#Orvas Dren

[aladaylessecondblog]

Severed Destiny, pt. 9

"Now, what have we learned?"

Haj-deek took a deep breath.

"The spear is not a weapon--" and then, correcting herself, "The spear is not only a weapon. It is...an extension of my body and will. With it, I can both bring order and sow chaos. It is not an evil thing but in the hand of one meaning to do ill, it can become a symbol of evil."

"Very good," Vivec said, "A thing on its own is not evil. But imbued with and surrounded by it, it cannot help but become so. Good and evil leave their echoes upon mind and object alike."

Haj-deek had, as she'd had many times over the past weeks, a distinct feeling that Vivec was trying to say more than he was saying. Most of his lessons were like that, presented as one thing and coated in two more. Knowledge she'd take in and then unwrap to discover something else at the core...usually while eating or doing something else.

This, he said, was why he tried not to impart very much each day. "Wisdom takes thought, and thought takes time."

(Sometimes she was unsure how serious he was about things. Was he trying to be thorough in his teaching, or was he jerking her around? Maybe it was a combination of both...that thing he had given her, too, they did not speak of. He'd said she'd know when to use it, but how could he be certain of it?)

Weapon training was almost easy by comparison. She did best with her fists, but Vivec insisted on her becoming familiar with the spear and longsword as well. Her fists and a dagger were hardly enough, considering her lack of ability to maintain her own magicka. Alchemy could only carry her so far.

"Is that why you were able to...kill Nerevar?"

Such questions were ones Haj-Deek only ever asked when she was certain she was alone with Vivec.

Vivec was silent for a moment.

"Nerevar was grief-stricken," he said, "And so comforted by his queen, he did not notice my approach."

"So the story of robes and candles some of the books talk of...?"

"We made that part up ourselves. Consider in the future, if you are in a situation which may yield conspiracy theories and lurid accusations, it is good to have a hand in crafting at least one of them yourself."

Haj-deek thought for a moment before nodding.

"He intended fully to pray to Azura to gain some wisdom, and it seemed a likely enough thing to happen had I not..."

Her father's name almost slipped her lips at that point, but it didn't feel right to say the word.

"I remember hearing him say...Azura abandoned...me...us...whatever this is. When you'd all proceeded to the Heart, I mean."

"That is the very thing that I intended not to be," Vivec replied, "The sort of god who abandons those who need him most."

"And it worked...for a long time. But V...my father woke up."

"I think it would be best not to speak those words just yet. That he is what he is to you. But...yes. It did work. Regrettably we could not stop Tiber Septim, but...let me let you in on a secret of my own. We never thought that using the Numidium would go so well for him. It had a tendency to...well...kill those who used it."

"And cause dragon breaks."

"Dragon breaks. Laziness, more like." Vivec huffed, in a very ungodly way, "What an excuse."

"Laziness? Excuse?"

He suddenly sat up straight, and pivoted. "Do you feel ready to begin the trials of the Nerevarine?"

"I'm not sure I ever will," Haj-deek gave up on the subject as clearly Vivec wouldn't respond and settled for saying quietly, "But I guess I shouldn't waste too much time. Not that the training you give is wasting my time! It's just...."

"A reasonable point of view. Though I do wonder how long you would choose to stay, despite my...eccentricities."

"I don't know if I want to go north to the tribes just yet, or Red Mountain either, but...maybe there might be something else for me to do first."

Vivec seemed to brighten at that.

"Correct. To go to Red Mountain now would be disastrous...but I need not go on about that, you are bright enough to know the reasons even if your youth tells you that you may overcome them."

"So is there anything I might do first?" She wanted to leave the city for a little while, put to use these fighting skills Vivec had insisted she train herself in. What was the point of learning to fight if she wasn't going to actually fight anything?

"You can go to Tel Fyr," he replied, after a minute or so of consideration, "Your blood may be of interest to Divath Fyr - he is studying corprus, you see, and you are the first person to be born with it. And since you are clearly immune - he will want to study you."

"I don't want to be STUDIED!" Haj-deek burst out, "I'm not a test subject!"

"If you would let me finish--"

"No, I don't think I will. I'm not going to go get blood taken and...and who knows what else."

Vivec's face sunk into his palm for a moment. "Unfortunately he is the premier expert on corprus. I'm not asking you to take up residence in his tower. The opposite, actually. I want to see if your immunity may be passed on to others, and the only one who has the expertise to gauge that sort of thing is Divath Fyr. And...there's something else."

"What?"

"You wish to...correct certain things, yes?"

"...yes." She spoke with some hesitation, unsure of what he was getting at.

"Speak to the dwarf," Vivec replied, and noting the presence of someone in the far corner, lowered his voice as he went on, "In his corprusarium, the bowels of his tower, Divath Fyr tends the last living dwemer. This dwarf is...was...familiar with certain relations of yours. Go to Divath Fyr with the story that you are immune to corprus, and speak in secret to the dwarf."

"And you think that will help?"

"It is a lead. And the trip will be an excellent way to test the training you have received so far."

Haj-deek huffed slightly. The idea was a good one, and she hated having to admit it. Something of Nerevar kicked about in her head. Or maybe it was her own thoughts, or a combination of the two, or--regardless, she felt something, and that something was a grudging admission that Vivec was right. And he hated to think it.

"Fine," she replied, "I'll go."

"Excellent." Vivec brought his hands together, and when they saw the visitor was in fact Archcanon Saryoni come to ask some sort of question, he added, "Then go, with my blessing."

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

It had not been terribly difficult, getting along in Vivec City. Certainly she had to mind her manners around the Ordinators, but Haj-deek felt a lifetime of holding her tongue and making nice in Ebonheart had prepared her very well indeed for the problem. She found herself doing little chores for the Temple - to soften them towards her, Vivec said. Privately she knew it was to establish a sort of cover for her among Temple faithful - see, the Nerevarine is a devotee! See her dedication to the Tribunal!

