Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Lore:The Snow Elf and the Variation-Lens

Mzulchond the Tonal Architect had spent twenty years attuning the great animus geode he'd found in Inner Duathand, trying to synchronize it with the precession of the dual equinoxes in order to captivate the Nirnpith Essence. The geode's vibratory affinities continued to elude him, however, so one day he threw down his attenuators, left his workshop  and went to the kitchens for an infusion of chal.

As he approached the kitchen portal he heard sibilant music that cut off abruptly as he stepped over the threshold. His house-assistant, a   maiden named Lilyarel, withdrew her hands from behind the steam-grill and looked up guiltily.

"I heard music, Lilyarel," Mzulchond said. "What did you just put behind the calorefactor?"

"It's nothing, Sir Dwarf," the maiden replied. "Just something I cobbled together to pass the time."

"What? Have you been in my device-closet again? Show me what you have there."

Reluctantly, the Snow Elf reached behind the steam-grill and drew out a fist-sized object of golden metal, crystal knobs glinting on its flange-hood. Mzulchond held out his hand, open, and Lilyarel carefully placed the object in it. "Don't drop it," she said. "It'll get de-tuned."

"Well, well," the engineer said. "So you've built yourself a crude tonal variation-lens. Is this what was playing the music I heard?"

"Yes, Sir Dwarf," the maiden said, gazing at the floor. "I hope I didn't do anything wrong."

"What, with this device? There's nothing dangerous in a melodic repeater bauble, so long as it doesn't leak bthun-waves from its volumizer. Can't have that—might interfere with the static condensers."

"Oh, don't worry, I used arkoid shielding—not very much!" she said anxiously. "But it's not a melodic repeater, Sir, it harmonizes with my mental melodies."

"Nonsense," Mzulchond scoffed. "No one knows how to synchronize a variation-lens with mental concept-cycles. It's never been done."

"I wouldn't know anything about that, Sir Dwarf," Lilyarel said, wringing her hands nervously. "I just flipped the duum-emitter so it canceled the demi-ektar-waves, and it worked just fine. Can I have it back now?"

"Hold on a dzum," the engineer said, raising a hand while he looked more closely at the gleaming device. "Flipping the duum-emitter cancels the demi-ektars? Yes … yes, I can see how that might work. This may be just the thing I need to attune my animus geode to the Nirnpith Essence!"

As Mzulchond turned in excitement to take the variation-lens back to his workshop, the Elf maiden picked up a flipper-strut with both hands and struck him across the back of the head. The tonal architect fell dead to the ground, as Lilyarel picked up her shiny device. "Never liked him," she hissed to herself. "Always smelled like Dwemer oil."

Then she opened the brazen louvers of a vent-tube, crawled in, and began lowering herself down through the inwards of the Dwarven city. "Guess I'm going down to join the Undermer, and not coming back." And with that, she turned on her variation-lens, which immediately began harmonizing with her mental melodies.
Online:Drowned Coast Dolmen

Wisps can be found on the island even when the Anchor isn't active, and there's a wispmother on top of the beached wreck.
 

Notes
Swimming to the island from the northwest is impossible due to a slaughterfish barrier.
Lore:Hagrof the Righteous

As Champion, Hagrof was known for his honor, humility, and respect for his fellow gladiators. He was known to honor his vanquished foes with proper burials in accordance with the customs of their people. When he was finally defeated, after staggering to the center of  , bleeding from a hundred wounds, it is said that the gladiators of every race stood in silent salute, then carried his body to an ancient pyre and gave him a funeral worthy of a   king.

Usurped:  

Defeated By:
Online:Breton Bedtime Stories (Loose Page)

First, the bear clawed at the tree. Then, he roared at it. He bit its bark and chewed. Yet the princess stayed safe, laughing all the while.

Finally, the bear sat back on its haunches and spoke. "Why do you fear, little girl?"

The princess shouted down, "Because you'll eat me, silly bear!"

The bear just shook its grizzled head. "I do not eat children. Come down, and we will play a game."

But the princess was too clever for the crafty bear. She knew it was a trick. "Come up here, if you're so eager for a game!"

The bear grunted. It began to climb.

 

Bring your mother to the ruins. Open the door as we discussed. Hurry, Visanne. It is the only place we can be safe. I love you.

