Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 23

The Scripture of the Sword, First:

: The sword, treated as a delicate meal, is the Symbolic Collage. It serves you well in the first half of life. Name one dynasty that knows this not. 

Second:

: The unity of my approach is understood by the immobile warrior. True eyes are acquired. Rejoice as my own subjects and realms. I build for you a city of swords, by which I mean laws that cut the people who live there into better shapes. 

Third:

: Girls burn their dresses on my arrival if I am armored. They crawl to me as bled pilgrims. Minor spirits die without trace. Follow me of all the ALMSIVI if you are to mark your days with killing. AE ALTADOON, the third law of weaponry. 

Fourth:

: The immobile warrior is never fatigued. He cuts sleep holes in the middle of a battle to regain his strength. 

Fifth:

: Instinct is not reflex action, but mini-miracles held in reserve. I am the welfare that decides which warrior will emerge. Beg not for luck. Serve me to win. 

Sixth:

: The span of the apparently inactivated is your love of the absolute. The   is the abortion of kindness from love. 

Seventh:

: The true sword is able to cut chains of generations, which is to say, the creation myths of your enemies. Look on me as the exiled garden. All else is uncut weed. 

Eighth:

: I give you an ancient road tempered by the  . Your hands must be huge to wield any sword the size of an ancient road, and yet he who is of right stature may irritate the sun with only a stick. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 24

Then   left the   and went back to the space that was not a space. From the Provisional House he looked into the middle world to find the third monster, called Horde Mountain. It was made of modular warriors running free but spaced according to pattern, and from the highest warrior who could cut clouds they spread out beneath him like a tree, a skirt whose bottom circle was an army that ran through the ash.

Vivec admired the cone-shape of his child and remembered with joy the whirlwind of fighting styles that instructed him during the days before life.

Vivec moved into Veloth, saying,  Onus. 

But before he could even get within sword-span of the monster, a trio of lower houses had trapped Horde Mountain in a net of doubtful doctrine. When they saw their lord, the   cheered.

: We are happy to serve you and win!  they said.

Vivec smiled at those brave souls around him and summoned celebration demons to cleave unto the victors. There was a great display of love and duty around the netted monster, and Vivec was at the center with a headdress made of mating bones. He laughed and told mystical jokes and made the heads of the three houses marry and become a new order.

: You shall forever be now my  s,  he said.

Then Vivec pierced Horde Mountain with   and made of it all a big bag of bones. At the touch of his right hand the net became right scripture and he threw it all northeasterly. The contents spread out like sugar-glows and Vivec and the Buoyant Armigers ran under it laughing.

Finally the bones of Horde Mountain landed and became the foundation stones for the  , which Vivec named after his own sigil, and the net fell across it all and between, or became as bridges between bones, and since its segments had been touched by his holy wisdom they became the most perfect of all city streets in the known worlds.

Throngs of Velothi came to the new city and   and   gave it their blessing. The streets were filled with laughter and love and the strength of tree-shaped enemy children.

Ayem said:

: To my sister-brother's city I give the holy protection of House Indoril, whose powers and thrones know no equal under heaven, wherefrom came the Hortator. 

Seht said:

: To my sister-brother's city I give safe passage through the dark corners still left of Molag Bal, and I give it this spell as well: SO-T-HA SIL, which is my name to the mighty. It will protect the lost unless their flight is on purpose and fill all the roads and alleys with the mystery paths of civilization, and give the city a mind and make of it a conduit to the full concentrate of the ALMSIVI. 

Thus was founded the city of Vivec in the days of Resdaynia.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 25

The Scripture of the City:

: All cities are born of solid light. Such is my city, his city.

: But then the light subsides, revealing the bright and terrible angel of Veloth. He is in his pre-chimerical form, demonic  , gaunt and pale and beautiful, skin stretched painfully thin on bird's bones, feathered serpents encircling his arms. His wings are spread out behind him, their red and yellow ends like razors in the sun. The wispy mass of his fire hair floats as if underwater, milky in the nimbus of light that crowns his head. His presence is undeniable, the awe too much to bear.

: This is God's city, different from others. Cities from foreign countries put their denizens to sleep and walk to the   to pay homage to me. The   of the  , crusty with eon's ice, bows before  , me it together.

: Self-thought streets rush through tunnel blood. I have rebuilt myself. Hyper eyed signposts along my traffic arm, soon to be an inner sea. My body is crawling with all gathered to see me rising up like a monolithic instrument of pleasure. My spine is the main road to the city that I am. Countless transactions are taking place in veins and catwalks and the roaming, roaming, roaming, as they roam over and through and add to me. There are temples erected along the hollow of my skull and I will ever wear them as a crown. Walk across the lips of God.

