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by Bethesda Softworks


  Mention the "Nightingale" to any thief worth his salt and he'll laugh in your face. He'll tell you that the supposed avengers of the Daedric Lord Nocturnal are nothing but fictional characters who live nowhere else but within tales designed to scare young footpads into doing what they're told. But are they fictional or simply misunderstood?

  While it's true that most scholars would scoff at the notion of a holy sect appearing within the normally unethical and unorganized rabble that is the Thieves Guild, evidence suggests that such a group existed at one time within the borders of Skyrim. One hundred and twenty years before the publication of this tome, a corpse was discovered wearing a strange suit of armor that was described as "forged midnight." The tattered armor bore a crest of some sort, the symbol of a bird embracing a circle of undetailed blackness. The remains and the armor was taken to the College of Winterhold for study, but mysteriously vanished only a day after it arrived.

  The crest from this armor was circulated around Skyrim for years but identification proved almost impossible. Then the most unlikely of sources, a prisoner incarcerated within the mines of Markarth, claimed that it was the mark of a group of thieves who called themselves the Nightingales. When pressed for more information, the prisoner claimed that the Nightingales were warriors of Nocturnal and performed her bidding without question. He claimed his source was someone he knew within the Thieves Guild of Skyrim, but he refused to identify them by name, so his story was quickly dismissed.

  The second piece of evidence pointing to the existence of the Nightingales exists to this day just outside of Riften. Discovered at the terminus of a short pathway off of the main road stands a stone of unidentified blackened material. Carved into its face is the same avian symbol previously found on the dark suit of armor. To those that subscribed to the existence of the Nightingales, this was thought to be some sort of a meeting place. To others, this symbol was once again dismissed as a hoax or simply a diversion created by the Thieves Guild.

  The final, and most controversial sample of evidence is a passage found scrawled on the inside of a cell wall in Whiterun. The cell had previously been occupied by a Dunmer named Lorthus was incarcerated for murder and was set for execution. After the deed was performed, and Lorthus's cell was examined, the following was found etched into one of the stone blocks:

  "Take my hand Lady Nocturnal, for it's my will to serve you. As a Nightingale, I'm born anew. Let my past echo our triumph."

  This is the first and only time that a solid connection between Nocturnal and the Nightingale has been made. The unusual nature of the passage, the religious connotations towards Nocturnal made by a career criminal, kept discussions lively for years regarding the possibility of this group actually existing. Sadly, since not a single piece of evidence beyond this has surfaced to date, this exciting discovery faded into obscurity and the debate subsided.

  With these scant samples of evidence, conclusions are difficult to formulate. All we're left with are more questions than answers. Can religion and thievery coexist? Does the Daedric Lord Nocturnal have active agents roaming Skyrim with a no-doubt nefarious purpose? Does the Thieves Guild have extensive knowledge of the Nightingales, but remain sworn to secrecy? Perhaps one day the answers to these questions will be revealed, but at present it falls to you, the reader, to decide whether the Nightingales are fact or merely fiction.

  The Night Mother's Truth

  by Gaston Bellefort

  Although various works have been written on the subjects of both Morrowind's Morag Tong, and Tamriel's more widespread Dark Brotherhood, there remains confusion as to precisely when and how these two feared assassins guilds formed. Or, more specifically, when and how the Dark Brotherhood split from the Morag Tong, as the former is widely accepted to have sprung from the latter.

  The largest point of contention seems to be the figure of the Night Mother, a woman who figures prominently in both organizations. Through extensive research and interviews, and not inconsiderable risk to my own life (for the Dark Brotherhood holds this information sacred), I have finally solved this ages-old mystery. I have finally uncovered the Night Mother's Truth.

  Although her name has been lost to time, the Night Mother was once a mere mortal, a Dark Elf woman who lived in a small village once located where the city of Bravil stands now, in the Imperial Province of Cyrodiil. She was a respected member of the Morag Tong and, like her fellow members, this woman made her trade as an assassin in service to the Daedric Prince Mephala. In fact, the woman held the title of Night Mother, reserved for the highest ranking female member of the organization. To be Night Mother of a particular sect was to be that group's matron - the favored of Mephala, both respected and feared.

