Birthsigns: The Ritual
In light of the New Year and the stalling of my trip, I decided to jot down some of my knowledge concerning my Birthsign. As I was born in Morning Star, I have The Ritual Birthsign, but there is a good deal of confusion as to what this means. Most Birthsigns have a very specific effect, and while not everyone learns to use the 'active' effects of their own, they normally know them either through a reading of the Firmament or just as common knowledge. The Ritual's uniqueness, however, comes in that it's different within itself. As stated in The Firmament: "Those born under this sign have a variety of abilities depending on the aspects of the moons and the Divines." What this means is that the abilities depend on the moon phases and the planetary positions.
There are two basic parts to The Ritual Birthsign, the first being the Moon Blessing. This is often an outward power, usually related to Conjuration spells. They number well over twenty, and the existence of some is still uncertain. I have known some people who have the ability to crumble or turn almost any undead with a pair of innate spells known as Blessed Word and Blessed Touch. A fellow student during my formative years (born days away from me) was able to turn almost any earth into a golem with what was called Mundane Servant. My own blessing was less showy and not very apparent, but I soon learned that it was Spirited Guide. Essentially, it boils down to my luck is so that almost anything I set as a goal I will eventually reach, if in unexpected ways, so long as I strive for it. This has been proven several times in my life, especially very recently. I still have no idea why that bear liked me so much.
The second part is the Divine Gift. This one is trickier, as it depends on more than just the planetary alignment. Weather, witnesses, hour, and the general beliefs of the locale are all factors that seem to go into what decides a Ritual's Divine Gift. In the end, though, they are always a gift from the gods. Religion of the parents play a key role in this, as an Altmer born to parents on Alinor would most certainly never birth a Ritual child with Talos' Gift (a personal 'spell' that gives one immense strength and melee skill for a short time), yet the same could be said about a Nord couple never having a child with Y'ffre's Gift (the ability to turn a sapling into a full-grown house tree within minutes). I myself was blessed with Akatosh's Gift, which allows me to perceive time as so slow it's nearly frozen for, what feels to me, like ten to fifteen seconds, depending on how quickly I move. It's saved my life more than a few times.
The myriad effects The Ritual grants are intriguing and expansive, with almost innumerable possibilities. It's been studied by mages as far back as anyone can recall. Some say that it's like the Sign itself has its own signs. Some evidence even indicates that its special range is exactly what earned Morning Star the place as the first month of the year when our calendar was first crafted.
Jesse Kay, The Heavy Scribe
Skyrim and its Individual Provinces: The Old Holds
Date: 4E195
As one of the oldest provinces in the Empire, Skyrim's political and economic situation has always been a matter of interest. Seemingly backwards compared to the high political intrigue of High Rock or the cosmopolitan Cyrodiil, Skyrim nonetheless contains a robust and intriguing political landscape, as well as a thriving economy.
Culturally, the Nords are the closest races among Men to cling to their Atmoran ancestry, and their internal politics reflects this. Similar to Cyrodiil's counties or Morrowind's Great Houses, Skyrim is divided into nine distinct holds. These holds are further culturally divided into the Old Holds and West Skyrim. The Old Holds are named due to their shared origin of being the first lands settled by the ancient Atmorans, with Windhelm itself being founded by Ysgrammor in the Merethic Era. These holds are much more isolated from the rest of the province, both geographically and culturally. West Skyrim, in contrast, is much younger than their counterparts to the east, as well as more culturally progressive and intertwined with the other Imperial provinces.
Each hold itself is ruled by a Jarl, who exercise unlimited autonomy on how their individual hold is governed and run. They, however, answer to the High King or Queen of Skyrim. The position is granted by a Moot, a council of all the Jarls of Skyrim specifically meant to determine who the next High King or Queen shall be upon their death or abdication. In theory, the Moot is meant to select the best person for the job, however in practice most High Kings or Queens are children of the predecessor unless the heir proves to either not be a good choice for the position or there being a much more suitable candidate elsewhere. Whomever climbs to the position, the High King or Queen has the authority to override any individual Jarl while also coordinating the province as a whole. This can range from simply raising armies to enacting overarching policy goals that affect the entire province.
The current High King of Skyrim is Torygg, son of Istlod, who rules from his throne in the Blue Palace of Solitude.
The Old Holds
Winterhold
The northernmost province of Skyrim, Winterhold's capital is the city of Winterhold, from which the province receives its name. Founded by the great Archmage Shalidor following the establishment of the College of Winterhold, for much of its history Winterhold was one of the most prosperous holds in Skyrim. At the height of its power, Winterhold even rivaled Solitude in economic and political strength, and was even the seat of the High King or Queen.
However, the Great Collapse of 4E122 changed the hold's prospects practically overnight. For an as of yet unknown reason, currently theorized to either be the work of College mages or long-brewing aftereffects of the Red Year, on that day the Sea of Ghosts turned monstrous and quickly eroded the city's support along the cliffs. Eventually, that support gave way and collapsed, causing much of the city to fall apart and disappear under the sea's monstrous waves. Even almost eighty years later, the province has not recovered, and distrust of the local mages and Dunmer refugee populations remains staggeringly high.
The current economy of Winterhold is made of several key sectors. Despite locals either distrusting or outright disliking the College of Winterhold, the College's mages do provide a valuable commodity in supplying magical services to the rest of the province, including enchantments, spellcasters, alchemical potions, and the necessary trade for raw materials the mages need to operate. For the rest of the province, however, the main source of income stems from mostly mining, fishing, or ice farming. Occasionally, adventurers brave the Dwarven ruins in search of the fabled Dwemer capital of Blackreach, bringing back the scraps of animunculi to melt down into ingots, but those are few and far between.
