The Dark Elf's Rare Books

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Svartalfar
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The Dark Elf's Rare Books

Post by Svartalfar »

As I have more free time now, I'll write texts for PT. I will translate some books I wrote for my own mods too, ones I judge relevant for our project.

Welcome to the Highrock part of my library.

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Post by Svartalfar »

First one, is a highly partial and revengful book about the siege of Orsinium and the Order of Diagna's alleged intentions.

Spoiler
Why Orsinium was destroyed
By Urgati gra-Jorchad
The Order of Diagna said many things about Orcs after Orsinium destruction. They even claimed that we deserved our fate, because the siege and the lootings were just retributions for years of giant goblins' raids. It's true, we raided them, but they never told why.
Our raids were fueled by the vengeful spirits of their own victims, Elves and Humans slaughtered by those bloodthirsty warriors. Their destroyed our tribes, our camps, our cities while they carved their bloody way into our lands.
But the main strength of these barbaric criminals is not their violence and their mastery of the sword: it is their forked-tongue and their smoothtalking.

In just an handful of years, they succeded in crafting an image of rightfulness and civilization, stories of glorious deeds against mongrels or evil elven sorcerers. They accused the 'savage' Goblins and Orcs of the unrest plaguing their neighbor lands while they chased them there. The crimes of this "Ra Gada" still hatched like wounds the people of the West but, the "redguards" are already accepted in their adopted lands!
So yes, we answered their violence by ours. Our tribes fought waves of invaders as other races faced them. But we never surrender. This is why the Redguards hate us, we refused to let them seized our homelands. After years and years of struggles, we even almost pushed them back! It was when Malooc, Malacath's avatar descended upon our land to unite us all. But it was too late, and we still failed.
Defeat was our mistake, because it opened new opportunities to ra gada's slanders. Our union changed human kingdoms opinions about our kins. When a new union happens as Orsinium rose to power, they answered the call of a minor invaders' sect, the Order of Diagna.

Officially, it was to crush our mighty kingdom, but this is nothing bu forgery. All of our ennemies had a secret agenda, the Order too. The feud between them was a one-way slaughter of our kind, but the Order still managed to pose as victims and virtuous. But the truth is, their intentions were all but noble!
Diagna is for those rascals the Orichalc god, a rare ore that were abundant in Orc lands. In fact, we mastered its craft long before the Ra Gada flooded our homeland, even before the Dwarves settled there. This is its craving for Orichalc that fueled the Order's plot. Diagna's worshippers wanted the Redguards to own all orichalc veins and couldn't bare the idea of other tribes controling them.
After the siege, as the great and noble winners, it was easy for them to deem us as the true agressors and the only danger, chasing us all the way to our mountainous fortresses, and bringing us back to our old lifestyle. If we raid, it is because the Order deprived us of everything!
These are the true motivations of the siege of Orsinium. That foul and foolish people, the "Yokus", destroyed their own land and won't stop before crushing all opposition on their new country. And their proselyte fanatics, clothed in high virtues, slaughtered my people for his welth and nothing more. They are destroyers, looters and brutes, but WE are the ones called monsters!

Death on them all!

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Post by Svartalfar »

A more technical work, maybe reserved to specialist mages or Direnni. Might need some corrections.
Spoiler
The Transmutated Shape
Treaty of induced mutations
The 'Transmutation of the Shape' is how scholars called a durable morphological alteration, induced (most of the time) by magical experiments or rituals. Those modifications happen knowingly, while created by a capable wizard, or by accident, like when a useless apprentice barge without warning into your lab and spoil years of hard work!
Thou shan't confuse transmutation and metamorphosis, which is a total conversion of the genuine nature of a being or object into another (known or not, but already existing). Changing lead into gold or an apprentice into a gremlin for instance, is an act of metamorphosis. Transmutation is more about gitfing said apprentice with the arms of said gremlin instead of his own. It is a partial but permanent transformation (and also a suitable punishment).

