#here’s a kwama

[truth-01001001-liar]

So I’ve never needle felted before but uh? Kwama forager?

just on a whim.. idk that he looks good but he’s a kwama 👍

[julijbee]

in awe of the beauty of the world

[tastesoftamriel]

Talviel's Tamrielic Anniversary Banquet

In lieu of an updated jubilee cake for the 30 year TES/10 year ESO anniversary, here's a banquet menu fit for the nobility of Tamriel! Dig in!

Summerset

Soft Indrik cheese and caramelised onion and pear chutney vol-au-vents, with sundried tomatoes

Auridon Blue Monkfish, poached in Russafeld Heights chardonnay

Shimmerene cherry blossom snowskin mooncake, with an apricot mousse and lemon crème filling

Black Marsh

Crocodile dumplings, with a spicy peanut and sweet saltrice dipping sauce

Stormhold jerk kagouti haunch, with guar fat vegetable fried rice

"Kueh cendol" chewy tapioca rice cakes, with dark palm sugar and coconut milk and jelly layers. A Black Marsh specialty!

Valenwood

Wild venison Greenshade carpaccio, with whipped bacon-honey butter

Stone-baked timber mammoth tail, slow roasted for 48 hours with a honey and mammoth butter glaze

Frozen honeyed "bingsoo" yoghurt, with sweetgnats, candied bacon, and deep fried lard bits, drizzled with sweet condensed milk

High Rock

Alcaire smoked pea soup, with bacon lardons and fresh garden herbs

Flambéed foie gras à la Shornhelm, with a blood orange and goose fat reduction

Gorapple tarte tatin, with golden butterscotch sauce and Bantha vanilla bean ice cream

Morrowind

Smoked kwama egg yolk carbonara, with scrib bacon

Spicy Ashlander-style shalk and ash yam stew, served in a shalk carapace

"Baked Vvardenfell" guar milk ice cream and kwama meringue cake, flavoured with comberries and gold kanet flowers

Elsweyr

Old Anequina jerboa and "lap cheong" sausage pie, with a saffron rice and an ale-and-moon sugar gravy

Terror bird egg "foo yong hai" omelette, with an array of Pellitine seafood and a bhut jolokia moon sugar caramel dipping sauce

Frozen samar pekoe tea custard, with hot moon sugar fudge

Cyrodiil

Bruma barley soup, with homemade herbed sourdough foccacia

Barbecued Blackwood cavy, basted with a rich Surilie Brothers port and habanero barbecue sauce

Abecean sea salt, dark chocolate, and Cyrodiilic olive oil ice cream, with wild strawberry coulis

Skyrim

Markarth goat cheese and pine nut crème tartlets, with smoked juniper salt

Lake Honrich salmon steak, hot smoked over maple wood with Goldenglow honey, served with dill remoulade

Snowberry panna cotta, with spiced Whiterun apple-akevitt compote

Wrothgar

Echatere Gruyère and rosemary mini soufflés, with smoked Vorkhiposh roe

Echalette steak, served medium-rare, in a ginger wine jus

Kurog's wild berry chocolate gateaux, with whipped echatere cream and drenched in wrathberry brandy

Hammerfell

Port Hunding roasted red pepper and harissa hummus, with spiced lentil flatbreads

Spicy Alik'r giant snake tikka, with mint yoghurt dipping sauce and pickles

Coconut and medjool date kulfi, with a slice of rosewater and pistachio baklava

[vosh-rakh]

madstone, chapter 5

“I suppose that is my name,” the former god said with a tilt of his head. “I considered changing it, but the priests advised I didn’t. Would confuse the people more than necessary, they said. I suppose they’re right.”

He put a delicate hand on Kassur’s shoulder, who suddenly felt very small and embarrassed for his outburst. “You say my name with a curious accent. Are you Velothi, by chance?”

Kassur nodded. He didn’t think his accent was that strong. Maybe Vivec was just good at picking up on it.

Without removing his hand, Vivec looked up at Ku-vastei. “What brings you to my city, Hortator?”

“Trouble with the Ahemmusa,” Ku-vastei said. She raised and jingled the Madstone in the air. “We’re helping this lad get it sorted.”

Vivec leaned his face in to examine the amulet. “Interesting design. Dwemeri, I take it.”

Ku-vastei took a closer look at the Madstone. “Is it?”

“May I?” Vivec asked, hand outstretched. Ku-vastei tentatively handed the Madstone to him. “Yes, but of very ancient make. Likely fashioned prior to a law that standardized their more utilitarian style. A law passed long before even our war with the Nords.” He smiles sadly, his eyes seeming to look beyond the amulet and into the distant past. “This really brings me back.”

Kassur managed to catch a glimpse of the amulet in the god’s hand, his first real look at it since they retrieved it. It had a round blue stone engraved with a radiant eye, cradled in an inverted crimson crescent that looked like horns. 

Vivec then casually flicked the Madstone with his finger; a loud, clear tone rang out from the stone. Kassur instinctively covered his ears, even though the sound wasn’t necessarily painful. 

“Before they became atheists,” Vivec began when the sound diminished, “the Dwemer feared the Daedra. They lacked their later, more complete understanding of metaphysical tonality, but still vaguely knew the importance of fundamental tones. They crafted devices such as this to ‘scare away’ the influence of the Daedra.”

