Source 5: An extract from Real tales from the Savage Provinces, a weekly pulp magazine famous for its longevity, despite low readership, having only 5 subscribers at its hight in 3E165, and never selling more than 47 copies of an issue (for issue 8, which featured a story on the famous Redguard Pirate, Cyrus the restless, a popular figure in Colovia). This issue is useful for us in giving us an insight to 2nd century, third era opinions on slavery. The journal is thought to have been mostly unaltered by the editor, so it is interesting that a fairly un-glamorus account of a slave raid gone wrong was published in a magazine such as RTSP. While it may be true that the journal was simply bought from the imperial city flea market for a quick publications, the fact is that, only 50 years after its publication, it would have been seen as socially unacceptable for any civilized Nibenese citizen to find entertainment in such a story and distribution would never have been permitted.



After that climatic conclusion to the three part Stories of Glombo the One Legged Goblin, we're onto a new adventure, that of Dunel Sul, grand, but also sentimental, Dark Elf warrior.

Journal of Dunel Sul of Great House Dres

3E158 13th Heathfire

We're on the border now, preparing for the hunt, sharping blades, patching armour. I'm not feeling well, though. The priest reckons it could be Rotbone, but I’m not letting that stinking Nord tell me what to do. “Stay at camp, you feel better in morning” he dribbles, and there’s no chance of me taking one of his potions, more likely to make me worse, knowing Nord alchemical skill. And always going on about his precious man-god. I could castrate him here. Or stab him in the face with this pen… Orline don't trust him either, reckons we should be done with him when we come back from the swamp. I'd happily sell him off with the others, but the thrice-dammed imperials would sniff us out; they're already onto this raid. Only a couple of well applied bribes stopped us all from ending up in the Tear dungeons.

3E158 15th Hearthfire

Glorious Slaughter! Praise be to ALMSIVI! Twenty of the lizards dead, by my hand alone! Slashing and burning, with magick and blade, arrow and fire. Those lizards thought they could ambush us, the fools! Ambush a great warrior like I? Hah! They only got the Nord, and not one horse, or scout, or meat scrib. They came during the night, while they thought us asleep, but a great warrior is never unguarded. We jumped up, unsullied by slumber and slaughterer their force, giving chase to the the cowards, back to their little swamp village. Thinxeel, it was called. I know, for I burnt the sign myself. Thinxeel, a name I will forever remember for the glory it bought us. We killed all of them, every last one of the vile swamp-things. The baby tree lickers and the crippled old ones, with rotting scales and the stink of corpus weeping’s, even before we piled them up, and set them ablaze, along with their houses, and boats, and the temple and the school. We wiped the [censored]ers from the Elder Scrolls.

3E158 16th Hearthfire

Oh, Saint Seryn, will your mercy to me be equal to the cruelty I inflicted on the Argonians? I was only doing as told, following orders, and training, and instinct. We only needed a couple of slaves. Enough money to pay back Joe. That would of been fine. And now look where I am. My body drenched in the scales of workers. How much labour did I destroy? And the artiifacts in the temple? What act of Dagon or Sheo would have led us to burn the golden plates, and the ancient books of lore? Or to kill the prisoners? Of the captured lizards alone, there must have been 60,000 drakes worth! And now with the Thorn's imperial guards after us, lost in this swamp, with only a couple of bottles of Sujamma left. Nothing to do but drink, and wait...

Editor’s note: The rest of the journal was impossible to read, with most pages ripped out or stuck together, with what smelt like Telvanni Bug Musk. However, it can be assumed that Mr Sul was able to escape from the imperial solders that were after him and the disease riddled forests of Black Marsh, as his body and this journal was found in 3E161, three years later, in Alinor, lodged in the skull of a recently deceased Bosmer. If you know Dunel Sul be sure to contact your local imperial garrison. Or, better yet, send us a letter and a story of his recent exploits! The first reader to give us more info on Dunel the Diabolical wins a year’s subscription to Real Tales From the Savage Provinces! And of course, be sure to pick up next week’s issue to find out if Rumbel gets that stormy Redguard wench!


Extract from A Consice History of Slavery, by Agrinarno Pulfy. Published 4E23 by Black Horse Publishing house.