Netruk44/uesp-wiki-content huggingface dataset:
Lore:Drunken Aphorisms

Give a baby   a chunk of meat, and he'll be fed for an hour. Teach a baby alit to find its own meat and you'll be dead in a week.

  are like volcanos&mdash;gray, ornery, and filled with red goo.

Never tell a   that it's ugly. It doesn't speak Cyrodilic, and it won't understand what you're saying. You're just wasting your time.

The only road worth traveling is the road that's not made of lava.

When you set the table, always leave out one glass for a friend. If they don't show, you can drink two drinks at once.

It's good to be rich, but it's even better to be really, really rich.

If you want to murder someone, use a Dunmeri knife. If you want to spread butter, also use a Dunmeri knife. Dark Elves make great knives.

No mushroom is ever so tall as the mushroom that grows the tallest.

If I was a   and someone tried to ride me, I'd buck them off! Then I'd try to find a witch who could turn me back into a person.

Life is like a  &mdash;it flies right by and it stinks.

If someone asks you why you drink so much, just tell them you lost your wife recently. If they ask how, tell them she fell into one of the wine bottles and you're trying to find her.

The mer who chases two guars at once will get really, really tired and probably shouldn't be a guar farmer.

When life offers you sour figs, just eat them right away. That'll show life.

You can teach a guar to dance, but it'll still look really stupid.

A wise mer never turns his back on a   wizard … unless there's a Telvanni wizard behind him. Then things get weird.

Never talk about how stupid the Tribunal is. Wait, are you writing this down?

  make the best wives. They drink a lot, sleep a lot, and don't live very long.

Never test the temper of a one-eyed  . It's the only test he'll always pass.

If you ask the Tribunal for rain, you'll get a flood. That's why constipated Dark Elves never pray.

If   tells you to jump, you jump. If   tells you to jump, you don't jump, because Sotha Sil never tells anyone to do anything. If   tells you to jump, you take a moment to think, because he probably wants you to paint a three-legged horse or something.

Some days you're the bull and some days you're the betty. But either way, you're still a giant tentacle monster.

I love  s. They taste great and they never tell you what they think.

Drinking alone is like drinking with friends, just with less people.
Lore:Eagle Hunter: Against the Dominion

The   is ruled by the   and their vassal slaves. Pay heed to their weakness and cowardice: they employ a combination of subterfuge, magic, and dirty tricks that can trip up a stout-hearted, honorable soldier such as yourself.

The cowardly   are best noted for their unwillingness to engage in a face-to-face attack; a Bosmer will strike at you from every side except the front. You won't cross swords with a Bosmer, but you might catch an arrow in the throat. Be wary in forests and jungles, and watch your back.

  may look cuddly, but they are no laughing matter in a fight. Don't expect duels to end if you can disarm them. They possess razor-sharp claws that can puncture light and leather armors. And it's said that their tails can be used as crude third hands, wielding daggers and throwing knives with deadly accuracy.

Then there are the High Elves themselves. Although the haughty Altmer are often undone by their own arrogance, in a fight their considerable reach can pose a problem. Close the gap between you and your target. Make their height a liability. Strike low and bring them to the ground.

With a little study, a stout-hearted   soldier such as yourself will be able to easily cleave through dozens of pathetic Dominion conscripts!
Lore:Enduring Nord Society

If, like the unfortunate author of this text, you have the displeasure of being required by your   to interact with our   " " and "trade partners" on a regular basis, you'll quickly discover that Nord social interactions are far removed from our complex and dignified  i culture. My frequent exposure to their habits and behaviors has made me something of an authority on avoiding physical harm when in the company of Nords, and I hope it may assist you, the reader, in the same.

With Nords, insults are not always insults&mdash;unless they are. When conversing among themselves, references that might otherwise seem offensive (like "you old  's arse") might, in fact, be familiar terms of endearment. One should avoid chiming in with similar epithets unless quite familiar with the Nords in question. Keep in mind, even then, that insulting a Nord's strength, bravery, or honor in any way almost inevitably leads to violence as the offended party attempts to prove otherwise.