The only major settlement in Winterhold outside of the capital city is Amol City. Once a prosperous trading town, it is now a barely mentionable village surrounded by crumbling walls, so insignificant that many maps don't include it. The current Jarl of Winterhold is Jarl Korir. There is, however, a large statue of Azura in the Winterhold Mountains that was constructed by Dunmer refugees, who credit the Daedric Prince with warning them of Red Mountain's pending eruption and saving their lives in the process.
The Pale
Neighboring Winterhold and Eastmarch to the east, Whiterun to the south, and Haafingar to the west, The Pale is one of the oldest holds in Skyrim. Mostly shrouded in icy tundra and pine forests, only the southernmost lands are arable. The northern coastline, however, teems with fish, and its central location has made it a useful port of weary seamen.
Its economy is mostly built around a small agricultural and hunting sector, with fishing and lumber being key exports to other provinces. A small cadre of merchants in the capital city of Dawnstar has also sprung up, further expanding the economy.
In regards to Dawnstar, the hold capital presides over rich veins of iron ore. However, The Pale is still one of the poorest holds in the entire province.
The current Jarl of The Pale is Jarl Skald the Elder.
Eastmarch
The oldest and most prosperous of the Old Holds, Eastmarch's capital is the great city of Windhelm. Founded by Ysgrammor himself, Windhelm boasts a strong cultural claim for the Nord people. Unlike its northern neighbors, Eastmarch's environment is much more diverse, containing frosty mountains to the north before turning into a volcanic tundra to the south. Bordered to the east by the Velothi Mountains and to the south by the Frostwater Tundra, which itself contains the Aalto sulfur pools, the hold has emerged as a central piece of Skyrim's political and economic landscape. Many of Skyrim's greatest generals hail from Eastmarch.
Eastmarch's economy is situated along several key sectors. Its rich pine forests in the southern regions has enabled a robust lumber trade, as well as rich ore veins along the nearby Winterhold and Velothi Mountains. In particular, the settlements of Kynesgrove and Darkwater Crossing preside over rich veins of malachite and corundum ores, respectively, which themselves are used for forging of weapons, armor, steel or high-grade iron, and even jewelry. The volcanic soil has also proven to be quite fertile, allowing for several farmsteads to develop in the south. Fishing in the Sea of Ghosts and the Yorgrim River has also proven to be quite lucrative for the brave sailor willing and able to traverse the treacherous waves.
The city of Windhelm itself is also a major source of the province's economy. Situated in a pocket of the Winterhold Mountains at the mouth of the Yorgrim Estuary, its location has enabled it to become a thriving sea port into the mainland from the Sea of Ghosts. As such, it has become a primary trading hub, with services including banking, financing, and more. Currently, the only hold in Skyrim to rival Eastmarch in economic and political power is Hjaalmarch and its capital city of Solitude.
Its current Jarl is Ulfric Stormcloak, who inherited the title from his father, Hoag Stormcloak. The Stormcloak clan has always been a prominent family in Windhelm, stretching back to even before the Second Era. This has awarded the once-extensive family great respect across the province, however Ulfric himself remains controversial. Both for his role in the handling of the Markarth Incident as well as comments he made during the Moot that elected High King Torygg. According to observers, the comments made bordered on treason towards the Mede Empire, and he leads a somewhat rebellious faction that is poised to cause a lot of damage should the current strife in Skyrim escalate further. As such, many are watching him wearily.
The Rift
At one point one of the more prosperous holds in Skyrim, The Rift has unfortunately fallen into corruption and decay these past few decades. Despite official statements to the contrary, it is a well-known secret that the province is home to many of Skyrim's thieves and bandits, who feed on the corruption festering within. Several of the more enterprising sort have taken advantage of the current political strife to expand into the other holds as well. Its capital city of Riften is perhaps the greatest example of this rampant corruption, as it is rumored to be the seat of Skyrim's Thieves Guild.
Despite this, Riften's economy is relatively diverse. Its location along the borders of Morrowind and Cyrodiil has enabled a healthy trade network. The towns of Ivarstead and Shor's Stone are a prospering logging and mining town, respectively, with Ivarstead itself having a thriving tourism trade built around pilgrims attempting the One-thousand Steps up to High Hrothgar. Lake Honrich, upon which Riften sits, contains many species of freshwater fish which are harvested for trade, and the Rift's vast forests teem with game. The fur trade remains a thriving sector of the Rift's economy because of this, especially as Skyrim's colder climate demands such furs for winter clothing. The Rift also houses a significant portion of Skyrim's mead trade thanks to Riften being the home of the Black-Briar family, the largest developer of mead in the province.
The capital city of The Rift is Riften, from which the hold's name is derived. During the Second Era, Riften emerged as Skyrim's principal trading hub, becoming a center of banking and financial activities for the Ebonheart Pact. This new prosperity brought great riches to the city, but it also led to a severe overpopulation problem. Despite this, Riften was able to maintain its prosperity for centuries, with the occasional downturn, until year 4E98. During this year, Jarl Hosgunn Crossed-Daggers ascended to the throne upon the assassination of the previous Jarl during the infamous Void Nights. Many rightfully believed he had been responsible, yet despite the people's protests, he was appointed Jarl. Over the next thirty-one years, he ran the hold with an iron fist, imprisoning anyone who dared to act against him while also enacting crippling taxes on the populace, driving away Riften's businesses in the process, with which he spent almost entirely on himself.
As Riften itself descended further and further into poverty, disease, and famine, he continued to live extravagantly, and even had the audacity to construct an extravagant wooden palace over the course of seven years, which quickly became a symbol of his oppression the people called 'Hosgunn's Folly'. A tipping point was reached in the year 4E129, when the people of the Rift successfully rebelled and overran the city guard. Hosgunn foolishly fled into his palace, only for the oppressed people to simply burn the hated structure to the ground. This act killed the Jarl and his chief supporters, but also destroyed the city to such a degree that it took nearly five years to rebuild. Riften still has not yet recovered from Hosgunn's policies, and his subsequent destruction.
