#Dagoth ur x nerevarine

[dxwnfxll]

Nerevar: just trying to get a good nights sleep

Dagoth-Ur:

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Whore AU - Gilvoth

Author's Note: nsft, oral

-------------

Be most careful here, the Temple had warned Sadara. For in the seat of their power is the house of devils most dangerous, there where Dagoth Ur himself is found. Worst and most evil of the lot, and more depraved than the rest of his family. Brutal, the last whore had called him. He always tended the wounds he left, but he enjoyed inflicting pain. When she mentioned this to the Temple priest she had been speaking to, he had scoffed and said, "What else can one expect from the Sharmat? He seeks the suffering of all beneath him, to better bring them under his will. Do not let yourself hear his lies, do not let them enter into your heart. Pray and be saved from his influence."

But Sadara had seen plenty of depravity since the move to prostitution, and she felt nothing could really surprise her. And something else - there was something else too, something that told her that surely they were wrong. It seemed moments like that cropped up more and more often as she'd seen each successive brother.

She was beginning to suspect that maybe she WAS Nerevar's incarnate. As little sense as it made for a whore to be so, though...there were too many little moments that made her suspect it. She'd slept in Odrosal - and dreamed, of some sparring match with the two of them. Only...only none of them were the gray that she knew them to be. And nor was she. The arm of hers she saw was golden, and so were theirs...

No. No, I am not Nerevar's incarnate. Because if I am...

No. She would completely forget it, all of it. She was not Nerevar. She was just a whore, coming to do a job - that was ALL.

She hadn't told them, merely thanked them for their hospitality and left.

Now she approached Dagoth Ur, the building. It was ominous, going down the path with the blight storm at its worst so far. Turning that dwemer crank, rushing to get into the door, and finally dusting herself off when she got inside.

An ash ghoul introduced himself as Dagoth Ienas, and after she responded in kind he seemed to nod.

"You're expected," he said.

"Will I be seeing Lord Dagoth or his brother first?"

For all their warnings about the wickedness of the Sixth House, the Temple had also taught her - to give every appearance of deference and politeness.

"Lord Gilvoth," Ienas said. He gave her directions to Gilvoth's 'quarters' for lack of a better term and off she went.

There was a sound in the distance much like she'd heard in the other Dagoth strongholds, a sound like an unceasing engine. And again, there was that feeling of familiarity that she was trying very hard not to let linger. It was all wrong, all of it. It��wasn't supposed to look like this!

She found Gilvoth at an easel, finishing the work of a chimer, she assumed himself in the old days. It was magnificent - the red fabric of the robe he was wearing looked as though she could reach out and tug it.

"It's beautiful," she said, forgetting for a moment what she was there for, and then when Gilvoth turned correcting herself, "Lord Gilvoth. ...I'm Sadara. I'm sorry, I couldn't help but admire the painting."

On glancing away from him she noted several other paintings in the room, up on the walls. The outside of what looked like Dagoth Ur the building itself, only instead of merely rock, ash, and lava there were flowering plants and trama root below. Above there were cliffracers nesting, and clouds in the blue sky...

Another, of Nerevar - somewhat like the paintings she'd seen in the Temple, but somehow MORE. Blue eyes, white hair, and the frame of a great warrior lit up with a chest wound.

There were two smaller ones - some of the ash creatures, she thought.

Every one looked lifelike, and she had to apologize once again when she realized Gilvoth was talking.

"I didn't take you for the sort of person to appreciate art," he said, watching her carefully. "What do you have to say of this one?"

He gestured to the one he was done with. She came closer, puzzled as to why he'd ask. The chimer stood tall and proud, lifting his chin as though he were looking down at the viewer. His face...

I know that face.

Gilvoth must have seen the discomfort in her expression because he immediately said, "No need to be shy, as long as you're not vulgar I'm happy to hear talk of what I paint."

"It's not that I think it's bad, because it's not. It's beautiful," Sadara replied, "But...I...I really shouldn't--"

"Go on."

"I know this face. I've seen it somewhere before, I swear I have."

Gilvoth turned back to the easel. "We can continue this conversation, but I would prefer you to be on your knees."

"You want to keep working with me pleasuring you?"

"Call it a test of my skill." There was something almost impish in his expression as he then said words she couldn't quite identify, "Sit, boy."

One moment she was on her feet, the next she was down. All she'd had to do was blink, and it was just--as if her body had just instantly, instinctively obeyed a command she didn't know herself.

And as she moved down before him, he adjusted his loincloth. The moment she had his cock in her mouth there were two more words.

"Good boy."

Sadara felt a rush of wriggling delight at the words, inexplicable, unexplainable. After lavishing it with a bit of attention, taking it deep, pushing it into her throat - there was a grunt and another question.

"Did those words do anything to you?"

She pulled back, "I-I felt good."

"Good how?"

"Like--I don't know, unreasonably happy. The first two I didn't think anything. It just...why do you ask?"

"Keep going, and I'll explain."

(How he could do THAT, she didn't know. How in oblivion could he possibly keep painting while questioning her and getting his cock sucked?)

She obeyed, stroking at him as she lavished the underside of his cock's head with her tongue.

"You see, there are certain things suspected about you. Certain things that may make other members of the family very upset."

"Is this that Nerevar business?" she asked, stopping to suck at the tip of Gilvoth's cock for a few moments. "I don't claim to be Nerevar. I'm just here to do a job, I swear that's all."

She went down again, relaxing her jaw and letting his cock breach her throat.

"You claim nothing, yet...there are many things piling up to hint that you are his incarnate." There was a shift in his tone, almost humorous. "The birthmark, for example. The fact that you took less time to get to each of us than all the others before you. That you recognized Voryn, as he was in the First Era. And..."

There was a groan as she took his cock deep enough to swipe her tongue over the spot where it met his balls.

"And there's the fact that you responded to commands in Ald Chimeris, a language I am quite sure you have no reason to know. Unless you're a scholar in your spare time."

"No," Sadara responded, pulling back again to speak, "I've been learning the lute and know a few songs in the khajiit language, but nothing more than that."

She was quite used to this sort of thing - it was one of Crassius's favorite ways for her to service him, to hold a conversation with her while she was sucking him off. This was easy, familiar...

(Something was missing.)

"I suspected as much." There was a slight grunt from Gilvoth as she took him balls deep a few times. "You're certainly quick, aren't you?"

"Or you're sensitive."

