#count andel indarys

[hannah-heartstrings]

A Convenient Inconvenience

Finally after some rewrites, several edits, and a few distractions I’ve finished a fic with all four Heroes of Kvatch.

Me and my family pretend like our Elder Scrolls characters travel together, we’ve basically turned the Oblivion Crisis into a found family road trip. And this road trip is filled with a lot of bickering and detours, especially when one can’t stop doing side quests and another’s always looking for an excuse to visit a certain friend...

About 1,450 words so 1,200 is below a cut.

@nine-blessed-hero @babyblueetbaemonster 

Just tell me, anyone, if you want on or off the taglist. And for more, all my tes fanfics get reblogged to @ragtags-of-tamriel.

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           The sun hung high, leaving short shadows around the trees and not much shade for the road.

           Four adventurers rode or walked down the road in a diamond formation.

           Rann smiled confidently as he led them atop his unicorn.

           In the back Praelyn surveyed the surrounding forest from her white horse. “Isn’t Cheydinhal a bit out of the way?”

           “Lecrinn found a lost heirloom, and you know how serious I am about returning lost family heirlooms.”

           Her brows lowered. “Unless they’re powerful maces?”

           “I’m still in the process of returning it,” he said defensively, glancing back.

           Between them rode Reptilious. He arched a brow at Lecrinn who walked beside, always insisting she was fast enough on her own. “Cheydinhal huh? Convenient…”

           She shot a quick glare up at him.

           Praelyn still had her annoyed gaze set on Rann. “And how long have you been in the process of returning it?”

           “I don’t remember,” he said quickly.

           As no one spoke it grew quiet, just the soft hoof beats against the dirt and a distant songbird.

           Lecrinn looked to the trees, spotting one with pink flowers she gave a big smile. They were getting close.

           “You know what I don’t get?” Reptilious asked after a minute. “How are people always losing their heirlooms?”

           “I know,” Praelyn’s face pinched, “you’d think they’d keep better track of them.”

           “They should lock them up,” Rann added.

           Lecrinn faced forward. “What I don’t get is when people lock up the most mundane things.”

           They all looked at her.

           She stared intently ahead, looking more awkward by the moment.

---

           A Dunmer woman sat on a bench outside the stables, finishing off a loaf of bread. At the clops of horses she looked down the road, beaming as they came into view.

           “I could know for perfectly legitimate reasons,” Lecrinn argued as they came up to the stable.

           “Yeah but you don’t,” said Reptilious.

           As they dismounted the woman ran up to the unicorn. “Hey there,” she said gently as she petted its muzzle.

           “Hey Mivryna,” Lecrinn passed her.

           She turned her head to give her a quick nod. Turning back to the unicorn her smile widened. “I have apples for all of you!”

           “Thanks!” Rann stood beside the unicorn.

           “Oh,” she laughed nervously, “I was actually talking to the horses but you can have one too.”

           As the rest led the horses to the pen Lecrinn came up to Rann. “How long are we staying?”

           “I thought we’d just return the medallion, grab something to eat, and be on our way.”

           She looked worried. “Yeah, but while we’re in town anyways might be a good time to stop for the night.”

           He looked confused. “It’s noon.”

           “But by the time we’ve restocked and checked if anyone needs anything it won’t be.”

           “Didn’t we restock in Skingrad?”

           Her mouth hung open, floundering for an excuse.

           Reptilious came from the pen. “It wouldn’t hurt to spend an hour or two checking in, while we’re here.”

           Praelyn came up beside him. “I thought this was supposed to be a quick trip.”

           “Yes, but we don’t really need to hurry right now, it’s a good chance to make sure everything’s all right.”

           “I guess that’s true,” she nodded in agreement.

           Lecrinn eased.

           “I’ll check on the Fighter’s Guild,” Reptilious continued.

           Putting his fists on his hips Rann stood straighter. “And I’ll see if anyone needs a Hero of Kvatch, or an Arena Champion, or a dragon slayer.”

           The other three glanced at each other.

           “Sure,” Lecrinn nodded.

