The Profound Mark, the Elder Scrolls Story

Through Past and Present

Through Past and Present



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni




<Hoon'Ding series> <Nerevarine series>


Though now twice forgotten, Hoon'Ding  comes.

Though now thrice fallen, Nerevarine comes.

Though now forever buried, Kagreduum'ingth comes.

Though now always nevermore, the Thief comes.


Through now, Auri-el's chosen, did they pierce.

Through hearts and minds of the Old Folk, did the Dominion's hold crumble.

Forgotten is the Past, Changed was the future.

Changed is the Nirn, Forgotten is the Nirn-Former.


United were the tribes, under three false gods.

Shattered were the houses, under three dark gods.

Maligned were the remnants, under one flightful prophet.

Aligned were the survivors, under one true leader.


Though the Land of Lions may weaken,

the Land of Dragons shines.

Though the Land of Eagles may weaken,

the Land of Ash shines.


Praised be the pendulum that swings only once, through nameless will.

Praised be the father who watches the children play, horrified as the children fight.

Praised be the Observer, for only he knows the King from the Rebel.

Praised be Anuvanna'si, for cloven are the multitudes, and cracked are the spokes.


Soon they will come crashing down, not with a crash, but with a click.


<innocent poem written by Jenua, circa 5E 9>

He(High King and Magistrate Euphrater) is marveling at Defiant-Wheel with disdain. He shakes his head and doesnt even look towards you. "You know not what they are, what they do. You know not what the world is, what—who will come. You know not why Loreaine had to undergo dracocrysalis. You know little, my adversaries". He seems almost regretful.
"Do you not wish for things? If you could fulfill the wishes of your loved ones, wouldn't you? "
"Do not lie to me and say you do not feel loss. I seek to end this. Surely the Dwarf can see the disaster in the Mundus, the failure of the Et'ada."
He takes a breath and pauses before changing the topic. "I know you prepare for war. Come then, let us test our nations once more, Man and Mer, Shor and Auriel, so the War of Manifest Metaphor may see it's final end"

The Treaty of Akatosh

The Treaty of Akatosh



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni






<meta />Hawkings Journal:

Buried.  We buried Yuken. How many days ago?  Still his face haunted me while I worked through those Pentius reports.  I didn’t know at the time why I given all those. Far too many for one man to go through.  It’s as if Ralér- Brindle knew what was coming. Good thing though. I was able to glean critical information that proved very useful; the rebellion in Hammerfell, chances for rebellion in Valenwood and Elsweyr, at least with an outside push.  I wonder what I missed that could have helped in the trouble to come.
The war Council was more like a  choice  of who gets to die and who doesn't.  To be placed in the position of weighing the death of innocents against the world.  Hard question. Harder answers. We saved four thousand. I still today treasure the four thousand and try not to think of the other thousand.  That’s wrong though. The sacrifice should be honored. If only I could have used the same power I did saving Plixto for the citizens of Kvatch.
We had no concern for the lives of the 36 Thalmor guarding the great mage Plixto.  We debated erasing them with Plixto. The war needed him though. Jubal and I quietly approached the  Thalmor camp. The new Nexius followed us without our knowledge. To save us the thought what he was to do I suppose.  The camp’s security was impressive to say the least. Invisible Deadra dogs on guard, a prison far below ground, magically sealed, thirty-six Thalmor, all on alert, magical runes littered the ground like discarded clothing at a brothel; there was no way we were getting through all this. Jubal said he thought he could get Plixo out, if I got him to the site of the prison.  Stealth was my job. I thought, “not in this reality.”
I looked to my new friend, the Duke of Crows, on my shoulder and thought of the impossibility of him being there, the things his existence suggested.  Perhaps I could ignore the reality of the guards and the camp, bend reality and slip past them. No, the Duke said. Sideways he said. I thought on that, tried to move sideways, but he said no, don’t think so literal.  Scolded by the Duke of Crows I tried again. I denied the reality of not only the camp, but Everything and with less than a step we were there at the site of the underground prison.
Jubal despaired at getting him out.  He didn’t have the spell. I thought, if he doesn’t have a solution we need another one, from somewhere.  I saw a Thalmor nearby and realized she was the key, she had the spell, in her mind. I thought on that, heard a crow cry, and I was in her mind, stealing her thoughts.  Dahlia  think her name was. She’s dead now, or gone at least. In her mind we talked. She thought, “why should I give the spell to release Plixo?” I thought back with fervor, “Freedom”.  Her thoughts welled up in response; “We all want Freedom. That’s what all the Thalmor want. What we are fighting for.” We can have the Freedom, we thought together. She gave us/I took the spell.  Jubal assisted, and we stole Plixto. We left the camp as we came, stealing past the reality that were guards. I stole Plixto out from every protection the Thalmor had without their notice.
When we were walking back to our forces, I contemplated on the power that the Duke of Crows and Nocturnal had led me to. Then I still didn’t know what else I could do, or have the strength to attempt.  I still struggle with what I should or shouldn’t do. I guess that why we stay with Sir Kale. I didn’t know at the time, but at that same moment, Nexius was erasing Dahlia and the other thirty-five Thalmor with the seven Laws of Metal.  I don’t think of it as Harmonizing, though that is what we call it.
When I wrote, we had no concern for Thalmor lives I was wrong.  We have the most concern with those lives; with ending them. I feel I should apologize to Dahlia, but I never have.
It was worth it though.  Plixto made our Legions fly.  Fly! Hardly lost a man saving the 4000.   Could have saved more, but the group decided the lives of the legionaries were more precious than those 1000 trapped in the city. Hard to argue, doesn’t feel right, but the war was not over.
When the city and Lorraine were erased… harmonized…I felt it wasn’t real.  But then what is. It did matter though. Jubal felt a message from Lorraine passing.
Days later, the Thalmor general came to us to discuss a peace treaty. I looked at him and at that one glance, it felt wrong.  That he could walk her free and alive while Kvatch and so many others did not. He gave his terms, he threatened our "after-life." He threatened Akatosh's covenant.  Despite my recent experience with the nature of reality, I found his threat to be empty, unbelievable, inconceivable even. As if this mortal, elf or not, could have the power to face Akatosh.  I rejected his threats, I threw his terms back in his face. Where was the Justice for this man? This elf who represented the cause of all the deaths of this war, on both sides faced no consequence?
The others though were tired war of war. They wanted peace, to give in to his demand of fortresses in High Rock.  I refused, but it fell on minds already decided. I didn’t want more people to die, but I couldn’t tear myself away from how wrong this was.  The Duke was silent and I’d forgotten he was there or we might at war now. As it was, my rage brought out the Werehawk as I vividly pictured tearing out this Thalmor’s eyes.  However, the ever vigilant Sir Kale threw me out of the tent and Jubal’s Clannfear kept me out. I’m glad they did. The people and soldiers of the Empire don’t need to pay with their lives to bring this elf to Justice.  The Duke and I can handle that.



Euphrater came to the Dragonguard under a banner of truce.

"It seems there has been lasting animosity between our peoples. I would wish that to end but it seems that cannot happen".

"I've noticed Kvatch is missing. Perhaps you need assistance in finding it?"

"Ah yes, the power of denial. The Third sort of Magic of the Beginning. I know you possess such capabilities. It seems you even have a Dwemer to boot".
"You see, the Thalmor also have Magicks from the Dawn. I'll be honest and tell you that we have infiltrated your afterlives through Crystal-Like-Law".
"We are ready to end Akatosh's Covenant. This is where diplomacy begins".

And so the Treaty of Akatosh was signed by the Imperial Battlemage and the Eighth Champion of Cyrodiil.



The Last War Begins

The Last War Begins



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni






In the season of life in which I shivered from the Frost's Fall, so did I find myself called upon to cast aside the notions of my destiny that I had deemed true. I left the land of my home to which I did not return for all my future days. Under Satakal's ever-changing influence, the sword-singer must do the same to achieve Mastery of Sacrifice. Though I long to see Glenumbra again, that man is a story long ended. I have chosen the common man over myself, as shown upon the Myriad Realms of Revelry.

In the season of life in which I was exposed to the Hearth's Fire, into deep contemplation did I withdraw to ponder the nature of truth, with my master and mentor, Ulms Drathen. I sharpened my mind as my blade and defined the principles I would honor for all my future days. With Tava's blessing, the sword-singer must do the same to achieve Mastery of Wisdom. To the peaks of the Valus Mountains did we climb, and across chasms did I walk. It was here I learned the six basic cuts again, though they will never be used in battle.

In the season of life in which I passed through the Rain's Hand, more than 90 duels did I face to prove myself invincible, though I search for ever more, few of these have been challenges. I learned the 38 grips, the 750 offensive and 1800 defensive stances, and the 9000 strikes that I would practice for all my future days. With Onsi's blessing, the sword-singer must do the same to achieve Mastery of Discipline.

As is written in the Book of Circles, so shall my life be lived.

Ulms Drathen said to me, after the betrayal of our old friend Moviris Sadras, that anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel it is stored in than anything it is poured upon. Honoring his words I have learned to control myself, yet the Mastery of Devotion yet eludes me.


After waiting out the Winter, to Skingrad did we march, under the guidance of OYARSA, our Dwemer-Ayleid-Aldmer-Daedra- who knows what else is inside the concocted General of ours. Skingrad and Anvil were to be the targets of the Dominion, as well as Kvatch. As we spoke with Varn after a week of waiting, tense and terrible waiting, a battlemage scout appeared from the air, shouting "Grand Marshall, commander, it isn't the Altmer attacking us, its the Valenwood Elves!"


With Varn Aquius we defended the city from thousands of Barkmen and Leafmen. As they surrounded the city, they seemed almost jovial. They encircled the city slowly on the south side, encroaching to a full circle as we waited behind our sturdy walls. , we reasoned. None have broken through these ingenious defenses.