"Could be, yes." He paused, and spoke again a sentence she couldn't understand. "Are you going to be good for me?"

"Yes." The word she didn't know was out before she could stop it. She did NOT know the word she'd just said, had never even heard it before. She swept her tongue up and down, over every inch of Gilvoth's cock it could get to, furiously trying to show (something, frustratingly she didn't know what!).

A moment later his cock twitched, pulsed, and spilled his seed onto her tongue. Sadara swallowed quickly, and moved back - but not before tucking Gilvoth back into his loincloth.

"Yes, I believe you ARE Nerevar," he said, "Up. Now."

She obeyed instantly.

"Voryn will be harder to convince."

"I'm not," she said, "I swear, I'm not!"

"Oh no? Then why did you respond to Ald Chimeris like that? Commands Voryn has used on Nerevar? Commands you would not know if you were not him, that wouldn't affect you unless..."

"I don't want to make him angry," she said, "I want to make it back to the Temple in one piece."

"I know, I know. Stay calm. He may be angry but certainly he'll believe once he's seen you. Stay here."

She obeyed, feeling apprehensive and anxious as she waited. While he was gone Ienas came in with a small meal which she ate gratefully, glad for the distraction.

Then she looked back at the portrait Gilvoth had been working on. Was this Lord Dagoth as he had been - before? Surely if she wasn't Nerevar there wouldn't be this sense of familiarity. The thought of how accurately it was capturing him, of how even the little details were well done.

Gilvoth reappeared as she sat staring.

"He's not happy, not in the least," he said.

"I could have told you that," Sadara replied, "Odros and Endus said--"

"Bear with it," he went on, "He'll be intent on testing you, but so long as you cooperate I see no reason why he should do anything rash."

Somehow that was not a very comforting thought.

"You're expected."

He held the door for her and she went on, further forward. There was a strange fear over and above the one she already felt, as if she were remembering the echo of something long gone. The details were not there, but the feeling remained.

The next door.

And then, trembling, she stood before him. He stood facing away from her, looking at the statue on the other side of the room.

"So, the Temple tries a new trick," he said coldly. "How dare you? How DARE you think to mantle the name of--"

He whipped around to face Sadara and approached. But as frightened as she was she keep her eyes directed where she assumed his own were.

"I don't think to do anything," she said, "I was hired to do a job. Anything else isn't my doing. I haven't claimed anything."

"So the birthmark?"

"I didn't put it there."

"The clear study of the layout of my brothers' strongholds?"

"I don't know shit about House Dagoth's strongholds!" she couldn't help but retort.

"And now you've fooled even my most suspicious brother," Dagoth Ur said. "How DARE you?"

"I'm not the one--"

He spoke now in, she assumed, Ald Chimeris. And from the tone of his voice she assumed it must be something terrible - but while there was again that strange familiarity, there was NOT recognition. She felt she had heard this before, but not in a way she could exactly remember.

Then he stopped, and spoke two words.

"Sit, boy."

At once she went down. But while with Gilvoth she had merely obeyed automatically, this time there was something else.

She looked back up, wriggling just slightly, feeling a quick eagerness that came over her suddenly. An eagerness to please the mer before her that faded quickly but made itself known anyway.

Dagoth Ur stopped dead in his tracks, and lifted a hand to cover where she assumed his mouth was.

When she started to get up, thinking some outburst of anger was coming he came back to himself.

"No. Stay down--where you are."

She moved back down and looked at his retreating back with no small amount of shock.

What had just happened?

[ridreamir]

Timeline /Dragon break AU

Finding out that you, the last Dragonborn, are the Nerevarine once again reborn after coming to Solstheim and accidentally awakening yet another ancient evil:

Dagoth Ur: I made you, and you made me. Nebarra and Teldryn Sero, replacement mer of your original bitch tribunal: Bro why'd you make that guy?!?! You,(human?), not having any clue what's happening: I didn't!!! He's talking stupid!!!

And you had three Elven lovers (and haters), your honor. (I will write more of this AU LMAO) Do we get some Mannimarco in there as well

[whitegoldtower]

Better idea for my Nerevarine.

Name: Balaarys Marethi

Age: Appears around 35

Appearance: pre-op but post T ftm Dunmer. Quite muscly. Long, white hair and black eyes - those who sent him to Morrowind could spot him as the Nerevarine a mile off because of the white hair and black eyes; he doesn’t look like a regular dunmer, and looks more like a chimer. That, and him being FTM hints STRONGLY at Azura’s influence (being the Prince of Dawn and Dusk, and - by extension - transition.) They took one look at him and went “yeah, it’s this one, there’s no questioning it.” Then kidnapped him from Solstheim and stuck him on a boat.

Backstory: He was living quite happily as a farmer of ash yams in Solstheim until he was torn away from his life and put on that boat to Morrowind. He was a worshipper of Azura, and for all intents and purposes, was a normal guy, aside from this deep yearning in his heart that he couldn’t quite place. Whether a yearning for a person, or a thing, or a place, he wasn’t sure. Only dreams of a touch like sunlight, and a breath of fresh air, a blood red setting sun, and the occasional sensation of jet black hair sweeping over his skin, smelling like fire. Balaarys was a romantic at heart, and mused on these dreams through song as he worked, singing quietly; in this AU, he wrote the song “Black is the Colour of my True Love’s Hair” by Nina Simone. - I’d consider this song his theme song ngl. He’d hum the tune quietly to himself whilst farming, or on the boat to Morrowind, or absently when he’s concentrating on a task; he’s haunted by this song. He doesn’t know the words, just the melody, but every so often he will try to find the words (he doesn’t succeed - it’s not time for him to know them yet).

He later learns who he really is - Nerevar. And because he’s a smart lil guy, the pieces fall into place; the song he’s haunted by, the dream he thought he concocted, he knows who that really is: Voryn Dagoth.

Voryn Dagoth might have been the ‘true’ Nerevar’s secret lover, but those feelings were amplified in his reincarnation to Balaarys; one might even now consider Voryn Dagoth to be Balaarys’ soulmate. Which is an absolutely crushing revelation to Balaarys.

Balaarys is being asked, essentially, to kill his dreams. So my playthrough of Morrowind is just a very tragic love story.

Of course, Balaarys goes through with it, and faces an extremely difficult task; there is no way to save or redeem Dagoth Ur, because as soon as he severs the heart, Voryn Dagoth will die.

