He is taking great pains to assure everyone that he is a loyal servant of the Dominion who is doing nothing to bring the wise Thalmor government into any disrepute. See, he even has a header to make sure you know that! But also, he doesnāt speak for the Thalmor, of course. They can speak for themselves. Or not, if they want to remain silent!
Noriel, short for Norieleanduril, is the silliest character in my entire OC network: an Altmer footsoldier from the peasant class of Summerset, stationed in Valenwood and rapidly relearning ideas about Altmer superiority, Bosmer culture, and whether coconuts should really be classified as meat under the Green Pact.Ā
Everyone else: I headcanon Valenwood in the Fourth Era as a repressive country, struggling under the Thalmorās purges and denigration of the Bosmer culture.
Me: So thereās this idiot Altmer low-class soldier and his posh Bosmer girlfriend, and then thereās his friend the Worst Spinner Ever etc.
I feel, though, like there may be dark things afoot in Valenwood, war and dissension and persecution, but there will always be some level of crazy chaos.Ā
The story of how Noriel met Firion is on A03.Ā Norieleandurilās Journal of Alaxxon, Being an Account of the Glorious Deeds of this Soldier of the Aldmeri Dominion in the Wilds of Valenwood
The Peasant Princess Rewritten (by an Actual Peasant)
Developed from asks originally on @norieleanduril into a post for r/teslore. I rewrite one of my least favourite ESO stories.
Preface by Alys Thierry, Scholar of Breton folklore.
Some years ago, before the War, I enjoyed the rare privilege of making a journey into Valenwood as an interpreter of Aldmeri languages for the Imperial envoy, Falco Attius. As a student of folklore, I was excited to speak with the locals about their regional tales and customs. Sadly, very few Dominion citizens felt comfortable enough to speak to an Imperial stranger. I should have expected that. There were few times that we were not accompanied by a pleasant but uninformative justiciar.
I had some rare successes with a handful of mer who were either daring enough to brave our justiciar's glares or so unobservant they did not notice them. Most memorable among the latter group was an Altmer footsoldier stationed in Falinesti who not only answered my inquiries but a few days later slipped meĀ a letterĀ to further elaborate on his answers.
This curious document was written in the common dialect of the Isles, consistent with the author's peasant-class background, but is peppered with more formal words and expressions. It would seem the author is imitating more erudite authors, with questionable success. I do hope the author was not punished for his association with me. He was very helpful in expanding my understanding of Altmer culture outside the hallowed halls of academia or court.
_____________________________________
Most Honoured Nebarra Lady,
You asked me if the mer of Summerset actually enjoy stories likeĀ The Peasant PrincessĀ and I was sorry to say I had never heard of it. But after we spoke, I went looking in an old library and found it. It's a very old play and indubitably one of the worst stories I've ever perused. It begins with a beautiful young servant girl whose mistress dresses her up as a princess to go to a ball. There, she meets a Kinlord who falls for her, and then when she tells him she's not actually a princess, he rants at her for tricking him. Then she realizes she should just be a servant, because her family are servants. The End. No wonder I never heard of this story before.
Sure, this is how it might happen in real life. But that doesn't make it a good story! I suppose this play was commissioned by some smug official to try to show the public a good moral exemplar. Town-reeves always put on the worst public entertainment.
The tales the common people actually enjoy back home are stories about clever farmers or labourers who run circles around their landlords and priests.
So, I have decided it would be meritorious to rewrite this playās ending so that it may educate the readerĀ in fullĀ about our traditional Altmer culture.
I'm keeping this part:
Narrator:Ā So great was Virenire's beauty, she caught the eye of the young prince. Forgetting all decorum, he went over to her and asked for a dance. And so the prince and the servant girl danced for a good portion of the night.
Prince:Ā I've never seen such a beautiful mer. Tell me, who are your parents?
Virenire:Ā Oh, dear prince, I feel I must be honest. My parents are poor peasants, and I but a serving girl to a wealthy mistress.
Narrator:Ā Gazing upon the beautiful eyes of such an entrancing mer, the good Prince came to a startling realization.
Prince:Ā Why, I've been tricked! Here I thought you were a noble mer of good standing, who I might court and one day wed. But you are a mere servant girl.
Now, this prince isn't going to marry a servant girl, of course, that would never happen. And he isn't a nice person, anyway, claiming she tricked him when she told him the truth the moment he asked. We need a better ending here. Virenire needs to use her brains and get what she deserves. It's time for her to turn in her Mistress.
