"It is hard to describe the feeling of being in the presence of a god. Like seaweed washed up by waves? As though one is a vine clinging to the side of a mountain? It is a feeling of being small, humbling. As I stood before the levitating Lord, I was reminded of my youth and my first sight of the sea as the swamps of Argonia gave way to the shore. It was there that I found my calling, there the land and sky spoke to me in whispered words like rolling waves. I could feel life all around me then, speaking and singing, seeking to be shaped."
"In Vivec's presence I felt something similar, but also slightly off. Here in this grand temple where each colour was a sight to see and each pattern conveyed a meaning, I felt that same humbling sensation of being near something unimaginably vast, but also distant, remote. I can feel the petals as they bloom, when I am properly attuned, but here I feel as though I am the flower. Like the land I sense or the ancient yew, where birds are my eyes and leaves are my ears, Lord Vivec needs another point of view."
"His power is weakening, and it's more than the effort needed to keep the moonlet in the sky so I am to investigate three places, starting with Balmora. First, I needed to look at some frescoes... The whole city is a a monument of pride to the Three. I am unsure about this Vivec, even the Shrine of Generosity meant to commemorate the lost is in his likeness. He can keep a rock afloat above the city, can levitate around the room, but he can't help those trapped under wooden beams or those who have been crushed to death when building this place. Is it apathy or love? His priorities are not my own."
"I then read some books in the library where a minature model of Vvardenfell is being constructed. Agreed to take rubbings of tombs to help. Not sure why."
"The Divine Inquiry in Balmora was delayed, for I felt I needed to find and familiarise myself with the native fauna. I had an encounter with another Hive Golem."
"There was a book in the library about these cuties."
The Vvardvark Experiment
By Magister Varkenel, Telvanni Mage
What have I done?
It was but a simple experiment. A transmutation of features, a brand new fauna to bring to Vvardenfell. And what did I create? For perhaps the first time in my career, I wish I had failed. What sort of Telvanni mage am I to say such a thing?
I made the immediate decision to destroy my creation. Yes, it was not inherently evil, or dangerous, or any of the traits normally associated with regrettable experiments. But it haunted me with its unnatural form, its protruding head, its fusion of scales and fur. I knew I had to destroy it.
My deep sense of curiosity was my downfall. My mind was made up to undo what I had done, but I was too vain to let my experiment be destroyed before setting up at least the most basic of tests. I was in the middle of one when my darling little girl burst into my office with her daily demand for sweets.
How this creature entrapped my daughter I will never know, but she was immediately besotted by it. She took that vile thing in her arms and began to coo. Its revolting tongue stretched from its snout and rubbed against her arm, and rather than cry out in horror she simply laughed and said, "Oh, father, what a cute little beastie! Whatever is it called?"
I had no choice but to think of a name. She demanded it as a pet, and I cannot say no to those sweet, crimson eyes. But I refuse to agree to her newest request, a family for the horrid thing. One of these creatures living within the world is horrible enough, but at least I did not create an immortal.
Master Scaly-Tale's death will be the end to his species, mark my words. Never will I allow my beloved Vvardenfell to be overrun by creatures so revoltingly ... cute.
"Ah, a chance to take a rubbing for the library too. Such a beautiful day, how the grass and flowers sing!"
"I have yet to spot the famous Cliff Racer. So far I have only seen a small Cliff Skipper..."
"...And their much larger egg-brothers."
"It is best to show one's respect and keep a safe distance from these incredible creatures."
Vassir Didanat Mine: Ebony is a substance whose aquisition and use tempt mortals into acts of achievement that transcend their usual limitations. Did Lorkhan intend this? Alas, the concept is self-referential and therefore nugatory. ~ Divayth fyr.
"The greatest depravity I had yet seen occurred within the depths of this mine. Where even the roots of trees fear to venture, Vile deeds had been done to the miners working here. Turned by alchemy into an ebony parady, I waded through poison mist and mutated mer beyond salvation. One book caught my eye."
The Vile Truth of Barbas
From the notes of Pelagius Habor, Council Daedrologist-in-Residence, Imperial City
Every true Daedrologist has a favorite Prince. We rarely admit it, but it's true. Each Prince, while horrifying, has a curious and often hilarious quirk. Sheogorath's peculiarities are well known, but when you really think about it, all the Princes are a bit silly. Hircine has the clumsy head of an ungulate. Sanguine is an inveterate drunk. It's precisely these eccentricities that make the Princes a source of endless fascination for Daedrologists such as myself. Unlike the stuffy and aloof Aedra, the Princes suffer from the same neuroses, flaws, and childish fixations that trouble men and mer. They are more like us than we care to admit. As for me? Of all the Daedric Princes, Clavicus Vile is my favorite - and it has everything to do with his loyal hound, Barbas.
