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The Five Hundred Mighty Companions or Thereabouts of Ysgramor the Returned

Author: 
Michael Kirkbride

The first of Ysgramor’s Five Hundred Mighty Companions was actually two, the ashen-amalgamation of his sons that had survived Sarthaal only to die in the freeze-rains of the returning, named Tsunaltir and Stuhnalmir when alive and now called the Grit-Prince Tstunal, whose Tear-Wives were Vramali, Jarli-al, Alleir, and Tusk Widow Who Foreswore Her Name, whose Wine-Wives were Elja Hate-Basket and Ingridal who lost her casket at the burning, and Mjarili-al Half-Casket, whose Hearth-Wives were none survived, and whose Kyne-Wives were none survived, and whose Shield-Wives were Shanjenen the Echo-Eaten and Jahnsdotter Whose-Name-Stays-in-its-Cradle. There were also the twenty-two Thunder Shield Women ungiven to marriage and so served as Ysgramor’s oracle-aunts until Kyne would wind them away: Unalt, Hrim, Kjhelt of the Cult of Orkey, Ingridal who used her wine casket as a drum, Fjorli, Mjemk, Soress-li, Anshalf whose gigantic shield was stripped from a karstaag-man, Khela and Akhela who traded shields daily out of some geas, Vemmab, Borgasa, Nem-yet, Vashina, Frekshild, Dahnarlyet, Mem-yet Chemua who held secret shield-songs “unneeded yet”, and their five eldest, called the Five Eldest of the Thunder Shield Women. There were also his ten Totem-Uncles, whose names are too long for ink, but are these in swift: Aldugapadptujenmenhelfnenjaarighuruijleymora, Ghrojarhisysmirirekyetrethaalma, Talochletnoocnenuethethelaldmerysriemaeneynjora, Kjarkaakfajiriutyestrualkethmemvirillichenswalwe, Mnenatmetmoraldumirirekyetrethaalnenjaarighuru, Bjornalijleyyetrethaalmaljarkaakfaltalochletghuru, Mjanorralpaghrohardolwepthuulruelmehykhenharl, Kaejistroonaalmerrisliysmieiltethahldlungalthadnh, Drummersretyaljarkaakfaltalochletgehmoraldukyne, and the Last, whose name cannot even be writ in swift, but you know him. There were his Torc-Nephews, Khaalthhe the Lynx-or-Leopard (this one was more his pet than torc-bearer, but Ysgramor was gregarious and warm), Alabar the Oddly-Colored (his personal Clever Man by blood), Hegm the Deaf, and Bjurl Dahnaorsson who Heard Enough to Let Hegm Know Later. There were his Nieces-of-Snow, Teb the Deaf, Mbjanal the Deaf, Fehg-fehg the Deaf, and Tsjari their Speaker. There were his pets of renown, the Hoagbellows Goat, Bjorga-mawr the Definitely-a-Leopard, Jeorr the Rabbit-Hawk, Heimnelraw the Regular Hawk, Hans the Fox, Fefmem and Gemalleir, the two-headed glow-eel, Dyssl-veb the Bear, whose tusks were adorned in devil-scratch, Dyssl-veb’s Wine-Wife Casket-Jane, Gremfell the wicker-what, a creature no one could identify but was counted among the Mighty, Hgmm the Snake, Febhradrneed the Cloud, and Rackety-Nix the Nix-hound. Of Ysgramor’s immediate family there were these among the Five Hundred, but he counted among their number and of that of his own hearth his belt, Ysgrim Ysgramorsbelt.

By tradition, the Boat-Thanes were allowed to race for the vanguard of their High King, and Morgan the Red and his longboat Drumbeater took the foremost before crashing into the hazards of the Broken Cape in 1E68, no souls aboard surviving except for Olaf the Dog, a berserker who had been to Hsaarik’s Head a thousand times or more and knew leaping magic. He jumped from the wreckage all the way to Skyrim, landing on Olaf’s bridge. He was burnt there for his cheating by the students of Haafingar, which now happens every year. Besides his Boat-Thane, Olaf’s dead companions were these: Gyre the Old Beater, Grimwelt his Witch-Glass, Stenv Stenvnulson, Jeghwyr and her brothers Fjurlt the Going Grey, Vrolwyr who changed gender on accident, and Deilmark the Master of Oars, the Clever-Man Hguelg the Mumbling, who whipped the sails of the Drumbeater too hard with his mutter-magic, his student Frendlmegh the Kilt (too short for most), his Wine-Wife Shenya Cracked-Casket, Piemaker Maefwe and her cake-uncle Thendjar the Snappily-Clad, the leader of reavers Mjhro-li who bore a three-bladed shield, her Whetstone-Sons Unjor and Hghewenntar and Djaffidd, the whale-addict Gfeful who cracked his face across the ice laughing like a child at fair, the Six Drum quartet, and the oarsmen: Blue Dugal, Ttuj the Driftsman, Einhelf, Amornen and his brother Tefflnen, Gjaarigh, Urul Uruson, Dgaargl who slept through it all, Nenmor Orcsneck, Svir the Unthaned, Saddle-Not the Mule, Hgelhelm the Outcast who once married a snow drake as if no one would notice, Haalj Hgelhelmson (of whose lineage the less the said the better), Crendandel and Hfewl and Nuil and Second Nuil (four brothers who had not talked since their father’s death at Sarthaal), and Fvelfrim the Heaven-Scented.