  However, it was not Mephala who facilitated the transformation from woman to spectre, but another, some would say far deeper form of evil - Sithis, the Dread Lord, embodiment of the unending Void.

  Following the Potentate's assassination in 2E 324, strife descended upon the Morag Tong, and the guild was all but eradicated in Cyrodiil and much of the Empire. It was shortly after these events that the Dunmer woman claimed to hear the voice of Sithis himself. The Dread Lord, she claimed, was displeased. He was unhappy with the Morag Tong's lack of success. The Void, he told her, was hungry for souls - and it was her destiny to set things right.

  And so, according to Dark Brotherhood legend, Sithis visited the Night Mother in her bed chamber, and begat her five children. Two years passed, before the unthinkable happened. The Dark Elf woman followed through with the Dread Lord's ultimate plan - one night, she murdered her children, and sent their souls straight to the Void. Straight to their father.

  When they learned of this affront to decency, the people of the village rallied against the woman. For such an act was considered incomprehensible, even for a Night Mother of the Morag Tong. In one night of vengeance, they descended upon the woman, killing her, and burning down the house in which the atrocity took place. And that was the end of the story. Or so everyone thought.

  A little more than thirty years later, an unnamed man heard a strange, comforting voice inside his very head, just as the Dunmer woman claimed to hear the voice of Sithis inside hers. The voice identified herself as the Night Mother, and named the man "Listener" - the first of many.

  And so the Unholy Matron set her servant on his path - he would found a new organization, a guild of assassins known as the Dark Brotherhood, in service not to Mephala, but to the Dread Lord Sithis. The Morag Tong, now surviving only in Morrowind, was an artifact of a forgotten age. The Dark Brotherhood would marry business with death. The organization would grow in wealth and power, and the Void would swell with fresh souls. It was, the Night Mother told her Listener, the perfect arrangement.

  In the early days of the Dark Brotherhood, the bodies of the Night Mother and her children were recovered from their original burial site, and interred in a crypt beneath the site of her house. And there they remain, even today.

  So if, in your travels, you find yourself in the city of Bravil, and make a wish at the statue of the Lucky Old Lady (as is the local custom), know that you stand on sacred, if evil, ground. For you stand above the Night Mother, the Unholy Matron herself, and your luck has just run out.

  The Nirnoot Missive (Revised Edition)

  By Sinderion

  The following is a transcript of the speech given by Master Alchemist Sinderion at the Alchemical Symposium on Rain's Hand of 4E 02. It is a revised version of an earlier missive Sinderion gave to the same group several years before. We've done the best we could to preserve the original tone of his speech, but some light embellishments have been made for editorial reasons and for clarity.

  Sharmirin Raythorne,

  Imperial Scribe

  I would like to address the Symposium today with some startling revelations regarding the nirnroot.

  Although this curiously tenacious flora grows almost anywhere a significant body of water is present, it's extremely rare, and soon to become extinct. Af
ter years of extensive research, and the tireless efforts of my field assistant, I came into the possession of a large sampling of nirnroot. According to the theories presented by the noted Imperial Herbalist Chivius Regelliam, the nirnroot once flourished until a cataclysmic event severely reduced their numbers. Although many scholars reject the proposal that the Sun's Death event of 1E 668 catastrophically affected plant life, Chivius felt that the nirnroot's normal growth cycle was interrupted by the lack of sun for a full year. Whereas other plant species tend to "find a way," the nirnroot's mysterious magical nature made it especially susceptible to this climate shift. While this may or may not be the case, it's certainly true that the recorded sightings of nirnroot are declining as the years pass.

