Valyne Hlan is a Dark Elf employee of the Velothril Sisters consortium, and one of the many characters that can be hired as a reliable source of crafting materials as part of the Enchanting skill line. She is never seen in person, preferring to honor her obligation via mail. The last letter of her correspondence implies that the Ayleid ruin of Hecul has driven her insane, and she too will perish repeating the phrase "abavarlor" as Prior Velan and Eron Salt did.
CorrespondenceEdit
| Valyne Hlan Correspondence | ||
|---|---|---|
| Number | Author | Message |
| 250 | Valyne Hlan | This is Valyne Hlan with Velothril Sisters. Formerly with Velothril Sisters. The enclosed delivery was one of theirs. I will explain shortly, but for now I must escape the city. |
| 251 | Valyne Hlan | I'm safe. May the Three shelter me from the retribution of Velothril Sisters. Their purses are deep and their tolerance for disloyalty is minimal. It is madness for me to cross them. Yet I cannot allow them to feed another colleague to that accursed Ayleid ruin! |
| 252 | Valyne Hlan | Before proceeding, I must be clear where we stand. Though I departed from Velothril Sisters with much haste, and I did so with a large amount of enchanting material, it was all earmarked for you, an existing client. As long as your planned deliveries continue, I am doing nothing illegal. (Which is what I'll tell the Guard, should they arrest me.) |
| 253 | Valyne Hlan | I must keep off the roads. Did you know Velothril Sisters pays dozens of innkeepers a fee to report on the movements of their employees? It's true, I've seen the reports. Why does a middling procurement business need to spy on its own people? How can they afford to do so? |
| 254 | Valyne Hlan | I arrived at a village with little trust for outsiders. They've grown used to my visits through the years. I wouldn't say they trust me, but they will keep me hidden for a handful of gold. Also, they make a delicious bean curd. I can't expose the darkness beneath the surface of Velothril Sisters on an empty stomach. |
| 255 | Valyne Hlan | I owe you an explanation, along with your latest shipment. I worked as a Velothril Sisters procurer for eight years. Though they deliver enchanting material for those such as yourself, the contracts fund their true interests: acquiring dangerous relics from the far corners of Tamriel. For what purpose? I don't know. But it can't be a good one. |
| 256 | Valyne Hlan | Velothril Sisters have no real enemies, but in their hunt for forbidden relics they certainly haven't made friends. Their fixation on Hecul, the Outcast (or Missing) Ruin is baffling. My best hope is to find someone who holds Velothril Sisters in low esteem and work to expose them. And pray to the Three, of course. That goes without saying. |
| 257 | Valyne Hlan | An armed woman arrived in the village, asking about me. The gold she offered for information was less than what I paid the villagers for silence, so for now I'm safe. It must be one of the bounty hunters Velothril Sisters keeps on retainer. At least it isn't Eron Salt. I hear that woman is relentless. |
| 258 | Valyne Hlan | The bounty hunter was, in fact, Eron Salt. She'll soon return with enough gold to bribe the villagers. If I'm to remain a free woman, I must flee. Fear not, the truth is on my side! |
| 259 | Valyne Hlan | The truth may be on my side, but the weather is certanly [sic] not. The rains should throw Eron Salt off my trail. I hope. |
| 260 | Valyne Hlan | I stumbled across a Nereid today, amidst the rain. I don't know which of us was more surprised. I was still frozen in place as she curled her lips back. She aimed to tear my throat out, I'm sure of it. But then she pointed at me, shrieked in fear, and fled for her watery life. I am not an imposing person. Why would she do such a thing? |
| 261 | Valyne Hlan | Fearful nereids aside, I stumbled across an abandoned hut not far from the road. I can hide from bounty hunters, stay out of the rain, and consider how best to expose Velothril Sisters. After I wring the entire Abecean Sea from my clothes. |
| 262 | Valyne Hlan | It is settled. I'll seek out the mage Davamin, the taffy-appreciating mage who is no friend to Eron Salt. Sixul's private reports about his travels suggested Davamin knew more about the Outcast Ruin than he let on. |
| 263 | Valyne Hlan | Did you know Velothril Sisters isn't actually a trio of Dark Elf siblings? It was originally a Breton outfit hoping to gain access to relics in Dark Elf lands. The 'three sisters' were a shallow play on our culture's veneration of the Three. All of it calculated, all a false front. |
| 264 | Valyne Hlan | Davamin is dead! A few weeks ago he was found in his home, his throat sliced open, and his vocal cords done up like a bow on a package. It must have been Eron Salt. Isn't that fate what she wished of him? |
