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mehrunes dagon

Varieties of Daedra

Aranea Drethan

Varieties Of Daedra

Aranea Drethan
Healer and Dissident Priest

There is little chance of our ever understanding the various orders of Daedra and their relationships to the Daedra Lords and their dominions. Of the varieties of Daedra that appear in our world, and the varieties of their relationships to their fellows and their Daedra patrons, there is no end. In one place and time they are seen to be this, and in another place and time they are seen to be the opposite, and in another place and time they are seen to be both this and that, in completely contradictory terms.

What Daedra serves this Prince? What Daedra gives orders, and what Daedra serves, and in what hierarchy, and under what circumstances? What Daedra exist in fellowship with one another, and what Daedra have eternal enmity to one another, and what Daedra are solitary, or social, and by turns solitary or social? There are no limits to the varieties of behaviors that may be observed, and in one place they may be this, and in another place they may that, and all rules describing them are always found to be contradictory and in exception to others.

Further, from whom may we seek answers to our questions about these orders? From mortals, who know little but what they may observe of another world? From the gods, who speak in riddles, of enigmas wrapped in mysteries, and who keep things from us, the better to preserve their dominion over us? From the Daedra themselves, who are never the models of straightforwardness or truthtelling, but rather are famous for misstatements and obfuscations?

And even were the Daedra to speak the truth, how can we know if they know themselves, or that there is any truth about them that is to be known, or are all arrangements among the Daedra protean and ever subject to change?

In short, what is to be known is little, and and what is to be trusted is nothing.

These things being said, I shall venture to relate what I have observed and heard of the relationships of the servants of Lord Dagon in my brief service to the Telvanni Wizard Divayth Fyr, when I sought him out and offered to bring peace to the victims of corprus in his sanitarium, once the Prophecies of the Incarnate had been fulfilled, and Dagoth Ur had been destroyed, and the Blight had been banished from the island of Vvardenfell forever.

Divayth Fyr told me that he, by choice, trafficked only with two Daedra Powers -- Mehrunes Dagon and Azura.

Azura, he said, knew and understood all things, and declined to speak of these things, or only spoke in riddles.

Mehrunes Dagon, on the other hand, out of pride, fixity of purpose, and a predictable lack of subtlety in thought, knew nothing and understood nothing, and was inclined to speak freely and without falsehood.

Divayth Fyr said that Dagon's chief servants, the Dremora, were like him in pride, fixed purpose, and lack of subtlety, with the addition of the peculiar traits of honor and loyalty, both within their class and within their relationship to Lord Dagon.

And Divayth Fyr said that the Dremora were ordered into clans and castes, and these clans and castes were well-defined. Individual Dremora might rise or fall in ranks, or move back and forth among clans, but only when regulated by complex oaths, and only at the will and pleasure of their Lord Dagon.

The Dremora refer to themselves as 'The Kyn' ('the People'), contrasting themselves to other Daedra, whom they consider unthinking animals. The term 'kynaz' refers to a member of the Dremora race ('he of the Kyn').

The least of kyn castes are the Churls, the undistinguished rabble of the lowest rank of Dremora. Churls are obsequeous to superiors but ferociously cruel to humans and other Daedra.

Next in rank are the Caitiffs, creatures of uncalculating zeal, energy without discrimination. Caitiffs are used as irregulars in the faction wars of the Daedra, as berserkers and shock troops, undisciplined and unreliable, but eager and willing.

The highest of the regular rank-and file of Dremora troops are the Kynvals, warrior-knights who have distinguished themselves in battle, and shown the deliberate steadiness of potential war leaders.

Above the rank and file warriors of the Churl, Caitiff, and Kynval castes are the officer castes.

A Kynreeve is a clan sheriff or clan officer. Kynreeves are typically associated either with a clan fighting unit or an administrative office in the order of battle.

The Kynmarcher is the lord and high officer of a Daedric citadel, outpost, or gate. A Kymarcher's command is usually associated both with a unit and with a 'fief' -- a location or territory for which he is responsible.

Above the Kymarcher is the Markynaz, or 'grand duke'. A Markynaz is a lord of lords, and member of the Markyn, Mehrunes Dagon's Council of Lords.

The highest rank of Dremora is the Valkynaz, or 'prince'. This warrior duke is a member of the Valkyn, Mehrunes Dagon's personal guard. The Valkynaz are rarely encountered on Tamriel; normally they remain by Mehrunes Dagon's side, or serve as commanders of operations of particular importance or interest to Dagon.

Of the varieties of other Daedra I encountered while I served in Divayth Fyr's Corprusarium -- Ogrims and Golden Saints, Daedroths and Winged Twilights, Scamps and Clannfear -- there is much that might be said, but little that is helpful or reliable.

I did note, however, that when Divayth Fyr sought a Daedra of a character like unto the Dremora, but of greater power, and greater inclination for independence and initiative, or solely as a master, he summoned Xivilai, who are like the Dremora in personality and temperment, except that they hate subordination, and are liable to disloyalty and betrayal when they feel they have not been treated with the proper deference and respect.

The feral, beastlike Daedra like the Clannfear and the Daedroth appear in the service of many different Daedric Powers, and may represent common creatures existing like wild animals in the wildernesses of Oblivion. Other savage, semi-intelligent creatures like Scamps and Spider Daedra may also be found in the realms of various Daedra Lords.

The case of the Elemental Atronachs, on the other hand, is less certain. Flame and Frost Atronachs, for example, appear to be highly intelligent, but not all varieties of Elemental Atronachs seem to be social or to have the power of speech. Divayth Fyr preferred not to summon or deal with these creatures, had little experience with them, and showed no inclination to speculate upon their nature, so I learned little about them during my time at Tel Fyr.

Drothan's Field Journal

Frathen Drothan

This room appears to have been built around the original site of the Nefarivigum, but there is no sign of Mehrunes' Razor! There is some sort of statue of a man here, and some scattered inscriptions in the stonework. Perhaps they can give me some clues.

At first I thought the runes were useless, but I was able to piece together a phrase; Kynverum Dagon Nefarivigum. Speaking the words aloud in that order caused the Razor to materialize! Alas, the way to it is blocked, and I dare not risk force lest the gate is trapped. I must search for more clues.