Afterwards came the crash of the longboat Bloodwood Tongue of Nhemakhela Stare-breaker’s belong, no souls aboard surviving. Its loss was grievous and hard enough to break the song out of any flourish, and immediately the Toll-Taker called Gald, Ugawen, Thehp, Naandl, Mjtujjor, Jarnnmegh, Sveinhelf, Nenthwen, Jaaril-ghur, Einmor, Lleymwnnem, Mnoor, Thurwhn, Ghrokarg, Nhsmir, Fire-kin Fhaal, Mjaaloc, Thletnn-li, Bjrochtehl, Nocnenue, Fhethe, Llaldesmiir, Wyndl, Maewyn, Svenredd, Kaene, Einnjoral, Jjarkaak, Nendlfaj, Ciriul, Gwemlthrest, Ruald, Einndmel, Mjuul, Sorshen, Swalne, Njnenya, Thoraj, Frendetter, Rrummrir, Grethnaal, and Swemnen to the Under-Hall some call Hell.

By 1E421, Ysgramor revised the rites of vanguard and appointed Rebec the Red to lead the return with the Nail-knock, whose longboat counted these Sons and Daughters of Kyne among their number: Rebec’s Hearth-Husband Jjauf who shouted out shoes, her Pity-Husbands Korl-jkorl, Heimgrud the Laughing Lake, Njimal, Bjimal Njimalson, and Thalld the Hobbler, found wandering in the forests of Mora with lost feet, who not even Jjauf could help, her Shield-Husband Valomar of the Daggershout, his brother Halomar the Handle-Maker, and their ash-uncle Noaheim who was risen also from the Sack, and her ash-aunt Marthelk, the last two of which bore (the first) Guri Nail-Face, Hgaehmhel, Nbikki the Red, Khalokehl, Ysmehka, Jorgal the Child-Skald, Ghem-fegh, and Dolweppa Heimsdotter, all of which were seen as outcasts from Shor’s eye, as dust shall not mate with dust, but Ysgramor’s Sovngarde's Plea was enough that they could be Accounted, if only by being ground into the very timbers of Rebec’s longboat. And their gathered brothers and sisters were Mjanor, Ralpagh the Red, Rohard the Red, Olwep the Bald who couldn’t stand so many reds, Thuulrue Thuulsson, Kaejis, Ntroonaal the Bailiff, Merry Eyesore the Elk, Ysmieil the Younger, Ysmieil Named as Such Because His Parents Forgot They Used That Name Before, Tethahld, Lungalth, Thadnh-eli the betrothed to all Sarthaal in the manner of the Dibellites, Drum-Maker Haraldmer who was part mer to his sorrow, Ysret the Red, Yaljar who ate a whole bear out of haste because he needed to keep his picnic courtship of Kfalta Lakesdotter going (and she was here with him still but unwed until her tutelage under Chemua was complete), Fegh-let and Lochlet, Gehmora who would never know doom and this maddened her, and Idulkyne the feather-painter. Of the Nail-Knock’s Heroes unrelated to Rebec directly were the boat-carls and staghorn-fighters, Taloc of the Thorn-Torc tribe, Hletno who never made up his mind until wasabi, Ocne the Clever Man, Nue his Book-Wife, Thethel the Red, Lundga Aldmer-Eater for she did so, Bysri her sister that once knocked down Ysgramor’s belt at the Old Hold fair, Njemae and Neyn, Jora and her younger brother Jorel, Lynx-singer and Clever Kid in turn.

Behind the bulk of Ysgramor’s fleet were the rest of the Boat-Thanes, who are named in full shortly hereafter. The Five Hundred’s last few were still in Ald Mora and yet to break sail. These were the Fifty Five Beards of the Broadwall, who gave tithe-torc and swear-casket to their Thoom-Thane, Vrage the Gifted, born under the strange suns (meaning the sun of Ald Mora and the sun of Merethland) of 1E208, and it was his clan that built and broke and rebuilt Broadwall whenever the Nords deigned to sing their return whether forwards or back and they were Vrage’s Sky-Wife, Thoom-Sha, the Queen of the Tongues of Men, whose lineage was without end in a language of silent letters and bog-gods that still hide in the moss beneath the previous kalpa and who wore a fake beard everywhere save for bed, and Hwamjar the Bear-Shaper and his brother Hwem, both of which served at the shieldwall of Elhnowhen under the direction of Stuhn, and Olaj Olo the demi-god of Mead, and Jarmungdrung the Hammer who could read rock, and Five-Headed Ysmalos (meaning also Gulgar, Solst, Svon, and Hoomdel), and Gorgos the Greywalk whose stride could cross the perimeter of Broadwall in a the span of a hiccup (a measure of time still used among the Lords of High Hrothgar), and Bhag the Great Debater who would one day be undone by invisible deeds, and Bhag the Counterargument who would also one day be undone, and Fjalr the Fire Trophy, recovered from the void by Vrage his torc-uncle, and Harald Hairy-Breeks, who never looked on Vrage directly for fear of foxes, and Thoom-Hungry Hjeimdal, whose flesh was breaking with his collected shouts, and Baruhk of Baruhk whose paganism would’ve been disavowed had anyone known its source, and Karkux the Tower of Meat, who even the karstaag-men feared Alduin could not eat ever in whole, and Eighteen-Eared Maryx, who listens to all the shouts that predate our dawn and is counted as the king of those mice that the lynx-cats swear fealty to (and his Heroic Ears are these, Accounted: Thirfl, Jhun, Chorj, Penny-Town Pel, Tsmir, Stsmir, Ear Seven, Tark, Herjdel, Aleh-meht, Jhun Jhunson, Orozurhak, Fha-taloc, Doon’s Ear, Vrajmel, Tor’s Tallow, Khemolech, and Njord), and Haralf Half-a-Casket, whose shouts were drunken and made the snow that heard them drunk thereby, and Fokbar whose daughter will trouble the east, and great Hjalmer the soon-father of Vrage who left us the 222nd year of these days, and Unn Undershout, long-remembered Idiot Prince of Iil, and Bfehg of the Biggest Beard whose beard covered all others at Broadwall when the hurricanes came, and Thopwil the Swimmer who never knew water, and Ragam the Red Kalpa who held two kalpas one in either eye, and Formdell the Builder who baked bricks in his whispers, and Torc-Minded Tor, a hill-o’-man who gave one ear to Maryx for safekeeping, and Bright Cnechctoth who knew every shape of stone except any thereafter repainted in red, and Jkulgar the Handsome who hid his beard in shame, and Horldrung the Hammerer of the Wounded Roaring, and Idolmaker Khemkel whose urns were made to confuse the Jhunal-men, and Harag the Attack who led the spears of Broadwall in any of its aspect-myriad, and Njarlmuk the Shovel, who buried the Architects of those gone fey, and Bladdermost, the demi-god of mileposts who would make signs on the Broadwall for those that should stay away, and Djemi-thir Unnson the Sail-Maker, whose job it was to ensure no return would suffer delays.

