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Know ye this also, thy Breton race is descended from the ancient Druids of Galen, quick witted and strong in the mystical arts. Thy folks are crafty and intelligent, a learned people who use their gifts to guide others to enlightenment.

Thy Nord race is strong as the northern winds which sweep through icy glaciers. The arctic clime hast hardened thy folk for life's cruel and bitter hand.

Thy Redguard race is a people without a past, for in the Tiber War thou wert stalwart guardians of Hammerfell. As time moved on thy people held onto the ground for which they had shed tears of blood and now the land and the strength and endurance of rock itself is thine own to command.

Thy Dark Elf race is as deadly as the thorns of the black rose which blooms only in thy mother's breast.

Thy hast all that is graceful in thy brothers of day, yet thy mother is the moon, and thou art her children of the night.

Thy High Elf race is tall and stately, for thou art kings among princes. Thy people were first on this land to breathe the spring air and first to leap, nimble with the wind. Thine eyes canst see all even when naught is out but the Mistress of the Night.

Thy Wood Elf race is one with the forest and its creatures, and thy strength flows from the mother earth itself. Thou art one with the world.

Thy Khajiit race is born of the desert, where life is cruel and harsh and death comes on vultures wings.

Thou art feline and sleek, deadly hunters of the wastes.

Thy Argonian race is born of the swamps, thou hast stayed thyself from the open fields, for thou art hunters of a different sort, those who stalk thy prey in the still black waters.