Declassified Documents Concerning the Final Days of the Royal Imperial Mananauts

3 Frostfall, 2E 1

This morning I awoke from another nightmare.

It played out like a battle I once fought, in the swamps of southwestern Morrowind. It was night, long after the sun had set, and the moons were high and full. A crisp breeze of the Last Seed shook through the air. Almost a year had passed but, as was the case with so many battles towards the end of the war, I have never forgotten. I knew the course of the battle well. Although the Dark Elves knew the land, my cohort had, weeks prior, freed a number of Argonians slaves from a Dres slave-pen. Two dozen of the more capable slaves agreed to disperse themselves among our group so that we might make use of their knowledge of the area and their ability to conduct important scouting missions that their philology allowed them. These Argonians were vital for our cohort’s string of victories towards the end of the war. While many of our comrades in the north were less successful, we had a much higher rate of success; had it not been for the death of the Emperor (may he rest in peace) it may have been possible that we would have eventually won the war.

In the real battle, our forces had won, although it was hard-fought. My cohort had been pushing strongly northeast for many weeks and the forces of the slavemasters of Dres had been getting desperate. This front was not considered strategically important by either side and, as a result, the Dres received little help from the other Dunmer Great Houses, nor from their living god-kings.

In this particular battle, we had emerged at a relatively dry and open clearing in the middle of the swamp. The moons were quite clear, their brightness illuminated the field. The Dres were particularly desperate and crazed and engaged us not just by sword but with magic as well. Due to their need elsewhere, we had few battlemages among us, but what we had were advantages in number and equipment. The magic of the Dres spellswords relied heavily on poison, which again allowed us to make use of the Argonians. Their immunity to poison, as well as their ability to quickly synthesize cures, allowed us to eventually claim victory. The dream at first played out as that battle had. However, as I came to the point where the Dark Elves surrendered, everything changed. There was a strange shrieking, something horrifying and unworldly. After a few moments I noticed the light shining on the field becoming more intense. I looked up quickly to catch of glimpse of Secunda growing larger, spiraling towards the surface.

As the moon crashed upon us, I was awoken.

I am convinced that this dream was nothing more than stress-related. My tenure as Chief Security Officer with the Royal Order of the Imperial Mananauts starts today and I am still unsure as what to expect. In regards to the organization I, like most of the citizens of the Empire, know very little. Much is kept secret, and posses nothing but unreliable rumors and wild speculation. I have heard stories that the Mananauts have ventured everywhere, from the realms of Oblivion, to Atherius, and even to places unknown. What I was told specifically was that I was to maintain order at the only current operation, that being the organization’s base on Secunda. The very idea of a permanent settlement on one of the moons, of all places, seems entirely too fantastical to be true, but then again so did the stories of giant stilt-striders and floating netches, until I saw them for myself in Morrowind. I am determined to keep an open mind, after all, I was given this position directly by the Potentate himself. The Akaviri is not one to joke and in his letter he made sure to outline how important this appointment is to the Empire. Obstinately, my success in the Four-Score War is what allowed me to be chosen for this position. The assigned task, however, is still quite unclear to me.

Why would it be necessary for someone who’s only proven use is in combat to accompany a scholarly and technical expedition? I was told to meet a handler that was to escort me to the staging area at the inn I had been staying at, at exactly midday. I was told to look for a young Redguard, no more than 30, wearing what was described to me as armor “resembling a light diving suit without the helmet”. I was told it would be hard to miss, that the armor would be prominently colored a lime green, and the likelihood of me confusing him with anyone else was nonexistent. When I walked down to the tavern at noon, I spotted him sitting at a table alone immediately, very hard to miss.

“Are you Josiah?” I said to him, taking the seat across from him

“Yeah, you Captain Corretus?” He said, simultaneously getting up from the seat, as I was sitting

“Yes, I was supposed to…” I responded

“We need to get going” He said “We’re going to be late if we waste time with small talk.”

