Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Lore:The Crystal of the Tower

The   rises over northern  , standing as a beacon and a symbol of everything the   hold dear. Also known as the Crystal-Like-Law, the tower, contrary to the beliefs of those who live beyond our cherished borders, is not made of crystal. No, the tower is named for the crystal that resides at the utmost level,  .

Transparent Law lends power and energy to the Crystal Tower, which allows the mystical structure to offer its protections to all of Summerset. The energy radiates from the tower, spreading across the land like an invisible awning to keep the island safe and secure.

Now, these protections are ancient and were set in place long ago when the crystal was imbedded within the tower by the   who erected it. In truth, for all our knowledge, the Sapiarchs do not fully understand the exact workings of the tower or the crystal. We know that the Aldmer constructed the Crystal Tower to preserve the graves of the early Aldmeri settlers and forever remember the spirit of the Elven people and mark that brief moment in history when we were fully unified.

As for the significance of Transparent Law, I should think that to be self evident. One only has to break down the meaning of the name and all becomes clear. To be transparent is to be easily recognized or detected, to be made manifest, to be open, obvious, and candid. Law, meanwhile, refers to the principles and regulations that govern some specific portion of reality. In this case, the crystal manifests the clear and unequivocal fundamental principles of our Aldmer heritage. Indeed, we suspect that the crystal may even be a fragment of divinity given physical substance.

Obviously, theories concerning the Transparent Law and its significance to the Crystal Tower abound within the  . I like to believe that the crystal absorbs the drive for perfection that marks the Altmer and reflects it back, driving away any imperfections that would weaken or endanger the island. Not everyone agrees with me, but I see a correlation between the pride and admiration our people feel for the Crystal Tower and the feeling of security and safety that it, in turn, projects across the land. It is a symbiotic relationship.

Or, it could just be ancient Aldmer magic. Who can really say?
Lore:The Divine Prosecution

I have traveled far and wide as a member of the  . I visited all of the lands associated with my beloved  , including   and  . I explored  , the land of the  s. But the place that has made my head hurt most of all is the island of the snooty  ,  . Even   dislikes the smug, pointy-eared milk-drinkers, and he likes everybody!   knows I endeavor to be nice and struggle not to hit a few of them with my axe, no matter how much they test my patience.

My first task upon arriving in this land that smells of salt water and pretension was to gather whatever information I could concerning law and order. Even though we arrived under a banner of peace and diplomacy, we are still  s. While I can't determine if the High Elves dislike us because of our association with the Pact or because we don't look like they do, I must make sure that the members of our delegation don't inadvertently break a rule and cause an international incident. The island has more than its share of guards and town constables, but the real power seems to lie in the oddly named  .

The Divine Prosecution consists of duly authorized agents loyal to Queen   and her  , the paramilitary enforcers of the  . On Summerset, the Divine Prosecution represents law and order, responsible for enforcing both secular and religious law. They seem to be similar to the   of the  , but without all the creepy face masks and fancy armor. I was able to interview one of their number, a somber but otherwise accommodating justiciar named  . 

Justiciar Rullion explained that the primary function of the Divine Prosecution was to act as investigators of crimes and minor offenses, and adjudicators of disputes and legal disagreements. I got the sense that they had a much broader mandate than he let on, serving as not only secular lawkeepers but as the protectors of religious and social mores. When I pressed, he admitted that he and his fellow justiciars were called in when situations developed beyond the skills of the local constabulary. "We go where our investigations take us," he added before leaving me to my mid-day meal of rabbit meatballs and a few bottles of mead.

As I wandered around the city of   I noticed that Rullion seemed to be going about the business of the Divine Prosecution while remaining always in my field of vision. I watched him settle an argument between a merchant and her customer, hearing both sides before rendering a binding decision that each accepted before he moved on. Then he apprehended a pickpocket in the act of stealing a noble's purse and handed the criminal to one of the city guards. Through it all, I had the feeling that all the while he was actually keeping an eye on me. I suppose observing foreign visitors also falls under the purview of the agents of the Divine Prosecution. I didn't really mind. Besides, his constant presence would make it easier to find him at supper time.

