#Dremora Merchant

[ciceroandlucien]

"I do so love dealing with mortals..."

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

’Mudcrab merchant’ this, ‘M’aiq the liar’ that, where’s my love for the real MVP minor character of Morrowind, Krazzt, the dremora working the high fantasy equivalent of a terrible terrible tourist job he can’t leave

[bretongirlwrites]

from the worldbuilding prompts - #30 for Julianne?

30. Dubious at-home cures for mild ailments

(or: why shepherd's pie has the cure disease attribute)

‘O damnation,’ said I, ‘o damnable, damnable thing! – I have got a cold.’

I must have got it in the before-times: since damnable and inconvenient the plains of Oblivion had been, I could not recall any daedra sneezing on me; the same however, could not be said of the mages, who’d come in droves from the snow into the Guild-hall. I should sooner have a thousand sneezing mages than a single moment in the Deadlands: but waking up after the latter fact, with one’s throat dryer than in the fires of Oblivion, and one’s nose running fit to flee some dremora, – it is the last straw.

‘I ought not to complain,’ said I looking at Corinne and Martin quite piteously: ‘I shall survive at least.’

‘Oh!’ said Corinne: ‘both you and Martin know a good deal of healing-magics, –’

‘Would it surprise you to learn, my dear Corinne,’ said I, ‘that try as we might, – and it’s our collective headache,’ my head pounding a little with the effort of it, ‘– no mage nor alchemist nor healer has ever managed to cure the common cold?’

Martin, who had been building our fire, looked at me with such astonishment, that I wondered at his ignorance of it: considered that people had surely come to him with the most terrible of diseases and afflictions and ailments, – but never thought, in the grip of such a pathetic malady as this, to go to a priest. Corinne, likewise baffled, could only pity me; and from some deep devoted place in her Blades armour, offer me her handkerchief. 

‘And especially not,’ said I, ‘in the middle of absolute nowhere. – Damn it all. – What do we still have in rations?

‘There used to be,’ I persisted, while Corinne was fetching the bags, ‘a woman of questionable skill in the City, who purporting to be a healer, sold her cure-alls at such remarkable prices, that the Society for Concerned Merchants was overwhelmed by the real alchemists; and the University investigated. – What on this beloved planet is this?’

‘Dried mutton,’ said Corinne, ‘I think.’

‘It turned out,’ I went on, ‘that this woman, unable to afford and maintain the proper equipment, did a sort of rudimentary alchemy in her marmite. In essence she was making soup. The remarkable thing is that, – though it did not cure anything, – her soup actually worked for certain reliefs. A sort of advanced wortcraft. – I presume this is a potato?’

The thing was so grubby, that even after washing it, I still feared to mistake it for a boulder, and lose it. Corinne however, who had got the water up to the boil, encouraged me to do whatever it was I was doing; and Martin, who was too tired to do anything but watch, awaited with a smile, the continuation of the story.

‘She held this against us,’ said I, ‘and the case stood. It’s the City… after all. She was allowed to continue practising, so long as she did not use the word potion. Such a word implies proper alchemy, and you know how it is… it did not much matter anyway. The last I heard of her, she’d gone over to Skyrim. Apparently they are fond of soup over there; and not so much of potions, – o my voice is going, –’

It had not been much of a dawn, – what with my cold; and the fog; and the memory of tribulations past: but when the water was bubbling, and our thoughts were all turned to sustenance, we may stretch our legs a little, and yawning, smile round at each other; no voices necessary. I almost forgot all else, in my memory of the story, the City which lay faint on the horizon: and when my experiment was ready, said only, and with increasing frogs:

‘I admired her. I really did. There’s a sort of expectation on us, to do things properly. Her things did not work as well as ours did: but they worked, they damn well worked. I haven’t often imitated her, until, – called by necessity, –’

Whereupon I, with a flourish and the nearest stick to a spoon I could find, poured out my creation into a bottle that Martin held out. 

‘There you have it,’ said I, ‘a potion, of fortify health, of restore fatigue: a soup-potion! I cannot cure a cold: but it will keep me going until Bruma, –’

‘It’s a shepherd’s pie,’ said Corinne at once voice rising: ‘a liquified shepherd’s pie. – A shepherd’s pie, in a bottle. – You could have made a damn shepherd’s pie.’

I fell silent halfway to drinking it. – Corinne looked at me. – I sheepish, looked away, at Martin. – And he though consternated, – and she though troubled, – and I though in the midst of the most inconvenient cold of my life, – raised a toast of pie-soup: and burst out laughing.

[sulphuricgrin]

TESfest 2024

Day 4:  THIEF  //  enamoured

Hermaeus Mora gives a mission to steal from Mephala’s champion

Characters: Lilliandra (Altmer OC), Hermaeus Mora, Dremora OC, mentions of other OCs

Warnings: brief mention of body parts

Word count: 1053

@tes-summer-fest

_________

It has been six years since she found a Black Book in the academy library, and since then Lilliandra has been so busy. She had found and joined the Sodality of the Eye cult, whose portal was hidden in Ondil in Auridon, and became one of their biggest patrons, funding them liberally. She acted as a merchant to the Ciphers within Apocrypha when she visited, where she spent almost half her time. 

When she wasn’t doing anything related to daedra worship, she was acting as the perfect socialite within Summerset society - she hated it. While she did enjoy the music she created and performed with thaumavocalism, she found it tedious as usual to charm those she had to socialise with. High society was vanity personified. They were vain and vacuous, arrogant and avaricious. She was a mere decoration to their lavish parties and found their conversations vapid and the majority of them illiberal. 