At the same time...

...it'll get back to HIM, and that'll make anything I want to do...harder than it already is...

He wouldn't give the time of day to someone dedicated to the Tribunal. She would be lucky to even get in the door.

After getting supplies together, she found herself needing to duck the same sleeper as had greeted her on arrival to the city. Haj-deek moved toward the Hlaalu Canton - and on rounding one of its corners tried to back away instantly on sight of who was walking along the opposite side.

Orvas Dren, flanked by a couple of his Camonna Tong guards, was walking down the pathway. He saw her immediately, and though momentarily surprised made right for her.

"And what might you be doing here? Did the lizards put you out now that you are old enough to shift for yourself?"

"No," Haj-deek crossed her arms, "Better odds of getting work here that doesn't...well, they don't really know about the--the argonians here, and that hindered me in--"

Orvas's eyes traveled ever so slightly down and for a moment Haj-deek had the uncomfortable feeling he was ogling her - until she realized the hand with the moon-and-star was frontmost and the ring itself was clearly visible. She saw his expression shifting in the time she watched his face - confusion, anger, thinking, then a sink back into his usual bland interest.

"Well, well, well, little Haj-deek, wearing the moon-and-star. But, that being the case," his tone darkened, "I should think you would be smarter than to put yourself under the Tribunal's power."

"I didn't have much of a choice," she replied quickly, "I left Ebonheart and one of the ordinators all but herded me into the city. Lord Vivec - ah - wants to direct me himself, I think."

"Of course he would." Orvas huffed, "I imagine he will have you locked away in Baar Dau before too much longer has passed...re-education, that is his aim with most who dare to disobey his direction. You're fortunate I was in the city on business."

Haj-deek played along, and lied, "He's been training me, so I've had to pretend I actually want to be here. Around him. It's not that I believe what he says."

She wasn't sure how to phrase this, and from the way she saw Orvas's face working she felt she'd already tripped up.

"Well, you've always been intelligent in that way, you're quick minded. Learning the ways to fit in among those who don't have your best interests at heart. But there is something I'm curious about."

"What's that?"

"The ring. Did you already have it in Ebonheart? If you had gone to some forsaken place in a long pilgrimage to get it I'm certain you would have a different look about you. Sleep deprivation is a close bedfellow with anyone who takes a long journey and you look as if you have never been deprived of rest a day in your life."

"Well, I--"

"Perhaps you found it somewhere? Lifted it from the lizards who knew not what it means? Or you--"

"It was my mother's--" Haj-deek burst out and shut her mouth the next instant. Her eyes widened. he realized her mistake almost immediately, but definitely too late.

"Your mother's?"

Orvas's face went through a shifting series of expressions again. Surprise, thoughtfulness, and then focus as he went on, "The ring belonged to your mother? So she was the previous Nerevarine?"

The wheels were turning. He was working something out, she could see it from the way his eyes darted back and forth at nothing, but what?

"I--yes. Please, I have to get going," Haj-deek went on, "I'm...on my way to see Divath Fyr. A way of--proving my identity, you know, since I've--"

There was something sharp in Orvas's expression then, and another look like he was thinking deeply, or as deeply as one could when trying to be quick. "You've always been a healthy child. Go. Speak to your Telvanni wizard. But do remember I always have need for someone of your talents."

Orvas gave her an ironical sort of bow and an accompanying smirk then. He'd gotten enough out of her and it seemed to satisfy him, but why she couldn't figure out. She was too eager to get on, and hurried past him to finally exit Vivec City.

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

Besides the expected attacks from wild cliffracers (Sunchaser had to be healed up from several, while trying to defend her) and other dangerous Vvardenfell fauna, and sneaking by various hideouts and caves, Haj-deek had only one incident of particular note on the five-day journey she took to Tel Fyr.

While passing Dren Plantation, she happened to pass an Argonian slave who promptly dropped one of the apparently heavy sacks he was carrying. When she stopped to help he thanked her and introduced himself as Hides-His-Foot, and she returned with her own name, which surprised him, but he said nothing more until she spoke up.

"I am sorry to see you in chains," she replied, "I would free you, if you could but tell me--"

It is our duty, Im-Kilaya's words, frequently spoken to her as a young child, echoed again in her head, To help those still shackled by slavery, in whatever way we can.

"Go free?" Hides-His-Foot shook his head emphatically, "No, I am old and could not make it on my own."

He would say no more to her, and as she watched him go she told herself she would be back. He couldn't go now, and where would she take him, anyway? Perhaps if she freed a few slaves during her journey some of the other Twin Lamps members might trust her enough to tell her where she could take older slaves like Hides-His-Foot.

The sea breeze persisted as she passed Telasero, and even at Molag Mar where she sold a bundle of cliffracer plumes for more food and to repair her spear and dagger, as well as buy a lengthy hooded cloak . She glanced only briefly at the slave market, hearing again what Im-Kilaya had said.

I will be back for you. All of you. I swear it, she thought. If I'm Lord Nerevar returned I can do whatever in oblivion I want, and what I want is the slaves freed.

(There was a tug in her chest, and whether it was Nerevar or the Hist she couldn't be sure. But something was definitely pleased by her declaration.

It was a struggle to make herself move on, but she managed it.

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

Haj-deek turned north, and the land began to darken along with the animals. Past the Maesa-Shammus egg mine, a blight storm started to kick up, and Sunchaser wedged herself beneath the cloak to hide from the ashy winds, her beaked face protruding from the hood beside Haj-deek's, her usual high-pitched calls now completely silent as her wings hugged at shoulders. When the blighted kagouti and cliffracers began to appear she wouldn't emerge to help in the fight, merely tremble and kept her head down as if to avoid seeing them at all.