Of everyone he’s ever met, when he meets Dagoth Ur, to make it even more painful, he’s never been spoken to so lovingly. For someone who’s supposed to be this horrific villain, Dagoth Ur offers him mercy, to let him go free, tells him they don’t have to fight, tempts him to join him, calls him ‘moon and star’.

On top of that, the parts of Nerevar’s fragmented memories of Voryn Dagoth that Balaarys holds dear are shocked by the reality of what Voryn Dagoth looks like now. If it wasn’t enough to have Balaarys’ dreams shattered, he’s now faced with what that dream has become. The monster it has warped into.

Furthermore, despite his corprus being ‘cured’, he knows this isn’t truly the case, and that sooner or later, the negative effects will come back, like a cancer, worse and more malignant. He knows it will eventually kill him. He knows he’s living on borrowed time, and wants to live as Balaarys instead of just a reincarnation of Nerevar as much as he can before that time runs out.

So after severing the heart, he can’t bring himself to just leave. In response to being earlier called ‘moon and star’ by Dagoth Ur, he does what Nerevar never did, and names him ‘sun and sky’, and stays by his side as he dies. He removes Voryn Dagoth’s mask and kisses whatever monstrosity is underneath it. He’s sick and dying anyway, so what does it matter, right?

This completely hardens his heart.

Balaarys doesn’t care for Almalexia. Nor Vivec. Nor Sotha Sil. He kills the tribunal with no regrets, trying to ‘wipe’ Nerevar from his system because he’s sick of the story. Or rather, he wants to be Balaarys, not Nerevar. Once that’s done, he forsakes Azura.

As a result, his hair turns black, and his eyes turn red. He’s completely gotten rid of anything ‘Nerevarine’ about himself, aside from the memories of Voryn Dagoth, which he keeps tucked away safe in a corner of his heart.

Balaarys, then, follows the refugees to Skyrim, looking no different to an ordinary dunmer. The only thing that seems to make people question it, now, is the way he sings the lyrics to the song he used to hum, having finally found the words. He sings with such an aching weight that people can’t help but listen. And after he’s sung, he moves on to the next town, forever wandering. Sure, he got Nerevar out of his system, but he also now has no idea who ‘Balaarys’ actually is, and he’s too old to start trying to figure it out. He has no sense of identity, no sense of purpose.

He becomes a piece of folklore in Skyrim; sometimes, out on the roads late at night, a heart-wrenching song can be heard, carried on the wind. A song about a man, and his black-haired lover. Some say the singer is a ghost whose lover was killed. Some, albeit few, know the real story.

As Balaarys grows older and his corprus comes back, he slowly forgets the lyrics, and returns to humming, still wandering, slowly going mad. He starts to look more and more zombie-like, no longer the muscular, white haired Nerevarine, but an emaciated, frail dunmer.

Then, in Skyrim, years later, when the Dragonborn arrives, his skeleton can be found in the tundra between Winterhold and Dawnstar, along with his journal, telling the story of the Nerevarine from his point of view.

If you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed the angst.

Also, this song is the theme for later on, when he’s in Skyrim. If it was a film, this would be the end credits. ✌🏻

[khaidrate]

Anyone care about Morrowind still?

if there's anyone who cares about some... killing a crazy ex wife content ;), read up! Description:

In the shadow of gods and betrayal, Ralaas, the reluctant Nerevarine, carries the weight of two lives - his own and that of the warrior-king whose soul whispers within him. Faced with the vengeful and broken Almalexia, he must confront the echoes of love, hatred, and sacrifice that bind them all in a web of ancient tragedy.

Blades clash in the heart of a dying city as Nerevar’s spirit pleads for a peace that seems forever out of reach. Amid rage and sorrow, a divine bond shatters, leaving behind only echoes of what once was - a love consumed by ambition and a warrior haunted by memory.

Or, the Nerevarine kills his mentor's ex-wife.

[vallaxes]

The Nervarine sloppily making out with whatever's behind Dagoth-Ur's mask

[late-nite-scholar]

Aug 9th (Day 5): Prompt- Forgotten / Devotion

Day 5: Devotion- Dagoth Ur is dead. But Voryn Dagoth survived and now has to deal with that fact, and the fact that everyone and everything he once cared about is gone. But the Nerevarine isn’t quite ready to give up on him— or let him give up— just yet.  Post-game Morrowind (and completed Tribunal expansion), Pre/Early relationship. Rilenna uses they/them pronouns and is not Nerevar. Shameless Nerevoryn shipping (both Nerevar and Nerevarine). Voryn is dramatic and we love him for it.

Voryn Dagoth x Indoril Nerevar, Dunmer Nerevarine x Voryn Dagoth

Prompts by @tes-summer-fest

Warnings- Blood, canon-typical violence

Wordcount- around 1800

(image made in picrew. description in alt text)

***

He hurt. He was recovering, yes, but it would take time for him to regain his strength. His wounds were mostly healed, though the stab that had gone through his body would ache for a long time yet. But he would survive. 

That was part of the hurt. That he survived at all. He shouldn't have. He believed that to his core. It would've been so easy. To make an end of it once and for all. He would have welcomed that fall, to join all his machinations in the lava below. To end things at Red Mountain, where it had all begun and ended and begun again the first time. To die for good, as he should have. 

To be with Nerevar again. 

Ancestors, he missed Neht. His beloved, but never truly his. Circumstance had always kept them apart in some way, no matter how they'd tried. He knew he wasn’t the only one who’d felt that way, but at the time they'd all done what was needed. And he'd done it, gritting his teeth and smiling as he had. His devotion had been absolute; to his House, to his Hortator, and to the First Council’s grand plan to unite and protect their people. And all he’d been rewarded with had been betrayal, death, and then a terrible, corrupt existence. He’d been freed from all that, but had no devotion left to give. Not that there was anything left to devote himself to; everything was long gone. And had he died, perhaps he could have finally been with Nerevar. But he hadn’t died, and it was a terrible, deserved punishment for his many, many sins. 

"Hey Voryn, you wanna go for a walk or should I just leave you here feeling sorry for yourself?" a voice asked in Cyrod-accented Dunmeris, interrupting his thoughts. He looked up; Rilenna stood at the entrance to their cave with their hands on their hips. They grinned. 

"I am an expert on feeling sorry for oneself, but we should get you up and about. We've been here nearly two weeks. I don't know if you plan on staying in this cave forever, but sooner or later I'd like a proper place to sleep." 

