I got a letter about that from Bera recently. Imagine my surprise when it was delivered by a yeth-grub tapping on my door. I almost skewered the ugly thing!

You've been talking to my sister, haven't you? She should settle down and toy with a proper bug's brains. At least there's a living to made in my trade.

Why is there a yeth-grub at my farm?

You lied to me, fool! I never gave you my notes. I'm much too smart to do something as stupid as that. Still, I appreciate you telling me even though you knew I would slaughter you for it. That is true devotion from a worthy assistant. I'm sorry for trying to saw open your skull. Here, please accept these as my sincere apology. And a little of my own knowledge -- just a little! Any more would drive you mad!

The experiment is complete. Now comes the most important part of any research: finding a buyer.

Then you know nothing. Idiot! Your help is much appreciated, and while I know you would be satisfied with the knowledge that you have transformed Tamriel forever, I will also give you these, as thanks. Don't ask me for anything else!

Then die!

Wait -- I didn't give you my notes, did I?

It... worked? It worked! Well, it was supposed to go to the Sarys farm, but it went to a farm, which means that I am a genius! This is it, my assistant, the beginning of a new era in pan-Tamrielic communications! Can you picture it? Yeth-grubs criss-crossing the skies, ferrying messages to and fro! Yes, you can, can't you? You can picture it a little too well, can't you? You've seen too much now -- you know too much! I'll buy your silence with a blade's edge! Die!

Another dead bug. I'm starting to see a pattern here. My experiments were going great until you showed up and ruined them. Well, I'm wiser now. I won't make the same mistake again. Get out. You are no longer an assistant to the great %name!

No! I must not get distracted. I am so, so, ever so close to a breakthrough. I can feel it in my brain. Here. This precious child of mine, he is the perfect specimen. As before, escort him outside, but don't you dare touch him. Let him fly freely, but follow -- discreetly! -- and when he has fulfilled his commands, return to me.

So this last precious creature followed you around for a time and then just... died? You expect me to believe that? What did you do to it? Did you touch it? Did you look at it? Oh, if I could fiddle in your brains for just a few moments, what a competent assistant I would have. May I?

It died, did it? Did you squash my experiment, assistant? Did you squash it just to feel it squirm? Did you? What did it feel like when it squirmed? Was it gooey? Was it warm? Wait! I need a quill.

But nevermind that. You are a good, obedient assistant. I have prepared another yeth-grub for you to escort. Take it outside and when it does whatever it's going to do, report back to me immediately. Don't dilly or dally -- I'll know if you do!

That stupid, ugly yeth-grub attacked you? And you destroyed the specimen? Damn you %PCRace and your tiny brain! I could have learned so, so much. Imagine it, an army of attack grubs at my beck and call. Do you see it? Well -- give it up! Dash it, it's impossible! I've tried, oh, believe me, I have tried. Their pathetic frames are too weak for war. We settle for mere messengers instead.

My precious grub is dead? Admit it, you squashed it, didn't you? You squashed it just to hear it scream? Didn't you? Well, I don't judge, we've all been there.

That stupid, ugly yeth-grub attacked you? And you didn't destroy the specimen? It could attack another potential assistant -- or, worse, someone could reverse engineer my research from its brains! Who sent you?

Escort the yeth-grub outside, assistant!

Actually, nevermind. You wouldn't understand them anyway. I don't need you for that! Simply -- well, you are aware of how silt striders are operated. I should explain -- the brain is -- it doesn't matter. Suffice to say, yeth-grubs and silt striders have very different brains. Do not despair! A brain is a brain. Simply poke, and prod, and -- you're not getting this. Fine. This handsome grub here. I want you to escort it outside, and follow it where it goes. When it gets where it's going, report back to me.

Ah hah! Brilliant! You have just entered into an endeavor unlike any other -- well, I should say, like one other, but it was a very long time ago, that one. Unlike any other in recent history! But I get ahead of myself. Before you can assist me as my assistant, you must read my research notes. Years of painstaking research! You must handle them carefully.

That's fine. I don't need your help anyway. Now get lost, you're blocking my light.

Yes, yes, my experiment. THE experiment. This will radicalize -- no, revolutionize, the face of Morrowind, as the silt strider did for our forebears. I need an assistant, in fact, have done for some time. Will you help me?