#barfok

[rhineposting]

i happened to re-read @bitchwhoreofastorm 's nord demon short stories recently and I remembered how a while ago I said I had to draw Barfok, so here she is now!!

(i can't exactly remember the specifics of her described appearance but. i like to imagine that her eyes turned yellow after being affected by hermamora. as for the face paint i know it wouldn't make sense for her to use patterns referencing the deity haunting her but i couldn't resist 😭)

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

Jurgen was enjoying a peaceful morning of deep contemplation in his chambers when the sound of a fierce argument arose just outside of his door. Long experience with his compatriots gave him the wisdom to arise and begin to drag his desk in obstruction of the entrance, but alas, he was too slow; the wooden door was thrown open with a violent clatter, and the incarnate of fury roiled into the room.

"I've had enough of her!" bellowed Hoag. The dark, diminutive man was practically frothing at the mouth, frenziedly waving about something Jurgen couldn't quite see. "Enough of her, Wind-Caller, she ought to be stopped! She ought to-- she ought to be put down like a dog!"

"You're over-reacting!" Barfok shouted from further down the passageway.

Jurgen briefly contemplated whether he could push Hoag back down the stairs, but in that moment of hesitation, Hoag had already forced his way past the desk that had meant to keep him out, penetrating Jurgen's previously-serene sanctum. "Deal with her, Wind-Caller!" Hoag spat, "Deal with her or I'll-- I'll--"

"My King," Jurgen interrupted him, pinching his own nose. "Let's all calm down for a moment. What has she done now?"

"I'll tell you what she's done!" Hoag shouted. "She's gone and anthropomorphized my lunch!" And he thrust his hands towards Jurgen.

The object in Hoag's hands was a haunch of roast ox, but it held itself with a dignity that surpassed its humble origin. In the light glinting from its marinated surface it surveyed the room with calm acceptance, observing its crude surroundings with the plain-hearted absence of judgement that set all of Skyrim's peasants apart from their supposed betters. It remained steady as Hoag waved it at Jurgen, unperturbed, as if thinking: 'And you are the so-called leaders of this Empire? You are the men I should call Lord?'

"He's over-reacting!" Barfok had finally appeared in the doorway, panting from the long climb, her pale hair disheveled and falling out of its braids. "It's a joke," she protested to Jurgen, "A silly joke, a prank, that's all!"

"A joke!" roared Hoag, pivoting around. "You bitch, it's a guilt-evoking metaphor for the lowest of my subjects! How am I supposed to eat it now!"

"If you get queasy when your lunch alludes to the petty-folk you send out to die into battle, well, that says more about you than it does about my pranks, doesn't it!"

The ox haunch regarded this argument with bemusement. As did Jurgen.

"She's been at this all day," said Hoag through gritted teeth, returning his attention to Jurgen. "She went and messed with Chemua's soup--"

"Oh that was funny," Barfok guffawed.

"-- Turned it into a complex metaphor for shame. Put him in the foulest mood. And now she goes and ruins my lunch! You've got to make her quit it, Jurgen. Morale's bad enough out there without her turning things into allusions and euphemisms and such!"

Jurgen exhaled through his nose. "Barfok," he said patiently, "Stop turning people's food into literary devices."

"Hey!" Now it was Barfok's turn to push her way into the room, crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest. "Don't you take his side because he's a wimp! It's a joke, Jurgen, a silly little goof-about to make the men laugh. He's the only one who's got a problem with it!"

"Yes, well, he's louder and more irritating. We don't stop a baby bawling because the baby's in the right."

"I'm no babe!" Hoag interjected. "I'm your King even now, Wind-Caller!"

Does this man deserve fealty? the roast ox seemed to say, when Jurgen's gaze fell upon it. He closed his eyes briefly.

"Barfok," said Jurgen, "Please, just-- stop."

A shadow fell over Barfok's usually-jolly face. She narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin at Jurgen, staring at him coolly from over her round cheeks. "Why should I?" she said slowly.