That wasn't their plan however. Thousands of flaming arrows every few seconds arced down from the sky on top of us, coming over every wall and ballista. We had no defense against fire, after all, the river was less than a mile to the South. Yuken died in the hail of arrows, Varn being hit as he ran to give orders. Others were wounded as well, but the Ninth Legion was hardly touched, for their metal interlocking shields could not be breached by bone arrows. Jubal and I realized this and coordinated with Varn Aquius to sally forth from the walls and charge the enemy, staying in formation constantly. Varn entrusted me with his legion and we attacked the enemy and their General; Oberyn Nightclaw. After two volleys of pila(thrown spears) peppered the enemies, our shield wall met with their lightly armored and armed soldiers, and we began to cut them apart. The Imperial Legion has trained for every type of combat with every enemy in the known world. None could face us. Except Oberyn and the myth of his power.. so I challenged him directly.


Over the shield wall be jumped, ready to face me. His clerics created a swirling wall of light, a visible but not felt whirlwind around the Cohort. He simply stabbed himself through the heart, to unleash the Wild Hunt.

His flesh exploded outwards, arms and faces coming from it, his skin erupting in limbs and eyes and organs. Claws appeared, then hooks and barbs that morphed into mouths and teeth before becoming flat flesh. Not one part of it stayed the same for more than a few seconds. It crawled towards us before losing its hands and lurching closer. 

Yet I felt something inside me, a force of freedom and imperialism and riteousness that i had not felt since the Door to Bal. I dove at the monstrosity, cutting it apart in a whirlwind of blades I knew not how to control. The fury of a thousand murdered lords and a million enslaved Ra Gada flowed through me, and for every limb the beast grew, two more fell to the grassy field. 

And so I carved at the terrible beast until I was out of breath and the Bosmer could know not a finger of their fallen general.



Del and Nexius used some fowl magics from the Dwemer-the seven castoff laws of metal. Through these, Nexius caused three thousand of the enemy army to instantaneously meet a terrible fate. There was a dull humming that vibrated the ground to its core before it thundered, then stopped. The Bosmeri force simply stopped existing to the South. The army stopped fighting immediately, crying, wailing, screams of anger, echoed through the fields. They simply did not know what destructive force could do this, and I did not know a friend of mine that would be willing to do such a thing… but Nexius Telvanni was dead. In his place, a Dwemer. 


Yet it was a Dwemer that won the Battle for Skingrad. I pray to a multitude of gods for his soul.


—Sir Kael of the Dragon




((got tired of having this hidden, because its been blocking me from the next one))

Loveletter from the Fifth Era
and the Return to Mundus

Loveletter from the Fifth Era



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni






Those that were Marked played upon Sanguine's many realms for many years, before Wadarsho pierced the planes and allowed me to retrieve them. I went with the fury of a storm and Shouted their return to the Mundus. Some were not ready to leave, yet were coerced by the others.

The point of reentry was Eastmarch, south of Windhelm, where I was not eager to see my brethren. I am hardly Nord anymore, and they had begun a holy war with the Dunmer. The Dragonguard and I investigated this in Pagran and the Olde Fort, yet many did not wish to speak with us. They spoke to me about the glory in the Nordic Empire, about the Age of Man and it's end in the First Era.



<Dragonguard entered the Empire, got drunk with Nexius' mother, went to Nymaril's keep>


Ulms Drathen was pulled from the Stone of Orichalc by Sir Kael, in hopes of training, as Moviris stared at it in disbelief. 
"Oh Azura.. where did you find that thing?" He triedwill try at first to seem nonchalant, and deceived to try and appear like he just heard a rumor about it. It finally glowed brighter and Ulms Drathen came from it and smiling kindly. 
"Ah, Varil, my boy. It has been an Era, hasn't it?" The name Varil was very familliar to each and every one of the Guard, but they mysteriously couldn't place it. Not at all. "Bit of a surprise to see me, eh? Ahah, I bet you don't need me anymore, and have already done it."
"I-I." Mov trailed off and turned to look at the Dragonborn, each of them in turn, then moved his hands to his waist. "It is very good to see you, old friend.. But they can't know… and now you'll never trust me." He looked at the group when he said the last part.
"I've been watching, when able. I understand what she told you. I wouldn't ever allow a Daedr-"
"No, Drathen. I won't allow this.. Landfall." Nexius screamed out in pain and even terror, and collapses, his eyes shut tight but glowing so bright that they were bright red even through his eyelids. Moviris drew a sword of such elegant craftsmanship that it was hard to even believe it existed in reality, and swung it with an elegance and skill they didn't know he possessed. Twenty feet down the table, the Last Dragonborn was slashed from the side to the neck, and with his other hand, Moviris Soul Trapped him. Azura's Star appeared at his waist. As did Malachite Armor all over his body, and another sword, which he also unsheathed. 
Moviris threw a powder at Nymaril, apologizing immediately and saying "The Sixth way demands this." before Sidestepping to the LDB, stabbing him through the back in a way similar to a mural seen in the temple in Kragenmoor. Only Nymaril knew truly what is happening and was gasping as he clutched at his face "NEREVARINE." Nymaril was blinded. The Dragonguard tried to attack Moviris, but this only caused his armor to flicker into sight, the armor of a Buoyant Armiger.
The LDB got out a Shout, before collapsing on the table and continuing to gasp for air and being unable, he shouts to summon fallen warriors of Sovngarde. Two appeared, standing in the doorway. Moviris immediately moved to attack one before Ulms Drathen was there, and blocked with his Shehai, and Moviris suddenly looked afraid. This was one man who had always beaten him.
The Dragonguard are utterly astounded by the events taking place in front of them, but the heroes of Sovngarde will attack all those around them, preference to Ulms Moviris, then Dunmer, then elves.
Moviris looked at Nexius and shook his head, whispering an apology. Ulms Drathen attacked him with an onslaught of unbelievably fast and surreal blows that didn't seem to follow any fighting style known, some attacks at range, others seem to vibrate in his grip, still others seemed to come from a dozen directions in the same instant. Moviris, to his credit, was defending rather well, his twin swords spinning in a strange way that seemed to block all attacks while being solid and immobile. The Dragonguard can't understand the way they fight, the Way of the Ansei. 

Ulms had a pained and horrified look on his face, when his Shehai slipped through Moviris' glass armor seemingly ignoring it, into his left abdomen, Moviris looked into his old master's eyes with a pained expression only known by those feeling betrayed, perhaps the Dragonguard feltthis. Moviris looked down and gripped his Master's wrist, smiling softly. "Been a while since I've heard the name Varil."

Jubal Sul seemingly turned upon the Dragonguard (with no consequence) using the Scroll of Daedric Intervention to wisp the dying Moviris away upon Azura's whim. Only she knows where the True Nerevarine may be.



After a period of mourning and a proper funeral for the show-Emperor, the Dragonguard took Juliek Silver to the Ruby Throne, performing the proper ceremonies before the Counts of all Cyrodiil. Those that decided to come, at least. Juliek became Emperor of the Heartlands, and would see war before the end of the year. The end of the Era was declared, and after the two-hundred-sixty-eighth year of the Fourth Era, the Fifth would begin. 

If the Empire will last that long.



The Dragonguard also went to the hidden floors of White Gold, rebuilding OYARSA and placing it in direct control of all Imperial assets, for it to win the war. They warned the Emperor that it would sometimes take extremes, but will always achieve it's goal.

They then went to the top of the tower and fought a final battle against corruption in the Empire. Against [[:vurg | Vurg]]. In the end, Nexius' blade was plunged into the stomach of Vurg, who tried to speak a fearful warning but only spit forth blood. The essence in the sword came forth and beat Vurg, hitting him thrice across the face before taking the sword and slashing his body in twain, both of them falling from the White-Gold Tower.


And so the Fourth Empire was born, in the hands of new leaders.



Juliek Silver, the new Imperial Battlemage Nexius Telvanni, and Jubal Sutch-Sul opened the door to the 1008 Cyrodilic Weapons of Rapture. Inside Jubal found a small note detailing the Dreamsleeve location of a letter. His Loveletter. 


Ald Sotha Below, 5E911
House Sul Progenitor House, duly noted under the digital house,
Whirling School Prefect Approved
Chronocule Delivery: souljewel count: 78888-00-00-00-000

My name is Jubal-*-Sul, of House Sul, whose name is known and heard throughout the Scathing Bay and the Nine times Nine Thrones. Our lord is High Alma Jaroon, of House Jaroon, whose city is the First City of the New North, where all who Went Under from Landfall settled and made peace with the Worm, when we were not Eighty and One separate peoples but One, carrying the tibrols on our back together and cutting tunnels by the light and heat that all mer wore, with equal dust in every mouth. My family’s name comes from the first child born in the Velothi, Haeko-dol-Sul, and, like him, we are salt merchants. Our crest is the tusk of the bat-tiger. Our bloodline is registered by C0DA.


The Digitals say we come from another star, but so many have forgotten. I have not, for my lineage granted me audience with Memory, and I have spoken with the Wheels of Lull. I have seen proof, as any who come Up during Landfall Season, when the winds die down enough Above that all may make pilgrimage under the banner of Vehk and Vehk. Though many Above have renounced Memory, they too remember.

I tell you now, brothers and sisters of the coming 4th, that the holy Scripture of Love contains all you need to avoid the perils of the Landfall. By chronocules granted by the ‘neers of Lull, this warning is given freely and by Love. Sermon 35 begins properly:

“The formulas of proper Velothi magic continue in ancient tradition, but that virility is dead, by which I mean at least replaced. Truth owes its medicinal nature to the establishment of the myth of justice. Its curative properties it likewise owes to the concept of sacrifice. Princes, chiefs, and angels all subscribe to the same notion. This is a view primarily based on a prolific abolition of an implied profanity, seen in ceremonies, knife fighting, hunting, and the exploration of the poetic. On the ritual of occasions, which comes to us from the days of the cave glow, I can say nothing more than to loosen your equation of moods to lunar currency.”

