#veloth

BRETON SAINTS

Ellenica -- a priestess of Arkay, whose prayer book became a holy relic with passages that can put the dead to rest. in my experience, can be invoked when performing work beyond the veil, to banish evil ghosts, and to settle ghosts.

Marben -- a saint of Arkay. not much is known of Him in TES lore, but in my experience, He can be invoked for matters of ancestor work and working with the dead.

Octavien -- a priest of Arkay. not much is known of Him in TES lore, but in my experience, He helps with grieving and coming to peace with death.

Pelin -- a Breton priest of Stendarr. was memorialized for his divine act in the defense of the Bangkorai Garrison in 1E 1029, which in turn lead to the province of High Rock into the Fine Empire of Cyrodiil. he was memorialized by the Order of Saint Pelin, the knightly order of the Kingdom of Evermore, a chapel in Evermore, and a great cemetery. invoked for matters of protection of those of faith.

Stental -- slew the demon of Overlook Hill, rescuing the three Sisters of Kynareth from an untimely death. invoked for protection, defeating evil, being "saved" from harm, and similar matters.

Vitache -- patron of millers, scissor-grinders, and bathhouse attendants. invoked for self-care and work.

DUNMER SAINTS

Greater Saints

Almalexia the Warden -- healers, teachers. invoked for healing, to learn lessons.

Sotha Sil the Magus -- artificers, wizards. invoked for magic, tinkering with objects, things like car repairs, etc.

Vivec the Poet -- artists, rogues. invoked for things with a dual nature, for creativity.

Nerevar the Captain -- warriors, statesmen, House Redoran. invoked for battle, for fighting back against harm, for winning.

Neloth the Pilgrim -- outcasts, seekers, House Hlaalu. canonized for guiding the now Dunmer to now Morrowind, and guiding them to worship the Daedra. invoked for learning about spirituality, for learning about the Three Good Daedra, for moving home.

Lesser Saints

Aralor the Penitent -- tanners, miners. canonized for repenting his crimes and performing the great pilgrimage on his knees as proof of his repentance. invoked for learning from your sins, for fortifying character.

Delyn the Wise - potters, glassmakers. canonized for using his skills as a lawyer to build many laws and customs for Tribunal life. invoked for resistance to disease.

Felms the Bold -- butchers, fishmongers. canonized for driving Nordic invaders out of Morrowind, despite not being able to read or write, only hearing Almalexia's voice in his head and following Tribunal orders. invoked for recovery from spells.

Jiub the Eradicator of the Winged Menace -- canonized for driving the Cliffracers out of Morrowind, ending their species. invoked for dealing with difficult things, and defeating hardship.

Meris the Peacemaker -- farmers, laborers. canonized for risking her life to end a long and bloody House War. invoked for healing and making peace.

Llothis the Pious -- tailors, dyers, House Dres. canonized for building many of the temple rituals and principles of the Tribunal faith. invoked for learning about the Tribunal faith, for fortifying will.

Olms the Just -- sailors, chandlers, clerks, House Indoril. canonized for founding the Ordinators. invoked for repentance, enduring tests, and resisting common illness.

Rilms the Barefooted -- pilgrims, beggars. canonized for giving up her shoes to a beggar, then dressed and appeared as a beggar to better acquaint herself with the poor. invoked for dealing with poverty, enduring hardships.

Roris the Martyr -- furnishers, caravaners. canonized for being captured by Argonians, killed for not revoking his faith, and then subsequently a war happened for his justice. invoked fortifying health, holding onto faith during hard times.

Seryn the Merciful -- brewers, bakers, distillers. canonized for his ability to take disease upon herself, which is a burden she held and practiced until her old age. invoked for healing from illness.

Vorys the Immolant -- House Telvanni. unclear why he was canonized, and generally fell out of reverence due to being "a bit unsavory". however, can be invoked for power.

IMPERIAL SAINTS

Allessia -- Patron Saint of Humanity, first empress of Cyrodiil, who freed humanity from the Ayleids. invoked for freeing from harm and strife. can also be considered patron of minotaurs, due to giving birth to one and starting their race.

Balyna -- Patron Saint of Mara. her dedication inspired many more to worship the Nine like she did. invoked for healing, restoration spells, and more.

Coellicia -- was a martyr of the Alessian Rebellion, who died from torture. invoked for survival, and enduring hard times.