"It's alright, it's fine," she said, reaching up to try and pat at the beak by her ear, "I've got you."

If not for the map she'd have gotten entirely lost, and for a stretch she was afraid she had, but on having to hide from a couple passing Ashlanders Haj-deek realized the gathering of Dunmer she could dimly see through the red winds was the Erabinemsun camp.

Okay, so I'm close. Good. Good.

Her feet hurt, ash was everywhere, and she was ducking ashlander hunters but at least she was nearly to Tel Fyr. That was something.

Finally, she hit the shoreline. Thankfully, just as the blight storm was beginning to let up--and not wanting to waste the magicka, she removed the cloak, shoved it into one of her bags. After, of course, making sure there weren't any ashlanders watching her back or hiding nearby.

Sunchaser complained, but Haj-deek shrugged the cliffracer off. "Come on, I have to get in the water, you can fly that far."

She had learned to swim so early she couldn't fully remember when it had happened, and was almost pleased to dive into the water, even with the bags weighing her down and messing with her pace.

It was half an hour later that a waterlogged Haj-deek made it to the front door of Tel Fyr. She ducked behind a rock and changed from her damp armor into the darker clothes that still smelled faintly of skooma. Once she was changed Sunchaser took her perch up once again, and they entered the tower.

Five days, she thought, five days it had taken her, and finally she was here.

Haj-deek was greeted by a Dunmer woman who said, "Are you here to plunder the dungeon? Have you got corprus disease? Did you want to talk to Divayth Fyr?"

"No, sort of, and yes," Haj-deek answered all of her questions, and on receiving a strange look she went on with, "I didn't even know there were dungeons here. And I do have corprus, but I...don't, at the same time."

She lifted her right hand to show the moon-and-star, and said, "I'm the--newest Nerevarine."

"I see. Well. You'll be wanting to see Lord Fyr, then."

"I was told I should offer some blood," Haj-deek replied, shifting uncomfortably, "I hope he's not going to ask for any."

"I doubt he will bleed you like a vampire, but I won't tell you that he won't. He does surprise people now and then."

"He's up there, then?" Haj-deek gestured to the hole in the ceiling, and the dunmer woman nodded.

"I hope you know how to levitate, or you shan't be able to see him."

"Oh, I know, I just don't like to use the spell if I can help it. We Atronach signs have to be careful with our magicka supply, miss...?"

"Beyte Fyr," the woman replied.

"Nice to meet you, then. I'm...Haj-deek."

She cast the levitate spell and moved up, stumbling about lost for only a minute or so before literally running into Divath Fyr. She stumbled back, groaning in pain, and apologized quickly, "I'm so sorry, Lord Fyr, I--I'm not familiar with your tower."

Divath Fyr was fairly tall, and now she could see why it had hurt to run into him. He was wearing a full set of daedric armor - she'd only ever seen it in art! It was hard to imagine that it existed at all, given how rare it seemed to be. After allowing her a bit of gawking, he spoke up.

"Well! What a pleasure! A visitor! An entertaining diversion!"

It was more cheery than she expected, and it stunned her that Divath Fyr was that overtly friendly.

"Come to consult the great Divayth Fyr? You have the divine disease?" He seemed perfectly at ease, and all she could think was she was missing something. Telvanni weren't this friendly to outsiders, this wasn't how things worked.

"Well--well, yes...and no."

Divath's head tilted just slightly to one side. "I don't imagine you've come here before, which is the only way I've ever seen someone cured."

"No, I haven't," she replied, "That--that person you talk of, that you cured. That was my mother...and I guess I've inherited her immunity."

The wizard (she hesitated to think him one, with such armor on his person) leaned down a bit, and stared her directly in the eye, completely ignoring Sunchaser's fixing one of her eyes on him in turn. "You've no sores? No rashes, no memory loss, no strange intrusive thoughts?"

Haj-deek took a step back, a little unnerved by the stare Divath was giving her. "No. I've had the dreams, but...nothing more. No sores, no rashes, nothing. I've never even had so much as a sniffle."

"Strange...very strange. Of course I've heard of mothers passing their resistances to certain diseases, but corprus...this..."

"Lord Vivec suggested," she went on, hesitating to speak, "That I might give you a sample of my blood."

It was a disgusting idea, and she still would rather do anything but.

"An agreeable idea..." Divath seemed to be thinking on something, and went silent.

"I'm not cutting my hand if I can help it," she started quickly, "Even if it's just a trifling sort of cut and I don't lose much blood--"

"Oh, there's no need for that. You thought I take blood by way of a dagger? Unrefined, that. Inclined to infection...not that you would need to worry about that, but it is a concern for the rest of my patients. No, there's a tool I've invented that makes drawing blood much easier, and safer for the would-be donor. I simply stick a vein, and let your body pulse out the blood all on its own. Then heal it as you please. For my patients, I...install a permanent one, which makes studying their blood much easier."

"That's--" The idea of being bled was still gross, but the idea of not having to cut her finger like she was doing some sort of secret vow made it just a little bit less so. "I'll want to see how it works before I let you do anything, though."

"My oldest patient, he'll have a set of them handy. I've some things to tend to up here - you go and fetch the blood-drawing tools from him in the corprusarium, and I'll be more than happy to display how they work. But I warn you - do not attack my patients. They're mostly passive but some may attack you."

"I have a pet cliffracer," Haj-deek said, "There's nothing they can do to me that cliffracers haven't done worse."

That prompted a laugh. "Ah, to be young and arrogant again. Go on then, off with you. You've presented me with a very interesting prospect and I want to prepare for what I'm to see in your blood. Or not see."

Haj-deek moved off quickly, not really understand most of what he said next.