| 265 | Valyne Hlan | Please don't think less of me, but I broke into Davamin's laboratory. I recovered his journal, but have no time to read it. His fellow villagers may have spotted me as I slipped from the lab. I write this from their own stables, allowing me to slip your material into the delivery pouch. I believe I have thrown off their trail. |
| 266 | Valyne Hlan | I was wrong. I am still being chased by angry villagers. Must run. |
| 267 | Valyne Hlan | I stumbled into a cave full of old rubbish. Broken bottles, a terrible smell, and signs of scavenging. This must be the troll lair Sixul and Eron Salt picked clean of materials. They killed the troll, so it's safe for me to rest and review Davamin's journal. At least for the moment. |
| 268 | Valyne Hlan | Other than a surprising amount of prurient gossip about the village smith, Davamin's journal contains very little information beyond alchemical notations and notices to restock. I sit here in a dank, dark cave with the pungent odor of troll offal filling my nostrils. My brother would say it is the scent of poor decisions. I can't disagree. |
| 269 | Valyne Hlan | Success! I used a thimble of blue-colored oil and some agitating oxide to create a mage's wick, a candle-sized flame that burns a bright white-blue for days. While it burned, I noticed some white-blue ink in the margins of Davamin's journal. He must have used ink to hide his thoughts in plain sight! Now, to investigate. |
| 270 | Valyne Hlan | Davamin's hidden journal entries spoke of the meeting with Sixul and Eron Salt. The next entry seemed increasingly worried about the meeting Sixul, based upon additional readings. All entries after that repeat the same word, dozens upon dozens of times: Abavarlor. It sounds Ayleidoon, but what could it mean? |
| 271 | Valyne Hlan | If Eron Salt seeks my trail in remote villages, the city where I started is the safest place to travel. I'm also running low on food. (And I refuse to eat mushrooms that grew in troll dung.) |
| 272 | Valyne Hlan | I found a use for the troll dung mushrooms. You can trade them to shipboard apothecaries for use as ipecacs. In trade, I rented a hammock aboard his captain's moored ship until the day they set sail. Thankfully, Velothril Sisters does not bribe the dockmaster to watch the port. Hard to compete with the purses of Alliance spies. |
| 273 | Valyne Hlan | I approached the Mages Guild. Sixul mentioned their dislike of Velothril Sisters, but I am cautious to mention the name until I know why. I made an appointment for tomorrow with one of their guild members who is fluent in Ayleidoon. Perhaps he knows what abavarlor means. I could swear I've heard that name before. |
| 274 | Valyne Hlan | The Ayleidoon scholar informed me that 'abavarlor' roughly translates to 'forbidden symbol.' He seemed surprised at my inquiry, then grew suspicious. I made up a story regarding a relic I'd encountered in Cyrodiil, but as I excused myself he approached the magister. She signaled her adepts to take me into custody, so I fled. |
| 275 | Valyne Hlan | I'm back at the ship, apparently safe. It appears the Mages Guild doesn't bribe the dockmaster either. Now to consider my next course of action. Also, to wring out my hair. I had to hide in a barrel of pickled perch, and since my return I have received nonstop innuendo from the Khajiiti boatswain. Most of it is crude, but some is almost poetic. |
| 276 | Valyne Hlan | The Little Scrapper set sail today, and I with it. Velothril Sisters bounty hunters, Mages Guild adepts ... who shall pursue me next? Khajiiti boatswains excluded, of course. (Even the clever ones.) |
| 277 | Valyne Hlan | Why such interest in this Outcast Ruin, and why did Davamin's journal repeat the Ayleid word for 'forbidden symbol?' Could it mean 'forbidden text?' If so, 'abavarlor' most refers to Hecul, the Outcast Ruin's real name. But why did it appear in the first place? |
| 278 | Valyne Hlan | Abavarlor was the last word in Sixul's final update to Velothril Sisters. I remembered it this morning--nearly fell out of the boatswain's hammock. At the time I thought it was an Argonian farewell, or perhaps a prayer for luck. There's no source for this beyond Davamin, and Sixul certainly didn't gain access to his journal. Then how did he know? |
| 279 | Valyne Hlan | Tomorrow the Little Scrapper makes port. Tonight I spend my last moments of relative calm with the Khajiit boatswain. I told him of the Nereid that fled from me, weeks ago, and he said they fear a curse greater than their own. When I asked what curse I bore, he said, 'the abrasive beauty of a driven woman.' I'll miss the scruffy sea cat. |
| 280 | Valyne Hlan | I know my path. I must find Prior Velan, the skittish monk visited by Sixul. He knew more of the Outcast Ruin than he let on. I'm tired of being chased and I want answers. If he doesn't share, I'll force it from him. I don't fear retribution from his false gods. |
| 281 | Valyne Hlan | I temporarily own a horse. An old nag, rented for a fortnight. She won't get me to Prior Velan any faster than walking, but I'd rather wear out the seat of one pair of breaches than the soles of my only boots. |