See, the reason Virenire is at the Ball dressed up as a princess is that her Mistress wanted to show her how abject and low-class she was, even if she wore a beautiful dress. She was set up to fail by a woman who didn't care about her or the Princeās feelings. But the main character of a fairy tale should be quick-witted, so here's my new edition of her response.
Virenire:Ā Oh dear prince, I would never have dared trick you. I am only here at my Mistress' command. If she designed a slight against you, forgive me my ignorance. I am just a simple serving girl who knows her place and does as her lady tells her.
The prince then takes out his anger on that viper Lady Teryldil, who is called away to the capital to face the displeasure of the Princeās Kinship. Virenire keeps all the jewels and the dress, which she later uses as a dowry to marry a decent young man she'd already had her eye on.
The story is now greatly improved, and think I will petition the village puppeteer to do a performance next time I'm home in Auridon.
You also wanted to know if there was a Valenwood version of this story. I asked my Spinner friend Galethor, since he is a master of all Valenwood lore. He says he has never heard such a story but if it was set in Valenwood, the serving girl would reveal to the prince that she is a long-lost offshoot of the Camoran family, the prince would marry her to secure his claim, and together theyād start a new Civil War for the throne at Elden Root.
He may have been joking, but doesn't that sound a lot like the chapters on Valenwood history in the official Dominion textbooks?
Your Honoured Informant,
[Name Redacted to protect the author's identity.]
_____________
Notes:
The Peasant Princess, A Play in One ActĀ is subtitled AĀ demoralizing tale surrounding the Altmer's adherence to tradition.Ā And boy is it demoralizing! It's a lesson taughtĀ toĀ the people to keep in their place.
But I wondered if this is really the sort of story that the peasants themselves would tell. Enter Norieleanduril, Noriel for short,Ā who previously has been my voiceĀ for the common Summerset folk. With Noriel I try to avoid the usual character tropes (mine too) of Altmer scholars, aristocrats and justiciars, and instead present a more down-to-earth perspective of life for the regular person in Summerset, who has some of the prejudices and beliefs taught by the priests and upper classes, but with their own perspective. (Though he's probably 100 percent sillier than most regular Altmer.)
So Altmer can live to be like 300 and usually only have one kid. Wouldnāt that be hell on their society? A perpetually aging population for centuries who are having at most two kids? Net zero population growth. A lot of their youth also probably run off and die in war or Daedric conflict or dragon attacks since those seem to happen constantly.
from what I know, one Altmer can have a maximum of four children in their entire lifetime. and given the casualties of the Oblivion Crisis (which was also the reason their lifespan was shortened to 300, thanks to the collapse of the Crystal Tower - this part is my headcanon so take it with a grain of salt) as well as the Great War, surely the Thalmor is in some way encouraging rebuilding the population, for their ranks or otherwise. they might have to set aside all of that "superior breeding" stuff, technically they wouldn't care if the new recruits have features that deviate from ideal Altmeri beauty standards (if this whole arranged marriage for selective breeding thing wasn't just restricted to nobility in the first place), as long as they can fight and serve, but these ones will likely still get discriminated against nonetheless. oh, and interbreeding with other races, whether human or elven, is forbidden, naturally.
Wait, why are you calling me out? I haven't had kids with anyone yet!
Anyway, there are definitely more than one kid in a typical Altmer family, otherwise there'd be no Altmer at all by now. Which I personally believe would be a bad thing but I suppose it would make the Maormer happy.
What common Altmer beliefs about Valenwood have you discovered to be totally wrong?
The Rite of Theft is only a thing in old books. People actually get really angry if you steal their stuff, not impressed by how well you're fitting in and honouring their culture.
I pretended in a hurry that I picked up that apple and forgot to pay by accident.
Did you ever go on that post-Heart's Day romantic trip?
Yes, Firion and I went to the seaside, up on the Broken Coast near Velyn Harbor. There was a little cottage we rented for a few days that came with a spyglass to watch for invading Maormer, sea-serpents, pirates, and Imperial navy. None of them came, which was a relief. Actually, the last time anyone invaded the Broken Coast was centuries ago and the Dominion navy keeps it safe. But it was fun using the spyglass and imagining how we would deal with invaders.
I pursued my plan of learning more extensively of the local culture of the Bosmer of this region, and for my efforts, have gained a collection of intriguing cultural artefacts.
A different hand interrupts here:
The kids playing on the beach gave him shells with sea glass eyes glued on. Noriel definitely became renowned as the kindly Altmer visitor on whom they could dump their half-baked crafts.
Back to Noriel's writing:
But they are very pretty! I never would have thought of using sea glass to give cockle shells eyes and little sticks as legs! They look like something that could live in Morrowind, don't you think?