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

The first person she met was the so-called "Warden" Vistha-Kai, an argonian.

"Ruheeva," she said speaking first the Jel greeting for a stranger, "I'm not a new patient, but...Divath Fyr says I have to talk to his 'oldest patient' to collect some blood-drawing tools. Which of them would that be?"

"You want the dwemer," Vistha-Kai said, "You cannot mistake him for anyone else. Yagrum Bagarn is his name, and he is in the bowels of the Corprusarium. Pass through the gate and go straight across to the next door. He rides in a four-legged cart. He's not as dangerous as the other corprus victims. I doubt he'll give you any trouble."

"Thank you." She paused, took a deep breath, and then looked up to Sunchaser. "Stay here. I don't want you getting in trouble for attacking them."

Sunchaser gave one of her cries.

"No. You could get hurt, and I--I don't want that to happen. Stay here." She reached up to gently tug the cliffracer forward, and set her down on the ground. Then she pulled out a chunk of dried fish she'd been carrying in one of the bags. "Here. Eat."

She looked up to Vistha-Kai.

"If you can help it..."

"You do not want her attacked. You need not worry, I believe we understand each other. Though...I would not tarry in speaking to Yagrum Bagarn, if you can avoid it. These are devilish, temperamental beasts at the best of times."

"I've had to fight so many on my way here, I can't say you're wrong." Haj-deek gave a brief laugh, and stepped through the door. She readied a healing spell, in preparation for the corprus patients. As she walked ahead, she saw one at the end of a stony corridor--and it made straight for her. She ducked off to the side of the path, waiting, ready to bolt past it once it got close enough.

But it didn't attack her.

The thing before her, enormously bloated and half-limping, dragging the more swelled of its two legs with a great effort--it stopped short of where she intended to let it get.

And just stared, groaning as it swayed in place. Its eyes focused on her but she felt something more from it - pain. It, no, HE, was in pain. But given the horrible state of his corprus infection, it only made sense.

Are you sure you want to make the attempt, if this is what he does? The thought drifted across her mind, whether hers or someone else's she wasn't sure. It was uncomfortable to the extreme. You want a father. They don't want to be like this. Kill him, and let them receive the only mercy they are now capable of accepting. Let their suffering end.

She shuffled around, but the corprus victim turned to keep his gaze locked on her. She half-expected it to chase after her, but it didn't, merely stood in place.

The next she encountered did nearly the same thing, with some difference. This victim was smaller, or at least not as bloated with corprus as the first had been, but he stared at her as she passed him just as the first one had. It seemed to shake, and then groan in some unseen agony. A moment later it coughed--sending a wretched looking (and smelling) black fluid from its mouth. She stopped--

It groaned, and lurched forward, clumsily grabbing at her, and she ran off before it could close a hand around anything. It wasn't until she rounded the next couple of corners that she realized she'd gotten turned around and had made a whole loop right back to where she was.

Another turn, ahead to the (correct) door this time, another set of victims, another set of sick eyes that fixed too keenly on her. It was almost worse than them attacking her, to have them simply watch. What was happening?

This is what he has done. He thinks it is helping them? He thinks this a gift? How can he not SEE?

Haj-deek wondered if her mother had thought the same thing.

On passing another corprus victim she thought, I have to make him see.

The absurdity of it made her laugh. Blood or not, who could make him do anything he didn't want to? For a moment she despaired of the thought - what made her think she could do anything about this? If her mother couldn't change his mind, how could she expect her own effort to be any different? And she hadn't even SEEN the man yet!

She saw another Dunmer woman, who seemed to take notice of her but said nothing as Haj-deek approached.

"Voryn?"

The voice was thick, muddled, like someone with a terrible cold or a tongue too thick but it was distinctly male.

"You're new here, aren't you?" the dunmer woman spoke, "My name is Uupse..."

"I'm here to see Yagrum Bagarn," she said quickly, "I...I was told Divath Fyr wanted to sample my blood, and that this...dwemer had the...the tools to get it out of me without injury."

She felt entirely wrong here, out of place. Everything felt sick here, even the air.

A heavy tk tk tk sounded off, and from out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadowed figure moving.

"No...my mind is playing tricks on me again...my weak eyes..."

Before her now appeared Yagrum Bagarn, bloated with corprus and entirely situated within what looked more like a contraption to give him spider's legs than anything else.

He stared at her, as the others had, but he had words to go along with the motion.

"I'm sorry, I thought for a moment you were someone else."

"You thought I was Voryn?"

Her father's name. Yes. And this dwemer, riddled with corprus, his mind blighted as all hell, had picked her face out just as Vivec had warned her might happen. Perhaps ten people in Morrowind that knew her face--her father's face.

"The resemblance is extraordinary," he said as he squinted at her, "Truly, I thought you...well. I heard you say you're here for the blood-collecting tools. I've got them here somewhere...Uupse. I hate to ask, but could I...have dinner a little earlier? I'll want to ask how this turns out with Divath Fyr and I know once I start speaking to him it'll last half the night and I won't want to eat."

Uupse nodded, and then looked to Haj-deek. "You--if you harm him, you will have ME to deal with."

"I won't!" she burst out, "I swear, I won't."

Uupse gave her a suspicious look, but moved away. Not until she was firmly out of earshot did Haj-deek speak to Yagrum again. And too eager for answers, she couldn't help but ask the most burning question in her mind at the moment.

"You knew my father?"

"Your FATHER!" Yagram burst out, and devolved very quickly into a fit of coughs that lasted a minute or two. "Now I know my senses fail me! Voryn has no--never had any children! And never a chance to do it, either!"

But after squinting at her a bit longer, his suspicion cleared.