"I'm begging you, Sister in Kyne! Do me a favour and keep the peace?"

"Aye, you hear him? Keep the peace!" Hoag directed his wrath once more at Barfok. "You're toeing the treason line, sabotaging us like that! We're getting our arses beat by the elves and you think it cheers anyone up when their saltrice is a biting allusion to the evils of occupation? Get a grip, woman!"

"Stop yelling at me!" Barfok snapped. "I don't take orders from either of you! Nay, not even you, Wind-Passer! And I ent standing here while a couple old nannies squeal at me to mind my manners! Look, Hoaga, even your ox thinks you're pathetic!"

The ox haunch did, indeed, seem to have taken on a scornful air. It had borne witness to the discourse of Nirn's most powerful men, and it had come away disenchanted with both the airs of power and those that bore it. Its scathing observation was enough to bring them to shame.

"Hoag," Jurgen said tersely, "She has a point. I can't control her. Why not go to Ysmir about her?"

The hue of Hoag's face had deepened to a striking crimson. "Because he agrees with her," he said through gritted teeth.

"Ysmir has a sense of humour," Barfok said with pride.

"He encourages her tomfoolery!"

"I framed his chambers with subtle imagery of a forsaken homeland, and you know what? He liked it."

"Traitors and soul-sick fools, both of you!"

"Well," announced Jurgen, as calm as a man being judged by a haunch of meat could possibly be, "That settles it. You just have to let her do as she pleases."

Hoag's face flushed, somehow, even redder. "Let her!" he roared indignantly. "Let her lose this war with japes!"

"And what can you do about it?" Barfok asked smugly. "I'm the stronger Tongue."

"We can't command her, Hoaga," said Jurgen. "So. You'll just have to live with it."

"Damn you! You're meant to be the peace-making one! Can't you negotiate with her?"

"Oh, keep whinging, Hoaga, I'll turn your trousers paradoxical next!"

"The matter is settled," said Jurgen firmly. "Now, both of you, get out of my chambers."

"To Apocrypha with you, Wind-Caller! You know what?" Hoag turned his attention to Barfok, waving his accusing haunch in Jurgen's direction. "Why don't you mess with him this time? Hey? Why don't you, I don't know, fill his desk with symbolism or something!"

"Why, Hoaga, you know I'd do anything you ask!" Barfok said cheerfully.

Jurgen blinked. "Wait--"

He had barely begun to inhale for a counter-thu'um before Barfok sung out three crisp dovahzul words. Nothing happened, but everything was subtly, slightly different, as if they had just slipped from one dream to another-- disconcerting non-transition.

Jurgen blinked again. "Barfok," he said slowly, "What did you just--"

"Oh, would you look at the time, Hoaga!" Barfok butted in. "I'm late for my lunch! Good talk, Jurgen, dremyollock, make sure to shut your windows!" And before Jurgen could intercept her she had lurched out of the door and was rushing down the stairs, leaving behind only the receding sound of triumphant cackling.

Hoag looked from the doorway, to Jurgen, and then, finally, to the large window that dominated one side of the room. He drew in a breath. "Now that's just grim," he muttered, before taking a morose bite of his ox haunch. And, without further explanation or farewell, he turned and followed Barfok out of the room, leaving Jurgen in much-desired solitude.

For several seconds Jurgen stood facing the doorway. He pressed his fingertips to his temples. He contemplated whether he had the courage to turn around.

Finally, he turned to face the window.

The curtains hung limp against the pane, like the sails of a ship bereft of air, betraying a stagnation, a stranding, a loss of all will to go on. Though the window was open, no breeze stirred them, as if Kyne herself had abandoned the sorry scraps of fabric. Against the backdrop of the clear sky outside, the faded blue of them was outright depressing...

[barfok]

still thinking about barfok and ysmir. they're both very emphatic that he's not her dad but let's be honest that's her dad

[morihaus]

truly our greatest loss from the no alessian timeline is that lattia is never born and never gets to hang out with her best friend barfok

[colonel-killa-bee]

Barfok, is someone who I really wish was more prominent in the lore.

