Hail mighty Hermasheolg the master of all knowledge and the origin of intrigue!
You think yourself knowledgeable about the Bretons, those half-elf folk who live in their high rock and think a nasty man comes round to poison their crops? Nay, I say, for your knowledge has not been gifted by Hermasheolg, and so it is useless! Attend well, clueless ones, and I shall lay upon you the deep knowledge handed to me by God itself.
The Bretons started life as shadows cast by Mantiadama, the inverse Tower which is buried deep in the sky, its peak is far below the tasty crust of Nirn and its heart is located inside the sun. Now, the Bretons were sad to be only shadows cast by a messed up Tower, and so they pleaded with Le Riaur, the golden crowned king of Mund to change their shape into something more pleasing. Le Riaur was a prideful king and greedy, and so he demanded their devotion in return, telling them that shadows only exist by the divine light of Le Riaur. Yet, some Bretons were not convinced and claimed that Le Riaur was a false king who had seized power from his father Magneux by trapping him in musty old scrolls and flinging them into the sun. This had been how the false king had taken power. The Magpie King had committed an evil act which was driven by his greed for shiny things, for you see, Le Riaur was the quintessential Magpie King of Mund and so desired all shiny things to the extent that he would murder his own father for them. Those who worshipped Magneux would not bow before Le Riaur and they were the ones who were blinded by his light and who melted into pools of faithlessness. The rest of the Bretons having seen this, instantly pledged their loyalty to Le Riaur, promising their souls to him if only he should grant them more stable forms.
Le Riaur acquiesced and released golden beams of energy from his eyes, and all that his gaze fell upon was transformed. The Bretons awoke beneath Mantiadama and realised they no longer were simple shadows, and for the first time they could move freely on the nights when no moons grace the sky, for they had become the generators of shadow. And yet they still complained. Now they argued over who was shinier, who was more golden, who had the most light inside them, and this set Le Riaur into a rage, and he ripped apart one of their number who was named Cheyeor and threw his corpse into the fields and made it lie there for 16 nights and 9 days until the worms and the maggots got to it and it started to smell. Cheyeor’s corpse drove the point home, and no other Bretons dared question their King again. That was until Hialt the Early roared in Le Riaur’s face and ripped out his own heart and threw it at the ground where it exploded and blew off the King’s beak so that he could no longer make commands. Alas, the King’s raven knight, Trimaque flew to his master’s aid and tore out the lungs of Hialt the Early and made the first bagpipes which he used to play a tune so alluring it convinced reality itself to heal Le Riaur. His beak repaired, the Magpie King plucked more Bretons from out of the crowd and swallowed them and he regurgitated a golden liquid into a crystal bowl. Inside this bowl he dipped a few of the Magneux-worshipping Bretons and it transformed them into golden coloured creatures. These creatures had pointy ears like cats and skin the colour of honey and they were completely loyal to Le Riaur. The last of the Magneux worshippers tried to flee but they were trapped in the corpse-ooze of Cheyeor and their feet stuck fast in the slime. Seeing their plight, Le Riaur grabbed the ooze of Cheyeor and placed it into a person-shaped crystal bowl along with a golden skin Breton and ate the mixture until his stomach was full of corpse juice and golden skins. Suddenly, he opened his beak as wide as the Mund and spewed forth a torrent of molten gold into the person-shaped mold, filling it with golden effluvium.
When the mold cooled, the Bretons were removed and placed onto a high rock to cool further. The Bretons emerged as hairy, tailless monkeys with pointy ears, and so Stenoeur the merciful came and he sheared them until they resembled the Bretons we know of today. Happy that this new host was loyal to himself and no other, Le Riaur squawked at the broken Tower until it grew from the ground and it opened its silver gate to name itself ADAMANTIA the Tower which delves deep and rises high. Underneath and above it, after it and before it, was placed an island named Fie Balera and a sea was placed beneath and around it which has a name which must be uttered only when no one is listening. The high rock became a home for the Bretons and so they never needed to return to Fie Balera and so no longer were shadows beneath a broken Tower.
This is the true origin of the Bretons as told to me by the Abyss. Hermasheolg be praised! Now, why are there so many moths and butterflies crawling on my skin?
-Loyal follower of Hermasheolg-