Anduen

Tuesday, August 28th 11:36 PM

A month has passed since I wrote here. It was about time I did, my head is overflowing with thoughts. Knowing myself I'll be stupid enough to forget to write down anything of import, but it will at least free up some space in my brain.

I learned shortly after Anili's Rejoice had wrapped up that there would be another set of festivals Northwest of here. Inhabiting the Westernmost region are a variety of nomadic human and elven groups in addition to the permanent settlement of the Gypae, or Bird Folk. I have only seen one during my time here, and it stayed for about a week before packing up and leaving.

From what I've read and heard (Thank you, Koiyaat), the Gypae are quite reclusive and do not venture from their oasis save for the peddlers. All others have never even seen what the rest of this world is like, and their knowledge is limited to only that of what the peddlers learn while travelling.

Koiyaat recommended if I wished to observe Gypaean festivities and culture, I should travel North while following the coastline and look for the Human-Elven settlement of Joquom. From what I understand, Gypae trade routes are limited to specific individual Gypae, so the one that comes to the settlement will likely be the same one I saw previously.

I look forward to learning more about them. The most common of beastfolk on Tamriel (at least in regards to modern day and Tamrielic history texts) are the saxhleel (argonians), the khajiit, and debatably the orsimer, despite them clearly being of a more brutish, goblin-like strain of mer blood. (I would include Imga, but most do not know of the Imga, or know very little.)

While the inhabitants of Joquom do not necessarily actively celebrate or worship the dragon of their region, they do celebrate the strange, seasonal rain that comes around this time of year. Because of the importance of rain in the West, it has been dubbed 'Eremo's Drink'. I suppose I will have to wait and see just why it is called this.

P.S I may hire a boatman to carry me to Joquom's port. I will have to find one. I likely will not write again until I have made it to the settlement.

P.S (again) Sharpen shaving knife. Better yet, get a new one. I'm overdue anyways.

Thursday, July 26th 12:01 AM

Where do I even begin? Much has come to pass in the time I have not written.

Anili's Rejoice. I wrote of it last time. I was allowed to observe and partake in the festivities. It's all very good-natured and friendly, and indeed is the most bountiful of days I've come to witness thusfar. While it has rained, it has not stormed in an age. The weather also seems cooler, strangely. Much more tolerable. Typically, the weather on an average day reminds me of home back on Pyandonea, but this entire month has been rather pleasant. It reminds me of Summerset, in a way. Everything is lush and blooming, nothing is dried out or drowned. I quite like the look of it.

Anili's Rejoice is celebrated in 'parts', each leading up to the grand conclusion, which I've just come back from. The early half of the month is spent preparing. Painting, weaving, preparing spices and herbs, brewing drink that takes weeks to prepare. The second half is spent decorating and then paying respects to Anili. Many pilgrimages are made into the deep upper-South where the rainforests are thick and troublesome to navigate. It is the only time of the year when the humidity has lessened enough to do so, as it's so muddy and the air is so thick it makes the journey a pain to endure.

I accompanied a group of Elven pilgrims making the journey. Most had already done it before, and knew what to expect. None would answer to my prying curiosity, all insisting I must 'see for myself' what exactly was in store. It's difficult to really describe truly what I witnessed. It was truly spectacular- breath taking, really. The jungle is so utterly lush and thick with life, it's unlike anything I've seen before. There are flowers the size of men, trees boring fruits and nuts that seem to tower on forever into the sky.

There are springs that run so clear you can see every fish, frog and bug residing within. Oh, and the butterflies! So many butterflies! I am not terribly fond of insects, truth be told, but these butterflies and in such volumes truly is something worthy of awe and wonder. They're gorgeous! They nest in great huddles along tree trunks and on riverbanks, shimmering in the spotty sunlight that pours down in freckles from the canopy above. They look like gemstones that can fly.

The most amazing thing though, was Anili himself. I was under the impression, like so many gods in so many cultures, that Anili was not a tangible being but an unseen deity that leads men throughout their lives, his presence there and yet not. No, Anili most certainly is a physical, very real creature, and he is massive. I cannot stress enough just how behemoth he is, and how interesting he looks.

As I suspected by his art depictions, he truly does look more snake-like than any dragon I've ever heard of. He lacks wings and does not have hind limbs, only forelimbs. His body is long and whip-like and so is his neck, and his scales are very much like the various skins of snakes I've seen in my day. In the sunlight, his hide glistens with iridescence and fiery plumage that trails along his head and neck truly are magnificent.