The current Jarl of the Rift is Jarl Laila the Law-Giver.
Trestus Whovinici, Historian at the Imperial Academy
Minor Races of Tamriel 2
I've had more time to study and further question what I know, as well as go over more distant facts (and myths) that don't come up as often. This will be a continuation on my overview of races that you may meet, for good or ill, in Tamriel.
Giants (Jo'Tunn) – To start where I left off, I'll speak of the massive Tundra Striders. Giants could be classified as Men, but for a few large differences. Oddly, their size is not one of them. Some Giants have horn-like growths on their head, similar to some Orsimer, and many have pointed ears. Their ears might cause some to think of them possibly being more closely related to Mer, but a Giant's ears' tapering will bend to the side rather than point up. Many stories seem to indicate that Giants were the first people from Atmora to land on Tamriel and populate Skyrim and some places beyond. They were also the first to meet the Dwemer and called them Dwarves.
Note: while Dwarves weren't all that short, it's believed that they were barely taller than most male Bosmer, therefore even after Men and Falmer arrived the Dwemer would have still been the shortest people in Skyrim.
Most Giants live in semi-nomadic tribes, herding Mammoths as livestock and foraging large amounts of plants, mostly leaves. While omnivorous, their diet mostly consists of large amounts of leaves and other vegetables and a fair portion of mammoth cheese. They supplement it with bits of meat but do not really hunt so much as eat whatever they happened to have to kill that day, with the exception of us smaller mortals. They'll also roast and eat the skeevers caught in the traps set to protect their stored foods from the vermin. Despite tales to the contrary, Giants do not eat people. They will, however, throw the corpses of those who died trying to fight them into a fire, leaving only blackened bones, which may be the source of this myth.
Finally, Giants can and have interbred with Men and Mer. There are more than a few Nords who would boast being descended from Giants while certainly looking like they were, but there are also Orcs and Bretons who have mixed with the Jo'Tunn. This usually ends up with several people much taller than most of their kinsmen from one side and much shorter than the other. There is said to be a tribe of Giants in the north-eastern parts of the Reach who have interbred with the local Reachmen so often they seem to have become something else, referred to as Muspell Jo'Tunn. Interestingly enough, they may have inherited a lot of their Bretonic ancestors' skill for magic, so it may be worth investigating soon.
Falmer (Snow Elves) – While I am in Skyrim, I may as well bring these beings to light. Outside of High Rock, Men do not seem to know how to be humane when it comes to Mer. Yokudans slaughtered the elves from their old continent and then many (who they never met before landing on Tamriel's shores) from ours. The Alessian Order of Cyrodiil chased out the Ayleids who had helped their enslaved forebears at great cost. And then there's the ancient Nords' treatment of the Snow Elves. I will not say Ysgrammor and his Companions were wrong to wage war after Saarthal's destruction, but when a stranger comes to your town and murders a family, you do not respond by having his entire village burned to the ground and all who lives there killed. Retributive justice was not really a concept at the time, however, so the Nords spent the next thirteen or so generations killing and enslaving the Falmer to the last. It's believed a handful may have gotten to Morrowind and hid amongst their Dark Elf kin, but the majority of the survivors went underground under the care of the Dwemer.
Normally, when something like one people fleeing into the care of another happens, there's either a rejection or a grumbling acceptation. The latter happened when the Ayleids ran to the Bosmer and Direnni. The former happened (several times) when a great many Kothringi got on a ship to flee the Knahaten Plague, and now the Redguards have a holiday of mourning, and many poseurs in western High Rock boast about how their ancestors would have taken in the poor wretches and found a way to heal them.
The Dwemer, however, completely accepted the Falmer, but only by enslaving them. It's not clear how quickly it occurred or what all the terms of this enslavement were, but it is what happened. For reasons beyond my understanding, the Dwemer also forced the Falmer into blindness by forcing them to eat a particular mushroom. The exact mushroom is believed to be a relative of Namira's Rot called Blackgrain. Studies on this fungus have proven that it causes blindness in mammals, but serves as part of many subterranean creatures' diets. It also causes a growing dependency in subjects, so they will continue trying to eat it even as it takes away their vision and causes part of the brain to function incorrectly. After subjecting them to this, the Dwemer likely believed they would have an obedient workforce. However, as the recent studies show, Blackgrain also causes heightened aggression and something of a paranoid violent reaction toward anything that can be perceived as a threat. A master threatening to beat you for not doing whatever it is fast enough to his liking would obviously trigger this response eventually.
After the disappearance of the Dwemer, the enslaved Falmer had no one to control them, but likely no idea what to do. The Dwarven automatons still roam the halls of their long dead masters to this day, so they couldn't really stay in those without warring with tireless machines. For thousands of years the Falmer kept underground, building up their numbers, cultivating the mushrooms they all craved, and even taming the massive chaurus insects. In recent times, they've broken up to the surface and had run-ins with those of us who dwell under the sun, likely seeing us as monstrous as we see them. While Falmer attacks reached their peak several years back, they still make occasional raids on the surface or in mines that have touched their territory. Still, there has been a marked shift in their attitudes. Whether that means they've started taking the surface world seriously or are beginning to plan for what they've found, none can say.
Many in the Pigmole Racial Outreach Committee wish to establish some form of non-violent communication with the Falmer, but there is, unfortunately, little known about how the Falmer social structure works (though a sort of matriarch has been observed on occasion) and there isn't much of a communication baseline to work with. Some radicals have suggested capturing a number of them and simultaneously weaning them from Blackgrain while teaching them the Common language, but that is a suggestion that has been almost completely thrown off the table excepting there being extremely dire circumstances for the Falmer.