What is your take on the controversial "Racial Phylogeny"?
Is that the belief you can tell what race people are by feeling the bumps on their skull?
I don't think that would work generally except in Valenwood you might be able to confirm they're Bosmer if you find bumps where they are growing antlers.
This elegant young Bosmer is Firion's youngest brother, Maeroth Camoran. He is named after a famous Vinedusk Ranger so I first assumed the bird was for hunting or tracking prey through the trackless wilds of Valenwood, or carrying messages, or being a very magical familiar.
But it turned out that it's a "neat-looking bird I found in the branches of my friend's home."
It says "Caa" and will eat seeds out of your hand which is fine with everyone even Green Pact believers because it's a bird and birds don't have to keep the Green Pact.
But it will also eat meat. It stole half my steak the other week when I was visiting Firion's family for supper.
Privately, the family is disappointed in Maeroth for his lack of ambition and running around with this bird, but I suppose he is quite amusing to talk to.
It's a problem.
Usually, it's just Norieleanduril 'len Adorieleanwen 'ata Thurinil 'cal Ilinbekai.
That's my mum and my dad and my dad's family origin, town called Ilinbek that the family is named after. That's the most anyone in ordinary life wants to know, your name, who your parents are, and where your folk are from.
But for formal use, we do have longer names, and that's always been problem for me. My mom's dad is Apraxic, which means that legally he doesn't exist. That means my full name is
which immediately tells everyone that my maternal grandfather is either unknown or apraxic. It's a disgrace every time I have to use my full name.
I am looking forward to my non-existent grandfather finishing repairing his Calian, so he can exist again. I'd like to get to know him, but also to finally have a full respectable name.
Are you doing your part to raise up new citizens for the Dominion?
That's not part of my duties. Where would I even find them? Everyone in Valenwood already is a citizen except for traders from other lands, and I don't suppose my superiors would sanction me asking Colovian merchants to join the Dominion and become citizens.
This might be thought of as a rude question, but I have to ask. How much are you being paid? How much is your salary..?! Inns aren't cheap, but surely a valued asset such as yourself is being rewarded with enough that a night's stay won't put a dent in your post-Heart's Day Heart's Day celebrations?! Responding in drakes is absolutely fine, considering some Mer may not know how to do currency conversion - or as we call it, conMersion - in their head.
Trying to convert into Imperial currency started a very strange adventure which ended with a long interview with the Bureau of Weights, Measures, and Extra-Dominion Trade who wanted to know why I wanted to know. Was I engaging in an an un-authorized cross-border business venture without paying taxes? It took a long while to convince them I was just curious and even longer when the official on duty believed me and then gave me a lesson in currency fluctuations in Tamriel.
Anyhow, I don't know where you got the idea that I was a valued asset to the Dominion. I suppose the Dominion does value the service of all its people, but it's taken for granted that everyone does their duty by serving and I'm not a battlemage or a skilled scout or anything interesting. I get paid five true gold Eagles a week, which may not seem very much, but I don't pay for my room or board in the army, so I end up with more money than I need. I send a quarter of my pay to my parents. It's a small sum but it's a token of respect and I hope they use it on small comforts like fancy teas and candles. One day, I would like to give them much more.
The truth about the inn is Firion will be paying most of the bill. My comrade said, "isn't that humiliating? Here you are a warrior of Summerset, relying on the charity of a Bosmer girl." And I said no, I am not letting myself feel humiliated by our narrow ideas of pride anymore. Firion doesn't want to stay in the type of place I could afford on my own, so why shouldn't she spend her money on something better? I'm still paying what I can, and one day, my fortunes may improve and if she tragically lost her family fortune (which will never happen) I would happily pay for her.
Guarding a gate.
It may just be a coincidence, but ever since I started going out with Firion publicly, I always seem to be on duty during big holidays and feasts. Even if everyone else in my unit is off, I'm guarding a gate.
Firion says don't be paranoid, they haven't sent you back to Summerset, so it's probably all right. But I don't know.
Anyhow, it's a very picturesque quaint gate, everyone calls it the Oblivion Gate because the story is that it's partly built with rocks from one of those, but it really is made out of stones repurposed from the old Imperial fort that used to be here once upon a time before the Restoration. This is all what the tour guide who comes by here twice a day says.
Next time I get leave, Firion and I will have our own Hearts' Day celebration even though we'll have to pay for our inn room, which is a true let-down. Free inn rooms are the whole point of Hearts' Day.
(Firion's remark: Free room at the inn probably means bunking with five different couples all separated by blankets.
Noriel: But it's the experience that's important.)
