It is inevitable that all Kingdoms rise and fall. From the great continent spanning empires that rule the masses, to the resilient city states that endure the changing ages. From the unseen subterranean kingdoms of nature and beasts, to the smallest of the green skinned tribes. They all have their rise, their pinnacle, and their fall. But whilst the annals of the great empires and cities of Men and Mer are all recorded for posterity in great historical tomes, the histories of the smaller kingdoms, often pass unknown, unseen, and thus forgotten.

For them there are no tomes gathering dust in a mages college, or spinners stories spun, bards songs sung, or campfire tales told. But that doesn’t mean that their lineage never existed. For any form of society to survive, be they tribes, prides, packs or herds, they all need a leader. Although we may never know who reigned or for how long, or how they rose, or what was to be their downfall. And because their history is not recorded, or indeed cared for by the ‘enlightened races’, then even the all seeing golden eyes of Hermaeus Mora, neither sees nor records their rise and fall.

So here within the Bloodmayne Cave of Southern Cyrodiil, for the sake of ‘He Who Records All Knowledge’, I hear-by report the existence of a kingdom of giant insects, led by a Spriggan queen Acanthia, Chosen of Nirn, and her downfall by my blade. It will be for others to record if she is replaced and the kingdom rise again, or forever fall and to history forgot.

S.K