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Cooking Crown Boxes with special guests Doos in Tamriel ESO-RP EPISODE 53
For episode 53 we bring you some Tamrielic cooking, follow the recipes by our special guests and let yourself get inspired. Their wonderful creations can be found here: www.Doosintamriel.com We also discuss Crown crates, our personal opinion on them.



Literary Corner

Ruminations in Exile Katrelle

It is a still night as the ray of the near full moon reaches out to caress the foot of my bed in my high lonely room of the keep. I barely stir as I reach out with my senses to try and detect if there is any movements about. Nothing... simply the soft crackling of the last embers in the hearth nearby.


Talen’s Bag Talen Duskfall

Looking down at her bare toes, she wiggled them in the sand and mused over her feelings. She felt rooted to the shore of Devon’s Watch, for it was a tether to the far shores of the Valenwood. Lifting her gaze, she searched the sea, as if willing the sight of her homeland into view. A pang hit her chest, echoing of homesickness.


A Kinlord’s Introspection Sigmund Grief

I had long thought that the penning of a journal was redundant, in its simplest motive. Why would one ever pen a sack of scribblings that no one would ever see but him, and him alone? Yet now, as I sit here, noting nonchalantly the exact words I had once oh-so despised, that no one would ever see. And out of all the reasons romantic in our world, I am doing the deed out of sheer boredom…


Ralleidril: As the River Flows Sarin

From the tradeport that is Seadirge and the Alauda Advance, nestled beneath the valley and soaring summit home of we cunning Ralleidril, finer elements of lore and magical artistry are drawn inwards, refined, and expelled. Across the Summerset isle they soar upon white sails now bearing the proud mark of the Solstice Sun - the gilded sigil of our bloodline.


Vagrant Thoughts Malfyrvis

The strange nordess caught his interest quickly. One of his informants, a small and unassuming slip of a servant, spoke to him of a pair of attractive women, one being tall and pale, the other exotic and enigmatic- both exceedingly beautiful. When the Falcon finally saw her, he knew her alabaster skin, niveous hair, and ruby eyes were a sign of the "Dark Gift", as he called it. He invited her to his study, his well-kept home away from home in the unforgiving Alik'r desert. He had the walls paneled with black marble and the windows heavily leaded, and lit the chambers with crimson candles. A nightwood winerack, a modest bookcase, and a small shrine to Saint Veloth completed the room. The vampiress joined him, but neither partook of the drink he offered nor sat in the chair he provided.


While Shornhelm Sleeps Styrax

Dusk was cresting when the dark rider rode into Shornhelm proper. No help for it. Really, it was probably for the best, considering his intent.


Song of the Khaj’Dar DarZhinski

Vado Khaja an valah tanja
Khajiit hirsinith zivsho an sharra



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