"You don't have to stay." He tried to say it offhandedly, like the leaving of the one person who'd shown him kindness in nearly four thousand years wouldn't affect him. 

As he got to his feet and made his way over, they sighed sarcastically. "All that talk of wanting me to come meet you and now you want me to go? 'Come, Sweet Nerevar…’ and all that? I know I'm not Nerevar, but I didn't think my company was that bad!" 

The self-deprecation at the end made something inside him twist. Not for the fact that Rilenna was not truly Nerevar reborn and the inherent mourning in that, but for how they constantly made such digs at themselves. He reached out, and touched their shoulder. 

“I do like your company. But, I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay.” 

Rilenna shrugged. “Where else would I go? Besides, I dragged you out of that volcano, I should at least make sure you can take care of yourself. Especially after I stabbed you. Come on, let’s walk through the trees. It’s a nice day today, we’ll go down to the river, maybe even catch something for supper!” 

“That sounds lovely.”

The walk to the river was slow. He was better, but still easily winded. Rilenna slid their arm around him, their other hand taking his as he started to sag.

“I got you. Is this too much? Should we go back?” Their crimson eyes had gone big, and they chewed their bottom lip as he wheezed. 

“No. Let’s keep going. I’ll be alright.” 

“You don’t look alright.”

“We’ll walk slower. I’ll be fine. It would be nice to sit by the water.” He assured them. They put a hand to his forehead, just above that third eye that was a reminder of what he’d been. They frowned, like a mother checking a child for illness, but nodded. 

“Okay.”   

By the time they got to the river he was glad to drop onto the scrubby grass and sit. The walk, though short, had taken a lot more out of him than he cared to admit. Rilenna hovered over him, pressing a waterskin into his hands.

"Have something to drink." 

He did, and it helped a little. "Thank you." 

"Are you in pain anywhere?" 

Before he could reply, a voice rasped from the trees. "If he's not now, he might be. Or we could avoid that and you two could give us whatever coin and valuables you've got."

A half dozen roughly dressed mer melted out of the forest around them. Despite their ragged appearance, their weapons were honed and well cared for. They surrounded them in a loose circle, taunting grins on their faces.

Rilenna drew their axe. "Fuck you and the guar you rode in on. You're getting nothing from us but an ass kicking." 

"Huh, and here I thought you were a proper Dunmer, but you're just a filthy n'wa….." 

Rilenna's axe clove the man's face in two before he could finish the slur. That stunned the rest for a second, buying them a precious few seconds. Rilenna kicked and swung, knocking the thugs away from Voryn as much as possible. They cast both Weapon and Armor Eater in quick succession before throwing themselves into the fray. And they were relentless. He could only watch in awe, before coming to his senses and casting a barrier spell to keep Rilenna protected from harm. He couldn't do much else. 

One of the bandits saw this, and made for him. He knew he couldn't hold the spell on Rilenna and protect himself at the same time. But nor could he actually fight in his wounded state. He grit his teeth, perhaps if he could…

But the bandit was on him now, delivering a kick to his ribs that sent a shriek through his body. He gasped— in too much pain to scream— as his body curled protectively around itself. Through watered eyes he watched the other man raise his foot again and braced for more. 

The bandit stopped, frozen to the spot. Then a blade went through his neck, separating head from body. The body fell in a heap, head rolling to rest about five feet away. 

The bandits were quiet now, because now they were all dead. He looked around in a daze. Rilenna had made short work of them. He knew they were an indomitable warrior, but he'd never been so close to their raw, aggressive power. Their own duel had been much more civilized, in comparison. He saw now how powerful a battlemage the Nerevarine really was. Rilenna had told him they hadn’t really wanted to fight him, and watching this proved how much they’d held back. He’d been a god, but Rilenna was a god-slayer.   

But now their hands were gentle, probing him for new wounds. Their voice rose with worry. "Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you? Voryn, look at me, talk to me… please." 

He looked up blearily at mention of his name, and beheld a vision that took his breath. Rilenna was splashed with blood as red as their hair; as red as their eyes that still held a feral wildness in them. And that wildness made his heart skip a beat. 

"Voryn?" They asked again softly, pushing back the hair that had fallen into his face. No one had had concern and compassion for him since Neht. Not until this hero, who'd fought him, destroyed everything he'd worked for, and then saved him. 

"I'm… I'm alright." He rasped, throat so suddenly dry he could barely talk. 

"Good. Here, drink this healing draught. I think you could use it." 

They pressed it into his hands and he drank. The warmth of it paled in comparison to the warmth that spread through him as Rilenna wrapped gentle arms around him. 

"I'm so glad you're okay. I saw that one guy kick you and…" They swallowed hard, then continued lightly, "I did a lot of work to keep you from dying once already. I don't wanna do that again. Why don't we move upriver a little? I don't want this to ruin our day. And you could use the fresh air." 

They moved along until they rounded a corner and the bodies were out of sight. Rilenna washed the blood off themselves and spread out their ground blanket for them to sit on. They brought out some snacks and wine and they ate together. The sun was warm and the water cool, and it was just nice. Nicer than either of them could have asked for.  

Later, the two of them argued playfully as they tried to fish with little success. 

"Maybe pull the line a little more?" he suggested, before joking, “I thought you knew how to do this!” 

"No, I'm from the city!" Rilenna cried with mock indignation.  

"A city on a lake!" 

"You think they'd let riff raff like me near the fancy lake estates? Ha! And the parts of the docks that weren’t so nice was no place for a Dunmer kid if you wanted to stay alive. You didn’t fish as a fancy nobleman?”

“I was busy with other things as well!”  

They both laughed, splashing around like kids. Eventually they retired back to the blanket, drinking a little more wine. Voryn was tired now, but by the Ancestors this had been fun.  

He put a hand on Rilenna’s shoulder, though it drifted a little and settled between their shoulder blades. “Thank you. This was a lovely idea.”

“Hey, no problem! We should do this more often, yeah?”

“I’d like that.” 

Sitting like this and enjoying the day, Voryn realized that perhaps he had a little bit of devotion left in him yet. He’d just needed to be shown the right person to give it to. Perhaps it was the last person most would expect; Rilenna was after all the hero who’d been prophesied to be his enemy and defeat him. But they’d also saved him, and the more time they spent together, he knew that it could be no one else. Rilenna was not Nerevar (or even him returned);  they were instead their own gloriously unique person. And though he hadn’t thought it possible, they’d stolen his heart. No, he corrected himself as he met Rilenna’s smile, Not stolen. I give it freely. 