The C0DA broke when Twice Vehk appeared again from Aether, but they captured enough of Him to render the words stable again. In this passage, He describes the goal of the Lunar God, who some of you still ascribe the name “Lorkhan”. When stabilized, the words become proof:

















***********N SPIRIT I AM.



Snake Mount
and Light and Dark.

Snake Mount



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni






<the Archcanon of the Whirling School "stands" before his mass of a dozen mer. some are alive, some are dead. some on Oblivion, some on Mundus>

"Dear ephemeral transients, there is no need for this agitation". He puts his deep bronze hands in the air, and although they are slightly translucent, the commotion ceased.

"Did you not make the path clear?" a Mundial Dunmer says in anguish, "The path changes for each who Walks it!" A couple more voices agree, although their faces reveal the displeasure.

"I do not write our texts. These come from Vivec. From Boethiah. From the Void Ghost. Yet nonetheless this is true, transient.. had they Walked the Way to the Fifth in its dreadful yet splendid entirety".

The choir seems to simultaneously release a held breath; they would not have to begin the Psijic Endeavor again.

He goes on to further assuage their fears, as well as their curiosity "I will recount to you what our Prophet and Lord revealed to me, of the Dragonguard becoming Boethiah's Champions".

The Dragonguard of the Fourth Empire had each been reborn, and began on the path of removing their weaknesses to prepare for the Fifth. Cassia, our Lord's own mortal Psijic aspirant, approached them. She told them that Boethiah was inviting them to Snake Mount. They did not find this honor to their liking.

The door that was always there was opened, and they moved in a higher dimension to the Mount above. This plane beneath them, the void of Oblivion above them, sparking thunder made of Creatia. Forces in conflict abound, as if to eternally create a stronger power.

They were brought along the bridge of Snake Mount, floating off the ground. Dremora and many Daedra that are not seen outside of Snake Mount were throughout the city, as some of you have seen, and each of them bowed a nixhair length to them. They were guests.


They were taken to the center of the Mount, and thrown to the ground before the visage of Boethiah

Cassia is not permitted to know where her soul originates, so with a modicum of fear she helped Jubal to his feet and spoke "This is the honor-hall of Boethiah's Champion, where he is challenged. I pray us a painless death, but a long struggle".

The statue of Boethiah never moved, instead, it has always been in what position it wants to appear to be in. Even if that conflicts with what position it was formerly in. It reached its hands out like a king to his arena, ready to be entertained. 

"Fear is a weakness, and you know what we do with those, my kin". Cassia then drew her weapons and joined the Dragonguard.

The arena has sparking fire to the left of Boethiah's statue, and liquid ice to the right, throughout the arena are lightning chains.


The statue intoned, like a king giving a speech."You would do well to remember who set you upon this path, those-that-Guard. You would do well to reminisce upon the original world-snaked".


After a minute of waiting, the Arbiter came. A landslide of bricks brought Weer to his grasp, where the lizard was thrown at the lightning chains towards the fire. They battled the Daedroth even s his skin knit itself back together, and he used layers and layers of castoff flesh made from previous enemies to shake off blows. The Arbiter attempted to kill those that were harming it, as well as get the Champion's fight underway, but also to help the Dragonguard.

Cassia soon realized her place in the eyes of Boethiah from praying with Nexius to the Lord, which is to say as dust, and dutifully fought the Dragonguard as the true champion.

They finally used what they had learned from the Tests of the Maze of Lies to use the dirtiest tactics to their advantage, as well as the metaphysical awareness gained through this. They combined the Right Hand of Stasis with the Left Hand of Change, bringing two chiral opposites together. This is the source of all power, my transients. This is the core of the Second Way, as well as an eldritch inspiration for the First; 'keeping elder magic bound before it can change into something lesser'. Regretfully this requires aetherial surplus. Something the Ayleids understood quite well.

Through this combination they freed Cassia's soul and destroyed her bodies. The soul faded away to the Dreamsleeve to find said shared fate.


The Guard stood before the Statue, where it now always had stood, hands held behind back and looking down at them with a fraction of assent. "You are now mad-molders, pray thou become shapers, lest your quiet song be drowned in the cacophony to come".

They asked about Cal, and Josphene, and other things, to which Boethiah was rather amiable. She blatantly demanded that they do not picture her as a god. Boethiah does not see herself as a god.

Nexius spoke up, finally voicing his fear, and asked what was to come.

The reply simple. The explanation unavailable. "What is coming? Ask instead what isn't coming, for Everything is. It'll begin with Dies Irae, as Azura fears".

 The statue looked down on them, a strange expression upon its face. Perhaps guilt, regret, remorse, or hate. Princes are unknowable. "Dies Irae, when the final song of trumpets begins and all are commanded before God and judged. Those that are saved are delivered, those that are not are cast into the flames… but who is to judge the future? Azura has been wrong before".

They were gifted a Black Soul Gem, and allowed to leave the plane, and did so.

<Through a chamberpot climbs a mer, his body changing from elastic to physical>

"Greetings my fellow dead mer!" He beamed with a bright smile.

The Archcanon raised an eyebrow and the living beings seemed taken aback.

The Ayleid in front of them shook his head and smiled wider "No no, I am simply searching for a bar joke, by which I mean, a Dunmer, Breton, Imperial, Dwarf, and a Ra Gada". He laughed at his own joke before pulling a stolen monocle. Using this and some spell of detection, he found the Guard's trail and ran between dimensions to Snake Mount.

He had been there before, after all.



The Dragonguard went to Nocturnal's Evergloam, and were taken by the shadow of a being through a city filled with pristine architecture piled atop each other messily. The castoff civilizations. Here, they found the False Mirror, which is to say a looking glass into NUMINIT. They observed many visions inside it, some similar to their world, some so completely separate and random they were incomprehensible. Sir Kael (crit) and saw the Daia Vanos, the proper one. Del looked again and (crit) and saw his mother, perhaps his, perhaps another his. Jubal allied with the shadow.

The Dragonguard went to Meridia's Colored Rooms and were immediately faced with Meridia. She was a nine-foot tall perfect Aldmer, except she possessed no features. Instead of these, she had large gaping wounds which leaked pus. She was constantly sweating a white light that dripped down her body. Her arms terminated in large knives. Although it was not hot, the Guard's skin was cracking, as they were cooking in her presence. They gave her the captive Pyramid, in return for the three Eyes of Meridia. Upon telling them a Truth, they were given a Truth. The first was used to learn of a spell cast by Wadarsho to send Ysmir to Sanguine's plane, at the request of a mysterious note.

And so they had a plan to return home, although they learned it has been eight years.

The Whirling School

The Whirling School



Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni












<meta />

Exhilarating. That is how I found it to be able to think of a place in Boethiah’s Realm and be there before I could even blink.  I am glad we followed Knight Kael to the Well in that way, for there we encountered Josephine and Cal… and saw how much they had aged.


Joesphine, torn I felt for her, trapped her, against her will, though it was fortuitous meeting her, for I learned the fate that awaits me as well.  She lingered before the well, tempted to dive in, seeing escape in the lies of release the Well promised. At first, I mockingly asked her why she did not jump, but later I told her faithfully to not jump, that it was a lie.  She still ponders it without choosing.  Perhaps she will for eternity.


[[: cal | Calesse Thilinus]], we found as well, staring over the edge. Nexius, Kael, Weer and I each talked with her. Jubal, too, though they had only just met.  Our visit brought her joy, or at least lightened her darkness.  The three hundred years had weighed on her, and even her indomitable spirit entertained surrender now.   I told her we would find a way to get her out, but she did not believe it possible.  She did give us information about Boethiah’s Realm, we will see how helpful it will be as we undertake the other Tests, the first two steps only, of the Psijic Endeavor.


Then Nexius wanted to visit the Library.  For books of course, but there also a Bosmer librarian that said amazing things. Things that I’m still pondering.  'Twas quite a shock when he learned from Jubal that he was in Boethiah's Realm.  He thought he was in Azura’s apparently.  After questioning from us, he gave us answers, entertaining but quite mystical answers.  A Mysticist I surmised, but not one like I had ever met before.  When Jubal told him to travel back down the hallway from Azura’s Realm that he took to get here, he disappeared, as did the entire library.  We watched him and his library shrink away.


Entering the Arena for The Orc-King Malac's test of the physical, we met an intriguing being. After saving us from the original trial of choking on ash for hours, he greeted us politely, and his words implied many interesting abilities and a long history stretching back to the 1st age.  HIs name or title went something like; “Multiplier of The Motions Know”  A hard one to pin down he was.  He questioned on which fighting styles we wanted to face, led us to believe he knew them all, any style in any known age. His name was Fa-Nuit-Hen, and he had no memory of anything. He had a Xivilai remember for him.


I faced a spyblade or spellsword from my age, Weer faced a skirmishing argonian like he used to be, Sir Kale a Dervisher like his old skill, Nexius a treasure hunter, Jubal an Ashlander.  Others were there as well, Ulms Drathen and Cassia.  I was surprised to see Cassia a priestess from the Boethiah temple, but she said even she had to test herself. I suppose the highest priest in a temple to Boethiah would be more adept at combat than almost any Nord.


My opponent cast a cloak spell and mockingly gestured for me to approach.  I stepped back carefully, commenting, “There’s no need for that my Lady, we hardly know each other, and the smell…”  She did not appreciate the humor.  Eventually, I defeated my opponent through the cunning application of spellcraft and dagger.  Though I think the humor helped.