She found Apocrypha and the Sodality of the Eye freeing in some sense. Everyone was looking for knowledge, rarely the same subject between the many cultists and ciphers. Their motivations were generally all the same. You couldn’t charm or manipulate your way for information (usually), but had to pay for knowledge with knowledge or money. She also found ciphers the easiest way to get test subjects to research illusion-focused thaumavocalism on. They were willing to take part in experimentation that would be potentially frowned upon in Summerset, and all she had to do was trade with information or coin. And if someone got hurt or even died, well, it was a risk they should have understood and a price she was willing to pay.  

She knew even some dremora would take interest in watching her experiments. Herald Xyria finds Lilliandra interesting enough to talk to her regularly, which she finds surprising for a dremora. She doubts Xyria particularly respects her, but perhaps found her amusing enough.  And it’s Xyria who tells her that Hermaeus Mora wants to talk to her.

She had only interacted with him once, when she had been transported to Apocrypha through the Black Book. He had welcomed her, wondering if she was clever enough to find knowledge, and warned her of the peril. But she was clever, and cleared the gauntlet (with some struggle), finding a massive book at the end and getting a boon.

But now she stands before him again within Apocrypha. 

“I have watched your progress through my realm with growing interest. You are following in the footsteps of my first servant.” 

She’s bereft of breath, yet nearly vibrating with excitement. Years of worship and even sermons she herself has held in Auridon, and now she is picked to speak to the Daedric Prince. “How may I be of service?” She can only ask, knowing there must be something she can do, given that she now has his attention. 

“Mephala’s champion holds a book, a Tracts Perilous, that was stolen years ago from my domain. ‘The Enlightenment of the Soul’. It is time to return it back to its shelf. And only you, daughter of Mephala’s champion, can do so,” the void of tentacles and eyes speaks slowly, firmly. 

She isn’t given a question, but a mission. And he is correct that only she could do it. It takes little time for her to think about where it could be, for she once held that exact book when she was merely 15, without realising what it was. 

“I am your servant, my lord. I will bring it back,” she answers with confidence. 

It wasn’t technically the first time she had to steal back stolen books or artefacts, but it certainly was the first time she was doing anything related to her daedric worship within her family’s estate. So for the first day, she keeps her routine, but watches everyone’s habits. Whether the timing was intentional or a coincidence, her mother was out, meeting with the top officials in the Thalmor about secret intelligence. 

The next night she cloaks herself in an invisibility spell and goes to the entrance to her secret office. Getting her mother’s trust came hand in hand with being her mother’s favourite; therefore, she was the only one that even knew of the office. Detect Life tells her no one is near and she uses the spell her mother taught her two decades ago for the access. The stone wall seems to ripple before opening a portal to a dark and narrow hallway. As soon as she steps through, the portal closes and she’s forced to use a simple candlelight spell to walk through one, of many, secret passages in the estate. 

It takes little time before she enters the office and casts a stronger spell, flooding the room with light. And the first thing to greet her is her mother’s ebony idol to Mephala, as if it were mocking her. Feeling watched, she hastens her actions, with long strides to the locked cabinet of her mother’s curiosities. 

She had worried her mother had changed the locking and unlocking spell she specifically used, but it was for naught. Because of her mother’s trust and her arrogance, it would be her mother’s failure to not rotate her locking spells that helped Lilliandra in the end.

As soon as she opens the cabinet, as always, she can’t help but stare back at the collection of preserved eyeballs; the feeling of being watched in this room ever heightened. Ignoring the rest of the odd curiosities, she finds the book with ease. It was a plain, dark hide covered tome. Temptation grips her to open it again, like she did 12 years ago. Tempting a peak, a cacophony of voices assault her mind before she snaps it shut. Tome tucked under her arm, she locks the cabinet again. Realising she’s done it, her heart thumps against her chest, blood pumping at her victory. She knew her mother would likely figure out she was at fault for the book’s disappearance, but what was she going to do, kill her over a book?

And just like that, she opens a portal to Apocrypha and leaves, ready to return the book to her Lord. What would she be given in return?

What she hadn’t expected was that she would be given the highest honour of becoming champion. 

[captain29thegamer]

Let’s have an open discussion post about Hermeus Mora (Herma Mora), and his Black Books. Out of all of the Black Book quests which is your favorite? And which is your least favorite? What do you think of the Seekers when you’re in Apocrypha?

When you go into Epistolary Acumen you have three choices of powers that you can obtain (just like with every Black Book). The first is, Dragonborn Force. When you use your Unrelenting Force shout, it causes more damage and has the chance to disintegrate your opponent. The second is, Dragonborn Flame. When you use your Fire Breath shout and your opponent dies, a fire wyrm appears and will fight for you for 60 seconds. The third is, Dragonborn Frost. When you use your Frost Breath shout it encases your opponent in ice. Which of these do you typically choose?

When you go into Filament and Filigree, you get the choice of a new additional power you can obtain. Secret of Arcana causes your Magicka not to drain for 30 seconds. Secret of Protection causes damage halved from all physical attacks and most magical attacks for 30 seconds. Secret of strength causes your stamina not to drain for 30 seconds. Which would you choose?

In the Hidden Twilight you get three more choices. Mora’s Agony summons a field of writhing tentacles that poisons foes. Mora's Boon completely replenishes Health, Stamina and Magicka. Mora's Grasp freezes the target between Oblivion and Tamriel for 30 seconds, making them immune to all damage. Which OP power would you choose?

The Sallow Regent introduces skill buffs. Seeker of Might causes 10% more effective combat skills, 10% improved Smithing. Seeker of Shadows causes 10% more effective stealth abilities, 10% improved Alchemy. Seeker of Sorcery causes 10% reduction in cost of all spells, 10% improved Enchanting. Which buff set sounds most appealing to you?