“Watcha thinking?” Rilenna asked, nudging him a little. 

“Just about how fortunate I am.”

Their smile softened, and they leaned their shoulder into his. “That makes two of us.”             

[yewphoric]

wonderful nothing by glass animals is a nerevoryn song. to me. send post

honestly both nerevoryn and dagoth ur x nerevarine. to me

[the-elder-polls]

yes hello I heard that we're tossing out character lore so have a ton of info about my Nerevarine c: - Mute from birth, uses DSL (Dunmeri Sign Language) to communicate - Hates pretty much everyone who dragged her into the Nerevarine Prophecy (she does slightly cool off toward Vivec though not by much) - Got banned from interacting with House Hlaalu after Dagoth Ur died (three guesses as to what she did) - Straight up ignored all the goings on in Solstheim (in reality I really do not like the Bloodmoon DLC lmao) - Shacked up with Martin Septim (Nerevarine x Martin is such a slept on ship and I love it so much) - Ended up getting pregnant with the Last Dragonborn (who is also a sort of reincarnation of Sotha Sil lol) - Sorta kinda prays to Sheogorath cause that was once her friend? - Will depopulate Windhelm of Stormcloaks if given ample provocation

oh she sounds FASCINATING. and valid. prone to questionable decisions, yes, but valid. an icon for us all

[falmerbrook]

People have probably asked you this before but what is your personal interpretation of The Battle of Red Mountain? Personally, I love the idea of Dagoth being tempted by the heart despite him being the one guy to urge the tools not be used. (Nerevar too to an extent but he’s bad at making decisions)

I just love my tragic six council.

*rubbing my hands together* This is the perfect question for me! I have already given this much thought because I too love drama. So you're getting a bit of an essay; I hope you are ok with that :D. Skip down a bit if you just want just my thoughts on my interpretation, but I'm gonna start by laying out the options and my thoughts on some of the different interpretations first.

So first of all, I don't think there is a canon for it. Both in the sense that I don't think Bethesada or the Morrowind team actually have a solid canon idea of what went down, and that I don't think any one retelling has overwhelming evidence that blows the others out of the water completely (although some have more merit to me than others).

The other strong opinion I have is that I dislike the Dragon Break explanation (at least in the way I see most people present it). Despite Dragon Breaks being one of the more interesting pieces of lore (and one of my favorite watsonian explanations for an in-game thing ever), I think it is the most boring interpretation of the BoRM. I know there's some canon support for it, but it just doesn't speak to me. Like, if every version of the battle could have happened "simultaneously" because of a Dragon Break, then that means that there's a chance no one is lying because the version they tell is truly how they experienced it, even if someone else experienced something else. Where's the fun in that? We're here for tragedy and lies and drama.

So I sort of see there being 6 main versions of what happened that we've been given (with some details changed depending on the exact source): 1) the Ashlander version (descended from the account of Alandro Sul, 2) the Temple version, 3) the Nord version (from the Five Songs of King Wulfharth), 4) the version in the 36 Lessons of Vivec, 5) Vivec's version (as told to the Dissident Priests and the Nerevarine), and 6) Dagoth Ur's version.

The Ashlander version (x) (x) (x) has the Tribunal outside of the mountain fending off the Dwemer army while Nerevar and Voryn fought Dumac and Kagrenac in the Heart Chamber. These put Voryn (and presumably House Dagoth) on the side of the Chimer. Progress of Truth claims the Dwemer destroyed themselves, while Nerevar at Red Mountain claims Azura showed Nerevar how to "use the tools to separate the power of the Heart from the Dwemer people" (whatever that means) and turned them to dust. After that, Nerevar is kinda fucked up, so while Voryn urges him to destroy the tools, he tells Voryn to guard them while he get's the Tribunal's opinion. They're like "let's keep 'em" and he's like "actually never mind I want Azura's opinion" so they poison him, take the tools, and kill Voryn. This one is interesting because the Ashlander mythology and culture seems to be mostly based on oral tradition, so the versions we see of their accounts have been written by scholarly outsiders (obscuring the truth even further). Additionally, they claim this version was passed down from the the account of Alandro Sul, but that leaves a lot of time for this version of the story to change and morph. These are probably, like, 30th level accounts of what happened.

The official Temple version (x) (x) (x) (x) (x) claims Nerevar was martyred in the BoRM, dying of his injuries, and puts House Dagoth and Voryn on the side of the Dwemer. Most of these claim Nerevar killed Dumac and then died from his own injuries (Saint Nerevar specifically claims these were injuries inflicted by Voryn), but don't specify what happened to Voryn or what was going on with the Tribunal during the battle. This version is much more vague about pretty much everything than the Ashlander or Vivec versions. The thing to note with these sources is they are either obviously biased propaganda from the Tribunal Temple or are drawing from obviously biased propaganda from the Tribunal Temple.

The Nord version (x) is way different from the others and for that reason I kinda ignore it to be honest. So in this version (as far as I can tell?) after the War of the First Council kicks up, Voryn drags the Nords into it by telling them he knew where the Heart of Shor (Lorkhan) was. This version seems to put the Nords and House Daogth (including Voryn) on one side and the Chimer and Dwemer on the other. Nerevar and Dumac are still buddies here and fight Voryn and Wulfharth in the Heart Chamber. Voryn kills Dumac. Nerevar kills Voryn. Lorkhan kills Nerevar. Nerevar kills Lorkhan. Alandro Sul is blind now. Vivec might be there.

The 36 Lessons of Vivec version (x) is also one I kinda ignore in terms of what happened during the BoRM since it too is essentially propaganda and largely lies (also I have a hard time understanding it). From my understanding, Vivec puts the Dwemer and Nords against the Chimer. There's sort of an overall placing of the "Sharmat" against the Chimer/Nerevar as well, but no explicit mention of what Voryn or House Dagoth is doing. The Tribunal destroy the Dwemer and "remove them from the world", while Nerever "went too far inside [Red Mountain], seeking the Sharmat [Voryn]" as it exploded. I guess that's how Nerevar dies? Of course, there is also that infamous secret message in the lessons: "He was not born a god. His destiny did not lead him to this crime. He chose this path of his own free will. He stole the godhood and murdered the Hortator. Vivec wrote this."

