention of one or more Gods at times of great need. Many heroic tales recount blessings of the divinity bestowed upon heroic figures who worked or quested for the good of a Deity or the Deity’s temple. Some of the more powerful artifacts in the known world were originally bestowed upon their owners through such reward. It has also been reported that priests of high ranking in their temples may on occasion call upon their Deity for blessings or help in time of need. The exact nature of such contact and the blessings bestowed is given to much speculation, as the temples hold such associations secret and holy. This direct contact gives weight to the belief that the Gods are aware of the mortal realm. In many circumstances, however, these same Gods will do nothing in the face of suffering and death, seeming to feel no need to interfere. It is thus possible to conclude that we, as mortals, may not be capable of understanding more than a small fraction of the reasoning and logic such beings use.

One defining characteristic of all Gods and Goddesses is their interest in worship and deeds. Deeds in the form of holy quests are just one of the many things that bring the attention of a Deity. Deeds in everyday life, by conforming to the statutes and obligations of individual temples, are commonly supposed to please a Deity. Performance of ceremony in a temple may also bring a Deity’s attention. Ceremonies vary according to the individual Deity. The results are not always apparent but sacrifice and offerings are usually required to have any hope of gaining a Deity’s attention.

While direct intervention in daily temple life has been recorded, the exact nature of the presence of a God in daily mundane life is a subject of controversy. A traditional saying of the Wood Elves is that, "One man’s miracle is another man’s accident." While some Gods are believed to take an active part of daily life, others are well known for their lack of interest in temporal affairs.

It has been theorized that Gods do in fact gain strength from such things as worship through praise, sacrifice and deed. It may even be theorized that the number of worshipers a given Deity has may reflect on His overall position among the other Gods. This is my own conjecture, garnered from the apparent ability of the larger temples to attain blessings and assistance from their God with greater ease than smaller religious institutions.

There are reports of the existence of spirits in our world that have the same capacity to use the actions and deeds of mortals to strengthen themselves as do the Gods. The understanding of the exact nature of such creatures would allow us to understand with more clarity the connection between a Deity and the Deity’s worshipers.

The implication of the existence of such spirits leads to the speculation that these spirits may even be capable of raising themselves to the level of a God or Goddess. Motusuo of the Imperial Seminary has suggested that these spirits may be the remains of Gods and Goddesses who through time lost all or most of their following, reverting to their earliest most basic form. Practitioners of the Old Ways say that there are no Gods, just greater and lesser spirits. Perhaps it is possible for all three theories to be true.

Oral Traditions of the Reachmen, Number 5

By Juno Procillus, Academy of Chorrol

The following is the transcribed statement of a shaman of Druadach who named himself Uraccanach the Witchman:

"Like the fingers of your hand, like the clutch of the hagraven, like the arrows to kill a bear, Five are the Aspects of Lord Hircine. You may meet any of the Five. All are true and right and death-in-the-woods. All are worthy of reverence.

"You may meet the Hunter, who is invoked as Alrabeg. He bears the Spear of Bitter Mercy. He comes here from the Hunting Grounds to hunt new prey, or he brings prey native to the Hunting Grounds, like the Unicorn, to hunt in new forests. If he brings not prey, then woe betide you who meet him, for he may dub you the Hare. Then you must flee as best you can, though you will not escape.

"You may meet the Manbeast, who is invoked as Storihbeg. He wears the Wolf Skull Totem and his growl is like a landslide in the Karth Gorge. He comes here to hunt with his children the Skinshifters, or to adopt new children and turn them pelt-side-out. His howl will freeze your inwards like a pond in Evening Star at midnight—you will see your death approach, but be unable to flee.

"You man meet the Great Stag, who is invoked as Uricanbeg, and whose hooves drum the Blood Summons. He comes to mate with the hinds, and may transform a comely woman for that purpose, or to cull the herd of the weak. Those who hear his drumbeat are doomed to run with the herd, and may follow him back to the Hunting Grounds where they will be chased and unmade."