Sir Kale defeated his opponent so soundly he was awarded his honors. Nexius utilized his staff to bring victory, again.  Unfortunately, we were not all successful.  Jubal and Weer lost their battle.  I believe Jubal’s fight was close, but Weer faced his weakness, a ranged skirmisher that stayed far out of reach of Weer’s weapon.


We took what soul Change we could from the victory and left to rest for the next test.  Fa-Nuit-Hen expressed disappointment we would not stay to fight more matches.  I was tempted, the sweet taste of victory still on my mind, but Nexius reminded us that we had more pressing matters.


Later when we gathered at the Test of mental weakness, of Sheog, again Cassia and Ulms Drathen were there.  When it started and the horrors began to assail our minds, Ulms sat motionless, eyes closed and not even appearing to breath.  Cassia threw her swords away, explaining she didn’t want to kill someone.  “This is not the best test for me,” she said.


We did not share the same visions, but we shared the horror.  We each had our own personal nightmare, even later when it seemed we all shared the same visions of madness.  As Cassia said; "You cannot overcome suffering if you refuse to look at it". Trying to stay calm  watching the visions for many, many hours, I began to doubt this was the right path, and changed to a Werehawk to try to escape.  This proved impossible.  I took a hint from the others and attempted to sleep.  The sleep was peaceful, but we each awoke to the same place we left.  Thinking now that I needed to embrace the madness to escape, to use madness to defeat the madness, I began “killing” the apparitions in my visions.  This did not prove to be the right answer for afterwards, after the test ended, only confusion filled my heart and mind. Succumbing to the madness would not save me this time… I will need to ponder the meaning of this, when I have a moment.  If I could get one in Oblivion I'd be amazed.  Kale survived the test exceedingly well, though meditating on himself and his learned strength of mind and will, but Weer and Jubal were affected like me.  Nexius, I’m not sure. He seemed at peace, but too much so. Of Cassia we saw no sign. In the end, a note from Haskill of Sheog said that Sheogorath did absolutely nothing, and the madness we saw was our own superstition and fears. He was "simply showing us the madness within". Bullshit. I say Oblivion is just messing with our minds again.


With the change gained from this encounter we now had almost enough.  I suggested a trip to the casino, and with a bit of luck and charm, we had more than enough for new Animi.  With nothing else to hold us back we went to the Shrine , the Shrine where we could enact the ritual to get new lives, new souls, in part.  The Whirling School.


In the Whirling School we were asked what was important to us, what we loved and hated, by a man who was half there, for the Whirling School existed both in Oblivion and upon Mundus. "According to the Codes of Mephala, there is no difference between the theorist and the terrorist. Even the most cherished desire disappears in their hands. This is why Mephala has black hands. Bring both of yours to every argument. The one-handed king finds no remedy".


We approached the Altar of Boet-hi-Ah  and we were to offer something.  "This is our gateway to the Drowned Lanterns. The Sacred Flame, for us all to covet wrongly" He intoned; "I have crushed a world in my left hand, but in my right is how it could have won against me. Change [sic] is under my Will, only". We each saw visions of what we hated and were desperate to Change of ourselfves, but these were symbolic of what we were trying to do and decisions were required that struck at the very core of who we were, who we wanted to be.  And we began to Change. Nexius said simply he cut away a piece of him he did not want. A dwarven piece. Sir Kael told me not to ask again, but to be thankful he saved Daggerfall. Weer was whooping and cheering that he had killed a Thalmor General, but seemed stressed at some consequence for this I did not see. My vision was deeply trying, personal, and I struggled down to my core deciding what to do.  In the end, I allowed the slaved aboard my father's ship vote whether to hang him for breaking the law, or to let him free with nothing. I killed my treacherous father.


The man from earlier and the entire School began chanting. He first said; "Let the tears flow, let thou old world die, only then, as a newborn, can thou see the world with eyes Anu. This is the promise of the PSJJJJ: egg, image, man, god, city, state. I serve and am served. God,  Man or Beast, a Star. This is the Psijiic Endeavor". The School reverberated and shook us to our cores, except we did not lose our footing, for it was only inside us. The plane seemed to speak to us as they chanted;




…and we were reborn.



Ulms Drathen spoke to us, soon after. His words always felt like a calm ocean breeze.  "In the book of circles it is written that when you forgive, you set a prisoner free, except that prisoner is yourself. This is not the Way of the Ansei. I am who I am, and Change is not my Way.. Speak to me upon Mundus when you return, dear Dragonguard". He would not Change.


Jubal soon Changed himself in this way, wishing he could save what he loved, and keep his world the way it was. He wasn't in the best state of mind, he admitted himself. He had just lost Galyron, seen the despair in the Well, lost to his own people, and had madness take him. In the end, he did Change successfully, anon PSJJJJ. Upon his right palm was a swirling palette of colors, and he continued to close his eyes and use his left fingers to draw in the air with it.


Jean was a battlemage. His story is a strange one, admittedly. He is rather calm about being in Oblivion, perhaps he has been here before, for he holds the title of Battlemage to the Empire. As Yurg did. As Maera does. As Galyron did. They all changed the Empire with their power, I hope Jean is moreso on our side. Jean also was said to overcome the Tests. He Changed as well. He wished to be able to save the fallen, and was whispering something about an Ash Titan. His hands sparked with ice, and he could shock people's heart's back to life, restoring their body with ice. It appears it isn't totally reliable, but it brought Kael back from the dead


And so we went on, and were invited to Snake Mount.

Attribution's Share
and the House of Troubles...

Attribution's Share


They came to the Principality of <Sedition>, anon Attribution's Share. Upon an ebony tower they stood, the sky churning and sparking bolts of lightning over the horizon. Two lunar figures were held aloft in the sky, the clouds behind them.

Below, the Maze of Lies. Partially invaded by mountains, but infinite. Above the maze yet impossibly distant was a mountain, more beautiful than any other.

Winged snakes darted above the maze, a hundred meters long and rows of teeth. Three snakes surrounded the Dragonguard, lightning frothing from their skin like liquid, staring into them before returning to the sky.


The Dragonguard then descended in the tower, hoping to reach the maze. They encountered hundreds of beings, primarily Dunmeri, standing agape, staring at nothing and whispering distantly. Their minds were elsewhere. Some were having conversations, some were thinking aloud, but none of them purposefully. They had all already died, and come to <Sedition's> afterlife.


A single revolution had passed before the Guard were separated and were each viewing something they loved being destroyed by Mehrunes Dagon in some form. Jubal Sul saw NUMINIT home being destroyed by an Ash Titan, a Daedric dragon. <Nexius Telvanni> saw <Ninian Redoran> dying upon Oblivion, and an Ash Titan burning houses in the Imperial City. <Delysaurus> sees an army of <Northpoint> marching on Daggerfall, and his father causing his mother's death. Weer sees his mother dying to an Ash Titan, because he instructed them to flee to the Imperial City. <Kael> sees Camlorn's wall falling to the army of Northpoint, and his duke serving as a trophy to the Duke of Steel.

They were then shown their past failures, the Third Legion's death, every wife and child left alone, <Weer's> parents, <Del's> parents, Nexius' family, NUMINIT, Daia.

Lying on a ground of ebony they were surrounded by graves to Dagon, before a single shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Many Gear-turns later they found the strength to persevere, and defeated the Trouble. It is said of the House of Troubles that Mehrunes Dagon tests thy will to continue.


The moons did not move, yet time passed. Deeper in the Maze, Hungers came and tasted each of the Guard, knowing their weaknesses. They returned with five Xivkyn, Daedra with the martial prowess of the Dremora and the magicka and intellect of the Xivilai. They had marks of Molag Bal, yet they were covered with marks of Boethiah. The Second Trouble.

Through nearly dying to this Trouble they learned of the Chimer, before they were Chimer. The Velothi. The Velothi followed their Prophet Veloth in running from the Aldmer, for they followed the teachings of Lorkhan. A being akin to all that is unholy and terrible in this world, to the Aldmer. They only way the Velothi survived is through the guidance of Boethiah and Mephala, teaching them the ways of Secret murder and Sedition. Through this they weakened the Aldmer and fled to Resadyn. Through this, the Dragonguard used foul traps and guile to destroy the Xivkyn, turning the dangerous Maze to be their ally. It is said of the House of Troubles that the preeminent Molag Bal tests thy will to resist domination.



Content Not Found: cass spoke to them suddenly, the first Whisperer to do so. She told them of the Gate to Limit, and how Boethiah's plane is structured similar to the Aurbis. Eggshells within eggshells. Transcending is possible, but the Snake Mount is barred to those protonymic.

Instead, she led them below, to the Gate to Limit.


Three levels lie below, the Outer City, the Deeper City, and the Well. The Guard here were incandescent, for their souls were still living.

 In the Outer City, there is jovial and selected crime rampant, followed by polite applause. It almost felt like <Dragonstar>, a home for adventurers and wayfarers, full of shops and temples for those that would Test themselves above, to one day ascend to Snake Mount.

In the Deeper City, the true afterlife of the Dunmer was found, for those who Test themselves not, and seek a peaceful existence until discorporation.

In the Well, those that are damned to Attribution's Share are found. <Cal> and <Josephine> were encountered there. Below the reversed spires was the Cerulean Sea, the replacement for the Dreamsleeve for only the Dunmer, as named by a Mysticist.


After discovering some lore, the Guard returned to their bodies and sought after the Right Hand. The Stasis to the Change.

One must conquer themselves before the world.


Here, each made a choice, and then knew what they wished to Change of themselves. 

<Knight Kael>, after seeing his homeland of Bretony and the more noble land of Hammerfell, chose the latter.. but wished to bring what he loved with him.

<Delysaurus> chose to pursue justice, but keep his hands clean.

<Nexius> chose knowledge and Change over his family, to finally become something.

Jubal chose to walk away from Azura's lordship and seek his own answers.

Their Change is accounted.