“Seems the Ahemmusa somehow obtained one and used it to keep Sheogorath away for generations,” Ku-vastei filled in. 

“Interesting,” Vivec mumbled, scratching his chin. “I wonder how it came into their hands. No matter, I suppose.” He looked again at Kassur. “I suspect whatever issue your tribe faces, this device is instrumental to its salvation.”

“We think so, Lord Vivec,” offered Aryon when Kassur didn’t reply. 

“Oh, please,” said Vivec with a dainty wave of his golden hand. “I’m barely a ‘Lord’ anymore. Call me a saint still, if you want. But I’m more part of the common rabble these days.”

Kassur somehow doubted this. How could a god become a mortal so easily? This was, of course, assuming he was ever truly a god in the first place, something Kassur’s people readily questioned. Regardless, there seemed something insincere, or at least unbefitting, in his stated humility. 

Moving right along, Vivec said, “Well, I suppose I’ll be coming with you.”

Ku-vastei barely suppressed a hiss. “That won’t be necessary, Vivec.”

“Oh, please,” Vivec said again, clasping his hands and stretching his arms in front of him. “I’m bored out of my mind here. Endless bureaucracy. And there’s only so many ways you can say, ‘Get rid of that rock in the sky.’” 

He cast a glance upwards at Baar Dau, which Kassur only just now noticed. It was indeed a giant rock in the sky, crawling with miners like kwama, bits of excavated stone falling into the water by the Temple canton. 

“Won’t leaving the city put its stasis in jeopardy?” Ku-vastei asked. 

“No, I can handle it from afar well enough, especially seeing as it’s quite a bit lighter these days.”

Ku-vastei swished her tail and scratched her chin. Finally, she acquiesced. “Fine. You can come. But not like that.” She made a gesture with her metal hand, dividing her face into two halves.

“Of course,” Vivec replied. “I can be discrete.” In an instant the gold faded from his right side, leaving him fully grey, like any other Dunmer. “Completely inconspicuous.”

“Fine,” Ku-vastei grunted. “Just don’t make any kind of scene. This doesn’t have to be a big ordeal.”

“As you wish, Hortator,” Vivec answered. Kassur was amazed by how easily Ku-vastei commanded the (former) god, and how readily he submitted to her whims.

“Let’s be on our way then, shall we?” asked Aryon. “We’ve got the better part of the island to cross.”

Ku-vastei shrugged. “We’ll just teleport to Sadrith Mora, take the boat to Vos, then walk the rest of the way to Ald Daedroth. Not too complicated.”

- - -

And it wasn’t too complicated. The teleport to Sadrith Mora (which Kassur handled even better than the last three, getting quite used to it), the walk across town, and boat ride to Vos, were mostly uneventful. But it was far from boring, as you might imagine, being a trip with a powerful wizard, the leader of a nation, and a god. To Kassur it went by in a blur; either Aryon and Vivec were in heated debate about the Dwarves, which Ku-vastei moderated, or the three discussed political matters so far over Kassur’s head in their import that he simply tuned it out and focused on not getting seasick. Gals Arethi kept a baleful eye on Kassur, but apparently the esteemed company Kassur traveled with kept him safe from the shipmaster’s wrath.

When they arrived, Sedyni the Vos shipmaster was not there. The four travelers stepped off the boat and glanced around. The nearby tradehouse seemed unusually quiet. Gals shrugged and sailed off back to Sadrith Mora.

“Where is everyone?” Kassur asked. At this time of early evening, the village was usually buzzing with activity.

Vivec closed his eyes. “The chapel is empty.”

“How could you possibly know that?” asked Ku-vastei, planting a metal hand on her hip. Kassur wondered about that brass gauntlet she wore – it was incredibly ornate, and had an air of being impossibly ancient and powerful. But he had no idea how to ask politely.

“I can still feel it,” Vivec said, opening his eyes again. “Most people still revere me as a god, especially this far removed from the official temple in my city. So the Tribunal holy places are still attuned to me.” Kassur had no idea what he was talking about.

Aryon was oddly quiet. In the short time Kassur had known him, he’d never acted like this; he was the type of consequential mer to always have something to contribute to a conversation. It was barely perceptible, but Kassur could swear he saw a slight tremor in Aryon’s hands. But Kassur couldn’t tell if it was fear…or rage.

“Aryon?” asked Ku-vastei. “Are you alright?” She seemed to notice the same thing Kassur had.

“Check on the village,” Aryon said, his voice dry. “I go to the tower.” And so he did, flying off fast through the air, much faster than they had in Vivec. As Kassur watched him disappear into the sky, he saw a dark cloud in front of the setting sun. Or…was it a pillar of smoke?

“This bodes ill,” Vivec said, frowning. “Kassur, stay close. It’s quiet, but I suspect danger.”

Kassur felt a sudden pang of guilt. He realized he was more like a liability to these powerful beings, someone they had to keep close and protected because he was so weak and helpless. He could barely conjure a flame, and didn’t know how to use a weapon. In a fight, he was worthless. He began to wonder why they’d brought him along at all. A sneaking suspicion told him they thought he would be useful only as a bargaining chip, of sorts. A sort of intermediary to help them accomplish…whatever grim task they meant to do.

The thought escaped his lips just as he thought it. “Don’t kill them,” he blurted. “If it is the Ahemmusa. Please.”