Reiklings – Small, blue, and believed by some to be Goblin-ken, these pygmy-sized beings live on the island of Solstheim and seemingly nowhere else, though they once existed on the mainland in northern Skyrim, but those have been wiped out. I was only at the island a short time, but did hear tales about them and managed to see a few, but had to pull back when I learned how good their throwing arms are. Their origin is unknown, but some people speculate them to be cousins to Goblins while others think they may be the descendants of a Snow Elf tribe that survived the Nords. I have learned that they are primarily hunter-gatherers, but they have tamed a local wild swine known as a bristleback, which they use as steeds. Whatever their origin, I hope that Pigmole can one day find the funding for their expedition to Solstheim, as they would be more skilled than I in getting hostile, primitive tribesfolk into society.
Shadowsilk Goblins – The Guardian of Lightning had pulled up the Mulukan of both Cyrodiil and Hammerfell to a civilized status, but she never ventured up to Skyrim except for a short time where she teleported to a specific location (and for something completely unrelated and often considered Apocryphal), and she never set foot in Morrowind at all. This didn't keep the Goblins of the Stonefalls down, however. Rather, a couple of adventurous Goblins from Cyrodiil made the trek about a year later and both taught and learned from the Shadowsilks. The crafty Mulukrin of Morrowind took what they were given and ran with it.
There were already major differences between Shadowsilks and most other Mulukan by the time of the Third Era, with the major turning point being sometime in the Three Banners War in the Second Era, when after being pushed from their caves by the Daggerfall Covenant, the Shadowsilk tribe invaded a Mephala cult's secret lair and learned how to tame the giant Venomspitter spiders local to the area. After the Daggerfall forces were repulsed, the Goblins went back to their homes, but hadn't forgotten what they learned.
While other Goblin tribes rose, fell, combined, and split, the Shadowsilk stayed strong and independent, even resisting being ousted by the Dunmer, and absorbed the few tribes that stumbled upon them. The Mer and Men living in Stonefalls decided to leave things be and simply kept a wary eye on the Shadowsilks, whose society was undergoing changes all throughout this time. The idea of a strongest Goblin being leader had fallen by the wayside, and instead their leader had become the craftiest of them, though this leader would still need strength to be considered. Their pantheon also extended, first worshipping a version of Mephala, known as Miphi, alongside Muluk, the Mulukan version of Malacath. They later adopted versions of Boethiah and Azura, but Miphi and Muluk remained as their main gods.
After the Cyrodiilic Goblins came and brought knowledge of Goblins from other lands, the chief at the time, Tota Thintooth, saw an opportunity. He sent Goblins from out of the caves and had them build some structures with the travelers' help, but this caught the attention of the local Dunmer. After having barely made it through the Oblivion Crisis, none wanted to deal with possible Goblin invasions, so Houses made a small army and prepared to try and whittle down the Goblin numbers, if not completely drive them out. Tota figured this would happen, and so he had the Goblins retreat and go back underground, leaving structures above for the Dunmer to try and puzzle out. As they did, though, traps far more sophisticated and deadly than anything ever made by the Shadowsilks before felled many soldiers before the small platoon was routed. Several of those taken by traps, however, were not killed, and thus taken prisoner. With hostages in hand, some of them even being a little important, Tota was able to make demands of the Great Houses, and thus did the Goblin city-state of Silkstone begin.
The structures were built upon until they came together in a grand building that served as both the city center and main temple of Silkstone, called Miphi's Nest, which was and still is an amazing piece of architectural design, covering a small valley and its three caves that now lead to subterranean chambers while also reaching towards the heavens, much of the inside of its upper half being able to interchange halls and rooms like the Cyrodiil Mulukan were only beginning to learn to do. Houses and businesses began cropping up, with a few intrepid Dunmer seeing an opportunity in a brand new market, or a place where they thought they could be the giant among dwarfs. Tota and his successor, Rider Thintooth, foresaw them attempting such, but hedged against it with specifically drawn out laws that kept the Dunmer from gaining much power over the Goblins. This intermixing of people eventually caused a change in the Shadowsilks, and nowadays most Shadowsilk Goblins have skin much darker than their Cyrodiilic kin, and red eyes are common amongst them.
When the back-to-back crises of Red Mountain's eruption and the Accession War came, Silkstone proved to be a bastion where many refugees would find shelter, but once they reached capacity, any more seeking sanctuary had to be turned away. They further assisted Morrowind in doing all they could to make the Stonefalls habitable again, a task that took them decades even with other Great Houses putting in the effort. By this time, the Shadowsilks had become something of a great power in the region, and were speculated to only keep growing in influence and authority as time went on. The Houses tried to consolidate, but thanks to their actions after the eruption and during the war, the Goblin House had become as entrenched as Miphi's Nest. While not a far-reaching power, in the area of the Stonefalls and along the northwestern bank of the River Thir, the Shadowsilks' fingers run deep.
Satyrs – Among the number of races that lived in Valenwood before the arrival of Aldmer, Satyrs have the most confusing origin. Centaurs share ancestry with elves, Giants (some Giant tribes once lived in Valenwood) share ancestry with Man. The Faerie races seemed to be descendants of a third faction of Ehlnofey. Satyrs, however, cannot be determined to have come from beasts, man, or mer. Their own myths speak of how their first ancestor was born purely from Nir then mated with Nymphs, Dryads, and other Fey to show them how to bear children while also having his own. While it's likely there are some embellishments to this tale, similar things have happened in different histories, and the fact that this happened during the mutable Dawn Era probably helped things along.
Satyrs have never had a large population or advanced civilization, though they did have a steady migration from Valenwood after the Bosmer became the dominant race, similar to Centaurs, and then settled around in the forests and plains of southern Hammerfell and northeastern Cyrodiil. They were first mistaken for a breed of Minotaur, but closer observation reveals that what should be cattle-like on a Minotaur is goat-like on a Satyr. Most Satyrs live in tribes that function almost like herds, with the occasional loner that tries to fit into civilized society. Pigmole has attempted to bring them into the fold, but the majority of Satyrs prefer to live as they always have, as a part of nature. They actually tend to invite civilized people to live among them, and some do accept, though the lifestyle of a Satyr is probably not suitable for any Man, Mer, Khajiit, or Argonian.