May the world below make them, and the worlds above take them, should they continue on this path.



Those that Guard the Dragon are registered by         


Chimera of Desolation
and how Jubal learned true Conjuration...


Chimera of Desolation


Being left upon <Principality known as Apocrypha>, the <untranslatable> known as Jubal Sul was consulting the Dreamsleeve for help from his allies upon the Mundus.

Gear-turns passed. Order invaded, platforms from beneath the briny liquid of the plane(t) surfaced, and the Army of Order attacked. The sane-shaper known as Ulms Drathen cut their physical forms.

Through the platform, the outer plane known as Certainty.


The <untranslateable> and his allies saw everything perfectly in it's place. The avatar-dominated known as Haskill of Sheogorath came to them, offering a gift from his Prince. It was a spell, or an offering of the mind, that would allow Jubal to throw his body and soul through the planes. Planar Dance.

Using this spell of randomized component and magicka, those that Guard the Dragon and the Dragon Emperor departed Certainty.


They apperated upon Adonea, the plane of journey and destination. Every path leads somewhere, the plane connects to all places. They attempted to move in the third, but could not, for only those who move in the sixth can travel upon Adonea.

Hell Hounds sent by Content Not Found: yurg came upon them, capturing <Nexius Telvanni> and nearly consuming Jubal. Their mundial magicks were contorted here, when Hawking attempted invisibility, ten thousand Hawkings were upon the plane. 


They escaped to the Fourth Sinus of Takubar, a collective realm of the Cold-Fire Atronachs.


They quickly left, but a failure in the spell sent them between the planes. To Dagon of the <JS-38>. There were pockets of un-space as well as areas of un-time. Nexius stumbled upon subjects of un-thought, where his mind could not comprehend the lack of subject matter.

They could not depart this plane, and so they traveled by accident to the Door-Key-Cage of old Dagon.

Here they met the Leaping Hare, and took it with them when they went hidden into the Door-Key-Cage.


They found a foggy inlet island, infinite for those of lesser minds. They met Old Man Chimere, the founder of Conjuration, who soon killed himself with three cups of Deathbell. Before the death of his body, he taught Jubal for one hour of Planar Migrant, in return for a soul gem of an Ash Zombie. 

Chimere was from <JS-38> as well as Dagon and the Leaping Hare. He had been trapped upon this plane for <uncountable>.


They then departed through the superior magicks, to the Principality known as Attribution's Share.



The Dragonguard have been registered by


and how Dagon triumphed.



Sul the Hunter's Chronicles of Super-Mundial Principalities


Authored by: NUMINIT

Co-Authored by: Jubal Sul



Author's Note


My name is [[NUMINIT]], a Battlemage working for none save himself. A damn good one, I would hope. One that holds the lost art of memospore, which is the very fabric of the manuscript your [untranslatable] now lie upon.

The Dragonguard and I returned to Oblivion, and it was outside our designed home where we glimpsed horrors unimaginable.

It was there that Sir Kael of the Dragon died.

It was there-here-that I may now apperceive my existence and all that it has begat.

It was and is here, where I am no longer. 



Part 2 of 4, Chapter 1



I am quite ahead of myself.

When we reentered Oblivion, I was confident we would follow the same paths as those we did previous. I was not aware of these paths being tampered with, not once, but twice. When we travelled backwards, we did not go to Mephala's Spiral Skein. We were shunted to the Deadlands.

Choking on soot, we looked bewildered at a dozen Dremora Churls surrounding us. Although barely clothed and of the lower caste, all Dremora were usually quite restrained and intelligent. I attempted to introduce myself, yet instead of listening, they all charged with feverish abandon, attempting to surround any one of us and butcher them with some sort of oily scaled shortswords.

Although they purposely did not hurt Nexius Telvanni, the situation was unfortunate, considering we were quite possibly in the most feral, chaotic, and physically dangerous plane known to the Empire.


Separating ourselves from the majority of the Churls on the bridge above a lake of lava, J noticed bars of moonstone and magical scrolls, arranged as if we were expected. The Churls clearly did not expect us to fade in from outside the plane, though. Sir Kael battled with Churl after Churl, attempting to parry aside every blow and managed to dismember at least two of the ferocious beasts, before a Caitiff came at him. Spikes looked riveted across his face and hw twirled Ebony maces about his head like they were weightless, and they fell upon Sir Kael much too quick and heavy for him to parry. We dragged him to safety, barely, yet he fell unconscious from the pain of being hit squarely in the chest with one.

The only thing between us and the Dremora remaining was a two meter gap in the fragmented bridge. The stalemate didn't last long, as a Dremora Xivilai began gripping the bridge with chained talons from the sky itself, tearing it asunder nearly perfectly. Then we fell.


3dead. It was disastrous, surely. Our fragments of stones served as temporary rafts in the molten fire, but they did so for our enemy as well. The battle continued as we rode them closer towards a Dremora fortress, arrows beginning to rain on us as a beast bounded across the top of the lava as if it were water-walking, and dueled with Nexius and the recovered Kael both.

One Dremora simply did not move, and was adorned differently. His skin was hued slightly darker, and possibly a shade purple. He simply watched.

Erupting from the lake of fire came a snake of bone, which spat fire across our rubble and threw the Caitiff which nearly killed Sir Kael into the lava.. as well as myself. I survived for a few seconds due to wearing my Ebony armor, which protected from the heat, yet the Caitiff would not release me as he was boiled alive.

It was Jubal that saved me, this time, sacrificing his Clannefear to pull the Caitiff beneath the surface of the lava. I flew away after that, and returned to my allies soon after, away from the river.


They me later of how the Dremora that watched called off the archers, and we later saw him far away, upon a mountaintop. Enigmatic.

We soon came upon, strangely enough, a Dunmer pacing a mound of dirt. He identified it as his own burial mound, and after some pressure, himself as an Ansei.

Surprisingly, Sir Kael was not offended by this. For anyone but a Ra Gada to even invoke the name of the old order would be an insult to it, to any Ra Gada. I do not know Kael very well.

This Ulms Drathen ULMS told us of a group of rogue Daedra, and due to Sir Kael's eagerness to learn more of his birth-people, he remarked that training Kael would not be impossible. Perhaps if he were to devote himself to such a task. The first step on this task was to carry a package. Ulms named it a Stone, and it was wrapped in cloth. We did not know what was inside.


The Dragonguard set out to meet with these rogue Daedra, believing them to be led by their old… ally. Vaqua. Approaching the "city" of Derikuro, we were surrounded by stripped women with skin of caked and cracked ash. They clawed and grasped at us as dark and foreboding Dremora Kynvals circled us. Only four of them, yet each was known to command and dominate hundreds of other Dremora.

One spoke, his voice reverberating like a dark forest.  "E'tah Mazken Ghartok". This [is/can be] (the) General('s) Hand(s). Perhaps he meant the Generals meeting inside the towers.

When none of us understood quick enough, he growled, his mouth dripping blood before saying "Impermanent children. You are not welcome here, but we do not serve Mehrunes Dagon, And he allows you on his realm. Would we be wise to bring your pitiful end?"

When we expressed confusion, he continued "You are temporary, and none can enter the Changing Plane without Mehrunes Dagon's acquiescence. You are his servants". The ash-women scream and recoiled away from us, as if we were monsters.

"The Council of Lords meet, and children will not disturb the Markynaz".

We were standoffish for quite some time, and stating that we were friends of Vaqua only warranted a wet, blood spitting laugh.


Explosions and angry screaming and horrendous scraping of metal came from in the city-towered. The women scattered in every direction, the Kynvals drew spears and sprinted with unnerving agility inside. Only seconds after, we followed, finding Vaqua already eliminating the last of them, before hefting the heavy Sword of the Moon Reiver over his shoulder.

"Greetings, servants of Mehrunes and Herma-Mora. It has been a world last we spoke, yet now I see you with all four eyes". Vaqilijikcar Va qwileh jiik car was his adorned name, or Vaqua. He explained how he has destroyed all resistance to Mehrunes Dagon, and when questioned he said "Resisting the tyranny of Mehrunes Dagon is foolish. I have crushed said resistance. Would you accompany me to offer their Lord and leader to our Prince?" He seemed terse, yet Hawking immediately caught on that he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

Mehrunes Dagon was listening.


I advised strongly against going to meet the god damn Prince of the Plane we stood upon. They noted this, and then we went to meet him. When we agreed, we traveled for days, yet were there instantly. This was common in Oblivion, especially upon the Deadlands, for whatever reason. The entire journey was to cross the infinity between us and the volcano which was always North. It took lava in from the clouded sky, as if it's white jet of flame went into it instead of out of it.

And then we had suddenly always arrived. The Palace of the Valkyn, where the Valkynaz meet, Mehrunes Dagon's personal guard. Even I do not know what the great Mehrunes need fear to warrant a guard. The same crocodile-dragon-like Daedroth that decimated Cheydinhal guarded the palace steps, inside it and throughout it was the decimation that was the Throne.

Daedra love thrones. They show their dominance.


In the center, but also everywhere, was the Lord himself.

Hawking recoiled in terror and began spouting messages of doom, Sir Kael tried to tell Weer that there was no hope, becoming manic and punching him perfectly in the gut, even denting his armor, causing Weer to froth a strange black liquid from the mouth, akin to retching.

Nexius and Jubal and I were stricken with fear, like an ant before being stepped on, but we did not take irrational action.

Mehrunes is a large golem made out of coal, charcoal, and other flammable materials. He has no arms, or four arms, and is surrounded by several floating hands. The hands have eye balls as fingertips. There are infinite lacerations all over his body, which are bleeding backwards, taking in blood and sucking in air even. 

Vaqua offered the Moon Reiver to him, as it was a piece of Dagon himself in the distant past. When Vaqua saw what we had become, he instructed us to wait outside. We did, simply being outside as opposed to somehow moving to get there, staring at the twelve foot tall Daedroth. 