"You may meet the Quick Fox, who is invoked as Gulibeg, and who wields the Wand of Bone. He comes here to confound mortal hunters, to run them in circles until they are so plexed and wildered that they follow him over a cliff or into a trackless mire. He may fill you with such fury you can do naught but pursue him, or he may note you as clever and teach you his tricks.

"You may meet the Mighty Bear, who is invoked as Hrokkibeg. He embodies the Totem of Claw and Fang, and comes here seeking solitude, peace from labors, and renewal of the Burning Spirit Within. Beware, for if you rouse him and disturb his serenity you will be torn asunder. But if you approach him with deference and an offering of honey-sweet mead, he may grant you the power of the Bear-Heart in your next fight.

"These are the Five—there are no more, and any who say so are witless and foolish. So states Uraccanach, and whenever have I been proven false? I have said it, and it is so. Pass the juniper-draught."

Long ago, a man with seven sons and seven daughters lived in Bangkorai. Their home was in a deep and twisted cave at the edge of the woods.

The surrounding forest was filled with all manner of creatures: bears, wolves, badgers, and deer. Though his family was large, they never knew hunger, for the animals were plentiful and easy prey.

"We must give thanks for Hircine’s blessing," said the man.

And the man prayed to Hircine, building within his home a shrine to the God of the Hunt. He painted the walls of the cave with pigments he made by combining animal fat with the earth. From the deer his children slew, the man took antlers to make an altar, and his wife braided hides into leather rugs to cover the dirt floor.

When the shrine was complete, the man and his family lit tallow candles and roasted an ox, pouring its blood onto the altar as they chanted prayers.

Suddenly, they heard a laugh, and before them stood Hircine himself, drawn by the death cry of the ox and the scent of its roasting flesh.

"You’ve done well!" Hircine cried, striding forward. He was clad in layers of animal hide, though his feet were bare.

"I am your faithful servant," said the man, groveling before his god.

"To prove your faith," said Hircine, "send forth your seven sons and seven daughters. I will hunt them from dawn until dusk and from dusk until dawn, until I am sated."

The man recoiled in horror. "I cannot do that!" he said. "You may take anything, but do not take my children from me!"

Eyes narrowing, Hircine raised one hand toward the cave’s ceiling. Then he pointed to the ground with the other. Hircine screamed, and the walls collapsed inward, destroying the shrine and the man’s home.

As dust curled upward like the smoke from an offering, sixteen forest trolls lumbered uncertainly from the debris, staggering from the grotto to the woods.

"You were not worthy of becoming beasts," Hircine remarked coolly, "but I shall hunt you anyway."

Let no man say before a witness that the Hunt has not been called, nor the Rites declared, nor the Ancient Offices observed.

The Ritual of the Innocent Quarry, also called the Great Hunt, is an ancient rite drawing magical energy from the powerful magicka stream that engulfs this realm. The creators and times of the rituals are long forgotten. But followed properly, the rite brings great power and prestige to the Huntsman.

The ritual pits the all-powerful Huntsmen and their Greater and Lesser Dogs against the pitiful and doomed Innocent Quarry, called by tradition the Hare, after the mortal creature of human hunts. At once, the Huntsman is transported by the exquisite thrill and glory of his might and dominion over his helpless prey, and at the same time touched by the tragic, noble, and ultimately futile plight of the Innocent Quarry. In the highest aesthetic realization of the ritual, the ecstatic rapture of the kill is balanced by the Huntsman’s identification with the sadness and despair of the Innocent Quarry. As in pieces the body of the innocent Hare is torn, the Huntsman reflects on the tragic imbalances of power and the cruel injustices of the world.

As the Hunt begins, the Lesser Dogs assemble before the green crystal reflections of the Chapel of the Innocent Quarry. Inside the Chapel, the Huntsmen, the Greater Dogs, and the Master of the Hunt perform the rites that initiate and sanctify the Huntsmen, the Hunt, and the Innocent Quarry. Then the Huntsman emerges from the Chapel, displays the Spear of Bitter Mercy, and recites the Offices of the Hunt. The Offices describe the laws and conditions of the four stages of the Hunt: the Drag, the Chase, the Call, and the View to the Kill.

