#Nord mead

[caveguy22]

I love Skyrim. (Location: Northwatch Keep)

[elderscrollsconceptart]

"Barmaid Wench"

Concept art for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Art by Ray Lederer

[valen-dreth]

doing eso eastmarch quest for the first time why is it SO sucks (i know why. it is eso)

[bardarch-y]

Ah yes, thank you for your hospitality. For my travels it is vital for me to have *looks at smudged writing on palm* aaaan amethyst, a bottle ooooof mead?, A lockpick, health potions... And an apple, just in case

[lokhi-d]

Lets Slay Dragons and Drink Mead Pt 6

Twitch: @Lokhi_D, Monday thru Friday, 4 p.m. to 7 p.m.

YouTube: @LokhisWorld. I uploaded ‘most’ of my streamed videos there.

[uesp]

Dragonborn: Would you mind cooking something for me?

Neutral Spouses: Here, this is fresh. I'll have another meal ready tomorrow.

Nord Spouses: Here. Wouldn't want you going into a fight on an empty stomach. I'll have another meal ready tomorrow.

Orc Spouses: A warrior marches on the gut. Here. This should give you strength. I'll cook another tomorrow.

Argonian Spouses: Here. This is from a recipe my people have passed on to me. I can cook another tomorrow.

Drunk Spouses: Here you are. I added a little mead into the recipe. I think it tastes better. Let me know what you think tomorrow, I'll make another one.

Arrogant Spouses: I should be asking you the same question, but all right. I'll cook. Here, try this, and don't you dare ask for another one before tomorrow.

Rough Spouses: I can. Here. This is fresh. I'll have another one made tomorrow.

[guiquart]

Beraneth

A brief history: Grew up in the forests of Valenwood and abided by the Green Pact. She listened with rapt attention to her father's stories of his missions for Thalmor. When she managed to convince him to take her with him to Skyrim, everything changed. There, amidst the mountains and dangers, she enjoyed life: jumping over rocks, fighting sabre cat, meeting all sorts of creatures.  The fun ended when her father suddenly disappeared. After weeks of worrying, she found his body - mutilated, murdered on Thalmor's orders. She stayed in Skyrim, full of hatred for Thalmor. Without her father's support, she had to make a living by engaging in dangerous missions. Her skills grew, but it didn't bring wealth. When she was offered a well-paid commission in Riften, she accepted, despite having to work with «altmer» Pellyon Thaorius ( +++ ). Pellyon's arrogance and contempt infuriated Beraneth, and after he insulted her, she nearly killed him. All my text is translated through a translator. If you find faults, you can let me know so that I can correct it as soon as possible. Enjoy reading! This text was written for me by this author: @frimova Long story: Nothing in the life just happens. Beraneth had learnt that long ago, when her father had taught the little one how to hunt. Valenwood was a marvellous and most importantly green province, where bosmer could observe the Green Pact without any problems. But even such beautiful places could get boring, become so familiar and usual, so mundane that he wanted to climb a tree and howl from the eating boredom. Her father had travelled many places on Thalmor's errands, and Beraneth had listened with pleasure to his stories of hot sands, stinking marshes, beautiful fields... Until she encountered a real one.. Until she threw a tantrum so that her father would finally take her to Skyrim

A place her father had never been and a place where his help was needed. Beraneth had no interest in her father's business in Thalmor. She enjoyed jumping around the mountains like a mountain goat, riding sabre cat. Simply put - she was having a blast for all her years of living in boring Valenwood. With her father's work in Skyrim ending, she would be forced to return home with him and wallow in boredom once more.

And so the year went on. Beraneth had fun with her father when he was free, and the rest of the time she amused herself: having sex with random attractive elves, people; learning how to fight with an axe from some Nord. She did not remember names.  There was no point in memorising their names and faces. Why? She would outlive most of them anyway.

... her father didn't make contact. First a day, then a second, and then it had been a week! It was as if her father had vanished from her life, even though he was a pretty punctual Bosmer. In the second week Beraneth began to worry, no matter how much the innkeeper tried to reassure her.

- «Well, it happens...» - he said, spreading his hands, - «It's common in Skyrim to go on a bender. Your father's probably made friends with the locals and is drinking with the nords... or he's found himself some hottie and he's spending time with her. Don't worry about it. More Mead?»

The words were of little help, but they calmed Beraneth's anxious thoughts for the time being. Maybe the innkeeper was right. Father had always been outgoing, friendly and smiling, with such kind eyes. It was as if Beraneth's heart had died when the letter from Thalmor arrived. She didn't even remember the contents of that letter, which she clutched with trembling hands. But those lines....

