A Dance in Fire , Book I Series . A Dance in Fire , Book I is a part of the seven - volume " A Dance in Fire " series . Content . Scene : The Imperial City , Cyrodiil Date : 7 Frost Fall , 3E 397 It seemed as if the palace had always housed the Atrius Building Commission , the company of clerks and estate agents who authored and notarized nearly every construction of any note in the Empire . It had stood for two hundred and fifty years , since the reign of the Emperor Magnus , a plain - fronted and austere hall on a minor but respectable plaza in the Imperial City . Energetic and ambitious middle - class lads and ladies worked there , as well as complacent middle - aged ones like Decumus Scotti . No one could imagine a world without the Commission , least of all Scotti . To be accurate , he could not imagine a world without himself in the Commission . " Lord Atrius is perfectly aware of your contributions , " said the managing clerk , closing the shutter that demarcated Scotti ' s office behind him . " But you know that things have been difficult . " " Yes , " said Scotti , stiffly . " Lord Vanech ' s men have been giving us a lot of competition lately , and we must be more efficient if we are to survive . Unfortunately , that means releasing some of our historically best but presently underachieving senior clerks . " " I understand . Can ' t be helped . " " I ' m glad that you understand , " smiled the managing clerk , smiling thinly and withdrawing . " Please have your room cleared immediately . " Scotti began the task of organizing all his work to pass on to his successor . It would probably be young Imbrallius who would take most of it on , which was as it should be , he considered philosophically . The lad knew how to find business . Scotti wondered idly what the fellow would do with the contracts for the new statue of St Alessia for which the Temple of the One had applied . Probably invent a clerical error , blame it on his old predecessor Decumus Scotti , and require an additional cost to rectify . " I have correspondence for Decumus Scotti of the Atrius Building Commission . " Scotti looked up . A fat - faced courier had entered his office and was thrusting forth a sealed scroll . He handed the boy a gold piece , and opened it up . By the poor penmanship , atrocious spelling and grammar , and overall unprofessional tone , it was manifestly evident who the writer was . Liodes Jurus , a fellow clerk some years before , who had left the Commission after being accused of unethical business practices . " Dear Sckotti , I emagine you alway wondered what happened to me , and the last plase you would have expected to find me is out in the woods . But thats exactly where I am . Ha ha . If your ' e smart and want to make lot of extra gold for Lord Atrius ( and yourself , ha ha ) , youll come down to Vallinwood too . If you have ' nt or have been following the politics hear lately , you may or may not know that ther ' s bin a war between the Boshmer and there neighbors Elswere over the past two years . Things have only just calm down , and ther ' s a lot that needs to be rebuilt . Now Ive got more business than I can handle , but I need somone with some clout , someone representing a respected agencie to get the quill in the ink . That somone is you , my fiend . Come & meat me at the M ' ther Paskos Tavern in Falinnesti , Vallinwood . Ill be here 2 weeks and you wont be sorrie . - - Jurus P . S . : Bring a wagenload of timber if you can . " " What do you have there , Scotti ? " asked a voice . Scotti started . It was Imbrallius , his damnably handsome face peeking through the shutters , smiling in that way that melted the hearts of the stingiest of patrons and the roughest of stonemasons . Scotti shoved the letter in his jacket pocket . " Personal correspondence , " he sniffed . " I ' ll be cleared up here in a just a moment . " " I don ' t want to hurry you , " said Imbrallius , grabbing a few sheets of blank contracts from Scotti ' s desk . " I ' ve just gone through a stack , and the junior scribes hands are all cramping up , so I thought you wouldn ' t miss a few . " The lad vanished . Scotti retrieved the letter and read it again . He thought about his life , something he rarely did . It seemed a sea of gray with a black insurmountable wall looming . There was only one narrow passage he could see in that wall . Quickly , before he had a moment to reconsider it , he grabbed a dozen of the blank contracts with the shimmering gold leaf ATRIUS BUILDING COMMISSION BY APPOINTMENT OF HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY and hid them in the satchel with his personal effects . The next day he began his adventure with a giddy lack of hesitation . He arranged for a seat in a caravan bound for Valenwood , the single escorted conveyance to the southeast leaving the Imperial City that week . He had scarcely hours to pack , but he remembered to purchase a wagonload of timber . " It will be extra gold to