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The Masque of Sparrow Valley (The Elder Scrolls)

This is a fan-made lorebook written within the Elder Scrolls universe that I entered into a lorebook writing contest last summer. I hope you like it :)

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It was a ball without equal. Coated in gold and moonstone, diamonds encrusting the edges of every glass and every platter. Lords and ladies gathered there in secret, hidden by the shroud of costumed extravagance, brought together under a singular goal to learn as much about the other guests as possible. A deal of lies and buried truths, trading blows beneath upturned lips and flowery words. Such an event was made possible only by the whims of the Masque.

The Masque of Sparrow Valley proved an enigma; some spoke of a battered, war-weary soldier in blue; others met a snide, posturing butler in red. Different people, different places, but the same mask. Molded from metal of an unknown source and carved with the face of a proper gentleman, completed by a swirled mustache, down-turned nose, and heavy-set eyes. Yet the most striking feature would have to be the horns. Unnatural, Vile, and somehow fitting. The devil's in the details.

The Masque hosted at least four events over the course of a year; by winter's end, the invitations stopped. Caravans followed their normal routes through the valley, and whispers began to spread about the...emptiness felt throughout the region. That an eerie quiet had fallen heavy over buildings that once teemed with life, now showing decay beyond repair. The world continued on as it once had, eventually losing all reason to care about the valley and it's elaborate parties, but one question remained for those with the thought to ask: where went the Masque of Sparrow Valley?

Why, it went where all Daedric relics eventually go: home. A deal goes both ways, and so the Masque of Sparrow Valley once again became the Masque of Clavicus Vile.

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