: They add new doors to me and I become effortlessly trans-immortal with the comings and goings and the stride-heat of the market where I am traded for, yell of the children hear them play, scoffed at, amused, desired, paid for in native coin, new minted with my face on one side and my city-body on the other. I stare with each new window. Soon I am a million-eyed insect dreaming.

: Red-sparking war trumpets sound like cattle in the ribcage of shuffling transit. The heretics are destroyed on the plaza knees. I flood over into the hills, houses rising like a rash, and I never scratch. Cities are the antidotes to hunting.

: I raise lanterns to light my hollows, lend wax to the thousands the candlesticks that bear my name again and again, the name innumerable, shutting in, mantra and priest, god-city, filling every corner with the naming name, wheeled, circling, running river language giggling with footfalls mating, selling, stealing, searching, and worry not ye who walk with me. This is the flowering scheme of the Aurbis. This is the promise of the  : egg, image, man, god, city, state. I serve and am served. I am made of wire and string and mortar and I accede my own precedent, world without am. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 26

Then   left his architectural rapture and went back to the space that was not a space. From the Provisional House he looked into the middle world to find the fourth monster, called The Pocket Cabal.

The monster hid itself in the spell-lists of the great  i  , where the  s grow wild. Vivec disguised himself as a simple traveler, but radiated a tenuous sense-fabric so that the wizards would seek him out. Of   he made a simple walking dwarf.

Before long the invisible one was among the libraries of the east, feeding the essential words of The Pocket Cabal to his walking dwarf and then running when the magic would fail. After a year or two of this thievery, Muatra was sick to its stomach, and the walking dwarf exploded near the   of a wizard's tower. The Pocket Cabal then slipped itself into the mouths of the slaves and hid again.

Vivec then watched as the slaves erupted into babble and breaking magic. They rattled their cages and sung out half-hymns that formed into forbidden and arcane knowledge. Litany fiends appeared and drank from the excess.  s from the Adjacent Place came into the world sideways, the slave talking having disrupted the normal non-cardinal points.

So of course a giant bug appeared, with the greatest eastern wizard inside it. He could see past Vivec's disguise and knew of the warrior-poet's divinity but he thought himself so powerful that he talked harshly:

: See what you have wrought, silly  ! Columns of nonsense and litany fiends! I cannot believe how reason or temperance can be made whole again due to your eating, eating, eating!  , why don't you? 

Vivec stabbed the wizard through his soul.

The giant bug harness fell on the slave cages and the slaves ran about free and reckless, too reckless more with pregnant words. Colors bent into the earth. Vivec created a dome-head demon to contain it all.

: The Pocket Cabal is therefore interred here forever. Let this be a cursed land where sorcery is broken and maligned. 

Then he picked up Muatra by the beard and left the ghostly hemisphere of the dome-head demon. On its boundaries, Vivec placed a warning and a song of entrance that contained errors in it. With mock bones of half-dead Muatra he created the tent poles of a fortress-theory and fatal languages were imprisoned for all time.

  appeared and looked on what his brother-sister had created. The Clockwork King said:

: Of the eight monsters, this is the most confusing. May I treasure it? 

Vivec gave Seht leave to do so, but told him never to release The Pocket Cabal into the middle world. He said:

: I have hidden secrets in my travels here and made a likeness of Muatra to ward against the unwise. Under this dome, the temporal myth is no longer man. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 27

The Scripture of the Word, First:

: All language is based on meat. Do not let the sophists fool you. 

Second:

: The third walking path explores hysteria without fear. The efforts of madmen are a society of itself, but only if they are written. The wise may substitute one law for another, even into incoherence, and still say he is working within a method. This is true of speech and extends to all scripture. 

Third:

: Do not go to the realm of apology for absolution. Beyond articulation, there is no fault. The Adjacent Place, where the  s live, is the illusion of the vocal or the middle realms of thought, by which I mean the constructed. This is how I   of the Chancellor of Exactitude, perfect to look upon from every angle. When you come out of the vocal, you can never be certain. 

Fourth:

: The truest body of work is made up of silence: as in the silence that results from no reference. By the word I mean the dead. 

Fifth:

: The first meaning is always hidden. 

Sixth:

: The realm of apology is perfection and impossible to attack. Thus, the wise avoid it. Trinity in unity is the world and word of action: the third walking path. 

Seventh:

: The sage who suppresses his best aphorism: cut off his hands, for he is a thief. 

Eighth:

: The clothes of the broken map are worn only by fools and heretics. The map is an exit for laziness. It is the dusty tongue, which is to say the given chart that most take as a story that is complete. No word is true until it is eaten. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 28

Then   left   to look after the dome-head demon and went back to the space that was not a space. From the Provisional House he looked into the middle world to find the fifth monster, called  .

When the  s ruled the world, the     had been their chief. He took a different shape then, spiny and armored and made for the sea. Vivec, in giving birth to the many spawn of his marriage, had dropped an old image of Molag Bal into the world: a dead carapace of memory. It would not have been a monster if a   child had not wanted to impress his village by wearing it.