The fleet proper included the following Heroes, and they were guarded by the giant karstaag-men who walked the under-ice, the Nine Storms, Potemaic the Wolf-King, whose daughter would be of less height than her father but no less in stature, coming to her own in the nearing solitude, and blue-wristed Telmo of the Wrestling Telmos, whose tumultuous sport caused much upset in the border-makers of the Reach, and the Alehouse Giant, whose woad-markings explained how to build these halls lest some demon make us forget and set us into the ire of a summerlong sobriety, and Helmbolg with his Coughing that sometimes set the guard lamps of the karstaags into ill record, and Jurg his boon companion whose wind-calling would set it all back aright in calming assurance, and the Chandry-Man with twenty watch-lamps hanging from an icicle-chandelier he held with no hands, and Hogo-o’-Swirls who had been given to cattle-theft until Ysgramor cursed him into indenture (and all Hogo’s children thereafter perceived their inherited cow-thieving tendencies differently unto something like a law), and the proud Jhunal-Giant called Mnegmegh the Banner-Lamp who settled affairs with all foreign and jingoistic winds, and Hbolh, Storm Ninth the Name-Caller, whose lamp was lit in loud recitals, and their Crown, Hjal, whose presence will not be explained under the Pact, for that would lessen the names of the Five Hundred by many times, breaking the genesis of eschaton, and not even Fhalj the Carcass-Mouth wanted that, nor hoarse No-Questions Nidhammer Skald, whose job it was to recite the names and deeds of all present to the un-heroed children brought to ride aboardships with their Accounted parents.

Despite the swinging lamps of the karstaags, great horns were often blasted from one boat-caller to another to keep the Row of Succession on their proper bearings, for Ysgramor’s Gathered have always been an unruly lot, even in make-war time. The first names of the Successor Heroes were these: Vagabond Thane of the Pale, who would always upset those in his wake, and his shield-bearers Fghiul-kul, Morhe, Morhema Morhesdotter, Mtel the Mountain, Korlo the Crevice, and Felji-hoom and Hoomfel, and the six banner-brought daughters of Eastmarch, named Felki, Grelk, Swimmer-lock, Snow-braid, Bell-striker Bel, and the Holder-of-Winterhold who was not yet set against her thane, and the Battlemost Brothers Toad-Capped Thendermah and the Eel-Eared Ghronund, and Jehgmire, Hemf the Fielder, and Jirmoug, Tsek, Malfwe, Svndlkoff the Torcless Kyne-Man, Urysmr, Ffirl the White, Vrendl the Fort, Healkmeat and his hawk-mistress Hgajfwen, their daughter Culecha who looked on Hjal when unlooked on herself, which was seldom for she was fine-looking in every known return.

The second names of the Successor Heroes were these: Kilsobrad of All Camps Dunmereth, Djel-the-Diil, whose surname would litter the south, and the four witchmen of Fairhold, Jirlohem, Eloja, Mjolsmar the Smoker, and Hendel Hendson, and once the frontier oars of the blessed longboat Windhelm were broken, sixty-seven souls were given back to Shor’s keeping before their landing was reformed again to rejoin Ysgramor in Skyrim, known in song as Telhm the Master of Oars, Jwamghli-el his Wine-Queen, Felimyz their lamp-lynx, the high lord of the Collegiate Skalds, Kath Markathson, and his professors, Jirfol the Well-Read, Formu of the rangelands still-in-treaty, Ghemjour and Fehjdwhen, Daarban and Fjork-Stag, Silst and Orl the Flea, Brundhel the Sky-Scribe, her husband Greahj the Monk, and their children-in-dream Greah-li, Brundl Brundsfirst, Hgehwen, Jurldhel, and Wendel-light, and Vrandal’s Tongues-in-training, Borthwel the Mace-Biter, Hgul the Weaver, Vhguegel, Naejisl, Neltroon-li, Aald the Candlewick Sweeper, Erris-li, Grunahl the Better, Dlunga the Dwarf (not that kind), Ilthmcnon and his sister lthadnhelda, Rum-Drummer Rselret, Yalj the ark-minded craftsman, Fjaltalo made of marrow, Hjhlet and Gehmor-edda, Ghaldorj the Slave’s Whip, Hoegdi and Dehmwe, Vjalor the Knight who would wait in his metal until thaw, Chejor the Twin-Tricked, given to a grief so bitter that even snow-whales would remove themselves from his passage, and Bjorth and Ghilred and Vhehilda and Jkarle the Stoker, Bhwem-li the Succor-Wife of Khel Kehlerson, who manned reef and sail with a face of sleeted scars, and Olagga and Nemweg and Manwehg, and the eighteen oarsmen in chains: Stehn Skelsgard, Tsun’s-Folly Mjor, Freckled Ben in exile, who knew of Sarthaal only from Herkl the Shield-Fed rowing beside him, and Arjac and Thendlmegh, Freidlgaard, Nodin Nail-Try (whose face was pocked in a semblance of courage which explains his family’s ill fortunes in the Succession), Kjhelknhnel of the Stuttering Tongue, Fjac Welfson, Njacndl Welfson, Hoary Ghonn’s Skeleton, an unfleshed rower who no one questioned under the orders of Alabar Kings-Clever, Braadel and Fdedel, who sat behind the stink of Urlfjir Who-Wolves-Won’t-Eat, and the triplets beloved by Mara Mora’s Wife, Jungarrd, Kjhemger, and Red Relde, who by some contract made these last Heroes even in their chains.