«...killed by the enemy while on duty. We offer our condolences ... compensation will be paid to the family...»

That didn't make sense! At that moment, Beraneth smelled something wrong! Then she started searching every cave and ditch near Thalmor Embassy. Using all her skills, she overheard khajiit from the caravan saying that near one cave, on the way to the sea, there was a horrible stench of rot and blood. So bad that even the bitter Skyrim frost in the mountains couldn't beat the stench. So she went there. Found that cave. Crawled into the cave. Cracked the skull of a frost troll. Found her father's corpse.

Mutilated, wearing Thalmor clothes, with a broken embalming tool

in his pocket. The kind face was twisted with fear, one eye missing. The fingers he used to braid her pigtails were broken and had no nails. She would become part of the wild hunt without the ritual. Thalmor had used her father as a torture master. He was killed.

At that moment, Beraneth didn't go home. She wrote a letter home, explaining the situation to her family, enclosing Thalmor's letter and her father's ring. And so began her life in Skyrim, where she grew to hate the altmers. Without her father's support in the form of cheerful chatter and money, Beraneth felt lost. Money for food, a bed, alchemist and blacksmith services had to be earned and it wasn't nearly as much fun. The adventurers or rather the seekers of gold and glory were dying they were dying like flies.

But Beraneth was strong. She was able to adapt. She earned a few scars, often broke bones and tore muscles, but with each passing year she grew stronger, more beautiful.... but not richer. And that led her to a customer in Riften. Some weirdo from the Thieves Guild wanted some thing pulled from the deep ruins. Dangerous, especially since Beraneth had heard that a lot of mercenaries, adventurers and scholars died in those particular ruins. But it pays a lot and she just had to pay a blacksmith to sharpen her axe. And she needed to buy new boots....

Anyway. She needed money. And the sooner the better.

But there was one little «but» that spoilt it. The reward would have to be shared. WITH ALTMER. A terrible disaster that Beraneth could have survived. The pale upstart with long hair like it came off the arse of an elderly mammoth annoyed her. His face was too arrogant. And what kind of stupid name was that? Who names their child Pellyon Thaorius? Too complicated and she wasn't going to spell that name even in her head, so she called the arrogant idiot Pelly and settled for that.

But her anger jumped a few degrees higher when two cats joined their group of two elves. What kind of noble orphanage was this? They hadn't even travelled two steps from the customer's house before conflict immediately broke out.

- «What is this?» - she asked rudely.

- «What?»-  interjected Pellyon coolly, not looking at Beraneth, giving most of his attention to the cat on his shoulder.

- «We didn't discuss having two others with you. And we're not going to split the reward four ways, and I'm certainly not going to mess with you and your cats.»

Khajiit jumped off his shoulder. The two elves stared at each other.

Pellyon said contemptuously:

- «Mudbloods weren't asked for opinions. Do your job, miserable trash.»

Pellyon flies to the ground, his nose bleeding. Beraneth breathes furiously, keeping himself from reaching for his axe.

- «I'll fucking kill you now, son of an Altmer whore and a Falmer brat!» *I'll tell you about the two Khajiit later Thanks for reading! Little of their interactions in the future:

[oblivionloading]

Nords can use their ancestral ability to down fifty bottles of mead and reduce the chance of death to twenty percent.

[dynamite124]

Apologies if this has been asked before. Does Taliesin prefer his partners refined or rough? As in, does he like someone more that he can share a bottle of wine and gossip with, or your typical Skyrim Nord that's willing to go topless and wrestle a bear just because he's had a little too much mead? Does he care either way? Thanks so much for your time, I love your mod sososo much, and I'm looking forward to your other characters!

Taliesin doesn't exactly have a preference when it comes to his partners. There may be a trait about them that he takes a shine to, but doesn't make it a key part of him to look for in others romantically.

He may like someone because of their intelligence, or like the muscles on another, or he may be drawn to their bubbly or independent personality, or even to their sense of humor.

Although watching a topless nord wrestle a bear would be an entertaining sight to behold with some wine and cheese on the side.

[violetflamesx]

Here rn, drinking and listening to Newheim the Portly get drunk on his Flagon, starting a fight with a guard. “That armor is getting a bit tight on ya, Imperial.” Cough.

“Your flagon is ugly, and your mother—“ The guard splutters, adjusting his sword so he can sit.

Newheim smacks the guard with his cup, spilling mead everywhere. “Why you—you, you criminal scum!”

The inn keeper and some Bosmer make bets.

You smile into your bowl of stew, listening to the mug thunk against the guard’s helmet again. “You Nords are all the same, drunk, all bark no bite.”