Satyrs worship Nirn itself, as well as all of nature, but they are not above inviting the debauchery of Sanguine into their lives. Marriage is nonexistent to them, and the word for family is almost always interchangeable with the word for tribe. The only thing they ever crave from cities and towns is good food and wine, which they will often trade for en mass with woodwind instruments, carvings, and gemstones found during their travels. Part of their wish for delicious food is what drove them from Colovia almost as much as being eaten drove them from Valenwood. Some people who live near a Satyr tribes' stomping ground find them to be a nuisance, while others just see them as much a part of the forests as the trees and animals.
Jesse 'Bubba' Kay, The Heavy Scribe
Journal: Property of Yang Xiao Long
Entry 1:
Kodlak got me this journal the other day. Figured it was about time I start writing about all the crazy stuff that's been going on, if only for my sanity's sake. Plus, should we ever get back to Vale, I figure we can auction this baby off for the movie rights. Or would it be television rights? Eh, depends on how long we stay here.
Where to begin...?
Entry 2:
Okay, so a lot has happened since we turned up in Skyrim. Starting to think I've inherited Uncle Qrow's bad luck that he's always complaining about. First we get our collective asses handed to us by a dragon, I accidentally took a guy's head off with my fist, Weiss drank a guy's blood until he was practically a prune, we fought another dragon (whose soul Ruby apparently ate), and then I got turned into a werewolf after Blake's crazy series of incidents. Well, I say turned, but it was sorta my choice. It was either a werewolf with most of me under control or a werelion and possibly no control. Honestly, it wasn't that hard a decision to make.
It's not so bad. My senses are top notch and everything seems so much clearer. Me and Ruby did a few tests and we've found that I can hear a person yelling from half a mile away and track down a person through smell from twice that distance. That's when I'm not transformed. Transforming easily doubles that and gives me a huge strength boost to boot, though I've found that magic's way more difficult in beast form. Pretty much impossible, really. I could go without the eating people part (almost always on accident. Usually I don't even notice that I'm swallowing until it's too late), and there's this sort of restlessness not really letting me get a full eight hours straight, but I'm working on it. Farkas and Vilkas need to stop smelling so good, though! They are way too old for me, no matter how sexy the wolf bit thinks they are!
Entry 3:
Okay, so how to put this thing into words? There's a sort of voice in the back of my head? Not really. It's not a separate entity, not even really a split personality. It's still me that's saying and thinking it, but it's different from what's mainly me. I like to think of it as a shoulder-wolf, and sometimes I imagine a tiny werewolf whispering things into my ear, trying to get me to act out my more base instincts.
In any case, I have this constant hunger hanging in the back of my mind that always grows. It wants me to hunt, to kill, to eat, and the tougher the prey the better. (And of course, I've gotten a bit more snuggly, almost like a puppy really, with the folks I know and love.) Aela says it's the Blood calling me. Skjor said it's good to give it a little, and Kodlak agrees, but warned me not to overindulge it. Usually after a few animals are chomped down on it fades back, but it always starts worming its way back up. I think it's actually worse for Farkas. It's probably why he's always so constrained. He's not purposefully unenthusiastic, he just doesn't want to end up doing something he'll regret. I saw how his eyes flashed the other day when during some fistfight between a couple of dudes one of them split the other's eyebrow. They called it with that, but Farkas' face looked like a grinning savage for a split second before he seemed to reel himself back in. He looked ashamed and horrified. I think it's different for all of us.
Entry 4:
Skjor died. His funeral just happened a few days ago, and everyone's feeling down. A member of my pack is gone, and the wolf in me feels it thoroughly. I think Aela's taking it hard in particular. Those two were...close, for lack of a better word. I'm not entirely sure they were mates, but I wouldn't be surprised if they were. We're going to have to watch out for her. She's already tried going out on her own, but I managed to talk her out of it. For how long, I have no idea.
Seeing Skjor dead has reminded me of my own impending mortality. Not the best thoughts for an eighteen year-old girl, but here I am. From what I know, my soul's kinda attached to Hircine's Hunting Grounds. Not the worst place, but there are certainly better ones. I've been looking for ways out of it, and they so far seem to be limited to somehow turning myself into a vampire, which would honestly just land me somewhere far, far worse; attaching myself to another afterlife even more strongly, which I have no idea on how to do; or curing myself. But, since the actual affliction is caused by a symbiotic presence, my body's actually welcoming towards it. If there's a cure, it's liable to be something magical or extremely hard to do. Until then, I'll just browse the religious sections until I figure out how to switch my soul over to Mara or Dibella or something.
Entry 5:
Ran across another werewolf in Falkreath, locked away in their dungeon for killing a young girl. He wasn't related to the Companions. I think he was from Cyrodiil, actually. Still, he had something called the Ring of Hircine and somehow got it stuck to me. He told me how I might be able to get it off and I'm going to have to do it, too. I compulsively changed just before we had to fight some vampires and then back again right in the middle of fighting a Vampire Lord, all thanks to the stupid thing. Ruby saved me before the creep could do anything. Sure, I could've still smashed him into a pulp, but I was naked at the time and fighting while naked is never comfortable. Especially when you're being leered at by a man-bat created by the Rape King.
Well, it's off to hunt for me. Gotta find that White Stag.
Entry 6:
Well, that escalated quickly.