With the loss of the Windhelm, Rebec was given leave by the belt of Ysgramor to send an outrunner beyond the range of the karstaag lamps to scout the sludge channels of the Cape ahead for any more trouble. The Skaal volunteered her crew, who batted their way south-southeasterly into the were-winds of the Tidal Woe. Their Boat-Thane was Korst Wind-Eye, who lusted for Telhm’s Wine-Wife but was too greedy to pay tithe for her Tent-Hand, and perhaps it was this doom that spelled the loss of the whole. They were Ranalduga the Purser, Padj his Glass-Man, Tujenhelf the Clever who made for them all woad-weird against the eye of the Horned Man, Faern Sargtlin who led Korst’s reavers and would forget his place among them all, and Enjaarl and Ighur, and Uora the Witch-Wife of Jarhis (who was sleeping in the ale-ice), Irek the Fanged, Falx the Reefsman, Medoch that watched the moons move awry, and thirty-eight more names whose skins were sent back to the fleet in sacks of hair, and while those names are Accounted it is now only by the howling echoes of lost Hbolhl the Giant, who, after a blight-shaped litany of profanities against Rebec’s haste, abandoned this return in his blood-mourning.

With his brother-in-karstaag gone, Helmbolg took his leave, as well, coughing out the lamps as he did so, for he was beyond anger now and into madness, and Jurg the Calm had to swallow its storms lest even the sun went out in the shouting. The issue of Borgasa, Borgas, ill-omened, the Broken-Born, then called for a reformation of the Pact, and many of the Boat-Thanes came to his side. Ysgramor could have none of it and the Heroes fell on each other as Jurg and his remaining brethren watched, called the Battle of the Guarded Sun. The dead were these, Accounted: King Kjoric and all the crew of the Whiterun, including Felmar of Teed, Gjhul-li, Killimjir, Bori Fehdson, Helmudela the Cult Maiden of the Circling Faith, Eingen the Skald, Rejnrile the Daggerlad, Mehga the Mead-Milker, her brewery-cow Cephor, the Four Nieces of Victory, the Twins of New Teed, Fevorl the Run-Like-Hell, Thistle-Song Slekka and her Tusk-Brother Jhan the Compass, and oarsmen Ghemeldart, Undel Bjem, Bjem the Elder, Corlecain, Nelfast, Svenjerl the Hale, Ghurlik the Stripped of His Cleverness, Broken-Torc Deimdel, Jarrolend and his brother Jardrung, Hammer of Caskets, who left his rowing to reaver topside, spilling the wine-hold of the Gore Use and then shouted it aflame, claiming it and all aboard, Lav Larich her Boat-Thane and his Shield-Wife Briin-Willow, and his Hearth-Wife Nulfaha, and his Orc-Orphans Settle-Down, Behave-Ye-Now, Touch-None-Here, Brought-His-Own-Blanket, and Numc the Number-Man, his three Nieces-of-Snow, their Boar Bristleback that once laid low the offal-army of Hirc, Dorald and his Autumn-Wife Kendral of Falkreath, and the oarsmen Juryl the Hairshirt, Ben Bvdel the Wide, Kjurl “Curly” Mop-Head, Vendr, Solsven, Storenar, Colhe Mehnson, Count Sthedth in exile, Ukil the Whirlpool, Hghenaard, Evanghl Dunson, and Muurldek who won his love at the Totem-Wife Fair of 1E478. Bagpipe-for-a-Back Hjuro-Gul the Giant (Accounted now that he showed, for he had been summoned long before now) rose from the ice and roared the sixty two souls of the Skin-Greed into Shor's domain and was slain in turn by the thooms of the Ten Tongues of the Merkiller. Reavers and archers and shield-biters were crow-bones by the third serpent-month of the battle, including four from Clan Dire, eight Rye Slaves of Ris, Rhoar the Oak, Ghemgaard the Beaked, Skarb the Haunter, two Wind-Wives of South Mereth, seven berserkers of Clan Gant, a thundernach who was granted hearth rights at the thirteenth burning of Sarthaal, eighteen Arrows of the Scrying Eyes Side-Tribe, and three fighting sharks of the King of the Hjaalmarch (who was ravaged by his pets renown when he attempted to hunt alongside them covered in ambergris). The last to die was Borgas himself, written in viscera across the ice by the power shouts of the Lord of the Wulf’s Hart, and no one gave pity when the monsters of the changewinds arrived to claim their bond on the soul of the son of Borgasa. Pyres-in-tribute delayed the return for another month, but the smoke of the kin-strife had sealed the Pact again, if only for now in shame.

