Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Lore:The Peasant Princess, A Play in One Act

Narrator: Once in the heart of   there lived a young mer by the name of Virenire. Though she was quite a beauty and admired by many, her family had always been poor. And so she worked as a serving maid.

Virenire: Dearest me, how I long to be out of these rags.

Narrator: Virenire cleaned diligently and was often praised by her mistress Teryldil, but still she dreamed of a grand life full of wonder. When she heard of a coming ball in the Royal Palace, she knew she had to attend.

Virenire: Oh, a royal ball! I just know the prince will be there! But how can I go in such a dress?

Narrator: Virenire was determined. She saved and pleaded and begged, and finally was able to afford a beautiful dress. She even convinced her wealthy mistress to bring her along as an attendant.

Teryldil: Oh, you've been so diligent for so long. How could I possibly say no?

Narrator: But still, Teryldil was a smart mistress, and gave her servant a warning.

Teryldil: Now, you may come to this ball, but always remember your place Verenire. No matter how beautiful you are or how well you dress, you shall always be a servant.

Narrator: This made Virenire very sad, for she had hoped to catch the eye of a wealthy noble. But still she stayed silent, as a good servant should. The very next night mistress and servant attended the ball.

Virenire: What wondrous clothes! What delicious food! Why, if only every day was filled with such elegance, I shall be the happiest mer is  .

Narrator: So great was Virenire's beauty, she caught the eye of the young prince. Forgetting all decorum, he went over to her and asked for a dance. And so the prince and the servant girl danced for a good portion of the night.

Prince: I've never seen such a beautiful mer. Tell me, who are your parents?

Virenire: Oh, dear prince, I feel I must be honest. My parents are poor peasants, and I but a serving girl to a wealthy mistress.

Narrator: Gazing upon the beautiful eyes of such an entrancing mer, the good Prince came to a startling realization.

Prince: Why, I've been tricked! Here I thought you were a noble mer of good standing, who I might court and one day wed. But you are a mere servant girl.

Narrator: And though the words stung her heart, Virenire knew them to be true. For only a noble mer would be able to marry someone such as a prince. So Virenire resolved to find herself a suitable husband within her caste. The prince, of course, married a Kinlady of suitable reputation and never spoke to the servant girl again. And so we should all remember, no matter our looks or possessions, we shall always be beholden to our family's name.
Lore:The Psijic Order

As the Sapiarch charged with understanding and analyzing current events as they relate to the progress and well-being of  , I am often called upon to provide expert opinion of the great questions of the present age. Which brings us to the subject of this treatise. Proxy Queen   has requested the   to provide the   with everything we know about the  . Apparently, the ancient order of arcane sages has returned to offer assistance during the current crisis.

We know with absolute certainty that the Psijic Order once served as advisors and teachers to the greatest rulers of  . We also know that approximately three-hundred-and-fifty years ago, the sages retreated to their island of   to study in seclusion. Then the island, quite literally, disappeared.

What is the Psijic Order? This ancient organization originated on Summerset and formed the basis for arcane magic as we know it today. At some point in history, they occupied the island of Artaeum and made   their headquarters. So much can be attributed to the Psijic Order, including the creation of the   (by former Psijic sage  ) and the development of  . It has been claimed that Mysticism, or the Old Way, can unravel the mysteries of the universe when properly applied to the problem. It can also be used to peer into the future and may have been the basis of the advice they provided to Tamriel's leaders.

When our ancestors settled Summerset, our culture began to change. We no longer worshiped the ancestor spirits, instead elevating a few of those spirits to godhood and revering them. A group of elders at this time rebelled against this trend. They called themselves Psijics, the keepers of the Old Ways. They retreated to Artaeum to remove themselves from the corruption of Altmer society. This dislike of the new ways didn't stop them from returning to offer advice and guidance, however.

My recommendation? Accept the help offered by the Psijic Order. We could do worse than to have these masters of Mysticism at our side in these times of trouble.
Lore:The Scaled Elves

Sailors are known for their stories. Tall tales of faraway places, great beasts, vast treasures, beautiful temptresses, and storms that could end the world. Many take these claims with a healthy dose of skepticism, but not all the legends you hear are pure fantasy. Away from the relative calm of the   the sea can harbor some truly frightening things. Among them are the    .