— R
Lore:Lucius the Stalwart

Lucius the Stalwart was the protege of a former Champion,  . Lucius was a scholar who came to   after he was hired to write Hagrof's legacy. The volume was unfinished when Hagrof was defeated, and the loss of his mentor sent Lucius into a rage. Swearing to avenge him, Lucius trained for decades in an attempt to master Hagrof's skills, all the while building up an immunity to  's poison. The fight between Lucius and The Thousand Arrows was long and bloody. In the end, Lucius' ability to withstand the poison allowed him to claim victory, but the process left him permanently weakened. A year later, a challenger named   appeared. In his weakened state, Lucius was no match for him. As his life's blood drained from his crumpled body, it is said that Lucius welcomed his death, as Hagrof had been avenged and was awaiting his loyal servant in  .

Usurped: The Thousand Arrows

Defeated By: Whitebear
Online:Xylo River Basin Dolmen

Related Quests


Notes
There is a Nirnroot glitched under the earth on the north side of the Dolmen, behind a stone pillar which can be heard. It can only seen with the alchemy skill keen eyes.
Online:Dawnmead Dolmen

It appears to have been a farm before the anchors dropped; among the ruins north of the structure is a corn field and a plow. A basket, a few sacks, a backpack, a barrel and two potatoes can be looted from the burning house to the south. a thieves trove can spawn up on the cliff south of the dolmen, beside a group of Cragkin goblins, a backpack and a bedroll.thumb|right|Inactive
Lore:Ferian Darkstorm

Ferian Darkstorm, also known as Ferian the Passive, reigned as Champion for a very short time. It is said that he grew soft and complacent once he was crowned Champion, and was known to fight only when severely criticized. His lack of willingness to defend his crown led to the first Gladiator Uprising, when prominent gladiator named   led his clan into   to force Ferian's hand. Ferian eventually acceded to the pressure, lest he and all his guards be destroyed by the angry gladiators, but in the end, Ferian still fell under Felhorn's blade.

Usurped:  

Defeated By: Felhorn
Lore:Felhorn

Felhorn claimed the   in the bloody revolt known as the  . He led an army into   and demanded to fight the current Champion,  . Ferian reluctantly agreed, and after a monumental fight, the former Champion was cleaved in two by Felhorn's enchanted  . Humbled by his near defeat, Felhorn disbanded his army and took his seat as Champion of the Blessed Crucible. It was he who erected great monuments to   within the arena.

Usurped: Ferian Darkstorm

Defeated By:
Lore:A Child's Play

Where she stepped, a circle of flowers grew, filling the outline of her footsteps. Sometimes, she walked backwards to watch the green tendrils unfurl, their tips blossoming into pale blue, yellow, or red.

"Stop that," Nautte said crossly. "Don't waste your energy on such trifles."

  paused in mid-stride, her head tilted to one side.

"It costs me nothing to think of flowers," she replied. And she stepped carefully again, defiantly creating one more circle.

"Your   foretold a great future for you," said her mother severely. "But all I foresee is a good whipping!"

With a laugh, Gwaering danced toward her mother and kissed her repentantly. Then she caught sight of   peering through the window, and forgot all else.

"May I play with Ulthorn?"

"Go, child."

Gwaering was gone almost before the words left her mother's lips. With a sigh, Nautte added softly, "Play while you still can."
Lore:A Light on the Moor

Walking one night along the rain-sodden roads that mark passage through the  l moors, a pilgrim spied a lantern in the mist.

"My word," he said, as he stopped to stare, pushing up his funny white hat to get a better view, "Some poor traveler has lost his way!"

"Ho, there!" he cried, "The road is here!"

Hearing no response, but not being one to leave a fellow mer to the mercy of the marsh, the pilgrim strayed from his own path and waded into the putrid waters between him and the light. Boots sloshing through the blackened muck, he could hardly make the gleam out through the mist ahead of him.

Undeterred, he pressed forward, with hardly a thought for his own mortality. "Surely they can hear me now," he thought, then cried out once more.

"Ho, good friend! The road lies this way!"

Again hearing no response, he took a moment to look around. Mist was all he found there, in the dark. He could see neither his horse nor his barrow, where he had staked it. Shivering there in his own lamplight, hopelessly lost, he wondered whether he would ever return to the road.