She was supposedly a winged tongue that could actually sing the defeat of her enemies into existence. Someone that powerful and who has wings? The last person, or thing we know of that was winged and powerful like this was called a child of Kyne, and was. Morihaus, the father of Minotaurs. 

Barfok, sounds far more powerful, godly, and like a literal Valkyrie in TES, but the only account of her we have is in the 36 lessons, which of course means it could be mere flight of fancy on Vivec’s part. But, if you’ve read the 500 companions, you know the Nords/Atmorans were a very strange and diverse bunch. One guy even shouted himself into a woman by accident. They also had giant-folk, and offspring of giantfolk and atmorans. A child of kyne blessed with wings and great talent with the thu’um isn’t even that strange for them really. Or for that time period in Tamriel. This kind of stuff just happened.

[arcturite]

Barfok, Maid of Plains, who had the powers of event denouement and could shape outcomes by singing.

Commission for @ayem !! I’ve been wanting to draw her for a while, thank you so much for commissioning me!

[barfok]

@nemenalya

[jiubilant]

the nord demons. barfok. ysmir. chemua. bhag. other bhag. hoagie.

[kagrenacs]

your nord demon headcanons. hand em over

:3! There’s five of them, five Great Houses. I think MK did intend for parallels to be drawn, and I’m not just overanalyzing. Bhag to Telvanni for his debate. Chemua to Dres for Khizumet-e. Ysmir to Indoril as the unofficial head. Hoag to Redoran for the war. Barfok to Hlaalu I’m realizing just now for sexual favors :/ (you could also go a step further and say Jurgen to Dagoth as the guys who get left out) I had hoped that was some clue about what holds they may have had, but that kinda falls through with Bhag being in the West opposed to the East.

Beyond that, I think Chemua became Jarl through family connections. And Barfok has a large brown housecat

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

my longform fics:

the egg of time: pre-nerevar almsivi backstory, loosely following the plot of the 36 lessons of vivec (93k words, in progress)

a rolecall of lives lost at the battle of red mountain: covers the period between nerevar's death and almsivi's ascension (21k words, in progress)

barfoksdaga: 1st era Tongue lore/barfok backstory (12k words, complete)

so if you're new here and wondering, "what on earth is the context for this", it can probably be found in one of these (most likely egg)

[barfok]

i do rly love the au where almalexia is raised by ysmir. like sure she probably ends up on the wrong side of the war with the nords and gets killed by nerevar but god she'd have such a cool time as a kid

[morihaus]

ayem brings up a good point i HAVE made my oc emperor lattia interact quite a lot with their oc barfok (who belongs to her) and now other than that... i think the most ive done is make some kind of joke about me jiub and zurin's archmages all being grumpy in a room together or something. the council of elders has decided that satu can be archmage if she wants it so bad (neither of the others want the role at all)

[dross-the-fish]

One quick and dirty sketch of Barfok for @ayem

I'll be honest I have no idea what this character is supposed to look like, there's only a single paragraph of her buried in the sermons of vivec.

From what I gathered she's a winged human who can control a battlefield with her singing and she carries a lick? Encrusted spear.

So I partially modeled this off of the illustrations of valkyries from a book I have.

[ansu-gurleht]

i’m apparently also barfok kin now? except i can’t sing. it’s just about. things i would do to/with vivec

[colonel-killa-bee]

Jarl Bardok Red-Snow, descendant of Barfok, Maid of Planes.

[jiubilant]

you can literally sing the thu'um! one of the five nord demons could twist probability by singing:

"Barfok, Maid of Planes, who appeared as a winged human with lick-encrusted spear, had the powers of Event Denouement. Battles fought against her would almost always end in victory for Barfok, because she could shape outcomes by singing."

- thirty-six lessons of vivec, sermon nine

i know the tongues “singing shor’s ghost into the world” was probably some sort of exaggeration but… if you could “sing” the thu'um… what could happen… like could you make stronger shouts or link ‘em together… give me ur lore