“Kassur…” Ku-vastei began, turning to face him. “That might not be –”

“You have our word,” Vivec interrupted, placing a delicate hand on Kassur’s shoulder. “No excessive harm shall come to your people.”

Ku-vastei scoffed, snapping her head towards Vivec to glare at him, but after a moment sighed and shrugged. Kassur wasn't sure if he could trust the word of the false god – or if the Nerevarine had any interest in going along with him. 

They proceeded towards the town walls, which were actually the backs of the tightly-crowded huts of the village, no space left between their rounded stucco corners. There were no guards posted at the gate, the town’s single entrance, and beyond them was still silent. Down the single street they could see that many of the doors were half-to-wide open, but there were no obvious signs of a struggle.

“Vivec,” said Ku-vastei, “take Kassur to check the chapel. I’ll check on the houses.” Vivec nodded and gently directed Kassur towards the chapel as Ku-vastei began picking her way from hut to hut.

Vivec and Kassur passed under the chapel gate into the meager courtyard. The small alchemical garden the two priests maintained there was not overgrown or choked with weeds. “They haven’t been gone long,” Kassur observed out loud. 

Vivec noticed Kassur examining the garden and nodded. “Good,” he said, smiling at Kassur. “Let’s check inside.”

The door was closed, and unlocked. But the chapel never locked its doors, not even when the priests were both asleep. Vivec cautiously pushed through the threshold, Kassur following close behind. “Hello?” called out Vivec. “It’s alright. We’re here to help.” 

There was no answer. The chamber within was nearly pitch-dark, only faint light coming through the stained glass domed ceiling. Vivec cast a Light spell for them to see by as they entered.

It was a mess. The Tribunal tapestries on the walls were torn to shreds, and the murals defaced with what Kassur hoped was paint; candles and torches were snuffed out; the prayer-stools were upturned and thrown about; loose ripped-out pages of books were fluttering in the breeze visiting from outside; ash and bones from the circular Waiting Door on the floor were spread across the room haphazardly. Kassur held no great faith in these things, but it still pained him to see such desecration of a holy place. 

“Be on your guard,” said Vivec stiffly. “In this state I fear I could not trust my divinity to tell if we’re alone. There is little holiness left here.”

Kassur’s muscles tightened. He still didn’t understand how Vivec could know such things. But if he truly was anything close to what he claimed – an ancient mortal-made-god, a living deity – then it was difficult to doubt him.

They slowly circled the Waiting Door, more carefully inspecting the scene, but there was no more evidence of exactly what had happened. At least there’s no blood, Kassur thought. He remembered his teacher, Yakin Bael, and said, “There’s a bedroom downstairs. We should probably check there, too.”

Vivec nodded in agreement, and led the way down the steps, his orb of magical light guiding the way. The priests’ bedroom was not saved from the sacking: pots and urns of various alchemical and cooking ingredients were overturned and cracked open; broken glass from shattered bottles littered the rug underfoot (Kassur was for once glad for his shoes, and Vivec hovered an inch above the ground); the desk had its drawers yanked out, scattering torn papers and writing implements, and its stool and tall candlestick were toppled; the privacy screen was ripped open; and the beds were torn apart, sheets and blankets strewn and split.

Vivec stopped to inspect some of the loose pages of sermons and notes on the floor. Kassur went up the short ramp to the beds to look more closely. He knew the bed on the left was Yakin’s – they had a few lessons down here, when the upstairs chapel was too busy and loud. He picked up a pillow from the floor, gashed open and spitting up dried wickwheat stuffing, and gently laid it back on the head of the bed. He knelt down, and quickly realized that under the pillow was Yakin’s spectacles, broken and bent at the nose and lenses shattered. He gently took them in his hands, careful of the jagged edges of glass, and stared at them.

Just as he was getting used to his new life in Vos, now it seemed to be ripped from him again. Even the only real friend he had among the housemer, his teacher Yakin Bael, seemed to be in some unknown peril. And, useless as always, Kassur could do nothing but follow along with the real heroes, who actually had power to do anything about it.

“Here,” said Vivec, startling Kassur from his misery. A second orb of light appeared, floating near Kassur by the beds. 

“Thanks,” said Kassur. Vivec smiled and kept reading a document in his hand.

Kassur looked back down, and something immediately caught his eye. Just under the edge of the bed was a bright gleam, reflecting the magical light above. Kassur slowly reached for the shining object and pulled it out. 

It was a short sword, still in its sheath; its metallic hilt had been catching the light. He removed the sheath noiselessly and beheld the glistening steel blade, sharp as the day it was forged. “Vivec,” he called, “he had a sword. Yakin, that is. And he didn’t use it.”

Vivec dropped what he was reading and floated up the ramp to Kassur, looking down at him and the sword. “Hm,” he pondered, tucking his legs up under him as he floated and placing his hands on his crossed knees. “Doesn’t mean there wasn’t a struggle. Those spectacles are broken. No blood?”

Kassur looked around again. On a whim he grabbed the pillow he had adjusted earlier and turned it over; sure enough, a small bloodstain seeped through the cloth case.

“Punched in the face,” Kassur suggested. “Nose bled, maybe broken. No other signs of a struggle, that I can tell.”

“Fair analysis,” Vivec said. “I don’t think there’s any other clues here. Let’s go meet up with Ku-vastei.”