Despite being fully capable of fitting the entire group of us in his mouth all at once, he moved very little. In fact, he didn't really move much at all. He breathed, he blinked, and occasionally flicked his great forked tongue, but he did not turn his head or twitch his paws or anything of that nature. He simply... stared. It felt like he was staring into us and through us, not just at us.

Something about his looking at me made me rather unsettled. He likely could tell or- if he is as all-knowing as they say, KNEW I was not native to these lands, and had come along through unnatural means.

Anili lays in a great and beautiful spring that allegedly is made up of his tears. It is like a small ocean, inland, for it has no connection to the outer seas yet houses saltwater fish and is lined in sand. Deep enough to drown in, it barely comes up to his massive claws.

When we left, I felt strange. I felt... changed, but I'm not sure how. It's worn off now, and I've since returned to how I felt prior to seeing him, but even still. I remember clearly that sensation.

Anyways... the final portion of Anili's Rejoice is where it gets quite wild. While the first and second portions are spent preparing and paying respects, the final is spent partying. There's music, dancing, feasts, contests, theater, performances of strength and agility, and of course, in times so bountiful, fucking. I politely declined partaking in the various instances of group sex.

I am simply grateful it was all kept in massive tents instead of being out in the open. These people at least have some self respect.

Anyways, I'm worn out. I've been running about all day, every day since the beginning of the month, watching and learning everything there is to about this festival. It's still going on, I simply retired early. It's too noisy and I've not drank enough to appreciate it- nor do I want to. I don't want to forget any of this, it's been quite the learning experience.

I'll have to find out which holiday comes next, and how far I'd have to travel to observe it.

Monday, June 25th 2:09 AM

I'm making an effort to learn the nature of this strange place, which includes written dates. Their entire calendar is both similar yet entirely different, and no holidays are shared with Nirn. Their months and days have different names, and while I am not quite familiar with all of it just yet, I've got a good idea of the next coming months and holidays. It'll give me plenty of time to settle and study the rest of the year's events and month-names.

The closest thing to a celebration that is similar to one on Nirn is something called 'Anili's Rejoice'. I've poured over various text at the local tourist's information center and have ventured further inland by carriage to read at the only library available within a reasonable travelling distance. 'Anili's Rejoice' is named after a creature- they call it a dragon but all art I've seen thusfar depicts something far more serpentine in nature. Anili is a 'middle child' out of a brood of four, his twin originating further North and to the extreme West.

Texts are vague as to why it's called 'Anili's Rejoice', so I had to ask around. I've gotten various answers but generally speaking each answer shared similarities that I feel comfortable enough accepting as fact. Anili is known for his forlorned nature and is thought to be the bringer of waves, water and rainfall. It is said his tears are shed for his feuding brothers, and as a result storms form in particularly severe bouts of sadness.

It's a bit rubbish sounding to me, but whatever. It's not my place to be judging. I'm sure the Maormeri culture would be thought of as rubbish as well, to an outsider. Anyways- the holiday is called Anili's Rejoice because it is the one day of the year Anili casts aside his sadness. Typically, each year around the same time the weather improves drastically and no destructive storms occur, enabling for safe travel to and from the Southern lands while guaranteeing an intact harvest for the season.

Evidently it can be difficult at times to cultivate anything that isn't a well established tree because of the storms that drown smaller plants and knock over flimsier saplings. I look forward to seeing how this holiday plays out. If I'm not mistaken, it's only celebrated in the South because Anili is 'The Southern Dragon'. I will have to read up on the other regional dragons. I may have to travel and see each regional dragon's holiday, if their lore is anything like this one's.

Ah yes. By the way, I found that blasted den I had been hunting for. There are an awful lot of criminal elves here, though according to a young man who calls himself 'Koiyaat' (it sounds almost exactly like the word 'Quiet' but apparently is spelled like that. I'll just call him Quiet in here.) a majority of the elves here are from further North and are considered outcasts for their lack of interest in the pursuit of knowledge.