The Winds of Change will throw you off with the diversity of choice you have this time around. Companion's Insight: Your attacks, shouts, and destruction spells do no damage to followers.

Lover's Insight: +10% damage to and 10% better prices from people of the opposite sex.

Scholar's Insight: Reading skill books provides 2 level increases for the skill.

Untold Legends has some awesome perks that you can choose from when choosing your power. Bardic Knowledge: A spectral drum that plays for 300 seconds replenishing stamina recovery. Black Market: A Dremora merchant spawns for 15 seconds. Secret Servant: A Dremora butler spawns for 15 seconds, total carrying capacity 148 points.

And last but not least, we have Waking Dreams, which does not offer any choices. It’s found in the Temple of Miraak during the main quest line. This Black Book allows you to reset a skill tree and refund spent perk points at the cost of a dragon soul. Which skill tree would you reset? And is it worth the dragon soul, when you can just Legendary your skill tree?

[1000fiction]

Kinktober Masterlist.

Nothing but Spicy content ahead. Minors DNI.

Kinktober 2019:

Day 12: Cockwarming. Ft. Farkas

Day 11: Electricity. Ft. Estormo

Day 10: Frottage. Ft. Brynjolf

Day 9: Daddy Kink. Ft. Galmar Stone-Fist

Day 8: Menstrual Sex. Ft. Cicero

Day 7: Spit-Roasting. Ft. Vipir the Fleet, Niruin

Day 6: Domesticity Kink. Ft. Balimund

Day 5: Monster Fucking. Ft. Dremora Merchant

Day 4: Sixty-Nine. Ft. Stenvar

Day 3: Phallic Gags. Ft. Indaryn

Day 2: Pregnancy. Ft. Miraak

Day 1: Glory Hole. Ft. The Thalmor

Kinktober 2018:

Day 30: Breast Worship. Ft. Niruin

Day 29: Sleepy sex. Ft. Vilkas

Day 28: Humiliation. Ft. Lord Harkon

Day 27: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism. Ft. Sanguine

Day 26: Roleplay. Ft. Sinding

Day 25: Olfactophila. Ft. Farkas

Day 24: Shower/bath. Ft. Neloth

Day 23: Size difference. Ft. Tsun

Day 22: Impact play. Ft. Ondolemar

Day 21: Suspension. Ft. Ulundil

Day 20: Dirty talk. Ft. Sibbi Blackbriar

Day 19: Public. Ft. Enthir

Day 18: Role-reversal. Ft. Mercer Frey

Day 17: Orgasm Denial. Ft. Clavicus Vile

Day 16: Body worship. Ft. Cicero

Day 15: Uniform. Ft. Fasendil

Day 14: Tentacles. Ft. Miraak

Day 13: Gags. Ft. Teldryn Sero

Day 12: Rimming/Analingus. Ft. Erik the Slayer

Day 11: Tribadism/scissoring. Ft. Aela the Huntress

Day 10: Hairpulling. Ft. Marcurio

Day 9: Bondage. Ft. Mogrul

Day 8: Hate sex/Angry sex. Ft. Ulfric Stormcloak

Day 7: Praise Kink. Ft. Ronthil

Day 6: Biting. Ft. Serana

Day 5: Sadism/Masochism. Ft. Ancano

Day 4: Mirror Sex. Ft. Gelebor

Day 3: Knife play. Ft. Nazir

Day 2: Begging. Ft. Brynjolf

Day 1: Deep-throating. Ft. Ghorbash the Iron Hand

[babyblueetbaemonster]

Rescue --- Dawnguard DLC

Wow! This is the first time I recognized the name of my kidnapped friends! Cool! ... Wait, no, that's BAD!!!

The random Daedric Armor he sell actually has pretty good enchantments. I love them.

Umm... it just works?

[stephobrien]

After getting the Dremora Merchant, I noticed that, while he buys all kinds of mortal-produced goods, he only sells leveled armor and weapons. So most of the mortal stuff he buys enters his possession, but presumably never leaves.

What I’m saying is, somewhere in Oblivion, there’s this giant room full of assorted Nirn-made stuff, and a Dremora standing among it, singing in his best Little Mermaid voice,

“Look at this stuff Isn’t it neat? Wouldn’t you think my collection’s complete? Wouldn’t you think I’m the girl The girl who has everything?”

[hgsn-moved]

guys I think my dremora merchant is into me (he says I'm his favorite customer and that haggling with me is "entertaining"??) what do I do 😳

[catella-ars]

Rough races and classes for my OCs for the Oblivion AU.  These are being updated even as I post this so don’t pay too much attention lmao

Ricky Bosmer/Imperial Battlemage

Keid Dremora (Boethiah) Warrior

Bellona Argonian Mage

Clotho Dwemer + Altmer Construct Sphere/Centurion?

Marley Imperial Barbarian

Ziva Khajiit/Imperial Bartender

Felix Redguard Merchant

Ryder Redguard/Dunmer Athletics Trainer

Nyx Orc Rogue

Cato Khajiit Bard

Durga Orc Witchhunter

Lior Altmer Pilgrim

Sorrel Argonian Farmer/Merchant

Fen Bosmer Scout

Rasalas Dremora (Vaermina) Agent

Borealis Dremora (Azura) Healer

[talldarkandroguesome]

18th of Sun’s Height, Sundas

I have been able to return to the bulk of my duties as normal. The magicka suppression ring, having seemed to do its job, I am able to go around without worrying about things such as magickal attacks, Daedric or otherwise. It is rather handy, all things considered.

Of course, it does mean i have to be more considerate of my own actions, but I am learning to adapt.