It is customary here that the song of return removes the one-hundred and seventy-six dead (or might-as-well-be) from the numbers of the Five Hundred for going to war without Ysgramor’s leave, who have become now Unaccounted (even the Lord of the Wulf’s Heart, who had ended Borgas, and for this he still wishes Skyrim ill). The annual reckoning of the Thirteenth of Sun's Dawn Feast for the Dead allows the skaldsingers to pause for mead and then to hearken the Reinforcements from Sovngarde, sent by Shor himself to replace the traitors, and whose number reset the sum neatly at Jhunal’s delight, for no march of the Sons and Daughters of Kyne can be ever ended. Those ghosts of the Under-Halls came from dust and were Accounted: Dust-Breeches Duadeen the Half-Viri, Kendelmarch his Tear-Wife, Hjorinu and Jerek and Ceth and Khamal (who took sidelong looks his whole life for his name and its association) and Pelek and Gorh and Fjendel their sons, Valmok their Kyne-touched oarsman, Redj the clock-talker, Tmejir and Soorn and Coll the swimmer-shield triplets, and Double-Drums Djorl, and Meghorj Ghorjson Bite-the-mer the Perhaps a Bear (no one really ever asked), and Ysmret and Ysmalijli the sisters in salt, and Rkaak the Cougher (who of course was their scout), and Aedelfalk and Haloch Helsdsooter and Mnelet and Klorgeh and Belmor the Chicken-Legged (true enough) and Maldu the Missile-Whip and Welkydna who somehow knew Aldmeri varliance and Wine-Knived Njnen who, even after being returned, bled from the wounds of his betrayal head to hand to foot, Altmet who after the decline of Winterhold ever after wore shields for boots and thereby suffered an odd gait, and Knedl and Jhoriul the brothers of mace-face violence, and Topal who loved canoes too much and Ut Hal and Ut Haj and Aldier and Versef and Plotinu who ran once with the Pelinal and Attrebal and Ut Harza and Keptak and Klo (the Hudda) and Greydill and Selt and Tso Ut and Sebl-fright and Ald Hatta and Urie-Ut and Vandal Briggs the vandal and Kama-ge and Jori-ge and Ut Ge the Old Get and Tulemeht who ran once with the Pelinal and Hearken-Beak who spoke bird and Klopitu, and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Periff and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif and Perrif their wives and finally Kopro and his wife Perrif (all southerners pressganged into Ysgramor’s service by a tweak in Shor’s breath), and Thumm, and Horaldu, and Haromir, and Kire the weird-looking lyg and Kye her sister (not weird-looking), and Dantreth the Master of Chains beloved, and Daalne and Kljnjaarighu-ru who no one called by name because it was hard to say, and Bjornal and Vjijley and Theyet and Njrethaal and Suthmal and Jjark the jerk and Hgnaak his Suffer-Wife and Fat Falt and Alo their lynx and Jarch and Mnletgh and Uru the Better-Lamplighter and Kjanorr who took a spear in his teeth cursing Merish walking-gods and Kjalpagh the Just How Many Pockets Do You Have and Drohard and Sendolwep and Thumul and Aeru and Telmedh and Yyk the Stipulator and Henharlecain (whose great-great-grandson would become so famous), and Kaejuul who wrote of a sky below us, and Nistro his wife who laughed at that notion, and Bonaal-mer the ill-blooded (for his arteries had been tampered with in the Sack) and Thisris Nail-Tongue who had Drelys speak for him and Jhun-ge the Tailor and Hgmieil their five-membered wolf, and Njork the Tooth-Torc’d, so proud in the bounty he drew from the jaws of Old Mary, and Vrendunsvalla Whose Beard Became A Mountain, and Bahldlu and Engngal and Kolth and Hgdead and Njkirnhal Njkirnhalson and Rum-Loving Seanil the Lit to Here and Takl Taklsun and his sister Kakl who wore wasabi as eyeliner, and Hgjmer and Aesret and Nyaljar Who Wore His Woad On the Inside and Angka whose lips were thorned (she was never getting married, for sure) and Barakal and Farfork and Umtalos and Gnechlet and Hegehel-mo and Haraldu and Ffedl the Favored-of-Kyne, though no one is quite sure how she gained that sobriquet, though some whispered it happened during a card play and no one can really argue with that. (If that’s not exactly one-hundred and seventy-six names it’s because I’m drunk and everyone here just yell out your names to make the difference, for you were there as you are here and let Shor’s hole-shadow beleaguer ye not.)

And now the 500 were reunited, and Ysgramor sent the Four-Score ahead to blast the ice with its varlianced prow, and we were beset upon by the Devils we would rule and lose and rule again, but the Boat-Thane was a sacred Tor-Queen, her skirts and hides covered in southern moths, who made manifest in that coming fight with the crow-headed spirits of the Morag. Aboard the Four-Score were these that opposed them (and won): Aol the Oars-Body, who was mainly made of living Atmoran wood and looked a bit like a maniacal puppet but no one cared when things came to needing proper raiding speed, and Ghemel-Huhn his Whittling-Wife (a marriage type that was made solely for their own), and Wuhlnjar the lookout, and Kalo Wuhlson his son whose eyes had been Cleverly replaced by lenses of Dwemer-make, and Apletnoo and Pocne and Dooir the Devil-Bellied, and Pale Pass the snake-fighter, and Ysmanue and Jhethen the siblings who fashioned their beards as Stuhn and Tsun once did, and Hgil who used a ridiculously-large Totem of Kyne as a club, and Baarl who wore a Colovian Arrow-Catcher even though it was dyed yellow, and the Remanites called D’Arleunce and Jean-Piet and Camorleigh and Alexe, and Umjanor and Ralpag and Old Hrolhdar and Mothol Mothsdotter and Galaej peerless in the Voice who yet vowed never to use it, and finally Varoonaal who plucked the poison darts from the body of the King of Cyrod.