Another day in Anvil.

.

.

.

Or me being bored, and letting imagination and whimsy entertain me.

[mannimarcoiscool]

I HOPE AKATOSH ABANDONS ALL OF YOU MEAD DRINKING, MER HATING, SNOW LOVING NORDS

[mussfis]

I think Taliesin and Yngvor (my DB) have a pretty strange relationship in the beginning because she #NotLikeOtherNords and was raised in Cyrodiil, but have average Nord appearance (facepaint, style of clothes).

Something like this:

Taliesin: Oh, so you are Nord, right? You are all about battles, Sovngarde and Talos.

Yngvor: I was born in Imperial City. Only my grandmother from Skyrim.

Taliesin: ...

***

Taliesin: So, do you appreciate my magic skills? I heard you Nords are not very fond of magic.

Yngvor: I'm literally a student of the Synod.

Taliesin: ...

***

Taliesin: Ahhh, finally we are in tavern. Do you want some mead?

Yngvor: I don't like hard drinks. But maybe I will have a glass of wine Alto.

Taliesin: ...

[elderscrollsconceptart]

"Tavern Wench" - artist's title not mine

Concept art for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Art by Ray Lederer

[kid-az]

Skyrim/Nords Headcanons (Very long)

Skyrim Headcanon 1: The coasts of the northern holds (Particularly Winterhold and Hjaalmarch) have a unique tradition in that clam and shellfish gatherers will strip most or all of their clothes and then smear themselves with the grease and oils of horkers and chub loons. By smearing themselves with horker grease, this not only traps heat within the gatherers bodies but also helps attract the small shellfish they harvest to feed their families or sell at the market.

Skyrim Headcanon 2: Those few farmers that live in Skyrim (Along with several Orsimer strongholds and Reachfolk tribes) have a complex trade system with the Giants, (Likewise for the Giants) with an equivalent exchange for whatever spiral-painted cows are sacrificed/gifted to the Giants. It is customary in Giant culture that the individual must grant the farmer that Cows weight in mammoth cheese or furs, that or they may stand guard and protect the farm during the night from wild animals.

Of course, this is just one example of the Giant and Nord trading system, and it is undeniably far more complex than that. For example, the Stormcloaks trade exchange with the Giants involves defending their mammoths from poachers. In exchange, several of the Giants are expected to help fight for the Stormcloak’s cause of an independent Skyrim. This exchange is kept so long as either party does what is expected of their duties.

Most small peoples/Giant relations often involve this trade and the duty of repaying that generosity, in whatever way they may be able to. Also, Giants do eat the Cows they are given.

Skyrim Headcanon 3: The Bards College within the Haafingar Hold actually had an extensive knowledge, history, and grasp in magic. Students learning from the college would learn spells that would allow them to pacify wildlife, boost the physical, mental, and spiritual abilities of friends & allies, and even counteract the effects of other spells and magic through their music. Indeed, even in the 4th Era where many Nords grew somewhat disgruntled by magic, the Bards College still continued on with its magical traditions, reasoning that the ability to counteract other magic with music would allow them to better fight the Thalmor.

As for instruments, members of the Bards College would use a large variety of them, whether it be the talharpa, the lyre, drums, the jaw’s harp, flutes, and musical horns. They’ve picked up a variety of other instruments and musical styles from around Tamriel as well, but they still mostly teach the traditional instruments used by the Nords. Folks from the Bards College also tattoo themselves with musical-themed tattoos, along with birds.

Skyrim Headcanon 4: Being a major hub for trade between Morrowind and Skyrim alike, the Rift has seen a small influx of creatures native to the former, in particular the Guar, (Due to their intellect, omnivorous diet, and the appeal of a giant lizard as a mount) a semi-giant (4 inch long) species of bee known as the Lightning Bees, (Make good honey for mead, but are aggressive and emit electric shocks through magic. Bards are needed to keep them docile) and the Kwama.

The Kwama in particular is a noted point of interest in the 4th era, as a third of all Kwama mining takes place within the Rift since the Red Mountain’s eruption, many members of House Hlaalu remaining in Skyrim after they lost their seat as a Great House. A breeding population of Silt Striders has also become established within the hold, snacking on the sweet leaves of the autumnal forests. They are a protected species within the Rift.

Although the members of House Hlaalu would become a house associated with the underworld and illegal dealings back in the home province, most of the members of the House in the Rift would be more honest Kwama miners and traders. Disturbed by their former compatriots openly and publicly turning to crime, these former House Hlaalu members would renounce their title, wishing to not be associated with the criminal underworld by proxy.

Skyrim Headcanon 5: Nords fucking love bees!!!