  Chivius's notes oddly describe the nirnroot as emitting a "brilliant yellowish glow." Contrary to this fact, the nirnroot of today has a soft, haunting blue-white glow. Subsequent studies by other scholars have failed to adequately explain this shift in hue. I propose that the nirnroot sensed its own impending extinction and therefore altered its metabolism in order to survive. One of the most glaring pieces of evidence of my theory is the presence of nirnroot in subterranean environments... places completely devoid of sunlight. Strangely, Chivius's notes fail to mention even a single instance of a subterrestrial nirnroot. How could this be? How could a surface-dwelling plant suddenly begin appearing in new locations radically different from its normal habitat?

  The answer, my fellow alchemists, is ironically concealed within Chivius's own notes. Although he spends a great deal of time experimenting with the nirnroot in his laboratory, he overlooked an important part of a plant's growth cycle... its soil. Chivius was correct in assuming the volcanic eruption of Red Mountain contributed to the demise of the nirnroot, but I believe the ash from that mighty explosion did more than simply cloud the skies. When mixed with the fertile soil of Cyrodiil, this fine powder is the true cause of the nirnroot's astounding metamorphosis. Although little volcanic ash from that dark time remains, I have performed tests on samples sent to me from Vvardenfell. Careful scrutiny of the samples revealed that they were rife with "ash salt," a highly magical substance. Dunmer native to the Vvardenfell region were known to have used ash salt as an ingredient to cure the "Blight," an awful disease which decimated their realm hundreds of years ago. This unique property of the ash salt coupled with the nirnroot's inherent magic caused the radical change... in essence; the root "healed itself."

  In summation, it's clear that the nirnroot was dying and used a byproduct of its destructor to preserve itself. I feel the nirnroot has accomplished in a relatively short amount of time what it would take other species thousands of years to complete.

  Whether you subscribe to my theory or not, one thing is certain; the nirnroot is on a path to destruction. It contains untapped potential to create potions the likes of which have never been seen in our day. I propose to you today that we divert a small portion of our funds to an expedition to collect some of these roots to study. I have outlined this proposal for your perusal after this section of the Symposium. Please, seriously consider this proposal before it becomes too late, and the nirnroot becomes nothing but a memory.

  Thank you for your time.

  Nords Arise!

  by Anonymous

  Nords Arise! Throw off the shackles of Imperial oppression. Do not bow to the yoke of a false emperor. Be true to your blood, to your homeland.

  The empire tells us we cannot worship holy Talos. How can man set aside a god? How can a true Nord of Skyrim cast aside the god that rose from our own heartland? Mighty Tiber Septim, himself the first emperor, conqueror of all Tamriel, ascended to godhood to sit at the right hand of Akatosh. Tiber Septim, a true son of Skyrim, born in the land of snow and blood, bred to the honor of our people, is now Talos, god of might and honor. The Empire has no right to tell us we cannot worship him.

  Our own high king, Torygg, betrayed us to the empire. He traded our god for peace. He agreed to a pact with the Thalmor signed by an emperor in a foreign land. Are we to be beholden to such a pact? No! A thousand times no.

  Do not let the lessons of history go unheeded. The Aldmeri Dominion and its Thalmor masters made war upon men, just as the elves made war upon Ysgramor and our people in ancient times. Shining Saarthal was burned to the ground, reduced to ruins and rubble in their treacherous assault. But Ysgramor and his sons gathered the 500 Companions and made war upon the elves, casting them out of Skyrim. In the Great War fought by our fathers, the elves again betrayed men by attacking us unprovoked. The Dominion and the Thalmor cannot be trusted!

  Like Ysgramor, Ulfric Stormcloak is a true hero of Skyrim. His name will ring in Sovngarde for generations to come. Only he had the courage to single out King Torygg and challenge him to trial by arms. Ulfric's thu'um, a gift from Talos himself, struck down this traitorous ruler. And by his death we are now free of our Imperial shackles and the Thalmor overlords that darken the Imperial throne.

  The Empire has sent its Legions to govern us. They have enlisted our own countrymen to their cause. They have set brother against brother, father against son. They have caused Skyrim to battle itself in their name, for their cause. Do not let them divide us. Do not let them conquer us! Reject the Imperial law that forbids the worship of Talos. Join Ulfric Stormcloak and his cause!

