Minutes of the Lusty Argonian Historical Society, Part 2

Sun’s Dusk, 3E 432

The Roll Call

Dhavin (chair)
Vandril Indoril (your humble scribe)
Thoroth (presenter)
Shahavra (present)
Gondyr Armentine (present)
Artonia Melus (present)
Varinturco (present)
Arielle Woodhouse (present)
Julius Cadiusus (present)
Orphala Orethi (present)

Approval of Minutes

The minutes of the last meeting were approved after some trivial objections about “personal comments” and “failing to record my presentation accurately.” Your humble scribe has been told to “shape up.” Since no one else wants the job, it is an empty threat.

The Pledge and Call to Order

Thoroth, whose drinking apparently started well before the meeting, leads the LAHS in the pledge. In deference to future generations, I shall not record his creative and non-traditional version.

Continuing the general tone of scribe-bashing, Dhavin calls the meeting to order with the old joke about the Sload, the Tribunalist, and the innkeep’s daughter.

One Motion from the Chair

Dhavin moves that the pledge, having reached its penultimate expression in Thoroth’s drunken stutter this evening, no longer be required to open each meeting. The motion is seconded and passes 7-3.

Presentation: Thoroth on Trees (and alot of Jagga)

As best as your humble scribe can tell, Thoroth’s presentation is about trees. It is more of a religious service than a scholarly presentation. Thoroth arrived quite drunk, and continued to drink that horrible rot throughout his presentation. Although the presentation is amusing in its own way, it contains nothing of scholarly value, unless you’re interested in the wide variety of trees that grow in Valenwood. And how they smell. And what kinds of bugs and birds live in each one. And how lovely they are, oh my, yes. And a thrilling heartbeat-by-heartbeat description of how they grow.

I shall imediately begin work on a presentation regarding the eleven varieties of ash in Vvardenfell.

The Debate

As fate decreed that the entire evening be wasted on frivolity, this evening’s debate is on… how the city of Daggerfall got its name.

Gondyr recalls a story from his childhood (such scholarship!) that the first settlers to arrive in Daggerfall knew that the nation to the south was called “Hammerfell” after that old tale about Volendrung being flung by some Dwemer chieftain or one of the Daedra or the first Anumidium, etc. These alleged settlers then thought (for whatever reason) that Daggerfall was even further from the alleged thrower and asked themselves, “What could be thrown further than a hammer?” A dagger, of course! So Volenfell becomes Hammerfell becomes Daggerfall. Clever. Since the half-breed witch-men couldn’t find the right side of their horse, much less their southern neighbors, your scribe finds this story unlikely.

Shahavra the Ignorant Beast wonders if the name Hammerfell was in common use when Daggerfall was founded.

Your humble scribe points out that so-called “Volenfell” is a bad translation of an Aldmeris name, and pre-dates the Orcs, much less the Yokudans, the Breton half-breeds, and fanciful stories about hammers flying across the sky like dying gods.

Varinturco moves that my grasp of Aldmeris is faulty and insists that I reveal my etymology (for the record, Vool Ineffel Direnn). I move that Varinturco is a no-talent hanger-on who would love to get a bit of real knowledge without paying the price. Varinturco suggests that my knowledge comes from “a source in Oblivion” and that is what it is worth. I strongly suggest that Varinturco forgets his manners, and should recall to whom he speaks, and the hands that lie behind. Dhavin moves that we both keep silent, and, most unfairly, this motion passes 8-2. I shall be silent, but I shall no forget.

When the conversation returns to the dull debate, Dhavin wastes our time with a story from HIS childhood (!) about an early Nord chieftain who settled in High Rock and marked the borders of his lands by how far he could throw a dagger.

Arielle the Modern Mechanist asks how far a dagger can be thrown, and whether this could actually encompass a kingdom or even a small city.

Dhavin admits that a dagger can’t actually be thrown very far, but suggests that the city’s name “could have come from a dagger-throwing event of some kind.” Or perhaps the chieftain was a master of the thu’um (some kind of singing, I gather), and could throw daggers with his voice(!). While this notion is rightfully mocked, Dhavin claims that Ulrorn the Absent knows someone who has studied this thu’um, and that he will invite her to speak at the next meeting. Lovely.

Artonia wonders if the name could be from a natural feature, such as a series of deadly (dagger) rapids or a waterfall that resembled a dagger in some way. There is only one problem with this theory… None of the LAHS have actually been to Daggerfall, and no one remembers hearing or reading anything about any falls or rapids nearby.

Motion to Adjourn

Several rounds of debate ensue, but no actual facts are presented, and Dhavin finally moves to adjourn. An entire evening wasted.

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