"... Well, let me think... They are kinda everywhere... but you probably want to know where are a bunch of them together in one place, aye? One of their temples... well, I know one! Meridia, the winged rainbow lady, has a huge, a real huge temple, just along the big Imperial road to Solitude. You can´t miss it looking westwards while northwards. Right on mount Kilkreath. Has not always been. Let me think of another one... oh my... I could tell you of all the statues of Dagon. But they all show him in losing pose, because Dagon never wins. With a Nord hero or little girl on top. Well, sorry I couldn´t help you much."
"...Giving our offspring repetitive, meaningless names like the humans do save for the Redguards? Of course all our names are unique. They are singular serial numbers. Why did you think so many names start with 'AH'? Because we haven´t yet reached 'BTH'. Even our queen is no exception to this rule. All other names have a deeper meaning, numeric mystery. Digits chosen from twenty six numbers."
"... And the man handed several round metal chips to Farijama. This one had never seen before, but did not complain, because gold and silver are rare and shine in the sunlight. But Farijama would have been a lot happier about some hides or a little time spent chopping and cutting wood in Farijama's workshop. Now Farijama had a bow less and metal more. So Farijama went to Dro'Machap the smith. Now Farijama has these beautiful ear rings. But Farijama has only two ears. So Farijama does not accept your coins, human."
"... They say there is something under this city. Something darker than light, something stronger than magic. They say that it drives us insane! I should have never moved to this Elven City... I should have stayed in my spawning pool... in the Hist there are all my brothers and sisters! But I wanted to see this living god... Usually I don´t care much for rumors. They are not true. But... It troubles me that I can´t remember who told me about this..."
"... four hundred twenty seven thousand crates? No problem, Gorsh Gro-Crate
will deliver – I´m in negotiation with a big customer, all ye people! Become a customer yourself! A customer of Grosh Gro-Crate, barrels and crates! Crates and barrels! From Gorsh Gro-Crate! Since CE 544 any barrel you see in any harbour – When do you want the barrels? - I guarantee you, it's from Gorsh Gro-Crate! - Tomorrow? I'll bring them today! - Gorsh Gro-Crate has crates of wood, weathered wood, metal, Dwemer metal, solidified sunlight... We even have round crates! - IN MALACATH'S NAME, TAKE COVER! Behind crates from Gorsh Gro-Crate."
"... Why not? What makes, what makes us so different? Only because, Only because it are the mortals of Tamriel summoning the Daedra and their Princes as it pleases us? What is, what is it that prevents them
from summoning us
? What is, what is the difference between an Orc and an Ogrim, between a Redguard and a Golden Saint? What if, what if your premises are all wrong? This is nothing but another plane of Oblivion! They just haven´t tried yet... What if, what if our most noble High King Emeric had his own summoning day, like Meruhnes and Hermaeus? What if, what if a Caitiff decides to ever summon our king? Into Oblivion? Or me? Or you? What then, I ask you, what then..."
"...I´ve found another one. A dead body in the middle of my turnip field! Terribly crushed, must have been fallen from a great height... was a damn Wood Elf this time. Last week it was a Dark Elf. And the week before it was a Nord. What´s the meaning of this? Racketeering threats of the Nostra Famiglia? I haven´t yet received a letter... Aunt Constance told me she saw a woman suddenly popping up out of blue skies! Thought she went nuts... nothing unusual, with all those undead in the woods and those maniacs in the front garden... now I think she told the truth. What in all the Oblivions makes it rain people? Must be some evil joke of the Mad God, that´s for sure. If only one of those people would land in a river, a lake or maybe the sea, one could ask them what is going on..."
"...Yes, there are. Horns, fuzzy ears, toe-walkers, hooffingers... Black eyes? No, that's just all the meat, mate. Anyway, there are places-where-one-does-not-go. Did you think Wild Hunt was only in times of war or distress? The Wild Hunt is always, but we don´t always participate..."
"... miss your home, outlander? I miss the wind in my hair riding my wasp, hunting down Argonians in the fetid plane. But Mother Morrowind forbid us from them. Which is unquestionable, yet it is insane! Slavery is the reason space exists. We just lost two thirds of our working hands! Who will now harvest the saltrice? The tea? This cripples our agricultural industry! But don´t worry, outlander. I and my clan will ride south, way around the Knahaten land. In Elsweyr the last of the Khajiit will prevent the downfall of Dres."
"... Mak'tor Prending, at your service. And I can tell you, you need my service. I came to notice you are buying camels and desert raiments? And a waterskin for each of you? Going for an expedition, are you? I can tell you, you won´t survive one single night without my help. Grasslanders like you can´t stand the heat like we Redguards can, and after one hour all waterskins will be empty. You need huge amphoras, barrels, if you want to live! And this thin cloth can only help during the day. After nightfall you will freeze to death, trust my words! You need something warm aswell, warm bedrolls, blankets of camel shag or sheep wool! And wood to make a fire! Praised be Tall Papa you´ve met me before leaving! Now, to my payment..."