Major H/F
The Major Holidays of Tamriel
Across Tamriel’s divided provinces runs a shared rhythm of observance. Though names, gods, and customs vary, the deeper intentions of the major holidays remain constant: to mark change, seek renewal, and reconcile the mortal world with the divine. These festivals unite cultures otherwise at odds, forming the spiritual calendar of the continent.
New Life Festival
Date: Morning Star 1
The year begins in joyous contradiction: winter’s cold met with songs of renewal. The New Life Festival is the great equalizer — rich and poor alike abandon rank to drink, dance, and forgive. Taverns overflow, debts are absolved, and rival cities share torchlight races through the streets. In essence, it is an act of rebirth, a collective cleansing of the old year’s misfortunes. Though each province celebrates differently — Nord ice plunges, Altmeri hymns, Khajiiti feasts — the spirit is one of liberation from the burdens of time.
South Wind’s Prayer
Date: Morning Star 15
The first true holy day of the year, South Wind’s Prayer honors the gentler aspect of Kynareth — bearer of temperate skies and healing breath. Farmers seek her favor for fertile seasons, sailors for calm passage, and healers for steady hands. The day’s prayers emphasize humility before nature: the wind’s touch as both comfort and warning. Even in arid Hammerfell or frigid Skyrim, chapels fill as people ask not for abundance, but for balance. It is a day of moderation — no feasts, no fasts, only stillness and thanks.
First Planting
Date: First Seed 7
This festival marks the covenant between mortal labor and the land’s return. Temples of Kynareth and Mara bless seed and soil alike, while villages set aside quarrels in public reconciliation. Symbolically, it is the moment Tamriel agrees to rebuild itself after winter’s silence. In provinces where farming is sparse — Morrowind’s salt fields, Valenwood’s forests — the day takes metaphorical form: artisans “plant” their year’s first work, and Bosmer hunters pledge restraint. Everywhere, it is an act of hope sown into earth or intention.
Jester’s Festival
Date: Rain’s Hand 28
Laughter serves as Tamriel’s pressure valve. The Jester’s Festival inverts hierarchy: beggars play kings, guards wear motley, and courtiers are mocked without reprisal. Beneath the foolishness lies social truth — one day when even the lowliest voice may lampoon authority. In High Rock’s courts, nobles hire bards to insult them with poetic flair; in Skyrim, jesters and drunkards parade through snowdrifts crowned with straw. The festival’s purpose is balance — to prevent tyranny by giving chaos one sanctioned day.
Merchants’ Festival
Date: Sun’s Height 10
Born from the practical heart of the Empire, the Merchants’ Festival is the continent’s grandest trade holiday. Markets bloom like wildflowers; caravans time their routes to converge on provincial capitals. In Cyrodiil, open-air bazaars spill through Imperial City’s plazas, while Redguards haggle over jewels under desert awnings. The day sanctifies enterprise itself — profit as a form of piety. Yet its deeper meaning endures from Alessian times: that commerce, properly conducted, binds provinces together more tightly than law.
Sun’s Rest
Date: Sun’s Height 20
A rare pause for breath in Tamriel’s relentless economies. The Guild of Merchants decreed Sun’s Rest as a day of universal closure: a binding ceasefire in trade to prevent exhaustion and greed. For one day, gold sleeps. Craftsmen set down tools, sailors moor their ships, and even thieves find few marks. In rural provinces it becomes a communal picnic; in cities, a day for temple visits and idle songs. Its purpose is less spiritual than humane — an acknowledgment that rest sustains prosperity as surely as work.
Tales and Tallows
Date: Hearthfire 3
The most feared night of the year. Tales and Tallows belongs to the restless dead, and few dare speak of it above a whisper. By tradition, candles are kept lit from sundown to dawn, their flicker said to keep spirits at bay. Necromancers once held public lectures; now they hide in basements and catacombs, continuing the dark observance in secret. Yet the holiday endures even in fear — as reminder of death’s inevitability and the thin veil between worlds. In Morrowind it becomes a night of reverent ancestor veneration; in High Rock, a scholarly vigil against hubris.
Witches Festival
Date: Frostfall 13
A festival of mock fear that remembers real horror. The Witches Festival arose from old Direnni and Reachfolk rites honoring the dead and the change of seasons. Today, citizens don masks, burn effigies, and indulge in mischief — but its core remains an act of defiance against death. By ridiculing spirits and monsters, mortals reclaim mastery over their dread. In every tavern, storytellers recite grim fables; in Skyrim, bonfires consume straw draugr; in the Summerset Isles, illusionists conjure harmless specters for children. Beneath the laughter lingers the knowledge that the dark is always watching.
Warrior’s Festival
Date: Sun’s Dusk 20
Across Tamriel, this day honors those who fight — from legionnaire to sellsword. Sparring matches, archery contests, and public duels fill the squares. Veterans display scars like medals, and young aspirants test themselves before their elders. In Skyrim, it is a mead-soaked proving ground; in Hammerfell, a celebration of craft as much as combat, with swordsmiths displaying their finest work. Philosophically, the day exalts discipline, not bloodlust — valor as moral order, violence constrained by honor.
North Wind’s Prayer
Date: Evening Star 15
As the year wanes, the people turn once more to the divine for mercy. The North Wind’s Prayer closes the harvest season with gratitude for survival and hope for mild winter. Altars to Kynareth overflow with offerings of bread, salt, and dried herbs; sailors pray for calm seas, hunters for steady prey. In Skyrim, households light the last of their summer candles, letting the smoke drift skyward “to carry thanks on the wind.” It is a quiet, tender observance — neither mournful nor joyous — accepting the year’s balance as fated.
Saturalia
Date: Evening Star 25
A holdover from First Era Breton custom, Saturalia is Tamriel’s winter revel — the great feast before the year’s end. Originating as a religious rite of the god Sanguine, it was tamed by Imperial adoption into a festival of gift-giving, song, and excess. Nobles exchange jeweled trinkets; peasants share mulled ale and stories by the hearth. Work ceases entirely. To participate is to affirm community — a reminder that shared joy is itself a defense against the cold. Despite its decadence, even priests attend, preaching that mirth, too, can honor the gods.
Old Life Festival
Date: Evening Star 30/31
The last twilight of the year belongs to remembrance. The Old Life Festival is both mourning and release: families visit graves, leaving letters for the departed in hollow logs or river currents. At midnight, these offerings are burned or cast adrift — symbolic messages to the afterlife. In Morrowind, ancestors are addressed directly; in Black Marsh, gifts are pressed into the mud for the Hist to absorb. The night is gentle, reverent, and unifying. By dawn, grief transforms to peace — making space for the rebirth of New Life at sunrise.
The Cycle of Meaning
Tamriel’s major holidays are less a calendar than a philosophy. They trace the arc of existence itself — birth, toil, folly, struggle, death, and renewal — embodied through collective ritual.
New Life opens the circle with rebirth.
South Wind’s Prayer and First Planting honor labor’s covenant with nature.
Jester’s Festival allows chaos to breathe inside order.
Merchants’ Festival and Sun’s Rest remind that creation must sustain itself.
Tales and Tallows and Witches Festival face mortality without surrender.
Warrior’s Festival upholds strength tempered by conscience.
North Wind’s Prayer, Saturalia, and Old Life close the year with gratitude, indulgence, and remembrance.
Together they form Tamriel’s moral compass: a civilization-wide agreement that to live is to balance light and shadow, duty and delight, toil and rest.