A Report on the Importance of Cleanliness

Written for the children of the Nibenay and beyond by Desria Valarius, 3E 42.

Praise Empress Kintyra; may the Eight keep her safe and prosperous in all her endeavours!

To the civillized man, woman and child, having a clean body and not having a bad aroma coming from your pits would be deemed essential, would it not? You would think so wouldn't you; but in my travels I have found this to be less than true.

Indeed, if one would travel north from Cyrodiil to the barbarians of Skyrim, one would think the Nords have never even heard of bathing. In fact, I was witness to a competition in the most loyal city in Skyrim to the Empire, Solitude, where the man or woman who had the most vile stench coming from their underarms would be declared the winner. It would appear that Nibenese influence has yet to reach this far north, and they identify more with a Colovian idealogy to cleanliness.

Even less can be said of the Orc tribes of the Wrothgar and Dragontail Mountains. Although they seem to have heard of Niben mud baths, their apparent lack of intelligence had led them to believe that they must bathe each other with the damp soil of the ground beneath them. I can assure you reader, that when I saw this in action, I shook my head in disappointment and a single teardrop shed another teardrop that rolled down my cheek in sadness.

But the worst of all the races of Tamriel when it comes to cleanliness are the elves of the Summerset Isles. I can excuse the Khajiit of the Anequinian Desert and the Tenmar Forest for not bathing because they are cats, but no one; not even the ash-bathing Dark Elves of Morrowind; can excuse the High Elves.

One would think such a proud race would rival even the Niben's when it comes to cleanliness, but no. Where we Nibens take advantage of the beautiful waters inside the Nibenay, the High Elves shun the clear, blue water surrounding their isles to instead clean themselves with the blood of the recently departed. Disgusting, I hear you cry, I hear you retching in your throat, I can see you wanting to close the pages of this book; and in all honesty I would not blame you. The High Elves value themselves so much that they would not see their brethern's blood clot and wasted. Unfortunately in my travels, I have witnessed the blood-draining of a soul who had gone to live with Arkay, and it is not an experience I would like to revist again, and I will spare you the gruesome details.

So what do we take from knowing these things about the savages of Tamriel? Well after scorning them for their barbarity, we thank the Eight that they blessed us with proper intelligence and continue to uphold the hard work of Lady Mara.

Remember, keep yourself clean and don't smell like a stinky Nord.