I wonder if Justiciar Rullion has a taste for mead?
Legends:Solo Arena/The Iron Atronach

As one of the featured matches, The Iron Atronach begins the match with a unique scenario, intro, and announcement:
Lore:The False Revanchism of the Maormer

The ages old conflict between   and   has raged so continuously, and so long, that it is easy to come under the impression that it is a complicated struggle. Built, layer upon layer, century upon century, of two-sided wrongs and reprisals. This is a fallacy of the most harmful order. It grants a hint of legitimacy to deprivations that deserve none. The Maormer have never held claim over the  , and gods willing, they never shall.

I fear the fallibility we have developed in our fall from Aldmeri grace has led to the common misconception that we are close siblings to those who dwell in  , but the truth of the matter is that we are far distant cousins with only a shred of common ancestry. This welcome revelation comes from previously untranslated Aldmeri tapestries within the Crystal Tower. The unmitigated truth revealed at last, after painstaking study, speaks not of a common plight of reluctant migration and tragic diaspora, but a tale of treachery and exile.

The blood the Maormer spill has always been in the name of greed and hungry ambition. Their corrupt "king,"  , thought to usurp our ancient homeland of   from its rightful rulers, just as he seeks to steal Summerset from us. The Maormer are a despicable people who do not deserve the guilt of conscience some have afforded them for too long. Any debate on the matter is closed, the Maormer apologists are silenced, and the prosecution of war against the Pyandoneans should be carried out without remorse.
Online:Degethel

Degethel is a Wood Elf servant who can be found at Cey-Tarn Keep. She has no unique dialogue.
Online:Quartermaster Mormalion

Quartermaster Mormalion is a High Elf merchant who runs the Keep Stockhouse at Cey-Tarn Keep.
 
Dialogue
Before the mystery of the murders is solved, he is reluctant to sell you any weapons.
:"I have no armaments for strangers. You may purchase rations and sundries, however."

:"Have to keep a close watch on the weaponry these days. The last thing we need is a killer snatching them up."

After the mystery is solved:
:" "

:" "
Online:Gag

Gag is an Orc servant found at Cey-Tarn Keep. He can be found mucking out the stables and wandering the area.
 

Dialogue
Before the investigation is complete, he is frustrated with the way the Altmer stationed at the garrison are treating him.
:"Quit bothering me you damn yell—oh. Sorry. What do you want?"

:''"For the last time, we don't eat people! Sorry, thought you were another flat-tooth here to give me guff about these killings."
:You seem awful touchy.
:"I got enough dung heaped on me from these damn High Elves before the bodies started piling up. Now they're eying me like some damned rabid dog and badgering me with a bunch of ignorant chuff. How about you let me get back to my business now, yeah?"

After the investigation:
:"Killer's gone, so back to the usual sneers, I guess."

:"Glad that's over with. If one more of these tuskless sots looked at me sideways, I really would have been guilty of murder."''
Online:Lieutenant Naritalmo

Lieutenant Naritalmo is a High Elf soldier found at Cey-Tarn Keep.
Online:Soldier Undwyalie

thumb|right|Old look
Soldier Undwyalie is a High Elf soldier who can be found at Cey-Tarn Keep. You can find her in the grounds in front of the barracks and Refectory, inspecting the ballistae.
 
  
Dialogue
She's quite high-strung.
:''"You want a piece of me? No? Well, good. I'm not going to let anything get the drop on me before this is over."

:"Ah! You're lucky I didn't take a swing at you! Don't you know there's something abducting people around here? Move on. And don't do that again!"

After the investigation:
:""I can finally make my rounds without constantly looking over my shoulder."