I have discovered more inscriptions, etched as to be nearly imperceivable to my eyes. After much labour I discovered some clues as to the man entombed here. It seems he was a champion to Dagon who failed in some great task.

The Kyn, it says (Dremora?) carved his chest open, through flesh, armor, and bone, with the Razor itself. He stands guard now as a test for those worthy to claim the weapon. What sort of test can this be?

The runes mention the ability of the razor to instantly send a struck foe to Oblivion through Dagons' wrath. This corroborates many tales of the weapon, but can it really be so powerful as to kill instantly?

The task seems so simple, now that I've given it thought. He who travels here, draws the heart from the chest of the champion, and devours it must be worthy to wield the Razor. I'm wary to proceed, and wonder if there is another way, but the power of the blade is so near; I must ponder my next move...

Mehrunes Dagon


Mehrunes Dagon, whose sphere is destruction, change, revolution, energy, and ambition.

Mehrunes Dagon (God of Destruction): Popular Daedric power. He is associated with natural dangers like fire, earthquakes, and floods. In some cultures, though, Dagon is merely a god of bloodshed and betrayal. He is an especially important deity in Morrowind, where he represents its near-inhospitable terrain.
- Varieties of Faith in the Empire

Mehrunes Dagon maintains realms called Deadlands. According to the "Doors of Oblivion", the realms are stormy with dark twisted trees, howling spirits and billowing mist. But from the records during the Oblivion Crisis the realms of Mehrunes Dagon are masses of small fiery realms with lava as sea and fire as the sky. Complete with twisted plants like Blood Grass, poisoned Spiddal Stick and bloodthirsty Harrada Root. The inhabitants are mostly Dremora with some lesser Daedra as their slaves.

The summoning date of Mehrunes Dagon is 20th of Sun's Dusk.

According to "Darkest Darkness", three lesser Daedra are associated with Mehrunes Dagon: the agile and pesky Scamp, the ferocious and beast-like Clannfear, and the noble and deadly Dremora. We will talk later in detail about Dremora.

Mehrunes Dagon in DaggerfallMehrunes Dagon in Battlespire

Mehrunes Dagon's statue in MorrowindA statue in Tribunal depicting Mehrunes Dagon fighting AlmalexiaMehrunes Dagon's statue in Oblivion

Mehrunes Dagon is also one of the Dunmeri Four Corners of the House of Troubles. Four Corner of the House of Trouble consists of Molag Bal, Mehrunes Dagon, Malacath and Sheogorath. These Daedric Princes rebelled against the counsel and admonition of the Tribunal, causing great kin strife and confusion among the clans and Great Houses. They are holy in that they serve the role of obstacles during the Testing. Through time they have sometimes become associated with local enemies, like the Nords, Akaviri, or Mountain Orcs. As written in the "The House of Troubles", Mehrunes Dagon is the god of destruction. He is associated with natural dangers like fire, earthquakes, and floods. To some he represents the inhospitable land of Morrowind. He tests the Dunmer will to survive and persevere.

In the series of books titled "2920, The Last Year of the First Era", Lord Sotha Sil visited Coldharbour, following the destruction of the city of Gilverdale in Valenwood by Molag Bal. He made a deal with eight of the more prominent Daedric Princes. Azura, Boethiah, Herma-Mora, Hircine, Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal and Sheogorath. The term of the deal is that during the war between Morrowind and Cyrodiil, the Daedric Princes should not accept any summon by mortal, unless it was done by witches or sorcerers.

However, a former spymaster of Vivec managed to summon Mehrunes Dagon by fueling the rage of a witch of the Skeffington Coven in High Rock. The witch wanted to take revenge upon the Duke of Morrowind, while the spymaster just wanted to see Morrowind suffered after what Vivec had done to him. Mehrunes Dagon overdid and destroyed the capital of Morrowind, Mournhold. The invasion of the city of Mournhold by Mehrunes Dagon is one of the most terrible destructions ever recorded by the historians. Although Mehrunes Dagon was eventually banished back to Oblivion by a joined effort of Almalexia and Sotha Sil, Mournhold had been totally destroyed, and the Duke of Morrowind was slain. A new city is constructed right atop the ruins of the destroyed Mournhold.

During the Imperial Simulacrum, Jagar Tharn dealt with Mehrunes Dagon. Mehrunes Dagon then assaulted the Battlespire, a proving ground and bastion of the Imperial Battlemages. Tharn had to destroy the Imperial Battlemages to smoothen his rule over Tamriel on Uriel Septim VII seat. However, the Prince of Destruction had a hidden agenda - he wanted to invade Tamriel. Since the Prince and his Daedric army cannot cross the realities directly, he conquered and used multiple pocket dimensions and the Battlespire (the final gateway) as the steps to the mortal realm. One of the invaded realms is Shade Perilous, one of the realms of Daedric Prince Nocturnal. Two Nocturnal's lieutenants, Deyanira Katrece and Jaciel Morgen were severely suffered by the invasion of Mehrunes Dagon.

Although the Battlespire had fallen; but an unknown hero managed to banish Mehrunes Dagon to Oblivion. The hero used Mehrunes Dagon's protonymic and neonymic; and then hit the Prince with the Daedric Broadsword of the Moon Reiver. The Broadsword of Moon Reiver is an artifact of great power that was personally forged from Mehrunes Dagon's own essence. With this action, Mehrunes Dagon's anchor to the mortal realm was severed and he was banished to Oblivion. The Battlespire itself was destroyed after the banishment of Mehrunes Dagon, due to the magicka anchors that supporting the floating citadel were also severed. More information on this issue can be found in The Story of Battlespire.

Another artifact that worth noted in this period of chaos is the Daedric Crescent Blade. These blades were used in the invasion of Battlespire by Mehrunes Dagon's army. After the event though, the Septim Dynasty declares this weapon illegal, and thus makes the blade highly prized among the collectors.

Other famous artifact of Mehrunes Dagon is Mehrunes' Razor. This mythical artifact is capable of slaying any creature instantly. This blade is highly prized among the assassins. The Hero of Daggerfall once was rewarded by Mehrunes Dagon after his service of eliminating a troublesome Frost Daedra. Decades later, the blade was recovered in the bad condition by the Nerevarine, and then Mehrunes Dagon in his shrine of Yasamiddan, restored the blade to its former glory. Detail conversation of the event can be read here.