"I suppose I MUST believe you," he said, "For that face - it is uncanny, how closely you resemble him. But I warn you, it is best not to spread such information around. You think those with corprus are treated poorly outside of Tel Fyr? You have seen nothing of what they would do to a natural daughter of one who blighted the land with the disease to begin with. Why are you really here, young one?"

"To see if there might be a way to..." Haj-deek gulped slightly, "To save him. Vivec said you knew him...well...before..."

"That I did. He was the first friend I ever made, your father. Brilliant man. Is that why you come to me? You want me to speak of him so you might know the man you will fell?"

"No, no, I--" she worked quickly, stumbling over nearly every word as if something were holding her back, "I--I want to--if it's possible, I want to fix him. Help him."

Another laugh. Another hacking cough.

"Excuse the laughter. How very like a Dagoth to tackle the impossible! But if anyone can help you, I can. Whatever you think you may get out of this..."

It was a spot of good news. It was something.

It was a start.

[mareenavee]

(Tired) WIP Wednesday

Dragging ourselves through the week through the chaos <3

I've been ill but writing has been a balm! I'm gonna share a few snippets with you.

Was tagged by @thana-topsy (HUGE HUGS! Aiden and Sarel are adorable and you DID IT. You did the thing!) and @kookaburra1701 (I'm still waiting on Book 32 of your fic universe, and will cheer until its ready!)

Tagging especially @changelingsandothernonsense for the Sad Wars which have produced amazing content as of lately from me, for being writing exercises hehe. Not to brag, I'm just really fond of the work! And of course the amazing @paraparadigm, @thequeenofthewinter, @snippetsrus, @wildhexe, @nuwanders, @oblivions-dawn, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @throughtrialbyfire, @expended-sleeper, @inquisition-dragonborn @archangelsunited, @dirty-bosmer, @viss-and-pinegar, @ladytanithia, @polypolymorph, @gilgamish, @tallmatcha, @rainpebble3, @late-nite-scholar, @greyborn2, @saltymaplesyrup, @orfeoarte, and YOU. Because yes. You are tagged. Tag me back if you have stuff to share! I love to see it.

Below I have a few samples from some WIPs! I'll start with World, as I'm restructuring chapter 31 <3

This selection is long, too! 1,050 words, below the cut!

1) The World on Our Shoulders, Chapter 31 Athis's POV as he goes through Northwatch Keep to save Thorald. 219 words.

Still, there was something unsettling about how unnaturally quiet this part of the keep was. The hairs on the back of Athis’s neck stood up, some instinct he couldn’t place screaming of danger. Something was wrong. He’d felt this way once, years ago, before a bear charged out of the woods that time his hip had been shattered. He’d almost died, then, if it hadn’t been for Farkas and that priest out of Falkreath. Odd, that, as it was a priest of Arkay. The irony wasn’t lost on him. Now, however, was not the time to lose focus.

Athis pressed against the wall that lead out of the twisting passageways into a room that looked, from what he could tell, like some kind of torture chamber. Only, the air rippled with some kind of magic that felt like static on his skin the closer he crept. He remembered how it felt when Nyenna used certain spells nearby; this one didn’t feel like anything he could recall, and that didn’t bode well. None of it did, if he was being honest. He got the sudden notion that perhaps it wasn’t worth all the trouble — that Thorald might already be dead. But no. If there was the slightest chance that he was still alive, Athis couldn’t leave him here. He wouldn’t.

2) Storms Like This A secret WIP I'll be editing and finishing soon for a friend. 266 words.

He’d thought back to one of his favorite memories of her, besides their wedding. Before they’d decided to adopt and start a family, they were living comfortably in Proudspire Manor in Solitude. He’d been overwhelmed at first by the city he’d only ever passed through before. Living in it meant becoming entangled in the political nonsense, which Sigyn seemed to take in stride. She’d come home, fancy clothes thoroughly drenched from the rain after being gone a particularly long time on what was supposed to be a local errand, and deposited an old hip bone into a chest by the door. Unnerving, sure, but not too atypical for her.

She took him by the hand and dragged him out into the storm, onto their back porch, all while Jordis silently judged them both from her perch at the kitchen table. Sigyn had said nothing, only smiled as he’d exclaimed from the cold downpour the further she led him outside, but then, even over the thunder, he’d heard it—the Bard’s College, practicing for the Burning of King Olaf, bright and clear, almost enhanced by the storm, music reverberating through the very stones of the building next door. They danced together, on their porch, regardless of the weather. It was if, for a moment, the entire world consisted of only them. She’d laughed even as their sodden hair clung to their faces, and as water ran freely into their eyes. [He] knew then, despite all of her chaos, he would follow her absolutely anywhere for as long as he lived.

Storms like this always reminded him of her.

3) Fragment - part of The Bitter, Bitter End (Unpublished as of yet.) Featuring Nevena Ules as the POV and Orvas Dren. (Yeah. Ew.) 209 words.

Orvas was leaning over the stone parapets, looking down into the courtyard where regular people milled around on business relating to Vedam’s gathering. The moons shone overhead and, besides the noise of the crowds and bards inside, all was silent. She cleared her throat, and Orvas turned to her. He smirked—the same sarcastic look he’d won her heart with when they were younger and under far less pressure—and closed the distance between them.

His eyes, blood red in this light, held storms. She knew what had been worrying him, but she was trying hard to ignore that part, until it was safe to talk about it. Vedam’s overreaching included parlaying with the Empire and solidifying trade between Morrowind and other provinces. Only, there would be an embargo if the Blight situation got worse—which it already was, by the day. And if all of that work was so new, the newfound strength of House Dren would be the first to collapse. Orvas had said as much, and had been bringing it up in their conversations more often as of late, because Vedam wouldn’t see reason. He thought he could see a solution, but even thought of it scared her.