He said nothing else, just motioned me to follow. He seemed terse with me for some reason, though I could see no reason why.

“So, what do you do with the mananauts?” I asked “I’m the deputy security officer.” He responded flatly “I’ve been running things since the last chief died.”

No one had informed me my predecessor had died. His attitude became a bit clearer. Perhaps he was still affected by that last chief’s death or maybe he was angry that he was overlooked for promotion, and seeing me opened up bitter feelings? It seemed strange to me that they would not promote the more experienced member of the expedition and instead bring in someone from the cold. Maybe it was because he was a Redguard. His accent made it clear he was certainly born in Hammerfell.

“This may seem strange but I don’t actually know what my job is supposed to be. Having a security officer attached to a scholarly mission seems…”

“Look, we can’t talk about that out on the street like this. Everything will be explained to you when we get where we’re going, ok?”

We did not talk to the rest of the way. We turned the corner of the street, where a carriage was waiting for us, that took us to a fairly large wooden building in less bustling part of the Imperial City. As we got off, Josiah produced a key which he used to unlock the door to the building as he ushered me in.

We entered through the front door to reveal hundreds of packed crates. This building seemed to be nothing more than a storehouse, although quite a bit small for a storehouse.

I looked up at Josiah with a question look on my face.

“This building is actually used to store surplus legion equipment. It’s not entirely a front, just mostly. The real staging ground for the Mananauts is located underground.” he stated blandly, continuing you motion to me to follow.

I was lead to one of the larger boxes in the middle of the room. It was just large enough for a man to fit into and before I even saw him reach for the other key I knew what to expect. Obviously this box was fake, a door to the lower level and indeed, my suspicions were correct. Josiah inserted the key into a padlock located on the crate to reveal that one of the sides of the crate swung open like a door, revealing a winding stairwell illuminated by a series lit torches that lead into the ground. I followed him down the stairs for a while. We descended in silence. Finally, we reached another wooden door, requiring yet another key.

“It’s best not to question what you see. It might not make any sense to you but it does work.”

As the door, I was greeted with a large chamber, far larger than the upstairs storehouse. The walls were made up of polished stone and the floor of smooth gray tiling. Crates, like those from upstairs, were pushed up against the sides and stacked on top of each other, pushed away to make room for what lied in the center.

In the center of the room stood, simply, a large steel box.

It was the size of a cottage that one might find in the Colovian countryside, something on the Gold Road to Anvil. The outside was covered in rivets, with no openings other than a hatch at the top, with a ladder bolted to the side leading up to it.

“Is that the ship?”

“Sure is. You were expecting something else weren’t you? Maybe something that looked like a bird with wings or maybe made of brass and covered in Dwarf glyphs?”

“I don’t know what I was expecting, but yes, that does sound more of what I was thinking. I wasn’t expecting it to be underground either.” “Seems odd right? We’re going to the moon in a metal box that’s underground.”

“I’ve seen drawings of the Sun Birds before, I’ve seen Dwarven diagrams of strange machines, I just expected…”

“Like I said, don’t question it. It works, that’s all you need to know. I’ve ridden in this thing dozens of times.”

I noticed the hatch swivel open as two men in similar armor to Josiah exited. One remained on the roof while the other climbed down the ladder. He strode past and turned his head to Josiah as he walked towards one of the walls.

“We have two more crates to load, sir.”

“You two grab one and, once that’s in, start preparing for launch. We will bring the other one with us.”

I motioned to the man.

“Captain Julius Corretus, pleasure to meet you.”

“Sir, my name is Marcus Fenius, an honor to meet you.”

Josiah moved away.

“This is our new Security Chief. Anyway, just get ready, we’re leaving in ten.”

Marcus made his way to one of the walls and grabbed the crate, balancing it on his shoulders as he walked back to the ship. The other still standing at the top of the ladder waved to me.