It reminds me of the Altmeri 'Hulkynd', or broken child. The altmer are disgustingly obsessive about pedigree and status to the point where if a child is born with a minor deformity or is somehow deemed imperfect by their families' standards, they're abandoned. The elves here aren't nearly as divided as those of Nirn- they're roughly the size of men, but their coloration and facial features are far for varied rather than golden, flesh-tone or grey exclusively. They share the same complexions of man, ranging from pale to a very dark brown.

Modern Tamrielic elven races are quite distinguished in that they can immediately be identified as a specific kind of elf. The elves of this land are distinguished as individuals but as a race are all rather similar. There is a shared trait of large irises and sloping, down-pointed noses with no indent between their eyes. Basically, the bridge of their nose branches off of the forehead rather than being it's own protrusion at the center of the face. It's not bad looking at all, just different. They're almost cat-like to be honest.

Quiet isn't from the North, though he is an elf. He's from the Southwest, where it's less tropical and more desert-like, though evidently not as 'dry and unforgiving' as the extreme West. He's an interesting fellow, if not a bit reserved. He seems rather knowledgable of the land, too. I'm hoping to get to know him better, for he may be able to shed some light onto the various questions I've got about this place.

Morndas, Midyear 02:00


I've been disturbed by how many memories I lost. It seems the longer a time I spend in one place, the more I recall. I cannot help but wonder if 'rift magic' numbs the brain temporarily. Regardless, I've found myself having dreams that I KNOW are memories. I used to get rather strange headaches whenever I tried to recall past a certain point, however now the pain has lessened and memories come more readily. Curious business.

The downside to this is while I remember a great deal of vital information, I also remember more leisurely activities. For example, I have dreamt of some of my more fleshly indulgences and have been teased terribly by other dockworkers. There are no walls or cubicles to provide privacy, so my business is their business and their business is mine. This is unfortunate, for there are a few who have absolutely no shame and will pleasure themselves regardless of whose trying to sleep, read, or write.

I have found myself tempted, however I am not some depraved animal that cannot hold back my more bestial urges. I may not be perfect but I have restraint and enough self respect to do such a thing in the presence of others. Besides, beyond that I do have a care enough to not subject others to something like that. I know not everyone is so tolerant.

I must admit, I have fantasized about that lovely Dunmeri piece Sugar acquired during my stay. It was a faded soft-leather ensemble composed of form-fit leggings, tall riding boots, sleeveless vest with open chest and accenting arm coverings. The window at it's front, showy and bordering on risqué yet aesthetically pleasing on a more artistic level was perhaps my favorite aspect. Sugar is a very modest woman, and the vest exhibited the change of fur color on her underside, as well as the subtle curvature of her bust.

(The paragraph above has a great strike through it, however it remains perfectly legible.)

...There I go, being a hypocrit. I'm quite good at that. I critisize others and then go and write about tits in my journal. I deserve a slap on the wrist.

Anyways.

I've gotten myself a job at the port here. It's quite diverse, and there are strange creatures I've never before seen in my life. They seem intelligent, are capable of speech, and have their own unique languages. Many of them are bilingual or multi-lingual, which in my book is another indicator of intellect. It's impressive, despite many of these creatures' beastly nature.

There is a ring of crime here, beneath the docks and port-section of this city. I have not discovered any entry to any sort of hideout or den, however I cannot help but suspect there is one. I've been keeping my eyes open and have been doing small things to slowly immerse myself into the 'underworld culture' of these parts. I am not, after all, unfamiliar with this sort of thing.

If I can get back into the smuggling business, or something similar, I may be able to make enough money to start actually setting aside for something bigger, like my own vessel. That way I could cast out when ready and hit the waters proper once more. That'll be a long time in the distant future though, I suspect.

That storm did come, by the way. The one the locals had mentioned. It was quite nasty- it destroyed a good deal, though most were prepared so there wasn't great loss involved. Certain things that couldn't be brought indoors or fully covered, like the larger boats, did suffer buffeting. I was able to aid in the reparation of said damage however, so I was able to make myself useful and keep busy.

It's not bad here. I'm tempted to stay. Not try to 'leap' again. I want to get back to Nirn, though... I want to find Sugar. My crew likely think me dead, so it'd be an excellent opportunity for me to fuck right off and go live happily ever after with the woman I love.

One can only hope.