So Hircine (or a piece of Hircine? Honestly, the whole 'divine aspect' thing confuses the hell out of me) told me to go kill Sinding, the other werewolf, and, I quote, "Tear the skin from his body, and make it an offering to me." Now, Sinding did a really messed up thing, but even though I couldn't really come to grips with it, I guess I could understand what was going on with him when it happened. In the end, he swore to stay away from civilization, and I helped save him, but promised to take him down myself if he ever becomes a problem.
And apparently Hircine was cool with that. Me joining Sinding caused all those other hunters he sent after him, including some Silver Hands, to run for the hills, and he loved that. So much so that he took off that stupid curse from the Ring, and now I have total control over my transformations. It lets me change quicker and painlessly, going from werewolf to human and back again as often as I want, even stopping halfway through shifting. I'm gonna try growing just the wolf ears and surprise Blake when I get it down. It'll be great!
Entry 7:
So I went to liaison with this new Vampire Hunter guild called the Dawnguard, as the two of us already were acquainted thanks to me and one of their members solving a vampire problem in Morthal together, and the first thing that happens is their boss gives me a job. Well, I'm a nice gal, and the vampire problem is getting worse from what I've seen and heard. The Hall of the Vigilant (Vigilants of Stendarr being anti-Daedra monks) was destroyed by vampires recently, and one of their own thinks he knows why and what they were after. I'm going with him to investigate it.
Entry 8:
Looking back, I have to agree with my earlier sentiment. We're cursed. One moment, we're helping Weiss on her quest to find a magic doohickey because a magic orb-man told her, the next there's some guy threatening to destroy the world and we have to get a MacGuffin from some other ancient place to stop him. At least we succeeded there.
I also met an ancient draugr-esque woman who wasn't really undead, just undying, named Iorel. She ended up asking me to kill her, which, I know, is a pretty heavy request, but I could kinda get. Part of me wanted to tell her there was plenty to still live for in the world, but I realized that it's not her world. Everyone she knew and loved died thousands of years ago. Her kingdom was toppled and overtaken before then. And it wasn't like she could just throw on a hood and sneak around modern civilization.
Still, after the fact, I remembered I set my scroll to recording video and ended up getting our whole conversation. Once everything from Ancano's attempt at gaining unlimited power was calmed down, me and the librarian went over it and he started penning it all to paper. Well, it's not every day you meet and talk to someone who witnessed history from the losing perspective.
Entry 9:
Everything sucks right now.
Tolan ran ahead, then me and Weiss had to chase him halfway across Skyrim only for him to turn up dead. We went ahead through the ruins and fought off a bunch of vampires, then found Serana. Seeing as she didn't immediately bite or otherwise try to attack us, we played nice and even agreed to take her back to her home, even though she and Weiss pretty much figured she'd been underground for thousands of years. Thought it would give her peace of mind to see what had happened to it.
Turned out, her home was still in one piece, and her father, the head vampire in all of Skyrim, was still in charge. Then we found out that that big hunk of whatever she's been carrying around was an Elder Scroll, which we had inadvertently hand-delivered to the head vampire in all of Skyrim. So now Weiss is playing infiltrator in a castle full of evil vampires – and I mean full! – and I'm heading back to the Dawnguard to let them know about everything.
Why can't life just be simple for once?
Entry 10:
Met a lot of nice people traveling around; a few even came along for the ride. Anum-La just kinda invited herself along a time ago, but she's grown on me. But now we've got this guy named Yngvarr (I asked, that's how it's spelled). He's an old guy, but huge! And he has a bear that he rides into battle! Essentially, he's peak Nord. He's also a werebear, but that's a rather minor detail. I've never seen him transform, but he does have a sweet tooth and a thing for berries and salmon.
He's decided to show me and Anum-La as many survival skills as he can cram into our noggins. At first I thought he was just a full gentleman about everything, but then we picked up Rumarin yesterday, and his eyes keep wandering over to the elf. Not sure how to think of it. I haven't asked, but Rumarin could be older than him for all I know. Kinda makes me wonder how elf-human couples work out their differences in that regard. I mean, Weiss has mentioned this one Dunmer wizard who's been alive for four thousand years a few times. Even still, Yngvarr's in his twilight years and Rumarin's pretty young, even if only by elf standards so…
Still, feels like a good group. We just need a dedicated mage, preferably a healer, and we'll have the perfect fantasy role-playing party, minus the role-playing.
The Imperial Legion: Its History and Organization
Date: 4E190
It has been said that the founding of the Third Empire of Tamriel was based on two main forces. The first was Tiber Septim himself, then known as Talos of Atmora. His shrewd tactical ability and diplomatic expertise was known throughout all of Tamriel's provinces, for good and ill. The other, and perhaps more consequential, was the very army he led in his conquests: what became known as the Imperial Legion. He found it a rabble of disorganized, motley soldiers and mages from his lands of barely ten-thousand, and he left it an organized and powerful machine exceeding eighty-thousand. Indeed, there is little question that, at its height, the Imperial Legion was the greatest fighting force Tamriel had ever seen, rivaled only by the unknown empires of Akavir. Even the armies of the Third Altmeri Dominion during the Great War pale in comparison.
History
Formally founded at the dawn of the Third Era, the Imperial Legion was among the most influential facets of early Imperial society. True, other empires had fielded large standing armies before, but none to such a scale as Tiber Septim conceived. Consisting of over a hundred-thousand soldiers and cavalry, made up of highly trained conscripts and volunteers from around the Empire, it was and is practically a civilization. Doctors, engineers, mages, scientists, cartographers, and many other professions all find a home in the Imperial Legion.
Over time, the Legion's purpose shifted from conquering new lands to enforcing the ones already held by the Empire. Due to its unprecedented size, the number of threats that encroached upon the Empire was astronomical. The Legion was uniquely equipped to handle such a monumental responsibly, which was undertaken with gusto. Many a bandit, necromancer, and Daedra worshipper met their end by a Legionnaire's blade.