           “I suppose I’ll check on the Mage’s Guild,” said Praelyn, “someone should also make sure Rythe hasn’t fallen into a painting.” Gaze catching on Lecrinn she gave a playful smile. “Unless I need to keep an eye on everyone’s locked chests.”

          “Oh I think she’ll be busy,” Reptilious shot a slight smirk at Lecrinn, getting a glare back.

---

             Rann walked confidently as he led them through town. “Hey,” he greeted a Dunmer as she passed by, “Hero of Kvatch here, how may I help…” his head trailed after her as she kept walking. “I’ll check in later,” he looked forward, never losing the sure grin. “Hi,” he greeted a patrol, “yeah, Hero of Kvatch.”

           Looking away, Praelyn shook her head. Lecrinn held in a laugh while Reptilious just stared ahead.

           “Hello ma’am, Hero of-”

           She walked off.

           “Well I’m busy now, I’ll talk to you later.”

           As they reached the castle Lecrinn lit up with a big smile.

           Entering the throne room there was the count, his bodyguard, and steward.

           Her smile fell, immediately searching the room. Her steps slowed, falling behind the group.

           Rann stopped in the middle of the room, speaking proudly. “Hello sir, Heroes of Kvatch here to request an audience.” He raised his hand to take a dramatic bite from an apple.

           The count looked both confused and curious. “Go on.”

           He held up a finger as he quickly chewed.

           His confusion grew.

           With a sigh Praelyn’s head sunk into her palm.

           After choking down the bite he regained his composure. “We are here to return your lost heirloom,” he pulled the necklace from his pocket. “No need to thank us but you are welcome.”

           He gasped. “My Hlaalu Medallion! Where did you get that?”

           Opening his mouth he paused, realizing he didn’t know.

           “It doesn’t matter, I do thank you for returning it. Naspia,” he turned to his steward, “see that they are rewarded.”

           She nodded, took the necklace, and left.

           Praelyn stepped up beside Rann, hands folded before her. “We thank you for your generosity sir, that won’t be necessary.”

           “But I want stuff.”

           She elbowed him, aiming for his waist but forgetting her own height hit his chest.

           “No, I insist,” said the count.

           Rubbing his chest Rann leaned towards her, whispering. “What was that for?”

           She kept facing forward, eyes cutting to him as she whispered back. “You don’t need more stuff, you can barely carry the stuff you’ve got.”

           “I’ll replace it with better stuff.”

           “You don’t even know what all you have!” she snapped in a hushed tone.

           “Sure I do, I have this mace-”

           “That’s not yours!”

           Reptilious grimaced, wondering if they realized the room was quiet and echoey.

           “Without looking,” Praelyn turned to him, “can you tell me how many skulls you’re carrying?”

           “You made me get rid of the skulls!”

           “As if you haven’t picked more up!”

           “Not recently!”

           As they continued their whispered argument the count looked uncomfortable.

           Reptilious glanced back as Lecrinn snuck from the room. He shook his head but wore a slight smile.

           In the hall she passed a Khajiit servant. “Oh, hi Ra’qanar.”

           He looked from her to the throne room, curious.

           Once outside she crossed the courtyard, heading for the town.

           “Lecrinn?” asked a surprised voice from behind her.

           Turning she smiled. “Garrus!”

           There stood the guard captain before the barracks door. As he walked towards, so did she, arms bobbing at her sides.

           “It’s good to see you again,” he beamed before looking a little shy, “I was starting to worry.”

           “No he wasn’t!” a guard yelled from the barracks. “He worried about you the second you left!”

           He turned to look at him annoyed.

           He smirked back before heading towards town.

           “Ignore Marcus,” he turned back to her.

           “He’s fine,” she glanced after Marcus with a snicker before facing Garrus. “I’m going to be in town for an hour or two so I thought maybe we could get lunch? Unless you’ve already eaten,” her sure tone started to fade, “but we could take a walk or… something else.” She looked nervously hopeful.

           “I believe I could spare a few hours.” He smiled, her nerves calming. “And, no, I haven’t eaten, but while patrolling the market earlier I saw someone selling meat pies that smelled really good.”

           “A stroll through the market sounds nice.”

           “We can stroll after we eat, you’ll need to rest since, knowing you, you probably walked the whole way here,” he looked almost accusingly.

