Feyfolken , Book II Summary . This book is part of a three book series . The others in the series include : Content . Feyfolken Book Two by Waughin Jarth After the test had been given and Vonguldak and Taksim had demonstrated their knowledge of elementary conjuration , the Great Sage told them that they were free to enjoy the day . The two lads , who most afternoons fidgeted through their lessons , refused to leave their seats . " You told us that after the test , you ' d tell us more of your tale about the scribe and his enchanted quill , " said Taksim . " You ' ve already told us about the scribe , how he lived alone , and his battles with the Temple secretary over the Bulletin he scripted for posting , and how he suffered from the Crimson Plague and couldn ' t speak . When you left off , his messenger boy had just had his master ' s quill enchanted with the spirit of a daedra named Feyfolken , " added Vonguldak to add the Great Sage ' s memory . " As it happens , " said the Great Sage . " I was thinking about a nap . However , the story does touch on some issues of the natures of spirits and thus is related to conjuration , so I ' ll continue . Thaurbad began using the quill to write the Temple Bulletin , and there was something about the slightly lopsided , almost three - dimensional quality of the letters that Thaurbad liked a lot . Into the night , Thaurbad put together the Temple of Auri - El ' s Bulletin . For the moment he washed over the page with the Feyfolken quill , it became a work of art , an illuminated manuscript crafted of gold , but with good , simple and strong vernacular . The sermon excerpts read like poetry , despite being based on the archpriest ' s workmanlike exhortation of the most banal of the Alessian Doctrines . The obituaries of two of the Temple ' s chief benefactors were stark and powerful , pitifully mundane deaths transitioned into world - class tragedies . Thaurbad worked the magical palette until he nearly fainted from exhaustion . At six o ' clock in the morning , a day before deadline , he handed the Bulletin to Gorgos for him to carry to Alfiers , the Temple secretary . As expected , Alfiers never wrote back to compliment him or even comment on how early he had sent the bulletin . It didn ' t matter . Thaurbad knew it was the best Bulletin the Temple had ever posted . At one o ' clock on Sundas , Gorgos brought him many messages . " The Bulletin today was so beautiful , when I read it in the vestibule , I ' m ashamed to tell you I wept copiously , " wrote the archpriest . " I don ' t think I ' ve seen anything that captures Auri - El ' s glory so beautifully before . The cathedrals of Firsthold pale in comparison . My friend , I prostrate myself before the greatest artist since Gallael . " The archpriest was , like most men of the cloth , given to hyperbole . Still , Thaurbad was happy with the compliment . More messages followed . All of the Temple Elders and thirty - three of the parishioners young and old had all taken the time to find out who wrote the bulletin and how to get a message to congratulate him . And there was only one person they could go through for that information : Alfiers . Imaging the dragon lady besieged by his admirers filled Thaurbad with positive glee . He was still in a good mood the next day when he took the ferry to his appointment with his healer , Telemichiel . The herbalist was new , a pretty Redguard woman who tried to talk to him , even after he gave her the note reading " My name is Thaurbad Hulzik and I have an appointment with Telemichiel for eleven o ' clock . Please forgive me for not talking , but I have no voicebox anymore . " " Has it started raining yet ? " she asked cheerfully . " The diviner said it might . " Thaurbad frowned and shook his head angrily . Why was it that everyone thought that mute people liked to be talked to ? Did soldiers who lost their arms like to be thrown balls ? It was undoubtedly not a purposefully cruel behavior , but Thaurbad still suspected that some people just liked to prove that they weren ' t crippled too . The examination itself was routine horror . Telemichiel performed the regular invasive torture , all the while chatting and chatting and chatting . " You ought to try talking once in a while . That ' s the only way to see if you ' re getting better . If you don ' t feel comfortable doing it in public , you could try practicing it by yourself , " said Telemichiel , knowing his patient would ignore his advice . " Try singing in the bath . You ' ll probably find you don ' t sound as bad as you think . " Thaurbad left the examination with the promise of test results in a couple of weeks . On the ferry ride back home , Thaurbad began thinking of next week ' s temple bulletin . What about a double - border around the " Last Sundas ' s Offering Plate " announcement ? Putting the sermon in two columns instead of one might have interesting effects . It was almost unbearable to think that he couldn ' t get started on it until Alfiers sent him information . When she did , it was with the note , " LAST