| 282 | Valyne Hlan | You may wonder why I document my travels. You are insurance, of a sort. If I'm captured, I know of a substantial cache of runestones and can trade its location for your help in escaping. And if I suffer the same fate as my old colleagues? You'll have a record to bring to the Mages Guild, your Alliance, or someone who will take note. That's my hope. |
| 283 | Valyne Hlan | No luck at the priory. The brothers insist Prior Velan is not to be disturbed. They said it was an illness, but those smug, cassocked s'wits are poor liars. From Sixul's account, Prior Velan copied the original book on Ayleid ruins for the Mages Guild. He must have seen what was written about the Outcast Ruin. I won't be denied this knowledge. |
| 284 | Valyne Hlan | I abducted Prior Velan. Good thing I paid attention when Gaereleth Surefoot showed us how to properly toss a grapnel. I brought him to a hunter's cabin--it's remote, and unused this time of year. He hasn't made a sound since I captured him, but he will. This hunter's cabin has hunter's tools. Also? A hook to hang the quarry. |
| 285 | Valyne Hlan | Prior Velan talked. I'm not proud of what I did to make that happen, but it was necessary. He kept saying 'thrice-written, once damned' and 'it comes for my words.' When I asked if he meant Hecul, he shrieked and began babbling. I couldn't make sense of it, half of what he said was 'abavarlor.' I've never seen someone so terrified. |
| 286 | Valyne Hlan | It happened so fast. Prior Velan tore himself down from the hook and forced his way from the cabin. He kept shrieking abavarlor as I chased him, growing more and more distressed. Then he leapt headfirst into a ravine. Didn't even lift his hands. Said one word as he fell: Free. Then he dashed his brains against the rocks at the bottom. |
| 287 | Valyne Hlan | I'm tired. I'm scared. It feels as though I'm being watched, but I'm fairly certain that's all in my head. Tomorrow I begin my journey back to the city. I'll go directly to the Mages Guild and insist they explain why they care so much about a book that says nothing. I don't care what happens. I just want to know what this is about. |
| 291 | Valyne Hlan | Eron Salt is dead. I watched her unravel before me, like someone had plucked at a thread in a knit cap and tugged until there was nothing but a pile of string. She didn't call out. She just stood there, repeating abavarlor until her jaw was thin strips of bone and gore on the ground. I freed myself from the hook, but I don't know what to do next. |
| 292 | Valyne Hlan | I think I'm responsible for Eron Salt's death. Before it began, she kept muttering abavarlor, over and over. I told her she was coming apart at the seams--and a few hours later, she did. How does that make sense? If I could decide someone's fate with my voice, my old landlord would have long since buggered himself to death. |
| 293 | Valyne Hlan | I buried Eron Salt today. I wasn't sure how her people did it, what words they say. But I know enough about vengeful spirits to avoid creating new ones. |
| 294 | Valyne Hlan | Eron Salt's fate matched what I said to her. This isn't the first time someone's words resulted in someone's death. Davamin annoyed Eron Salt, and it appears her offhand wish for his demise came true. It's as if they were covered in kindlepitch, and the wish for their death was a lit torch. If words throw the torch, what spreads the kindlepitch? |
| 295 | Valyne Hlan | Prior Velan was most afraid of the Outcast Ruin's true name. 'Thrice-written, once-damned?' From my records, Sixul wrote it three times. Unless you count the etching he made from the River Ruin's walls. Does that count? I don't know how many times I've written it down. Two times? Three? Only in letters I sent. Do you still have them? Can you check? |
| 296 | Valyne Hlan | Prior Velan said 'It comes for my words' and then would not stop saying 'abavarlor.' His own words became 'forbidden symbols,' replaced with that one Ayleid phrase. Davamin's journal entries kept repeating the word. Eron Salt's letters as well. Is it some sort of infection? Once it begins, does it signal your doom? Sounds like a curse of some kind. |
| 297 | Valyne Hlan | The curse must be a Daedric. Some sort of knowledge trap. The more you learn, the closer you come to peril--like a blind kwama approaching a source of great warmth, not realizing it's a volcano's lip. Once you're over the lip, you fall until another's ill-spoken words burn you to ash. You survive by avoiding words. Life at a priory, perhaps? |
| 298 | Valyne Hlan | I quit. I want nothing to do with this anymore. I'll flee somewhere remote and live a solitary life. Before that, I'll return everything I took from Velothril Sisters. If they want their souls to become Daedric playthings, so be it. As for you? I suggest you burn my letters and sever all contact with Velothril Sisters as soon as you are abavarlor. |