In the south Cyrodiil, there exists the Nefarivigum, a foul construct of Mehrunes Dagon, was erected to be ever watchful for the pilgrim who would approach it and best an unknown trial of worth. It is said that such a pilgrim would be rewarded with the blessing of Mehrunes Razor. It seems that the construct is able to retrieve the razor from its current owner, and give it to the pilgrim that finished the trial. The Ayleids tried to prevent the blade to be released; therefore they erected Varsa Baalim, a city that surrounded the Nefarivigum. After so many years the city stood strong, some unfortunate events occurred, and the city were destroyed and lost from the history.

Some decades after the destruction of Battlespire, in 3E 433, Mythic Dawn, a cult of Mehrunes Dagon worshipper, managed to assassinate the Emperor Uriel Septim VII and the royal family of the Septim Dynasty. This started the event called the Oblivion Crisis. It is a period of time when the force of Oblivion under the lead of Mehrunes Dagon invaded Tamriel, with the assistance of the Mythic Dawn cult. The Gates of Oblivion appeared everywhere throughout Tamriel.

Brother Martin, a monk under the service of Akatosh in Kvatch, which is in fact a direct descendant of Uriel Septim VII, after being convinced by the Champion of Cyrodiil tried to prevent the fall of the mortal realm to Mehrunes Dagon. The Champion of Cyrodiil helped him recovering the Amulet of Kings and slain Mankar Camoran, the leader of the Mythic Dawn cult. However, when Martin was in his way to relight the Dragonfire to reseal the covenant made by Queen Alessia back in the First Era, Mehrunes Dagon and his minions had managed to cross the border between realities and invaded the Imperial City. Martin sacrificed himself while breaking the Amulet of Kings. This action summoned Akatosh. The Chief of the Aedra and the Daedra of Destruction clashed!

The titanic battle ended when Akatosh defeated and banished the Prince of Destruction back to Oblivion. Then Akatosh sealed the barrier between realities so that the Daedra will not be able to invade anymore. Alas, the last descendant of the Septim is no more; the Cyrodiil Empire has no Emperor. The future for the third Empire of Men is bleak.

Sometime during the Oblivion Crisis, Frathen Drothan, a rogue Telvanni tried to retrieve the blade in order to support his rebellion against the Imperial. He found the ruin of Varsa Baalim, and eventually he reached Nefarivigum, however the Champion of Cyrodiil thwarted his evil and retrieved the blade for himself.

Mysterium Xarxes

Mehrunes Dagon

 Mysterium Xarxes, page 1

Mysterium Xarxes, page 2

Tal Marog Ker's Researches

Tal Marog Ker

Harvest's End, 3E 172

Chimere, Master Sorcerer, Summoner, and Direnni retainer:

Chimere Graegyn was a retainer of the ambitious Direnni clan. The Direnni derived the bulk of their power from their traffickings with Daedra, a very profitable but risky path to success. Chimere was perhaps the cleverest and most ambitious of the Direnni summoners. He dared to scheme against Lord Dagon, and won. When his trick succeeded, Dagon was cast into Oblivion. However, in the instant of his betrayal, Dagon struck out against the mortal who tricked him. Chimere's pact assured that he would live forever in his home town among the happy voices of his friends and countrymen. Twisting the literal words of Chimere's pact, Dagon scooped up tiny Caecilly Island (a small island off the coast of Northmoor) and hurled in into the void. All Chimere's friends and countrymen were instantly killed, though the sounds of their voices remained to torment Chimere's memory. Chimere was condemned to live forever, to grow progressively old and crippled with arthritis, and to contemplate the tragic consequences of his defiance of fate and fortune in cheating a Daedra Lord.

Armor of the Saviour's Hide:

Created by the Daedra Lord Malacath, this armor has the marvelous property of turning the blow of an oathbreaker. Chimere tricked Dagon into swearing an oath against the Powers which he had no intention of keeping. The Hide of the Savior turned Dagon's titanic fury long enough for Chimere to deliver his own attack -- an incantation invoked upon Dagon's "Protonymic" (i.e., Incantory True Name). Unfortunately, like many of Malacath's gifts, the armor is a mixed blessing. It also makes its wearer exceptionally vulnerable to magical attacks, so one should only wear it for particular occasions.

Dagon's Protonymic:

Chimere used Dagon's Protonymic in an incantation to invoke a sorcery that would gradually drain all of Dagon's power into the void. Chimere miscalculated, however, not realizing that Dagon's resistance could slow the draining of his power, even if it could not stop it. As a result, Dagon had the time to curse Chimere with a literal fulfillment of the terms of his bargain with Chimere. Rather than let his power drain into the void, Dagon cast it all into his curse. As a result, Caecilly Island was cast into the void, all its citizens were horribly slain, and Chimere was condemned to live forever among the ruins of his greatest ambition.

Rituals of the Hunt:

The Chapel of the Innocent Quarry: Chimere believes that Dagon had Caecilly Island established as the site of the Chapel of the Innocent Quarry to personally mock and torment Chimere. The green crystal structure was created by enchantments, and is the only building on the island erected since it was ripped from Tamriel and loosed in the void.

The Spear:

Supposedly the Spear of Bitter Mercy used in the Wild Hunts could not be handled by any mortal or immortal save the ones sanctified to the Hunt and bound by its strictures. However, Chimere has determined that though the Spear's power is great, it is not unlimited, and that certain enchanted items -- for instance, the Armor of the Savior's Hide, forged by Malacath -- are sufficient to protect a mortal or immortal bearer from its maleficent energies.

Fight Six, "The 911th Cow"

Michael Kirkbride

These [were the days] of Anna Kuhlsdotter, who once led her cloud-sisters into victorious war against the Skald of Broken Books....

And of the Giants we speak little, even less to strangers, for their history is hidden in long loud power-shouts. At home, it is a pain in the ass to tell their stories and then clean all the things knocked down in the telling... and in a foreign hearth it is [just plain rude]. So we speak of them (for we must-- who does not honor their parents?) under the rim of the sky or, here, written on sheafs of pelt, for such is the mettle of their threat. This is [a song (or dirge, manuscript unclear)], then, of the threat of Giants and, like most, it involves painted cows.