The Ruddy Man, of the eight monsters, was the least complicated. He made those who wore him into mighty killers and nothing more. He existed in the physical. Only geography makes him special.

When Vivec found him   the boy's village, anon  , there was a violent clash of arms and an upheaval of the earth. Their battle created the  .   that still go there hear still the sounds of it: sword across the crust, the grunt of God, the snapping of his monster child's splintered legs.

After his victory, Vivec took the shell of The Ruddy Man to the dreughs that had modified his mother. The Queen of Dreughs, whose name is not easy to spell, was in a period of self-incubation. Her wardens took the gift from Vivec and promised to guard it from the surface world. This is the first account of dreughs being liars.

In ten years, The Ruddy Man appeared again, this time near  , worn by a wayward shaman who followed the  . Instead of guarding it, the dreughs had imbued the living armor with mythic inflexibility. It molted soon after skill-draping the shaman and stretched his bones to the five corners.

When Vivec met the monster in battle again he saw the remains of three villages dripping from its feet. He took on his giant form and slew The Ruddy Man by way of the Symbolic Collage. Since he no longer trusted the   of the sea, Vivec gave the carapace of the monster to the devout and loyal mystics of the Number Room. He told them:

: You may make of The Ruddy Man a philosopher's armor. 

The mystics began by wrapping one of their sages in the shells, a series of flourishes by two supra numerates, one hormonally tall and the other just under his arms. They ran around the carapace and through each other, applying holy resin drawn from the carcasses of the now-useless numbers between twelve and thirteen. Golden straws were quickly stuck through the mythic epidermal so the sage could breathe. After the ceremonial etchings were drawn into hardening resin, long lists of dead names and equations whose solutions were to be found in the mouth of the Chimer inside, there came the illuminations, inscribed by the bright, terrible fingernail of Vivec. From the nail's tip flowed a searing liquid, filling the grooves of the ceremonial etchings. They bled out to form veined patterns about the sage-shell that theologians would decipher forever after.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 29

The Scripture of the Numbers:

1. The Dragon Break, or the Tower. 1

2. The Enantiomorph. 68

3. The Invisible Gate, ALMSIVI. 112

4. The Corners of House of Troubles. 242

5. The Corners of the World. 100

6. The Walking Ways. 266

7. The Sword at the Center. 39

8. The Wheel, or the Eight Givers. 484

9. The Missing. 11

10. The Tribes of the Altmer. 140

11. The Number of the Master. 102

12. The Heavens. 379

13. The Serpent. 36

14. The King's Cough. 32

15. The Redeeming Force. 110

16. The Acceptable Blasphemes. 12

17. The Hurling Disk. 283

18. The Egg, or Six Times the Wise.

19. The  . 258

20. The Lunar Lattice. 425

21. The Womb. 13

22. Unknown. 453

23. The Hollow Prophet. 54

24. The Star Wound. 44

25. The Emperor. 239

26. The Rogue Plane. 81

27. The Secret Fire. 120

28. The Drowned Lamp. 8

29. The Captive Sage. 217

30. The Scarab. 10

31. The Listening Frame. 473

32. The False Call. 7

33.  . 234

34. The Lawless Grammar. 2

35. The Prison-Shirt. 191

36. The Hours. 364

: The presence of deaf witness, this is what the numbers are. They hang onto the Aurbis as the last nostalgia of their godhood. The effigies of numbers are their current applications; this is folly, as above. To be affixed to a symbol is too, too certain. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 30

Then   left the mystics of the Number Room and went back to the space that was not a space. From the Provisional House he looked into the middle world to find the sixth monster, called City-Face. He was vexed when he could not find it and went back to the   in secret anger, killing a mystic that asked about higher order.

Nerevar, the Hortator, witnessed this and said,  Why do this, milord? The mystics look to you for guidance. They work to make your temple better stoned. 

Vivec said,  No one knows what I am. 

The Hortator nodded and went back to his studies.

Here is how City-Face hid from his mother-father: it had been born named as Ha-Note, a bare urge of power, an esoteric wind nerve tuned to the frequency of huddled masses. It found root in villages and multiplied, finding in the minds of the settled a veiled astrology, the star charts of culture, and this resonance made its head swim. Ha-Note moved sideways into the Adjacent Place, growing and unbeknownst. Above the vocal, it trembled with new emotions, immortal ones, absorbing more than the thirty known to exist in the middle world. When Ha-Note became gravely homesick, the  s took it.

A Grabber said,  New emotions to the lonely occur only of madness. This thing is gone. It is ours now. 

Grabbers had never made a city of their own, and their glimpse of  , which shone with holiness through all the spheres, had taken their attention.