           “I’ll be fine.”

           “I know you will, because I’m making sure of it.”

           Her lips tightened in an attempt to contain the widening smile.

           “So how does eating meat pies by the river sound?”

           Her voice softened. “Sounds lovely.”

           “Great,” a smile brightened. “I’ll see if I can get someone to cover the shift.” He headed back to the barracks.

           She smiled triumphantly as she stared after him.

           Once he left Ra’qanar came up beside her confused. “Khajiit doesn’t understand, why did you bother to steal the medallion just to return it?”

           Gaze shifting to him, her eyes narrowed into a sly smirk. “I didn’t need it anymore.”

[oblivionloading]

Due to years of tradition, luring count Andel Indarys to a cave full of oiled-up goblins wielding foam war hammers is not considered a crime.

[thequeenofthieves]

Count Indarys: So what are your interests, my lady?

Varinia: Your son in my room.

Count Indarys: *raises eyebrow* Pardon?

Varinia: The sun and the moon. Astronomy.

[artistic-lightcycle-tes]

Hoks fav count

Count Umbranox: well, the Hero of Kvatch and I are good friends and I'm their favourite count in Cyrodiil.

Count Hassildor: Corvus, Corvus, you've been gone for 10 years and I don't think your "friendship" with the HoK is as strong as mine. They helped me with several things already.

Count Indarys: Well gentlemen, they assisted my son earlier in the crisis with an oblivion gate and that only shows that we are their favourite noble family with makes me their favourite count.

Countess Carvain: Boys, the HoK fought a whole battle before the gates of my city so please, get in line.

[uesp]

"Imperials hate Dark Elves; Dark Elves hate Imperials. Imperials hate that a no-name Hlaalu trader got made into a count. Andel Indarys doesn't help his case by having a prat for a son, and a wife that dies in very suspicious circumstances. Our Dark Elves left Morrowind to get away from the Church and State, and they don't like it when Imperials get all holy and patriotic with them. Of course, local Dark Elves tend to be money-grubbing, alcoholic low-brows with little education or culture. Since I read a lot, and speak well, and don't drink brandy from milk pails, I guess I qualify as an Imperial. But on the whole, I like Cheydinhal's Dark Elves better than I like the Imperials, so go figure...."

--Mach-Na, describing Cheydinhal

[cyrodiilproblems]

Count Andel Indarys

[meloblivion]

Count Andel Indarys with melons

[mazurah]

So I was gossipping with the nobility, y’know, like you do, when this happened. Apparently, the Count and Countess of Leyawiin have some things to say about the Count of Cheydinhal.

Count Marius Caro: “Andel Indarys is an intemperate, bibulous philanderer. And a Dark Elf. Other than that, he is perfectly suited to be a count.”

Countess Alessia Caro: “How did a Dark Elf become Count Cheydinhal? King Helseth and Barenziah have considerable influence, and Helseth and Indarys are cronies. Get it?”

Count Marius Caro: “Andel Indarys may or may not have killed his wife, and it may or may not have been an accident. And I doubt we’ll ever know for sure.”

[nostalgic-breton-girl]

I tried to come up with some Imperial headcanons of my own, but they mostly ended up late-Third-Era-Cyrodiil headcanons. I’ll post them anyway, I hope they are of some interest.

It will not surprise you that I have incorporated certain elements of Roman culture into them; I have also ended up leaning quite heavily on the 18th century, because I’m studying literature from that period, and because Enlightenment culture borrowed a lot from Classical culture.

As Imperials are renowned as excellent speechcrafters, eloquence is one of the most prized attributes a person can have. The art of conversation is ranked higher than all other arts.

The salon has developed as a concept of entertainment among the higher classes: but though they do frequently discuss art and literature, it is usually with a very philosophical slant.

Conversation is down to a precise art among the higher classes. Those who speak well like to think that that earned them their high position, and are keen to keep it up. Other cultures and races are quite baffled by it; part of the reason Andel Indarys is so disparaged as Count is because he has not mastered Imperial conversation, and tends to speak his mind straight, as they do in Morrowind, something the Imperial noble will never, ever do, at least not at a dinner-party.

