Peryite’s Pits

It was a very simple place, the Pits of Peryite. Not boring, but certainly not the most entertaining of the realms. Everything was correct. I could find no flaw in any of the Prince’s organizations. Everything looked as though it belonged where it was, and it was so aesthetically appealing, that I almost began to distrust it.

Some of you may be wondering why they are called “Peryite’s Pits”. This is because, quite literally, the place is a field of pits. Every pit contains its own category and subcategories. There is a pit for all the other realms of the Daedra, a pit in which the souls of his followers reside, a pit for each disease he has released or ever will release, and within that pit, all of the numerous things that can cause each specific disease. Then, at the center of the symmetric field, was the largest pit of all. Peryite’s Pit. His Palace of Pestilence, his Abode of Order, his Domain of the Dragon. And it was here that I learned the most about Peryite himself.

He spoke with me, and, unlike many other Daedra, was very polite, calm, and submissive to my questions. He seemed borderline eager to answer me each and every time, which pleased me to no end. He told me about his part in the Ehlnofex Wars, as well. That was a story worth telling again.

I’ve been around for a long time, mortal. But you knew that. Do you know why I’ve been around so long? Of course not. Because you mortals take all of my work for granted. That isn’t to say that I don’t appreciate you all for having given me a reason to exist, but a little credit for stabilizing everything you know and love would be nice, just every once in a while. That’s why I have my followers’ and priests’ souls venerated on their pit. But, as I was saying, I, like many other Daedra, are direct descendants of the God-King, Auri-El. I had nothing to do with the fighting between the King and the Rebel, but at some level, I feel like I started it. It was my hunger for clarification that drove me to, at some point, demand the et’Ada to pick a side. They ended up forming armies, which I also organized. I had no allegiance to Auri-El or Lorkhan, but they both trusted me. In fact, I also helped Magnus with the original idea for creation. I helped Y’ffre when the Bosmer couldn’t decide what shape to take. I helped the prophet Veloth to decide which Daedra were good, and which were bad. I yet today help the Imperials, Stormcloaks, Dominion, and all your other petty squabble-groups to shape themselves effectively. Without me, everything would fall into disarray.

You also might be wondering why I look like a dragon. I am from Auri-El, the original Time God. You mortals have attributed the image of the dragon to Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time, and thus forced that image upon me, as well. For how can time flow, or be measured, or be kept in tact without some sort of orderly maintenance?

You ask why I am the Prince of Pestilence? It is because not all things need to carry on beyond their usefulness. Plagues are released to cleanse the unnecessary from the existence of the necessary. You are a scholar, yes? Then you should know by now that nothing happens by chance. Everything from the eradication of the Kothringi to the slow, painless fading of a wife in the smallest village of the smallest county are equal in impact when perceived in retrospect. It is within my authority to dictate whether people are necessary or not.

Am I the weakest of the Princes? No. There are many weaker than me. Am I the strongest? No. There are more that are stronger than me than there are those who are less. I am powerful because of my urge to maintain balance and order, but I am not the most ambitious in that effort. Jyggalag is by far the most driven to do what should be done to make order of things, and Mehrunes Dagon is the most ambitious toward doing what he thinks he needs to do. But Dagon, he does not think. He acts, and he is undone by unforeseen events. And Jyggalag, he is overly ambitious. He wants nothing to be out of place. Nothing can exist without its opposite, and Jyggalag would do anything to ensure that madness and chaos were forever so contained that order could never even be found.

I am glad that you came seeking me, scholar. It has been pleasing to me that you listened to my words attentively and eagerly. I would give you something of mine, but many of my gifts are undesirable to you and your kind. If you are willing to take what you have learned as my gift, you are welcome, but merely ask what you desire and I will give it to you.

I left the Pits after that and wrote it down. I then vowed to travel to every plane of the Daedric Princes that I could, from Coldharbour to the Deadlands to the Evergloam to the Shivering Isles. This is my first story, but soon there shall be more.

—By Acarelos Detelories