With the Morag broken and sent into the eastern slush, we finally caught sight of Snow-Throat, and knew that our journey was near its ending again. It was the World-Eater’s-Waking that broke shore first, Shouting our victory and doom, whose Boat-Thane was Ysmaalithax the Northerly Dragon, his first-clutch-sons Tsuunalinfaxtir and St’unuhaslifafnal, whose Tear-Jills were Vorramaalix, Jarliallisuh, Alleirisughus, and the Dewclaw Widow Who Foreswore Her Name, whose Void-Jills were Eljaalithathisalif Hate-Fire and Ingridaaligu who lost her minutes in the mending, and Mjaariliaalunax Half-Fire, whose Earth-Jills were none awoke, and whose Aether-Jills were none survived, and whose Magne-Jills were Shanu’ujeneen the Star-Woven and Jaalhngithaax Whose-Name-Stays-in-its-Egg. There were also the twenty-two Thunder-Scaled Jills unbound by time and so served as Ysmaalithax’s oracle-oocytes until the Ald’uin would burn them away: Unaalthiigas, Hriimaalixixigis, Kuujhe’elthilax of the Kalpa of the Orsidoon, Ingriidarligar who used her tailclaw as a song, Faajoorliidovahilagar, Ma’aheemi, Sorress’lilargus, Ansahaalifar whose gigantic feathered-crown was stripped from a Dawn Goddess that was eaten before she could fully congeal, Khelsadaalix and Akheelaalix who traded heads daily out of some geas, Vemmaabilthax, Borgaasaalthoom, Nuum’hyetthex, Vashuunaliasthoom, Fraalxshildadoon, Daahnaarlilagus, Mehemeem’yetthex Aththoommua who held secret syllables “unneeded yet”, and their five eldest, called the Five Eldest of the Thunder-Scaled Jills. There were also Ysmaalithax’s ten Shed-Uncles, whose names cannot be heard in the language of Men. There were his Clutch-Nephews, Khaalthaheelodoon the Jill-or-Drake (this one was more his pet than descendent, but Ysmaalithax was expressive and endless), Aalabarliggus the Oddly-Colored (his personal Shout Holder by neck-blood), Hegmaaligus the Mute, and Basdsdajurlahnaor who Shouted Enough to Give Hegmaaligus His Leave. There were his Nieces-of-Clock, Teeablalidoon the Mute, Mabaanaalix the Mute, Feehuugfe’hg the Mute, and Tsjaarlilargus their Chorus. There were his shed skins of renown, the Hell-Bellows Ghost, the Rabid-Thought, Heimnelraaliagus the Regular Thought, Pelinaalilargus the Pragmatist, Fefmem and Gemalleir, the two-headed rhetoric, Dyssle’vehb the Stoic Shout, whose dewclaws were adorned in numantia-scratch, Gremmelfellixl the Elenchus, Haa’gmmel the Logoi, Febhraadrnaalis the Trivium, and Ysmaalthoom the Arête. Of those Nords that stepped back onto Skyrim from the World-Eater’s-Waking there were these among the Five Hundred, but Ysmaalithax counted that the first was his destroyer, Ysgramor the Returned.

Nu-Mantia Intercept

Author: 
Nu-Hatta

By secret glyph: dreamsleeve transmission
Dreamsleeve: urgent, security protocols granted
Security protocols: Sphinxmoth ancestor wraithbone wards

To Chancellor Ocato, in mastery! In triumph! In absolute moral good!

Forgive my direct sending, Chancellor, and know that I do this with the respect of every ancestor in my beard, but Grandmaster Jauffre has never responded to previous efforts to warn Empire Actual of the findings of the Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree. I admit that these warnings may have been too esoteric to merit the attention they deserve.

In short, the Barrier is weakening, and I know why. Moreso, I have uncovered a conspiracy that stretches back to Dawntime and the split of Aldmeris. Empire Actual is threatened by forces of previous realities, and the Ayleids are not destroyed at all.

The moths closest to my ears and lips once served under Belharza the Bull during their corporeal stage. You know thereby the extent of my allegiance. Please give me permission to heard at the Elder Council, even if only by Ducal memo-spore.

Yours under the Red Diamond,

Nu-Hatta


Brother Nu-Hatta,

Yes. I recall your reports. Jauffre passed them up the channels. An interesting theory, but there was nothing there that we could act upon. Shadowy empire-spanning conspiracies? With all due respect to your eminent communicants, neither the Elder Scrolls nor the ancestor moths have ever provided us with much practical information. After the fact, yes, the prophecies always make sense then. Historians and scholars make their careers on such things.

But my business is the government of the Empire in the here and now, with a multitude of problems and dangers that are all too clear. I do not mean to be dismissive; give me something concrete, and you will see us act.

I remain,

Ocato of Firsthold, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage, etc. etc.

 

By secret glyph: dreamsleeve transmission
Dreamsleeve: urgent, security protocols granted
Security protocols: Sphinxmoth ancestor wraithbone wards

Firsthold is too kind.

"Then will mighty Akatosh reply, wherein the petitioner must be demand full freedom! To speak in the fires of time is to render the speaker a subject of the matron Jills, those servants of the Dragon that mend minutes without volunteer. Only through freedom can true words remain untouched."

My reports shall follow. I assume we move now to scrying by the Elders?

Yours under the Red Diamond,

Nu-Hatta


Brother Nu-Hatta,

Yes, very well. I don't know that the full Council will find your use of the dreamsleeve justified, but I leave that to you.

Ocato

 

Members of the Elder Council,

Forgive the brash medium through which this comes to you, but read by its stamp that Ocato has given the smallest of consent. Know too that the Cult of the Ancestor-Moth submits fully to the Council in all things, as it has done since Edict 18.x2n.3E2IS, even though the allegations of such legislature as being Simulacrum Terminatus is still in review.

Scholarship on the subject of the metaphysical Tower is at an all-time high. Not since the Selective have we seen so much dangerous interest in the shezzarite power-symbols. Do any here think this an accident? That such work is not influenced by doppeldream and unlawful messaging? Do any here think this is not the work of the Tharnatos and his sleepers?