I have come to believe that Clavicus Vile is unique in that he exists in two persons. This is, of course, the subject of vigorous debate in Daedrological circles. Many of my confederates would argue that Barbas is merely a greater Daedric servant - no more linked to Vile than a horse is linked to its rider. But I urge you to consider the evidence. The first and most obvious proof of their consubstantiality is found in art. Crude, hand-carved idols dating back to the early Merethic Era depict the masked figure of Clavicus Vile standing beside a large hound, as do ancient cave paintings. I have explored the width and breadth of Tamriel in search of Daedric oddities, and in all my travels I have never found any depiction of Vile that does not include Barbas at his side. I've also read hundreds of firsthand accounts detailing encounters with the Prince. Each of those accounts, without exception, features Barbas in some capacity.
If we accept the premise that Clavicus Vile and Barbas are (at least in some sense) the same person, the natural question is "Why?" Why would an entity possessing godlike power allow itself to be bifurcated? I have a number of hypotheses, but my best guess is simply this: companionship. The "life" of a Prince is one of near-total isolation. Some Princes, like Hermaeus Mora and Nocturnal, appear to revel in this solitude. But everything we know of Clavicus Vile indicates that he is a profoundly social being. His love of bartering, his willingness to bestow wishes upon those that engage with him, his bewitching mask - each of these things point to a being that thrives on interaction, conversation, and play. A being so inclined would likely go mad without some companion to speak to, argue with, and complain about. One might even view it as a marriage of sorts, albeit an inverted one. Rather than two becoming one, as in the Pledge of Mara, one has become two - a paradoxical reversal of the Aedric ritual.
"But why a dog?" you ask? I've puzzled over this for years. Again, I can offer little more than supposition. My best guess is that it has to do with power roles. If Clavicus Vile sheared off a larger share of his animus to create an equal, the two would plot and scheme against each other constantly. In creating a canine counterpart, Vile ensures his position as master. Dogs are ancient symbols of loyalty and submission. They are servants and never masters. So it is with Barbas.
Of course, Barbas is not always a dog. Like other Daedric Princes, Barbas can present himself in a number of different forms. He has appeared as both man and mer, as animals, lesser Daedra, even inanimate objects! This ability to bend his shape, but retain his fundamental animus is a power that no other Daedra on record has been able to replicate - aside from Princes, that is. Coincidence? I think not.
We will likely never know Barbas's true nature with certainty, but the evidence points me to only one conclusion: Barbas and Clavicus Vile are one person in two forms. The master is also the servant. The handler is also the hound. It's a unique and fascinating paradox - the sort of mystery that makes Daedrology worth studying!
"After all that unpleasantness and the double-dealings of Hlaalu merchants, watching the sun rise over Balmora was a calming influence."
"It is hard to describe the feeling of being in the presence of a god. Like seaweed washed up by waves? As though one is a vine clinging to the side of a mountain? It is a feeling of being small, humbling. As I stood before the levitating Lord, I was reminded of my youth and my first sight of the sea as the swamps of Argonia gave way to the shore. It was there that I found my calling, there the land and sky spoke to me in whispered words like rolling waves. I could feel life all around me then, speaking and singing, seeking to be shaped."
"In Vivec's presence I felt something similar, but also slightly off. Here in this grand temple where each colour was a sight to see and each pattern conveyed a meaning, I felt that same humbling sensation of being near something unimaginably vast, but also distant, remote. I can feel the petals as they bloom, when I am properly attuned, but here I feel as though I am the flower. Like the land I sense or the ancient yew, where birds are my eyes and leaves are my ears, Lord Vivec needs another point of view."
"His power is weakening, and it's more than the effort needed to keep the moonlet in the sky so I am to investigate three places, starting with Balmora. First, I needed to look at some frescoes... The whole city is a a monument of pride to the Three. I am unsure about this Vivec, even the Shrine of Generosity meant to commemorate the lost is in his likeness. He can keep a rock afloat above the city, can levitate around the room, but he can't help those trapped under wooden beams or those who have been crushed to death when building this place. Is it apathy or love? His priorities are not my own."
"I then read some books in the library where a minature model of Vvardenfell is being constructed. Agreed to take rubbings of tombs to help. Not sure why."
"The Divine Inquiry in Balmora was delayed, for I felt I needed to find and familiarise myself with the native fauna. I had an encounter with another Hive Golem."
"There was a book in the library about these cuties."
The Vvardvark Experiment
By Magister Varkenel, Telvanni Mage
What have I done?
It was but a simple experiment. A transmutation of features, a brand new fauna to bring to Vvardenfell. And what did I create? For perhaps the first time in my career, I wish I had failed. What sort of Telvanni mage am I to say such a thing?
I made the immediate decision to destroy my creation. Yes, it was not inherently evil, or dangerous, or any of the traits normally associated with regrettable experiments. But it haunted me with its unnatural form, its protruding head, its fusion of scales and fur. I knew I had to destroy it.
My deep sense of curiosity was my downfall. My mind was made up to undo what I had done, but I was too vain to let my experiment be destroyed before setting up at least the most basic of tests. I was in the middle of one when my darling little girl burst into my office with her daily demand for sweets.
