Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Online:Zombies: Further Experiments

After weeks of failed attempts, I've finally found the means of creating autonomous  s en masse that do not require a constant effort from the  .

Unfortunately, most of these creatures are blindingly stupid and docile. They'll defend themselves when threatened, but are otherwise content to bumble about aimlessly. Luckily a few zombies per batch seem to be naturally aggressive. When this aggressive variety is placed within the docile group, it acts as a sort of guard dog, alerting the others to prey. I've not yet figured out the trick to producing this useful variety consistently, but the ones we have allow some degree of control over the entire group.

And that's enough for the  .
Online:Zurka's Orders

Cousin Zurka,

Those idiots at Mathiisen must be kept under surveillance. Right now their plans don't extend beyond Auridon, but if they do succeed in taking the island they could be trouble.

We're counting on you. Keep your claws sharp and your eyes open.

Report any new developments to this one right away.

—
Lore:Yours for the Taking!

Freeborn  ns! You are hereby called to Serve your Homeland—and in the process, serve Yourself, your Family and Heirs.

EXTRAORDINARY NEWS

Be It Known that the region south of the  , formerly known as   of  , has been re-designated the South Weald of the  , as Decreed by the Count of   and Ratified by the   of the  . The   of the  , under command of General  , has been given the Honor of Annexing the South Weald and Securing its new Borders.

OPPORTUNITIES IN THE WEST WEALD LEGION

Be It Further Known that, upon Cessation of Hostilities in the South Weald, members of the Occupying Legion will be Mustered Out and Granted Land—Farms for Soldiers, Estates for Officers. Previous Ownership of all said Lands has been declared Null and Void by the Elder Council. Current Squatters will be Deported or Indentured and put to Useful Labor on behalf of the New Owners.

GLORY, ADVENTURE, AND PRIZE MONEY

Serve in the South Weald and earn the Plaudits of a Grateful Colovia! Consider also that after Previous Conflicts, many freeborn Colovians were able to enter the Lower Nobility by virtue of the Copious Ransoms elicited from the Families of Important Prisoners. This may be the Best Chance for Advancement in this generation—don't miss out due to Fretting, Timidity, or Trivial Entanglements.
Lore:You Are What You Eat

They call me insane! That's because they're short-sighted and afraid to grasp true power when it is offered freely. In the depths of the earth, beneath the simple structures of our village, I discovered a place of power and knowledge. It's a place where spirits whisper, waiting for someone to hear them.

I heard their call. I listened to their holy words over and over and over again. "You are what you eat," they whispered to me. "You are what you eat, you are what you eat, you are what you eat."

They never stopped. They never gave me a moment to clear my head. It was enough to drive me ins—

No, not that word. Never that word. I am not a madman!

After they prepared me and opened my mind, the spirits taught me a ritual. A recipe, if you like. It's a way to take the power and strength of my enemies and make them my own. But why settle for the mortal power of  s when there are so many better choices available?

  flesh was my first thought, but capturing and killing such a creature proved more difficult than I imagined. First, there aren't many Daedra wandering around the village, just waiting to jump into my soup pot.

So I looked around, and then I saw it. A solitary creature was roaming the plains beyond the village. A  ! What better meal could grant power and glory? What would be better than the succulent flesh of a giant?

The spirits tell me that the flesh is most potent when consumed raw, right off the bone. There are words to say and ceremonial gestures to make, preparing me for the transfer of power. When this power infuses me, nothing can stop me! Not even death. As long as my head remains attached to my body, I shall return!

Here is what the spirits taught me. Here is the secret to becoming what you eat. Here is the chant:

TYO UAR EWHA TYO UEA TYO UAR EWHA TYO UEA TYO UAR EWHA TYO UEA
Lore:Xil-Go's Spell

Our settlement at   was once prosperous; it was green and unfurling, a haven under sun and branch. We lived deep enough within the marsh that outsiders never visited, and the threat of slavers from   of   seemed distant. We believed slaver attacks only happened to other  . Even if they did come for us, our sentries had bright eyes and quick arrows; they laughed at the thought of   splashing towards our home.