Vivec's version to the Dissident Priests (x) is probably the most detailed, and one of two that are first hand accounts. In this version, he claims that during the battle Nerevar and Voryn went into the Heart Chamber and fought Dumac and Co., where Nerevar killed him. Kagrenac did something with the Heart and *poof* all of the Dwemer are gone. Voryn tells Nerevar they should destroy the tools, but Nerevar wants to get the Tribunal's opinion. They tell him to keep them, and he agreed under the condition that "the tools would never be used in the profane manner that the Dwemer had intended". Nerevar and the Tribunal go to get the tools from Voryn, but he refuses to give them up, so the gang fights him, gets the tools back, and Voryn escapes. The Tribunal keep their oath for years (Nerevar nebulously stops existing during this time) before using them and pissing off Azura.

Daogth Ur's version (x), claims that he loyally served Nerevar until the end, and Nerevar betrayed him by killing him after telling to him to guard the tools. "Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend. It was a cruel blow, a bitter betrayal, to be felled by your hand." What a wordsmith!

The one depiction we have of Nerevar's murder is a sketch Kirkbride did for Morrowind's 10th anniversary and it doesn't match a single one of the other versions we have, but because it's visual (and dramatic) it is burned into the fandom zeitgeist so it's worth mentioning.

So none of these line up completely, but there is some significant overlap between a few.

Interestingly, the Ashlander version of the build up to the War of the First Council and the events of the battle itself up until Nerevar goes to chat with the Tribunal is pretty much the same (with the exception of how the Dwemer disappeared) as Vivec's account to the Dissident Priests. Where they differ is in what happened to the Dwemer, Voryn, and Nerevar. To me that makes that sequence of events the most likely of all of the options from a "which is most likely canon" perspective, and the differences between the two come down to bias, with the Alandro Sul and the Ashlanders trying to bolster Nerevar's accomplishments and portray the Tribunal poorly, and Vivec trying to dissuade any suspicion that he killed Nerevar.

Also interestingly, Dagoth Ur's account matches Vivec's pretty closely, with Vivec claiming Nerevar (and the Tribunal) had to fight Voryn to get the tools back, and Dagoth Ur claiming Nerevar killed him (presumably to get the tools back), despite their completely opposing biases. That's gotta mean something. I'm not sure Voryn ever actually says the Tribunal murdered Nerevar now that I'm thinking about it (please correct me if I'm wrong), rather just implies they betrayed him (which could of course include murder though). Meanwhile, Vivec's secret message in the 36 Lessons is basically a murder confession.

This is so messy (in the best way).

SKIP HERE FOR JUST MY THOUGHTS!

So which one do I like? It depends. Like I've said before, I'm here for interpersonal tragedy among Nerevar and Co., so the version I prefer depends on what part of the tragedy you want to focus on. If I want an interpretation of the story that focuses mostly on Nerevar and the Tribunal's relationship, the Ashlander version where they murder him is the most juicy. But a version where he dies from his fight with Voryn, and the Tribunal watch him die, might be the most tragic. If I want the focus on Nerevar and Voryn's messiness, then perhaps his version where Nerevar kills him is the best fit. If I want a focus on Nerevar and Dumac, perhaps Nerevar dies from those wounds. One of my favorite things about Morrowind is that there is no right interpretation, so you can mix and match for the circumstances of what kind of story you want to tell! You don't even have to be consistent. So much angst potential! So much fun to be had!

If I had to create a best ""canon"" interpretation though based on all of those versions I just detailed, it would be this: Following the Ashlanders' and Vivec's account of the build up to the battle, with the Dwemer (and Nords and Orcs are there too I guess idc) on one side and all of the Chimer houses and tribes on the other, Nerevar, Voryn, and Alandro Sul (among others) end up in the Heart Chamber while the Tribunal lead the charge against the bulk of the Dwemer army outside of the mountain. During the fight in the Heart Chamber, Nerevar and Dumac fight one-on-one, ending with Nerevar very injured, but having killed Dumac (it's tragic and emotional. Poor Nerevar). With Dumac's death, the direction of the battle turns to Kagrenac, who is messing with the tools and the Heart. Knowing everything is about to close in on him, Kagrenac does... something... to the Heart and the Dwemer all disappear (I personally like to think it was a lot less planned and perfected than most like to think. It was a panic move). His tools are left behind, and Voryn gets them and tells Nerevar they should destroy them, considering what they just saw and what he knows personally of Kagrenac. Nerevar is pretty delirious and distressed, and doesn't trust himself enough to make the decision. Knowing he hadn't trusted the Tribunal as much as he should have about the Dwemer leading up to this point, he decides it would be best to get their input. He tells Voryn to stay with the tools, and while Voryn is hesitant to be there alone (that could be because he is nervous to be in the presence of the Heart with the tools, or because he doesn't want Nerevar alone with the Tribunal or getting their advice), Nerevar trusts him fully. He is helped out of the mountain and to the Tribunal, who are dealing with the aftermath of the Dwemer disappearing. Note that at this point in their lives, they are annoyed and frustrated with his leadership, and don't trust his decision making too much. They urge him to keep the tools, and he is not thrilled about it, but relents because he is tired. They all rest a few hours, and then go back into Red Mountain to get Voryn and the tools. There, for whatever reason, Voryn won't give them back (I'll get back to why in a minute), and things escalate very quickly, with the situation ending with Nerevar having killed him. Nerevar, now having killed two of his closest friends over this, changes his mind and decides against using the tools, making the Tribunal swear an oath to never use them, period. They aren't thrilled about this, and their animosity towards Nerevar just grows. They either bide their time and wait for Nerevar to die, or kill him themselves sometime after this, after which they use the tools and piss off Azura.

So back to the topic of Voryn, your point about him is interesting. I feel like there's so many ways to interpret him in this situation and how exactly he was invovled. How did he find out about what the Dwemer (or at least Kagrenac) were doing? What side was he on during the war? Was House Dagoth on his side? Did he mess with the tools when he was left alone with them? If he did, why?