Transmutated beings are entirely new creatures, shaped by the sum of its legacies. In a sense, it is a fastest version of cattle breeding except that the wizard can select the caracteristics of two, three or more species and give them to another.
Thou want a powerfull bodyguard, like an Ogre or a Troll, but without the size of the first nor the fire vulnerability of the last? Select what you want from the Troll and infuse it into the Ogre. Now thou want him to be obedient and docile? Transmute in him the loyalty of a dog! The result might be a little hairy and smelly but it will be docile and of a reasonable size for your doorjams.
Thou can't stand those capricious deadra servants thou use as homing pigeons anymore but true birds are even more unreliable? Transmute the cliffracer endurance and quickness into smart bird like a crow, and thou'll gain a beast able to tirelessly fly for days! The possibilities are endless!

Off course, the required knowledge is off limit for the unseasoned and need years of trial and errors. Attempting those advanced alterations of the natural world without proper preparations only lead to shameful abominations (at least I hope you'd be ashamed, this kind of behavior is unworthy of a mage!)
Those regrettable results are often evil or dangerously feral (or both), and show physical aberrations or mental disorder. Even so, accidents sometimes bring picturesque results: hybrids unable to reproduce, but mostly harmless. No one can explain these chaotic results, but in my personal opinion, wizards plagued with them simply didn't understand what they were doing.
As such, I heard of a bat fused with a grimoire, that could understand human speech and write on itself to communicate; of perfectly normal creature except for their bright pink shell or fur; or off course, of the witches' monstrous transformations.

Those daedra worshippers are indeed masters of the transmutation and metamorphosis arts. They can change themselves into mutant like the corrupted hags, or completely into other creatures, like lamias or harpies.
But the Transmutation true masters are without a doubt the ones whose whispered into their disfigured ears: their dark patrons the Daedra Princes. They use it for their own schemes against each other, like Hircine shaping an always better hunting beast or Peryite corrupting our bodies. This is how, in my not-so-humble opinion, maledictions like lycanthropy or vampirism were brought into our world.
So, every unusual forms of known daedra (like a wingeg Scamp, a giant and bright red Clanfear of a blazing Ogrim) are most likely their use of transmutation on their own or other corporeal body.

<the rest of the book is filled with heavily annotated schemes. They are too cryptic without the proper knowledge>

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Post by Svartalfar »

A diary. Namok gra-Vulbuz was an NPC in one of my mod, a single Orc burdened by her destiny and "longing" for a spouse. We helped her to find an husband as well as some relics of her clan.
She can be in Orsinium or northern Highrock now.
Spoiler
Vulbuz Clan's legacy
By Namok gra-Vulbuz

My father often told me the story of our clan, of its origin and its demise, both quick and brutal. Everything start with my great-grandfather.
He was clansman of the Nagorm clan at the time of King Gortwog's own grandfather. One day, he stood out in a fight against harpies, whose treathened the clan's llama herds. He personally slaughtered six of those foul beasts, of which their matriarch. As a reward, the clan chieftain granted him the freedom to found its own clan.
As such, my forefather founded the Vulbuz clan and its emblem, a llama eye surrounded by harpy's quills. He took wives, gather around young warriors and started a family, the old fashion way. But, instead of founding his own fortress, he chose to claim an abandoned breton one, remoted in the Wrothgar Mountains.
This was nothing but a daring bet. The Vulbuz clan only possessed an handful of warriors and little llama cattle and while ruined and isolated, the old fortress was erected near the city of Newing, which lusted the rich copper deposits of the region. However, the Bretons let our clan claimed the fortress without acting.
For a time, the Vulbuz clan thrived. Newing city, glad that a brave clan secured its northern frontiers, even trade cattles with him for copper ore or weapons. But one day, Malacath abandonned them.

Mor Vulbuz, the clan's citadel, was raided by a Giant clan, and plundered in one night. My grandfather (not even an adult at that time) was one of the few who could escape. When I was young, my father told me that he came back the following night, despite the danger, to reclaim the Vulbuz Waraxe from his father dead body, before regrouping with the last survivors.
The clan scattered after that awfull night. Only the wise woman and one of my grandfather's sister stayed with him during his initiation journey. Some years later, when he reached adulthood, he made a choice that sealed our clan's fate. He enrolled into Pelagius IV's legions, hoping to live an honorable life.
My father didn't talk much about this time, in contrast to my grandfather. Althought he died when I was very young, I still remember his long and passionate stories , he told us sometimes, between two coughings. While I didn't remember much of their content, I think I manage to patch together some facts and memories to restore them whole.