We underestimated the greed and cunning of House Dres. They came in the darkest coils of night, their hateful Elven  s shielding them from our watchers. They  , light as motes on a breeze even in their   plate, silent as the pools they crossed. Fiery arrows scattered us while Dunmeri magic lulled villagers to sleep, and comatose bodies were dragged off under covering fire. Though we attempted pursuit, many of our warriors were sapped by heavy magic that pulled their feet under the mud.

We debated what to do as dawn crept over our homes, withered and wounded by the Elves' attack. Voices called for us to flee, but  's voice rang out above the others. "No! We shall not let these dryskin plunderers take us or our village. We cannot. Please allow me just one day, and I will find a way to turn them away for good." We were eager to defend our village, and Xil-Go knew something of the ways of magic and mysteries, and so we all agreed to her request.

She disappeared into her hut and stayed inside throughout the day, not even pausing to eat. The villagers grew restless as the sun dipped low. Finally she emerged. "I know what we must do. Any of you who can work even the faintest magic, come with me. If you can shoot a bow, arm yourself with arrows and these poisons I have made. We will need your protection when they return."

The village waited. When the next attack came, we were ready. Expecting us to be easy prey again, they came exactly the same way—walking upon the water and making no sounds. They did not expect the  s, which exploded in bright blasts of light, giving the signal for our archers to shoot and for Xil-Go and the others to begin their spell. The slavers recovered from their shock quickly and charged forward, still a formidable and well-armed force.

Then it started. You could see the uncertainty in their pinched faces as the spell began to blossom. Next came the howls of pain, the smell of ashen flesh sizzling as the armor grew hotter and hotter. The Elves scrambled to protect themselves, trying to rip off the heavy plates or cool them down with their own magics, but it was too late for them to recover. Our warriors fell on the intruders, and not one Elf escaped.

We spread word of our victory, sending the tale far and wide through the villages, knowing the story would take root in our enemies' ears. To this day, I hear the slavers are reluctant to wear heavy armors into raids. Most wear much lighter armor now, even if it does make them easier targets for our archers. And that is fine with us.
Lore:Xarxes (book)

"I am to be married," she said aloud. " , is this what I want? Or just what I must do?"

He rose from her book in silence, measuring her worth.

"Marriage joins two as one," he said. He wrote in the dirt with a dark oak staff, creating a river.

"This is one," Xarxes said. He wrote again. The terrain changed, splitting the river in two as it flowed over a newly-formed cliff. He stepped to its edge and beckoned to her.

"Two become one," he said softly in her ear, pointing over the edge at the twin falls joining together in a pool below.

"Should I marry then?"

"One can travel quite far alone, or together. Which do you prefer?"
Lore:Quotes from the Greats

Ah, the arena. The clanging of armor, the thrill of victory, the mud and sweat and sting of defeat. And, of course, the beautiful clink of gold coins. Nothing in the whole of   competes. I do fancy myself something of a connoisseur when it comes to this most noble sport, and I've developed favorites over the years. Favorite champions, yes, and favorite fighting styles, too. No warrior impresses me more than the one who charges into the battle with a weapon in each hand—sure in their skills, coordinated beyond belief, and unafraid of the enemy's attacks. None better represent the true spirit of the arena.

As a frequent attendee and bettor of large sums, I've had the privilege of meeting many of my favored champions, and I've collected their quotes on this most illustrious fighting style. I wish to share them with the world that others might be inspired to take up two weapons and charge to their destinies, and hopefully into my local arena!