I have also learned of the tenacity of Daedra. One might believe that a Daedra, unable to easily find and take its plaything with it, might soon grow bored and go to bother some other unsuspecting mortal.

Not so, however. She is persistent.

While all of Loredas I was free from her influence, it was near mid-afternoon today when I saw her face in the crowded streets near the Tribunal Temple. 

Of course my heart sank to see her.

Not that it was too great a surprise, given that she is all too aware of the city my home is located in.

She started at a distance. Just appearing between passersby for a moment.

Then she was behind the stalls in the market.

Then she was just passed the wheel of a carriage.

Every time she appeared, it was closer and closer, even as I moved throughout the city.

Knowing I was being tailed, I made sure not to go anywhere towards my own home. 

I knew she was going to make a move. She would have to. She was going to find a way. No matter what.

Eventually, as I was making my way towards the tavern, to enjoy a beverage with a business partner of uncle Urnel’s, I felt the warm breath of the Dremora on the back on my neck. I could feel her, even before I saw her glowing red eyes.

Then as soon as the mer was through the door in front of me, the hand reached out and grasped my shoulder.

I turned to see her grinning at me, those sharp claws sinking into the muscle of my shoulder.

And then in a flash, she was gone. Clearly she was trying to teleport me away somewhere and was able to teleport herself, but not me while I have on the ring.

The Three bless Plays-With-Fire and all his contacts in the Mages Guild.

I popped into the tavern and told the mer, that I had just been told of a family emergency and that I had to return home, but invited her for drinks in the evening to make up for my rudeness.

She nodded, clearly a bit surprised, but let me go.

I made my way down the back allies and to the outlaws refuge in the old crypts below the city. A place I knew she would not readily look for me.

I spent a good deal of time drinking and chatting with the many seedy members of the city’s underground. Generally enjoying, as best as I could, the time I had out of her influence.

When a long while had passed, I placed an order with one of the... (shall we call them merchants?) who makes their living in such a place. Then had myself placed into a shipping box with some hay and fabrics, and sent to the manor with a note in my hand telling the servants to accept it and open immediately after bringing inside of the gate.

Which, lucky for me, they did.

I got out, brushed the hay from my coat, and took the silk inside for the maid to make into whatever items of clothing she thought she and the other maids most needed. 

Then I went straight to Avon to share the experience.

He believes me quite fortunate, lucky indeed, to have gotten the ring when I did, for it seems that I would otherwise have been teleported somewhere far away.

We drained a couple bottles of Shein as we talked through things and by the end, we were a pile of sweaty limbs and crumpled, discarded clothing.

I cannot recall much of the latter part of the conversation, but Nabine got us back to the baths and then into bed and we had a good rest. I awoke now, in the middle of the night, but Avon still slumbers.

I must hope that this Dremora does not locate my family. Things would become far more dire then.

[primanoctis]

deleted scene from my active fanfic on A03; Larina learns the dark past about Markarth’s Justiciar from Aicantar. 

Corrilian of Skwatch’s past.... | The Flower of Markarth Fanfic

“Your past was just as traumatic as his Larina and yet you turned out the opposite, you couldn’t be cruel if you tried” Aicantar’s sighed with annoyance. 

Larina shook her head, “you keep telling me that he’s dangerous and that I should stay away, how we both share such as tragic past yet you won’t tell me anything at all. You both studied together didn’t you? You must have spent years together” echoing his own exasperation. Sitting beside the small Breton, Aicantar explained, 

“For a while we were friends yes, until he was expelled from the college” at his words Larina raised her eyebrows. If he had been removed from his studies before they were complete why did the Thalmor employ him? Sensing her confusion Aicantar began.

- 

“I suppose in a way you can blame his father for his adoption by the Thalmor. There’s a reason why the people of Skyrim assume all altmer look down upon them, people like Corrilian’s father believed in the inferiority of other races before the Thalmor came to power, and supported them wholly. My uncle told me after the Oblivion Crisis there were many who were skeptical of how involved they were in destroying the oblivion gates, but anyone who questions them were exiled, and killed. Many groups led purges against anyone they thought were unworthy in our society, supported fully by the Thalmor: many people did nothing incase they would be targeted next, some like Corrilian’s father were actively involved” the anger in Aicantar’s words was palpable. 

“But even by their standards his father’s position in society was somewhat looked down upon, and it was taken out on Corrilian at the college. His father, Kardyrian, rose to prominence in the Aldmeri Navy for his prowess and his cruelty. Something happened that forced him to step down, whether Corrilian knew what he never said and with his experience and power, Kardyrian became a ruthless merchant in Skywatch. The East Empire Company had to work with him in order to trade with Northern Summerset, he had obliterated his competitors. 

Knowing that he would need an heir to continue on his legacy, Kardyrian used his power and money to buy the hand of his mother, Irinwe. Their relationship never made sense to him, he said it wasn’t one built on love, clearly with only a monetary gain. She wasn’t a noblewoman either, apparently his father despised them at first, until he was forced to share his life with her. 

His mother wasn’t fond of those balls and those people, said his mother was much quieter and prefered to stay at home with him, much to his father’s ire. Anway, a few years after their marriage, Irinwe gave birth to her first son, surprisingly slow even by our standards --”

“Corrilian has never mentioned having a brother” Larina impulsively interrupted him. Aicantar raised an eyebrow and she silenced herself, allowing him to continue. 

--

“His brother Astirian was what my people call the hulkynd, broken children, children abandoned because of deformities or imperfections. These children are usually cast out by their families, but Irinwe convinced her husband to raise him, evidently his imperfections were not that bad. They raised him hoping that he would join the Aldmeri Navy until it was time for him to take over his father’s work.  But something happened, his father had been informed to his son being involved in some pretty shady stuff, most likely illegal. Corrilian never really explained what, but it was enough for their father to disown him and pretend he never existed. 