Ku-vastei had just come back from the end of the street to the chapel by the time Kassur and Vivec came out. She was alone.

“I see you didn’t find any survivors,” Vivec said, frowning. “Any dead?”

“No,” Ku-vastei said. “No sign of any struggle. Everyone is just gone. What of the chapel?”

“We found no one, but the chapel was desecrated. The homes were untouched?”

“That I could tell, yes. Some doors were left open, and the breeze disturbed some belongings, but that was it.”

“Hm,” Vivec said, stroking his solid grey chin. “Perhaps they’re sheltering at the tower?”

All three turned west towards Tel Vos. The pillar of smoke was rising higher, and blacker. Without a word they began at a quick pace towards it.

- - -

Aryon had put out most of the flames by the time they arrived, but the damage had been done. There was nothing left of the Telvanni fungal roots of the tower but ash, even Aryon’s personal pod at its peak. The tendrils which had so integrated themselves into the stonework of the Imperial fort no longer held it up, causing several portions to collapse into charred bricks.

Ku-vastei and Vivec readied their spears (Kassur hadn’t noticed the god had been carrying one until now) while Kassur cowered behind the two. But it made him feel like a coward, so he tried his best to straighten his back, puff out his chest bravely, and at least put his hand on the sheathed sword of Yakin Bael, even if he didn't have the nerve to actually draw it.

Aryon knelt in front of a smoldering pile of bodies. It was hard for Kassur to make out in the carnage, but it seemed like a mix of guards, tower servants, and Ahemmusa raiders. He might have recognized some of the latter, if they weren’t all so horrifically burned.

“Master Aryon?” asked Vivec. “Are you harmed?”

Aryon turned his head slowly. There was no evidence of weeping on his face, but he looked like a man completely exhausted. Kassur understood the feeling immediately. “No,” Aryon said. “They likely went north before I arrived.” He stood and wiped his hands on his robes. “To the old camp. What of Vos?”

He’s held together by a thread right now, thought Kassur. There was a haunted look in his eyes. He’d just lost everything. Kassur could relate – although he’d ran from his old life, instead of having it torn from him.

“There was no one there,” Ku-vastei said. “No sign of a struggle, except that the chapel was ransacked.” She took a cautious step forward towards Aryon. “Are you sure you’re –”

The wind changed suddenly, and Kassur caught a big whiff of the corpse-smoke. He gagged loudly, covered his mouth with the collar of his robes, and fled towards a nearby wall. He planted his free hand against the stone as he tried to calm his retching before it grew into something worse. He could feel three pairs of eyes on his back, and he resented it. He let go of the wall and looked at his hand; it was completely covered in soot. The wall now had a relatively clean handprint on it where he’d stolen the blackness. “I’m fine,” he shouted, although the act nearly made him gag again. “I’m –”

There was a loud crack somewhere above him. He only had time to look up at the top half of a tower rushing towards him, but not enough to move out of the way. He closed his eyes.

Something hit him hard, but not at the angle he was expecting. The collapse was deafening, its roar of crumbling stone erasing all other sounds. When the sound had settled, Kassur opened his eyes. Ku-vastei had him in her arms; he could feel the cold metal of her right hand pressing into his spine through his robes. 

Vivec and Aryon appeared in the air above them, their feet glowing with pink light. “Are you two alright?” Aryon asked.

Kassur felt a soothing energy enter his body from the gauntlet, and he felt less sore from the tackle. “Yes,” Ku-vastei said as she stood up, lifting Kassur with her. “I’m fine, and he will be.”

Kassur caught a glimpse of Aryon’s face, wrinkled with worry, before it relaxed into relief. Then he put on a new mask, a mask of cold wrath. A cascade of facades to make Mephala proud.

“Good,” Aryon asked. “We need to go to the old camp and see if they’ve taken the citizens there.”

Aryon turned, and with a mystical wave of his hand, buoyed up the rubble in mauve smoke and flung it aside. “Come,” he said once the crashing din faded. “We have work to do.”

Suddenly, Kassur was terrified of Aryon – and for the safety of his own people.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Donut and champagne for both Josh/Erra and Josh/Sydari

Hellooo!!! This should be fun :3 🍩 | their favourite snack to eat together *An aside- after corprus Josh loses his sense of taste and doesn't receive hunger signals properly. He often forgets to eat and doesn't snack as a result. Josh x Erra The two travel a lot and Josh has a lot of food intolerances. Anything with Kwama or Dairy is out. This includes Nix-hound meat. Thankfully, the Ashlanders don't make a lot of use out of either (scrib jelly is used in alchemy but it's expensive). As a result, the main source of protein amongst the Urshilaku is farmed Guar or the odd hunted Alit. Fish can be affected by the ash from Red Mountain, so it doesn't appear in many Urshilaku dishes. Saltrice and whickwheat make up staple grains in the north. There's a dish the Ashlanders eat on special occasions that's similar in nature to Pilaf made with saltrice, guar meat and spices. It's meant for communal eating with a whickwheat based flatbread that's sometimes stuffed with the same spice mix. Josh eats like a bird, so getting him to sit and share a meal is a rarity. He will sit down for this. Erra takes charge of making most of their food. He likes a style of sweet fried dumpling coated in a marshmerrow syrup. He appreciates it when Josh shares some with him. Josh x Sydari Skyrim presents a lot of challenges food wise for Josh. Most meals involve cheese or milk as an ingredient and thats...not the best combination. Sydari usually takes charge when it comes to ordering food for the two of them. She usually orders Josh some sort of roasted meat or stew. Her favourite snacks are taffy treats but Josh can't really taste them. Sometimes when the two are having a rest day she'll pull together an assortment of cured meats, cheeses (on her board only) fruits and nuts for the two to snack on (usually whilst making use of the large baths that Sydari has in a few of her properties). It's best to get Geldis to cook. He's known Joshi's palette for 200 years. Joshi's comfort food is saltrice congee with guar floss and a liberal pouring of chilli oil. 🥂 | what would happen if they got drunk together