“Sir, Raymond Centus.”

I waved.

Marcus handed Raymond the crate up the ladder, as Raymond proceeded to bring it back in through the hatch, Josiah motioned to me.

“Help me with this last one, it’s pretty important, since it has your suit in it.” I followed him over to the crate he pointed to as we each grabbed a side.

“What exactly are these suits for anyway?”

“Not really sure, the director explained it to me once. Something about thin layers of creatia on Secunda. The suit like, sustains something or other…I didn’t really get it. You can ask him once we get there. It’s important you keep it on outside the base though. We’ve had guys go out without them and it was a real mess to clean up.”

Josiah climbed up the ladder first as I, still clutching one end, followed him. He grabbed the crate from me as he walked down first. I followed as soon as it looked like he cleared the entry. We immediately entered a small room, not big enough for more than six people, bounded by two steel hatched doors on either side. Josiah placed the box down as he climbed back up the ladder after me and sealed the hatch.

“You don’t have to put the suit no now if you don’t want, but we generally keep them on when on the ship. It’s a safety precaution, in case there’s a breech or something. I’ll have one of the guys take it to your quarters for later.”

“Quarters? How long does the trip take normally?”

“About a day. It’s hard to tell when there’s no light inside, but we try to keep clocks around so we know when to sleep. Not that it makes it normal. No one’s really gotten used to it; except the pilot I guess.” He motioned to one of the two doors.

“I’ll introduce you to him and he can tell you how the ship works, if you’re into that. I never really understood it. Just trust me when I say it gets weirder. Besides that, there’s not much on here. This is our only ship right now, since the Potentate had the others scrapped. This was one of the smaller ones so there’s only room for a dozen people, maximum, and not much else. Just the pilot’s chamber, crew quarters, some storage rooms and a really small common room where we keep the food.”

He unlatched the door, swinging it open as I followed him through. For what I saw, weird would be an understatement.

In my time in the legion, I was known as a bit of a book worm, at least compared to be most legionaries. Before being sent to the front in Morrowind, I decided to avail myself with the region’s history, hoping it would aid me in the campaign. Luckily for me, the Imperial City had, at that point, contained many impressive libraries, with many rare and interesting books. I learned much about Morrowind, including much about the Dwarves. When I had been told of my new assignment, my imagination, fueled by all the fantastic diagrams and descriptions I had read about, speculated wildly about the possible construction of this ship. I had assumed that any advanced technology, such as the ships of the Mananauts, must necessarily be built from, or in mimicry of, the great Dwarven constructions. When I heard “pilot’s chamber”, I had assumed I would be greeted with panels covered in blinking crystals, of gears and copper tubes and steam vents. What I expected was a maze of scarcely identifiable mechanical devices.

Instead, what greeted me was shockingly bizarre.

The chamber was quite large and tall, seemingly taking up the majority of the ship’s space. At the center of the chamber was a trough of soil, within in which rested a tree. Besides this tree, there was little else. Some bolted steel doors leading to the other chambers in the walls, some more crates scattered along the floor, one singular wooden table with two chairs sitting close to the tree and a number of Dwemer light stones mounted in fixtures across the room. At the table sat an Argonian, wearing the same armor the others did. I stared in shock for a moment and it seemed my confusion was noticed by the others in the room.

“Like I said, weird.”

I stopped for a second, ignoring Josiah and continued to stare at the tree. It looked familiar at first, and it took me a moment to realize that this tree was specifically familiar as the kind I had seen in the swamps of southern Morrowind.

“This is a swamp tree. A Hist.”

The Argonian, who had been reading a scroll perked at this statement. He put down the scroll and rose from his seat.

“The Cyrodill is correct, it is in the presence of The Hist. May I know the name by which the Cyrodill is known?”

“Captain Julius Corretus.”

“This Argonian is known as Knower-of-Star-Names. This one is pleased to make Captain Corretus’s acquaintance.”

