Tuvh'l'alik'r!
Surkba'lia tuabz, siyoh'lia tuabz, guad'ba'lia tuabz!
Amn unt'gada amyet'tubzah, amn unt'gada togo tubzah!
Imyenduwei!
Imyenduwei!
Satakal-feyuzha tubzah!
Ruptga-weyuzha tubzah!
Sep-yeyuzha tubzah!
Sep-yeyuzha tubzah!
Tobr'a-ueyuzha tubzah!
Imyenduwei!
Imyenduwei!
Imyenduwa-koyda'ga!
[A rough translation would go as such:]
We are the Alik'r!
The Red men, the Black men, the Unwanted men!
No [city/town/village?] wanted us, no [city/town/village] took us!
Wandering!
Wandering!
Satakal [favors] us!
Tall Papa frees us!
Sep guides us!
Sep guides us!
The Useless Ones fear us!
Wandering!
Wandering!
Forever Wandering!
[Some conclusions to be drawn from this primitive poetry? That not all Redguard desire war; or at least, amongst one another? That the act of national fratricide is considered a portent of doom perhaps, in reference to the extensive worship of the Old Yokudan diety Satakal, The Worldskin; he who destroys the world a thousand times to make it better? Or is it a mark of pride, of the freedom the A'likr have in the wastes of their sand dune-ed homeland? Few, if any primitive tribes enjoy the near total autonomous freedom they do, save for Argonian tribesmen hidden away in the noxious interior of their Marsh; the Desert Cats in Elsewyr, or the fading Reachmen of the Breton West Reach. Only perhaps due the isolated mountain and border tribes of Skyrim, the Framea-ghaz, so isolated and backwards that they are almost of pure, unadvlterated Atmoran stock! These cast-away Yokudans see themselves as being no different than their ancestors from across the Eltheric.
These are only my theories. They have no substance as of yet. I hope to one day confirm these stories in my still-unplanned scholarly expedition into the Sands of Alik'r. So, may you take your own conclusions about the mindset of these exotic and savage people.
Master of Cultural Lore,
Indexer of Peoples,
and Cartographer Minor
of the Imperial Library;
Procurator Hessimus Ulentio,
Last Seed 27, 3E 298
____________
Editor's Note:
Three years after the writing of this, Procurator Ulentio began his journey into the Alik'r. Three days later, his corpse was found dumped by an Imperial Legion way-station ten miles from the ragged terminus of the Desert. His head had been almost surgically cut open exposing cranial tissue, his larnyx forcibly removed, his kidneys had each been skewered by a hot iron. His genitals were absent, and all of his fingers and toes were missing. Legionaries noted this to be the standard Alik'r method of punishing intruders into their watering grounds. They also determined that he had been very much so alive while all this took place. Though, without a voice-box, there would have been very little screaming...