Rifts opened, a light blue and briny liquid expunged from each. There was a sick crunching sound and more rifts formed, each like claw marks across the mountains, the skies, the walls. The Daedroth shrieked before wielding Jubal's Clannefear like a bat and smacking most of us aside, and it was then that Sir Kael slid into lava and his heart was burned from his chest and he died within seconds. Without a word or a scream, like a Knight. Weer carried his body as we ran, the rifts enveloping everything there was and nearing us, and Jubal helped me cast the spell to leave through one, letting us escape the plane before we were sucked to the Void between planes.



Part 2 of 4, Chapter 2.



Our stay here was brief, Weer simply mutilated himself, submitting himself to a contraption of the Dukes of Anguish under Molag Bal. Horrible techniques of physical pain and torture, which were designed to only cause pain, as the Duke revel in physical displeasure. I wonder why you would need a Duke of such a thing, but the Lord of Domination must have uses. We recovered a Pyrimid of Meridia here, it's every angle perfect. It was here Hawking opened the package from Ulms Drathen, and my precaution was revealed. Ulms Drathen led the half of the soul I gave a damn about from the Sword underneath, saved by Jubal and I's spells. It was a hollow victory, as he was most assuredly dead. He didn't even have his Animus to cast magic with. Funny. Redguard magic.



Part 2 of… the last Chapter.



After a few planes, we came to Apocrypha. There were plants like Venus Fly Traps about, within each, books. Bulbs of light flew around, following pages which floated on a mystical wind that we could not feel. Books extended in every direction, sometime on bookshelves, sometimes on waves of pages. Halls morphed into oceans of knowledge, and physical reality was subjective here, while other planes played with time. A Lorkhanic jest.

I embraced Jubal, for I'd finally led us here. "I've-ah-wanted to see this plane for quite a while. Well, any of the planes. Thank you for this opportunity J, allow me to look around some, but remember to always keep each other within sight".




The shelves extended miles higher, and I floated along them collecting books about concepts I could only dream before. Sir Kael climbed up above to eavesdrop upon a Seeker.


The Seeker spoke with an Urn, in which floated a mortal's brain in a briny liquid. 

"I know a thing", the Seeker lisped, a frisson of horror arcing through the undead Kael.

"Is it a thing worth knowing?" replied the brain, somehow speaking.

"You shall judge, Floater. I know Old Antecedent has entered into an agreement with the mortals, a compact, as they say. Is that nothing?"

"Next to Nothing". 

"It is a think that I have Known". The Seeker's tentacles oozed brine, as if they were milking eachother.


"I heard a discussion between Scrivener Uu-Thorax and the Eleventh Preceptor. They came into the Crepuscule, where I was quietly…."


"Yes. the Preceptor expressed skepticism, but then the Scrivener spoke a Word of Asseveration. Books scattered everywhere, ichor fountained from my ear-holes, and I knew what he said was a Known Thing".

"Garughh. Why?"

"He seems to have been paid a great price, something he dearly desired, but I could not clearly hear what, due to the injury to my ear-holes."

While Kael did not know that he was listening to a description of the Coldharbour Compact, he wouldn't have cared if he did know. He climbed upward and spoke with them, ignoring their attempts to kill him, for he was dead. He brokered a deal with them, and traded knowledge of Talos and the Tribunal using a Dwarven device to achieve immortality. In return, the Seeker told them of the Crepusculary, where timelines are stored.

To travel there, Weer manipulated the mind of his Daedric helmet, using it's desire to kill him to pen a book of the destination, reading it to travel there.



Crepescule means Twilight Observatory, which would usually indicate something relating to the Prince of Twilight, Azura. She embodies the change of one thing into another, Dawn, Dusk. The Crepescule details events, start to end, where it changes no more.

I was engrossed in my books, my trained Scamp Fertis carrying all two dozen of them. I kept trying to explain to Jubal how important what I reading was, even of the map god with a pocketwatch. They were confused, and I pointed out that they could always ask the Golden Eye, Hermaeus Mora. He was, of course, watching.


The tree had five branches, and a Seeker explained that this was because Five is the limit of our world. This was also mentioned in Moonshadow, when the sky had five gradients of the moons as they passed from Dawn to Dusk. The Dragonguard examined leaves, and found in truth the tree was infinite, but also observable by lesser beings. They eventually found the branch of the Great War, but found it black and decayed and hollow.


Glyph, who followed the Dragonguard silently.


I finished one book and asked J what he thought of the new ideas within. "Infinities inside infinities J, that is the damn Aurbis. Tell me, when a mage casts an illusion spell, you're affected by illusion right? But no one else, because your perception dictates your reality, just like alteration. Conjuration on the other hand embellishes the purpose of the center, but what if the center was always you?? Oh I see now, with this and the book on Protonymics.."

He just waved me away and said I was learning Mysticism spells now, but I believed this was so much more.

We almost didn't notice when grimy feelers gripped around Sir Kael, Weer, and Hawking.  


They were strapped to iron chairs, attached to a boat which did not sway in the waters, looking up at horror.
His voice sort of churdled through the water, every word coming from how it boiled and every sound escaped the depths before coming to their ears. But he said no words, for he is all words. He was extending an invitation.
"You wished to see me, is that not true? Feel sore you did not find the correct infinity. Yet I, Hermaeus Mora, have been watching you. You have something you will give me".
"I have become future, and portents of, and have seen all, in a previous world-which-was-mine. as well as his"
"I do know everything. But not this everything. Knowledge is.. liquid, when facts are altered. You will acquire the one piece I have not".


When they tried to speak, they were ignored. The Lord of Knowledge needed none from us.

"When the Dragon Breaks, changing becomes your.. instantiated percepting reality. Yet pure it was not for you. You.. Dragonguard.. possess this Mark." A tentacle speared through the boat but stopped sharp to wetly press against Weer's hand, indicating the mark. "What power gave you this?"

Kael tried to explain, but none knew the answer. I was starting to.
"Not adequate. You are now my servants. Discover this and make it Known to me, so wholeness can be known. Your reward shall be two Knowings. One you need and one you desire. Both may terrify you".


"The Thalmor is indisputably the most dangerous organization in the Aurbis. Moreso than Talos. They cannot be understood by such a soul as yours. Loreaine of the Time Dragon has become a puppet to them. They are the Other, and they hate everything that even smells like mortality.
And they are going to win in the end."



J and Nexius pulled out the book on Xarxces, reading it with will and transporting themselves to his underwater scriberoom. He was an old bearded man, except his beard covered all but his eyes. He was writing something, humming a pleasant tune in the language.

Xarxces told us, through floating pages with written text, that his master Auri-El has taken them. He told us the true story of how Auri-El and Hermaeus Mora were the same deity, until they saw all kalpas and times and found a truth. Auri-El the Anuic would never change, and so Mora was made, the piece that did change. He accepted the truth. This is why Xarxces followed him. The man smiled, showing no tongue or teeth. He had no words of his own-iaCO0ca5zuFtoYi8wWNUMINIT.


I apologize. I am resubmitting this memospore due to words-applicable of the secrets hidden in my higher books. I grip J's face in my hands and tell him that what I need to tell him will sound insane, but he is the only one I have to tell.

"You may think I am wasting time, J, but I would say that all our lives have been wasted, and now I am the only one doing anything of note.. it is all about the duality of cloven divinities, J. The Void that remains. Infinite splits of the Highest-Hearts, then the four known and the three unknown. I know them now. Nameless more, for his count was born of a previous. Of the last, I would call it dementia, as you have known in the future, but when applied to the Doom, it is appended with dimension. Dementia given dimension, dimension dementia.." Jubal holds me worriedly, I look into him but not through his eyes.

I go now to Xarxces and pull his pen from his grip, and begin writing the fabric of the talOS, humming the same tones that the Scribe had. J tries to stop me, I do not stop, he can not stop me. "eight-and-one divine cross-structs, reinforce convention but now never was. t-a-l-O-S of the wheels in wheels in wheels".

I turn to J and focus upon him. "Damn the Daedra. Damn the Aedra and the Magna Ge, this is bigger. Vaporization by adjacentia".


I begin singing in the language of the Captive Sage-N7YIdMSHGW4bRGTzZF3u

I am against the wall opposite the Scribe. I look around fearfully, for I see too much, or too little in it all, too little in myself, for myself is not. It burns in my mind… My eyes unfocused, I look towards my hand but am looking at much, much more.

I hold J again, my touch wispy as I evaporate. As I deny, still fragmenting pieces of ideas to this manuscript and memospore, my truest last thoughts.

"Pray to Nerevar for me. He was the first.. to believe in us".


1 - 1 = 0




<The rest of the transmission is untranslatable, except by way of sheet music, a practice which has become unadvisable during the reign of [NUMINIT], who, along with everyone else in the symphony's radial madness, was vaporized>




<Journal of one Jubal Sul, as he views the memories of Hermaeus Mora, as realities.>


Normal people would keep a journal, a nice book maybe. This Daedroth keeps his memories in damned realities. Here we go.


4E174A - Imperial City

Did Vaermina want us to see something here?

Calesse Thilinus and Jondis do not turn from the Battle of the Red Ring, instead, they join the charge. Not what happened.

Dark red light from the top third of the White-Gold Tower.  Not what happened.

Vel as Vampyrum slave, in Vorana's position as Magus-General.

Amaund Motierre was Vampyrum, but did not go fast enough for Lavolia Dex's liking. Probably why she had him killed. She is also much more afraid of the Thalmor. Much. Probably why the Elder Scrolls just vanished when she took over.