Okay, to be more specific they love bees due to their immense enjoyment of mead, so many of the southern holds would have many large bee farms. The northern holds (Or the rich) meanwhile create greenhouses to contain the bees and lots of flowers for them to pollinate and create honey out of. Riften is the unofficial capital of bee farming, as its pleasant environment compared to the rest of Skyrim allows for the largest and highest quality bee farms.

Of course, farming bees for honey isn’t their only use. For example, the Nords have quite a knack for snacking on the bees themselves, (Roasted) as they make a quick and energizing snack for both adults and children. The beeswax can be used to make candles and skin cream, the latter being of particular importance as Skyrim’s cold environment leads to dry skin. 

They’ll also use every part of a bee hive, such as bee pollen, propolis, and on occasion even royal jelly. The royal jelly is used to make particularly potent medications and can be distilled as a drink for the jarls and other high-status folk, even if it’s less sweet than honey.

Skyrim Headcanon 6: The Ice Tribes were strange, sapient constructs made of ice that suddenly appeared during the late 3rd Era, the only possible evidence to their appearance being several icebergs that drifted towards northern High Rock and Skyrim. Little is known about them other than the fact they wielded enchanted ice and snow in their battles against the peoples of Tamriel, and were also known to raise the dead as their personal servants in several different eyewitness reports.

They were invincible to all except for particularly strong soul-trapping spells, Daedric and Dwemer weapons, and certain glasses such as ebony, elven glass, and obsidian. Their undead servants meanwhile were extremely sensitive to heat, even among the fellow undead. Eventually, these strange beings would go extinct, unable to compete against the peoples of Tamriel and their superior magical knowledge.

In Skyrim, these beings were compared to the ancient ice demons that the Nord’s Atmoran ancestors historically fought against. Although notable for being called the Atmoran’s greatest opponents in the old tales, they were given no true name, only being nicknamed “The Others.”

Skyrim Headcanon 7: Eastmarch is a Hold famous for its extensive amounts of hot springs and geothermal activity, which the residents have made extensive use out of. Villagers would not take long, warm baths within the more modestly-heated springs, but they will also use these springs as a natural hotpot to steam/boil food, which saves on firewood and gives the food a rich taste. Minerals can also be harvested from the springs, though these are historically controlled harvests instituted by the Jarls in fear of the springs becoming destroyed or dried up.

Windhelm can credit its continued existence as one of Skyrim’s largest and oldest cities from these springs, as an extensive pipe system created during the 3rd Era allowed for the spring water to flow through, keeping the city warm and providing a constant and nearby supply of mineral-rich water for the inhabitants to use. Not all was well unfortunately, as the springs were historically used as a form of execution on criminals and Falmer slaves, their bodies boiled and then dissolved within the boiling pools of water. This practice has thankfully stopped.

Skyrim Headcanon 8: Historically, Nord culture emphasized the rite of adulthood through hunting. This came in the form of small groups of young Nordic men and women having to travel to the wilderness and work together to slaughter a large animal to bring back to their village/clan, either a bear or troll in most Holds. Usually, this small group of adolescent hunters is watched over by an adult warden, ready to jump in should the hunt end in disaster for them.

This practice waned during the 3rd Era, practiced only by Jarl successors or the High King’s inheritor. However, it would regrow in popularity due to the aftermath of the Great War and the nationalism of an Independent Skyrim, as well as the interest of the younger generation “going back to their roots” culturally. Ulfric’s commanders were chosen based on how well they led their comrades against bandits or Falmer.

Some of the Hold's adult rites involved hunting different animals, such as Hjaalmarch having the youth hunt a chaurus reaper or Winterhold’s rite of citizenship being given once a group managed to kill an ice wraith together. The Reach Once had its youth hunt Dwemer Anuminculi as an adult rite, which led to predictably disastrous results.

Skyrim Headcanon 9: Examples of Snow Elf architecture outside of the Chantry of Auri-El actually exist, but they are all underground! The Snow Elves alongside the Dwemer teleported most of their important buildings so that they wouldn’t get destroyed and repurposed by the Nords. As of today, these buildings are still utilized as places of worship or habitation by the modern Falmer, albeit the religion they worship is a little different, as they have included several Daedra (Most prominently Malacath) into their faith and sun worship has been abandoned entirely in favor of worshipping heat in general.

Skyrim Headcanon 10: Final and brief headcanon for Skyrim that being that Whiterun has a high werewolf population (Due to the Companions and the “lucky” few that got their specific strain of lycanthropy) but surprisingly few werewolf-related deaths. Because of this fact, Werewolves are given just a bit more respect and are given far less fear than in other regions, as many travelers and locals find themselves getting rescued from a wild animal or bandits by those blessed by Hircine.