Stage One: The Drag, in which the Lesser Dogs drag the ground to flush out the Hare.

Stage Two: The Chase, in which the Greater Hounds drive the Hare before them.

Stage Three: The Call, in which the Greater Hounds trap the Hare and summon the Huntsmen for the kill.

Stage Four: The View, in which the Huntsman makes the kill with the ritual Spear of Bitter Mercy, and calls upon the Master of the Hunt to view the kill by ringing the town bell. The Master of the Hunt then bestows the Bounty upon the Huntsman Bold who has wielded the Spear of Bitter Mercy in the kill. The Master of the Hunt also calls upon the Huntsman Bold to name the next Hare for the next Hunt (though the Huntsman Bold himself may not participate in the next Hunt).

The Offices of the Hunt, which the Huntsmen, Master, and Hounds are solemnly sworn to honor, detail the practices and conditions of the Hunt. These practices and conditions, also known as the Law, strictly define all details of the Hunt, such as how many Hounds of each sort may participate, how the Spear of Bitter Mercy may be wielded, and so forth. In addition, the Law states that the Hare must have a genuine chance to escape the Hunt, no matter how slim. In practice, this condition has been defined as the availability of six keys which, if gathered together in the Temple of Daedric Rites, permit the Hare to teleport away from the Hunt, and so elude the Huntsman and his Spear. It is inconceivable, of course, that the Hare might actually discover the keys and escape, but the forms must be observed, and tampering with the keys or cheating the Hare of a genuine chance of finding or using the keys is a shameful and unforgivable betrayal of the Law of the Hunt.

Notes for the personal memoirs of King Laloriaran Dynar, "Last King of the Ayleids"

Structure: ten chapters as traditional, one for each of the Ten Ancestors

Chapter One: Struggles of the Late Ayleid Period (263-331)
— My father humiliated by the Empress
— Nenalata as a vassal-state to the Empire of Cyrodiil
— Wrenching transition to a slave-less economy
— Forced adoption of Alessia’s Eight Divines
— I don the Crown of Nenalata
— Rising sense of futility and doom

Chapter Two: Alessian Order, Ayleid Disorder (332-371)
— Coup d’Etat in the Imperial City
— I swear fealty to the Emperor
— Theocracy in Cyrodiil
— The Ayleid Pogrom
— The vassal-states dwindle
— Nenalata stands alone

Chapter Three: Tears for Lost Nenalata (372-374)
— Ultimatum from the Emperor
— Debate with the Intransigents
— Last hours in Nenalata
— The turbulent trek from Cyrodiil
— News of the massacre of the Intransigents
— Nibbled to death by Goblins

Chapter Four: Refugees on the Bjoulsae (375-452)
— Welcomed by the Direnni
— Displacing the Orcs, founding a city
— Bisnensel-by-the-Lake
— Detente with the Bretons, armistice with the Orcs
— Disturbing news from Cyrodiil

Chapter Five: Menace of the Primeval Seekers (453-460)
— The pernicious cult of Hermaeus Mora
— Strange rites, persistent visions
— High Priest Uluscant asserts his authority
— Murder in the night
— Flight of the royal family

Chapter Six: Sanctuary Among the Direnni (461-477)
— Balfiera Island
— Ryain, Aiden, and Raven
— At War with Skyrim
— Tactician and Strategist: I find my true calling
— Hoag Merkiller defeated

Chapter Seven: Approach of the Alessian Horde (478-479)
— Rumbles from the Heartland
— We find Breton converts to Alessianism
— Scourging of the missionaries
— The Alessian Horde marches west
— The fall of Craglorn

Chapter Eight: The Mustering of High Rock (480-481)
— Envoy to the Vassal Kings
— Aiden reluctantly signs the Rights Charter
— Making legionaries out of farmhands
— The Horde swarms into High Rock
— Atrocities of the Alessians

Chapter Nine: The Battle of Glenumbria Moors (482)
— Opening skirmishes
— We present the lure
— Faolchu takes the bait
— Charge of the hidden knights
— Conjured creatures of Corvus and Calani
— Rout of the Alessians

Chapter Ten: Return to Nenalata (482-484)
— Pursuit of the Alessian Horde
— Extermination in Craglorn
— The Maruhkati Martyrs
— Return to the Heartland
— Lured to Nenalata
— Molag Bal’s Insidious Trap
— Prisoner in Coldharbour

Plenty of time in here. Just hope they don’t take away my writing materials. Could even Dremora be that cruel?