[First, though] let us put two Powers in place, the Dragon and the Dagon, for this is also and foremost a Fight of Theirs Story [so such is proper]... [text lost]... the only one to have occurred on the Demon King's birthday. (No, that inglorious day-month will not be revealed here for it is dangerous and, yes, once, a very long time ago-- ONCE-- we were all tricked into celebrating it in a very big sissy-fuss where we were made to wear special hats.)

Dagon [it can be surmised] found some indefatigable lady-man wizard from the west to love him from [topside(?)] and thus-by work very, very hard in his witch-craft... [the demon lord] making warlock promises and whispering rewards of the unspeakable and mighty... appearing through shade or familiar in guises too small for the Dragon to notice that he was not in his entirety in [the oblivion] where he had been banished beforetimes... and perhaps happy (because birthdays ARE happy) and infectious with it enough to engender great industry, yet profane still in aspect to retain his stature among the eyes of the wicked from whence his followers always come (when they do not come from fools instead).

[And the warlock-in-love]... [text lost]... made a mad dance of it all as in the manner of the magic arts of the west [and] summoned his infernal master on this very auspicious day through crazed and love-wrought wizardry [that went beyond the mandate] of right summonings... whereupon the Dagon popped out of a blueberry pie.

"I didn't think that would work AT ALL!" he said, that old Lord of Misrule, and he began to praise the baker's craft in such great cackle and length that [the warlock he had taken as paramour] became jealous in the way of wolf-headed women (you know the ones).

"Pssh," Dagon said, "I, the Lord of Razors and Red-drink, King of Terrible Intent, Mehrunes the Prince of Four Dooms and One Paradise, I Who Commandeth 88 Legions Daedric... I just came out of a PIE, you swooning harpy! That is totally bat-*** insane!"

Whereafter he bit out the neck of the spurned warlock and played in the blood.

(This is why all bakeries in our village make "Shake the Dagon Out" part of their flour-whistling.)

Now the Dragon's role here is more subtle, and existed really only in the fear of a little farm girl in the highlands of Newkreath. For who does not fear Alduin the World Eater, and especially children, who always think they are the last to come for they are the newest to be? (And children, BEING special, perhaps are right and maybe it is only through their fears that [this kalpa] still survives, so we will not question it.)

Anyhow, her name was Aless (her father was fond of the South, and Ald Cyrod, and knew the stories of their famous and ancient Queen), and she had such a fear that any day now the Dragon would awake to eat up everything she ever knew that she became determined to do all she could [to protect it]. Naturally, she began to paint many, many cows.

Here is why: the Giants came from Old Atmora, up there across the Northern Ice back in the gone-to-twilight-now age of myth... and settled here in the Skyrim, and all along the mountain ranges of our coasts. (Yes, they are our true ancestors-- do not believe your aunt from the university-- and, yes, we were once as big as them-- as tall as THIS-- but that is another story)... [text lost]... and after [the Great Calamity] happened [the clan-things (peoples? tribes? Text seems to indicate mankind as a whole, though that is debateable)]... we were of a kind disrupted... and we Nords fell into fighting and drove our Giant-kin up unto the mountaintops [and we were a wicked-folk for many years]... [until all] things had changed forever. Once the Moot resumed [(unspecified) years later] things got back to a new semblance of normalcy and borders were redrawn and agreed with in beer-talk, and raidings of the merethlands took everyone's mind off old feuds, and pretty soon (well, not pretty soon but whatever) the Giants began to come down from the mountains again. And they were a bit different than we Nords remembered, or perhaps we had forgotten much, but they would not speak to us anymore-- they would only smile in their lazy way, stomp over, and take our stuff.

If we fought them, they roared louder than the Tongues of High Hrothgar, and brave steads would be blasted whole into so much paste, [chickens and all (?)]... [and] eventually we learned that if we left stuff out for the Giants, and painted this stuff brightly and with swirls (they love swirls) and stuck big signs up pointing to it all, they would simply take THAT stuff and not anything else and no fighting would be have to be done (not that what I have described was really fighting-- no one fights the Giants is the point). And that explains the Painting The Cows tradition, for as lazily-smiled as they are, so much that they seem that they wouldn't hurt a soul (ha!), the Giants eat meat and lots of it. Aless (remember her still?) thought to herself, "I am so, so afraid the Dragon will awake and eat the world-- ANY DAY NOW-- that I will paint every cow I see so as to summon all the Giants I can to beat up old Scaly Face, and beat him up really, really hard-- hard enough to knock him out and back to sleep!" (Aless had heard, as you have now, that "no one fights the Giants" and took it a little bit too much to heart.)

She began with her stead's herd, some four-dozens strong [with] two bulls (the old one broken off in a separate cattle-gate to stomp out his last days in complaint-- and Aless made her father swear not to kill this old bull for she loved him in the way children love the things others see as useless or spent) ...and yet by the seventh cow Aless had run out of paint. "I shouldn't have done so many swirls," she said, sighing. And that is when he appeared, the Dagon, drawn up in the stolen Nordskin of a Clever Man, come from the west by side-stepping [through the real].

"No," he said through his impressive bead-knit beard, "You did well. If I were a giant, these would be mighty fine looking cows to take. But why paint so many? [One a season per stead] is the norm."

Aless frowned up at Dagon-turned-Clever, and with no suspicion, for she was a child and they are taught to respect our [magic-men]. "Because I hate the Dragon," she admitted, immediately fearing admonishment. (It is not very wise to talk ill of Alduin at any time, especially in the presence of the Very, Very Wise.) She corrected herself: "Well, more like I hate the fear of him. I'm sorry for saying the thing before."

"Hmm," Dagon said, "Your fear is well-founded. The Time Eater comes soon."

"WHAT I SO KNEW IT" Aless said, grabbing her paint buckets and brushes [in a scramble], intent on going back to her hearth to get her play-dolls and kid-shields to sell them for more supplies. "I gotta go, mister, I need to summon the Giants REAL FAST and A BUNCH."