Deciding two lost souls would fare better than one, and up to his chest in peat and putrid water, he pressed on toward the light.

One by one, he lost his boots to the marsh, buried deep in the sucking pits that marked his passage. Bootless, he continued until he could go no further.

It was then, coming around a copse of trees, that he came upon a small glass lantern hanging from a tree branch. Searching for any sign of its owner, he spied a wide-brimmed bonnet where it lay abandoned on the ground. As he stood there wondering, the bright yellow flame of the tiny lantern flickered, then guttered out.

He looked to his own lantern, bobbing happily in the water above his shoulders, and took another step only to find he couldn't. Indeed, he could barely shift his waist, so thick was the muck he'd mired in.

Looking skyward, he reached for the grasping, wooden fingers of the trees above, only to find them beyond his grasp.

So he stood there, in the dark, until the murky waters swallowed his throat, his mouth, and his funny white cap. His final breath bubbled up through the muck, and that was the last of the pilgrim.

Walking one night along the rain-sodden roads that mark passage through the Glenumbral moors, a merchant spied a lantern in the mist.

"My, my," he said, as he stopped to stare, pushing up his broad visor to get a better view, "Some poor fellow's lost his way!"
Lore:A Tale Forever Told

The Silvenar walked with eyes open across  . His heart, torn from its primal aspects, was an empty pit.

From the wild came a   unlike any other. Her eyes were of fire, hair of wind and rain, and all who gazed upon her quaked in fear. All except the Silvenar.

Though she bared her fangs, he did not shy away. Though she sought to lose him in the underbrush, the vines parted for him to follow. She growled, filled with confused desires, wishing both to stay, and to leave.

In a bright clearing, she faced the Silvenar, and ripped at him with claws and teeth. Though he fended off her blows, still his blood soaked into the grass and the flowers wept. Her rage spent, the   finally stepped back and addressed the Silvenar.

"Why do you follow me? You are not one of us!" She spat upon the ground, her fists still clenched, stained with his blood.

"But I am of you," the Silvenar said quietly. "Come, let me open your eyes to the green singing."

Curious, the Green Lady came to the Silvenar. Long did they stare unspeaking, until they warmed to union. The forest shuddered as spirit and body became one.

With his touch, she saw the dance of  , and learned the ways and wiles of Valenwood. His emptiness filled with her passion, and his nameless longing waned.

Their union both tamed the wild and invigorated the greenery.
Online:A Token of My Affection

Gwaering saw it first. A  , with eyes bright as the moons shining overhead. We'd set the decoy earlier in the day, and with an arrow loosed it past the beast.

Somehow it guessed our treachery! That old monster turned and glared at the blind we'd thought hidden so well in the underbrush. It snarled, and like a black wind did rush us with all its speed.

Gwaering let fly an arrow. Swift as lightning did it plunge into the beast's eye, yet still it charged on! When it reached my spear, its bulk lifted me from the ground. Were my grip not sure, I'd have sprawled into the trees above, so powerful were its death throes.

Gwaering extinguished its burning eyes with her blade. I kept the skull. From it shall I fashion a token of my affection.
Lore:An Unexpected Defense

The thief waited in the darkest corner of the common room, watching. Few paid heed to him; a petty noble made eye contact with him for a moment, but he was not the man the thief was seeking. After a time, a man dressed as an unobtrusive merchant approached the thief and slipped him a rolled sheet of parchment. With easy grace he slipped the parchment up his shirtsleeve, and with a slight nod to the man he left the tavern.

By the light of   he unrolled the scroll and looked it over. On the yellowing page was sketched the floor plan of a sturdy tower, showing all of the entrances and exits as well as marking the location of his target, a small chest hidden on the highest level of the tower. As he strolled out of town a lady of the evening called to him, but he had other treasures on his mind.

The tower stood tall and dark, looming grimly above the surrounding trees. It did not take the thief long to scale the outside of the tower, to one of the upper windows that he intended to use as his means of entrance. He slipped easily through the window and crouched there for a moment in the darkness, listening. Then suddenly the entire room was alight with fire—bolts of flame streaming directly at him. " 's teeth!" he cursed as he dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the bolts of fire. He hadn't been expecting a mage.
Lore:Chronicles of Ehtelar, Vol. 2

Ehtelar awoke in darkness, faint rivulets of falling sand powdering her brow. Memories of her short battle in the ruins above flashed through her mind.