Many of the Argonians that those in Cyrodill encounter are often quite assimilated. They have mastered the language of the empire better than their brothers in Black Marsh and so often their speech is more polished. This Argonian was clearly not as integrated into the Imperial customs, perhaps recruited directly from the swamps. His language was a bit courser and stranger, luckily my previous experience with Argonians had caused me to grow accustomed to these speech patterns.

“Captain Corretus is the new Security Chief. Knower here is our pilot.”

“Actually, it is not in correctness to say this one is the pilot. The true pilot is The Hist, this one simply attends to The Hist’s needs and bridges communication between The Hist and the Mananauts.”

I was not sure if I heard correctly, was this Argonian saying the tree piloted the ship?

“Did you just say the tree was piloting the ship?”

“This one is disappointed by Captain Corretus’s ignorance. This one is hearing stories of Captain Corretus’s bravery in freeing many good Argonian brothers and sisters during the War of Four-Score and will thus forgive Captain Corretus. The Hist is not a tree, the Hist is much more. The Hist thinks and feels, but more importantly, The Hist knows.”

Josiah snickered a bit.

“So he says. Whatever it is we need it to make this ship work.”

“But how can a tree, even a…thinking tree move something with no means of propulsion? I haven’t seen any anything that might make this thing fly, and for that matter, we’re dozens of feet underground! How does this thing get to the moon?”

“ Captain Corretus must understand that Secunda is not simply located in the sky. Secunda itself is a separate sphere in and of itself. One cannot simply fly to Secunda. One can fly as high as one wants and never reach any of the other spheres. One must bend the earthbones, compress the dream-spaces of Mundus and rotate 16×16 degrees to have any hope of…”

“He doesn’t know what you’re saying, none of us do.”

“What this one is explaining is that only a being of great metaphysical understanding and with roots buried deep into the dawn, such as The Hist, can properly allow a physical space to relocate to another plane.”

“So what you’re saying is that the Hist is actually teleporting this ship to Secunda?” I inquired.

“Speaking simple one could say that.”

I always considered myself an intelligent person. I read quite a bit, and although most of it was dealing with history and anthropology, I kept an open mind when it came to magic and metaphysics. I was finding this hard to swallow nonetheless. At one level, I wanted to understand how all of this worked (unlike Josiah, who seemed to be comfortable with ignorance), but at another level much of this seemed over my head. “Well thank you for taking the time to explain this to me, it was nice meeting you.”

“This one feels likewise. If Captain Corretus does wish to discuss this topic, this one is happy to explain more.”

Josiah nodded to the Argonian as he walked back to his chair and motioned for me to follow him yet again.

He showed me around the rest of the ship, though there wasn’t much left. There were three quartering rooms of bunks, two storage rooms, the entry room and the common room/mess. On this ride, there would be only the five of us. The two others would share one of the rooms, while Josiah and I each had quarters to ourselves. He claimed the Argonian didn’t sleep. Eventually, after periodically checking a watch he produced from his pocket, he motioned me to follow him back into the pilot’s chamber. As he opened the door to the chamber, he called out to the Argonian

“It’s time, you can start now”

He turned to me.

“Just don’t disturb him until we land. He doesn’t like that and it makes the ride rougher.”

The Argonian rose from his seat and touched the tree, then he just stood there motionless.

“Ok, it’s about dinner time, the food we have on here is pretty bad, but I’m hungry so if you want food follow me.”

“Is that it?”

“Yep. Where you expecting something else?”

“I don’t know, maybe some shaking, or some movement of some kind. I don’t feel anything.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way. If any of that stuff happens, then something’s wrong.”

Josiah wasn’t lying when he said the food was bad. Stale bread and pickled cabbage with a side of stewed beans. He claimed the food used to be better, before the funding cuts. After eating I noticed on one of the clocks that it was already 9 p.m.

“I think I’m going to head off for the night.”