"Child," Dagon laughed, "You will never paint so many as that, given your little power. But, aye, your plan is a good one. Many Giants, really fast. Yes. That's smart. Now come with me. Kyne--" and at this name of the Sacred, the demon almost choked, "--she lends me the winds and I can walk us from one to another. And Tsun--" and at this Name Dagon finally did choke, coughing harshly but hiding it as age, "--he grants my craft-wit with provisions from the aether. You will have all the paint you need, and be swift enough to swirl every cow from here to Windhelm."

"That is SO cool!" Aless said, jumping. But by speaking of so many Gods [and the Heavenly Halls in which they live], Dagon had brought a horrible scratch to his throat. He coughed again, and at length, finally doubling over. Aless frowned again, this time with what looked like pity, and put her hand on his back. "You okay, mister? I believe you about all your magic, but maybe you should just rest. I can sell my play-dolls and get paint and just, like, run fast--"

"I'm fine, dear," Dagon said, waving her off, too harshly, and then [realizing he was frightful] found a composure, "And I am sorry myself for scaring you just then. It is only because I can feel the Age turning, and so am sick with the impending death of the World."

"Um," Aless said. "You're still being scary."

"Then paint the rest of these and let us move. You are brave, and worthy, but cannot run so fast as we need. We have cows to swirl and Giants to bring down from the mountains. Through their might only can we make the Dragon retreat back into slumber and thereby save all that we know." And soon then did the Dagon and the girl step into a wind [and disappear].

[Now] it can be guessed that Dagon was a lying sack of ****-- the Dragon wasn't coming at all and would be asleep til...[text lost]...which is far from now. But the Lord of Razors has ever hated the North, for it was here that he was born (after a fashion), and it was here he was cursed, and so on this, his birthday, he had determined that he would destroy all of the Skyrim and all the Nords in it. He indeed needed his little cow-painter to draw down the Giants (or maybe it only amused him to use one of our own, we cannot say), and so he [played her fear] for a fouler purpose: he knew that so many Giants come down from the mountains would cause the High King to think it war, and muster. And any war with the Old Fathers would undo us.

Now Dagon-as-Clever did as he said, wind'ng Aless from stead to stead, watching over her as she painted the cows at each, summoning [snow-fogs to hide her quickened labors], from Newkreath to Gant and the Uttering Hills of Jarlmung County, filling her buckets [in fast conjurations] and even blessing each cow in Kyne's name alongside her, coughing each time. By the 400th cow, his beard was hack-stuck [with sickness]. By the 650th cow, he would speak no more names wrought by the Gods. And it was by the 700th cow that the Dagon noticed that Aless was painting the swirls [in a different fashion], to which she explained, "Each county has a different Lookit Me Stamp," and frowning at him she asked, "But you know that, right?"

"Oh, right, right, indeed," he said, "Blame my ailment and our hasty mission. It has left me with a perplextion of the brain. Stamp away!" to which Aless smiled, "No problem, I'm getting tired, too. There, seven hundred and fifty-two! How many do you think we'll need?"

"At least nine hundred and ten," Dagon said, "That is a lucky number." (This is true.) And then they vanished [into the wind] again, coming out into Windhelm, fortress-lands of the High King. "We'd better hurry here," Dagon advised.


"Why what?"

"Why hurry here? You mean more than seven hundred and fifty-two cows in five hours hurry?"

"Um," Dagon said, feigning more sickness, "Because these are the king's cows and we have not the Special Royal Cow Painting Permits, nor the time to explain [the turning of the Age]. The Dragon is coming too soon for parley such as that."

And just as she started swirling these new cows (under cover of snow-curtains and in the shadow of the Thaneswall) Aless asked, "But why doesn't the High King know this already? Doesn't he have Clevermen advisors and Witching Wives to tell him? And the Queen, doesn't she have that six-pair of Scrying Eyestalks of Old Man Mora?"

"Who knows the way of kings and queens, little farm girl," Dagon countered, beginning to lose his temper and seeing now this always-questioning Aless as a turkey-leg in his stomach. But no, he thought, I can wait. [I can wait.]

Aless shrugged, painting the cows in what Dagon assumed was [the manner] of Windhelm now, and saying only, "I guess you're right, mister. But I'm named after a queen, a really pretty one, the books say." And [at this] Aless spoke of South Cyrod and its tales of mereth-kill by Men and heroes sent by the Gods, and Dagon's head began to swim with it, wind to wind and herd to herd in the Windhelmlands with the girl always talking and talking, for the demon hated the [lands of the Aleshut-tribes] nearly as much as our own but for different reasons, and just as he was about to let loose his rage (for that was his Base Nature), Aless spoke up, giggling with victory, "Nine hundred and ten with paint to spare!"

At which point, Dagon thought the deed to be done, and he began to grow fangs behind his beard.

"Holy crap!" Aless said, looking at her paint-covered dress. "We totally forgot the signs!"


"In all of this crazy fast painting, mister, we forgot to stick up the Look Over Here signs! The Giants won't know to come! We really screwed this up!"

Dagon slid his fangs back in, for what she spoke was [true]. He sighed, "Yes. The signs. Totally forgot them. Crap."

"Tell you what," Aless said, "Take me back home. We can grab the signs I've made there and you can Tsun-them-up and make more and zip everywhere we've been to everywhere ELSE we've been putting them all up. And meanwhile I'll paint ONE MORE COW to make it nine hundred and ELEVEN. That's gotta be luckier than lucky, right?"

Dagon-as-Clever now frowned, for he wanted war soon, and said, "I suppose so. Really, what's one more cow going to hurt?" And [they stepped back] through the wind to Aless' own stead, whereupon she ran to the sign-sheds and retrieved as many as she could carry, dumping them nearly on Dagon's foot. Oh by the sixteen hells I'm going to eat this dumb girl, he thought, with WASABI! But he picked up the Look Over Heres and multiplied them unto a bigger bundle, shouldering them all.

"Night is falling fast, mister, you better hurry!"