Errandil -- living Saint of Arkay. not much is known of him other than his part in outlawing necromancy. unsure what they'd be invokved for.

Jahn -- nothing about them canonically. unsure what they'd be invoked for.

Kaladas the Architect -- saint of Zenithar. built the Great Chapel of Zenithar in Leyawiin. invoked for construction, and following great religious paths.

Olava the Fair -- living Saint of Mara. not much is known of her other than her tireless, but daunting, work to heal and protect. invoked for healing and protection.

Osla -- saint of Sancre Tor. a healer, was present at the battle of Sancre Tor. invoked for healing.

Pelinal -- the Divine Crusader. one of two champions of Alessia. has a lot of interesting history too long to put here, so I'd check out his UESP page. invoked for battle, retribution, and justice.

Plenty -- nothing about them canonically. unsure what they'd be invoked for.

Kassur shooed Jerky off the bed and stood. He lit the fire in the center of the yurt with a quick spell. It often wasn’t until he did this that he remembered precisely where he was. He’d stolen this yurt, disassembled, from the Ahemmusa camp before he left in the middle of the night, sneaking away right under the night sentinels’ noses. It took several trips to carry everything, and he still had to find some of his own materials (mostly to patch up holes in the rarely-used guarskin canvas), but it was worth it to start out fresh with a sheltered place to sleep. 

Kassur’s stomach rumbled. He reached into the sack of ashyams by the bed - no luck, all empty. Damn. He’d taken that sack when it was taut full with them. He couldn’t risk going back; even though they’d abandoned the old camp north of Vos, they’d no doubt have people coming by periodically to make sure the supplies they left behind were unmolested. They’d have his hands for sure if he was caught. 

Kassur sighed and opened his basket of wickwheat flatbreads and threw one on the grill over the fire. He also dropped a trama nub into the pot of water he’d gathered last night and hung it over the flames. 

Kassur sat on the floor of the yurt and soaked in the heat. He leaned his head back on the bed and started to doze…

He snatched his hand away before Jerky could bite it again. He quickly grabbed the hot flatbread from the grill before it burned, but the grill marks were very dark. He sighed and poured himself a cup of over-steeped trama tea as he took a bite of the bland bread. He took a sip and relished the warmth and lifting feeling of the drink, seeming to elevate his mind and wake him up. 

Once he finished eating and drinking, he grabbed his shirt and pulled it on. It was a terribly itchy garment, of House mer make, and he hated wearing it. But he needed to make an effort to blend in, and what he’d rather wear would make him stand out more than he already does. 

Kassur glanced at the shoes in the corner. He shook his head and walked out of the yurt without them. The soft Grazelands earth was soft beneath his bare feet. 

Kassur had set up his yurt very close to Vos, just around a small hill. He could look northwest and see Tel Vos towering in the distance. He spat in its direction and made for Vos.

Vos was a tangle of squat adobe buildings and giant fungal roots. It reminded Kassur of a trama shrub deprived of its thorns. 

The thorns are the people, Kassur thought cynically. But he cleared his mind of the idea as he stepped through the gate, a ring of fungal mass attached to the rest of the tendrils. There was a saccharine kind of pleasantness the House mer put on constantly, and he tried to emulate it. It seemed pointless to him, to wear a disguise like that. But he needed to get used to their ways. He was stuck with them, now. 

He tried to cheer himself up by pretending he was Mephala wearing one of her many masks. That made sense to him; keep a hand behind your back when near your enemies. But these House mer didn’t even worship Mephala, so he didn’t understand where they got it from. 

Kassur approached the Chapel’s doors and hesitated, as he always did. Was he really ready for such a leap? To abandon his ancestors and throw in his lot with the three impostors?

He shook his head pointedly, although no one saw him. He didn’t have to make that decision yet; he was just learning Dunmeris right now. He opened the door and strode in confidently. 

Yakin Bael was sitting across the room, holding a small prayerbook in one hand and studying it. At Kassur’s entrance he looked up past his small spectacles. 

(Spectacles. What a strange invention of the House mer and outlanders! Magic could just as easily repair poor eyesight. Why rely on thin circles of glass to do the same, such easily shattered things?)

Yakin was an old mer - almost preternaturally so, given that he was probably Telvanni. Despite this, his hair was dark reddish-brown, with scarcely a gray hair in sight. His longevity, he would say, was owed not to any magical prolonging, but to simple good health. Kassur knew, however, that he was a master of the art of Restoration, and was likely lying.