BULLETIN A LITTLE BETTER . NEXT TIME , DON ' T USE THE WORD ' FORTUITOUS ' IN PLACE OF ' FORTUNATE . ' THE WORDS ARE NOT , IF YOU LOOK THEM UP , SYNONYMOUS . " In response , Thaurbad almost followed Telemichiel ' s advice by screaming obscenities at Gorgos . Instead , he drank a bottle of cheap wine , composed and sent a suitable reply , and fell asleep on the floor . The next morning , after a long bath , Thaurbad began work on the Bulletin . His idea for putting a light shading effect on the " Special Announcements " section had an amazing textural effect . Alfiers always hated the extra decorations he added to the borders , but using the Feyfolken quill , they looked strangely powerful and majestic . Gorgos came to him with a message from Alfiers at that very moment as if in response to the thought . Thaurbad opened it up . It simply said , " I ' M SORRY . " Thaurbad kept working . Alfiers ' s note he put from his mind , sure that she would soon follow it up with the complete message " I ' M SORRY THAT NO ONE EVER TAUGHT YOU TO KEEP RIGHT - HAND AND LEFT - HAND MARGINS THE SAME LENGTH " or " I ' M SORRY WE CAN ' T GET SOMEONE OTHER THAN A WEIRD , OLD MAN AS SCRIBE OF OUR BULLETIN . " It didn ' t matter what she was sorry about . The columns from the sermon notes rose like the massive pillars of roses , crowned with unashamedly ornate headers . The obituaries and birth announcements were framed together with a spherical border , as a heartbreaking declaration of the circle of life . The Bulletin was simultaneously both warm and avant - garde . It was a masterpiece . When he sent it off to Alfiers late that afternoon , he knew she ' d hate it , and was glad . Thaurbad was surprised to get a message from the Temple on Loredas . Before he read the content , he could tell from the style that it wasn ' t from Alfiers . The handwriting wasn ' t Alfiers ' s usual belligerent slashing style , and it wasn ' t all in Alfiers ' s usual capital letters , which read like a scream from Oblivion . " Thaurbad , I thought you should know Alfiers isn ' t at the Temple anymore . She quit her position yesterday , very suddenly . My name is Vanderthil , and I was lucky enough ( let me admit it now , I begged pitifully ) to be your new Temple contact . I ' m overwhelmed by your genius . I was having a crisis of faith until I read last week ' s Bulletin . This week ' s Bulletin is a miracle . Enough . I just wanted to say I ' m honored to be working with you . - - Vanderthil . " The response on Sundas after the service even astonished Thaurbad . The archpriest attributed the massive increase in attendance and collection plate offerings entirely to the Bulletin . Thaurbad ' s salary was quadrupled . Gorgos brought over a hundred and twenty messages from his adoring public . The following week , Thaurbad sat in front of his writing plank , a glass of fine Torvali mead at his side , staring at the blank scroll . He had no ideas . The Bulletin , his child , his second - wife , bored him . The third - rate sermons of the archbishop were absolute anathema , and the deaths and births of the Temple patrons struck him as entirely pointless . Blah blah , he thought as he scribbled on the page . He knew he wrote the letters B - L - A - H B - L - A - H . The words that appeared on the scroll were , " A necklace of pearl on a white neck . " He scrawled a jagged line across the page . It appeared in through that damned beautiful Feyfolken quill : " Glory to Auri - El . " Thaurbad slammed the quill and poetry spilled forth in a stream of ink . He scratched over the page , blotting over everything , and the vanquished words sprung back up in different form , even more exquisite than before . Every daub and splatter caused the document to whirl like a kaleidoscope before falling together in gorgeous asymmetry . There was nothing he could do to ruin the Bulletin . Feyfolken had taken over . He was a reader , not an author . Now , " asked the Great Sage . " What was Feyfolken from your knowledge of the School of Conjuration ? " " What happened next ? " cried Vonguldak . " First , tell me what Feyfolken was , and then I ' ll continue the story . " " You said it was a daedra , " said Taksim . " And it seems to have something to do with artistic expression . Was Feyfolken a servitor of Azura ? " " But the scribe may have been imagining all this , " said Vonguldak . " Perhaps Feyfolken is a servitor of Sheogorath , and he ' s gone mad . Or the quill ' s writing makes everyone who views it , like all the congregation at the Temple of Auri - El go mad . " " Hermaeus Mora is the daedra of knowledge . . . and Hircine is the daedra of the wild . . . and the daedra of revenge is Boethiah , " pondered Taksim . And then he smiled , " Feyfolken is a servitor of Clavicus Vile , isn ' t it ? " " Very good , " said the Great Sage . " How did you know ? " " It ' s his style , " said Taksim . " Assuming that he doesn ' t want the power of the quill now that he has it . What happens next ? " " I ' ll tell you , " said the Great Sage , and continued the tale .