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| ID | 6772 | ||
| Collection | Dispatches from the Deadlands | ||
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Found in the following locations:
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As I learned mortal words after the successful hunt of Faulthalgor the Scribe and Sendel Omavel the Teacher, a new concept made itself known to me—mortal song.
A strange phenomenon wherein mortals produce sounds of various pitch according to some internal rhythm only they understand. The sounds are ordered in a sequence that apparently pleases mortals. I knew then that I must learn more.
I conjured my orb of the hunt for Svakhardt, a mortal from the northern areas of their lands. A renowned producer of song, according to my magics and scouts. Thus I pursued him, catching him unaware while he slept, intoxicated from various poison drinks the mortals regularly imbibe.
The knowledge of song coursed through my mind, as the lava cuts through stone. The flow of sound, various tempos, the calming effects it can have on creatures susceptible to its charms. It seems so frivolous, and yet universal to all on Nirn.
Mortals respect the producers of song, placing them in positions of honor. But they also diminish their place in society by forcing them to grovel for food. Such a conflict exemplifies the illogic of mortal existence.
I shall now summon a Dremora to transcribe for me. I wish to try my hand at song.