During the strangle of Elinhir, a rogue member of the Blackcaster Mages Guild led a small group of citizens to seek sanctuary in the sewers beneath the city, unbeknownst that just a feet from their shelter a far more sinister ritual was being enacted by the Lost Aspect.

The city itself will be forever lost if the leader of the Blackcaster mages is not overcome, but the Apex Tower in which she skulks is warded by macabre Nedic totems cloistered in the towers of her apprentices.

I battle my way through the wounded city streets until I arrive in a town square before the westernmost tower. Here I begin to skirmish with a seemingly unending tide of spell-fiend and atronach; eventually I am grudgingly forced to seek my own refuge within the tower itself.

I am surprised by how meagre the protection for the archaic tower is within. Perhaps the apprentice had too much confidence in her ambush, or maybe it is that she welcomes the rouse of battle herself. Either way, whether it be complacency or hubris, she appeared somewhat confounded when I swiftly put down her zombies, and equally perplexed when I sunk my blade deep into her gut.

S.K

Following the Seeker’s Sight I discover that the second aspect of the Celestial Mage has taken up refuge deep in a cave known as Hircine’s Haunt. I need not ask the locals, caravan drivers, or tavern patrons for bruit or rumour about what to expect, what better name could disciples of the Huntsman choose to call their den.

Since the fall of the constellations more and more of central Craglorn has become overrun by the Greycloak mercenaries. They openly pillage unchallenged upon the central wastelands, and their dedication to their daedric prince Hircine is thought to rival that of even the great lycanthropic packs of the Reach.

Growing up in Cyrodill, lycanthropy was very much decried as a curse. If fact when I first joined the Legions, recruits were told if they were unlucky enough to became afflicted, they should surrender themselves to their superiors before they infected their friends and comrades… or worse, fed upon them.

The first time I encountered werewolves in packs was at the gates of Aldcroft in Glenumbra. It was further north in the city of Camlorn that I was to witness first hand the brutal devastation an organized pack could cause. That city’s liberation was a bloody affair indeed. I know not to this day whether the followers of Faolchu the Reborn chose to accept Hircine’s gift, or were conscripted to it, but they seemed to willingly fully discard their human form.

At the village of Kerbol’s Hollow in Bangkorai however, it was very much thought of as a curse, yet one they attempted, in their own way, to live with. I have heard tale that Arkay’s priests are capable of performing a ritual to purge ones body of the affliction, but in truth I cannot recall ever meeting one who has recovered to tell the tale.

Whatever their viewpoint, whether gift or curse, blessing or bane, there is only one certainty for those unfortunate recipients of Hircine’s gift, the promise of an eternity roaming the savage Hunting Grounds upon their death.

S.K

The Seeker’s Sight indicates that the first missing aspect of the Celestial Mage maybe hiding in the ancient Dwemer settlement of Rkundzelft in eastern Craglorn. Once I find my way inside it’s heavy Dwarven metal doors I am a little startled by just how intact and untarnished everything seems to be. Of course like most of the Dwemer settlements I have delved, the still-functioning automatons work tirelessly to maintain the machinery, habitat, and each other, just as they have done so for hundreds of years.

But as I travel deeper into these subterranean corridors and caverns, ever under the watchful eyes of the Dwarven faces forged into every piece of architecture, I discover many books, diagrams, and charts lying almost invitingly open. In most other delves such knowledge has long since been looted, decayed, or destroyed. So it begs the question, Just what lies in the depths beyond that has kept the treasure hunters from pillaging the marvels and wonders of Rkundzelft?

It has always seemed remarkable to me that in the many hundreds of years since they passed from Nirn, we have not been able to replicate the mechanical knowledge of the Dwemer. Especially given all the brilliant minds in the Mages guild and their singular obsession, which perhaps rivals even that of Hermaeus Mora, in the collection of all knowledge in the form of books and scripts of antiquity.

I was a brash young man in my youth, who thought he knew something of everything, and I would regularly visit taverns across the Heartland to share obnoxiously loud opinions with other brash young men, especially once we had shared in a few tankards. It was one such evening that I recall hearing for the first time somebody postulate that if we could uncover the secrets of Dwemer industry, then it would surely render magic, and thus mages, obsolete. Now I have neither the knowledge, nor the pomposity of my youth to be making such a contention now, however. I have sometimes mused over the Mages Guild obsession with collecting all these books, tomes, and scrolls. Is it for the preservation of knowledge… or for its suppression?

As I discovered in the open ruins of Volenfell deep in the Alik’r desert, not all Dwemer automations were created equally. Some were designed far bigger and more deadly, with the sole purpose of defence; or attack?! Certainly Mzeklok, the giant Dwarvern Spider at the heart of Rkundzelft, explains why this settlement has remained unlooted for so, so long. But, albeit unwittingly and perhaps somewhat ironically, it also successfully protected a hidden aspect of the Celestial Mage.

S.K