Knowing he was probably closer with Dumac and Kagrenac (whether that be personally and/or politically) than most other Chimer, that could explain how he knew about the heart. I've had a thought in the past that perhaps one of them straight up showed him the Heart and the Numidium, which spurred him to warn Nerevar about it. What if that exposure to it fucked with his head a little, like radiation? Afterwards, he could always feels it's pull and beating, and it only got stronger when he got closer to the mountain. It's like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. My thought was perhaps that was the reason why 1) he is hesitant to watch the tools (and be alone with the Heart), 2) wanted the tools destroyed, knowing first hand how maddeningly powerful the Heart is, and 3) he gave in and messed with the Heart when left alone. There is a delightful irony to him being the first of the Chimer to use the tools despite being the one to most strongly urge not to.

On the other hand, it is from Vivec's account to the Dissident Priests that we get the idea that he had messed with the tools when left alone with them, and of course Vivec has reason to portray Dagoth Ur as insane and unreasonable and corrupted by the Heart to the priests. Perhaps though, Voryn had been faithful and hadn't done anything with them, and was instead unwilling to give the tools to Nerevar because he didn't want them in the hands of the Tribunal, who he believed wouldn't be so noble. Vivec only depicts this as an irrational and power hungry move as projection. On that note, I wish we could've gotten Almalexia and Sotha Sil's account of what happened. I'm sure they'd be just as dubious as Vivec's, but they would've been fun to analyze.

One last thing, I've always been curious about House Dagoth's involvement in the War of the First Council. While the Temple puts them on the side of the Dwemer, it's pretty safe to say this is a form of propaganda to make them look bad after their house was disbanded and essentially erased from history. Other sources give little mention of House Dagoth, but mention their leader, Voryn, as serving under Nerevar, so it's likely the house was on his side as well. I have had the curious idea before though that perhaps House Dagoth, having been more closely aligned and politically/culturally similar to the Dwemer compared to the other houses, had a fracturing caused by the war, with some following Voryn's leadership on the side of the Chimer, and others following the Dwemer. This could explain the conflicting accounts of whose side they were on (ignoring the propaganda angle). But that's more AU than a headcanon.

Anyway, TLDR: it depends! There is no one account that is particularly more canon than others (although i think some are more reliable than others). Different scenarios maximize different drama for different characters, so my interpretation depends on what you want to get out of depicting that battle!

Oh my god I am so sorry this is so long. I'm sure you didn't want this much, but I just have so many thoughts and I figured his would be a good opportunity to vomit them all into the world. If anyone actually read this whole thing, I appreciate you greatly!!

[thana-topsy]

40. Nerevar X Voryn! Tear my heart right out!

(also maybe 32. Nerevarine X Dagoth for super tragic mirroring?)

Alright, I'm sorry, I had to go with Nerevarine x Dagoth Ur because.... horror writing. Fucked Up Dreams. Yessss Gooood. Hope you ... enjoy? CW: disturbing imagery -- on par with the usual Morrowind dream sequences, but slightly hornier.

---

Nerevarine x Dagoth Ur "A kiss to wake up." (457 words)

The dreams begin as they always do: a tall, dark figure wearing a golden mask beckons you forward.

He is speaking to you, his voice pleasant and deep, tickling the center of your chest where your own heart pounds like a drum. He speaks in a language that is long dead to you, yet you feel the meaning behind his words take root, like the familiar ache of an old injury poorly healed.

He takes you by the hand, his long fingers cool to the touch, tipped red—with blood or paint, you cannot tell—and leads you through a barren wasteland. The buildings around you stand like empty crypts, their denizens risen from ash and bone to stare as you pass. Their gaping mouths locked in silent screams, jaws hanging crooked, eyeless sockets watching.

The ground is hot beneath your feet. He wraps your arm around his like you are wedded. The air is filled with smoke, the horizon hazy and red-rimmed. It burns your lungs, scraping like tiny claws. 

“There are many rooms in the house of the Master,” says the figure. “Be still in your trembling, for from the hands of your enemies I have delivered you.”

A mountain looms before you, impossibly large, and the ground begins to tilt as you walk. As you ascend the mountain he is no longer at your side. The ground curves upwards ahead of you, a sheer cliff face. You climb, digging your hands into the dirt and rock, your fingernails tearing, the fear of death thrumming through your veins. The ground rumbles beneath you, alive. 

Tha-thump—tha-thump 

You lose your grip and your stomach lurches as you fall backwards, but you are caught. Long arms, longer fingers, circling your chest, climbing the front of your neck to hold you by your throat. 

“Look,” he says into your ear. “Look upon the Heart.” 

You close your eyes, squeezing them shut. Spiraling fractals and distorted faces dance through the blackness.

“Look,” he insists. 

He is in front of you now, your face in his hands. “Look upon your Lord.” 

You open your eyes. 

Too many teeth. Too many eyes. Pulsing terror as primal as an Ashlander’s war drum.   

Tha-thump—tha-thump 

You open your mouth to scream and he brings his face to yours. His kiss sears like lava, thick as tar, foul and bitter, pushing into your mouth. And you swallow him. He slides into your gut and you feel him inside you, moving, pulsing in and out. 

Tha-thump—tha-thump 

It is ecstasy and terror and you cannot breathe, deep pleasure striking like lightning, crashing and thundering, swelling into a cacophonous symphony of agonized wails inside your head.

You awaken screaming, heat and slickness between your legs and dread in your heart. 

[dxwnfxll]

Wanted to make something wholesome so I drew my Dragonborn meeting her ancestors (sotha sil is not related to her)

Grandparents (Hok and Martin)

Sadine (future adopted sister)

Extremely great grandma (Nepelle)

Great grandpa (Kanis)

Bonus her adopted parents (Zenore the altmer and Sullyn)

[aladaylessecondblog]

Whore AU - Letter

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53198734/chapters/166225483

The next month or so was almost idyllic for Sadara compared to before, save for the blight storms she had to move through and lack of outsiders.

But she seemed to have a place here. The ash creatures were welcoming, and as for the Dagoth brothers--

They who had only had a chance at contact of any kind once per year could now expect an entire day's worth several times a month, and they were taking full advantage of it. The first time she returned to each of them they were...fervent, to say the least.

Vemyn had had her go about her day as if she lived at Vemynal and took her six or seven times over the period from the midday meal until late in the evening. Araynys had made half the day mocking her for selling herself out - and then spent the rest of it in aftercare and ensuring she felt like a treasure...

Despite his taste in sex he always made it worth it, in the end, as did Uthol and Voryn and all the rest.

Evil, the Temple had called them. Perhaps she had fallen under some spell - but the vast improvement in her life spoke for itself. Let them say what they would of her, she could content herself with all she'd gained.