“Go for it. There’s not much to do but sleep on this ship anyway. You should be fine, it’s pretty calm usually. I’ll send one of the guys to wake you up when we land.

I’m still completely ignorant to what my purpose on this mission is but hopefully tomorrow I will receive some answers. This trip is already shaping up to be entirely not what I expected, and I am anxious to see where this journey will take me.

4 Frostfall, 2E 1

The compound was truly an engineering feat. I imagine that at its heyday, it could be truly described as one of the greatest building feats in Tamrielic history. It is a shame few will ever know, and a shame it is long past those days.

Our ship arrived in a cavernous docking chamber. Obviously the chamber was built with more, and larger ships in mind. As Josiah told me, there were once many more, large, ships in the fleet. Leaving the ship, walking through this chamber, with only our lone, small ship in view, felt strange. It felt like being in the center of a derelict building, and judging by what I was told, this would probably not be the last time I would feel this way.

Josiah explained to me that the program, when it had employed hundreds in the past, had once grown all of its own food in the central dome. There had been people whose sole job had been to farm here at the base. In time though, as more and more funds were cut, this became impractical and undoable. As we exited the docking chamber, we entered the central dome.

The entire facility was composed of a series of glass domes and spires, with the central dome being as large as a typical Dres plantation, being filled mostly with plant life. While originally cultivated farmland, when I stepped into the open field, it was by that point very much overgrown. What had previously been storage silos were long since cracked and shattered. Many large shrubs and vines covered the ground, and the irrigation ditches had long since dried up.

“The director wants to see you before you do anything else.”

Josiah motioned at me to follow him, through one of the overgrown fields, through a latched door and through a metallic tunnel into one of the other buildings. We traveled up a flight of stairs that resembled the kind of wizard’s tower one might see in High Rock. At the top was a wooden door with a plaque nailed into it reading Luc Signiz, Director of Operations. It would seem that this was the man in charge.

“The director likes to talk, he’ll answer any questions you have, and then continue to talk. I’ll be waiting outside to show you around after.”

I approached the door and knocked. Almost immediately I was given a response.

“Come in please, Captain.”

I nudged the door open as I looked to Josiah giving me a nod. I scuttled in, closing the door as I approached.

“Good to meet you! I am Luc Signiz, Director of Operations.”

“Captain Julius Corretus of…”

“Yes, I know who you are. ”

“Well sir, I appreciate you asking me to come in. To be honest with you I am still quite unclear about…”

“Yes yes, you have many questions. I apologize for the lack of communication. There was only so much information the Potentate wished to risk being heard by the wrong ears, and we felt it best to wait until you were securely on Secunda before going into more detail about why you are here.”

“I understand why secrecy might be necessary, but to tell me nothing?”

“It wasn’t my decision, if it were I might have had more information disclosed to you. However, it is true that the very existence of the Empire is at risk.”

“How so? Is this not a scholarly expedition? Why would a security chief even be needed, and why would you need to recruit from outside? Surely Josiah could have been promoted? Especially considering, it has become clear to me, that the program is slowly being shut down.”

“Let me just start from the beginning and tell you everything, and then I’ll try to answer as many of your questions as I can. Having your cooperation and understanding is very important to us.

At its peak, the Mananauts employed hundreds. We had ten ships and a number of different operations occurring simultaneously. We used this base on Secunda as a staging ground, but our prime focus was beyond the moons. We sent people to and from Atherious, mapped a number of minor realms of Oblivion and even sent people to the god-planets. Unfortunately that was over eighty years ago. The Four-Score War was ultimately our downfall. As is the fate of scholars, our efforts were pushed aside in favor of the ever-marching war machine. The way that leaders value war over knowledge, it truly disheartens me, no offense to Captain.”