His father still wanted an heir of course and along he came. He said his mother was overly affectionate of him, perhaps to make up for the fact that his father kept his distance, whatever attention he gave him certainly wasn’t good. He never knew he had an older sibling”. 

--

As he paused for breath, Larina asked, “So how do you know all of this?” wondering what his involvement was.

For a moment Aicantar looked uncomfortable before responding, 

“When we first arrived at the college, there were a few days to settle in before the teaching began, with each one of us having to individually prove to the mages our skills. Most of the students interacted together but Corrilian remained on the sidelines, he was worse than he is now, silent and aloof. At the time I thought it was shyness, only to realise how bad his superiority complex was. After his test he came returned to our rooms smug that he had impressed the mages through fear. Most of us would cast simple spells that showed off our power, after all our magickal capabilities were not unquestionable, it was only harder for the very few non altermis students.

For his test Corrilian deliberately slit the throat of a goat he had brought from the village and reanimated it for a surprising amount of time, with sentience” necromancy, Larina shuddered at the prospect. She was aware that it was more openly performed amongst the mer but the dark magick scared her. 

“The other students were slightly afraid of him, some worried that he might summon a dremora lord to slaughter them in their sleep” Aicantar continued, rolling his eyes. “I found him interesting and asked him why he had been sent to the college, and he revealed he had been forced to attend by his family. 

[tesssaforsythia]

am playing morrowind and i sold some of the loot i had to some random merchant. For some reason she put some of the things on? Now shes just standing there in her regular ass dress and a dremoras helmet

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

A brief recounting of the events of Elder Scrolls Legends, and of the Forgotten Heroes that saved the Empire when no one else could.

The Argonian, The Myth, The Legend...

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT!

SMUGGLER, WAR HERO... AND THE MOST LOYAL OF FRIENDS.

Self-Proclaimed "Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel," Swims-At-Night was just a simple smuggler during the Great War, stealing his cargoes from the Thalmor controlled Cyrodill, traversing the treacherous seas to later sell it off to either the resistance in Hammerfell or the Thalmor themselves, to them at 5 times the original value and at half the quality, not really out of any patriotic duty as much as for the cold and shiny siren call of gold. A daring, dangerous life, that made him make contacts with all sorts of people, that however ill fitted his true calling.

For you see, for while he was indeed without equal in his smuggling and his ability with poisoned blades was without match... Swims-At-Night was a lore nerd at heart. Especially if he could turn a tidy profit from said lore nerding.

But let's keep things in order.

Everything in Swims-At-Night's life changed one fateful night, during that same Great War he was profiting from... When he met two figures.

One, was Tyr.

This Beefcake of a Nord was one of the few remaining blades, captured by the second in command of the Thalmor Warlord and Daedric Follower Lord Narafiin, and left to Rot and fight for his life in one of his dungeons/daedric lair/underground arenas, only to one day escape with the help of another... mysterious figure.

THE FORGOTTEN HERO! WAR CRIMINAL! BACKSTABBER! MASTER OF DISGUISE! GENERALLY GREEDY ASSHOLE! THE WORST OF FRIENDS! DID I MENTION BACKSTABBER, LIKE, SERIOUSLY, THIS FUCKER BACKSTABS A LOT.

Basically TESL Robbie Rotten. At least he hates Nazi elves tho.

Anyway, back to that one faithful night. Tyr and the Forgotten Hero, from here on TFH, had recently escaped their captivity, and were searching for a lift to reach Skyrim, so to warn the emperor, who had retreated there after the fall of the imperial city, of Narafiin’s Daedric Dealings, and also so they could scoop up a friend of Tyr along the way, so that she could shine a Light upon this mess.

So, in the middle of the night, in the middle of a Port patrolled by Thalmor Justiciars searching for both them and the Argonian’s stolen Cargo, Tyr and TFH decide to steal Swims-At-Night’s boat...

RIGHT. FROM. UNDER. HIS. GILLS.

Needless to say, it was friendship at first sight.

After discovering the 2 vagrants trying to steal his shit and a quick sword fight with the Forgotten Hero, the Trio is found by one of the aforementioned Thalmor Patrols, and therefore, seeing how they too were being hunted down by the Nazi Elves, he goes “what the hell, the enemy of my nazi enemy is my new best friend, let’s go guys, this trip is on me!”, scoops them up on his ship, and departs from the port toward northern shores.

They later shipwreck. Because dude might be the “Greatest Smuggler in Tamriel,” but I challenge you to steer a ship during one perfect storm with one bloodthirsty Breton pirate ship trying their best to board them and sink his ship at the same time. Not even (spoilers) Sails-Trough-Storms herself could do it, I say.

Anyway, they shipwreck, have some zany adventures in High Rock with some mudcrabs and some spriggans, find a wolf cub TFH might or might have not abandoned to his fate rather than take in and nurture as his new pet LIKE THE ASSHOLE HE IS, and finally, in the middle of a ancient ruin, surrounded by angry goblins who had just come in and killed the cultists that were trying to kill her...

She appears, in all her majestic might...

LAANETH! MISTRESS OF MAGIC! SCHOLAR AND RESEARCHER AMONG THE MOST PRESTIGIOUS COLLEGES AND MAGES GUILDS IN ALL OF TAMRIEL, AND EXPERT IN DAEDRIC ARTIFACTS AND LORE!