Josh x Erra Answered here but in short- boast battles until it turns into a sparing match which then turns into something else... Josh x Sydari

Josh is a functional alcoholic at this point and it's generally best to not encourage his addiction. However Sydari wasn't aware of this when she first met him. She likes to play drinking games and Josh likes to get into drunken brawls. The two don't mix well... especially when the two are trying to maintain the facade of "just friends".

Sorry...Josh is horny on main all the time.

[mostdream6977]

[AGE HAS CAUSED DAMAGE TO THIS DOCUMENT. MISSING INFORMATION IS NOTATED]

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Many apologies for reaching out unprompted. I felt inclined to express my more personal appreciation for your generous assistance this past Middle Yarr. The direction of aid has impacted my people immensely. I can assure you, the “over-production” of Kwama Eggs in the Southern Mainland you spoke of has proven quite popular with the youth here! Of course, we are expressing *moderation* with the mild paralyzing properties, but no matter. I walk among my people and am gifted with a look of hope, and better days. I hold this dearly, and know it would not be without you. Thank you, deeply.

In addition, if you would not consider it out of place. I would thank you for [UNINTELLIGIBLE]. I must admit, I am not yet fully equipped for the kind of diplomacy that is expected of me. I know practice is all that is needed, yet my words never seem to meet good faith or comprehension. [UNINTELLIGIBLE] your support was very warm to me, it is not a reaction I receive often. I feel as if those currently around myself are far too immersed within their similar struggles to be able to lend their ear to my voice. I do not blame them for the lack, but the individual attention was… sorely needed, to speak forthright.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

I do hope I can hear from you soon, Muthsera. All my best in the meantime.

High Councilor, Sixth House Dagoth

Lord Voryn Dagoth

[trickstarbrave]

Steren: And this would be our scrib. Inigo has taken to calling him Mr. Scribbles. Scribbles: *thumps happily* Nerevar: kinda long abdomen. Hm... Nerevar: *picks Scribbles up and flips him over* Scribbles: *confused hissing* Nerevar: ... Yeah, that's what I thought. Steren: What?? Nerevar: This would actually be a 'Ms.' Scribbles. She's female. Voryn: And getting pretty plump. She'll no doubt start pupating in about a year's time. Taliesin: Pupating?? Nerevar: Scribs are larval kwama. Females that can reproduce like Scribbles here leave their colony in search of food and a place to mate and pupate. In the wild they would find cracks in the rocks that are common in Morrowind to nestle in and that ends up being their new home. Voryn: Once they become kwama queens they can't really move. They have other kwama tend to their needs and care for the young. Lucien: Aw, that sounds kind of sad. Gal always loves exploring. Nerevar: They aren't really sad. It's just part of their life cycle. Most scribs tend to get eaten in the wild, but it seems like she's strong and resourceful. Voryn: Since she's so accustomed to people it wouldn't be bad to get a mine set up for her. Scribbles: *wiggles and hisses again at being held and inspected by someone she doesn't know* Steren: Shh, come here. *scoops her up* Vivienne: Could we still visit her? Voryn: *smiles* Of course. Kwama prefer being around familiar scents. Since she's known you for so long she'll be happy to see you and her colony won't attack you either. Nerevar: Kwama are very intelligent. I'm sure her and her new family will be glad to see you.

[ansu-gurleht]

fuck it here goes. so in the game morrowind, mostly due to engine limitations, the "campaign" against dagoth ur's forces on red mountain at the end of the main quest is kind of....underwhelming. it's just something one person does all on their own, and it's not even that hard. i think it should be a way bigger event than that.

in the 3e634 (a.k.a. "archmagister ku") timeline, it is an actual war between dagoth ur's army and the hortator's army, and it lasts over a month, not just a few days. the four main players in this timeline (ku-vastei, qismehti, llethym, and ashiri) all contribute their own forces to the war. roughly, here's what each brings to the table:

ashiri: - a loose coalition of mabrigash and rogue telvanni she was able to bully into supporting the effort, mostly guerilla attacks to support the main forces - a small army of trained kwama warriors (remember, ashiri is a pheromancer)

ku-vastei: - as many telvanni wizards as she could convince to leave their towers and support the campaign; technically led by master aryon - as many mages guild wizards as she could force to contribute; led by skink-in-tree's-shade - a force of reluctant ordinators gifted to her by vivec* - ku-vastei retrieved the profane tools sunder and keening, and took on dagoth ur's citadel, completely on her own.