Rahad, the   merchant who had accompanied her into the desert, was dead, taken unaware in the ruins above. His   lay buried in the skull of the creature that did him in.

She remembered the sickening crunch it had made as steel met skull, the hideous scraping vibration in her arm as she drove it home. Then the ground had opened up, devouring the world to send her tumbling into the abyssal void below.

How far had she fallen, and for how long? Sand, then stars had accompanied her fall before the deepest darkness had swallowed her up, but she had no memory of landing.

Deprived of sight, she felt around her to gather what she could of her surroundings. While her arms were free, her legs felt leaden under the sand that covered them and she immediately began excavating herself.

As she worked, the metallic tang of blood filled the air. Feeling her leg, she felt the warm grating wet that could only be sand in clotting blood.

Cursing under her breath, she undid her belt and cinched its cold leather just above the gouge in her calf. Feeling her way in the dark, she tore several strips of fabric from her tunic, winding it surely about the wound.

If it held, her handiwork would stop the bleeding, but she had no potions to stave off infection. She would need to find a way back to her caravan soon.

Still blinded by the depthless shadow around her, she exhumed her other leg and began feeling in her pack for a token Rahad had given her.

"Nights in the waste are deeper than  's belly," he'd said. "When you lose yourself, pray to  . He will show you the way."

Her fingers closed about the tiny coin. Pulling it from its hiding place, she closed her eyes and mouthed, " ." Eyelids flushing coral from the sudden light, she opened them to survey the cavern sprawling out before her.

Heavy stone blocks, shattered from the fall, lay in shards all around her. Further out, enormous pillars reached like trees up into darkness, casting long shadows out into the black.

Looking up, her breath caught in her throat as the bright eyes and maw of the   gaped out at her from the dark. Though unmoving, Rahad's sword still embedded in its skull, it was half a hundred heartbeats before she could look away.

Still recovering from the shock, she resumed her search and found several long, hooked spears scattered about the sand. Taking one up, she grabbed hold of her pack and slid down the lonely dune.

Boots met stone and she braced her spear against one of the mighty pillars. Using it to steady herself, she stood upright.

She took a moment to test her wounded leg. When it became clear it would not fail her, she gathered up her pack, dusted herself off, and struck out into the darkness.

In the deep quiet, muffled by the vast expanse of nothing reaching out around her, her passage was marked only by a steady staccato of steel on stone.
Online:Confessions of a Bold Alchemist

I confess it. I'm an  . I love to mix things together to see what happens. The mystery and magic of the alchemical process fascinates me. On the one hand, it's acutely precise, with weights and measures that must be painstakingly adhered to. On the other hand, it's wildly impromptu, with plenty of room for spontaneity and impulsiveness. Indeed, some of the biggest alchemical breakthroughs must be attributed to aggressive leaps of faith and logic.

And I confess: I love adventure. I like to explore caves and dark swamps in search of alchemical  , and I enjoy experimenting with mixtures and concoctions until something explodes. In fact, the more risky or unexpected the undertaking, the more I enjoy the experience. I find such exploits … exhilarating!

Does this juxtaposition make me special? Brave? Just plain strange? I'm certainly not a frail, scholarly professor, hidden away in my secret laboratory and toiling away at my experiments. But you be the judge. Let me tell you about one of my recent adventures. It happened exactly as I shall describe. More or less.

I was deep in the wilds of  , looking for  , when a customer entered my alchemy shop.

Blast it! An actual customer! And look what I did. I'll have to finish this later ….
Online:Lagomere Dolmen

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Online:Redolent Loam Dolmen

Notes
This dolmen has a higher than normal chance of having the final boss be a Dread Grievous Twilight.
Online:Giant's Run Dolmen

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Online:Zabamat Dolmen

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Online:Applewatch Wood Dolmen

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Online:Eastern Shore Dolmen

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Lore:Correct Ways of Slaying Ra-Netu: 12

Though a   is an abomination in the sight of  , and an offense to the godly of all peoples, it is not therefore to be treated with disrespect. For a human body is a sacred chalice, whether it be filled with the divine liquor of a mortal soul, or the profane offal of an unholy essence.