And Dagon faded into the winds, dizzy with his plannings and smirkings and thinkings, stamping sign after sign at each herd of cows from Newkreath to Windhelm and all the places between, wishing himself another warlock-bite for all this trouble, finally growing out his four arms to make the goings-on faster, wind-step to sign-post, dreaming of [a tide] of Giants come down from the peaks of Skyrim to blast the Northmen away for all time, and time it was he lost track of, until he finally arrived back at the stead of Aless the Dragon Hater.

"Hi," she said, seeing Dagon's true form, "You totally forgot we painted every cow here at the beginning of all of this, you big dummy. So I painted this old bull instead."

And it was true, Aless had taken from its cattle-gate the bull she had begged her father not to kill and to which her father had agreed, and instead of swirls, she had painted [wings on it]. Before the Dagon's eyes this bull [transformed itself as in the manner of god-guiser magic] into Mor, the Bull of the South, Son-of-Kyne, and demiprince of All Winds.

Mor snorted through the hoop of his nose-ring and greeted the [King of Razors]. "Hello, Dagon. The prayers of children very seldom go unnoticed."

Aless said, "That means me."

Mor continued: "You are trespassing outside your mandated day of summoning, Lord Daedroth. Heaven is not happy of it."

Aless smiled and lifted up one finger, "One, you're NEVER supposed to badmouth Alduin in front of a Clever Man. And YOU didn't berate me." She lifted up a second. "Two, you can't even speak the names of the Gods without choking, and every Clever Man has wind enough in his throat to revere them without censure, involuntary or not." Three fingers, now four; five, and six with a second hand. "Then of course the swirls, which we Nords paint the same no matter whichever clan we belong to, because the Giants speak only ONE language and it's in our best interest to talk straight with them. I could mention several others, but you've guessed them all: the spell you suffered at the mention of my ancient namesake, whose story I peppered with sayings that are supposed to be repeated by any that are near as in the hymnal halls, and the Eyestalks of Say What Huh? that don't even EXIST which you just nodded your fake Clever head to, and--"

"I think, little namesake," Mor bellowed, "That he gets the point."

Dagon was fuming now, snow melting around his new-wrought hooves, stretching up and out into demon-skin, red like terror, ebon-armed and frothing. Aless stood her ground. Mor stamped twice, an [approval and a threat].

"You would have made my beloved proud with your courage," the Bull said to Aless, and to Dagon: "Stand down, Demon King, and go down. You will not win this day, even though it is crowned with the power of your first coming."


"Yeah, sure," Aless giggled, "And how does that work out for you? Every single fight you have with the Dragon ends up with you losing, King Chump. And it will always be like that. Here, there, then, now, or in the future: the Dragon wins over you, as he wins over us all. I'm not afraid of that anymore. More importantly, I'm not afraid of YOU."

Dagon stepped forward, crackling now [with flame and old woe]. Mor bent his horns to the ready. Aless stayed where she was.

"I wouldn't do that, mister" she said. "Those swirls that I started painting as soon as we went a-wind'ng? They weren't Giant-Come-Shiny Swirls but hearth-warnings... that YOU were here. In the language of each clan, on all the cows they're looking at RIGHT NOW since you put all those signs up. That you're here-- right here, right where I asked you to return. I think pretty soon you'll start to hear the horns. And even you can't take on all the Sons and Daughters of Kyne, you *******."

And that's when they did hear [the horns of all clans], and the closest was as like a stormsong of thundernachs, for Mor was near, and he [was the issue of the Greater Sky]. And Dagon knew that where the horn soundings landed, the Tongues of High Hrothgar could step, and, when together, the greybeards could breathe unto being the ghost of Shor, which lay all Powers low [even in half-death].

"A curse on the house of Alessia," Dagon muttered before summoning himself a Gate to [the oblivion], for he knew his works were all undone, "And eight more on the Men of the Dragon. There will be an hour when--"

Aless leaned against her bull.

"Hey, Coughy," she said, "Shut up and go already. It's way past my bedtime."

And he did, missing the arrival of the hosts of Hrothgar and Newkreath, and the runners of nearby [Hjaalmarch], and, of course, the thanes of Aless' own stead, which included her father, all of which saw the farm girl in her messy dress leaning against the [Bull of Heaven], glorified in story and song since the days of our first dawn, and all afit for battle and confused [that it would not be met] and more still overcome with the blessings of the Skyrim by the Gods we hold aloft.

To which Aless could only answer: "It's a really long story, guys."


Fight One, "The Eating-Birth of Dagon"

Michael Kirkbride

These were the days of Hoag the Greater, born in a boot...[Long after] the two bells [of the All-Maker's Goat] rang out their clamouring, calling the end of days again in Sarthaal and the world, and Alduin's shadow was cast like carpetflame on east, west, south, and north...[he was] epoch eater. For as far as any man's eyes, only High Hrothgaar remained above the churning coils of dragon stop.

And Alduin said, "Ho ha ho."

But, look! Seven more mountains remained through Mereth like Hrothgaar and the Leaper Devil King (a kindly leaper demon, to be sure, but their king) jumped across the nilphony swirl. He came to Alduin (who always eats Nords first) and said, "Wait, wait, wait! Wait! It is not time to destroy the world yet!"

To which Alduin roared and laughed and said, "King of Leapers, you always bounce up to me around this time (for you are one of the only spirits that can last til my last bite) and shout, 'Wait!', but I never do and I will not now. Leap up to Hrothgaar's top and wait awhile longer in little dignity. The two bells have went 'Gong! Gong!' and that means the kalpa has turned."

The Leaper Demon King knew all this was true but still he said, "Wait, first and last of spirits, the kalpa-turning is brought too soon and I can prove it! Look over there on top of Red Mountain. See the Greedy Man waving his arms?"

Alduin swallowed more of Mereth (this was the destruction of Njorvela and Teed County) and looked over. Indeed the Greedy Man was waving his arms as if to tell the time-eating dragon to stop. Alduin snorted gruffly (a few farms shot out of his nose but he caught them with his tongue and pulled them back into his mouth, for he eats it all) and said, "And the Greedy Man always waves his arms about around this time as if to stop me just like you. It is almost as if you two work together to delay me. Is that what this is? Is some other low spirit hiding portions of the world while you two do this thing? Is this why the kalpa-feast always takes a little longer than it did the previous time?"