"Most people only train with a weapon in one hand or use two-handers. To train yourself to fight with two weapons, you have to focus on your off-hand. Force yourself to practice and spar with it alone for a while so you can catch it up. It takes a long time to learn, and it's easy to give up because that arm will start out so weak, but if you keep it up, you'll be whirling around the pit in no time!" — 

"  was a juggler before she came to the arena. Already knew how to handle many daggers. Better money here, so   stays." —Milira

"It's all about speed. Two light weapons and quick feet. You need more than just fast attacks; you need to be able to predict your opponent's moves, show up where he least expects you, run circles around him, and call him names. If you can frustrate your challenger, you gain an even better advantage." —"Heartstriker"  

"Growing up, I had twin sisters. Little brats! They were constantly pestering me, trying to 'pretty up' my hair or drag me off to play tea party! I had to learn how to keep both at bay early on, and, you know, I guess that's where it all started. When I got into training, it just felt normal to have a weapon in each hand. So, uh, start early, I guess." — 

"Well, you don't have a shield, but you can learn to parry and even sort of block with two weapons. It's the best style for disarming the other guy, that's for sure. That's why I like it. Send his weapon flying and then what, right?" — 

"Well, it's something I certainly have a lot to say about—so much so that I've written a book! You can find a copy at most of the local booksellers; ask for 'Fighting to Survive and Surviving to Fight: the Definitive Guide to Two-Weapon Combat'! Tell 'em I sent ya for a discount!" —
Lore:Wyresses: The Name-Daughters

In Elden time, Elven time,   did come 
A-naming of creatures where'er he did run


As all was chaotic, and names were unknown, 
His gift was a name for each  ,  , and stone.


Then all knew their places except   and   
Who plundered and ravaged wherever they were.


"I name you the  ," Jephre decreed, 
"Lords of the forest, rock, root, and seed.


This heritage nurture, henceforth be its guards 
And designate worthies to act as its wards."


Thereafter did   watch o'er  , 
From tundra to forest, from peak to ravine,


Reminding all creatures, be it tiger or worm, 
Of their name and their nature, their function and form.


Would-be corrupters who'd canker the Green 
Shall face wyress warding wherever they're seen.


So tread woods with caution, respect Jephre's way, 
Lest Wyrd women watching abduct you away.
Lore:Wuunding and Tumult

The following are two tales of the   hero   and his hammer,  . Every town I come across seems to have another legend about him, and every Nord I've met swears up and down that they're all true. Their fascination with these exaggerated heroes is charming, in a way, and I've found it an entertaining diversion to set some of the tales to paper, as I've never seen them preserved elsewhere.

Wuunding and the Mountain

Mighty Wuunding desired to pass into the high mountains, for he had heard rumors of a powerful   lord he wished to fight. The slopes were steep and the snow was thick, and he found it harder and harder to plow his way through. At last, he had enough of digging and struggling. He shouted at the mountain as loud as he could, asking it to shed its snow, but the mountain was stubborn and would not listen.

Frustrated, he cleared the snow from a rock and used Tumult to strike it with all his might. The mountain rumbled with pain, and all the snow rushed past him into the valley so that he could pass. The mountains remember that pain to this day, so you must be careful when shouting at them. Not all can stand against an avalanche.

The Melting of the March

In the old days, a great frozen   made its home in  , slaughtering Nords and conjuring an unending blizzard. Like any good Nord, Wuunding hated Daedra, and he sought to free the land and return it to its people. When he tried to venture into the heart of the storm, he found that his body began to freeze, and he was forced to turn back.

As he wandered the edge of the storm, he prayed to   for help. Before long, he came upon a shack where an old woman lived. She invited him in, and upon hearing his tale, she produced a small flask. "This will help you reach the Daedra," she said, "but do not drink too much at once." The  , the sweetest he ever tasted, burned in his belly, and he set off right away, immune to the magical blizzard.

When he found the Daedra at last, they battled all across the land. The magical cold was like nothing he'd faced before, and he felt his strength failing. Without regard to the woman's warning, he downed the whole flask. He burned with a fire so powerful that Tumult roared with flames. The Daedra melted more and more with each strike, leaving steaming pools behind. In the end, nothing was left of the Daedra but the stinking puddles, and Wuunding and Tumult were consumed by the flames. The pools remain even now, a reminder of Wuunding's heroism.
Lore:Worship in Fanacas

There is fear, as in every venture into the unknown. But the others will follow my lead, I do not doubt it. I need only show a confident face to the rest, no matter what qualms I feel inside. They will follow; they always do.

  excites me like no other   ruin I've seen. A vast, evil presence saturates the air, exuded from the ground and structures all over the site. Great offerings, of blood and souls, must have been made here once, for their auras to be felt even now.