The Imperial Simulacrum and the Oblivion Crisis
Unfortunately, it was the dual events of the Imperial Simulacrum and the Oblivion Crisis that directly led to the near collapse of the Imperial Legion. During Uriel Septim VII's early reign, he was known as a brash and heavy-handed ruler who wanted to bring the disparate provinces more closely together. To do this, he grew the Legion to its greatest size since its foundation, sending entire legions to crush any threat to his rule and ambition. This led to the Legion becoming unwieldy, and once Jagar Tharn banished Uriel Septim to Oblivion, he deliberately mismanaged the Legion and the Empire to obscene levels. For ten years, it was practically anarchy with bandits, Orsimer warbands, brigands and monsters running amok. Once the Eternal Champion managed to stop Jagar Tharn and bring an end to his usurpation, Uriel Septim returned a changed man.
In sharp contrast to his earlier days as sovereign, Uriel severely cut back on the use of the Legion as an extension of his will, delegating them more towards keeping the peace. Instead, he relied more on the Blades, a shadowy cabal of spies and bodyguards that served at the Emperor's discretion, to subtly influence the provinces and achieve his goals. For several decades, this strategy worked to bring the provinces more closely together than any other time in the Empire's history. The Blades even had a direct role in the actions of the Hero of Daggerfall and the Nerevarine.
However, the act of reducing the size of the Legion had an unforeseen development which only became apparent after the Mythic Dawn cult assassinated the Emperor and all but one of his sons, plunging the world into the Oblivion Crisis. The hordes of Daedra overwhelmed much of the Legion, devastating the Empire and killing nearly a quarter of the continent's total population in merely six months. Were it not for the actions of the Five Heroes, who bravely led the Legion and other warriors in Cyrodiil, all would have been lost. In the end, it took the sacrifice of the last living Septim to bring about an end to the crisis, but the damage was already done.
With the Empire in shambles, the Legion was shrunken down to its core components. This allowed for the Argonian Invasion of Morrowind, which the Empire was unable to respond to. This lack of assistance directly led to the Great Houses regaining control over what was left of Morrowind following the Red Year and the Argonian Invasion, leading to an independent Morrowind. The calamitous events of the Stormcrown Simulacrum, the period following Imperial Potentate Ocato's assassination during an unsuccessful bid to elect a new emperor in 4E015, further weakened both the Empire and the Legion. Each change in hands over the Ruby Throne led to an increasingly lawless land. The Thalmor took advantage of this crisis, if not possibly conducting the assassination of the Potentate and orchestrated a coup d'état in the Summerset Isle, seceding it from the Empire entirely, reclaiming Alinor, and founding the Third Aldmeri Dominion. By the time the Mede Dynasty finally obtained full control of the remnants of the Empire in 4E029, the Thalmor were already too entrenched and as such, no attempt to retake the Isles was made.
This would prove to be a mistake.
The Great War
If the Imperial Simulacrum weakened the Imperial Legion and the Oblivion Crisis broke its back, the Great War nearly decapitated it. By 4E171, the Aldmeri Dominion had become a veritable superpower on the continent. Its army and navy rivaled that of the Empire, along with an equally sizable economy. An uneasy peace had existed between the two powers for decades, broken only by the occasional border skirmish and political discord. That all changed when the Dominion brazenly demanded that the Empire pay hefty tribute, surrender large swaths of Hammerfell to the Dominion, disband the Blades, and outlaw the worship of Talos, among other outrageous demands. The newly crowned Titus Mede II refused, only for the Thalmor to present the head of every Blade operative found in Dominion lands. They invaded days later, opening fronts in both Cyrodiil and Hammerfell, catching the Legion off-guard and decapitating much of its leadership in the opening salvos.
For the next five years, the Empire was pushed back closer and closer to the brink. City after city, county after county, the Aldmeri advance seemed unstoppable. However, a series of miscalculations on the Thalmor's part eventually enabled the Legion to resupply its forces from High Rock and Skyrim. The first was typical Altmer arrogance. Due to their early victories, they allowed themselves to believe that the Empire was weaker than they had originally anticipated. As such, they allowed themselves to take increasingly bold and risky actions that they hoped would hasten their victory while further depleting their forces and stretching their supply lines. The second was the Battle of Skaven, in which Lady Arranelya's Aldmeri Army clashed with General Decianus' Legions in Hammerfell. While the battle itself was indecisive, it did halt the Aldmeri advance and allow the Legions to regroup.
Seeing how their window of opportunity was shortening, the Thalmor redirected all of their forces onto the siege of the Imperial City, eventually forcing Titus Mede II to fight his way out. The city was subsequently sacked, becoming known as one of the worst atrocities ever committed during wartime. Nearly ten percent of the city's inhabitants were murdered, and countless more had their lives irrevocably ruined by the Dominion soldiers' brutality. The Thalmor, believing themselves triumphant, began to discuss terms of surrender which Titus Mede II pretended to be interested in. Instead, he merely regathered his forces and launched an attack to retake the city, himself leading the charge with Goldbrand in hand. The Thalmor were routed, and the decisive battle led to Imperial victory.
Still, with the Empire heavily weakened, the Emperor and his generals knew that it was only a matter of time before the Aldmeri Dominion recuperated their losses and invaded again. As such, the Emperor reluctantly signed the White-Gold Concordat, which ceded large amounts of territory from Hammerfell to the Dominion as well as the outlaw of Talos worship. Enraged, the Redguards of Hammerfell seceded, eventually driving the Thalmor from their lands entirely, while Skyrim was plunged into its still ongoing civil war. Some question whether the treaty was worth it, whether the Empire gave away too much.
What isn't in question however, was the war's effect on the Legion itself. From the war came some of the greatest generals the Empire had ever seen, including Generals Decianus, Jonna, Tulius, and Ulfric Stormcloak. Knowing that the Great War was only the precursor to a large conflict yet to come, the Empire has been undergoing a constant state of military expansion, locking the two powers in a cold war that lasts to this day.