He wanted to ally the Camonna Tong with the Sixth House.

4) Fragment - part of It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Unpublished as of yet.) This one is is Danger!Bean Varlais's POV. 353 words.

Varlais never felt like he belonged anywhere in particular, to be fair. His parents had been elevated slightly after a few turns of events when they’d moved with Ondolemar’s family to Skyrim. That was, technically, his doing, all those years ago, but they were still othered by most Altmer of any rank, Thalmor or not. It was complex, of course, and he didn’t have the energy to parse it all. He’d leave that to Ondolemar, who seemed like he could hold every political detail in his head, as if his mind was some kind of tome.

All he knew was it had to do with the Ayleid ancestry that refused to fade into the background for his family, no matter how many generations. Aerissa, at least, never looked down at him for the blue eyes, thank Auri-El, but she was back in Alinor now, doing clerical work for the Thalmor. And, of course, he was stuck here. But at least, if he was here, he could try and save her from them. No matter how badly he missed her, he’d keep fighting. Before she became a thrall, well, she’d always stuck by him. He looked down at his ring, the gold band glimmering with a faint enchantment, the metal worn and scratched. Somehow, likely by Mara’s direct intervention, he’d not lost the thing, nor had it torn through his skin and bone in some horrifying way. He touched the edge of his left ear where he’d lost an earring that way, and was grateful at least in that moment, his magic worked to stanch the bleeding.

As of late, he’d been feeling even more unmoored than usual, despite Ondolemar’s best efforts—the man was seventeen different kinds of distracted, after all. They were and always had been close as brothers, but with so much changing and hanging in the balance, Ondolemar had to focus on the plan. They had a goal, after all, as impossible as it all seemed. The Civil War and the Dragons were mucking up pretty much everything. Varlais also tended to make himself a problem, though never intentionally. Not really.

[brostradamus]

after 293492394 years of not drawing anything i finally drew orvas dren, archmagister gothren + bolvyn venim. i had to crop bolvyn bc i thought the full image was. too saucy but otherwise here. have the fellas.

[atypicalacademic]

Silk 🧵🪡 (or maybe 🕷️???) pls and thank you u3u

Could be both really, Silk is about the circumstances surrounding Alsal's parents, and therefore the normalest most healthiest family in the world

“A favour, not a partnership. And that can be withdrawn if you break your agreement and overstep your bounds. I can’t let you override our interests on the matter. The Council would never--”

“Vedam.”

His brother was pacing now, his golden robes lashing against the floor. Tall, handsome Vedam, who spoke Aldmeri and Cyrodilic, more personable and charming than Orvas could ever harbour hope of becoming. Not that he did. Orvas was not in the business of envy. He could rub two sides of a coin without bleeding his thumb dry.

“From here on, I would ask you to consult me before--”

“Velanda Omani. Nevena Ules.”

He stopped. Orvas read the dawning dread behind his eyes. Not both of them. It said. No.

Little brother, the light of his life. His nix-hound on a golden leash. Orvas smiled freely now. “I can make you Grandmaster.”

[the-real-nerevar]

*the average day in the hlaalu council manor*

Orvas: I HATE YOU.

Dram: OH? WELL NEXT TIME DON’T STEAL MY MONOPOLY.

Vedam: Dram, give Orvas his 200$, you landed on his property.

Dram: NO. HES IN JAIL. I’m not gonna give money to a CRIMINAL.

Orvas: THATS NOT HOW YOU PLAY!!!

Crassius: Vedam, why is Orvas screaming.

Vedam: Shut up, Crassius, you’re not gonna talk after stealing my LAST RAILROAD.

Orvas: I WISH I WAS NEVER BORN

[igorlevchenko-blog]

Located halfway between Vivec and Balmora, Pelagiad's the only thing that stands between the Thieves Guild and Camonna Tong; the latter kept from swooping in from Ascadian Isles by an imposing fort that looms above Lake Amaya. 'Tis never been its purpose to curtail the local smugglers—vexing though it is to let them scurry through the honeycomb of caves around the trade road— but rather to check the mighty Dren Plantation and keep it confined it to the Isles—thus (deliberately, some say) allowing the Guild to run its logistics along the edge of the lake. One route leads to Vivec City (and its clandestine sea ports), the other— northward, further inland whence come the caravans of contraband ebony and glass. This uneasy standstill between two criminal organisations is only temporary, and before long the local gangs (Adanumuran included) will be forced to choose a side in this conflict.

P.S: The Tong is right saying: just as the rat comes with a ship so did the Guild come with the Empire. And on its institutions it's utterly dependent still.

A Dunmer chilling outside Pelagiad

[igorlevchenko-blog]

Morrowind WIP: Orvas Dren, brother of Duke of Vvardenfell

Old 2015 version is on the right.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Some more Twin Lamps Josh.

Inspired by @mareenavee fic Serpens Caput. I'm very all about Josh's Molag’shaln persona atm. The revenge he gets on Orvas Dren here is so so well done!

[trickstarbrave]

.

Okay but dagoth ur sending erotic dreams to the Nerevarine the moment he knows they’re Nerevar reborn. Nerevarine waking up having edged themselves in their sleep by Voryn’s orders.

Thinking abt it in particular with the Nerevarine I had for the one where the good three are backing dagoth ur. Neht is on a long journey from cyrodiil to Morrowind, literally being smuggled in by orvas dren. And every night his dreams get more intense the closer they are to red mountain. He moans Voryn’s name under his breath while he’s masturbating. He’s falling deeper and deeper in love with the gold skinned elf in his dreams. It’s honestly scaring him how much he wants that elf when he’s being dragged away to Morrowind to become a deranged God’s bridegroom.

