Elder Scrolls Creature-a-Day 2!

The war durzog is a dog like creature, more reptile than dog, often kept by goblins for patrolling, and attacks on sight. These ones are specially trained by goblins for battle, they are sturdier and even more vicious than the wild ones. War durzogs were found in the Tribunal expansion for Morrowind 

FINALLY get to upload..stupid tumblr….Now I’m all caught up. <.< I would like to ride one of these……

Harvesting: Durzog

The entire body of the durzog, also known as a ‘sludgepuppy’, can be put to a great many purposes, including the blood, tripe and marrow. As large amphibian creatures that respond adequately to both training in practical tasks and war, they are unsurprisingly quite popular with the bog goblin races. An advantage by far over the continental races, that instead rely on large breeds of rat. Hardly impressive, regardless of their ability to destroy expensive pillows.

The thick hide of a durzog can be turned into an impressive medium-weight armor, akin to newtscale, yet more durable. To ensure the highest quality properties, the skin can be tanned with either ground pearl or slaughterfish scales. A thin layer of pearl will result in a workable, highly permeable leather. Of course, this effect only benefits argonians, as other races would quickly discover they are drowning within their own physical protection.

The slaughterfish scales should be lined within the hide, and rather than a cool tanning process, the hide should be heated substantially. The final result is a smaller, thicker and tougher leather, significantly harder to work with but almost magically streamlined. A favorite of pirates, ocean bandits and smugglers, due to the fast escape it provides. Assuming said person is capable of swimming.

Durzog blood, despite its offputting colouration, has powerful healing properties, of which allows the durzogs to survive brutal fights without significant infection or permanent injury. One should not ingest this product raw, however, as it will interfere with the natural acidity of the stomach, resulting in multiple temporary illnesses related to the digestive tract. Heavily diluted with water and rubbing alcohol, the resulting solution may be rubbed over wounds to prevent disease setting in. This property is most often bought up in publications suggesting a biological link to Black Marsh crocodiles.

The layer of reddish, fatty deposits found just under the skin, while also inedible unprepared, can be boiled and then cured for several weeks in a bitterplant keg to create a fattening juice, ideal for malnourished patients. Unfortunately it tastes somewhere between pure bitterpetal alcohol and oversaturated blubber. The pure adipose tissue is consumed in some remote clans of daedra worshipers, who associate the durzog with their gods. Anyone who willingly ingests such a substance should be rewarded with a new tongue.

The meat of a durzog is entirely edible, although hardly a delicacy. It is prepared in the typical fashion of fresh cuts of thick meat, although it is often dyed before serving. The rich and famous are supposedly put off by meat that is entirely cabbage-green. The organs, similarly tinted to the flesh and muscle, are also wholly edible, if a little unpleasantly textured. They make a brilliant goblin bait when fermented.

Durzog tripe is easily identified by its deep, bloody colouration and abominable scent. Of course, it has many alchemical uses, but most prefer to throw it to their hounds and place glasses of fragrant oil around their house to combat the stench. It is both one of the most and least useful natural products to originate from the swampland, as it retains the properties of whatever creature it came from. Occasionally including daft humans who underestimated a small tar pit.

Durzog bone is thick, durable and adequate for carvings, molds, weaponry and armor. Goblins particularly favor durzog bone in their weapons, lending normally fragile, useless clubs a boost in durability and increasing the physical pain they are capable of inflicting. Goblins however, lack the resources necessary to truly make use of durzog bone, which many of an adventurer is grateful for.

Journal: Dremora

The Great Anguish is somewhat similar to the disappearance of the Dwemer. It happened all at once, and we never saw it coming. I suppose the Empire didn’t see Vvardenfell becoming crippled and littered with corpses either. Only six years after the Nerevarine’s arrival, and Morrowind was crushed like an anthill in a tsunami. Heroes can’t save everyone after all. Evidently the gods couldn’t either. Brings the Tribunal into perspective, when the almighty Divines fail even their most favored peoples.

It was strange, at first. One hears thunder and prepares for rain, only to be violently surprised by the end of a bloody club. It was small at first of course, even daedra do not enjoy the salty marshes. Scamps, small raptors, a few Vermai. A bizarre but not apocalyptic sight. The wildlife reacted in kind, of course. Durzogs and trolls slaughtered the lesser daedra as they found themselves sinking into the mud. Poor bastards never stood a chance. The Bitter Coast has an unusual resource, one which is both generic and abundant. Mud. Vile, salty, sticky mud, formed from the decomposition of flora and fauna. When applied to an open wound, it burns with a vengeance. You can see why the coastal gates were the least productive for Dagon. Daedra may not lose their lives in the mortal way, but they certainly feel pain, and equally do not enjoy it. 

The army soon followed of course, quite literally armed to the teeth. While the wildlife scattered back into their groves, they seemed quite surprised to find.. nothing. Apparently they miscalculated the population density of the area, as they appeared to be rather disappointed. As I expected, one of them approached my place of residence. What I did not expect however, was for this individual to knock. Who ever heard of a bloodthirsty demon knocking politely on your front door? It was hardly stable enough to stand up to a scrib.

And yet, here they were, displaying some form of basic manners. I thought I would see an ogrim crammed into a suit as I opened the door, but I could not have been any more wrong. I almost mistook it for a child. It was in fact a dremora, but not a great, awe-inspiring horror. Rather, he, I assume, was scrawny, quivering in poorly-fitted armor, clutching a spear for dear life. And then he vomited on the floorboards.

I have seen many miserable creatures throughout my life, but this was remarkably pathetic. Their companions cackled and guffawed, but the mockery was abruptly replaced by silence as I pushed the poor sod aside to sweep up his mess.

Dagoth Ur was onto something, you know. ‘Divine Disease’ and all that. Corprus is not a lethal ailment. I occasionally compare it to a form of eternal life support. You will twist and consume, gnawing on your own flesh as your eyes are reduced to dust by the gales of ash and your mind rots away, but corprus does not kill its victims. That is a common misconception held by the general population. Pneumonia, cholera, rabies, blood poisoning, anything contracted at the time of infection quickly ravages the body, hence the statement, ‘death by corprus’. Terribly inaccurate but pervasive belief.

Perhaps, just perhaps, Morrowind would not have fallen so quickly if Dagoth Ur had not fallen himself. Nothing is immune to divinity. What could be better than a disease that spreads a blessing no creature of flesh can resist? There’s only one Nerevarine, after all, and the prophecies didn’t say anything about a daedra.