llethym: - a coalition of hlaalu, zainab, thieves guild, and morag tong scouts, spies, and assassins, acting both as the intelligence arm of the campaign as well as being used to eliminate some critical targets, such as some of the lesser ash vampires and ascended sleepers - some imperial cult priests he was able to persuade to join as healers by reminding them of "brother malcius' valiant sacrifice for the hortator"

qismehti: - a sizeable force of redoran warriors and cavalry recruited from ald'ruhn and maar gan, which served as the bulk of the infantry and cavalry - as many fighters guild mercenaries as she could scrounge up - the combined forces of imperial forts pelagiad, moonmoth, and buckmoth** - a group of buoyant armigers which served as the elite "tip of the spear" of the infantry*** - the bravest warriors of the erabenimsun and urshilaku tribes****

side notes:

-* vivec declined to participate himself, perhaps afraid of another defeat at the hands of his ancient friend -** fort darius either couldn't spare the troops or simply didn't understand the gravity of the situation. the soldiers at ebonheart were left there, to protect the castle, the duke, and the port. the port at ebonheart was expected to be a critical supply line for the campaign, but only the mainland redorans sent anything and it did not arrive at ebonheart. this didn't prove to be too much of an issue, however, as vvardenfell's economy boomed during the war, and there were rarely supply concerns. -*** the buoyant armigers were spread rather thin during the campaign. some formed the "tip of the spear," and some assisted across the entirety of the effort. but many were left behind at ghost gate, prepared for the possibility of the dagoths somehow circumventing the hortator's line and escaping red mountain. another group was also stationed at kogoruhn, since ku-vastei knew that it was an access point into the red mountain region. -**** ahemmusa could not be convinced to contribute. they were kind of dealing with their own issues at the time in ald daedroth.

[aladaylessecondblog]

"Shoulder Angel"

Why me?

Sadara thought it as she watched the door open, and Dagoth Ur step through it and onto the tile floor. Once more he was given a towel, and she was able to question the situation. The only change was the deep red robe he was wearing, that had some fancy embroidery about the hem, and the same belt he'd worn before.

Just...why?

Well - she knew why this was happening, he thought she was somebody else, some Nerevar guy reincarnated. And Vivec apparently thought so too, if his bribe was any indication. It was all this Nerevar's fault in the first place, but in the second it was hers, for taking Vivec's money and indulging whatever in Oblivion THIS was.

Pffff...Vivec knows what he likes and knows how to use it. It's not my fault if it works.

Sadara gulped slightly.

Please tell me you're not Nerevar, she thought, And if you are please leave me alone, I don't need more people telling me what to do.

And so what if I am? Huh?

Sadara gave a sigh, and approached Dagoth Ur's table.

He crossed his legs. I hope you noticed.

She ignored Nerevar's input, brought up her notepad, and tried to speak in her best Customer Service voice, "And what will it be?"

There was a pause, and a feeling in the back of her mind like a dog bouncing on its feet in anticipation of a bone.

"Coffee to warm me up, for one." Dagoth Ur's voice was a bit slower, more deliberate. He shifted slightly in his seat, and the eyes of the mask were turned up to her own. "And a plain kwama egg omelette."

"Coming right up. Jiub?" Sadara looked over her shoulder, "Y'get that?"

"Yeah, I got it, won't take long." Jiub took a long inhale from his cigarette, and got to work.

Sadara moved to get the coffee, thankful to get away from that mask and the empty stare it was giving her. Even with her back turned she could feel that stony gaze. But, she told herself, there was nothing to be afraid of. If she was Nerevar reborn (and that was a BIG if, she put zero stock in prophecy nonsense like that), then the man wouldn't harm her. He liked Nerevar too well for that...

He DID care for me?

...so there was nothing to worry about, so long as he didn't make things strange.

"I didn't see any buoyant armigers on my way here," Dagoth Ur said suddenly, "And it makes me wonder why. They usually prefer this place to the imperial pancake restaurant on the other side of the Ghostfence."

"Well..." Sadara, who still hadn't forgotten getting that hand in the mail, said, "Well, after the last time, I can't imagine they're enthusiastic about...patronizing this place."

"The last time? What happened, hmm?"

He already knows what happened, the minx! I can practically hear the smile!

Shut up, Nerevar. Not that that's who you are.

Who the oblivion ELSE would I be? Do you hear voices often?

"Well," Sadara started, "Ah, one of them slapped me, you see..."

"And?"

Jiub finished the eggs and Sadara brought them over.

"And I got...a hand in the mail later. It was frightening," she said, "I mean--it must have been from one of them, maybe even the same one to do it. But...I was worried it was a threat."

"A threat? Why would you think--"

Well that confirms THAT!

Nerevar echoed Dagoth Ur's words, questioning why she would think it was a threat.

Why, I'd have loved getting a body part from my enemies! Tells me that they've been taken care of!

"Generally when body parts come in the mail, one takes it as a threat...regardless of how it was labeled."

A pause. She couldn't see his face, but his suddenly tense posture gave off every indication of surprise.

"I'm sure it wasn't meant that way," he said a moment later. Then, after another pause, and a slight tilt back of his mask so he could eat, he set to eating.

Sadara was relieved. Nerevar was anything but.

What are you doing? Say something to him! Tell him you appreciated the gesture!

I DIDN'T appreciate it! Sadara thought back, I don't know how they did shit back in the First Era but that's not how things work now!