The fall of Red Tower should not be seen as the suave conquest of Cyrodiil's agencies, for we have been tricked again by the Dagonites. Though through long eras the chimerical landgods have subverted Divine rule, their protection of the First Stone should have remained as it was: the ironic protection of our enemies to our Enemy.

The Towers of the terrestrial plane have had their histories cloaked in lies and misinterpretations. That the lands they hold dominion over reverberate with troubles now in east and west should give common consent that they are reacting to an Empire-wide attention, sublunar and on dread purpose.

By the implications of my introductory comments alone, I realize that some on the Council may wish to exercise their right of admonishment or call of silence. I withdraw the spore at this time to hear these; otherwise I shall proceed.


Proceed, by all means.

Though the Council may have the power to silence me, they can not enforce deafness. I am unable to confute the topic at hand in my sterile state.

Feeble and counterproductive am I in my position handed down by the Council.

Divayth Fyr

 

The beginnings of our present problem go back to the Merethic Era.

...

I hear rumblings of protest already. Please, let me assure you I shall abide by Council measure and present my findings in the accepted quadragraph form of old: metaphysical root, historical lessonates, present threat assessment, and assumption of enemy maneuvers. All Elders who wish to enter trance-state may do so now.

Aldmeris split during the Dawn, but as in all things then, these fractures enjoyed quasi-temporal amendments. Sometimes the Island of Start was with us, othertimes not or not of a whole, close as it was to spirit actual.

The Jills did not have their full powers; rather, I should say, all the mundex spirits had every power at every time amendment at every ordering, which is to say none of them could ever fully express; our world was young and so were its architect gods.

The next is known to all of us in different ways, and the impossibility of the Dawn lends all of these memories credence. I speak of the Ur-Tower, Adamantine, anon Direnni, and of its creation and purpose.

Auriel-that-is-Akatosh returned to Mundex Arena from his dominion planet, signaling all Aedra to convene at a static meeting that would last outside of aurbic time. His sleek and silver vessel became a spike into the changing earth and the glimmerwinds of its impact warned any spirit that entered aura with it would become recorded-- that by consent of presence their actions here would last of a period unassailable, and would be so whatever might come later to these spirits, even if they rejoined the aether or succumbed willingly or by treachery to a sithite erasure. Thus could the Aedra and their cohorts truly covene in realness.

Our forebears saw the erection of Ada-mantia, Ur-Tower, and the Zero Stone. Let the Elders acknowledge this truth: every Tower bears its Stone. The impossipoint of the Convention was the first, though another bears the true title of First Stone.

Because we are finally a pantheosophic assembly, I will not dictate whether Lorkhan was judged sacred or profane or transcendent at the Convention. My brothers at the Temple of the One may call a recess after my first graph to discuss this on the tertiary sense-gradient; sametime tendril-argument is encouraged by the Moth. It is my primary intention to show the echo effect of Ada-mantia and why it will eventually trouble Emperor Actual. I can only do this by telling the story of First Stone without causal debate.

"Aad semblio impera, dela can carpio semblex."

By these words I intone the many-headed language of the Ehlnofey. The phrase-meanings can be both "as in the image of the kings become the hearts of their shadows" and "the shadows in kingly hearts are images of as", where "as" is meant in the sheathe of an ur word.

The outcome of the Convention was to leave the terrestrial sphere in their excess, for its own good, but that it should last after their departure as in the semblance of the Ada-mantia. Mundus was given its second Tower, the Red, whose First Stone was the Heart of the World, "as in the image."

Time began to last in stepped-fashion. Those spirits that remained, lesser and greater, involuntary or eventual earthbone, surrendered all definite hold on divinity. Aldmeris bore witness and built the remaining towers during the Merethic: White-Gold, Crystal-like-Law, Orichalc, Green-Sap, Walk-Brass, Snow Throat, and on and on, "aad semblio impera."

We come to the first shaper-peoples and the historical lessonates, wherein most reversed in enmity, error, or awe what already existed in both meanings at once: "Aad semblio impera, dela can carpio semblex." What happens when one reverses an inversion; moreso, does so in the living day?

We come to the point where Oblivion first troubled our new earth.

 

Council members, haste trumps ceremony. I trust that the learned may differentiate between the Tower of metaphysics and the Towers of History.

Let us begin the lessonates.

What are the Towers?

They are magical and physical echoes of the Ur-Tower, Ada-mantia. Ada-mantia was the first spike of unassailable reality in the Dawn, otherwise called the Zero Stone. The powers at Ada-mantia were able to determine through this Stone the spread of creation and their parts in it.

The powers also created Red Tower and the First Stone. This allowed the Mundus to exist without the full presence of the divine. In this way, the powers of Ada-mantia granted the Mundus a special kind of divinity, which is called NIRN, the consequence of variable fate.

After these two acts, which is commonly called the Convention, the gods left the earth.

As they were the most powerful of lesser spirits in the ages after the Convention and eager to emulate what they saw, the Aldmer began construction of their own towers. That they built more than one shows you that they were not of one mind.

The Aldmer began to split along cultural lines, on how best to spread creation and their parts in it. Each Tower that was built exemplified a separate accordance.

This sundering of purpose is the myth of the "destruction of Aldmeris." Outside of the Dawn, and even then only in the dreamtime of its landscape, there was never a terrestrial homeland of the Elves. "Old Ehlnofey" is a magical ideal of mixed memories of the Dawn.

Do not believe the written histories.

All mortal life started on the starry heart of Dawn's beauty, Tamriel.


If we are in haste, why are we being lectured about the metaphysical meaning of Tower in ancient Aldmeris theology? I will have my adjutant inform me if anything of substance is revealed here. I suggest the rest of the Council do likewise. We have matters of real import to discuss with the Emperor today.