Dagoth Ur is making sure to enjoy himself plenty with his Nerevar. Makes him relive their most wonderful memories and then even teases him in his sleep, affectionately calling him “Neht” over and over. Neht doesn’t realize it since he’s just named neht in this life. Consequence is Neht keeps waking up wet and needy, rubbing his cock over and over. He wants to try and find a way to escape but he literally can’t help but to pleasure himself to the thought of Voryn. His dreams are so real—too real—and he literally can’t help but get off over and over.

I dont think I’ll make it canon to that fic but it’s nice to think about. Nerevarine unable to resist masturbating to the thought of Sharmat, even if they don’t know he’s the Sharmat.

Or better a Nerevarine that does know those erotic dreams are from the Sharmat and chastising themselves for masturbating to the thought of him but they can’t stop their hand

[sylvienerevarine]

With the addition of some new people to the Sylvieverse, I wanted to do a proper re-introduction to all my OCs! Part 1 of the masterpost is my three main girls, Sylvie, Sacha, and Sophrine. Keep an eye out for the rest in the next reblog

Deets below cut:

Sylvie, the Nerevarine (starring in: Saint Sylvie, Land of Ash and Heart)

Thanks to some narratively convenient amnesia, can't remember anything that happened to her pre-prison. She's keen on mushroom towers, interior decorating, and flirting with every Nord in sight. Has some of Nerevar's memories, most of them weird sex stuff. Best friend: Falura Llervu. Biggest non-god nemesis: Orvas Dren

Relationship to the Dragonborn: Great-great-grandmother

Sacha Llervu, the Hero of Kvatch (featured in: A Respectable Lady's Guide to Skyrim)

Escaped slavery as a teenager and began a life of crime so she could get rich enough to free her sister Falura. Spends her free time drinking coffee and wine, often at the same time, and doing puzzles. Briefly became the Divine Crusader in an attempt to bring Martin back, which did not work. Best friends: Martin Septim and Sir Mazoga. Biggest non-god nemesis: Count Terentius of Bravil.

Relationship to the Dragonborn: Great-great-great aunt

Sophrine Aulette, the Dragonborn (starring in: A Respectable Lady's Guide to Skyrim, Land of Ash and Heart)

On her dad's side, descended from very sensible Breton innkeepers. On her mom's side, descended from the weirdest assortment of people imaginable. Loves cooking, alchemy, and terrible puns. Has an existential crisis at least twice a week. Marries a loveable himbo named Roggi after blackmailing him into not paying his bar tab. Best friends: Lydia, Mjoll, Serana. Biggest non-god nemesis: Ulfric Stormcloak

[stilllefttofind]

After spending entirely too long advancing the thieves' guild I finally got back on track with the main story whoops. (And promptly got horribly lost lmao)

Zelranil was somewhat hoping he would turn out to be another failed incarnate because he has low self-esteem and also feared the personal reckoning that would come with the realization that he is, in fact, intended to be a hero and to fight for others, and deal with the peculiar shame of confronting that he has not particularly been heroic or a good person. Which he's never been especially proud of, but he told himself it was just survival. But he's been warming to people and to Morrowind and afraid of getting attached to something.

It's not that he's against the prophecy or doesn't want it to happen, he does, he just has a hard time believing even now that it could be *him*.

But when a goddess tells you that you're the one, when you look at the ring no one else could wear on your finger, what can you do but believe? There's no running away now and he understands that and for once in his life he's... Kind of starting to be OK with that.

He's less OK with having to kiss Crassius Curio to get his support, but he's done worse things for less noble goals. At least Orvas Dren was a problem that could just be solved with gold.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Severed Destiny brainrot

Dagoth Ur: stay away from Orvas. He's a useful criminal. Loyal to the family. But I don't want you associating with him overmuch. He'll do anything for power.

Haj-deek:

*later*

Dagoth Ur: Don't seek vengeance against town guards that didn't defend those argonians. *insert the talk about vengeance leading to darkness, he's lived it, etc etc*

Orvas: I can have them killed :) :) I can even give you their heads if you'd like

*later*

Haj-deek: ...actually the guards are dead...

Dagoth Ur: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT--

(The guards were involved with the Camonna Tong, and she knows it, but...vengeance is vengeance, and being seen on Orvas's arm a few times is worth it to her)

((Haj-deek is like: so what if he's using me. I'm using him back!))

[mareenavee]

WIP WHENEVER! (Wednesday?!)

Hi, today is a bit of a write off day because it's spooky season and NY weather is telling me it's mid-July somehow.

I did manage a little writing :> And I'll be happy to share about ~300 words from two WIPS! But first, tags!

Tagging the amazing and wonderful: @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense, @thequeenofthewinter, @thana-topsy, @gilgamish, @archangelsunited, @wildhexe, @elfinismsarts, @throughtrialbyfire, @saltymaplesyrup, @snippetsrus, @rainpebble3, @kookaburra1701, @polypolymorph, @inquisition-dragonborn, @orfeoarte, @tallmatcha, @rhiannon1199, @expended-sleeper, @dirty-bosmer, @miraakulous-cloud-district, @nuwanders, @ladytanithia, @viss-and-pinegar, and @late-nite-scholar! Below the cut for shenanigans! WIP 1 has CW for creepy spooky season stuff and WIP 2 has CW for Neloth (yes) and his canon-typical racism (circa Nerevarine times in Morrowind.)

1) Spooky Collab pending a title with @thequeenofthewinter and @thana-topsy! Uldwin is his OC, and this is the downfall timeline. (: Writing is mine.

The ramp that led up to the mushroom tower was itself rotting through, stringy, toxic orange webs of slime mold eating away at the fungus. Lydia balanced precariously on the wooden support beams, cursing the weight of the daedric armor Uldwin had gifted her. Its enchantment sang to her, too—a whisper of some Bosmeri prayer. Like his voice, scratchy from use of the Thu’um. She swallowed hard against another wave of grief. This, perhaps, had been the last of his efforts to spare her whatever fate he’d willingly walked into.