“Welcome, Kassur,” Yakin said, in Dunmeris, putting down his prayerbook. “Shall we get straight to your lessons?”

Kassur knew enough Dunmeris to be slightly dangerous. So long as someone spoke slowly - as Yakin did by his very nature - he could make out the gist of what they were saying. He struggled, however, with producing some of the strange sounds the language relied on. He was also being taught to read and write, and while he could almost reliably do the former, his hand shook too much for the latter; he could never get the grip on the pen or brush right.

Thankfully, Yakin was not only a patient teacher, but a native speaker of Velothi, too. This helped immensely to help translate certain nigh-untranslatable things, as well as in giving Kassur an out when he was too tired to speak Dunmeris. 

As he was now. He needed to save his energy for later today. “Can we keep this lesson short, kena?” Kassur asked in Velothi. “I am expected in…Mushroom Forest later today.”

“Sadrith Mora,” Yakin corrected, still speaking Dunmeris. “And yes, that is amenable.” He gestured towards one of the walls, upon which was a mural of the three impostors. 

“Azura’s starry tits,” whispered Kassur before raising his voice to reply, “Not there.”

Apparently Yakin heard the expletive. “You should say something like, ‘Seht’s shiny beard’ instead. Or even ‘b’Vehk.’” He seemed to blush as he caught himself. “But I shouldn’t be encouraging you to say profanities.”

“Sorry, kena,” said Kassur, emphasizing by speaking polite Dunmeris. “Can we study over there, please?” He pointed at the wall of the chapel with the mural of Veloth leading his people to Morrowind.

Those who were chosen, who could claim that they had the blood of gods in their veins, would rule in their ancestors’ steads. For it was they who most resembled them in appearance, word and deed, and to the Aldmer this was prized above all. But those who were not chosen, those without ties, or who had forgotten to record them, were forsaken by this new order. They could claim descent from no tribe, and belonged in no caste. It was and is their lot in life to ensure the menial maintenence of Summerset for Auriel’s descendants, never to rise above their station.

That was how Aldmeris died; not with the exile of the velothi, or the dissidence of the dwemer, or even the schism of the Maormer. Aldmer became Altmer when they succumbed fully to the yolk of Auriel’s legacy, and this is when the troubles began.

The stationless were discontent, but without argument. They had no ancestors or gods of their own and no land where they could live free. Then, a development: A humble tradesmer named Veloth began to speak out against the ways of the Altmer, castigating their ways and their ancestors, even forsaking the name of Auriel, their king. Said Veloth: If we are ourselves not welcome at the hearths of your ancestors, if we are not capable of perpetuating their legacy, then continuing to facilitate the continuation of either is meaningless. We shall claim ancestors of our own, and we shall perpetuate their legacy instead. He granted to his not-ancestor a name: Boethiah, and all were welcome to join in this ancestor’s tribe without regard for birth or circumstance. Boethiah’s worship exploded throughout the countryside among the tribeless and forsaken.

To the Altmer this was vile heresy, for Boethiah was not their ancestor, and to perpetuate the lineage of one who was not your ancestor was an absurd notion (to many today it still is). The High King of Summerset set Trinimac’s tribe against the heretics, believing that Veloth’s movement could be crushed before it managed to spread any further than it already had.

So Trinimac’s host set out, and before long the children of Trinimac and the children of Boethiah confronted eachother, and all expected for there to be violence. But Veloth saw all aldmer as Boethiah’s children equally, and spoke to Trinimac’s descendants, and they in turn listened. Miraculously, Trinimac’s children are swayed by his logic. They agree that the Altmer have become too rigid, that their castes and strictures have become decadent and fruitless, that their mission of perpetuation is doomed. Trinimac’s kind viewed change as inevitable, and so inevitably embraced change themselves.

But Trinimac’s children did not embrace the same methods as the Velothi. Instead, they go even further. They renounce the worship of the ancestors in its entirety, for just as the altmer have succumbed to emulating their ancestors, Trinimac’s tribe foresee that Veloth’s children too will become consumed with their worship, if not more slowly. They even renounce Trinimac’s name, with all its ties to Aldmeris that it evokes, and speak a new name: Malacath, the Exiled one.