By Doctor Rhythandius

As a Doctor of Transliminal Mythomysticism, I have long been interested in the soul/body problem, the reformation of the Daedric body post-banishment, and the formation of the body around the essence commonly known as the "vestige." Since our enforced relocation to Coldharbour, courtesy of Our Luminous Lady, I have had considerable opportunity to observe these processes first-hand, and am now in a position to confirm many hypotheses that, upon Mundus, were fated to remain mere conjecture.

It has long been understood that a Daedra, who lacks the Anuic animus known as the "soul," is not killed when its body is destroyed. A Daedra slain upon Mundus is merely "banished" back to its plane of origin, where its morphotype, or "vestige," gradually forms a new body, so that eventually the Daedra lives again. (This happens as well when a Daedra is slain in its native Oblivion.)

Furthermore, we have long known from the Daedra themselves that their bodies are formed from the very stuff of chaos, the "creatia" of Oblivion, a shapeless but energetic material that accretes around a vestige until it conforms to the morphotype’s inherent pattern.

Back on Mundus I had naively envisioned this creatia as some sort of misty, amorphous material swirling in a void somewhere. After our arrival in Coldharbour, it was some time before I realized that its ubiquitous pools of blue slime, the substance we’ve come to call "Azure Plasm," was in fact the form that creatia takes upon this plane. By extension, I reasoned that chaotic creatia takes a different but planar-appropriate form in every realm of Oblivion—and this theory was later confirmed for me by the rogue Xivilai known as the Sojourner, who has had direct experience of numerous planes of existence.

In fact, it was the Sojourner who first introduced me to one of those secret grottoes where one can observe the process of plasm-accretion in action. (To find such grottoes, where Daedra are "born," it is necessary only to observe the slow flow of the Azure Plasm and follow it to its destination—for plasm-accretion causes a slow drain on adjacent pools.) It was fascinating to watch a vestige gradually absorbing Azure Plasm and converting it from the general to specific, so that over time it slowly took on the size and shape of a hulking, reptilian daedroth.

Then there are the poor slaves known as the Soul Shriven. Each is a mortal kidnaped from Mundus at the moment of death, his or her soul stolen by Molag Bal for some unthinkable purpose, and given in exchange the vestige that enables him or her to form a counterfeit body here in Coldharbour. But they are not native to Oblivion, so a Soul Shriven’s body is a sad imitation of the body worn in life, suffering rapid wear and decay until it dies—a death that is no liberation, for its vestige only forms a body once again, over and over, ad infinitum ….

Such are the facts. What follows is speculation, born of conversations with the Sojourner during his infrequent and unpredictable visits. His theory is that the Soul Shriven’s bodies are flawed because they have lost the focusing principle of their Anuic souls, so their vestiges are imperfect patterns. I concurred that this was likely, and then proposed the theoretical possibility of a Soul Shriven who, despite having lost his or her soul, possessed some other intrinsic Anuic aspect. This shall-we-say "paragon" Soul Shriven would form an unflawed body in Coldharbour that was a perfect duplicate of the body worn in Mundus. In fact, if this paragon bore a sufficiently high Anuic valence, upon contact with Padomaic creatia its body would form almost instantaneously.

The Sojourner scoffed at my theory, but seemed taken with the idea nonetheless. He went on to speculate that if such a thing were possible, it would probably occur in a situation where the Mundus was in existential jeopardy. In that case the Heart of Nirn would spontaneously generate such "paragon" individuals as a way of defending itself from destruction, in a manner analogous to the way the mortal body fights off infection.

Ah, Sojourner—how I miss your stimulating conversation. Such flights of fantasy! And yet, given the wonders I’ve seen in my prolonged existence upon this plane, is anything really impossible?