 Xahxes's Gift, Part II |
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| ID | T_Bk_XahxesGiftSHOTN_V2 | ||
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The following is a recording of Kervena, a Reachman matriarch of Old H'roldan. Transcribed by Janus Sarvenelus, agent from the Imperial Office of Reachmen Affairs. Old H'roldan. 3 Suns Height 3E 412
Part 2: Sheor the Tusked-Trickster
Now let me tell you of Sheor, also called the Tusked-Trickster. Sheor was trusted with the important duties of a scout and spent his days mapping the Steppes ahead of the tribe alongside his companion and lover, Kyne. In their seclusion did thoughts of menace manifest betwixt their rutting (who influenced the other I cannot say). It was on one night in a time without nights that The Accursed Two returned to the Celestial Camp.
"Holy hosts, I bring to you a mind of revelatory power. I mean to bring Mortality to Substance and I require the assistance of my brothers and sisters! Kyne herself has laid the foundation of our proposition. Heed her!"
So it was that many of the gods participated in the creation of Nirn, like Magnus Sun-Shaped, who worked with Kyne in the shaping the basis of the new reality. These beings would become the aedra. Those who sat and watched their brothers and sisters and did nothing (save the Funny-Man, who yelled and yelled for Zeyht to invent cheese) became the daedra.
It was just before their creation was finished that Sheor spoke once more:
"Brethren! We are but on the cusp of reaping the benefits of our toiling. I ask you to sing with me in celebration!"
ON THIS AUSPICIOUS DAY OF DAYS
SHEOR ASKS HIS EQUALS FOR THREE GIFTS
HE SHALL NAME THEM WITH HEART AFLUTTER:
LET THE DAWN BECOME NEW LIKE NO OTHER DAWN BEFORE
LET THE CORPSE OF THE OLD AND CYNICAL FORM THE FOUNDATION OF THE NEW AND HOPEFUL
AND LET NIRN BE TORN FROM THE MIND OF THE ARTISAN
AND BE MADE WHOLE INCARNATE
NE NU-MANTIA; ALTADOON LORKHJ
Then something horrible happened.
In the creation of this world, the aedra found themselves unable to move their tents and their herds of spectra refused to leave, mucking up the place with bleating. Worse yet, our ancestors were cursed with this mortality (this is why we tell our children to hold back tears when they scuffle their knees, to not grant the Trickster his due). The daedra watched on in a combination of envy, horror, and amusement at the expense of their kin.
"Why have you done this, brother?" cried Zeyht, his mouth spilling forth with locusts.
"You desire my motivations? Know this, for our children shall not! For-"
Yet Sheor was unable to complete his rambling diatribe, as Orc-Friend Trini himself set himself upon the traitor, pummeling him into theological particulates.