And then Alduin looked hard into the eyes of both the Greedy Man (far away) and the Leaper Demon King (close up), one of them for each eye of his own, and he knew it was so. These two spirits gulped big, and were caught.

"Oh crap," the Greedy Man said, "He knows my bargain with the king of leapers, I'd better hide under my mountain!" but he thought and said all this too fast and, without thinking, hid under his mountain even though its base had already been eaten and so it wasn't all still there. (This is how the Greedy Man became trapped both in and outside of kalpas.)

"Oh crap," said the Leaper Demon King, "You have found us out, World-Eater! Yes, just after the two bells of the All-Maker's Goat sound the Greedy Man and I and our servants hoard bits and bobs of the world so you can't eat it all. And when the world comes back we sort of just stick these portions back on and so that's why it is all bigger and bigger for you to eat each time. But it wasn't my idea! The Greedy Man hates you so much and it was his idea to finally trap you one kalpa when it was all much too big and so you would explode out from your belly and die so that the world would never have to die again!"

Alduin (whose stomach was hurting because it was a little too stretched, which had never happened before, and now he knew why) grew furiously angry and boomed out, "You stupid little f*cker, do you even know what would HAPPEN if that happened, my dying and being unable to eat and the kalpa left to run forever? Why do I even ask, you who are a little low spirit whose only real power is jumping around? It is the Greedy Man I should really be mad at!"

And the Leaper Demon King saw a possible way out of this mess for himself but he nodded too eagerly, saying "Yes, yes, yes! Yes!" and the dragon knew that any mercy he might give to this little demon would not result in any true learning. So he cursed the king of the leapers, calling him Dagon, saying:

"The Greedy Man has already f*cked himself up good, hiding inside something that didn't exist anymore, but you: you I curse right here and right now! I take away your ability to jump and jump and jump and doom you to [the void] where you will not be able to leave except for auspicious days long between one and another and even so only through hard, hard work. And it will be this way, my little corner cutter, until you have destroyed all that in the world which you have stolen from earlier kalpas, which is to say probably never at all!"

Dagon (no longer a Leaper Demon King) screamed, "Please no! We have stolen from you so much and crammed it all back on in the craziest of places that it will take forever for me to regain my jumping kind of happiness! Especially if I can only come back to this world through auspicious days long between one and another that also require rituals! I beg you not to do this, O Aka! I beg you one hundred thousand and eight times!"

Dagon did as he said, begging Alduin Time-Eater to reverse his decision one hundred thousand and eight times, and halfway through this number Dagon shut his eyes tight to really mean it and then three-quarters through this number he began to shout his beggings to really, really, really mean it, but when he was done begging Alduin was not near the mountaintop he stood on.

In fact, after many looks east, west, south, and north, and seeing only the churning dragon stop around him, Dagon realied that at some point when he was begging with his eyes closed that Alduin had eaten him, mountaintop and all, and he had not heard the big chomp because he had been begging too loud. And he knew that the last world had been eaten entirely, except for its stolen portions, and that when the new kalpa began to form The Greedy Man (who never stayed trapped for long) would begin sticking these stolen portions back on in the craziest of places, and that he himself could never jump again until all was put back right.

He also knew that the name of "Dagon" would no longer be that of a kindly leaper demon but one who would destroy and destroy and destroy whenever he could find some small escape [from his home in the oblivion]....


Imperial Census of Daedra Lords

Michael Kirkbride

Hey kids,

Still working on the sword-meeting, so in lieu of its presence and in honor of Propitiation Day, I give you "The Imperial Census of Daedra Lords" by the Imperial Geographic Survey. This version of the Census was written before Uriel VII's demise, and is contemporary with the current Pocketguide.



The Imperial Census of Daedra Lords
Azura, Lord of Dusk and Dawn, maintains the domain of Moonshadow, a twilight country of shades and half-thoughts. Visitors to this isle have historically come mainly from the Dunmer of eastern Morrowind and the catfolk of Elsweyr, whose people both hold a great affection for the mother of immanence, though by separate roads. At the time of this writing, regular gateways to Moonshadow have been inaccessible for the last several years. Whether this has to do with the unlawful incidents at Hogithum Hall in the Capital City or mere whim of Azura herself, no one can say. Of course, Azura’s most famous acts of recent times is the Incarnation of the Nerevarine, a subject that while far beyond the scope of this pamphlet has been felt to the present day.

Boethiah, the so-called Prince of Plots, has renamed his country of labyrinthine policy and betrayals yet again. Formerly “Snake Mount”, Prince Boethiah’s maze gardens and twisted towers is called “Attribution’s Share”, a realm best avoided by those that live outside the arcano-politic. Boethiah, like his cohort Azura, is much revered by the followers of the former Tribunal Temple, but sub-cults of his are entrenched in nearly every terrestrial seat of governance. His traditional festival date is the 2nd of Sun’s Dusk, when many contracts are writ between kings and commoners alike.

Clavicus Vile, child-god of the Morningstar, bestows a strange tranquility to his lands that seem concordant to his spheres of mockery and oath breaking, though what shape such concepts might take is admittedly unfathomable. Perhaps by rendering his domains as idyllic countryside the Prince exemplifies his greatest aspect, and that which ingratiates him to his many followers, the power of serenity through wish fulfillment. Only the strongest of the Emperor’s servants are advised to make covenant with Prince Clavicus, and even then are warned against sipping from the Bitter Cup.

Hermaeus Mora, “the Gardener of Men”, claims that he is one of the oldest Princes, born of thrown-away ideas used during the creation of mortality in the Mundus. Imperial Mananauts have verified that his influence on fate and time is real and unfeigned, implications of which tie this Prince directly with Akatosh, chief of the Nine Divines. Since Akatosh is the prime temporal spirit whose appearance led to the formation of the world, perhaps Hermaeus Mora speaks the truth. Nevertheless, it is the will of His Majesty Uriel VII that only on the official holiday of 5th First Seed should any propitiation to this Daedric Prince be delivered. “All else is mutation.”

Hircine’s Hunting Grounds have been closed by consensus of the Elder Council until further notice. It is mentioned here only for the sake of completeness.