Say something nice. Anything. You've hurt his feelings...

His feelings aren't my responsibility!

Look, be nice and you'll get good tips. Keep him happy and you'll get something out of it. Is that enough incentive?

Nerevar was somewhere between furious and desperate, and Sadara honest-to-gods could not have said which of them better suited his tone. The dog metaphor was ever more appropriate - it was as if he were scratching at a door, begging to get through.

Fine, she thought, Fine, I will.

She looked back to Dagoth Ur.

"Should I be worried about retribution from the buoyant armigers?" she asked, on noting he was done with his eggs. "I assume the gesture was meant to threaten them, now I'm...aware of what it wasn't supposed to do."

"I can ensure nothing happens," he replied easily, "If it's a concern."

"I'm able to defend myself against one or two of them, but several..." She took the plate, and on noting his empty cup took it to give him a refill. "Well. I suppose in that case I would need help. But I've always had Jiub around for that."

"The cook?"

The mask looked in Jiub's direction.

"We're not fucking if that's what you're thinking," Jiub called back, "I like about five things in life and fucking's not one of them. We just watch each other's back."

"JIUB!" Sadara snapped.

"What? We're not."

Now she WAS sorry, and she turned around to say as much. She was still half afraid of being the object of Dagoth Ur's anger. But on looking back at him saw the faintest line of a smile from what she could see of his lower face.

The bell above the door rang. In walked a couple ordinators, followed shortly by a somewhat stooped older lady Sadara didn't get a good view of, occupied with the coffee pot as she was. The cup was soon filled, and then pressed back into Dagoth Ur's hands, allowing the barest hint of skin contact as her fingers brushed absently against his.

Gods, it's been AGES...

Not NOW, Nerevar!

Isn't he wonderful? Nerevar questioned her.

In a semi-adorable wet cat kind of a way, maybe.

You are probably the first person to touch him that wasn't trying to kill him in literal centuries. I'd be like that too, if I still had a body! Well. I mean I felt it through YOU, but...it's just not the same.

Sadara moved away from the table quickly, and down to that of the older lady's. Only once she was up close did she realize who the woman was.

"Queen Mother Barenziah," she said, giving a bow and praying her tone was polite enough, "I trust your journey was...ah...not too irksome. Travel behind the Ghostfence is unpleasant at the best of times."

"Yes, well, we all make do...I can't imagine why anyone would want to live back here, unless they're a masochist, or don't have much of a choice in the matter."

"To what do we owe the honor of the visit?"

"Because the Waffle House in Mournhold is full of people who wouldn't know good food if it was spit in their face. I've not seen a good once since I left Riften and I'm hoping this one will be different."

"There's an IHOP--"

A scoff.

"--but we're pleased to have you here. Now what would you like to eat?"

Barenziah had rather a large order, considering her two guards - three All-Star specials; six capped, topped, and diced hashbrowns; three waffles; and four sides of ham.

"That'll take a little while," Sadara said, "I hope the wait won't irk you."

"I've got nothing but time, child." The woman smiled, briefly, and then asked for coffee for all three of her party.

The rain went on outside. Inside, the atmosphere was almost peaceful--certainly it was quieter than its usual. Sadara retrieved the coffee, and brought the three cups on a tray.

"I forgot to ask if you wanted anything with it, but there's a few packs of cream and sugar, and we have a few flavored syrups if you--"

"We prefer it black anyway," said both the ordinators at once.

"As do I. It makes things much easier, that," Barenziah said. She glanced over Sadara's shoulder. "But it looks as though you might be having trouble. Isn't that Dagoth Ur?"

"Yes, but he's...he's rather quiet. In a way," Sadara replied, and noting the presence of the ordinators once again, carefully adjusted her words, "He may be under the impression that I'm someone important to him."

One of the ordinators lifted his head. "Nerevarine?"

Instantly Sadara tensed.

"No, no, I want none of that here," Barenziah scolded her guard, "Really, does this woman look like she's about to claim she's that old Chimeri warlord? No? I thought so. Sit down, I want to have a nice breakfast, not spill blood on coffee."

Old warlord? I WAS KING--

Sadara ignored Nerevar's outburst, and nodded along as she listened, then said, "He's somewhat of a...regular, in a way. Seems to be interested in me, though I can't..."

"And what about you?" the question was asked almost in a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you think of HIM?"

"Well--he's obsessive, and pushy, but has the aura of a sad little man, and that's...honestly not as threatening as I've been told. He's almost adora--"

Barenziah reached up suddenly, and grabbed Sadara by the collar, yanking her down slowly to whisper, "Don't do it."

"Don't--do what?"

"Do not. Do it. Do not get friendly with the egomaniac who thinks he's a god. I'm warning you - that story doesn't end any way but with you figuring out you're less important than the gods-forsaken cause. It's not worth it. Whatever you're thinking about him - the posture, the glory, the body, just remember what I tell you."

"My queen, really, this isn't necessary," Sadara whispered back, "I think the worst he's done is make me laugh."

"You think that's harmless, eh? Just you wait. You laugh, and laugh, and then all your clothes fall off. Look at me, child. Look. At. Me."

Sadara, not having much of a choice, looked.

"Repeat after me. I will not let crazy put its cock in me."

"I will not let crazy put its cock in me," Sadara repeated, "It's never going to happen, alright? He does weird shit. It'd never work."