If you've never seen a Sea Elf, they're strange, but unremarkable. Similar to   in build, their skin is the color of ocean spray and their eyes pale. Most wouldn't give them a second glance if not for their elaborate tattoos and their vicious demeanor. The ones their kind call leviathans, however, they'll make your blood run as cold as their own.

The spawn of some unholy and sorcerous coupling of Sea Elf and  , these giants stand a head and a half over the most towering of  s when they draw themselves to their full height. A rare sight since these Elves mostly carry themselves in a beastly posture, bent and arced like a snake ready to strike. When they do make their move, they don't so much stride as slither along in an uneven predatory lope—like they're unused to both land and legs.

The first time I laid eyes on one in the flesh, she was clambering up the hull of my ship like a centipede—weaving back and forth as she effortlessly glided up the slippery boards. The way the light glittered off her blue scales was almost beautiful, but her dead, white eyes were as impassive as a shark's and her grin as mirthless.

I doubled over in fright as she shot over the starboard railing. She was on me in an instant, pinning me to the deck with her great size, ready to strike me down with a killing blow, or so I thought. Instead, she regarded me with a chilling dispassion and I froze like a mouse that's locked eyes with a snake. I was both captivated and terrified. It was the popping of her jaw stretching out of place to swallow me that finally snapped me out of my shock and gave me the sense to struggle.

I was no match for the leviathan's strength, but I managed to wrest a hand free and drive it into the back of her throat. The gout of flame she choked on put an end to her perverse existence, but the mark she left on me I'll carry until the end of my days. If you should ever see the scaled Elves lurking below the waves, my prayers go with you.
Lore:The Siege of Ald Marak

During The  's wars of expansion, the   mounted countless sieges on fortresses both great and small. In most cases, merciless bombardment prompted a swift surrender. The Imperials' mastery of digging and siege works combined with the  's fire wizardry and alchemical prowess seemed unstoppable. Even so, some foes fancied themselves the Empire's equals. The false-god of the  ,  , was such a foe.

Over the course of several months,  's legions drove the Dark Elves back deep into their own territory. At length, the Elves dug in at the venerable fortress of  . It was an imposing fortress to be sure, with high, sturdy walls, and deep-water approaches that made assaults on foot nearly impossible.

The sons and daughters of the   faith consolidated their forces behind those walls, content to wait for their god's arrival. But Vivec did not arrive. On the advice of a foolish spy, he took a defensive position elsewhere, in the shadow of  . Too far away to intervene when the dark hour came.

The Imperials knew well the power of faith and fanaticism. Engaging the armies of   with their god at their back was a fool's gambit. Rather than settle in for a protracted siege, the Imperials concocted a bold plan. Under cover of nightfall, their mystics weaved great spells of water-breathing. Thus ensorcelled, the heavily armored legion marched into  . At length, they emerged from the water like vengeful ghosts, thundered through the lightly guarded gates, and burned the fort like a bundle of dry kindling. 

So you see, creativity and daring can win a siege as surely as any ram or trebuchet. Develop a fox's cunning, soldier. It will serve you well.
Lore:The Star-Eyed Bride of Alinor

Eyes of polished amber, hair swept like a comet's tail 
Soul alight with love and joy 'neath pregnant golden sails

My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
Lost in storm and spray 
My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
That cruel fate took away

White swan feathers fluttered from her ivory bridal gown 
And unsung vows slipped from her lips, eager to be found

My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
Gone beneath the waves 
My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
The sea became her grave

The clouds they gathered overhead, ripping sail from mast 
The hull creaked like a coffin's hinge as the captain yelled 'hold fast!'