Malacath holds the hardest to access of Oblivion’s extant lands, the Ashpit. As Prince Patron of the disenfranchised and cast out, it is only reasonable that the pathways to his domain take on a characteristic level of concealment. Orsinium, kingdom of the Orcs, gives Malacath its highest esteem, which is surprising when one considers the normal Orcish revilement of Daedric spirits. One might conjecture then that the rumors of Malacath not being a true Daedroth but an imprisoned aetherial spirit are true. It would certainly fit the Prince of Exile that he be one himself.

Mehrunes Dagon, Lord of Razors, has proven himself time and again the enemy of the Empire. Of terrible aspect and crowned in beaten copper, the four-armed Prince of Destruction has troubled the borders of the Mundus with warfare, foul rumor, and force of arms. Banished to dissolution during the Weir Gate massacre and again at Kvatch by battlemages of the 33rd, Mehrunes Dagon is returned to Oblivion once more, and the stars have foretold that his tenacity has known no forfeiture. All heroes of Cyrodiil are called upon to stand vigil against his hidden agencies.

Mephala’s domains in Oblivion are numerous and obscured, collected together by vast strands of magical ghostweb. All of them are devoted to her spheres of sex and secret murder. Echoing this same structure are the various esoteric cults devoted to her across Tamriel, many of which are forbidden by Imperial law. Her aspect is shrouded and manifold, even when she appears in the crowds that gather within her temples during Frost Fall.

Meridia’s holdings in Oblivion are collectively known as “The Colored Rooms”. Another Prince whose origins may not entirely be outside of the aetherial, Meridia has at several times been linked to Magnus the Sun. The most famous account of this association is the Tract of Merid-nunda, which overtly casts Meridia in the role of a wayward solar daughter, cast from the heavens for consorting with illicit spectra.

Molag Bal, King of Strife, is second only to his brother Prince Mehrunes Dagon in the enmity of our Emperor. His lands are the charnel houses the slave pens of Coldharbour, which hold no contrition for those travelers that visit them in error or purpose. That Molag Bal is allowed his holiday at all hearkens back to a treaty of ancient times, when he reputedly lent his infernal power to the creation of the first soulgems.

Namira’s Scuttling Void has been closed by consensus of the Elder Council until further notice. It is mentioned here only for the sake of completeness.

Nocturnal is accorded the title Ur-dra by nearly all the Royalty of Oblivion. As the mother of night, she claims to be an aspect of the original Void itself, and it is generally deemed best to fortify this declaration in one’s evening prayers.

Peryite’s pits have always been inaccessible to mortals. Our only real knowledge of them comes from reports of the other diabolical Princes. It is said that Peryite guards the lowest orders of Oblivion and that his summoners are to regard his likeness to Akatosh as some primordial and curious jest.

Sanguine, Prince of Hedonism, lords over no less than ten times ten thousand pleasure pockets of the Void. As revelry and drunken stupor fall under this Prince’s influence, he has been a favorite of many Emperors since the first foundation. Records even indicate that he resided in White-Gold Tower during the reign of Reman Cyrodiil and helped in the somewhat dubious draftsmanship of the Crendali Festivals, whose vulgarities did little to help Imperial expansion into Alinor and the other Summersets.

Sheogorath’s Asylums have been closed by consensus of the Elder Council until further notice. It is mentioned here only for the sake of completeness.

Vaernima, Prince of Omen and Dream, shares a special mageographic connection with the Mundus, since mortal sleepers often slip into her realm without any help at all. Traditional sacrifice to Vaernima is held on the 10th of Suns Height, but as with most luck spirits, prayers to this Daedric Prince occur quite frequently, and not always before bedtime.


The House of Troubles


Among the ancient ancestral spirits who accompanied Saint Veloth and the Chimer into the promised land of Morrowind, the four Daedra Lords, Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, and Sheogorath, are known as the Four Corners of the House of Troubles. These Daedra Lords rebelled against the counsel and admonition of the Tribunal, causing great kinstrife and confusion among the clans and Great Houses.

Malacath, Mehrunes Dagon, Molag Bal, and Sheogorath are holy in that they serve the role of obstacles during the Testing. Through time they have sometimes become associated with local enemies, like the Nords, Akaviri, or Mountain Orcs.

Malacath is the reanimated dung that was Trinimac, Malacath is a weak but vengeful god. The Dark Elves say he is Malak, the god-king of the orcs. He tests the Dunmer for physical weakness.

Molag Bal is, in Morrowind, the King of Rape. He tries to upset the bloodlines of Houses and otherwise ruin the Dunmer gene pool. A race of monsters, said to live in Molag Amur, are the result of his seduction of Vivec during the previous era.

Sheogorath is the King of Madness. He always tests the Dunmer for mental weakness. In many legends he is called upon by one Dunmer faction against another; in half of these stories he does not betray those who called him, further confusing the issue of his place in the scheme of things (can he help us? is he not an obstacle?). He is often associated with the fear other races have of the Dunmer, especially those who, like the Empire, might prove as useful allies.

Mehrunes Dagon is the god of destruction. He is associated with natural dangers like fire, earthquakes, and floods. To some he represents the inhospitable land of Morrowind. He tests the Dunmer will to survive and persevere.

The worship of these four malevolent spirits is against the law and practice of the Temple. However, the Four Corners seldom fail to discover those greedy, reckless, or mad enough to serve them. By ancient Temple law and custom, and also by imperial law, the lives of witches and warlocks are forfeit, and Imperial garrisons join Ordinators and Buoyant Armigers of the Temple in tracking down and destroying these foul covens in the wilderness refuges and ancient ruins where they conceal their profane worships.

Imago's Notes About Neonymics

Imago Storm

Dagon’s incantory neonymic is Djehkeleho-dehbe-effehezepeh. The Daedric characters are Djeh Koh Leh Oh -- Deh Beh -- Feh Ee Zeh Peh, or, in Tamrielic, JKLO-DB-FEZP.


Xivilai’s neonymic is Wegerohseh-chehkohieu. The Daedric characters are Weh Geh Roh Seh -- Cheh Koh Eiu, or, in Tamrielic, WGRS-CKU.


Faydra’s Neonymic is Nepehkweh-kodo. The Daedric characters are Neh Peh Kweh -- Koh Doh, or, in Tamrielic, NPK-KD.