What would I not give to have been here then, back during the glory years of the Ayleids! How I would have reveled in the sounds, sounds, and smells of the sacrifices. Longing for those golden days sustained me through the years of study it took to reach this point, trembling on the precipice of greatness.

Tonight, when   and   align, we enact the final ritual.

Tonight, we cast open the pathway to the glorious ancient Ayleids, beseeching their aid in our transformations, that we may better worship them.

Tonight, we become one with the immortals.

Tonight, the name of   will at long last inspire fear and awe across all of  !
Lore:Worm Saga

Mage from infancy, blood-selected for  ka, descended from isles of   forever! Destined was I from long before birth to exceed all mortals.


 ? Nay,  : scion of   by direct descent, summoned to  , and there was I sent: to  , to tutor, to test and ferment.


No magicka handler Iachesis Ritemaster, sage of the  , gentle spellcaster! To warp not the wind, unlike guild of the latter day, courting disaster.


 , death art, chose me stern and fast. To change not the present, but call up the past, obverse of Elder Way, forbidden without cause, deep-delved in death's way, against Gray Cloak laws.


Ill-timed then arrived one,   by name: ambitious, obstreperous, blind and deaf to shame, talented, reckless, thought himself my equal, his arrogance and envy determined our sequel.


Magic he practiced: open, raw power, flouted the Elder Way, endangered the tower, then with lowborn cunning cast me as the villain, engineered exile, made me  an.


All undervalued my will and resolution, my knowledge formidable, my wit and acumen. Thus found I new allies to study the death-rites, the sacrifice rituals, the summons of ghost-wights.


Robed all in black goes the  , bringing wisdom to seekers who see beyond death-term, but Trechtus-now-Vanus pursues us to continent, to persecute worm-wrights his evil intent.


Come, all necrotics, defend practice and life, against Mages who wield magicka like a knife, heedless of heresy and ignorant of Elder Way, hating necromancy yet heralding doomsday.


Child of   ponder, which would you choose: tyranny of mages, restricting spell use, or necromancy, communion with thy dead, ancestors returned, generations reunited?
Lore:Words of the Masters

Foreword by one who has as much to learn now as she did when she was a student long ago.

''Long have our masters taught the ways of the sword at  . And yet, not every lesson took place in the field of battle.

Recall, then, the words of the masters who once led our illustrious school. Distill their meaning, for battles can be won by the mind as well as the blade.

Pay heed!

— Master  ''



The sharpest blade is often the tongue.

Difficult tasks are best done first, before the day's dust rises.

Your soldiers are your allies, brothers, and sisters. Care for them, and they will guard you as well.

One whose character is mean-spirited will rouse others to animosity.

Be modest in speech, and you will excel in action.

Do you see what is right and just? Do what you must to uphold them both.

Watch your opponent's feet and you will lose. Watch her eyes, and see her intent.

Learn from every victory. Think how you would have reacted as the loser. Understand why your opponent lost, and you will ever be victorious.

From silence comes strength.

The serpent only sees eye-to-eye with whatever else crawls on its belly.

Stay your hand until you are sure of your opponent's tactics, and you may not live long enough to strike. Wait only to learn his intention, then strike first if it is clear he would fight without honor.

Never save for tomorrow the bread you should eat today.
Lore:Woodhearth: A Pocket Guide

Since the disappearance of  , there is no city that completely expresses the character and history of the   more than  .

Situated on the southwestern shores of Valenwood, Woodhearth had humble beginnings as an   settlement, constructed and maintained by the Emperors in order to facilitate trade with  's Wood Elf settlements.

The Wood Elves of the region reacted with a mix of curiosity, friendship, and hostility to the city, which was part thriving port town and part fortress, protecting against the wilds of Valenwood.