“None taken. War should be something always to avoid. I’ve seen the useless destruction firsthand, and that war itself was a particular example of the futility of the whole thing. It was mismanaged from the start, and in the end all of that death accomplished nothing. If I were born in another time, I would have perhaps been assigned to protect rural villagers from bandits, or to root out coastal piracy, maybe as a member of that new Fighter’s Guild organization.”

“Quite true. I am glad to see you feel this way. You had a reputation for being more…thoughtful than many of your peers. This is why I lobbied for you to be chosen for this position. The Potentate wanted a veteran of the war, I insisted you be chosen, as I wanted someone that could relate to our work here and keep a more open mind, also someone that would think before he acted.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of me, but what exactly am I being asked to do here?”

“After the cuts began, our operations began to recede. We haven’t been outside of Secunda for almost 15 years. The empire began to conclude that the Mananauts were unnecessary. In many cases, we are stepping on a path the Sunbirds already layed out, and the Emperors began to feel that what we were doing was a waste of time. Obviously, I disagree, but there was only so much pull that I and my predecessor had.”

“How long have you been the director?”

“Thirty-nine years, but I have been with the Mananauts for over fifty in various positions. I unfortunately foresaw most of the organization’s downward spiral. The Remans, although willing to gut the organization, seemed to have a reluctance to outright disassemble it. However, when the Potentate took power last year, I was immediately called to the Imperial City. The Potentate had every intention to end the program right then and there.”

“What convinced him to keep it operational?”

“The Potentate has every intention of shutting down the program, but not until certain tasks have been completed. Two months ago, two of our researchers were out on a routine collection run of our magica condensers…”

“I’m not privy to what those are.”

“We have, on Secunda, a number of different devices that collect ambient magica, which has a different nature to it as compared to…this is irrelevant. The point is, these two researchers stumbled upon something in their task.”

“Something what?”

“It seems that, and we have no idea for how long, we are not alone on Secunda.”

This statement shocked me. My heart skipped a beat and my mind raced. What did this mean? Was there some sort of supernatural presence here? Or was it more mundane?

“What do you mean by…?”

“Relax Captain, I can see that my statement made you a bit nervous. There is nothing metaphysical going on here, simply political. It seems our neighbors were Altmer, from Alinor.”

I calmed down a bit, however this was still bizarre news, and I was starting to piece together why I might have been needed here after all.

“Sunbirds?”

“It would seem.”

“But they ceased sending expeditions thosands of years ago. Furthermore, Alinor is now under the control of the empire. How could they send anyone here without The Empire knowing?”

“Imperial control of Alinor has been slowly waning for the last few years. Hiding something like this from the Empire, however difficult, would not have been impossible. Their motives and intentions are, however, unknown.”

“I would expect that this has to be some sort of plot against the empire, why else would they hide it?”

“We were tempted to inquire the council of Alinor directly, but we decided that the best course of action would be to hide our knowledge. Obviously they know we have a presence here, but it is unlikely that they know that we are aware of their presence here. That has given us the ability to observe them and gather intelligence that they assume we do not have.”

“So what does the Potentate want done?”

“Our final task is to gather intelligence on what exactly they are doing here, and to end it. I think it then becomes obvious why your presence here is needed.”

“I think this clears quite a bit up.”

“I’m glad. Are you on board then?”

“Just one last question. What happened to my predecessor?”

“He was killed in an unforeseen landslide while leading a team to try and locate the Sunbirds’ base of operations. To be honest with you, while death was not what I wanted, he was quite incompetent. I was planning on requesting his replacement before the accident. He was simply not prepared for this environment.”

“So it is dangerous here?”

“Very.”

9 Frostfall, 2E 1

It has been almost one week since I have arrived here. My primary tasks are to organize security and accompany obtuse scientific exhibitions out onto the surface. The mages in this compound, the few that are still here, seem completely oblivious to the realities of their mission. All of them have been made aware of not only the impending cession of the mission, but also of the Elven presence. In true academic fashion though, they seem to be completely ignoring these realities, carrying on their experiments and inquiries as if nothing is amiss. The security detail now only numbers one dozen, as compared to the 32 researchers present at the compound. It is already becoming increasingly difficult to provide proper security on these expeditions, and we have had to forbid a number of them due to lack of manpower at the time. The mages, of course, are livid and the last five days has seen me having to deal with an endless barrage of complaints and debates.