:"I never realized how tough being on edge is on your neck. Give me a siege over a Daedric killer any day."''
Notes
She used to carry a greatsword. Now, she has a shield, but aside from that, her appearance remains relatively unchanged.
Online:Soldier Corerine

Soldier Corerine is a High Elf soldier who can be found in the Refectory at Cey-Tarn Keep. She has no unique dialogue.
Online:Netalcar

Netalcar is a High Elf chef who can be found at Cey-Tarn Keep. You'll find him in the main floor of the refectory in the kitchen area sharpening his blades. He has no unique dialogue.
Online:Soldier Marinmar

Soldier Marinmar is a High Elf soldier who can be found in the Refectory at Cey-Tarn Keep. He has no unique dialogue.
Online:Wadaril

Wadaril is a Khajiit servant found in the barracks at Cey-Tarn Keep. You can find him on the second floor cleaning and tending to the cutlery.
 

Dialogue
Before the investigation is complete:
:''"Is it strange that this one finds it much less like he's being watched while there is a killer about? Wadaril has not been bothered about missing silverware for many moons."

:"This one has not had to clean up after one of these killings, for which he is grateful. Though he has heard there is not much to clean up, so perhaps not."

After the investigation:
:"This one is afraid he cannot talk. The Elven eyes are back upon his every move"

:"This one had enjoyed being viewed without suspicion, even for so brief a time."''
Lore:The Flight of Gryphons

Since the   first looked up at the sky and saw the majestic   soaring on the breeze, there have been dreams to tame the creatures, to ride upon them in times of battle or joy, and feel the freedom of seeing the world far below.

But these were the dreams of children, who quickly learned that the gryphon is proud and fierce, and will not serve as mount to any lesser creature. Generations tried, but the gryphon would never succumb. 

The foolish thought to net the creatures in the wild, to break them like a common  . The gryphon spared future generations from their stupidity. More clever tribes of Altmer managed to scale the cliffs and crags of the isle, taking eggs from the nests of absent parents. Alas, these gambits for years offered no flying mounts, for the eggs would never hatch. Some small comfort was found in the great feasts that followed, for these eggs were held to be delicacies for kings.

One small clan, in the isle's south, would stand up to the untamed splendor of the gryphon and assert itself.  , whose line would go on to become the Kinlords of  , found an egg in an abandoned nest during a hunt. Thinking it would never hatch, he brought the egg to his tribe, and prepared it for feast by setting it within the flames of his mighty hearth. Singing the ancient songs of hearth and family, Ulorome sought to bless the meal before his clan would feast—but lo! The warmth of the hearth and the gentle singing brought life to the cold egg, and from it burst a fledgling gryphon. So red did its feathers look in the firelight, that it was thought to be a   by some. Ulorome, crying out in thanks to the gods for such a gift, wrested the creature from the burning embers and christened it  .

The legends do not say if Cel-hinwe ever carried his master into battle, but it is known that this creature, the Red Wind of   legend, would become the progenitor of Sunhold's famed gryphon line. These two lines are woven around one another, the kinlords and their gryphons, to the point where one cannot be said to exist without the other. The gryphons have in turn been adopted as the heart of Sunhold, its burning symbol of defiance.
Online:Lieutenant Cerulye

Lieutenant Cerulye is a High Elf soldier found in the barracks at Cey-Tarn Keep. He has no unique dialogue.
Online:Adjutant Caurtil

Adjutant Caurtil is a High Elf scholar who can be found at Cey-Tarn Keep. You'll find him up on the top floor with Captain Rinwinne making notes in his ledger.
 
  
Dialogue
Before the investigation is complete:
:''"The Captain isn't to be disturbed. She has many duty rosters to update thanks to the, um, staffing difficulties."

:"Please don't bother the Captain. Battlereeve Erriisse has been very demanding of her since all the trouble started."

After the investigation:
:"I'm afraid the Captain is unavailable. She has been tasked with composing a formal request to the Proxy Queen on behalf of Battlereeve Erriisse. She's a bit more … tactful."