How this creature entrapped my daughter I will never know, but she was immediately besotted by it. She took that vile thing in her arms and began to coo. Its revolting tongue stretched from its snout and rubbed against her arm, and rather than cry out in horror she simply laughed and said, "Oh, father, what a cute little beastie! Whatever is it called?"
I had no choice but to think of a name. She demanded it as a pet, and I cannot say no to those sweet, crimson eyes. But I refuse to agree to her newest request, a family for the horrid thing. One of these creatures living within the world is horrible enough, but at least I did not create an immortal.
Master Scaly-Tale's death will be the end to his species, mark my words. Never will I allow my beloved Vvardenfell to be overrun by creatures so revoltingly ... cute.
"Ah, a chance to take a rubbing for the library too. Such a beautiful day, how the grass and flowers sing!"
"I have yet to spot the famous Cliff Racer. So far I have only seen a small Cliff Skipper..."
"...And their much larger egg-brothers."
"It is best to show one's respect and keep a safe distance from these incredible creatures."
Vassir Didanat Mine: Ebony is a substance whose aquisition and use tempt mortals into acts of achievement that transcend their usual limitations. Did Lorkhan intend this? Alas, the concept is self-referential and therefore nugatory. ~ Divayth fyr.
"The greatest depravity I had yet seen occurred within the depths of this mine. Where even the roots of trees fear to venture, Vile deeds had been done to the miners working here. Turned by alchemy into an ebony parady, I waded through poison mist and mutated mer beyond salvation. One book caught my eye."
The Vile Truth of Barbas
From the notes of Pelagius Habor, Council Daedrologist-in-Residence, Imperial City
Every true Daedrologist has a favorite Prince. We rarely admit it, but it's true. Each Prince, while horrifying, has a curious and often hilarious quirk. Sheogorath's peculiarities are well known, but when you really think about it, all the Princes are a bit silly. Hircine has the clumsy head of an ungulate. Sanguine is an inveterate drunk. It's precisely these eccentricities that make the Princes a source of endless fascination for Daedrologists such as myself. Unlike the stuffy and aloof Aedra, the Princes suffer from the same neuroses, flaws, and childish fixations that trouble men and mer. They are more like us than we care to admit. As for me? Of all the Daedric Princes, Clavicus Vile is my favorite - and it has everything to do with his loyal hound, Barbas.
I have come to believe that Clavicus Vile is unique in that he exists in two persons. This is, of course, the subject of vigorous debate in Daedrological circles. Many of my confederates would argue that Barbas is merely a greater Daedric servant - no more linked to Vile than a horse is linked to its rider. But I urge you to consider the evidence. The first and most obvious proof of their consubstantiality is found in art. Crude, hand-carved idols dating back to the early Merethic Era depict the masked figure of Clavicus Vile standing beside a large hound, as do ancient cave paintings. I have explored the width and breadth of Tamriel in search of Daedric oddities, and in all my travels I have never found any depiction of Vile that does not include Barbas at his side. I've also read hundreds of firsthand accounts detailing encounters with the Prince. Each of those accounts, without exception, features Barbas in some capacity.
If we accept the premise that Clavicus Vile and Barbas are (at least in some sense) the same person, the natural question is "Why?" Why would an entity possessing godlike power allow itself to be bifurcated? I have a number of hypotheses, but my best guess is simply this: companionship. The "life" of a Prince is one of near-total isolation. Some Princes, like Hermaeus Mora and Nocturnal, appear to revel in this solitude. But everything we know of Clavicus Vile indicates that he is a profoundly social being. His love of bartering, his willingness to bestow wishes upon those that engage with him, his bewitching mask - each of these things point to a being that thrives on interaction, conversation, and play. A being so inclined would likely go mad without some companion to speak to, argue with, and complain about. One might even view it as a marriage of sorts, albeit an inverted one. Rather than two becoming one, as in the Pledge of Mara, one has become two - a paradoxical reversal of the Aedric ritual.
"But why a dog?" you ask? I've puzzled over this for years. Again, I can offer little more than supposition. My best guess is that it has to do with power roles. If Clavicus Vile sheared off a larger share of his animus to create an equal, the two would plot and scheme against each other constantly. In creating a canine counterpart, Vile ensures his position as master. Dogs are ancient symbols of loyalty and submission. They are servants and never masters. So it is with Barbas.
Of course, Barbas is not always a dog. Like other Daedric Princes, Barbas can present himself in a number of different forms. He has appeared as both man and mer, as animals, lesser Daedra, even inanimate objects! This ability to bend his shape, but retain his fundamental animus is a power that no other Daedra on record has been able to replicate - aside from Princes, that is. Coincidence? I think not.
We will likely never know Barbas's true nature with certainty, but the evidence points me to only one conclusion: Barbas and Clavicus Vile are one person in two forms. The master is also the servant. The handler is also the hound. It's a unique and fascinating paradox - the sort of mystery that makes Daedrology worth studying!
"After all that unpleasantness and the double-dealings of Hlaalu merchants, watching the sun rise over Balmora was a calming influence."
