Skyrim FanFiction, Skyrim Erotica, and More
As the most senior apprentice to Urag gro-Shub at the College of Winterhold, the Arch-Mage assigned me the task of collecting and chronicling all first-hand accounts of the anomaly that took place within Mzinchaleft on Tirdas, 5th day of Heartfire, 3E 389.
The event has since been informally named “The Great Geyser.”
The height of the purple water is estimated to have reached over seven thousand feet in the air, and citizens from Morthal, Dawnstar, Solitude and even Whiterun—which saw unusually clear weather that day—claim to have seen it. I have taken the time to highlight seven especially noteworthy entries herein.
As the days ahead seem to carry little else besides bleak news and dark omens, I wonder at the value of this information. Is the Arch-Mage looking for a clue of some kind? A weakness, perhaps?
Is the key to defeating the necromancer, Akavarin, buried somewhere within these words?
“I was tending to my cows when it burst through the air. Only a morning’s walk from my farm outside Dawnstar. Made a hissing sound, like some kind of snake might. All the next day, my sheep were running down from the hills, hair singed and bodies deformed. Full of evil, they were. At least as evil as a sheep’ll get.
Me and Garba gon-Galak, we are leaving this place. If the sheep have gone bad, what darkness is following behind them, soon to crest the hills?”
-Urksha-Mare, an Orsimer. Former sheepherder, current occupation unknown.
Many citizens living near and around Dawnstar, who possessed less foresight than this man, have since met an unfortunate end.
“I saw the thing. What of it, Beef Tip? It’s a plague. The Morathi Covenant come to turn the world black.”
– A Nord, name unknown.
Subject was both physically menacing and terse with his description. But the mention of the Morathi Covenant is noteworthy and was the inspiration for extensive investigation and discovery into the cause of the Geyser.
Incidentally, the massive Nord was searching the surrounding area for a black-haired Bosmer. I could not help him.
“Thing looked like some secret god of the underworld pulled out his cock and took a giant piss on the heavens.”
-Rogvir – An Imperial, and notorious drunk in Whiterun.
Subject was intoxicated during the interview—information is of note due to Rogvir’s distance from the Geyser, not for its content.
“By the gods, it’s inside of me! The burning scrapes as my veins and penetrates my soul. I am…I am…lost!”
– Veralin Kush, a Breton mercenary.
Subject fell into the purple water that now covers the majority of northern Skyrim, yet somehow had the strength to hobble into Morthal, where I took her statement.
“We had several teams in the area at the time, why do you ask? What are you writing? I must asked to see your credentials again!”
– Elenwen, an Altmer sorceress and First Emissary of the Thalmor.
I was able to take this statement under the guise of a different purpose, but was then expelled from the Thalmor Embassy. To date, I have been unable to find any of these “teams” she spoke of, or discover the reasons they were nearby.
“I have been taking in all of the refugees that I can. But my city can only help so many. I have begun asking my soldiers to divert men and women to Whiterun and Falkreath.
– Elisif the Fair, Nord and Jarl of Solitude. The issue of the refuges—and what to do with them until their land is reconquered from Akavarin—remains unresolved.
“The purple waters are the stones with which I shall raise my castle walls. The brimstone smell is the mortar. The Covenant rises, and there is nothing you can do.”
– Shurien Ulil, a psychotic Dunmer I interviewed in the dungeons of Solitude. He claimed to have been told these words by an albino Skeever.