pay for a horse to pull that , " frowned the convoy head . " So I anticipated , " smiled Scotti with his best Imbrallius grin . Ten wagons in all set off that afternoon through the familiar Cyrodilic countryside . Past fields of wildflowers , gently rolling woodlands , friendly hamlets . The clop of the horses ' hooves against the sound stone road reminded Scotti that the Atrius Building Commission constructed it . Five of the eighteen necessary contracts for its completion were drafted by his own hand . " Very smart of you to bring that wood along , " said a gray - whiskered Breton man next to him on his wagon . " You must be in Commerce . " " Of a sort , " said Scotti , in a way he hoped was mysterious , before introducing himself : " Decumus Scotti . " " Gryf Mallon , " said the man . " I ' m a poet , actually a translator of old Bosmer literature . I was researching some newly discovered tracts of the Mnoriad Pley Bar two years ago when the war broke out and I had to leave . You are no doubt familiar with the Mnoriad , if you ' re aware of the Green Pact . " Scotti thought the man might be speaking perfect gibberish , but he nodded his head . " Naturally , I don ' t pretend that the Mnoriad is as renowned as the Meh Ayleidion , or as ancient as the Dansir Gol , but I think it has a remarkable significance to understanding the nature of the merelithic Bosmer mind . The origin of the Wood Elf aversion to cutting their own wood or eating any plant material at all , yet paradoxically their willingness to import plantstuff from other cultures , I feel can be linked to a passage in the Mnoriad , " Mallon shuffled through some of his papers , searching for the appropriate text . To Scotti ' s vast relief , the carriage soon stopped to camp for the night . They were high on a bluff over a gray stream , and before them was the great valley of Valenwood . Only the cry of seabirds declared the presence of the ocean to the bay to the west : here the timber was so tall and wide , twisting around itself like an impossible knot begun eons ago , to be impenetrable . A few more modest trees , only fifty feet to the lowest branches , stood on the cliff at the edge of camp . The sight was so alien to Scotti and he found himself so anxious about the proposition of entering the wilderness that he could not imagine sleeping . Fortunately , Mallon had supposed he had found another academic with a passion for the riddles of ancient cultures . Long into the night , he recited Bosmer verse in the original and in his own translation , sobbing and bellowing and whispering wherever appropriate . Gradually , Scotti began to feel drowsy , but a sudden crack of wood snapping made him sit straight up . " What was that ? " Mallon smiled : " I like it too . ' Convocation in the malignity of the moonless speculum , a dance of fire - - ' " " There are some enormous birds up in the trees moving around , " whispered Scotti , pointing in the direction of the dark shapes above . " I wouldn ' t worry about that , " said Mallon , irritated with his audience . " Now listen to how the poet characterizes Hermaeus Mora ' s invocation in the eighteenth stanza of the fourth book . " The dark shapes in the trees were some of them perched like birds , others slithered like snakes , and still others stood up straight like men . As Mallon recited his verse , Scotti watched the figures softly leap from branch to branch , half - gliding across impossible distances for anything without wings . They gathered in groups and then reorganized until they had spread to every tree around the camp . Suddenly they plummeted from the heights . " Mara ! " cried Scotti . " They ' re falling like rain ! " " Probably seed pods , " Mallon shrugged , not turning around . " Some of the trees have remarkable - - " The camp erupted into chaos . Fires burst out in the wagons , the horses wailed from mortal blows , casks of wine , fresh water , and liquor gushed their contents to the ground . A nimble shadow dashed past Scotti and Mallon , gathering sacks of grain and gold with impossible agility and grace . Scotti had only one glance at it , lit up by a sudden nearby burst of flame . It was a sleek creature with pointed ears , wide yellow eyes , mottled pied fur and a tail like a whip . " Werewolf , " he whimpered , shrinking back . " Cathay - raht , " groaned Mallon . " Much worse . Khajit i cousins or some such thing , come to plunder . " " Are you sure ? " As quickly as they struck , the creatures retreated , diving off the bluff before the battlemage and knight , the caravan ' s escorts , had fully opened their eyes . Mallon and Scotti ran to the precipice and saw a hundred feet below the tiny figures dash out of the water , shake themselves , and disappear into the wood . " Werewolves aren ' t acrobats like that , " said Mallon . " They were definitely Cathay - raht . Bastard thieves . Thank Stendarr they didn ' t realize the value of my notebooks . It wasn ' t a complete loss . "