Anyway, they save Laaneth from a Goblin assault straight out of Goblin Slayer, and she informs them that her latest research was around a semi obscure prophecy called The Culling (II), a cautionary tale about how people shouldn’t standardize and destroy their Battle Royal Games for greed and get rich schemes, and about how, during a particular cosmological event, the veil between worlds will be weakened, and will be easily breached by anyone committing a sacrifice big enough (Like, for example, the entirety of the Imperial City Population) to reawaken the now forgotten Oblivion Gates, so that the maws of Oblivion will be able to be opened one last time, to unleash hell upon Nirn, so to hasten the deterioration of reality and the breaking of the world, thus destroying creation and possibly but most definitely not allowing the Thalmor to ascend to godhood in the ensuing chaos.

You know, standard Nazi Elves plans.

This is even more concerning of Lord Naarafiin simply having Dremoras and other Daedras in his armies, especially after it is revealed that some major entity, perhaps even a Prince, must be edging their bets on this thing happening, so they decide to quickly reach the Emperor’s Camp all together to give him the grave news, and see what to do next.

(If i may take a moment, I would like to point out how Swims-At-Night, his ship destroyed and his cargo now in the seas, without a single prospect of coin in sight, is still there, ready to fight and die for his newfound companions and freedom, because he might be a scoundrel and a Smuggler, but he is a Honest Smuggler goddammit, mass genocide and daedric outbreaks are a big no no for him.

He also probably already knitted some new best friends sweaters already for him and his bros and is already probably preparing one for his new nerd elven friend, and probably didn’t want them to go to waste, so there’s that).

Anyway, our heroes got to Skyrim. Some more shenanigans ensue, a bar fight, some imperial deserters, a High Elf Merchant that was trapped by giant spider and had NOTHING TO DO WITH THE THALMOR TFH might have just been plain old racist too and left for dead rather than help, the ghost of another merchant asking for revenge against some other, human bandits that killed him and his family for their gold, and all that...

Anyway, they reach the Emperor’s Camp, where we meet the last members of this ragtag bunch of misfits...

GENERAL CASSIA! SECOND IN COMMAND DURING THE GREAT WAR UNDER EMPEROR TITUS MEDE II, AND MOSTLY THE ONE WHO HAD TO DO THE DIRTY WORK FOR HIM IN THE FORM OF DISCIPLINING DESERTERS AND ALL THAT NASTY SHIT.

Anyway, a plan is formed. Our Heroes must return to the Imperial City, disguised as Gladiators, and will use a secret passage near the Arena, the SAME passage the Hero of Kvatch used all those many years before to escape the imperial prison, courtesy of Swims-At-Night, the History Nerd him, to reach into White Gold Tower, and steal the greatest treasure of all.

THE ORB OF VAERMINA!

For you see, Lord Naarafiin indeed had the help of Daedric Princes, ready to spring up at the occasion of the walls of reality getting thinner, and Vaermina was among them. The Warlord was using the Orb to spy on the Imperial Troops movements and plans, easily outwitting them and laying waste along the country, committing one atrocity after the next, reading the field play for the final sacrifice, and our heroes needed to get the sphere away from him, so to better prepare a effective attack plan against the city before it was too late.

So, our heroes reach the Imperial Capital, passing as gladiators, and go into the secret passage, now swarming with perilous undead after many years from the 3rd era...

And with a mysterious altar, appeared out of nowhere, whose burning light, as bright as dawn breaking upon the fields, shone against the undead hordes, aiding our heroes in their time of need as it scorched them to a crisp.

For it seemed, not all Princes were in favor of Naraafiin’s plan of destroying the world.

Or maybe Meridia just wanted to scorch some Mummies, who knows with her.

Anyway, our heroes reach the highest floor of the Tower, where the Orb is left unprotected...

And where they are promptly ambushed by Naarafiin second in comand!

REIVE! THE BLADE MASTER! THE PAIN-SINGER! THE LORD OF THE ARENA!

He was him who had captured Tyr and TFH back at the start, and with a swift move, he has now taken Tyr Hostage, the gleaming point of his blade ready to slash the man’s manly and muscled chest at a wrong move.

BUT THAT’S NO ORDINARY BLADE I SAY!

(Yeah, only found this image for the card art, sorry)

THAT’S GOLDBRAND! THE SWORD OF BOETHIA, DAEDRIC PRINCE OF PLOTS! FATHER OF MYSTERIES! MOTHER OF SHADOWS! AND A BUNCH OF OTHER VARIOUS TITLES WITH OTHER VARIOUS GENDERS! AND THE REAL DAEDRIC PRINCE BEHIND THIS MESS!

For what better plot, than to plot to destroy the world, after all?

TFH has however been also fast, and has already nicked the Orb for himself, the kleptomaniac little shit. He is now presented with a choice. Keep the Orb, and watch his friend and companion die... or Give Reive the Orb, and get his friend back... “unscathed.”

And TFH, the absolute bastard and backstabber... chooses to keep the Orb.

(I mean, yes, technically, you can decide to spare Tyr... Except dude still dies during the ensuring fight as he shows his massive balls of nordic steel and SMASHES A DAEDRIC ARTIFACT TO PIECES RIGHT IN FRONT OF A ANGRY HIGHER DREMORA, and it is canon that TFH used the orb at least 10 times in his life if we go by Achievements, which he couldn't really do if he let Tyr smash it, soooo...)

Anyway, Tyr dies, Reive is Angry (And so are Laaneth and partially Cassia, like, dude was Laaneth’s friend more than he was anyone else, they had HISTORY, she is understandably angry with TFH, and he was working in close quarters with Cassia due to their ranks in the imperial army and shit...), and a battle ensues. TFH manages to overpower Reive and kill him, thus gaining the favor of Goldbrand and perhaps Boethia’s Themselves given their great betrayal and show of strength, since that’s how Boethia Rolls...

