| Book Information | |||
|---|---|---|---|
| Source: | Imperial Library | ||
| Writer(s): | Douglas Goodall | ||
| Publication Date: | 1 April 2025 | ||
This text was written by Douglas Goodall as part of the April Fools 2025 Lusty Argonian Maid Lorejam and published by the Imperial Library.
When people discuss the great mysteries of our world, they often discuss the origin of the Hist, the nature of kalpic cycles, or so-called “Dragon Breaks.” These all have simple, pedestrian explanations, as elucidated by my fellows here at the University of Gwylim over the years.
The True Mysteries are why Gor Felim’s play are still performed (and who is behind it!), and the enduring popularity of The Lusty Argonian Maid. And yet, there is still one other mystery, perhaps greater still for the question has never been asked—who was the Argonian Maid?
The first—and only, I assure you!—time I read the play, I was struck by the innocence and simplicity of that poor maid. What a terrible situation she was forced into, into the hands of such a wicked and corrupt man! If only I could reach back in time and rescue her, or at least offer consolation, a shoulder to cry on, to be a firm shelter from the storm that must be in her heart, a mouth to—but I digress.
Perhaps in this New Era of Scholarship, with the turbulent early years of any Era now behind us, we can look forward to a thousand years of peace, prosperity, and mer and man working together to recover lost knowledge. Now, perhaps, we can finally answer such questions.
One such opportunity arose here at the University of Gwylim, where I am employed, when a refugee from Morrowind arrived, one Eraldil, a venerable Bosmer and scholar of some note, though now in poor health. At the first opportunity I asked her about disgusting author and his infamous play, and I was shocked to learn that she was one of his neighbors and even attended “private functions” at the Manor of ignominious author. She was far more gracious towards the subject than I expected, claiming that the notorious author was “an odd crab,” but “full of life” and “amusing in his way.” I hesitated to ask if she was, somehow, involved with the author, and she laughed at the suggestion so long that she fell into a fit of coughing. When she recovered, she claimed she only attended the private functions because one Yngling Half-Troll, presumably a Nord from the name, was often there.
She suggested that the original Argonian Maid might have been one Raises-Her-Crest, a serving girl in the Manor. After inquiring what happened to her, Eraldil said she was only employed at the Manor for a few days, but she must have left a lasting impression on the terrible author. Listening between her words, it was clear that Raises-Her-Crest was a fine, upstanding Argonian, who could not tolerate the no-doubt degrading and oppressive conditions imposed upon her by the author.
Then she said something truly shocking: the granddaughter of Raises-Her-Crest was employed here in Cyrodiil! At the first opportunity, I hastened to meet her.
After meeting the granddaughter, one Rides-Three-Snakes, she readily admitted that her grandmother was Raises-Her-Crest, and that she was briefly employed at the Manor of the abominable author. Alas, the two witnesses accounts of life at the Manor in question do not entirely agree, so a clear picture of the events cannot be discerned. Rides-Three-Snakes insists that her grandmother was never involved with…the author, but that she conned him out of enough gold to make a new life in Cyrodiil, buying the rightly-dilapidated Jellyfish Theater and restoring it! Rides-Three-Snakes was now the very proprietor of that very theater!
I was beside myself. The Jellyfish theater was one I knew well—only by reputation, I assure you!—for it was there Gor Felim’s play are still performed to this day! I confronted Rides-Three-Snakes about this, and she justified herself by saying the people liked them. What do the tastes of the common man have to do with theater, I ask you?
Although off to a rough start, I inquired further about her grandmother, but, perhaps out of familial shame, she refused to provide evidence for what must have been the true events at the Manor.
With a wicked gleam in her eye, she gave me two of her works-in-progress, which would soon be performed at the Jellyfish, asking for my opinions of The Prolonged Nurturing of the Imperial Jewels and The Three-Legged Guar in the Realms of Revelry. My opinion, after reading them thoroughly, was that they should be burned, an act I later performed in one of the fireplaces here at the University of Gwylim where I am employed.
Perhaps someone who reads this can interrogate Rides-Three-Snakes, perhaps with the benefit of magical aid, to get the true story. Perhaps other scholars who read this can find more survivors or children of survivors from that time and determine whether Raises-Her-Crest was the inspiration for the distasteful play and what truly happened between her and the wretched author.
[Scribbled at the end of the parchment is a note: The only place this name appears in the University of Gwylim’s records, is in the 4E 98 Bursar’s Ledger, which was never discarded after the 4E 103 audit, where Tristan Virane was paid 1940 for “materials and repairs to the facade of the Halls of Antiquity,” 355 septims for “extensive defeathering,” 150 for “compesation(sic), feather-related injuries,” 790 septims for “chipping ice from the third-floor summoning room,” 210 septims for “oiling the orrery,” and 750 septims for “compensation, Masser-related injuries.”]