Never turn down a drink. You must become an expert at discreetly emptying your sixth or seventh cup of mead underneath the table (don't worry, there will be plenty of spillage already present; no one will notice). Refusing a drink is seen as an admittance of weakness and is a sure way to alienate yourself from those you have been forced to work alongside. 

My last bit of advice is to attempt to speak in the simplest terms possible. Nords, while they do love absurd stories, do not appreciate the finer arts of conversation, and become suspicious of those who speak in elaborate language. A suspicious Nord is a dangerous Nord, likely to go off and begin yelling and throwing accusations that you're deliberately being confusing and must be lying. Keep it simple and you'll avoid bruises.

Good luck, reader. You will need it as you attempt to cooperate with these brutish  .
Lore:Exposing a Terrible Evil

I have had it up to here with the rogues and hoodlums that have turned our once great city of   into a cesspool of crime and depravity. And do you know who the worst of the bad bunch happens to be? It's not the smugglers or the bandits or the pirates. It's that nest of vipers, that cult of secrets pretending to be a legitimate business. Oh, some of you have heard whispers, and some of you know the legends, but only I have learned the whole, gory truth! And now I plan to expose these brutal fanatics to the bright light of day!  , prepare to be revealed as the cowardly murderers you really are!

 

I discovered this unfinished letter among my brother's papers, along with a journal full of evidence, anecdotes, and idle speculation about the supposed religious ascetics who sell their dark talents to the highest bidder. While I can't prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt, there is no uncertainty in my own mind about the fate of my brother. He didn't die from eating a rotten red mushroom stew. No. He was brutally assassinated by those degenerate cultists who follow the whispers of the Night&mdash;

 

Oh dear. First my brother-in-law. Now my husband. Who knew the men in their family were so fragile, so prone to dying at an early age? But maybe there's more to what happened to the two brothers than the obvious conclusion. We're supposed to believe that two virile and healthy men in the prime of their lives simply keeled over and died while working at their writing tables? I've studied the letter they both began to write, reviewed the damning journal with its tales of murder-for-hire and dark rituals conducted in the dead of night.

I've read it all, and there's only one conclusion I can come to. My husband and his brother died of&mdash;natural causes. There's no such thing as a cult of paid killers operating on the  ! And anyone who tells you differently will probably wind up just like my beloved husband and his no-account brother. So, to anyone who might read this, I'm burning the journal and putting all of this murder nonsense behind me.

Just the same, I probably won't be eating any red mushroom stew for the foreseeable future.
Lore:Factotum Model Registry

Factotum series 1 - discontinued  
Factotum series 2 - discontinued  
Factotum series 3 - discontinued  
Factotum series 4 - discontinued  
Factotum series 5 - discontinued  
Factotum series 6 - discontinued  
Factotum series 7 - current generation. 946 partitions active. 6400 partitions stored.

Improvement Notes:  
1. Increased ambulatory speed and coordination. Stair navigation greatly improved.  
2. Further reduced occurrence of memory-regression episodes.  
3. Installed anterior storage compartments.  
4. Field of view increased by 20%  
5. Enhanced facial recognition and expression comprehension aptitude.  
6. Increased vocabulary by 670 words.  
7. Further amplified threat recognition and reaction speed.
Lore:Fantos Epilion's Journal

Entry 42 
I thought the     would require no effort to join. The town is run by pirates! Even so, the magister insists I show a "rigorous mind," whatever that means.

Entry 43 
I thought the magister was being literal, so I delivered a fresh   brain to the guild hall. I'm no fool; I thought to wrap it in three layers of waxed paper. I don't see why it caused such a fuss.

Entry 44 
Finally, a breakthrough! The magister has no practical knowledge of the  , which means I have the least to prove on the topic. A simple report on claw variation should suffice.

Entry 45 
The magister realized I have no practical knowledge of the dreugh, either. I now have a book about dreugh mating practices and a directive: "Find an alchemical use for grom." What in Oblivion is grom?

Entry 46 
I read the book. Grom is shell of a dreugh which it has eaten and then regurgitated after mating. "Fibrous balls," according to the book. "Foul-smelling." There are no known uses for grom, alchemical or otherwise. 
I'm beginning to think the magister doesn't much like me.

Entry 47 
I've made camp at a dreugh mating ground on the coast north of Anvil. The creatures are docile unless provoked, which allows me to observe them and collect as much grom as I need. 
Joyous day.

Entry 48 
I thought I knew tedium. Now, my life consists of waiting for dreugh to mate.

Entry 49 
I've spotted my first ball of grom! 
This is what passes for excitement, now.

Entry 50 
The old book wasn't lying. There is no alchemical use for grom, unless it's "ruin a variety of expensive alchemical ingredients," or "permanently stain mortar and pestle." 
But I won't let the magister show me up.

Entry 51 
I can confirm grom is inedible. Boiling just makes the smell worse.

Entry 52 
Boiling was the key! As it cooled, the fibrous pulp hardened into the same shell. I realized that, in this state, I could form and shape the pulp. I was able to fashion a simple potion flask that took a stopper well. 
Potion flasks that won't smash if you drop them? There's your alchemical application, magister. 
Of course, I've run out of grom. In order to reproduce my results, I need more dreugh to reproduce.

Entry 53 
More tedium. Why can't the dreugh mate faster?

Entry 54 
I can make the dreugh mate faster! While dumping an alchemical concoction into the sea, a nearby dreugh seemed to perk up and rub its claws together. It immediately sought out another dreugh and paced about, circling it. More activity than I've yet seen from these creatures. 
I'll cook up another batch and sprinkle it along the beach tonight.

Entry 55 
The dreugh seem agitated. Now they all pace, but the mating still isn't happening any faster. 
Tonight I'll increase the batch's potency by a factor of eight. If that doesn't get them over their lethargy, I don't know what will!
Lore:Fleeing Senchal

I fled   today. I couldn't stand to remain behind after what had happened. The flu was bad enough, but to see all that fire? And breathing—so difficult.

Every time I think about it, I just want to vomit. And when I sneeze, which is often thanks to the smoky air, I darken my fur if I cover my nose.

We're all dark inside now because of what we've done. Even those of us who tried to stop it. We failed. The darkness is more than just the air we breathe. Our very spirits have dimmed. Maybe even diminished.

And now we have to live with ourselves and this devastation that we added to the world. The flu? A terrible thing. But to add to that as we did? We did that. That was us. What hubris! And so much fear. So much bad behavior. It stains us.

But, start where we are. That's what my grandmother would say. Start where we are.

Despite the darkness inside us that we gave a fiery form, we must keep moving forward.

And so I leave Senchal. I leave the miasma of death and destruction behind me. And I will find and heal anyone I encounter outside its walls. I cannot stay around Senchal, no. It sickens me to do so. But I can work my healing on those outside it. Perhaps the flu will find me. Perhaps it won't. That is beyond my control.

Ziss. Enough of this.

  
I must write this down before I forget. It has been weeks since the fires. I cannot return to Senchal and be part of that, but I have found a roving community outside the walls. We protect each other. We forage for food. We take in more as we can. And I heal them all with what supplies we can find. The land is not as generous as we would like, but now and again, we find a treasure trove of herbs I can use.

But I write now because of this: None have died from the flu for several days now. Some have recovered. Some have not. But none have sickened in the past several days. Perhaps we should head   and see if the so-called barbarians of   will be kinder than the "civilized people" of Senchal were. Or maybe we will discover more fear-driven and hubris-driven behavior. That is beyond our control.

We will start where we are. Move forward. Make each step count.

  
Ziss! It has been … decades? I forgot I wrote down my pain in this little journal and tucked it into one of our hidden safeholds. Those were dark days. We were staving off more than the flu back then. We fought off fear and starvation. Lived off the land without destroying it and ourselves. But one thing everyone in that group had in common: We knew we needed to be better. Do better. Have more empathy. Be kind. And learn patience. With others, and most of all with ourselves.

Yes, devastation surrounded us for quite a while as we traveled. We saw many behaving badly. We tried to offset that as much as we could, and to some extent, we succeeded. Not as much as we'd like, but the path was the effort, not the result.

I shall leave this little book behind with the hopes that any who pick it up will remember these words: Start where you are. Each moment, and especially when facing the worst things you can imagine, that's all you can do. Start where you are.

 , Itinerant Healer
Lore:From Nirn to the Aether

Still recovering from prior incident with the device. Some adjustments need to be made, obviously. More   is needed, much more, along with a better method of forcefully channeling it into upward movement.

And next time I hope to land in the water.

Nothing great has ever been accomplished without setbacks and pain. And what goal could be greater than this? They laughed when I shouted "From   to the    and back!" from the rooftops, but I will have the last chortle. It is more than a motto to me, it is my life's quest.

It can be done and I will do it. Every trial takes me one step closer. Tomorrow's attempt will be the breakthrough, I feel it in my bones. I sense the stars aligning in favor of my quest.   will be recorded in the scrolls of history!
Online:Pentarch Cievernes

Pentarch Cievernes is a member of the Gray Host who has become corrupted by Namira's void energy, becoming a Shade.
 

Related Quests


Quest-Related Events
Once the puzzle inside the Containment Chamber is complete, he is freed from the anomaly. Count Verandis Ravenwatch urges you to speak with the creature.
:Pentarch Cievernes: "Help … me …."
:Count Verandis Ravenwatch: "That did it! Quickly, now. Question the shade before it dissipates!"

You must interrogate him to progress.
:"The darkness, it stirs. Can you feel it?"
:Tell me about the darkness.
:''"The darkness is a place. A prison. But more than that …. What was once asleep now stirs. And it's hungry. So very, very hungry …."
:This darkness. Is it what Rada al-Saran and Lady Belain seek?
:"The Ashen Lord and the Old One. Yes. Though each for a different purpose. Lady Belain. The vessel that never fills. She awakens the Dark Heart. She laughs beneath the stars and spheres. Do you see? When the Dark Heart beats, she drinks the shadows."
:Beneath stars and spheres? Where can I find Lady Belain?
:"She goes to where the brass worlds spin, inside the globe of horrors. Can you hear it? The beating? You walk between the shadows … I see it in your eyes. You will fall as I have fallen. Dragged down … into the darkness."

If you speak to him again, he says:
:"I am … fading … away ….''"
Lore:Glories of the Pirate Queen

Many of you scallywags haven't had the pleasure of sailing alongside the glorious  , so here're some facts to set you straight about her grand and glorious Provincial Governor!

When Captain Fortunata shouts, the wind listens.

Captain Fortunata has never had scurvy because scurvy doesn't want to make her mad.

Captain Fortunata once sank a boat when she loosed a powerful sneeze, but the sailors on board didn't drown because she ordered them to live.

Hurricanes happen when Captain Fortunata farts into the wind.

Captain Fortunata once spit on the city of  . That's where   came from.

A stupid   once told Captain Fortunata she couldn't sing. She punched him so hard he flew into the sky. We're still waiting for him to come down.

Captain Fortunata only uses a sword because she's tired of killing people with her little finger.

Captain Fortunata doesn't fish. When she wants a fish, it flops up onto her deck and cooks itself.

Sharks don't bite Captain Fortunata because they don't want to break their teeth.

  beg to make deals with Captain Fortunata.

And that's just the beginning of our beloved Pirate Queen's glories!
Lore:How To Prepare Slaughterfish

Preparing Alder Plank Slaughterfish At Sea

Ingredients

::brine
::1 pace-long   fillet
::freshly ground black pepper to taste
::1 cup vinegar
:::fire salts

Directions

Soak the slaughterfish fillet in a brine solution for at least 14 hours. Also, submerge the alder wood plank in water, placing a heavy object on top of it to prevent floating.

Prepare an outdoor smoker on deck, filling the heating receptacle with fire salts. Ignite the fire salts using flint and steel and bring to high heat.

Remove the slaughterfish from the brine, rinse thoroughly under cold running fresh water, and pat dry. Remove the wood plank from the water, and lay the fish out on the plank. Season with freshly ground black pepper.

Smoke the slaughterfish for at least 8 hours, checking after 5 1/2 hours for doneness. The fish is done when it flakes with a fork, but it should also not be too salty. As the fish smokes, the salt content reduces. Adjust the cooking time and salty flavor to your taste.

WARNING: Under no circumstances should fire salts be combined with kindlepitch to increase temperature. This is extremely dangerous and can result in injury or death. The chef on the P.N. Coelacanth tried this and she burned to the waterline.
Lore:How to Pronounce Dwemer Words

There are many different thoughts on the pronunciation of   words. I just sat through a discussion with my master and several other scholars. As always, "learned" scholars disagree. A lot. They also love the sound of their own voices, especially when it comes to Dwarven nomenclature.

After sifting through the Dwemer words passed down to us through history, most notably the names of places, and sitting through that long-winded scholarly review, I have distilled the knowledge to provide a guide on Dwemer pronunciation for other aspiring Dwarven scholars:

How to pronounce Dwemer words: 
- First, inhale deeply 
- Second, drink a full glass of mead or Cyrodilic brandy, whichever you prefer. 
- Inhale deeply again 
- Put four to seven smooth rounded pebbles in your mouth 
- Attempt to say any word you like, but leave out most of the vowels and add extra consonants 
- Emphasize either the third or fourth syllable in an exaggerated manner (even if the word has only two syllables)

Congratulations, you have successfully pronounced a Dwemer word.
Lore:How to Train Your Guar

…in Five Easy Steps!

  have much more complex inner lives than many give them credit for. We know they can be trained to carry packs, and we love them for their docile nature, but what do we really know about our relationship with these steadfast beasts? In my years working with guar, I have discovered that they have a much greater capacity for learning than we could ever expect. My studies have yielded what I believe are some of the best methods for guar training, useful whether you are interested in studying them in-depth or just in getting ol'   to stop chewing on your sandals.

1. Demonstrate 
Make sure to clearly show your guar what you intend for him to do for you. Make sure to hunch over and look as much like a guar as possible. Studies have shown that just by watching, guar can learn the basics of a task. Keep his attention by carrying a bit of food that is of interest while you perform the task.

2. Command 
Clearly, slowly state the command word you wish to associate with the demonstrated behavior. Say it over and over again as you show your guar the correct way to do the task. Sometimes I find that yelling helps, as it startles the guar into paying closer attention (though it may also make him skittish).

3. Watch 
After you have demonstrated what you wish your guar to do while repeating the command word, watch for the guar to make an attempt. Continue saying the command word and continue to the next step every time he makes a move in the correct direction. This can take hours or days, so be prepared to watch for a while.

4. Reward 
Give your guar a reward even for incremental progress, such as nudging a bucket you wish him to carry. Training can be difficult, and rewarding every bit of progress will help your guar stay motivated.

5. Repeat 
It may take weeks for you to fully teach your guar a new task, so stay patient. Train every day, and by following these steps, you'll have the best-trained guar in the district!
Lore:How Long Before the Echoes Fade?

I've no idea how long we've been here, but already it feels like years.

The black-clad soldiers burned our farm and took my entire family. On a black, moonless night, they laid us upon stone altars encrusted with black tallow and caked with the blood of countless victims, and one by one, they put us to the knife. This is what being damned is. We're chattel for the  .

I can't find it in me to cry for what I've lost, not anymore. Day after day this state of being, this soullessness, drains my will. It becomes harder to remember. Harder to think. I've lost so many memories. My father's face? My mother's voice? It doesn't seem possible, but they're gone. Just gone.

Even the basest of emotions are fading. I'm past the point of being indignant toward my captors. I'm past the point of feeling sorry for myself. All that's left is a gaping emptiness, and the distant echoes of a life that seems like a stranger's.

How long will it be before even the echoes fade?
Lore:Howls in the Night

I hear the call of the wild. It's loud this night. The majestic   that wander the snow-covered hills howl to the cold moon above. Are they singing, I wonder? Calling each other to the hunt? Warning off other creatures to protect the pack? Perhaps it's none of these things, but the sound certainly sends shivers down my spine. It makes my mind race when I should be asleep in a warm, cozy bed.

Wolves are mighty hunters, showing honor and ferocity that would make any   proud. They have their world beyond the fires of our villages, and we have ours. Yet at times like these, when sleep eludes me and the haunting howls fill the night, our two worlds merge. As long as that merging remains figurative, I can sit here and listen and dream.

And thank  's heart they have no desire to come closer to our homes and hearths … for this night, at least.