Anyway, They daringly escape the Imperial City, everyone a bit more somber after the whole ordeal, even despite the victory, and reach the Emperor’s camp nearby, reading for the next day siege, right in time for the Culling... BUT OH NOES! A Thalmor assassination deep cover team (which is composed entirely by Bosmer for some reasons... what, are Kahjiits not stealthy enough for your deep cover assassinations?) has attacked the Emperor in the night!

The assassins have been repelled, and Titus Mede II is safe, but the Emperor is now no longer fit to ride the next day. This will surely be a deep blow to the morale of the army, even now that has been bolstered by new and fresh recruits from Skyrim, and Cassia isn’t sure anymore they are going to pull it through...

And it’s here, that our “hero” truly unleashes his inner Robbie Rotten, as a dastardly plan is formed, I’m 99% sure after Swims-At-Night’s Counsel.

The emperor will remain in his tent, in the middle of the camp, unseen and unheard as he rests, as TFH wears his armor, and rides into battle on the front lines with his army, disguised as the emperor, keeping the Morale High as he valiantly fights of the Nazi Elven Scum, his Golden Blade in one hand, his mystical sphere of dreams in the other, as he conquers more and more ground, his friends leading 3 other different fronts in a 4 way attack on the imperial city, crashing trough to stop the massacre from happening...

And yet.

It’s too late.

Naaraafiin has already killed the entire population of the Imperial City, and the Gates of Oblivion are opened. He meets what he thinks is the emperor, his personal guard at his side, as all manners of Atronachs and Dremora are unleashed upon the city, and soon the world, as the Oblivion Gates open once more and the walls of reality are weakened.

TFH has to think fast, and so, attacks the Warlord, who easily counters TFH with his magic, now overpowered by the think layers between realms and his own, general overpowered Final Boss Magic, blasting shit left and right at a frankly insanely low magicka cost...

And yet, perhaps, this overpowered magic will be Naaraafiin’s Downfall, for the Orb of Vaermina cannot just enter the dreams of your enemies to spy on their plans, but can steal mirages of powers and creatures from your opponent mind, and use them against them.

And so, witnessing his prowess with the sword, and finally recognizing Goldbrand as Goldbrand, and the “Emperor” as the one who had killed Reive, as he steals one of his massive blast right from under Naarafiin’s mind, and uses it against its own master...

Naaraafiin falls. Pushed by his own arcane magick, perhaps still alive, perhaps not, inside one of the holes in reality his culling had created, the link between him and the fracture of reality severing, as the Dremoras and Daedras vanish into Oblivion, and the gates close.

The battle is won. The Imperial City is taken back, if destroyed and with little to no population left.

And the Thalmor are retreating.

TFH and his friend go back to the emperor, who congratulates with them about the victory, for the man really knows when the delegate, and gifts TFH his armor, as the 4 companions depart, each for their own road, perhaps to never meet again...

And so the story ends, with a empire saved from the brink of destruction, yet irreparably damaged, a friendship betrayed, and terrible memories people will never forget.

But when the story ends...

Another begins.

For to paraphrase Marvel:

SWIMS-AT-NIGHT WILL RETURN...

In Elder Scrolls Legends III: Return to Clockwork City!

(Tho there’s the Fall of the Dark Brotherhood first, probably going to do that first, gotta show you just how much of a Asshole TFH can be).

[1000fiction]

Day 5: Monster Fucking ft. Dremora Merchant

Relationship:  F/M Species: Unspecified Warnings: Exophilia, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex

Summary: The Black Books have provided a plethora of benefits to the dragonborn, including a dremora summon that is considerably persistent in comparison to his peers. 

A/N: Hey I’m not completely dead. Pleasure ignore that this is over 6 months late. Ily bye. 

The black books - despite their initial intimidation – had bestowed naught but blessings upon the Dragonborn. With her soul divided between several daedric princes, what was one more? Especially when they provided such benefits. An example of such was the merchant of Black Market who stood before her, smirking devilishly, eyes burning into the darkest pits of her mind - she knew he knew her intentions.

“Friend of Sanguine’s?” She questioned, eyes roving somewhat shamelessly along his loosely folded robe.

“Friend of one prince, servant of the other, though currently my dear mortal, I’m all yours” His voice was smooth, a tad nasally when enunciated. Not once did his eyes leave hers, burning, tormenting, inviting. They stood a moment in silence, the low light of Severin manor flickering across his face, illuminating his deep red markings and tracing the curvature of his horns. He was curious, quiet, and suspiciously persistent in existence. 

“You haven’t faded yet.” To her experience, dremora were loud, guttural, armoured, and did not last long outside of combat before being forcefully returned to their respective realm. A terrible habit that persisted in the bedroom, as the Dragonborn had discovered during a particularly curious escapade. 

“I’m not quite like your other dremora,” He began “I am here to serve and to sell, you either complete a deal or walk away, until you decide, here I remain.” The trained focus he maintained on her eyes was unable to miss the expanding of her pupils, he lifted his head with pride. 

“Perhaps we should make a deal then, my dear Merchant?” coy, he liked that it seemed, for the Dragonborn may not have noticed it, but the hinted invitation sent a chill up his spine.

Lips curled back to reveal bone-white teeth, each individually sharpened to points, as it was with all dremora, though his smile felt less dangerous and far more exciting. 

“I wholeheartedly recommend we should, dear mortal.” His voice trembled across her skin, stirring the pool deep in the pit of her stomach.

“I believe you are already aware of what it is I desire, but shall we make it official? You are a businessman after all.” A full grin and a huff of air from his nose was perhaps the most human expression she’d witnessed upon one of his kind, the presence of a sense of humour was promising. “If you can provide me satisfaction sexually, I shall provide no less for you. An equal trade, one we should find mutually beneficial.” 