Ocato


I will second the Chancellor, though he needs none.

If the gentleman surrounded by moths would please move on to the present threat assessment phase of his quadragraph....

Hasphat Antabolis

 

Before I proceed, let it be known that I abide by the Council's wish to move the quadragraph further along. I rescind memo-spore lessonate sendings IV-IX from the dreamsleeve. They are become un-present at this session.

I take my right to present two more, however, as under the Invocation of the Invisible Gate.

 

What are the Stones?

The Stones are magical and physical echoes of the Zero Stone, by which a Tower might focus its energy to mold creation. Oftentimes, the Stones borrowed surplus creation from Oblivion, grafting it to the terrestrial domain of its anointed Tower.

It was and is difficult to bypass Oblivion to go directly to creation's source, the Aetherius. It has been done, but not without great expenditure, mundane and otherwise. However, access to Oblivion, the Void that surrounds Mundex Arena, which we might touch every night, was child's play in comparison.

Cultivating creatia that washed into the Void from Aetherius became the rule among Stones.

The Daedric Realms were formed on much the same principle: padomaic powers using aetherial refuse to build their void-territories. The Towers built on the Mundus, since the lands around them congealed in the absence of the gods, were unable to match the capriciousness of the Lords of Misrule.

Sometimes.

The Elves were dividing; some, like the Altmer, did their best to advocate "the will of Anuiel" and so embraced the chrysalis of the Convention; others, like the Chimer, refuted all orderings and aedric measures, following their prophet to "the Stone that is not a Stone that is." The most nefarious Tower, Walk-Brass, refuted even more, refuting unto dis-creation, but we shall come to its role in the present danger to Emperor Actual in a moment. It is but a lesser pawn to the greater evil:

The Tower of White-Gold, whose Stone is Chim-el Adabal, Amulet of Kings, whose masters are returning. I speak of course of the Ayleids, for which "sometimes" was not good enough.

What is White-Gold Tower?

Like all of the polydox constructs of the earliest Aldmer-- whatever their abnegaurbic creed-- White-Gold Tower is a conduit of creatia, aad sembia sembio, built to bring about a reversal of the congealing spiritual bleed caused by the Convention. In other words, it was a focus point for (re-)reaching the divine.

White-Gold Tower was made by the Ayleids, the Heartland High Elves that would have none to do with their isle-kind. Where the Altmer sought to focus on dracochrysalis, or keeping elder magic bound before it could change into something lesser (and act which ironically required aetherial surplus), the Ayleids harvested castaway creatia from Oblivion by entering a pact with the masters of the Void, the Princes of Misrule.

***

Gypsy Moth dustmemore insert - it should be noted here that it is always foolish to think of whole races sharing like minds. "Ayleid" is as much a metaphysical designation as it is a cultural one. Just like the earliest Chimer who orphaned themselves from the Velothi Exodites, but remain Chimer today, large numbers of Ayleids showed more interest in the immediate earthly needs of agriculture rather than the magical needs of concept-farming. This distinction becomes important later, when "Ayleid" begins to designate other, and ofttimes foreign, agencies.

***

Every dawnmaker Tower takes a myth-form. Red Tower is a volcano and its surrounds. Snow Throat a mountain whose apex is only half here. Walk-Brass is appropriately ambulatory, and (most of the time) anthropomorphic. The Aldmeri polydoxes were cosminachs, and the White-Gold project was and is no different.

Though the Ayleids gave theirs a central Spire as the imago of Ada-mantia, the whole of the polydox resembled the Wheel, with eight lesser towers forming a ring around their primus. To dismiss this mythitecture as being a mockery of the Aurbis is to ignore an important point: this same "jest" gave White-Gold Tower a power over creatia unalike any on this plane(t). It was a triumph of sympathetic megafetish, and the Start of the [Threat! To! Empire!] that brings me to this Council.

If the Ayleids made their own Wheel within the Wheel, were-web aad semblio, what would happen if they plucked its strings?

 

Nu-Hatta of the Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree

Author: 
Michael Kirkbride

Well, I tried to help. Here's Nu-Hatta of the Sphinxmoth Inquiry Tree and his somewhat edited response:

"Hnnnh. Critical subplex inquest: divine roster, supermundus physiotype."

Tiber Septim: "The Stormcrown manted by way of the fourth: the steps of the dead. Mantling and incarnation are separate roads; do not mistake this. The latter is built from the cobbles of drawn-bone destiny. The former: walk like them until they must walk like you. This is the death children bring as the Sons of Hora."

Arkay: "Lies from a previous age."

King of Worms: "The Jills of Aka-tosh have mended this numidition. Mannimarco remains as he was: the high priest of maggots."

Almalexia: "Hnnnh. Kyne and Mara and Dibella and sixteen Daedric elements: all contributed to the snake-faced queen when she touched the drum. Their sum? A Beauty Cala as none have seen. Cala! Wetness of Kingdom!"

Sotha Sil: "...incalculable."

Vivec: "Arenotelicon."

Dagoth Ur: "Sharmat. Dream-sleeved inversion, where the Biters live, he brought them here, pawn of the Aggregate."

Nerevarine: "Pantheon by incarnation, as all alive now know."

MK:

Below are the proposed categories by which to measure these divinities. I think most of them lead falsely to a silly DnD number-crunching mechanism of Who’s Cooler, so I’ll ignore them for now. After all, gods are beyond our ken, even though it is us who are their true parents.

- Origin as a mortal
- Divine Acquisition
- Divine Level (standing against the Aedra & daedra & other god-heroes)
- Lifespan

MK:

"A 'jill' is an archaic term for a female dragon. The minute-menders would take on a suitably draconic form."