During his time as a soldier, he fought against Imperials to bring back peace in an Empire he didn't heard about, task he pursued under Uriel VII. His sister, that joined the Legion with him, died a few months after their enrolment. I think my grandfather still mourned her death, even in his last years. I heard no hard word about her, only loving ones. As for the wise woman, I don't know what she became. I guess she disapproved his choice and left him when he tried to blend into human society.
During his service, he met my grandmother and married as an Empire citizen. My father was born soon after, and grew up in a fort between Hightrock and Skyrim (which he forgot the name) where his parents, both legionnaires were parked. Once adult, he became a merchand and married my mother circa 383. My grandparents, still young, were delighted. When the War of the Bend'r-mahk started, I was only six.
The War hurt my family the hard way. We lived near Dragonstar at that time, and the city and its surrounding were engulfed in a sea of violence and bloodshed. My grandparents lost their lives and my father was badly injured. He never really healed, and stayed crippled for the rest of his life. Hour home burnt, we flew to the west. When two years later a charismatic warlord, King Gortwog gro-Nagorm, found a new haven for our kin, we reunited with the Nagorm clan, where I spent the remaining years of my childhood.

This is all there is to know about the brief story of the Vulbuz clan, finally back to home. Once I reach adulthood, I joined Gortwog's Heralds, an adventurer party sent across the continent to show the might of New Orsinium... before realising that braving unknown dangers all days, freezing to death in remoted lands or being eaten alive by fungus in the humid south weren't what I thrived for. So, I set foot in Winterhold, where I became a fisherwoman. This way I had a few deal of adventure, plus somewhere dry I could call home. The clan and his history had disappeared from my life, until today.
Today, my father is dead, and this truth is unbearable. Even if I burnt the letter, I didn't erase what haunt me now: I am the last legacy of my father, of my entire clan. All my brothers are dead or missing, only me remain, an old girl that has forgotten for too long where she came from. Now I have to bear the burden of my duty: I have to save the clan I severed my ties with, make him live one generation longer. After all, I'm sure my old mother will be delighted once she'll learn she finally have grandkids.

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Post by Svartalfar »

A somewhat recent and mostly irrelevant scholar report about the Rat God. It states which were the theories about this deity at the time, but nothing more. Can be found in Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Highrock.
Spoiler
Mysteries of the Rat God
By Professor Audens Calvina, Chair of Elsweyr Folklore Studies at the Imperial College

Who is the Rat-god, this nearly forgotten divinity of the khajiit culture? He isn't the only almost or totally forgotten deity of Tamriel (like Ebonarm the god of war, Ius the animal god or Druagaa the goddess of flowers), but he is one of the less-documented of all, almost if he isn't a real one.
This fact convinced most of the mytho-historians and theologists, that the so-called 'Rat-god' is a joke, an illustration of the peculiar Khajiits' sense of humor. Quoting my colleague Francine Berene: "They are feline people with feline versions of actual divinities so, they invented an expletive based on the exact opposite" (Nonsensical Khajiiti humor in Crisis time, 3E 391, JATH 3617.5).
Following this same logic, some have a more serious theory: this Rat-god is an aspect of Lorkhaj, the arch-enemy of Alkosh and the other gods. As an enemy, his atributes are reversed: rat rather than cat. Furthermore, Lorkhaj is connected to Namiira, Princess of Filth and Illnesses, two things related to the rats. Others linked him to the Wharf Rats of Phynaster's legends, as a god of thieves.
But another theory has the favor of historians and archaeologists. For them, the Rat-god is a legacy of contacts between the Khajiits and populations from Akavir, during the First Era. Those Akavirians, only mentionned in some rare sources, were "ratmen pirats", whose terrified Tamriel populations. Unfortunately, even if the Rat-god's origin are those dreadful contacts, no one can confirm it. No sanctuary was ever found in Elsweyr and no cult seems to revere him anymore.
I fear that the Rat God will stay cloaked in mysteries for ages, unless some miraculous discovery unravelled our ignorance.

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