To that end the   are charged with banishing the unholy essence while doing all that is needful to preserve the sacred chalice. And so we smite the Ra-Netu with the Seventeen Strikes, while uttering the Plea for Forgiveness.

Correct Ways of Slaying Ra-Netu

Strike Twelve: The Comely Beheading

&mdash; To feint with a high cut toward the approaching Ra-Netu 
&mdash; To step past the Ra-Netu on the opposite side while turning the blade 
&mdash; To utter the Plea for Forgiveness 
&mdash; To bring the forte of the blade down upon the Ra-Netu between the third and fourth bones of the neck, shearing through from behind 
&mdash; To utter the Humble Apology 
&mdash; To collect the severed head, lest it be misplaced in the affray, and set it near the body for later interment
Lore:Hags, Harpies, and Hagravens

So listened I to a sermon by the thrice-honorable   of the High Temple. And he did inveigh against womanhood and its inherent wickedness, citing the Tale of the Temptress  , and the bloody crimes of Queen  . "Consider  s,  , and  s," quoth he. "Are these monsters not all, each and every one, women—and therefore wicked?"

And I thought to myself, "It seems to me this is a priest who likes not women. Wherefore?"

Wherefore? And wherein, if women are wicked, does he find the virtues of men, which he infers as a corollary? Was not the Grandee  , who basely slew his thirteen wives, a man? Are not the terrible  s of the hills and the  s of the mountains always male? Consider the legendary  &mdash;is he not even excessively male? 

Was not   the God-Deceiver a male? 

So called I then upon the thrice-honorable High Priest Zuladr in his quarters and spake this to him, but he was unabashed, and called me immodest and presumptuous. "Yes, I presume," I said, "and I shall presume further." And I unveiled my features, and disrobed my form, and said, "Is this the wickedness you fear, O holy priest?"

And the priest did shake, and perspire, and reach for me with fingers avid and trembling. But I struck them aside with a laugh, and resumed my garments. And I said unto him, "Consider, O priest, that a true woman gives not her gifts to one who does not respect them."

And thus did I deliver a sermon unto the high priest.
Lore:Head of Brazzefk

was once a   alchemist of great renown. Legend holds that his search for immortality culminated in a potion designed to turn him into a living giant of stone, free from the failings of flesh. The potion worked all too well, turning his entire body into a statue, immortal but immobile.

Is this the head of Brazzefk? And is he aware of his surroundings? We can but speculate.
Online:Patch

In order to continue playing the Elder Scrolls Online you will have to have the latest patch, which is usually installed automatically. As an MMO, patches are applied regularly and may be ahead of this page; the official patch notes forum always has an up-to-date list. 

Patch History

 
 
 
''Note: Some major content updates are numbered separately by ZeniMax, indicated in bold under 'Notes'. Following the launch of Tamriel Unlimited, these update numbers are often used unofficially by the community to differentiate the "base-game patch" content from the named "DLC game pack" content. This list does not cover beta or PTS patch history.''

PC/Mac Patches


PS4 Patches


PS5 Patches


Xbox One Patches


Hotfixes
Hotfixes are changes made to the game which do not require downloading a new Patch.  They can apply to all platforms, or just some of them.
 

Latest PC/Mac Version: 7.2.9
 

Latest PlayStation 4 Version: 2.18/PlayStation 5 Version: 1.00
 

Latest Xbox One Version: 1.24.3.0
Online:Nine-Prow Landing

The remnants of a small camp can be found here, with a couple of skeletons, a bedroll, some empty bottles, and even a clothesline. There is evidence of religious activity, reinforced by a pedestal with a well-kept plant, some candles, and an open book, as well as the skeletal remains of someone that seems to have died in a meditative position. A troll can be found gnawing on the bones of one skeleton at the front of the camp.

A backpack and copy of Auridon Explored, Chapter XII can be found near the bedroll. Two sacks are located at the foot of the pedestal.
 
 
 

Achievements
There is one achievement associated with this location:
Online:Battle of Cormount Memorial

Achievements
There is one achievement associated with this location: