The Doors of Oblivion Online . Part 1 : Part 2 : Content . When thou enterest into Oblivion , Oblivion entereth into thee . ' - - Nai Tyrol - Llar The greatest mage who ever lived was my master Morian Zenas . You have heard of him as the author of the book ' On Oblivion , ' the standard text for all on matters Daedric . Despite many entreaties over the years , he refused to update his classic book with his new discoveries and theories because he found that the more one delves into these realms , the less certain one is . He did not want conjecture , he wanted facts . For decades before and after the publication of ' On Oblivion , ' Zenas compiled a vast personal library on the subject of Oblivion , the home of the Daedra . He divided his time between this research and personal magickal growth , on the assumption that should he succeed in finding a way into the dangerous world beyond and behind ours , he would need much power to wander its dark paths . Twelve years before Zenas began the journey he had prepared his life to make , he hired me as his assistant . I possessed the three attributes he required for the position : I was young and eager to help without question ; I could read any book once and memorize its contents ; and , despite my youth , I was already a Master of Conjuration . Zenas too was a Master of Conjuration - indeed , a Master at all the known and unknown Schools - but he did not want to rely on his ability alone in the most perilous of his research . In an underground vault , he summoned Daedra to interview them on their native land , and for that he needed another Conjurer to make certain they came , were bound , and were sent away again without incident . I will never forget that vault , not for its look which was plain and unadorned , but for what you couldn ' t see . There were scents that lingered long after the summoned creatures had left , flowers and sulfur , sex and decay , power and madness . They haunt me still to this very day . Conjuration , for the layman unacquainted with its workings , connects the caster ' s mind with that of the summoned . It is a tenuous link , meant only to lure , hold , and dismiss , but in the hands of a Master , it can be much stronger . The Psijics and Dwemer can ( in the Dwemer ' s case , perhaps I should say , could ) connect with the minds of others , and converse miles apart - a skill that is sometimes called telepathy . Over the course of my employment , Zenas and I developed such a link between one another . It was accidental , a result of two powerful Conjurers working closely together , but we decided that it would be invaluable should he succeed in traveling to Oblivion . Since the denizens of that land could be touched even by the skills of an amateur Conjurer , it was possible we could continue to communicate while he was there , so I could record his discoveries . The ' Doors to Oblivion , ' to use Morian Zenas ' s phrase , are not easily found , and we exhausted many possibilities before we found one where we held the key . The Psijics of Artaeum have a place they call The Dreaming Cave , where it is said one can enter into the Daedric realms and return . Iachesis , Sotha Sil , Nematigh , and many others have been recorded as using this means , but despite many entreaties to the Order , we were denied its use . Celarus , the leader of the Order , has told us it has been sealed off for the safety of all . We had hopes of using the ruins of the Battlespire to access Oblivion . The Weir Gate still stands , though the old proving grounds of the Imperial Battlemage s itself was shattered some years ago in Jagar Tharn ' s time . Sadly , after an exhaustive search through the detritus , we had to conclude that when it was destroyed , all access to the realms beyond , the Soul Cairn , the Shade Perilous , and the Havoc Wellhead , had been broken . It was probably for the good , but it frustrated our goal . The reader may have heard of other Doors , and he may be assured we attempted to find them all . Some are pure legend , or at any rate , not traceable based on the information left behind . There are references in lore to Marukh ' s Abyss , the Corryngton Mirror , the Mantellan Crux , the Crossroads , the Mouth , a riddle of an alchemical formula called Jacinth and Rising Sun , and many other places and objects that are said to be Doors , but we could not find . Some exist , but cannot be entered safely . The whirlpool in the Abecean called the Maelstrom of Bal can make ships disappear , and may be a portal into Oblivion , but the trauma of riding its waters would surely slay any who tried . Likewise , we did not consider it worth the risk to leap from the Pillar of Thras , a thousand foot tall spiral of coral , though we witnessed the sacrifices the sloads made there . Some victims were killed by the fall , but some , indeed , seemed to vanish before being dashed on the rocks . Since the sload did not seem certain why some were taken and some died , we did not favor the odds of the plunge . The simplest and most maddeningly complex way to go to Oblivion was simply to cease to be here , and begin to be there . Throughout history , there are examples of mages who seemed to travel to the realms beyond ours seemingly at will . Many of these voyagers are long dead , if they ever existed , but we were able to find one still living . In a tower off Zafirbel Bay on the island of Vvardenfell in the province of Morrowind there exists a very old , very reclusive wizard named Divayth Fyr . He was not easy to reach , and he was reluctant to share with Morian Zenas the secret Door to Oblivion . Fortunately , my master ' s knowledge of lore impressed Fyr , and he taught him the way . I would be breaking my promise to Zenas and Fyr to explain the procedure here , and I would not divulge it even if I could . If there is dangerous knowledge to be had , that is it . But I do not reveal too much to say that Fyr ' s scheme relied on exploiting a series of portals to various realms created by a Telvanni wizard long missing and presumed dead . Against the disadvantage of this limited number of access points , we weighed the relative reliability and security of passage , and considered ourselves fortunate in our informant . Morian Zenas then left this world to begin his exploration . I stayed at the library to transcribe his information and help him with any research he needed . ' Dust , ' he whispered to me on the first day of his voyage . Despite the inherent dreariness of the word , I could hear his excitement in his voice , echoing in my mind . ' I can see from one end of the world to the other in a million shades of gray . There is no sky or ground or air , only particles , floating , falling , whirling about me . I must levitate and breathe by magickal means . . . ' " Zenas explored the nebulous land for some time , encountering vaporous creatures and palaces of smoke . Though he never met the Prince , we concluded that he was in Ashpit , said to be the home of Malacath , where anguish , betrayal , and broken promises like ash filled the bitter air . " ' The sky is on fire , ' I heard him say as he moved on to the next realm . ' The ground is sludge , but traversable . I see blackened ruins all around me , like a war was fought here in the distant past . The air is freezing . I cast blooms of warmth all around me , but it still feels like daggers of ice stabbing me in all directions . ' This was Coldharbour , where Molag Bal was Prince . It appeared to Zenas as if it were a future Nirn , under the King of Rape , desolate and barren , filled with suffering . I could hear Morian Zenas weep at the images he saw , and shiver at the sight of the Imperial Palace , spattered with blood and excrement . ' Too much beauty , ' Zenas gasped when he went to the next realm . ' I am half blind . I see flowers and waterfalls , majestic trees , a city of silver , but it is all a blur . The colors run like water . It ' s raining now , and the wind smells like perfume . This surely is Moonshadow , where Azura dwells . ' Zenas was right , and astonishingly , he even had audience with the Queen of Dusk and Dawn in her rose palace . She listened to his tale with a smile , and told him of the coming of the Nerevarine . My master found Moonshadow so lovely , he wished to stay there , half - blind , forever , but he knew he must move on and complete his journey of discovery . ' I am in a storm , ' he told me as he entered the next realm . He described the landscape of dark twisted trees , howling spirits , and billowing mist , and I thought he might have entered the Deadlands of Mehrunes Dagon . But then he said quickly , ' No , I am no longer in a forest . There was a flash of lightning , and now I am on a ship . The mast is tattered . The crew is slaughtered . Something is coming through the waves . . . oh , gods . . . Wait , now , I am in a dank dungeon , in a cell . . . ' He was not in the Deadlands , but Quagmire , the nightmare realm of Vaermina . Every few minutes , there was a flash of lightning and reality shifted , always to something more horrible and horrifying . A dark castle one moment , a den of ravening beasts the next , a moonlit swamp , a coffin where he was buried alive . Fear got the better of my master , and he quickly passed to the next realm . I heard him laugh , ' I feel like I ' m home now . ' Morian Zenas described to me an endless library , shelves stretching on in every direction , stacks on top of stacks . Pages floated on a mystical wind that he could not feel . Every book had a black cover with no title . He could see no one , but felt the presence of ghosts moving through the stacks , rifling through books , ever searching . It was Apocrypha . The home of Hermaeus - Mora , where all forbidden knowledge can be found . I felt a shudder in my mind , but I could not tell if it was my master ' s or mine . Morian Zenas never traveled to another realm that I know of . Throughout his visits to the first four realms , my master spoke to me constantly . Upon entering the Apocrypha , he became quieter , as he was lured into the world of research and study , the passions that had controlled his heart while on Nirn . I would frantically try to call to him , but he closed his mind to me . Then he would whisper , ' This cannot be . . . ' ' No one would ever guess the truth . . . ' ' I must learn more . . . ' ' I see the world , a last illusion ' s shimmer , it is crumbling all around us . . . ' I would cry back to him , begging him to tell me what was happening , what he was seeing , what he was learning . I even tried using Conjuration to summon him as if he were a Daedra himself , but he refused to leave . Morian Zenas was lost . I last received a whisper from him six months ago . Before then , it had been five years , and three before that . His thoughts are no longer intelligible in any language . Perhaps he is still in Apocrypha , lost but happy , in a trap he refuses to escape . Perhaps he slipped between the stacks and passed into the Madhouse of Sheogorath , losing his sanity forever . I would save him if I could . I would silence his whispers if I could . Bugs . On , this book can be looted from the Skeleton an unlimited number of times , and may even duplicate each time the skeleton ' s inventory is opened . If duplicated excessively , this can result in severe lag and , on occasion , the game freezing .