Tirdas, Midyear 01:17

It's been a time since I last wrote here. Not long after my last entry- perhaps a few short weeks time, I made an attempt to replicate the weather conditions that landed me on the Etla Isles. It was a success, for I conjured an unstable child-rift. Unfortunately, I was not able to enter it properly. Willoughby- or, Hodge, his name is, decided to jump at me in the way an over-excited, poor-mannered dog might. This caused us both to tumble into the rift unprepared.

I do not think we landed in the same dimensions. He was not nearby, when I came to. I wasn't even sure where I was when I woke, for I lost consciousness somewhere along the way while I was thrust through the fabric of time. I sound like a bloody Psijic, talking like this. I need to remember not to talk about this out loud or in my journal, it leaves an ill and unsettling feeling with me.

I am not on Tamriel, or anywhere on Nirn. I am not within Etlan territory either, however. I have not mustered the courage to ask what land I'm in- I have only heard brief mutters in passing from local port workers. It's very vague. 'The South', they call it. I genuinely hope that isn't what this entire territory is called. That would be just stupid.

Anyways- I have encountered orc, human, elf, and short, bearded people called 'dwarves'. Not at all like the dwemer, a type of elf from back 'home' that mysteriously up and disappeared one day. I'm learning all kinds of strange things while away from Nirn.

Curiously, there is a strangely complex weather-predicting system set into place here, and it isn't done with the use of magic. I don't understand any of it at all- it's what they call 'science-based'. The waters have been clear and the sky has been empty, however talk has travelled around that a hurricane is due in the next coming weeks. I suppose we'll just have to see if any of that amounts to anything.

Hopefully, Hodge didn't get killed. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if he did though, and it would serve him right for being so reckless. I do kind of miss him, despite everything.

I've once again began thinking about Sugar again. I really need to stop it, it makes broody and depressed. The people here (or rather the tavern regulars) have mentioned more than once now that I act like a 'wet rag' at times, and it's usually when I've been thinking about her. I can't help it, though. I'm remembering things that I had forgotten- perhaps it was because of the initial fall through the rift, or perhaps it's simply because of the time that's passed. I had forgotten just how close we were. How much time we actually had spent together.

The ring in my bag, I knew it was from her but I couldn't quite remember when I'd gotten it. I remember now. It was when I gave her a ring of my own. I had been visiting her at her home to the North of Gnisis- she had been born across the island in Telvanni territory and after escaping with her mother to Tamriel's mainland she had traveled for months until reaching Dominion territory. Then she exited it by crossing the drink to Khenarthi's Roost, where she was raised with her cousins. I remember lying in bed with her more than once. She always seemed so compelled to discuss her life with me after we'd made love. It was strange to me at the time. I didn't understand it but I think I do now.

Good Gods I miss her. I hope she's alright. I know she's safe in Gnisis for the most part but it's just a stone-throw away from Sadrith Mora compared to a continent and a skip across the drink that Khenarthi's is. I know she's capable and she isn't a child but those Telvanni mages can be so... nasty. Especially to the Khajiit and Argonians.

It's baffling how much I forgot. How long has it been since I saw her? Since I was found by one of Orgnum's fleets and 'reclaimed'. I remember seeing her in the shadows, watching as I was plucked up and swept away, with nothing that she could do. It makes me believe the Altmer's claim of we Maormer being 'cursed'. It seems if we stray from our tradition we can only find suffering.



Edit: Iv had a few drInks. Finaly asked if this regon is called 'The South'. It is. I canf fucking beleve it. How stupit...

Morndas, First Seed 01:30

I was going over my last journal entry and was disgusted by how pathetic it was. Is that really what I've been reduced to? A reminiscing, whining sod? Gods, this island is not good for me.

For how diverse a city it is, my appearance is met with subtle negativities. I have seen people coddle that blasphemous bat-creature as if it were but merely a lost and fragile child, yet an able bodied adult man such as myself, with no injuries to be seen, is rudely informed something appears to be wrong with my eyes. The nerve.

Efforts have been made to acquire or at least to gain access to maps of the island. I want to know where exactly I am, what surrounding locations I might find beyond the city walls and how far the next city might be. Perhaps it is just this one that proves so unpleasant. I hope so.

I need to find someone familiar with the behavior of this supposed 'rift' I fell through. I may go insane if I have to spend the rest of my years here. I could try to find a new crew, but if the seamen are anything like the landwalkers I'd rather get eaten by sharks than subject myself to that.

