Investigate the Night Market’s enigmatic Curator in the latest Meet the Character!
The Curator, More than Just a Greeter in the Night Market
Gazmod the Collector,
You requested information on the Xivilai known by a similar yet lowly version of your name. My apologies for the time between your request and this letter, but the Curator is a singularly secretive individual. For someone so well-positioned in our esteemed society, he hides his origins with surprising diligence.
Beginning with common knowledge, the Curator acts as a friendly face in the Night Market. He helps explorers meet the factions that make use of the districts while they are accessible. He manages the patrons’ relationships with each other, both inside and outside of the market openings. As far as I can tell, what he actually does is make conversation. He’s considered an expert and a staple figure in the market’s occasional appearances. To be brief, many in Fargrave cannot fathom a Night Market without the Curator’s presence.
Of course, that is his persona. But you tasked me with figuring out who the Curator really is. To start, I made the journey to the Grasp of the Stricture’s records hall to see if the Curator acknowledges alignment with any particular Fargravian group or Daedric Prince. My expectation was that the Curator operated in our fair city as an unaligned entity. What I found in the archive was meager to say the least, so as an addition to this task you set before me, I sent a strongly worded missive to a member of the Grasp. Still, what I discovered was enough to further my investigation.
I should note that while no statement of alignment could be found, the Curator did leave behind a long string of notable mentions and appearances in the official records. He served as a prominent and successful auctioneer for many centuries at House Malenel. He championed several mortals in Fargrave, including the founding members of the Gleaners of Aurbis. He even created the chronicler position, which now dutifully records all the goings-on in Fargrave for the official record.
What I did confirm is that documented mention of the Curator extends as far back as records of the Night Market, but no farther. This mantle he’s taken, this persona of the Curator, it did not exist before the Night Market first appeared.
I spent some time in the Shambles, looking for any scraps of information that might exist in that derelict place, but to no avail. I inquired with the Gleaners and other mortal establishments, and while some knew of the Curator, none offered any new details. Then I turned to the auction houses and vendors at the bazaar. Our Curator is fond of occult sherds and broken mirrors, but he tends to gift them to Tachien or Molto. He never partakes in anything dead, either to feast upon or to study. In fact, the vendors of the bazaar speak highly of the Curator’s conversation. Many noted that he spent a great deal of time discussing the provenance of their wares but, when the time came, he neglected to purchase anything.
I attempted to continue my investigations at the House of Whims. After explaining the nature of my inquiry and divulging the difficulties I faced in trying to pursue answers, the concierge laughed. Openly. In my face. The noise must have alerted Madam Whim herself, for she quickly appeared and demanded to know what prompted such a delightful sound. I told her and waited hopefully for a response, but she only smiled sharply and informed me that “the House of Whims no longer trades in information about the Curator, other than where to find him.” No discussion of haggling. No room for negotiations. Just a clean dismissal and a refusal to engage with my questions. Who is the Curator to have garnered such loyalty from Madam Whim?
With nowhere left to turn, I sought out the Curator himself. He greeted me warmly and with a bemused look—as if he knew how I struggled in your name. We sat on plush cushions and did not speak while he poured wine from a decanter. Neither of us drank, which I suspect amused him to no end. Finally, the Curator broke the silence with a pointed, “You’re looking into me and my past. What have you learned?”
What could I do? I told him as much as I thought reasonable—which was annoyingly little. By the end of my short report, he only sighed. Like he was disappointed in me. Like he expected more.
“At first, I was afraid that my secrets would get out,” he admitted. “Over the ages, hiding who I was became a game. Despite the best efforts of Molto’s secret-finders and investigators like you, I haven’t lost.”
“You could just tell me.” To be honest, Collector, I didn’t think the ploy would work. Desperate investigations call for desperate tactics, however.
“In all the swirling nothingness of Oblivion, there is nothing as annoying as unanswered questions. I’ll tell you what,” the Curator said with a relaxed air, “I’ll answer one of your questions. Payment for seeing frustrating work through to the end. I’ll answer truthfully, but I won’t agree to answer completely if I don’t want to. Seem fair?” It wasn’t fair, but I nodded regardless. Any answer I got from the Curator could lead to new avenues to explore.
“If you were to look for information about yourself, where would you go?” I asked.
“What an interesting avenue. I can see why the Collector picked you for this task. You’re clever enough, obviously. If I were to hunt my own past, I’d do it in the Night Market. I became myself there.”
With our bargain satisfied, the Curator saw me out of his comfortable abode. Again, I ambled along the streets aimless and confused. But as I walked I heard a strange sound. There was a Daedrat chittering and snickering at me. So stymied was I that even the vermin laughed! Still, inspiration struck. Yet another lead opened in the face of my failure. The Daedrats of the Thousand Eyes collaborate closely with the Curator in the Night Market. If anyone breached the veil of mystery which surrounds the Xivilai, it would be the curious collective of the skittering and twittering. I remembered what Madam Whim said about no longer dealing in information about the Curator. She knew something, and she gave it away. Which meant that information about the Curator did exist.
There was one place left to search, even the Curator admitted to it. One location in all Fargrave where Molto’s secret finders and the Curator’s secrets met with fervor—the Night Market itself.
So that is where I will go, Collector. I’m not giving up the trail, but the Night Market is dangerous. Any number of things could happen and I would be remiss if I allowed the few details I dragged from the shadows to sink out of view.
When the Night Market ends, I will return to you with all I found.
Yours, in employment, Lawelikh
Sounds like Lawelikh’s investigation might have run into some difficulties. Perhaps you’ll fare better…? Are you ready to encounter the Curator and discover the Night Market’s other peculiar oddities? Let us know via Bluesky, X (formerly Twitter), Instagram, and Facebook.
The Night Market event zone is part of Season Zero and is live from April 29 until June 17.