:"Please give the Captain some space. She has to organize a search of the premises. Something about secret floors or some such. It's very important, I'm sure."''
Online:Teraniel

Teraniel is a High Elf responsible for the murders at Cey-Tarn Keep. She is encountered in The Gorge where she holds Silurie and Justiciar Hyircil hostage.

She is the recipient of the letter Show Us Your Worth.
 

Related Quests


Quest-Related Events
You'll come across Hyircil confronting someone from across the balcony. 
:''"Wait your turn, morsel. You'll meet the Insatiable soon enough."''
Teraniel will throw him off the edge.

Taunts
When you enter the Gorge, she'll begin to shout:
:''"You live? This won't do! This won't do!"

:"You! Again! How did you reach this place?"

:"I won't let you ruin my big moment. I won't!"

:"I'll feed your corpse to the Insatiable!"''
Lore:The Ghost of the Green

We children of the sap recognize many great heroes: Elthonor the Barkborn, the Many-Tales Wolf, Fildunor Boughbrow, and others. But no hero, living or dead, rivals the glory of  's avenger, the Ghost of the Green.

Unlike the shiny, boastful heroes of men and mer,   stalks through the forests of history quietly—only occasionally drawing back his mighty bowstring to smite the enemies of  . His spirit is timeless but his patience is thin. When our people call upon him with sacrifices of   hearts and   tusks, a righteous execution follows soon after.

You will know him by his green leathers, his frightful skull, and the tokens he leaves behind: a fern frond, a razor-sharp arrow of   make, and the corpse of one who would assault our people.  Once he is summoned, no one can escape his wrath. On the day of smoke and summoning, the sacred deer must die. On the day of the Ghost's fury, our enemy must die. Death is inevitable. Such is the way of things in  's domain.
Lore:The Gorge (book)

There is a divide between the realms of   and   where need and hunger are one. A thin, vestigial place clinging to the skin of  , gnawing in futility to break through. This is the Gorge. A pit of famine and desperation where brutal   spend eternity devouring anything they can, even each other, to feed a boundless hunger that will never be satiated.

Pinnacle among these wretched creatures is  , a   of great cunning and power. Once summoned into the material world, this Daedra will tirelessly feast on life, using the essence it devours to slip freely between the Gorge and   and ambush its next meal.

With the proper preparation, a sorcerer can similarly move between these realms. If you are prepared to face the dangers of the Gorge, it will prove to be an invaluable means of passing undetected by the mortal world.

At a place where the barrier between Nirn and Oblivion is thinnest, bind an anchor to the material world by offering the Gorge the things it craves the most. The aspects of your own vital essence: Anima, Ego, Incalescence, and Mortality. Prepare braziers to channel these sacrifices and alight them in the proper order.

When complete the anchor will become caught in the throat of the Gorge, leaving its maw forever open to you. Should you desire to move your anchor, you must snuff the sigils of your offerings in the order they were cast. This will return the anchor to the material world, allowing you to employ its power elsewhere.
Lore:The Insatiable

are creatures of purpose. They embody a need to be fulfilled. Why? Only the Princes know for certain, but to those who would wield these beings' power as their own, understanding their purpose is paramount. One does not conjure a   to aid in ritual matters or a   to slay a  .

It is no different with the creature known as the Insatiable. One does not call upon an embodiment of ceaseless hunger without understanding that its purpose is to consume. It has no other. Once unleashed it will obey no command and offer no council, its only desire is to stalk and devour the living. It will snatch away prey to its den and savor their innards in an excruciatingly slow feast through which its victims survive far longer than anyone would imagine. Some believe it enjoys the taste of fear, as it tends to leave the remains of its victims among the herd, leaving little doubt that there is a predator among them.