Several times, hostile Bosmer led assaults against the city's walls. Several times, they managed to bring down sections of the wall with concentrated bursts of powerful    s, only to be driven back by the tenacity of the Imperial forces and their superior equipment.

A peace was eventually struck with the   Bosmer of Valenwood, and in time a Bosmer settlement sprang up and even overtook the Imperial buildings, as that special connection the Wood Elves have with their forest was invoked to create the treehomes and walkways that are characteristic of Bosmer settlement.

As the Bosmer became an instrumental force in the  , control of Woodhearth was gradually ceded back to autonomous Wood Elf rule. A treethane was established in Woodhearth, and while the parts of the city that had been constructed by the Imperials fell into disrepair, the city as a whole thrived.

Within a generation, the treethanes of Woodhearth gained a reputation for determined leadership and fair judgment, among both the Wood Elves and their allies.

At the time of writing, the Treethane of Woodhearth is  , and she governs both as Treethane and as a member of the  , under Queen   of the newly-formed  . Woodhearth continues to be a major port, along with  , in Valenwood, and it is home to members of all races.
Lore:Wood Elf Etiquette: An Imperial Perspective

The   now extends its reach into the Kingdom of  . Do not be surprised if during your travels you run into the   of the forest. The   are surprisingly social, and can be very friendly with outsiders, but you must be aware of their peculiar culture and customs so as not to provoke them to anger.

The Wood Elves follow a strict religion called the  . Any Wood Elf who willingly takes up this pact is prohibited to harm any tree or plant in Valenwood. This includes chopping down trees, harvesting fruit, or digging vegetables from the ground.

As a result of this, Wood Elves who follow the Green Pact eat a strict diet of meat and cheeses. This very specific restriction in what they eat leads to certain physical reactions which you may not typically encounter in public, or with such frequency. If a Wood Elf makes mention of "feeding the fire," simply grow accustomed to breathing through your mouth for the count of twenty heartbeats.

While few Wood Elves will think badly of you for picking a flower or tapping a tree for sap, some will see this as an act of disrespect. Strictest adherents to the Green Pact may react quite strongly, perhaps violently.

This is not meant to alarm you! Remember to treat the forests of Valenwood with respect. If you are uncertain, speak with the nearest Wood Elf "treethane" for guidance. You never know who is watching.
Lore:Witch Cults of Northern High Rock

One of the dozen or so known   covens scattered across  , the   is of especial interest to   researchers. The Beldama are found within the thick forests of central  , which are problematic to the explorer due to the broken terrain and heavy vegetation. Precious few have encountered the Beldama  es (another name for a group of ward-sisters, or witches), but those who have speak of dark encampments under the canopy of ancient oak trees and cavorting rituals to honor  , an aspect of  , the most venerated god of the  i deities.

The all-female Beldama Wyrd trace their origin to the time Y'ffre transformed himself into the first   (or "Earth Bones") and established the laws of nature. While this is obviously mere myth, the Beldama Wyrd all fiercely believe they are descendants of the Ehlnofey. It is uncertain whether the Wyresses should be considered beneficial or malefic, but all agree they are uncanny and forceful: They see themselves as wardens of the forests with an unwavering reverence for nature. Most  s consider them dangerous witches, to be placated rather than revered. It is no wonder, then, that the Beldama Wyrd dwells in the least populated region of  .

The Beldama tend to congregate around a mysterious and reputedly gigantic  , which glows with an unnatural light and looks unlike any other tree in the northern forests of Tamriel. Should the   consider an invasion, threats of deforestation might be a way to cow the local population, although the Beldama Wyrd may have unknown magic capable of forestalling incursions.
Lore:Whitebear

was the founder of the first organized gladiator clan, the  , a group comprised mainly of  s. Since its founding, other renowned gladiators began to form their own clans, and thus the tradition of competing in organized groups was born. Curiously, despite the fact that they train, sleep, and live together, when clan members face one another in the arena, they will often fight harder, and offer no quarter to their fellow clansmen. For this is the sacred tradition of the gladiators of the  .

Usurped:  

Defeated By: