Vernaccus and Bourlor Content . Hallgerd walked into the King ' s Ham that Loredas evening , his face clouded with sadness . While he ordered a mug of greef , his mates Garaz and Xiomara joined him with moderately sincere concern . " What ' s wrong with you , Hallgerd ? " asked Xiomara . " You ' re later than usual , and there ' s a certain air of tragedy you ' ve dragged in with you . Have you lost money , or a nearest and dearest ? " " I haven ' t lost any money , " Hallgerd grimaced . " But I ' ve just received word from my nephew that my cousin Allioch has died . Perfectly natural , he says , just old age . Allioch was ten years younger than me . " " Aw , that ' s terrible . But it goes to show that it ' s important to savor all of life ' s possibilities , ' cause you never know when your time is coming , " said Garaz , who had been sitting at the same stool at the smoky cornerclub for the last several hours . He was not one cursed with self - awareness . " Life ' s short all right , " agreed Xiomara . " But if you ' ll pardon a sentimental thought , few of us are aware of the influence we ' ll have after our deaths . Perhaps there ' s comfort there . For example , have I told you the story about Vernaccus and Bourlor ? " " I don ' t believe so , " said Hallgerd . Vernaccus was a daedra ( said Xiomara , throwing a few dribbles on flin on the hearth to cast the proper mood ) , and though our tale took place many , many years ago , it would be fair to say that Vernaccus still is one . For what after all is time to the immortal daedra ? " Actually , " Garaz interrupted . " I understand that the notion of immortality - - " " I am trying to offer our friend an inspirational tale in his hour of need , " Xiomara growled . " I don ' t have all bloody night to tell it , if you don ' t mind . " You wouldn ' t have heard of Vernaccus ( said Xiomara , abandoning the theme of immortality for the time being ) for even at the height of his power and fame , he was considered feeble by the admittedly high standards of the day . Of course , this lack of respect infuriated him , and his reaction was typical of lesser daedra . He went on a murderous rampage . Soon word spread through all the villages in the Colovian West of the unholy terror . Whole families had been butchered , castles destroyed , orchards and fields torched and cursed so nothing would ever grow there again . To make things even worse for the villagers , Vernaccus began getting visitations from an old rival of his from Oblivion . She was a daedra seducer named Horavatha , and she delighted in taunting him to see how angry she could make him become . " You ' ve flooded a village and that ' s supposed to be impressive ? " she would sneer . " Try collapsing a continent , and maybe you ' ll get a little attention . " Vernaccus could become pretty angry . He didn ' t come very close to collapsing the continent of Tamriel , but it wasn ' t for lack of trying . A hero was needed to face the mad daedra , and fortunately , one was available . His name was Bourlor , and it was said that he had been blessed by the goddess Kynareth . That was the only explanation for his inhuman accuracy with his bow and arrow , for he never missed a target . As a child he had driven his marksmanship tutors wild with frustration . They would tell him how to plant his feet , how to nock a bolt , the proper grip for the cord , the best method of release . He ignored all the rules , and somehow , every time , the arrow would catch a breath of wind and sail directly to his target . It did not matter if the quarry was moving or still , at very close range or miles away . Whatever he wanted to strike with his arrow would be struck . Bourlor answered the call when one of the village mayors begged him for help . Unfortunately , he was not as great a horseman as he was an archer . As he rode through the forest toward the mayor ' s town , a place called Evensacon , Vernaccus was already murdering everyone there . Horavatha watched , and stifled back a yawn . " Murdering a small town mayor isn ' t going to put you in famous company , you know . What you need is a great champion to defeat . Someone like Ysgramor or Pelinal Whitestrake or - - " she stared at the figure emerging from the forest . " That fellow ! " " Who ' s he ? " growled Vernaccus between bites of the mayor ' s quivering body . " The greatest archer in Tamriel . He ' s never missed . " Bourlor had his bow strung and was pointing it at the daedra . For a moment , Vernaccus felt like laughing — the fellow was not even aiming straight — but he had a well - honed sense of self - preservation . There was something about the man ' s look of confidence that convinced the daedra that Horavatha wasn ' t lying . As the bolt left the bow , Vernaccus vanished in a sheet of flame . The arrow impaled a tree . Bourlor stood and stared . He had missed a target . In Oblivion , Vernaccus raged . Fleeing before a mortal man like that — not even the basest scamp would have been so craven . He had exposed himself for the weak , cowardly creature he was . As he considered what steps to take to salvage the situation , he found himself face - to - knee with the most fearsome of the Daedra Princes , Molag Bal . " I never thought anything much of you , Vernaccus , " the giant boomed . " But you have more than proven your worth . You have shown the creatures of Mundus that the daedra are more powerful than the blessings of the Gods . " The other denizens of Oblivion quickly agreed ( as they always did ) with the view of Molag Bal . The daedra are , after all , always very sensitive about their various defeats at the hands of mortal champions . Vernaccus was proclaimed The Elusive Beast , The Unpursuable One , He Who Cannot Be Touched , The Bane of Kynareth . Shrines devoted to him began to be built in remote corners of Morrowind and Skyrim . Bourlor meanwhile , now found flawed , was never again called to rescue a village . He was so heartbroken over his failure to strike his target that he became a hermit , and never restrung his bow again . Some months later , he died , unmourned and unremembered . " Is this really the tale you thought would cheer me ? " asked Hallgerd incredulously . " I ' ve heard the King of Worms told more inspirational stories . " " Wait , " smiled Xiomara . " I ' m not finished yet . " For a year ' s time , Vernaccus was content to watch his legend grow and his fledging worship spread from his home in Oblivion . He was , in addition to being cowardly and inclined toward murderous rages , also a very lazy creature . His worshippers told tales of their Master avoiding the bolts of a thousand archers , of moving through oceans without getting wet , and other feats of avoidance that he would rather not have to demonstrate in person . The real story of his ignominious retreat from Bourlor was thankfully forgotten . The bad news , when it came , was delivered to him with some relish by Horavatha . He had delighted in her jealousy at his growing reputation , so it was with a cruel smile she told him , " Your shrines are being assaulted . " " Who dares ? " he roared . " Everyone who passes them in the wilderness feels the need to throw a stone , " Horavatha purred . " You can hardly blame them . After all , they represent He Who Cannot Be Touched . How could anyone be expected to resist such a target ? " Vernaccus peered through the veil into the world of Mundus and saw that it was true . One of his shrines in Colovian West country was surrounded by a large platoon of mercenary soldiers , who delighted in pelting it with rocks . His worshippers huddled inside , praying for a miracle . In an instant , he appeared before the mercenaries and his rage was terrifying to behold . They fled into the woods before he even had a chance to murder one of them . His worshippers threw open the wooden door to the shrine and dropped to their knees in joy and fear . His anger melted . Then a stone struck him . Then another . He turned to face his assailants , but the air was suddenly filled with rocks . Vernaccus could not see them , but he heard mercenaries in the woods laugh , " It ' s not even trying to move out of the way ! " " It ' s impossible not to hit him ! " guffawed another . With a roar of humiliation , the daedra bounded into the shrine , chased by the onslaught . One of the stones knocked the door closed behind him , striking him in the back . His face broke , anger and embarrassment disappearing , replaced by pain . He turned , shaking , to his worshippers who huddled in the shadows of the shrine , their faith shattered . " Where did you get the wood to build this shrine ? " Vernaccus groaned . " Mostly from a copse of trees near the village of Evensacon , " his high - priest shrugged . Vernaccus nodded . He dropped forward , revealing the deep wound in his back . A rusted arrowhead buried in a whorl in the wood of the door had jolted loose in the assault and impaled him . The daedra vanished in a whirlwind of dust . The shrines were abandoned shortly thereafter , though Vernaccus did have a brief resurgence as the Patron Spirit of Limitations and Impotence before fading from memory altogether . The legend of Bourlor himself never became very well known either , but there are still some who tell the tale , like myself . And we have the advantage of knowing what the Great Archer himself didn ' t know on his deathbed — his final arrow found its target after all .