As the dark deviant clouds gather above the Alik’r Desert, the stiff, dry winds whip up a biting sandstorm all about the Myrkwasa Dolmen.  A dread horn bellows in the outer darkness and the foul grapnels of Coldharbour fall from the turmoil in the sky.  Once more unto the maelstrom.

Yet unlike so many other regions that wane under the daily daedric onslaught, this is the Alik’r, home to the  Redguard, the heirs of the indomitable Ra Gada.  No anchor that falls upon the Alik’r goes unchallenged.

To the people of the desert, the anchors are no longer considered a threat and crisis; they are almost welcomed as opportunity. An opportunity to train and sharpen skills, to earn coin and repute from the Fighter’s Guild, and to socialize.

The desert people have turned hunting Molag Bal’s anchors into a sport, and others now travel from all across Nirn just to take part.

S.K

Deep in the Alik’r there can be found many a solitary old man who speaks in riddles under the desert sun. If you attempt to follow their ramblings, you may just find yourself chasing goats and running circles in the sands.

Are these wise-men or are they simply mad?   Is wisdom that far from madness anyhow?  In truth, I look about any town or city in Tamriel and I see absurdity all about me. Perhaps it is that the only wise response to circumstance is madness.

S.K

An Orc sits alone in a prison cell without visible wall, lock, or door.  Gurlak is bound in a mystical cage made by vengeful wizards for the crime of falling in love with an Ayleid maid.  He says he’s been imprisoned here for centuries, but by my unscholarly calculations it may now be well over two and a half millennia.  One wonders at what point he give up on counting the years.

He claims that many have tried to free him, but all have failed; and yet the puzzle to my mind is simple to any who can appreciate the passing of time.  And if any had the time to solve the puzzle it was Gurlak; yet having been forced to watch his love grow old and die before his eyes, never being able to hear, smell, or touch her, it is little wonder if he gave up trying.

And when finally set free from his prison, unfettered from the spell that prolonged his tormented life, he says he wants to stay exactly where he is, for it is all he now knows.

Yet the spirit of his former lover, Nuralanya, appears from the mists to take him “beyond this mortal realm”.

That we are all so lucky as Gurlak, for it seems to me that centuries of incarceration and torment are not so high a price to pay to not die alone.

S.K

In the gloomy chambers beneath the Salas En ruins in the Alik’r desert, Lady Clarisse Laurent and I are attempting to close the portal to Valenwood and thus prevent the Aldmeri from launching an invasion directly into the heart of Hammerfell.  But the Elves, both living and undead, are unwilling to give up their portal without a fight.

S.K

The ruins at Salas En on the Hammerfell coast are believed to have been an Ayleid stronghold built during the Merethic Era.  The Breton archaeologist Lady Clarisse Laurent, leads an expedition to learn more about the original inhabitants of which little is now known.  

Since the Ayleids were overthrown, Corelanya Elves and Yath Yokuda have both attempted to build on the site, but neither of their settlements managed to endure the attrition of the desert winds as well as the original Ayleid structures.

An active portal was discovered deep in the ruins which upon investigation was found to lead to the jungles of Grahtwood.  Unfortunately, the investigator returned from the Valenwood with the Dominion army hot on his tail.

Now the Aldmeri seem to be preparing for a full-scale invasion on the Alik’r.  We must quickly find a way to close the portal before the Elves retake the ruins they last held some 2600 years ago.

S.K