(While most Imperials have some talent for eloquence, these pernickety elements of etiquette are significantly less observed among the lower classes.)

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

The notion of a standard language is certainly present among the Imperials, though perhaps not as enforced as, say, English and French have been historically.

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Imperials are a race of shopkeepers, and as good as invented the idea of money and capitalism.

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Social bathing is important among the Imperials, and all cities in Cyrodiil have a bathhouse, or sometimes more than one. The layout of such bathhouses is similar to that of a Roman bathhouse; heating is by a similar mechanism (the hypocaust); and class boundaries are entirely absent within, with nobles and commoners mingling, all of them unclothed, and far more civil to each other than they might be outside.

Spa resorts such as Mir Corrup are also extremely popular – the Aquae Sulis of Cyrodiil, if you like.

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

Imperial meals favour fruits, spices, herbs and bread. While they are not the best cooks in Tamriel, even Bretons have to admit that their meals can be exquisitely light and delicate.

Imperials pair wine with almost excessive flair, and every course of an Imperial meal will be accompanied by a well-chosen wine, if the host can afford it. Fruit stewed or poached in wine is a popular dessert.

The quality of the wine means that Cyrodiil cuisine is also treated to excellent vinegar, which is one of the main means of preserving food in the province.

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

Art and architecture is very precise and often geometric. There is a certain penchant for the tapestry, often woven in patterns rather than depicting any sort of image.

The Imperial garden shows some tension between the geometric and organised, and a slightly more eclectic style. It often depends on the gardener’s upbringing: those who grew up in rural Cyrodiil will often bring a touch of true nature to the garden, where the city-dweller prefers a neat style and the appearance of having tamed and dominated nature.

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

While more rural inns will often have a bard, frequently someone with origins in another province, Imperial musical culture is in a classical style, very neat and orderly, and performed either with a small orchestra, or as chamber-music. Soloists, vocalists, musical depictions of emotion and passion, and drinking-songs are not absent, but are often frowned upon.

The concept of the bard as an art form rather than simply an entertainment is essentially limited to Skyrim. Certain Breton composers have started to introduce elements of more “Romantic” music (as opposed to “Classical”) to Cyrodiilic music, but to a very limited extent.

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Imperial literature is not viewed especially highly from the outside, though it is far from non-existent. Where it is present, it is often academic, or philosophical. There is a certain amount of fiction, though this seems to have been introduced through the Breton storytelling tradition (see Waughin Jarth, who is likely a Breton), and a good part of purely entertaining fiction is specifically aimed at children.

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The arena/gladiator fight is often cited as a big part of Cyrodiilic/Imperial culture. Certainly the duel to the death is not confined to this culture, but, unlike in Morrowind, private matters are settled here with private duels; the arenas in the City and in Kvatch are purely for entertainment.

The middle-distance horse-race is an occasional event, with people of all backgrounds competing. The traditional route is around the City ring-road. Cyrodiilic horses are particularly suited for this sort of competition, and are often trained for it.

Hunting is a pastime among certain nobles, usually of boar, but sometimes of more impressive prey, like mountain-lions, or dreugh. A young noble often proves themselves in a hunt. Special outfits are worn, and there is a strict code of conduct and hierarchy.

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Religion among the Cyrodiils is very much a friendly and fairly lax sort of organisation, though occasionally hypocritical. The chapels drive a culture of charity and assist at various levels of society – but rarely with effective long-term solutions.

Church services consist of well-worded sermons, charitable collections, and the occasional choral or instrumental interlude. – By well-worded, I mean simple, concise, not especially forceful (on the surface at least), and frequently entertaining.

possibly unpopular tes opinion: imperials (the race) are way more interesting than people generally give them credit for

does anyone have imperial ocs or imperial headcanons because i quite want to see them

[hannah-heartstrings]

*Lecrinn walks into Cheydinhal Castle*

Guard: Ah, our queen graces us with her presence once more.

Lecrinn: *Playful smirk at him*

Andel Indarys: *Done with them* You don’t have a queen, you have a count: me.

Second Guard: *At Lecrinn* This guy bothering you, queen?

[justdunmerthings]

being the only dunmer count in cyrodiil.