Organization
As the preeminent military machine in Tamriel, the Imperial Legion has a sophisticated organizational structure. As of 4E190, there are twenty legions composing the Imperial Legion's total forces. Each legion is made up of roughly five-thousand soldiers and cavalry, itself comprised of several smaller subdivisions.
The smallest group making up a Legion is the Contubernium, which is composed of eight legionnaires. Ten Contuberniums make a Centuria. Six Centuria make a Cohort. Finally, ten Cohorts make a Legion.
A Legion is joined by a permanently attached cavalry unit called an Eques Legionis, consisting of nearly a hundred-and-twenty cavalry. The remaining eighty individuals of a Legion is the leadership, including centurions, legates, and the presiding general.
Rank
The Legion, since its inception, has served as a model of a meritocracy. All individuals start their services as a legionnaire, and through dedicated service can rise through their ranks. The first rank above a legionnaire is a Decanus, who leads a Contubernium. Its cavalry equivalent is the Decurion. Above them is the Tessararius, who themselves are led by an Optio. Each Centuria is itself led by a Centurion, the commanding centurion being the Primus Pilus. Above the centurion is the Legate, who answers only to the commanding general of the Legion. Only the most skilled legionnaires, who have proven their ability, can rise to this prestigious rank, and their word often has ears beyond that of the battlefield.
Specialty Units
Beyond the traditional ranking structure, the past two centuries have introduced a new assortment of recruits beyond the traditional races of Tamriel. Unfortunately, many were only implemented in the closing year of the Great War, which itself proved to be decisive enough to warrant their inclusion.
Minotaurs and Ogres, thanks to their large stature and enormous strength, proved to be excellent shock troops and siege breakers. Often they would be outfitted with tower shields, which would protect both themselves and their comrades from enemy fire. Originally, such a tactic was considered to be impractical due to the tower shield's size being too great for the smaller races, however after a few Minotaurs and Ogres proved themselves capable of effectively wielding such equipment with ease, the tactic began to spread. Now, a core component of a legion is the advancing shield wall generated by Minotaur and Ogre legionnaires.
Goblins, thanks to their natural knack for engineering, have proved to be some of the best military engineers the Legion had ever seen, shown in the infamous Battle of Pigmole. At one point, a bridge leading into their city was destroyed by the Thalmor, and the Goblins not only reconstructed it that night, they managed to improve its structural integrity out of spite.
Out of High Rock came the Centaur Knights. Composed of a partnership between a centaur and a man or mer, the pair train for years to build trust and loyalty between them. By the time their training is complete, many knights regard their partner as members of their own family, often quite literally. There have been many tales of centaurs invited to their rider's familiar outings and vice versa. Nevertheless, the benefit of a Centaur Knight cannot be understated. Rather than merely a rider on a horse, the Centaur Knight is two warriors acting as one, with both mount and rider equally capable for combat. A plethora of armament combinations exist for Centaur Knights, such as a bow-wielding Centaur and a rider wielding a lance, or a spear-centaur with the rider using a sword and shield.
Harpy fliers, ironically, are itself an Aldmeri invention, one that was adopted and refined by Imperial Generals. Originally, Harpies only served as messengers or supply movers. However, during the Battle of Pigmole, the Thalmor agent Capric Thorn recruited a group of harpies into assisting his siege, where he had them drop heavy flechettes (heavy steel arrows and bolts invented by Thorn during the battle) onto the Goblin fortifications. The Goblins had no defense for such a tactic, allowing Capric to rout them and obtain victory. Inspired by this action, the Legion began its own recruitment of Harpies into its ranks, which itself had the effect of boosting Harpy morale. Now, the aptly named Harpy Aerial Knights pester their opponents from the air with a variety of weapons. Heavy flechettes have been relegated to merely an opening salvo, the rest of their arsenal composed of javelins and short bows. A few brave individuals even fly into battle wielding spears. Due to the number of Harpies living in Empire-controlled lands, the number of Harpy Aerial Knights is limited.
Another specialty unit within the Legion hail from the unique physiology of the Khajiit. Despite their homeland being ruled by the Thalmor, a fair number of Khajiits live in Imperial provinces both in migrating caravans and as permanent settlers. Because of this, there are many Khajiit warriors who belong to the Legion. The Legion has found many uses for these Khajiit warriors, using each form's unique characteristics. Cathay-rahts, Ohmes, and Ohmes-raht make up the bulk of the Khajiit contingents, with Pahmar-rahts and Senches operating in similar roles as Centaur Knights. Senche-rahts even serve in a similar capacity as war elephants, only with claws instead of tusks. The Dagi often serve as excellent scouts, using their smaller size to go where others cannot tread, and many a puzzled soul has been outsmarted by the housecat-like Alfiq, making them excellent spies. Still, for as many Khajiit who honorably serve in the Legion, yet even more fill the Dominion's ranks, often using the very same tactics we employ.
The advent of these specialty ranks has greatly bolstered the Legion's strength, which will only continue to grow in the years to come. Had they been utilized at the beginning of the war, perhaps there was a chance for a greater outcome of that terrible conflict. Regardless, with the lessons learned from the Great War, the Imperial Legion stands tall to protect the Empire and its citizens. A network of forts dot the border between Cyrodiil and the Aldmeri provinces of Valenwood and Elsweyr, aimed at the prevention of another invasion.
Now, an uneasy peace exists between the Empire of Tamriel and the Aldmeri Dominion. Another war is coming, that much is certain. Unless another great hero emerges from legend to save the Empire at its darkest hour, the only thing separating the Empire from Thalmor tyranny are the stalwart swords, spears, shields, and bows of the Imperial Legion
Trestus Whovinici, Historian at the Imperial Academy
[~][~]