I have not encountered that Willoughby fellow again. What I had overheard of his conversation with that Odgerel fellow has got me wondering what exactly it is he does for a living and if it may suit me. I suppose I won't know until I ask. For being so large he sure is difficult to find.

The entry previously found here appears to have been torn out. Suggesting this is the evidence of dimpled, bunched up remnant-paper at the seam where each page meets the inside of the journal's spine.

Very few entries have been written in the journal, despite it looking old. The previous entries are vague and uninteresting- primarily mentioning the weather and sea condition.

Morndas, First Seed, 16:00

I've spent a week in this new land, collecting bits here and there in my mind so that I've something to properly write about.

I believe I arrived on a Middas or Turdas, I don't recall.

I was separated from my crew while we were in Eltheric waters, if I'm not mistaken. A favorite of most of us for just how vast it is, because it means we won't have to stand on still earth for quite some time. It's a vast and beautiful ocean.

We've sailed through many storms, this one seemed no different. The rain was heavy, the waves were harsh, and the deck was soaked. If it weren't for the make and material of our ships I think most of us as a people would have died out a long time ago. We don't get weighed down by unwanted water, it just slips right through the seams.

There was a strange concentration of magical energy unlike anything I've ever been exposed to, right in the bloody middle of it all. We had all secured ourselves down to ensure none of us were lost, and as we passed through it a great and blinding light appeared out of nowhere.

The water had already been increasingly unruly, but it wasn't anything we hadn't dealt with in the past. A great rogue wave appeared right out of nowhere, and several of us were swept off deck. My line hadn't been tied securely enough, I suppose. I recall losing my air and thinking I was drowning for a moment, yet I was still airborne having just been flung into the blue. What appeared to be a tear in the very fabric of existence occurred and before I truly hit the water I was falling through it.

Next thing I know, I'm in an entirely different ocean altogether. I still haven't figured out the name of it, I'm having a difficult time finding the information I'm after. Anyways, I managed to find a large enough piece of debris to climb atop and gather myself. Even found my pack floating about after some paddling about for an hour or so. Everything inside was in tact, if not a bit soggy.

Finally, sails and sand come into view. I don't think I've ever been glad to see land like I was just then. I end up swimming to shore from there, and come to find I've landed someplace called 'Ceital Harbour.' Never heard of it. I guess the weight of it all caught up with me because I lost consciousness. I have no idea how long I was out but after waking, taking a long walk on the beach and arguing with myself I got up the courage to explore.

Found a tavern called the 'Gull's Head'. Haven't met the owner I don't think, but a bloody bear of all things tends to the bar. Never seen a bear do anything useful in my life. Come to think of it, I've barely seen any bears. Huh.

Anyways. Met a fellow who calls himself 'Willoughby'. Bastard's got four arms and hair all over the damn place. Enormous. He looks like he could tear a person to pieces if he wanted to. He was pestering some poor fellow, ended up leaving when he got the chance. I guess I had distracted him just long enough to provide a window of escape. I had to leave as well, I got overwhelmed. I'm used to being surrounded by my crew mates but being around so many unfamiliar folk after... whatever you want to call 'that' happening, I wasn't ready for it.

Spent the next couple of days mostly minding my own. Exploring the less inhabited areas- it's a city, this is. Eileadora. Bloody mouthfull. I'd understand if that were the island's name but it isn't. 'Etla Isle'. Bah.

Went to the tavern again to get some food. I had to walk to the damned castle just to get to the bank and do a currency exchange. I'm surprised they even took my cash. The guy there looked like a khajiit, but sounded nothing like any I've ever met.

The food at the tavern was alright. Got myself some cod and potatoes. Haven't had potatoes very many times in my life, they taste like starchy dirt.

I met a bunch of girls there, a much too small elf woman, a girl with one deer-antler on her head who spoke very strangely, a deer woman... there was another deer person- I think the deer woman's husband.

I think the worst person I've encountered on the island so far has been 'Hashenn'. I didn't ask his name, I overheard it. He's some kind of fucking bat-creature who walks upright. Reminds me far too much of giant bats. He's civilized- he can talk and hold a cup in his hand...wing? He can hold a cup but I don't know if I'll be able to get used to the way he looks. I hope I don't see him again, he's disturbing to look at.

So far, all in all, the people of Eileadora are all mostly insufferable and seem to be lacking in the brain department. I'm keeping to myself because of it.