There is really no debating the need for trained personnel to accompany these missions. Even completely ignoring the need to stay alert for Elven detection, the entire environment of Secunda is full of hazards. The pockmarked surface of the planet informs the reality of a world that, by my observation, is literally crumbling apart. The many hills that dot the landscape are, without exception, extremely prone to collapse. The rocks and soil are quite lose, and there is literally nothing holding the ground together. Not plants obviously, but also no significant moisture. Rockslides are common, as are sudden ground collapses. Earthquakes too, are so common that I find myself now ignoring them. The massive, reinforced nature of the home compound was clearly an extreme necessity, and I find it a wonder that the facility even remains in tact in when noticing the numerous quakes.

I can say with certainty that my position is far more essential than I realized, as many of these men do not seem self-possessed enough to act properly without orders. I have also found myself not just sitting back, but myself acting as an active security detail. In spite of this, I am not able to accompany every expedition, and I am required to have those under me report to me about the Elven situation. We have been trying to send regular observation groups of two men every day to look for their base of operations, as we have yet to locate exactly where they are stationed. We have not had any success.

Our most recent returned group, instead of bringing news of the Elves, instead presented claimed observations of bizarre sights, thing I will not repeat. I of course didn’t believe them. They likely didn’t take enough water with them, or their suits were not properly sealed. Perhaps one of them took a spill down a crater and hit his head. They both claimed to see it though, but the idea is just preposterous. I’m not even going to humor it by writing it here. The idea that there is anything other than the Elves and us on Secunda is just insane. Secunda is a dead rock. I don’t know how much the myths can be trusted, I honestly don’t, but some myths insist that Secunda is a fragment of Sehzarr’s divine corpse. If that were the case, seeing any sign of civilization would still be total lunacy. There is more than enough to contend with without having to think about the possibility of ruins or alien creatures. Again, I don’t know why I am even humoring this, nor should I.

13 Frostfall, 2E 1, Official Incident report

Captain Julius Corretus, Imperial Legion, Special Security Director, Royal Imperial Mananauts

On the morning of 13 Frostfall, myself and two other security officers traveled approximately 28 miles from the south side of the main Manannaut compound to investigate a report by one of the scientists that there was evidence of an Elvan presence in said location. Reports indicated that said, previously mentioned, location was the site of a number of loud, explosive nosies and bright light. There was reasonable suspicion that this sight was the base of operations of the Elves, and a small team was dispatched to gather covert intelligence and observation. Aside from provisions, all three members of our team were equipped with camouflage amulets. The team consisted of myself, Josiah of Sentinel and Georgios Clovos.

The journey to the location took approximately six hours on foot, and was uneventful. Upon reaching the location, we arrived to observe a large excavation site with a series of temporary structures erected around the site.

Our group planted ourselves on an obscured cliff face approximately 10 acres away from the central excavation area from which to observe the operations. Our view was obscured, and we spent approximately one hour in that location, unable to observe anything of significance. There was activity, but for what end, we were unsure. After that hour, our observation was interrupted. A party of approximately half a dozen elves passed a few yards past our location and attacked. Clovos was lost in the ensuing battle, and Josiah and I were both captured and bound by the elves. We had bags placed over our helmets and were taken two hour’s distance away, then deposited in a small iron room, with our blindfolds removed. The room was bare, save for a slightly dislodged panel. I observed this, and was able to cut my bindings using a sharp edge from the dislodged panel. I freed Josiah, and the two of us were able to pry the panel off, revealing that the system of walls within the structure were hollow, and able to fit a man. The two of us, crawling through the facility’s walls, managed to escape the compound. Observing the nirnset in the west, we concluded the facility was south of the Mananaut compound, and traveled north. Traveling for two hours, we managed to rediscover the excavation site. Unable to stop, as the site was still manned, we avoided detection and made our way make to to the Mananaut compound.