My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
She never made it home 
My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
Drowned in brine and foam

The lightning crashed upon the sea, the wind howled with the swells 
I strained to reach her glistening hand, but into the depths she fell

My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
Whose last words were my name 
My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
I still weep from the shame

Upon the beach I wander still, to gaze out at the sea 
Hoping to see her shining face smiling back at me 

My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
Lost in storm and spray 
My star-eyed bride of Alinor 
That cruel fate took away
Lore:The Tale of Syrabane

(Music: Epic and Adventurous)

Gather round and hear the tale  
Of Archmage Syrabane 
Through his mercy and his might 
He stopped the Thrassian Plague

A war was the only way 
To stop the plague at hand 
So Syrabane called for aid 
All throughout the land

CHORUS 
Oh, Syrabane, oh Syrabane  
Ye mer of godly fate 
Oh Syrabane, oh Syrabane 
The youngest of the Eight

Man and Mer took up the call 
They knew they could not fail 
Together they combined their might 
The   sailed

With Bendu Olo at his side  
Slinging sword and spell 
Syrabane beat back the tide 
The   fell

CHORUS

Now good mer, remember well 
The Archmage Syrabane 
For when dark times came to pass 
He knew to ask for aid

CHORUS
Lore:The Truth of Minotaurs

By this point, you must have read the   of the now disgraced sage, Nonus Caprenius. It brings me no joy to cast aspersions on his name. Caprenius was once an eminent scholar whose mastery of beastly sciences far surpassed that of his peers. Alas, his obsession with the bull-men and their dubious origins proved too much for the community to bear. Allow me to clarify this matter and put it to rest once and for all.

Caprenius, clearly in the throes of some mania, suggests that  s are the descendants of   and her legendary consort  , the bull-man. Beyond being lightly heretical, this assertion finds no basis in historical fact. The fate of Alessia's son,   the Man-Bull, is well known&mdash;catalogued (obliquely) by countless scholars of the period. He met his fate at the biting-tips of   spears. That much is certain. Connecting the Slave-Queen to a brutish race of bull-headed savages merely because they share a physical feature makes no more sense that connecting men to  s since we both walk on two legs.

The fact is that minotaurs are the bitter fruit of some spell or alchemical process gone awry. There is no great conspiracy&mdash;no zealously guarded secret&mdash;just an unfortunate, ghastly accident. Truly, who could look at one of these bovine brutes and see the proud legacy of   stirring in their blood? These are the ravings of a disturbed mind, and should be treated as such. 

Take my advice&mdash;when you see a minotaur, don't inquire about its noble lineage. If you wish to survive the encounter, kill it or flee.
Lore:The Gryphons of the Welkynars

Now, let's get this straight.   training is no joking matter. Within the wild, these beasts are deadly. Dangerous. They'd eat you sooner than look at you. There's many trainers in   who can attest to that. Even the chicks are known to peck off a finger or two, if you're not careful.

As a  , you'll be expected to raise your gryphon from the time it hatches to the day it dies. Or you die, of course, given our line of work. This starts off by collecting an egg. Yes, you collect the egg, so don't expect to be handed one your first day. And I suggest you don't go killing the gryphon mother, either. It's hard to be bonded to a creature you've brutally orphaned. Trust me on that.

Once your chick has hatched, the bonding process can begin. You'll immediately begin to undergo magical rituals to create a bond. But other than that, your relationship must grow from familiarity. You'll feed, clean, and care for this chick. Expect a lot of pecks, scratches, and sleepless nights.

Once the bonding process has been complete, your gryphon will be trained to fight by your side. This gryphon will be your steed, protector, and steadfast friend. Their training will be just as stringent and hard as yours. And, by the end of it, the creature will become a soldier finer than most.

Now remember, this isn't a commitment to be taken lightly. The bond you form with your gryphon will be unlike anything you've experienced.  Rather than a mere companion, your gryphon shall become an extension of your very self. Your thoughts, your feelings, your needs, everything will be connected.

Should you successfully accomplish this responsibility, you'll be welcomed within the ranks of the Welkynars. An honor that will change your entire course of life. So choose your egg wisely, candidate.
Lore:The Welkynars of Eton Nir

The   are part of an order which spans nearly all of  's grand history. We dedicate our lives to protecting our homeland, to fight back against the dark tides of evil. Wherever malice rears its ugly head, wherever villains threaten our citizens, that is where we shall be.