[hannah-heartstrings]

Quick snip I might turn into a fic at a later date, this would go immediately after Lecrinn arguing with Count Andel Indarys.

@druidx @babyblueetbaemonster @inkysqueed

---

            “Someone escort this woman out of here,” he hissed.

            Stepping up beside her, Garrus gave a quick bow before offering an arm. “My lady.”

            “No not like that!”

[nulfaga]

It was mach-na!!!

"Imperials hate Dark Elves; Dark Elves hate Imperials. Imperials hate that a no-name Hlaalu trader got made into a count. Andel Indarys doesn't help his case by having a prat for a son, and a wife that dies in very suspicious circumstances. Our Dark Elves left Morrowind to get away from the Church and State, and they don't like it when Imperials get all holy and patriotic with them. Of course, local Dark Elves tend to be money-grubbing, alcoholic low-brows with little education or culture. Since I read a lot, and speak well, and don't drink brandy from milk pails, I guess I qualify as an Imperial. But on the whole, I like Cheydinhal's Dark Elves better than I like the Imperials, so go figure...."

i ran into some argonian lady in cheydinhal who like....i pressed her little generic "cheydinhal" dialogue option and she gave me this DIATRIBE on imperial/dunmer tensions and respectability politics and the shadiness of count indarys and id never heard it before but it was SO in line with the way ive built cheydinhal in the gemfic....crazy

[hannah-heartstrings]

The count suddenly stood up and he and his bodyguard just stared at each other for several minutes. I feel like they were having some sort of secret conversation, probably about the riff raff running around the throne room.

Bonus, here's a version where the glare from a lamp makes it look like the count's head is glowing like some Renaissance painting:

[artistic-lightcycle-tes]

Post oblivion crisis meeting of the guys

Andel Indarys: why are these meetings always so late I mean we are inside a dark castle anyway.

Janus Hassildor: Because I don't have time for this stuff but you people force me to come anyway

Marius Caro: you mean because nobody shall find out that you are a vampire

Janus Hassildor: What-?! N..no!

Regulus Terentius: calm down, Janus. Everyone here knows that and to be honest- nobody cares.

Janus Hassildor: ...

Andel Indarys: like Corvus being the grey fox for the last ten years

Corvus Umbranox: wha- how can you know that?

Andel Indarys: just figured

Corvus Umbranox: oh..

Marius Caro: Guys, what will we do about the real problem? We all have oblivion gate fragments in front of our cities, Kvatch is still not existent and there's again no emperor.

Janus Hassildor: So we just do nothing?

Andel Indarys: great plan

Corvus Umbranox: I agree

Regulus Terentius: saves money

Marius Caro: well, see you next week then!

[hannah-heartstrings]

13, 15, 20

13. An NPC you would cherish with love and care?

To the surprise of no one: Martin, he deserves so much more. And you can tell he isn't happy being treated as emperor. He seems trapped at Cloud Ruler and in his role, I want to give him a hug, make him some tea, and help him sneak out to Bruma sometimes.

Also I feel so bad for Baurus, he feels guilty for what happened to the last emperor, is determined to not let it happen again and I know what's coming. 😭 And he seems so sweet, he deserves better.

Also Garrus Darelliun, he's the best guard captain in the game, putting people above the law and his own pride, and he's treated the worst. He's stuck guarding the throne room for 15 hours straight, he doesn't even have a lunch break. Am I supposed to assume he eats while guarding or isn't eating? (Time for a Robin Hood HoK to kidnap him every chance she gets)

15. Favorite divine?

Probably Stendarr, I like the idea of a god of mercy.

And if your infamy is higher than your fame and you try to pray at their shrines the other gods say how they don't like you or how you break their laws and his says that the poor suffer because of your crimes, it sends a better message.

20. Favorite count/countess?

I don't know that much about most of them but Janus Hassildor seems cool, I like his aesthetic. I snuck through the castle just to see if I could (turns out I can!) and he has a secret throne room in a dark hall lined with firepits, this guy is so dramatic. XD

Also I love to hate on Andel Indarys, he makes a good target for my Robin Hood HoK, partially because of what I said about Garrus.

Thanks for the ask! ^_^