Throughout this ordeal, we were able to avoid questioning, and giving any specific information about our operations. However, it is now a known fact that the elves are aware that we are aware of their presence here.

13 Frostfall, 2E 1

Josiah and I agreed to remain silent about the details of what occurred. I was afraid that the Potentate would deem the mission too risky, and end the operation. I feel, factoring in what occurred, the Elves must be stopped. I believe that their success would not simply mean the end of the empire, but far greater consequences for the entirety of Nirn. I do not believe the Potenate would understand this. Josiah’s fears though, are far more bizarre. While our ordeal was certainly jarring, his reaction has gone beyond one that a trained military man should experience. He has spent the last day muttering to himself, shaking and has seemingly not slept or ate. I confronted him about what was troubling him, and his only response was to tell him a story. Apparently this story was a tale passed along in his family, a story shared by some Forbearer clans of the Redguards. The telling of this tale, he claimed, was outlawed by the Crown government of Hammerfell in the early days of the landing of the Redguards in Tamriel, and thus has almost died out, and is not known to many scholars. He claims that our experiences with the strange Elf that confronted us in the Altmer compound confirm this story. I can’t possibly see this as true, it is just entirely not possible.

The story goes that the Redguards, in their original homeland of Yokuda, for many years fought a war with a group of “left-handed elves”. He implies that the neither the elves, nor the redguards were originally a monolithic race, but due to years of war, the various men of Yokuda became one. The elves became two. Both groups guarded their own “tower”. One group, the “snake-elves”, fled into the sea and took their tower with them. The other, the “left-handed” elves remained and fought the Redguards. The Redguards were outmatched by the elves, for they were masters of the sword and possessed weapons of “of orichalc”. The tide changed when the Redguards were gifted with the weapons and techniques of the elves. The Crowns attribute this gift to an avatar of the Redguard’s war god, but Josiah claimed that these gifts were instead given by one of the elves’ own. This elf was the ruler of a petty Elvan city-state, Josiah referred to him as the “Shaazdeh”. He taught the Redguards how to defeat his kin, and they destroyed all of them, save for the Shaazdeh. Centuries later, the Reguards warred among themselves, and the Shaazdeh returned. He came to a band of sword-singers fighting in the war, and promised them that the defeat of their enemies lay within his people’s tower. The sword-singers arrived at the tower, and fought their way through legions of left-handed ghosts, to reach the top. At the top lay the keystone of the tower, Josiah referred to it as the “nothing-stone”, the “first germ” and the “prime atomos”. The stone was unbreakable, but the Shaazdeh taught them to use the “Pankratosword” and split the atomos. It was however, a trick. The deed was done, and the act summoned the “Terminal Fungus” or the “Myco-Nimbus”. Josiah associated this with the Redguards’ snake-deity Satakal. The initial act killed millions, and the rest were forced to flee to Tamriel as the continent began to sink, following the path of the snake-elves.

I know what Josiah means to imply, but I cannot believe him. I consider myself well-read, and have never heard this story before. Most of its contents sound like fantastical drivel, and make little sense. What as a “terminal fungus”? Why would this elf betray his own race? What would have been the significance of this tower? I believe that Josiah’s addled mind simply fabricated this story. Josiah is not as battle-hardened as I, and I fear the torture we experienced was too much for his psyche to handle. I did not mention this in the incident report, I know how the legion often does nothing for those suffering from mental aliments. He would have likely been removed from duty and left out in the streets. I cannot let such a fate befall him, as he has served loyally. Likewise though, I can no longer trust him on missions for the time being, his performance ability has almost certainly been compromised.