Though   may be where we lay our heads, our order answers any urgent call. This need for quick mobility is what led the first of our order to bond with  s. With the aid of these creatures, our order is able to quickly move to far away locations. This is what led the Welkynars to choose Cloudrest as the home of our Aerie, given the city's central location within the island.

Our order numbers four, representative of each of the cardinal directions. When one member decides to retire or dies in the line of duty, another is chosen to replace them. This initiate's training will take years to complete, as they will need to first capture and raise their own gryphon companion. 

Each Welkynar is chosen for his or her combat abilities. Though our order is well known for producing some of the finest battlemages within Summerset, magical ability is not necessarily a requirement to join. After all,   is thought to be one of the greatest Welkynars to ever live, and had not one ounce of magical ability. An initiate need only prove themselves highly capable in battle to join our ranks.

Any member of either Summerset governance or military may petition the   for aid. Of course, accepting the petition has always been up to the order's discretion. Between assignments, our members continue to patrol Summerset for signs of danger, often stopping in cities and collecting information on any potential threats.

Yes, a Welkynar never truly rests. But for this lifelong dedication, we ensure the safety of every citizen of Summerset. There is truly no greater honor than joining the ranks of this prestigious order.
Morrowind:Powers

Powers are the set of  spells in The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind which may be cast only once per day and do not require the expenditure of magicka by the user. They may be acquired in three ways: as  racial bonuses, as birthsign bonuses and as quest rewards. NPCs do not cast powers in combat, however. Below is a list of all powers which may be found in the game as well as the method of obtaining them.
Power List


Unobtainable Powers


Notes
The ID for Berserk is misspelled as "orc_beserk"
Hunter's Wind costs 1 Magicka to cast, making it the only Power to cost Magicka.
Online:Furnishings/Quests/Entry

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Online:Furnishings/Quests

This page contains furnishings which are earned or can be purchased after completing certain Quests.  Specifically, these are quests that are not associated with any Achievements. Those which are can be found at Furnishings/Achievements instead.
Legends:Solo Arena/Cheydinhal Sergeant

As one of the featured matches, Cheydinhal Sergeant begins the match with a unique scenario, intro, and announcement:
Lore:Tips for a Khajiit in Summerset V. 2

This one need not tell you of   pride and vanity. We have all seen it, no? The disdain in their eyes, shining as bright as a counterfeit coin. You have heard the condescension that drips from their tongue like honeyed venom. Our tall allies think so little of us Khajiit. Time to prove them wrong, walker. Let us beat them at their own game.

If you have read my first volume of this series, you'll already have a good idea of the importance that High Elves place on their history. We know this, yes, but even this pride tends to pale next to the vanity the mer hold for their familial past. Most know the name, occupation, and supposed greatness of their ancestors dating back centuries. And they will be most keen to tell you of them, this one assures you of that.

Family is everything to the High Elves, but do not take that to be sentiment. It is chains that they bind themselves with, a title that is set in stone. Only great feats can elevate them, and so they crave each day for that moment of their apotheosis. Many choose to prove themselves through arcane feats, as magic runs strong and often within their veins. Others throw themselves within their art, hoping to paint a masterpiece of produce a melody glorious enough to rise their status.

Yes, the High Elves create great walls before themselves. Climb, they say! But the way is often hard. Never have I seen such malice as that between fellow artists here in  . I've met thieves and assassins with more curtesy towards their rivals! The mages look down upon all, but quickly grow envious of their peers' power. Even among each other, the High Elves seek to look from above.

They care not for you, walker, nor your family. To them, we have but one title.  . And thus we are lower, and thus we are useful only to be used. This we know. To elevate yourself in the eyes of a High Elf, well, it is not an easy feat. You must prove your worth, again and again. Exhausting work for even the most diligent, but still, we must try. 

Bezumi has found many High Elves to be irresistible to challenges of skill. Dangle a chance to prove themselves better, and always they will bite. We know though, the honor that a cunning win still brings. Always make sure to stock the odds within your favor, yes?