In the top 1/3 of tower, some floors were cleared out, glowing zipping lights darting around the room, as well as large soul gems implanted into the walls at various points, ghostly heads trapped in ebony cages that all talk at once. In the center; Yurg. Each ghost-head was also sometimes just one organ of communication. A nose, an eye. Hard to tell who or what it was, or where the lines between were. At least some Dwemer in there.

He called it OYARSA. It was to be the general of all the legion. He opened a Doldrum to Coldharbour.


4E195A - Battlespire

Valenwood burned down, all the Bosmer in the Wild Hunt.

Eleswyr devoid of cities, 100% desert.

Redguards somehow wiped out racially, perhaps by their pantheon.

Glyph sort of, puked up an explanation, in the form of a scroll. "OYARSA with the data-mind of a Dwemer planned this. It is total war, in every sense".

Yagrum is dead, the part of the soul that is his mind was kept while the other (3/4?) is gone. Just the intellect, no individuality.


4E201A - Flagship/CLL

Titus Mede II, thought dead, back.

VAmpyrum and Empire allies.

Dominion almost defeated.

Loreaine afraid, but atop Crystal-Like-Law, she "dracocrysalizes". Unknown what this means, but she became a fucking dragon. So. I want.

Scratch that, she was afraid of losing all her individuality. Bad.


4E174AB (?????) – Back to Imperial Palace

Because it is a memory of an extratemporal being, it is viewed as events transpired. (This isn't DC universe timelines, this is fifth-dimensional travel)

Mark vs Marked

Cal and Jondis and more kill Yurg, but not before he asks OYARSA some questions.

OYARSA = Ghost Choir.

OYARSA says the Dominion's strength is belief/lack thereof?

OYARSA says Nexius is a Dwemer…

OYARSA was designed as the counter to everything the Thalmor can do. Sounds like the Imperials to counter all the accomplishments of Elves.

OYARSA kills Cal and Jondis and all them by singing the same song gALYRON AND XARXCES WAS SINGING. THIS IS NOT OKAY.

Loreaine as a dragon comes in the window, resets all that, then takes off the crown of the dragon.

She isn't a god. She orders all the Dominion to murder many innocents to allow for some power. 

What Dawn Magicks are isn't answered, but it is said that they aren't understandable, by definition. Perhaps they can only be done by gods? Perhaps they're just a catch-all term for magic we can't do, but they can. 


Thalmor rewriting of Time. A loss is just a sentence in need of revision.


A – Thalmor    lose.

B – Loreaine dracocrysalizes, rewrites time, does some more Dawn Magicks on the White-Gold Tower, Empire retakes the city a year later

C – When the Marked broke/fixed time.

and how the Hare escaped.



Sul the Hunter's Chronicles of Super-Mundial Principalities


Authored by: Galyron Ven-Sul

Co-Authored by: Jubal Sul



Author's Preface


My name is Galyron Ven-Sul, a Battlemage employed by the Empire, and a master Enchanter and Conjurer. Clearly I do not take planar travel as a secure or even reliably safe escapade. I had not yet escaped the Mundus, yet the catalyst for this first journey was dire indeed.

My allies in the new Akaviri  Dragonguard had acquired knowledge of twenty-five years of the Great War between the last Empire and the Dominion. Twenty-five years which the Dominion had erased. Twenty-five years in which the Dominion was losing, before they erased these years. This knowledge was acquired from the last survivor of the Cyrodilic Vampyrum, who served the Thalmor out of fear.

As my companion Hawking has stated: "We have been stomping out rats in the home, while lions loom across the sea".

There was only one way to learn of the Dawn Magicks the Dominion used, only one library outside of time's direct influence and control… and so we planned to leave the only home for mortals to the Oblivion, to save our Empire, and possibly the world.

To Apocrypha.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 1

The Puncturing


A mage needs two things to travel through Oblivion: First, a Daedric sigil of some sort, upon a morpholith aligned with the first destination plane, which is to say the plane that will be linked to Mundus. Second, a sixth-dimension way of travel. Oblivion is, as some might say, a dimension higher than our Mundus. They are affected by time but are not wholly subject to it, and to travel impossibly through a dimension as we plan to, we must bend through the dimension above.

Jubal Sul, my adopted brother who is not yet endowed with an honorific title, calls himself the Champion of Azura. I do not trust Azura, and do not see the benefit of calling a banished Daedra an ally. Nonetheless, he possesses the first of our two required items: Azura's Star. The Second is a passed down way of the Sul family, using a spell called Sul's Passage. I call it Soul's Passage. To explain it in nonacademic language, the planes are leafs of parchment, and if one takes a needle and stabs it through each leaf, we have our sixth-dimensional legs.

Through these rifts, we can move through the planes. While it is not the favored way by the greater community, and my close friends in the College of Whispers might berate me for using it, it serves our needs well.

Our late friend Nymaril had a Daedric Altar already brimming with traces of Oblivion. There, Jubal and I took the star, and pierced the planes. It was to be a benign Door to Oblivion, and so Akatosh's Covenant was satisfied-see the most recent Greymarch-and Azura seemed agreeable to this. At least, from our perspective upon Nirn, it was the ideal choice.

I held the Star upon the Altar, both hands upon the spokes, and as my magicka was poured into it, the gem in the center began to absorb light, the room becoming hazy and shadowed, the walls visibly vibrating while no tremor was felt. Our perceptions began to float as our bodies remained still, before these perceptions turned inside themselves and we saw an array of a hundred possible rooms the same as ours. I brought my hand down upon the Star, and we were thrown back together, staggering. The Star was missing, the room normal.

To all but J and I, that is. We could sense, but not see, a small rupture. It was as if we were blind and reaching along a wall to feel a crack, except our fingers are tendrils of our own Magicka, and the wall is the Liminal barrier.

I turned to my brother J and told him what I had not forseen. Azura chose to assist us in this casting, and while it is possible to do it without the Prince's assistance, it is much more likely to succeed. We were being invited to Moonshadow.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 2




"Are we ready?" I asked my allies.

Hawking the Spymaster had travelled to the shrines of every Prince whose plane we planned to visit, paying them tribute in every known form, and so he nodded, surely we were prepared.

Nexius Telvanni and Jubal Sul had studied new spells for days, and could cast magicks most men and mer could only fathom, and so they nodded, surely we were prepared.

Ninian Redoran and Sir Kael of the Dragon had sparred with their conflicting styles for months, each searching for beasts to train against, and even Buoyant Armigers joined their duels, and so they nodded, surely we were prepared.

We weren't totally wrong.


I nodded in response, and our world shattered. It was as if everything we saw was a glass pane, which had just collapsed and fallen away. Replacing it was a whirling mixture of black matter and nothingness, the only constants being the Sun, Stars, and the sensation of falling-not in any direction, but every direction at once. A blink which felt like a year later, we realized we hadn't moved our feet at all, yet we were standing someplace else. 

Only Jubal could see, and even then only a meter forward. We were all thrown to the ground, trying desperately to cover our eyes as piercing daggers of beauty and light were thrust into them. The pain faded but we were stricken blind, all that remained was the afterimage of a tall silver tower. As we lied there, hairy, rough hands came onto us, and we were dragged into some sort of building. The blindness started to fade, and Jubal could begin to see clear enough to make out the twenty or so various forms of Khajiit around us, all looking over eachother curiously. 

They spoke over eachother, like a choir of birds joining in.

"Who are you?".

"Yes, who!".


"Names don't matter!"

"Tell us now!".

Jubal silenced them and replied "I am Jubal Sul, the champion of Azura".

"Azura!" one yelled.

"He serves Azura!"

"The Moon and Star?"

"The Dawn and Dusk?"

Jubal sighed "Yes, of course, I am he-". He was interrupted by one of the Khajiit throwing a lit candle with a green flame upon him, and he had to scramble not to be burnt. They all gasped when he held it. Confused, he tossed it back to them, and a Cathay caught it, the color of her hand blurring to reveal a light white glowing mass underneath, like a gemstone, but translucent.

I looked up towards them and blinked through the fading blurriness, before explaining this to my brother "They're dead, J. This is the Khajiit's favored afterlife". I sat back against the wall, depleted of Magicka and quite tired.

Moving felt surreal, like we were severely intoxicated, yet our minds were unaffected. 

"This is Raytiir," chimed one of the Khajiit, who looked like a Bosmer with unusual facial hair "We have not gotten living visitors since the Dunmeri monster.. did what he did".

They explained mortals could look East, towards the rising stars and moons. It was always Dawn and Dusk, they said, as willed by the same. West was only allowed for those that had the blessing of Azura, towards the setting stars and moons. Across the sky were five gradients of light, simply because Five is the limit, which was not explained to us.

Jubal is faithful to Azura, and so he went out into the city devoutly. It was only a hundred feet across, yet each building had dozens of interiors. He could look west, and was baffled by the view, falling more in love with Moonshadow after every vista.

The strangest and most worrying part was how every single thing we saw seemed to drip like a wet painting or a melting snowman, if one stared without moving, everything began to flow like water, leaving the head spinning.


Whilst I recovered my Magicka, Jubal heard that every Mortal traveler to Moonshadow received an audience with Azura herself, and so he spoke to a Winged Twilight. It landed before him between two clay houses, and it's eyes began glowing. Jubal said her voice came not from the mouth, but from inside him, as a friend. She spoke of Varillion, the True Nerevarine, and how he abandoned his destiny to travel to Akavir. She gifted him with a Scroll of Daedric Intervention, possibly her last influence she will have upon Mundus for quite a long time. 

She took him through the air, where they flew, but not through any visible method. They simply flew because Azura willed it. She showed J underneath Azuriel, where there was a large crystalline waterfall around the central tower, and down it, he saw the water end in the underground Cerulean Sea. He did know not what this meant. She would not show herself to him, perhaps because of Vivec. He was told he would use the Scroll when Destiny requires him to, for Azura's wishes.