The door to the tower swung open of its own accord, iron hinges rusted and knob caked with mud and grime. Then… Whatever it was had become aware of her presence. This did not bode well at all. She stepped through into the darkness, unable even to cast Candlelight to guide her way forward.

Lydia’s senses were assaulted by the stench of death—mildew and rot, must, pine, the uncomfortable sweetness of fermentation—not at all unlike the smell of Nordic tombs, long undisturbed. She brushed cobwebs away as she crept through the shadows. Dawnbreaker glowed, though its light seemed stifled in this place. Dread settled over her shoulders like a mantle. One step after another. It was all she could do, despite the fear. Despite how very much she wanted to turn and run. She knew she couldn’t. Uldwin didn’t. And now it fell to her to end this nightmare…and to bring him home.As Lydia took another step, something crunched audibly under her boot. A bone. No. She held back a scream as something screeched above her, the noise traveling through her skull like a jolt of Shock magic.

2) Light the Way which is pre-World. Backstory for Neloth and Teldryn, the Nerevarine (: And how they both ended up in the Twin Lamps.

“If I have your attention,” Im-Kilaya said after a particularly grating and reptilian-sounding throat-clearing, “we’ll need you both to help an injured once-shackled individual. His name is Tul, a fellow Saxhleel. Our Eyes have noted his injuries are beyond the help of what potions we have available.” He paused and turned to Sero, handing him a letter. “This, and he will need to be defended until you reach Sterdecan.”

“Do you expect trouble?” Sero asked, scanning the letter. Neloth glanced over his shoulder. It was written in some kind of cipher—it had to have been. Otherwise, it was an egregious misuse of parchment, describing in detail a few fictitious landmarks of Azura’s Coast. He watched as Sero folded up the letter again and tucked it behind the dark chitin plate of his armor.

“Yes, unfortunately. The farmhouse is becoming more visible than we’d like. It’s why this falls to you, Nerevarine. Protect Tul. I don’t know what waits out there in the dark, but the news brings me great discomfort.”

“Orvas has wind of us, doesn’t he?” Teldryn said after a moment. 

Im-Kilaya said nothing, and opted instead to grimace, hands tucked once again into the sleeves of his robes. Teldryn nodded; whatever silent conversation had just occurred between them seemed satisfactory enough.

Neloth knew that name. Duke Vedam’s younger brother, and, at least at one point, the more powerful of the two. There had been rumors about nefarious dealings, and a more recent loss of his position within House Hlaalu. Something Fyr had rattled on about, as he was wont to do, but Neloth hadn’t bothered to listen. He cursed himself for his lack of foresight. Not that Neloth was afraid per se, but what should have been a fairly simple task now seemed infinitely more complex than what he’d at first believed.

[ansu-gurleht]

it's kinda funny bc. derelayn is only the duke's daughter by adoption. she's actually llethym's granddaughter via orvas dren's wife amiliah dren and their illegitimate son galmis dren. so ku is basically babysitting llethym's dumb emotional grandkid

[oxalisvtesblog]

So which Telvanni wants Dram Bero dead?

"You have already found Dram Bero? And he died by your own hand? Perhaps word of his death has not yet spread to our Telvanni client…"

I dislike how Dram is the target of a grandmaster writ and the only context you get is the offhand mention above that the person who wanted him dead was Telvanni.

I have a problem with this because it feels a bit random. It would be understandable if Dram was so secretive because he was hiding from, say, Orvas Dren and his people. But a Telvanni? What ranking Telvanni would have enough of a problem with Dram to want him dead?

I'll just go through the options as I see them. It may be possible that a lower ranking, random member could have been the client but for this thought experiment I will assume that in order to have a councilor killed by the grandmaster of the Morag Tong you need to be a bit of a big name yourself.

Ruled out: Aryon, Baladas, Dratha, Divayth Fyr, Gothren (he would probably have been up for it, but he is already dead at this point as you get the writs after Dagoth Ur is defeated).

Neloth - He seems to have liked power games back then, so he is a rather likely candidate. He kidnapped Miner Arobar's daughter in order to influence how he voted on the council so he likewise might have wanted Bero removed since he voted unfavourably. It makes sense. But it's a bit unsatisfying since you never really get to know more about Neloth's motives for messing with Great House politics.

Therana - You can't rule out anything with her. She is simultaneously the target of a writ, and the person who wants her dead is a Hlaalu:

"Mistress Therana is already dead? Our Hlaalu client will be pleased."

I think this could be an extension of the Odirniran dispute, since it's in the same general area. It must be quite attractive, as the climate seems decent and there are quite a few egg mines in the area. Therana's presence and the fact that she is mining for eggs herself stops Hlaalu from expanding in the area.

So like, it could have been the case that Dram and Therana both wanted the other dead at the same time as a part of a conflict related to this.

Galas Drenim - This is a bit of an obscure character, but at the same time very important. She represents House Telvanni on the grand council in Ebonheart. It's also not too far fetched to assume that she was somehow related to the local Telvanni lord Mavon Drenim in Vivec, who at this point has been honorably executed. If Dram had anything at all to do with that (for whatever reason) Galas could feel a need to retaliate. Sadly I can't find any context at all as to why Mavon Drenim was killed. There is not a lot to go on, but at least they live in roughly the same area and this makes it a bit more likely that there was a personal conflict going on.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Dagoth Ur in Severed Destiny

"surely the harder I try to reach her before she's even met me will prove something!"

haj-deek: going to go see almalexia.

dagoth ur, on the dream-phone to orvas dren: if you do not STOP HER and get her here RIGHT NOW--

(Fanfics are fun)