Elder Scrolls Online: Interactive Map Texts: Rivenspire

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Excerpt from Beyond the Grave: Tamriel’s Undead
Powerful and aggressive, wraiths are spirits full of hatred for the living. They do occur naturally, and most studies suggest that they are formed from individuals who suffer great injustice and leave important work undone. Unfortunately, in limited attempts to engage with them, they will not speak. If they have any recollection of their lives or the circumstances around their deaths, they make no display of it. In some cases, exceptionally dangerous necromancers have discovered methods by which to create these hateful spectres and enslave them as guardians. It is recommended to avoid any place rumored to contain wraiths, as their threat to the living is extreme.
From the notes of Samiel Gavendier, sorcerer

Predicting the motions of the Serpent amongst the other stars has become impossible. I am certain of that now, but I remain blind to its meaning. It has been years since I could even somewhat regularly discern its movements. I know much of the other constellations and their influences, though my attempts to focus and harness those energies have borne no fruit yet.

Four years ago, I was so close to capturing some of the Serpent’s energies to study; I had plotted out its course and laid out the shards just so. Now it’s all ruined! My colleagues suggest that I turn my attention to other Aetherial studies, that I just abandon this course, but I will not show such weakness of will. My work shall continue.

Ilyes, huntsman

“It’s not the most welcoming terrain, I’ll give you that, but my family’s hunted these lands for generations. We make a decent living selling off wolf and giant bat pelts, and spider venom fetches a nice sum, considering the danger of collecting it.

It’s all about being prepared, of course. You need a good bow—you don’t want the damn things getting too close to you. If they do, you need the right armor. It’s got to be sturdy enough to keep the fangs out, but tromping around in heavy armor won’t serve you too well out here; you need to do too much climbing, and you need to be quick and quiet for a successful hunt.”

Lady Carlier on the topic of the Covenant

“It falls to us Bretons, of course, to keep the peace. Why, if we can convince the Orcs and Redguards to get along, then it is certain we are capable of anything. Tamriel deserves a strong Empire, where each individual has a proper place, and a fair, just Emperor. That is what we demand, and it is abundantly clear that we are the only ones that can restore the Empire’s dignity.

The Ebonheart Pact? They’ll fall apart within a week, I’m certain of it. They lack diplomacy and cooperation, and will need much stronger guidance to contribute positively to society. And the Dominion? It is clear to anyone that they wish to oppress, not mend. I admit, I feel some pity for the poor Khajiit and Wood Elves—those High Elves will run them over as soon as they are done using them to capture the Ruby Throne. No, Tamriel needs us to step forward and lead her to a new beginning. We’re the only ones who can set things right.”

Notice in the Mages Guild

Attention all Guild members! You must obtain permission for use of the Summoning Room and its equipment. Mages Guild regulations require an overseer’s presence during Conjuration practice on Guild premises. We will not tolerate another episode like last week’s little scamp escape, so DO NOT use the Summoning Room without an authorized Guild member present.

Additionally, to whomever thought it was funny to replace the Alchemy Lab’s spore pods with reekroot seeds: we know who you are. If you continue to show disrespect towards your Guildmates and Guild property in this way, we will be forced to revoke your membership. To everyone else: you’ll have to tolerate the smell until we can neutralize it.

Overheard at The Crow’s Foot Inn

“Steer clear of the docks tonight, if you know what’s good for you. It’s a bad fog that’s out, an evil fog, and I know what it brings. On a night like this, with the moons nowhere to be seen, the souls of the crew of The Persistence stir. I remember the evening they set off. They were behind schedule and wouldn’t listen to anyone about the rough seas. Thought they could skirt the storm, and three days later the only survivor washed up. Now they come back, nights like this. Don’t believe me? Go out to the lighthouse and you’ll hear their voices on the still air, singing old shanties as if they’d never left. You go out there and listen to them if you want, but I’ll stay here with my ale and drink one for their memory.”

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