A Void-Sailor's Primer: What's It Like?

A lot of times now, when we put into port, I just stay on the ship. Sure the lads like to go ashore, visit the watering holes, maybe find some agreeable companionship. Not saying I haven’t done the same, and I’m no Two-Moon’s monk, that’s for ruddy certain. I just can’t stand hearin’ the Same Question over and over again:

“You’re a void sailor? WHAT’S IT LIKE?”

Dibella’s lips, I’m weary of hearing it. Maybe this will shut you damned plane(t)-walkers up: it’s cold, so ruddy cold you’d sell your soul to Bal just to feel warm before he takes you. So cold you’d rather set the ship alight and burn your way to the ‘sleeve than stand it another minute.

Only here’s the trick: it’s not. The Void is no colder than a plane(t) – you only THINK it is.

My first captain, real bugger of a Nord, told me it was all about “mortal epistemology.” Big words to mean that the Void responds to what we believe, or maybe it's we do – I’m not some ruddy metaphysician. It’s why you need breathing scarves – the truth is you breathe fine no matter how far you are from a plane(t), but we’ve created this myth that you can’t. Ain’t nothing going to change what we think – and so the scarves are enchanted with a breathing spell they don’t even need; watch a lubber that’s still got Nirn on his boots try and breathe and you’ll see ‘em drown in air.

That’s the first lesson about bein’ a void-sailor: you gotta change how you think about the Void. It’s the only way you won’t die in five minutes.

Now sod off and pass me that matze.