I believe she was just getting off on being Mysterious with prophecy, she hadn't been able to for a while. Nonetheless, J returned and we departed to the next plane.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 3



I took a step, traveling the Soul's Passage, and we were next to a river of blood, the smell of blood overwhelming the senses. Another step and we were being buried under an infinite mountain of insects and carrion crawlers and some sort of twitching ooze. After struggling through another step we arrived in an idyllic countryside, with prancing deer and lilies, the air smelling of a mixture of flowers and rot.

I informed my Dragonguard allies that this was the Desideratum, and after recalling our previous dealings with Clavicus Vile, we agreed to quickly move on, as the Prince of Deals might not appreciate our rescindment of a previous deal. Not before a fruitless look around, though.

Another step, and we were spinning as we fell, before I was separated from my allies. I experienced only nightmare, too personal to retell. I shall transcribe their experiences upon this plane instead, as they were eager to share.


They were standing on a swirling light blue floor, but it felt solid like glass.
They were all alone, on a sinking ship, the crew slaughtered, water forcing it's way into their lungs.
They were all alone, running from a dozen werewolves. They were scratched and each turned into one of these beasts, beginning a murderous rampage, slaughtering all they loved, and savoring it. Which is worse, killing those you love, or enjoying doing so?
They were all alone, falling from the White-Gold Tower, plummeting to their doom.
They were all alone, surrounded by vampires, diving and tearing them apart.
They were not alone, and had been on this swirling glass floor for quite a while. They braced themselves for the next jump, but it didn't come.


The glass was endless, and the sky black, save a single star, far away.

A soft voice whispered in their ears, although there was no source. "Those-that-are-Marked, I would allow you to stride through the false memories for many a cycle, yet you have given me a gift. Mortals are not logical and it is so known. I give you a chance to tell me why, else I shall tear the knowledge from you".

Sokel, although a demonized version, flowed through the glass like it was liquid, and coiled around them. They had met the feathered serpent avatar of Vaermina in the No-Quin-Al desert a year and a half ago.

She was referring to how Nexius Telvanni gave up the fond memory of his mentor in a deal with Clavicus Vile, replacing it with nightmares. 

"I am not benevolent. It is so known to the lesser forms. Yet I help each, in turn" whispered Sokel, again into the ears of each of them. "Mortal dreams allow the immortal soul a tool to peer at the incomprehensible infinity that is this pitiful Aurbis. I assist you. I always have assisted you in raising yourself to become more, but do not mock me with sympathy, pathetic mortal. I will torture you, and horrify you. You will hate me, as the Dunmer do.. but you desperately need Nightmare, I help you sift through your own mind, your own Dream".

Jubal desired to speak with her, but I believe she was only telling them this to appear mystical and wise. She "gifted" the Dragonguard with more Nightmares. It does dawn on me, though, that Vaermina could be considered one of the "good" Daedra. She hardens you through accepting the realities you cannot, by experiencing them. That is what she showed them.

Cheydinhal was destroyed by Daedra and armies of legionaries.
The Thalmor destroying the White-Gold Tower.
Hawking becoming the same wererat he fought last year, and murdering his parents.
Forsythe being a slave to the Thalmor, from birth, and Sir Kael being a weak servant unable to stand up to this.
The capital of Morrowind, Blacklight, destroyed by Nordic warriors, and all of the Dunmeri culture destroyed and forgotten, the Thalmor coming to conquer all.


Jubal Sul has always worshipped the Three Good Daedra, and so saw the wisdom in accepting hardship. Through these visions, he accepted the possibilities, and took inspiration from his sights on Moonshadow. He studied all he saw and developed plans of defense for Morrowind. His will was made stronger.

Sir Kael of the Dragon saw himself and his Duke Forsythe being weak, and scoffed. These visions were impossible to him, there could be no such reality. He forever was strengthened against Illusion.

Nexius Telvanni perhaps discovered the truest teaching. He accepted every vision as a possibility, as all possibilities are true to a Moth Priest. He accepted the Change that each could cause, even if it meant his family killed, his Legionaries allying with Daedra, his world under Thalmor. It brought some peace.

Hawking and Ninian chose not to speak of what they saw. All awoke upon the same glass floor, just far enough away to be unable to comfort eachother. I was left with them, and once the shaking subsided, we could move on. Battered and broken.

I had to question their resolve after this horror, before going deeper into the bowels of Oblivion. "We were not prepared for the mental aspects of super-mundial travel… Perhaps we should return". I was not convinced, but we needed to press on. The Thalmor must not rule Tamriel.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 4

Hunting Grounds


We were standing upon a mountain of pure ice, and strangely, all the horizon and sky is also ice, infinite in size but there nonetheless.
We were falling through infinite ash, getting caked with it, choking on it.
We were in the deepest, greenest forest I'd ever seen.. and I started cursing all the Et'ada. I was sure our escapades were at an end.

They looked at me confused, so I explained "A few more turns and we'd have been in Apocrypha, he must have sniffed out the rift and laid a trap"

"He?" Hawking asked, wringing his hands while hoping it was one he had left an offering to.

A terrifying horn sounded, piercing us and echoing in the enormous cavern once, twice, thrice.

"He, the Father of the Manbeasts, the Chase. Prince Hircine".


Nexius Telvanni pulled some journals from his pack and began sifting through them, while I told them of another rift which we could escape through. Five miles north. Then another horn answered the first, directly north. It seemed the Wild Hunt was prepared for our coming.

"There is another way!" Nexius called to us, making us realize how much he was lagging behind.

Sir Kael picked him up, the Slimeblood in the mage's veins making his legs useless here.

"The Chapel of the Innocent Quarry is Northeast, if we are sanctioned by the hunt we can gather six keys and escape. Prince Hircine always leaves the Hare, us, a chance. It is his way. The Huntsman reflects on the tragic imbalances of power and the cruel injustices of the world". He explained some more but Sir Kael, leading the group, began running in that direction. He hoped to avoid the Huntsman Bold and his Hounds altogether.


Upon a cliff face, the trees were snarling and creaking as they tried to bend to hurt us. As we were distracted by this, a chariot pulled by wolves animated by nature careened around the hills. A dozen or so archers and a very large Nord was on it's back. Sir Kael and Jubals' reactions saved us, and a summoned Clannefear protected us as we decided to ride a tree down the side of the steep cliff. We almost died, and Sir Kael broke his left leg.

Holding onto the side of this tree was the large hairy Nord, who told us of how Firian Vanos, Moviris Sadras' late wife, had him join this hunt. To find his son, Nexius Telvanni.

Nexius was perturbed at this, he expected his father to be someone of note, someone intelligent. Not a hulking Nord hunter. He learned that as a child a Mythic Dawn Agent came into his bedroom and killed his parents, sometime later being found at the orphanage steps.

The Nord picked up Sir Kael and Nexius, and we willed ourselves faster, to escape the howling wolves.. and direbears.


Jubal and Kael sanctified themselves for the Hunt, being named Huntsmen as well as Hares. It was upon a log bridge we made our stand. The Nord "died" to a spear, leaving Sir Kael in the dirt against the Huntsman Bold, and the soul-rending Spear of Bitter Mercy. A touch would kill. The Knight Kael and the Huntsman Bold fought, Kael managing to disarm him and take the spear, although the Daedric Huntsman simply grew more blades from his body and ran closer. He acknowledged the honor in the hunt, and Kael promptly impaled him in the right eye. He withered away and was absorbed into the Spear.

Jubal's Clannefear saved me from a Werebear, soon to die from it, but not before Hawking accepted the blessing of Hircine and became a Werehawk, diving at the Werebear with sword-like talons and feathers that were slick as oil. He tore at the beast's neck and tendons stained the river.

Nexius' father had a key, the Huntsman had a key, and a chest left in the sole clearing for miles had three keys. It appeared the Hunt was indeed possible. We needed only one more, and to find the Chapel of Daedric Rites.


Running to the cliff face where the rift to escape the plane was, the Dragonguard decided to turn and speak to an aspect of Hircine. I was demanding that they come with me and escape this plane immediately, as a stampede of Stone Giants was coming for the cliff.

The Aspect asked them if they planned to take the cowards route and escape the hunt as the Suls do, to which Kael already knew his answer.

Jubal was more divided, and so they paused, looking at eachother. They knew they were close.

"We are not cowards" Kael stated. The cliff evaporated and the rift was gone. We were stuck here, and I was quite mad.

Hircine gifted them the last key and told them "The last lock was accepting your place as the Hare, acknowledging that injustice comes to every being, no matter how they run". He dissolved into black powder.


The stampede was only getting closer, and Kael and Jubal were just gripping the chain of keys together and meditating. I was vehement now, demanding that we get behind the Daedroth I summoned for safety, but they chose to sit in the open and meditate. They were right, in the end.

They saw what I did not, even with my knowledge of Oblivion. They, sanctified as Huntsmen, meditated on the imbalance of power in the world.

This is the purpose of the hunt.

Kael, who came to this first, was transported to the Chapel of Daedric Rites. He climbed the stairs with a broken leg, a symbol of his perseverance in the face of nearly unbeatable odds and injustice. It was all he had sword Oaths against, in reality. Atop the chapel he placed one key in six floating hands, and the portal opened, and we had escaped the Wild Hunt.

Hircine as a much more solidified Aspect, took off his own black hide cloak. Giving it to Sir Kael, telling him of how it will turn the blows of Oathbreakers and Spellcasters. The Savior's Hide, made of a corrupted Unicorn.



And so our journeys through Oblivion reached a pause, finding a safe place to rest through the next plane. We will not be discouraged in the face of these horrors, for our purpose is irrefutably dire, and our wills refutably unbreakable.




Perimundal Delivery: souljewel count: 0000-34-43-11-837

I submit this manuscript to Memospore, so that those that may follow us Above may know what awaits them.

The ending of the words is-


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