Bump In The Night: A Page Found Between the Pages
Found, tattered and burnt in the left corner, placed between the pages of the Bestiary
THE CHAMPION'S HERALD
Now, we don't often talk of academics and their books about books about books about nothing in very particular - but we've got a real treat for you - an exclusive interview with the editor of Bump In The Night: A Bestiary. Now, before you go toting around the word author - that's what makes this interview so special! The author's dead! So, quit your yapping and read about the mysterious tale of a book's editor!
Reporter (R) : Now, that you've settled in - oh, I hope the roast is good... okay? Right, tell us about yourself.
Editor (E) : Well, I'm the editor of Bump In The Night: A Bestiary, a book that some people apparently think is pretty great.
R : Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves here... editor? Sorry, what do I address you by?
E: Editor, yes. Editor is fine.
Now let us describe the situation our reporter in the field faced. This secretive Editor had contacted us for an exclusive interview only a month after his hit book got released and copies sent to the major academic institutions of Tamriel. It was low on our radar, so we regrettably sent an amateur reporter in. After getting back, we requested another interview, but were never contacted again... odd, you say? You have no idea!
R: Well, erhm, Editor. Could you tell us about your book?
E: It's a story of tragedy.
R: Uh, sir, I read the book. It's, well, a bestiary. Could you explain what makes that a tragedy?
E: You haven't read the book. No one does, at least fully. It's not possible.
R: Editor, sir, of course I have fully read the entire text.
E: Even the bit about a crossdressing Argonian prostitution ring?
R: Of course, the most riveting story!
E: Then you have poor taste in stories.
R: Excuse me?
E: That story doesn't exist. Yet.
Our reporter in the field quickly checked his book and found the entry in his introduction, specifically about the prostitution ring. He, of course, confessed to not having read the bestiary to us, when he returned.
R: Sir, it says right here about the prostitution ring.
E: I added that part in, hoping to spark some interest in intrepid souls.
R: So, you modified the story of this... uhm, Sera Rothras?
E: Nothing that wouldn't have happened already. Divines, all of you are so damnably daft.
R: Sir, you asked for this interview.
E: Under the impression I would be properly interviewed. A veteran reporter of the magickal arts would have questioned my phrasing by now. I can't stress the hints I'm dropping. The progress is too slow. The seed has met infertile soil in this land.
Our reporter grew especially pale when he recounted this portion of the story to our editor, and asked for water! Water! Well, no more interruptions!
R: Yes, well - er. Let's talk about you, what got you started in editing?
E: What?
R: What got you started?
E: Well, it seems obvious, I found the blood soaked journal of a demented, or all-powerful - I have yet to determine, Elf that never ended.
R: What?
E: Are you telling me no one has discovered that little tidbit yet? I sent magickal copies over to all the major institutions.
R: Sir, what are you talking about? Never ending?
E: I tested the concept myself. Are you saying no one even bothered to read it that far?
R: Sir, what are you talking about?
E: The damn thing never ends!
R: What?
E: Haven't you figured it out?! It never ends! Ever! I edited two thousand pages of a book that only could have held two hundred!
Our reporter proceeded to flip to the end of the book, which had a nice outro written by the supposed Dark Elf, Rothras.
R: It obviously ends, sir.
E: Not when you flip through it! God, might as well use you for skeever bait, you're not useful for anything else! You have to read the damned thing! Actually read it!
R: Gods, you're mad.
Our reporter got up and left the near empty tavern in a dusty quarter of Chorrol. The Editor, clothed in billowing dark robes, ran out and grabbed our reporter's arm. Our reporter refuses to tell us what the figure inside the robes looked like, beyond the vague "You don't want to know."
E: Creatia. For gods sake, I'm done for - but someone in this damn land's got to know how to solve this. Speak of it. Creatia.
Our reporter, after recovering from the shock, ripped his arm from the Editor and rushed to his horse to report back to us at the Imperial City. Yes, he got the proper beating, voracious reader! Such a mysterious man! And, surely, you may have heard of, by the time you read of this, of the mysterious, and infinite, book: Bump In The Night: A Bestiary.
No one has seen the Editor or, as you know about our famous skill at hunting the news our dear reader, at least not yet.
[0] Fools.