Winning a challenge against a High Elf has always proven to have ... mixed results. Some will demand a rematch, so wounded is their pride. Others will throw a most vivid tantrum and storm off, declaring you a cheat. But there will be an honorable few who shall bow their head and concede defeat. Within them will alight a small flame of respect. Let us fan those flames.

Despite this one's advice and encouragement, she knows that not every High Elf can be won over. Many have become blind and deaf to all but their own opinion. Do not let them dishearten you, walker. Do not let them win. Let them come at us with their venom, with their ignorance. We must be the ones to change, yes, but into something better. Into something greater.
Lore:The Pretension of High Elf Jewelry

It's not like   isn't important to us  , truly. There are few things more appreciated than carving the bones of a fallen enemy for your sweetheart back home. That, alongside a well cooked hunk of haunch, and you have yourself a romantic little setup right there.

But, like most things, the   take jewelry crafting to an entirely new level. They don't see it as a simple career choice. By  , they don't even consider it a mere passion. No, it is fate, a calling handed down to them. Feel free to ask one if you want to hear all about it. They would be happy to talk your ear off. Trust me.

From what I can understand, the High Elf art of jewelry crafting is generally passed down through generations. And that really does mean something to the High Elves. Taking on the legacy of their family name is not only expected, it's revered. In that way though, all of them respect each other. Even a kinlord will speak highly of a family of fishers, so long as they do their job right. You can't really say that about the rest of  .

And I have to admit, their jewelry is beautiful. You ain't never seen such well-crafted rings as those on even a common High Elf's fingers. They're downright dainty, intricate, even. Swirls and patterns that seem to intertwine, even on the tiniest scale. There's a kind of complex simplicity there. Wait, does that even make sense?

I mean to say, jewelry made by the High Elves just seems natural. Like the branches of a tree, or the swirls within a running stream. I don't know how they do it. I suppose that's the trade off of having your skills passed down through such long family lines. These High Elves aren't simply honing their skill throughout a lifetime, no. They're honing a skill throughout generations.

I'd love to learn a thing or two while I'm visiting  , but I doubt that will ever happen. Not because I haven't been able to find someone who is willing to talk with me about their craft, oh no. I just haven't found one who won't drone on and on for hours on some technique their great-great-grand uncle came up with hundreds of years ago.

That being said, I have yet to have a single mer here ask me about my own techniques. Of course, that's not too surprising. After all, I'm just a muddy little Wood Elf carving up some bone.
Lore:Jewels of Yokuda

The  s' reputation as peerless sword-wielders is well earned. But after spending some time in the stifling heat of the  , I can tell you that they skillfully cut more than just  s and grave robbers. I'm speaking, of course, about precious stones!

During my most recent visit to  , I had the opportunity to speak with a clever jeweler-historian named Berzhalan. According to him, the hills of   (the Redguards' long-lost home), were filled with nests of volcanic geodes and jewels. The ancient Yokudans mined up  ,  s,  s, and  s—placing great value on any stone with rich color or creamy luster. ( s, shockingly enough, were often discarded due to their lack of hue!)

In addition to creating wide necklaces and heavy bangles, the Yokudans used these gems to adorn their most prized possessions: family swords. They studded the pommels, scabbards, crossguards (and even the blades!) with finely-cut jewels. Over time, this practice fell out of favor. The near-constant civil wars of the Yokeda forced the Redguards, more often than not, to choose utility over beauty. Nonetheless, the gem-cutting tradition remained strong. Yokudan jewelers turned their focus from the martial to the glamorous, crafting elaborate opal headdresses, jangling sapphire anklets, and wide amethyst rings. When the time came for the   invasions, these craftsmen brought their skills and traditions to  . I was surprised to learn that the tools and methods of Redguard jewelers have remained largely unchanged ever since.

So if you ever make your way to Alik'r, do yourself a favor and buy a jeweled Redguard knife or a  -style ring. True, you'll never have the opportunity to see the rolling hills of Yokuda. But these treasures can take you there in spirit,