If your desire is to see a place stripped of life and wracked by terror, knowing that there can be no appeasing the monster once it has been given flesh, this is the offering you must make:

-Lay out the corpse of a Man or Mer who succumbed to starvation. 
-Cut out its tongue and place it back in the mouth facing the gullet. 
-Wash the tongue down its throat with the blood of a fattened mortal. It may take some doing. 
-Burn tallow candles around the prepared corpse, at least a half dozen. 
-When the last flame has guttered out the tongue will slither out from the corpse and nest in the melted fat. 
-In three days time, the Insatiable will sprout from this bloated cocoon and begin its terrible work. Linger at your own peril.
Lore:The King of Vipers, Canto 17

:The sea before the serpent-prow did break.
:The wind was trapped inside the black-cloth sails.
:The pounding drum did mask the rower's wails,
:And demons of the sea swam in the wake.

:A dark rain fell as though a widow's veil,
:Along with lightning-flash and thunder-peal,
:  the butcher grasped his vessel's wheel
:The villain of a thousand fractured tales.

:He did not spare his blade from those who kneel,
:Or from the young, the weak, the sick, the old.
:The cruelty in his heart was often told,
:And those that faced his blade would never heal.

:The target of the grim fleet was  . 
:An   prize long sought by  -king—
:The golden port once graced with   wing,
:A victory that would not go untold.

:Viscarne sailed in, so our ancestors sing.
:But found a harbor empty now, and still.
:No ships to burn, no innocents to kill.
:No one to feel the serpent's bitter sting.

:Then from the palace sitting on the hill,
:An army dressed in gold came riding forth.
:A crushing wave of Altmer from the north,
:To bring the sun's warmth to the   chill.

:They killed Viscarne's second, third, and fourth,
:The butcher's ships were burning in the bay.
:The Maormer knew that he had lost the day,
:His forces fallen having shown their lack of worth.
Lore:The Language of Ebon Stadmont

My research has led me to seek out  , a forest of much rumor and speculation, but little known fact. Specifically, my curiosity lies within the mysterious language found throughout the forest, inscriptions etched within decayed ruins. This language is unknown, unstudied, and largely unquestioned. I suspect this has much to do with the hazards the forest possesses, rather than an inability to properly research said language.

The forest twists, in a way. Moves as you walk through it. You'll see your destination, just over the foliage. Walk through one of the many archways, only to find yourself in a completely new location than the one you set out. It's some sort of teleportation magic at work, I suspect, though so seamless one can hardly notice as it happens. 

The foliage is dense, bringing to mind a hedge maze more than a proper woods. It's obvious that someone, or something, designed this forest to be sectioned off. For the explicit purpose, I believe, of keeping outsiders out. What connection these protective measures have with the language I plan to study, I'm unsure. But perhaps, through my research, I can discover the answer.

  
My initial findings within Ebon Stadmont have been, as I've feared, inconclusive. I had once believed the language to be similar in form to  , but all experimentation to that end have yielded no results. Though this language may be similarly ancient, I do not believe it to have Daedric origins. And so, I fear that I begin my studies from the ground up.

The one blessing within this expedition has come from what I expected to be our biggest stumbling block; the forest itself. Have the rumors been exaggerated? All of our incidents with the forests twisting nature have been both few in number and minor inconveniences, at best. I've lost none of my troupe, as I once feared I may, though I've ordered them to stick close together.

I feel a sense of acceptance. As if the forest has judged as worthy of uncovering its mysteries. Or perhaps the magical protections here have waned over time. Whatever the case, I don't plan to allow this good fortune to go to waste. Set backs are no, I am determined to research this language.

  
Finally, the mysteries of this language begin to unfold. I was looking at it all wrong, that was my problem. I only saw a language, consisting of mere symbols. Something to be researched and translated. But these words have power. I see that now.

Within these inscriptions contain an untapped source of magical energy. But, try as I may, I cannot find a way to release it. To use it, the way I feel it so deeply wishes to be used. The kind of creative energy, full of an untold potential. But of what?

The words are alive. They speak to me sometimes, if I listen close. Words whispered in my mind. The power that has laid dormant for so long, willing itself back into existence. If only I could discover how.