It delighted the brothers to have someone to dedicate the day to their pleasure, however they wished to express it, and it delighted her to only have to cater to eight men instead of many.

Her trip to Kogoruhn, she'd looked forward to for some time, although she would have to do it with a number of little bruises on her neck and thighs that Voryn had left. Gilvoth joked that despite agreeing to share her he was likely doing it to show the rest of them proof that HE had been there.

"Lord Dagoth likes to mark what is his," he'd said on seeing them, "I suppose that was the result of seeing the tattoo?"

"He hasn't even seen it yet, or if he has he hasn't spoken about it." Sadara gave a slight laugh. "That's the funny part. He's just...eager to mark me, I suppose."

An understatement. The marks on her neck were surrounded by fading ones Voryn had left the second night she'd spent beside him. He'd been completely incomprehensible at the point it was nearly over, holding her and growling that she was his, his, and not being satisfied until she agreed.

It should have frightened her.

It didn't.

Perhaps it was the bit of Nerevar in her that felt safer nowhere else but there, swelled by the inklings of memory that appeared more and more the longer she stayed there at Dagoth Ur (the building). Perhaps it was just the pleasure of security.

"Tell me when you intend to show it to him, so that I may be sure to be as far away as possible."

She'd laughed and agreed with him.

The trip to Kogoruhn was only slightly unpleasant, and after getting a promise extracted to indulge Uthol afterwards, met with the smugglers that had been sent.

A few bolts of silk in varying colors (although the red one was her first choice), some more normal fabrics...and the jewelry. She'd always had an attraction to moonstone, and there were a few bits of jewelry she was pleased to be able to get. After that and a few crates of food she found one of the smugglers approaching her with a letter.

Stamped with the seal of the Tribunal Temple.

"They paid a lot to get this here."

"Huh..."

Sadara thanked the man, and as the smugglers were leaving opened and read it.

To Sadara,

I can only presume that the Dagoths are not allowing you to leave. Whatever suffering now endures can be terminated--

She heard footsteps, and looked up to see Uthol approaching.

"The Temple sent me a letter," she said, gesturing with it--figuring he'd want to see it.

"Is that so?"

She looked back to it.

Your case of corprus will only make you more vulnerable to their suggestions, and their torments. We will be able to devise a plan to retrieve you, but you must remain strong in the meantime. Your life may depend on it. Pray, and the blessed Three will preserve you.

The rest of it was along the same lines, and she burned it on the nearest torch.

"If I was going to listen to the temple, I would be a priestess and not what I am now," Sadara said. "Now...where will you have me?"

[ridreamir]

Not one but three mer who will hide their faces and you will never know what expression they are making but simultaneously all three are dead in hate (love) with you.

The helmet/mask stays on during (insert activity here)!

Imagine parading around THE Dagoth Ur because he's somehow managed to slip from the realm of Lorkhan even without the physical manifestation of the heart because he has always been so clever and so loyal and there ain't no way he wouldn't be haunting you even if he has technically violated a LOT of human/mer rights,,

Nebarra and Teldryn Sero on the sidelines, not entrely certain what to make of mr. dead man who wants the world to burn giving you longing glances from afar,

They probably all want to kill each other tbh but Nebarra and Teldryn Sero could definitely form a truce because Dagoth Ur (Voryn, you for some reason call him) is an ancient old evil sorcerer guy and should very much be dead still.

I'm not opposed to the idea of the timeline being super fucked up so one or more of them is actually the reincarnation of the other or an aspect of the same original soul somehow.

To be continued??

Timeline /Dragon break AU

Finding out that you, the last Dragonborn, are the Nerevarine once again reborn after coming to Solstheim and accidentally awakening yet another ancient evil:

Dagoth Ur: I made you, and you made me. Nebarra and Teldryn Sero, replacement mer of your original bitch tribunal: Bro why'd you make that guy?!?! You,(human?), not having any clue what's happening: I didn't!!! He's talking stupid!!!

And you had three Elven lovers (and haters), your honor. (I will write more of this AU LMAO) Do we get some Mannimarco in there as well

[whitegoldtower]

I think one of the most devastating parts of my Nerevarine’s story is this;

He was a humble farmer who daydreamed about something more, who wanted so desperately to know the source of his yearning, this black haired lover, this dream…

But the actuality of it wasn’t what he wanted. He was forced into this pre-written destiny which ended in him contracting corprus and slowly going mad before dying alone, and it would have been kinder to keep him as that lowly daydreaming farmer. To have him not even meet his soulmate in the first place.

And the true weight of his emotions get lost to time. Finding his skeleton and his journal is like finding the lovers in Pompeii; what were the last things they said to one another? We’ll never know. It’s like seeing a star, knowing that it exploded long ago and you’re only seeing the after image.

But reviving his song? Hearing it sung and loved and revived in taverns and the bard’s college?

Balaarys and Voryn Dagoth do get their happily ever after, in this sense; it just happens years and years after their deaths. We get a taste of what he felt through the way his song is sung.

That’s true immortality. They may be dead, but their love lives on through a sad little ditty hummed by a farmer on Solstheim.

Balaarys’ whole story is basically why gods shouldn’t be allowed to meddle in mortal lives, how a pre-written destiny can fuck someone up, and why music is such a clandestine human experience; it doesn’t matter when the song was written: music can still evoke emotion in any era and gives weight to context.

Balaarys Marethi dreamt of the sun and sky but he was forced to be Icarus.

To fly, for him, was a wondrous experience. He got to touch the sun, but he never was told that he was meant to fall. And when he did inevitably fall, it was written into his story by someone else. It was expected, and unavoidable.

That emaciated, frail dunmer at the end, dying in the tundra, sobbing over his journal and scribbling madly, ravaged by corprus, would never have chosen this if he knew this was to be his fate.

He was written to hit the ground. Brutally.

“I do not have wings, love, I never will,

Soaring over a world you are carrying.

If these heights should bring my fall,

Let me be your own Icarian carrion.

If the wind turns, if I hit a squall;

Allow the ground to find its brutal way to me.

If I should fall on that day,

I only pray,

Don’t fall away from me.”

✨

^^ The original tune Balaarys sings

^^ The sapphic version Panteia Atea sings in the Winking Skeever posthumously

^^ The song Veloth Sadri wrote about Balaarys

[theropoda]

nerevarine x dagoth ur this and that. we should consider nerevarine x azura. Why can't she also be a sexy night time visitor. Come on