: Under this reason did the issue of Vehk slide into our realm, drawn by our coveting, hidden in loss. We shall build our tower-hope upon its face. 

Now many years had passed in  ia, and the high priests of the   were building something alike as Vivec and alike as the new Ha-Note of the Grabbers. The Hortator was engaged with an army of theirs that had become too brave, talking foolish words, and Nerevar helped destroy them with the help of the orphan legion of  . When he went to give trophy to Vivec, he saw his lord under attack by the City-Face. The monster was saying this:

: Here we are to replace your city, Vehk and Vehk. We are from the place of the more-than-known emotions, and our citizenry has died from it. Two things we came for, but can stay for only one. Either we ask you to correct our error of culture, or merely take yours by dint of force. The second is easiest, we think. 

Vivec sighed.

: You would replace my direction,  he said.  I weary of this, though I wanted to kill you an age before. Resdaynia is fallen ill, and I have no time for one more imaginary analogy of an unknown incident. Here, take this. 

At which he touched the tower-hope of the City-Face and corrected the error of the Grabbers.

: And this. 

At which he stabbed the heart of the City-Face with the  , which is to say   AI AE ALTADOON AI, the short blade of proper commerce.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 31

Many more years passed in Resdaynia, and the high priests of the   were almost ready to make war on the rulers of  . The Hortator had become the husband of   during this time, and the first saint of the Triune way.   had tired of fighting his sons and daughters, and so took a respite from trying to find them.

The Hortator said to his wife,  Where is Vivec, my teacher? I love him still, though he grows cold. His lamentations, if I may call them that, have changed the skin of the whole  . He is hardly to be found anywhere in Veloth of late. The people grow dark because of it. 

And Ayem took mercy on her troubled husband and told him that the sword of the Triune had been fighting minor monsters stirred up by the Dwemer as they worked on their brass siege machines. She took the Hortator inside her and showed him where his master was.

ALMSIVI, or at least that aspect that chose to be Vivec, sat in the Litany Hall of the   Temple after his battle with the Flute-and-Pipe  s of the  . He began writing, again, in his Book of Hours. He had to put on his Water Face first. That way he could separate the bronze of the Old Temple from the   and write with happiness. Second, he had to take another feather from the Big Moon, further rendering it dead. That way he could write about mortals with truth. Third, he recalled the  , where he was forced to marry to   with wet scriptures to cement his likeness as   and write with black hands. He wrote:

The last time I heard his voice, showing the slightest sign of impatience, I learned to control myself and submit to the will of others. Afterwards, I dared to take on the sacred fire and realized there was no equilibrium with the ET'ADA. They were liars, lost roots, and the most I can do is to be an interpreter into the rational. Even that fails the needs of the people. I sit on the mercy seat and pass judgment, the waking state, and the phase aspect of the innate urge. Only here can I doubt, in this book, written in water, broadened to include evil.

Then Vivec threw his ink on this passage to cover it up (for the lay reader) and wrote instead:

Find me in the blackened paper, unarmored, in final scenery. Truth is like my husband: instructed to smash, filled with procedure and noise, hammering, weighty, heaviness made schematic, lessons learned only by a mace. Let those that hear me then be buffeted, and let   in the ash from the striking. Let those that find him find him murdered by illumination, pummeled like a  , because, if an hour is golden, then immortal I am a secret code. I am the partaker of the Doom Drum, chosen of all those that dwell in the middle world to wear this crown, which reverberates with truth, and I am the mangling messiah.

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.
Lore:36 Lessons of Vivec, Sermon 32

The Scripture of the Mace, First:

: The pleasure of annihilation is the pleasure of disappearing into the unreal. All those that would challenge the sleeping world will seek membership in this movement. I denounce the alienation of the Cloven Duality with a hammer. 

Second:

: Take from me the lessons as a punishment for being mortal. To be made of dirt is to be treated as such by your jailers. This is the key and the lock of the Daedra. Why do you think they escaped the compromise? 

Third:

: Velothi, your skin has become the pregnant darkness. My brooding has brought this on. Remember that Boethiah asked you to become the color of bruise. How else to show yourselves people of the exodus into the vital: pain? 

Fourth:

: The sage who is not an anvil: a conventional sentence and nothing more. By which I mean dead, the fourth walking way. 

Fifth:

: A proper comprehension of the virtues: stage-managed and to be murdered. 

Sixth:

: In the end, rejoice as a hostage released from drumming torment but that savors his wound. The drum breaks and you find it to be a nest of hornets, which is to say: your sleep is over. 

Seventh:

: The suspicious is spectacle and the lie is only a theoretical inspiration. 

Eighth:

: But then why, you ask, do the Daedra wish to meddle with the Aurbis? It is because they are the radical critique, essential as all martyrs. That some are more evil than others   not an illusion. Or rather, it is a necessary illusion. 

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.