The game had become dangerous, and with the presentation of a deal, the Dragonborn took it upon herself to make the first step towards the being, circling him, eyes following his deep red markings till they disappeared enticingly beneath his robe. When she came to a stop a mere two feet before him he too made his first move, his eyes finally leaving hers of his own accord. 

“Your terms are satisfactory, let it be known that I shall do my utmost to provide you the most pleasurable of experiences.” She could feel his breath upon the skin of her neck, and the closer proximity allowed his excessive body heat to filter into her. She could feel his eyes roving her hungrily, the tempered merchant fading to something more akin to her summons. 

“Shall we begin, my dear mortal?”

“Yes”

He near burnt through her linens on first contact, not that she’d complain, the heat was intoxicating, suffocating in the best of ways and suddenly she needed the bothersome layer gone. His chest against her back, he deftly slipped beneath the trim of her shirt, clawed fingertips indenting into her skin, prickling as he climbed to the underside of her chest. As his palm cupped her, she felt the heat sear her skin, she felt lighter, watching as her clothes grumbled to ash and drifted to the floor. 

He breathed her in, the scent of arousal filling his senses as slender fingers freely palmed her flesh.

“I do so love dealing with mortals.” A single clawed finger trailed from her chest to her navel, then dipped into the valley of her legs, a trial of tingling skin in its wake. The sensations set her alight as his other palm came to rest against her throat. His claws bit into the vulnerable flesh accompanied by a slight pressure against her windpipe, whilst his southern hand began to press against the swell of her clit with the pads of his fingers.

His attentions stopped short of her first orgasm. In response to her disappointed grunt the merchant chuckled, taking her hips, he pulled her to him, the solidness of his erection pressing against her rear, hot and thick and parting his robe with desperation. 

They edged back, the merchant taking a seat atop the chest at the foot of the bed, his robe slipping from his shoulders, and allowing the Dragonborn to gain her first proper look at the being. 

His physique was similar to her summons she assumed, however, his was stripped of the armour they constantly sported, and she noted for the first time that the markings upon his face swirled and trailed across the entire expanse of his body, including his cock, which was banded with the same red but black as pitch at the head. Not only did his cock sport the strange patterns, but additionally parallel lines of delicate bumps along either side of the shaft.  It was curious to say the least, as whilst the dremora she summoned were superior in length, they lacked this enticing adaptation. 

“There is still time for our deal to be broken. You can still walk away; it’ll be like I was never here.” He whispered, hands planted atop the chest as his cock twitched and seeped small drops of black liquid. 

“I don’t intend to break our deal,” She mounted him, aligning his cock with her slit and inserting the head, the stretch causing delicious friction that sent a shockwave throughout her body “take me.”

His biceps flexed when he pushed up into her, sharp teeth biting against his lower lip as her cunt constricted him, mortals were deliciously tight due to their inferior stature, and even with the great Dragonborn atop him, he could feel her vulnerability. Drool dripped from his lips and he pressed his forehead against her sternum, an elongated tongue spilling from his mouth to swathe against her tit.

As if the thickness and texture of his cock weren’t enough to stimulate her, the coolness of his saliva against her skin in contrast to the heat he exuded was near too much. She rode him till her knees ached and opted to grasp at his horns for extra leverage. Whilst she first anticipated his grunt to be one of pain, the following deep purr and slight increase in pace suggested otherwise, and so her hands held there, pulling his head back to stare into his burning eyes as they both moved to meet in the middle of their thrusting. 

Her first orgasm rolled upon her in pleasurable waves that built with intensity the longer it continued, for a moment she lost her rhythm, sitting and trembling with the merchant’s cock buried within her.  She huffed, chin resting atop his head as she toyed with the ridges of his horns. She was nearly lost in comfortable contemplation were it not for the cheeky nip he gave to the tender flesh of her breast.

“Our deal isn’t complete yet, my dear.” He chuckled, and soon she felt herself fill with a hot viscous fluid that slickened them both completely. It made her prickle with a strange sensation, the same thrum she felt through to her fingertips when she drank from a stamina potion. 

Rejuvenated, she leaned back, balancing with her hands on his knees and she clambered from her knees onto her feet. The view gave them distance as well as the perfect view of one another, and she watched in frozen delight as his tongue elongated further to swirl around her clit. 

She needed no further encouragement to start her motions, bouncing upon his cock with desperate intent. The ridges upon his dick rubbed new areas, and the dexterity of his tongue would have her reaching yet another orgasm in no time, but by the way his claws dug into her thighs, she assumed he wasn’t far behind either. 

The merchant gave low guttural groans as his head hung back, drool pouring down his tongue and onto their conjoined sexes. The lubrication he’d provided made her feel full and urged him to make her overflow with his seed and flush out the stimulant. His pupils closed to pinpricks as his orgasm peaked alongside hears, his eyes never leaving her cunt as he pulled her flush onto his cock, watching as the clear lubricant poured from her slit, replaced with his pitch-black cum. 

He huffed, reeling his tongue back into his grinning maw, eyes trailing up her body to her sweat sleeked forehead, her eyes closed as she recovered her breath from the intense snap of an orgasm. He could feel her legs tremble beneath his touch, his thumbs rubbing absent-minded over the muscles that flexed there.

It was not long before he felt the pull of his realm, his deal now done, and so he leaned forward, nipping a small bite into the flesh of her shoulder before fading into the glow of a portal.

Perhaps she’d have more to trade again tomorrow. 

[yansurnummu]

one thing i love about eso is like

all the friendly dremora

just hanging out