[chrismien]

Let's explore the negative association of milk in Tamriel's Nordic culture.

So, basically, from the dialogue and other sources, we know that drinking milk within Nord cultures is associated with a number of negative perceptions, such as:

Milk is for children.

Milk is associated with weakness.

Milk is not a manly beverage.

This is evidenced by the lines from numerous NPCs in Skyrim.

If you have a disposition of -1 or lower with an NPC, they may say to you: "What do you want, milk drinker?"

There is also the Taunting Adventurer NPC in Skyrim, who is a randomly encountered warrior in the wilderness or in an inn. He says: "What's a milk drinker like you doing out here? Go home to your mother."

But it is worth noting that some Nords such as Rigurt the Brash from ESO oppose the concept behind the insult saying: "Milk-drinker. Why did that become such a terrible Nord insult, I wonder. Milk is good for you! I love the stuff! Not as much as I love mead, but it's a close second. Maybe third."

With that, it is reasonable to assume that some Nords avoid drinking milk to prevent being perceived as a cry-baby or a weakling by other Nords, and potentially even by themselves.

As we know, even in real life, milk is important for bone growth. When we delve into medical aspects, calcium is an essential extracellular cation required for muscles to surpass the action potential threshold, enabling contractions and therefore movement.

Skyrim, the homeland of the Nords, also experiences limited sunlight in certain regions. UV radiation from the sun is essential for the activation of Vitamin D from cholecalciferol to calcitriol. This fat-soluble vitamin is crucial for maintaining bone strength and a healthy immune system.

Basically, calcium is important for nerve conduction, blood clotting, muscle contractions, immune functions, and healthy bones.

But how would a race centered around strength and possessing a strong warrior culture maintain their constitution?

Skyrim is abundant with cheese, which is directly made from milk and is also rich in calcium. Digesting cheese breaks it down into its components, facilitating the absorption of calcium into the body.

There is also a thriving fishing culture in Riften and Windhelm. Access to the Sea of Ghosts allows access to marine resources like fish and shellfish which could act as substitutes for calcium sources.

I understand that it's a fantasy world, but creating a believable fantasy world can indeed enhance the enjoyment of the experience. By grounding elements of the world in reality, it becomes more relatable and allows us to better connect with the characters and settings.

We can now conclude that Nords are able to maintain their warrior culture despite the cultural bias against milk, which is essential for numerous bodily functions.

[aetherialfalmer]

Miraak headcanons because I have brainrot. Take the food.

When he gets exposed to mead again he acts like he's not interested but the LDB eventually finds him sampling meads he hadn't had in centuries. Miraak has to build his tolerance back up but he enjoys the taste all the same.

Miraak would be very quiet while on the road. You'd see him just looking around, taking in the sights and sounds he'd almost forgotten. Though he'd wish bears didn't attack them so much. He finds them neat.

He was taken in by the cult as a young child so he doesn't remember much about his birth family besides his brother Vahlok.

The dragon priest Krosis acted much like his guardian, keeping an eye on him, scheduling his training and getting him out of trouble. Being a former master thief, he taught Miraak a few thing or two in stealth.

Labrythian would be a place he'd recognize the most and it'd give him some mixed feelings. Not that he'd vocalize it himself. In Bromjunaar he might wander to find where he used to sleep at one point. He wouldn't talk about it right away, but it'd be obvious it'd be kind of getting to him.

Nords wouldn't look at Miraak funny, since to them, he'd look like what some nords would aspire to be. Miraak finds it funny considering he's Atmoran but he lets them think he's just a tall nord.

Attraction wise, Miraak didn't really have a preference. In his youth he'd never stick with one concubine for too long. They'd bore him after a while and he'd crave someone who could hold an intelligent conversation. However there were hints he had an affinity for elves. He says his cult made of dark elves was just coincidence.

The imperialization of the Nordic pantheon had always made him quietly disappointed. He'd refuse to use any other names than what he was raised on.

Talos was a controversial topic at first, Miraak couldn't fathom how a dragonborn after him became a god instead and then became important to Nords. The other Ysmirs would make sense to him to a capacity. Heimskr in Whiterun had no idea that he'd be on the verge of being shouted across the cloud district.

While he's touch starved, he moreso craves the simpler ways of affection. Quietly linking his fingers with his s/o, hugging from behind and cuddling before passing out in bed.

Camping is a guilty pleasure for him because the ambiance at night makes it easy for him to sleep. Silence makes it hard for him to get drowsy so he'd often leave windows cracked if he has to sleep indoors.