The Lady of Blood - A Folktale of the Bosmeri Tribes

Transcriber’s Note: This personal letter of correspondence, drafted by one Indara Llethas of the Arcaneum University in Cyrodiil, is as of today the last remaining piece of writing known to reference the mysterious figure known as the “Lady of Blood”. As noted by Llethas, the Lady is a figure of Valenwood folklore, though very few of the “tribes” she would have been familiar with in the early-mid Second Era exist to the present day. Instead, the Imga have largely taken on the oral tradition surrounding this figure, though it’s worth noting that similar accounts do exist from sources beyond Valenwood, stretching as far as the back alleys and outlaw dens of Ebonheart.

It is also worth noting, in this researcher’s opinion, that the letter in question was never actually sent - rather, it was stored alongside Llethas’ other personal items after her sudden and untimely death, which coincided with that of another faculty member, a respected Altmer named Tilvanion, who may or may not be the merish colleague mentioned in the text. The journal she repeatedly references was not among her effects, and was apparently never found at all; no records exist for the cause of death, if indeed there even was one.

The scholarly consensus on the existence of this so-called Lady of Blood, and her true nature, remains heavily debated among modern academia.

-Rezzas Zefiram, 13th Record-Keeper of the College of Whispers, 13th of Evening Star 4E 116

Sethyri,

Hearing from you after all these years was… unexpected, to say the least, but I was glad of it. I wasn’t quite as glad to discover exactly why you’d written me again; I should have known that my role at the university would be too tempting a connection for someone in your line of work to pass up, regardless of our history.

Look, Seth, I’m just going to cut to it: What you’re asking for isn’t pleasant, and I honestly think it might be dangerous. I can already see you rolling your eyes, but I mean it. You and your so-called “Daedra Chasers” may get off on stories of shadow killers and secret cults, and I know that you think this one is going to have some basis in Mephala - which, I’ll admit, is one of the theories out there - but I believe there’s more to it than that. There is a reason why you had to ask me instead of a drunken Wood Elf in a tavern somewhere. No one knows this story, and those who do don’t talk about it, and I think… maybe, that’s because She likes it that way.

But if it gets you off my back so I can return to my own life, I’ll tell you what I can from what I was able to dig up. Once this letter reaches you, it’s your problem; don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The first thing you need to know about the Lady of Blood - who is also variably known as the Red Lady, Bloodraven, Y’ffre’s Calling, and a plethora of other pseudonyms that vary from tribe to tribe - is that there’s never been two stories that coincide about exactly who or what she is. The very first one I dug up seemed to assume she was some kind of malevolent forest spirit, intent on tormenting the author’s tribe before killing them all in their sleep; another painted her as a mortal, a former Green Lady who went on a mad killing spree after her Silvenar’s untimely death. I found one that swore she literally is Mephala, or an agent of hers, and another that thought she was just a rogue assassin for the Dark Brotherhood. The most recent theory - from another esteemed faculty at the university, no less - actually presented evidence that seemed to point to one of two possibilities: she’s either A.) a very, very old vampire, or B.) a title, passed down through generations, perhaps from mother to daughter, in a sort of family dynasty. Regardless, every story does agree on this: she’s always a Bosmer woman, youthful, with fiery red hair and lifeless, dark eyes… and she never, ever lets someone live once she’s decided that they will die.

How anyone survived to write about her at all is, of course, a criticism I thought of, as I’m sure you have by now as well. So after a sleepless night of research, I sought out the instructor who’d written the journal in question (I’ll attach it to this letter so you can look over his work for yourself - hopefully he’ll convince you this is serious, if I can’t) and tried to make some sense of the stories… which, at this point, is still all I thought they were.

Now, I’m not going to give his name out in this, for reasons that have nothing to do with journalistic integrity, but I’ll tell you that I have worked with this mer for nearly sixteen years, and not once in that time have I ever taken him for a fool. Far from it, he’s been the epitome of skepticism and rational thinking since the day we met; I’d say Julianos smiles on him, but the stubborn old arse refuses to even acknowledge that the Divines exist without sufficient proof! The point is, he isn’t one to take myths and hearsay as fact simply because it got under his skin. But when I spoke to him about this Lady of Blood, when that name crossed my lips, the look on his face was one of a sort of fear I hope I never have to see again for the rest of my mortal life.

The story he relayed to me makes more sense in the context of his journal, but suffice to say, he hadn’t just studied the legends of the tribal Bosmer or the Imga - he’d encountered the Red Lady for himself, decades ago, on an expedition to the south of the province. Apparently he managed to separate himself from the rest of his group, and by the time he heard the crunching of leaves behind him, it was too late… he felt no cold steel on his throat, no arrowhead in his back, just a cold, sickly sweet sensation of calm spread through his muscles. His mind was panicking, he told me, but his body refused to listen to its instructions, and by the time he could move again, he’d seen her face inches from his own, shrouded in the darkness of the underbrush above them, for the briefest of moments before it disappeared like mist. He told me that she spoke four words to him, in a voice like silken glass, that chilled his blood just to repeat to me all those years later:

“Tell them their doom.”

And he obeyed, because he knew what the price would be if he didn’t.

It’s only been a few hours since I talked to him, but I don’t think my pulse has gone down at all since then; if I’m being honest, the only reason I’ve written this out at all is so that I can be rid of this responsibility. Like I said, what you do with the information in that journal is your problem now, Seth - don’t write me back about it, or ask for clarification, or try to come to the university and see me. Whatever this has brought on, I don’t want anything more to do with this.

But… I will make one last request of you, Seth: please don’t get yourself killed over this. This thing, this Lady of Blood, is out there, whether you believe me or not, and… and I have no idea whether she wants you to know about her or not.

Your former friend,

Indara