  Nords of Skyrim

  Nords of Skyrim - My People, My Pride

  Respected reader. My name is Hrothmund Wolf-Heart, and I am a Nord. But, more importantly, I am a Nord born and raised in the land of Skyrim.

  I write this volume in the desperate hope that the rest of Tamriel can come to know my people as they deserve to be known, and understand this province for what it truly is - a place of uncontested beauty and culture.

  Some of what you know is undoubtedly true. Physically, we Nords are an impressive, often imposing sight - tall of stature, strong of bone, and thick of muscle. Our hair is often fair, and worn braided, as has been the custom for generations. Often we are swathed in the hides of beasts, for such creatures are abundant in Skyrim, and we would be foolish not to take advantage of such an available resource.

  Having read this far, you may be shocked at the strength of my words, and the literacy of a northern "savage." Aye, many Nords can both read and write. My father began my instruction in the way of letters when I was but a bairn, as did his father, and his father before him.

  But the accomplishments of the children of Skyrim are multitude, and go beyond mere wordcraft. For we are artisans as well, and through the ages have learned to manipulate steel the way a sculptor would clay.

  Indeed, I have seen with mine own eyes, visitors from High Rock and Cyrodiil weep in disbelief as they beheld the blades wrought in the fires of the Skyforge, and honed to beautiful deadliness by the gods-touched hands of Clan Gray-Mane.

  But how can this be true, you ask? How are such achievements possible from a people who have yet to emerge from the muck and snow? Again, provincial bias clouds the truth.

  The cities of Skyrim are a testament to Nord ingenuity and craftsmanship. Chief among them are Solitude, seat of the High King and capital of the province; Windhelm, ancient and honored, a jewel in the snow; Markarth, carved into the living rock itself, in ages long since past; Riften, nestled in the golden shadows of the Fall Forest, whence comes delicious fish and mead; and Whiterun, built around the hall of Jorrvaskr, home of the most noble Companions and revered Skyforge.

  And now, respected reader, you have the full measure of it. We Nords are everything you imagined - and so much more.

  But let not this work be your only gateway to the truth. Book passage on carriage or vessel, and make the journey north. See Skyrim with thine own eyes. See Skyrim as have the Nords, since the gods first shaped the world.

  Notes on Racial Phylogeny and Biology

  Seventh Edition

  By the Council of Healers, Imperial University

  After much analysis of living specimens, the Council long ago determined that a
ll "races" of elves and humans may mate with each other and bear fertile offspring. Generally the offspring bear the racial traits of the mother, though some traces of the father's race may also be present. It is less clear whether the Argonians and Khajiit are interfertile with both humans and elves. Though there have been many reports throughout the Eras of children from these unions, as well as stories of unions with daedra, there have been no well documented offspring. Khajiit differ from humans and elves not only their skeletal and dermal physiology -- the "fur" that covers their bodies -- but their metabolism and digestion as well. Argonians, like the dreugh, appear to be a semi-aquatic troglophile form of humans, though it is by no means clear whether the Argonians should be classified with dreugh, men, mer, or (in this author's opinion), certain tree-dwelling lizards in Black Marsh.

  The reproductive biology of orcs is at present not well understood, and the same is true of goblins, trolls, harpies, dreugh, tsaesci, imga, various daedra and many others. Certainly, there have been cases of intercourse between these "races," generally in the nature of rape or magickal seduction, but there have been no documented cases of pregnancy. Still the interfertility of these creatures and the civilized hominids has yet to be empirically established or refuted, likely due to the deep cultural differences. Surely any normal Bosmer or Breton impregnated by an orc would keep that shame to herself, and there's no reason to suppose that an orc maiden impregnated by a human would not be likewise ostracized by her society. Regrettably, our oaths as healers keep us from forcing a coupling to satisfy our scientific knowledge. We do know, however, that the sload of Thras are hermaphrodites in their youth and later reabsorb their reproductive organs once they are old enough to move about on land. It can be safely assumed that they are not interfertile with men or mer.

 

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