The fuck it won't! We'll find a way!

NOT NOW, NEREVAR!

The squeak of the bathroom door sounded off, and she was let go.

Dagoth Ur left after settling his bill and giving quite a good tip - and that same slight smile she'd seen earlier, when he finished the last of his coffee.

[caliblorn]

@equustenebris thank you kind stranger 😭 😭 here are TWO Revus for you

One of my fave moments with him for sure watching him carry that giant Kwama egg by himself 😭

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by my very kind and talented friends @skyrim-forever @elavoria @kookaburra1701 @ladytanithia @lucien-lachance @mareenavee @thequeenofthewinter

Tagging: @atypicalacademic @justafoxhound @paraparadigm @gilgamish @rainpebble3 @throughtrialbyfire @orfeoarte @sylvienerevarine @wispstalk @nuwanders @miraakulous-cloud-district @sheirukitriesfandom (tagging you for the new week heh) @flymmcargo

From Chapter 3 of Slither and Writhe. Sorry this one ended up being kinda long, but I really wanted to get to the necromancy bit cause necromancy ���� I have thoughts (thots) on it

The sigh that left Fathis was as weathered as a cliff face and mantled in as much dust as the specimen jars lining his shelves. It was the only sign of his true age beneath all that sorcery and elven blood, for truly no creature’s sigh could carry as much weight as that of a tired old man’s.

“So,” he said, a brow arched expectantly as he settled back into the chair. The leather squeaked as he shifted, and he lifted his glass to his lips, drinking down the sujamma with as much ease as spring water. Sylawen resisted the urge to wince. “Care to explain what you were doing outside my tower looking like a scamp dragged you in by the heels?”

“Not if it can be avoided.”

“Does your mother know that you’re here?”

“Well…” She attempted an innocent grin. Somehow, they always failed her.

 “Sylawen.”

“What? Why must she know? Perhaps I only wanted to stop by and say hello. I have two legs and a modest sense of direction, and really you should be happy anyone comes by these days. Place is an absolute dump.” 

Fathis hummed out a little chuckle, wagging his finger at her all the while. “Don’t think it’s not abundantly clear to me you’ve run off again. This must be, what, the fourth time this year? I thought the long summer of travelling was meant to dull that wanderlust.”

“Ugh, you and my mother both act like it’s an affliction. As if I’m some stupid dog hellbent on running headlong into a carriage.” Sylawen snorted, and Fathis tipped his head toward her, gave her one of those looks that made her feel as if she were bound by vellum instead of her own skin. “Well, I didn’t realize returning home meant I’d agreed to wear a leash.” 

“You slipped the collar on yourself, my dear.”

Sylawen’s stomach knotted. She tried to laugh it off, but there was too much scorn still lingering in her voice, and its echo scorched red at her ears. She could feel her smile beginning to quiver and swirled her sujamma in another circle. The whirlpool within looked suddenly inviting. 

“Another accident, was it?”

“Don’t say ‘accident,’ Fathis. I knew perfectly well what I was doing.”

“That’s what every young mage says before they blow the roof of their house.”

“Please,” Sylawen sneered. “That’s so rich coming from you. You and my mother and that blasted disciplinary board at the University, all wanting to act as if their entire beloved campus isn’t powered by necromancy. Every glittering little ring on their fingers, every augmented sword at their side. The marvelous feat of Dwemer engineering cooling the very room we sit in! Why, every one of the soul-gems that breathed magic into these enchantments is fueled by the life force of another being, and here you are scolding me about—”

“B’vhek, I wasn’t scolding you, Sylawen,” Fathis said very gently, a bit patronizingly even, but Fathis had an air about him that always made her feel as if she’d rightfully earned the reproach. Rude bastard. She looked away, cheeks aflame. “You forget where I’m from. The disciplinary board would shit their robes if they knew what I did behind Telvanni doors when I was merely a boy. Now enough whining. Come on. Finish your drink and let’s get you cleaned up. Seriously, I’m impressed. Just what hole did you crawl out of? I’ve seen cleaner Kwama in my days.” 

Sylawen slouched. “I wasn’t whining.”

“Up! Out! To the bath with you, and don’t forget to use soap!”

“Dibella’s grace, I’m not a barbarian. Of course. I’ll use soap.”

“And I really should let your mother know that you’re safe. I’m sure she’s absolutely frantic.”

Sylawen rolled her eyes. The note of paternal severity that he’d suddenly adopted never quite fit him, and she wondered what he was like when Savos was young, if he kept his grip on the leash as loose as her time with Savos had led her to believe. Of course, Savos never had to deal with his parents breathing down his neck. Then again, having heard the rumors of what was going on in Winterhold, perhaps somebody somewhere should be.

[truth-01001001-liar]

Did I plan to draw a kwama oc named Lleren that I came up with a day ago a bunch of times? No. But here I am.

[da3drat]

For the cute ship asks that you reblogged?

🍩 for Meri and Ayem?

🎨 for Martin and Celeste?

Tysm for asking!!🥳

🍩 | their favourite snack to eat together

Ayem presumably doesn’t need to eat (I think?) and Meri doesn’t eat much so I think it would be tea snacks. Flaky pastries, fresh fruit, mini kwama egg quiches, etc, all shared over a hot cup of tea in the courtyard<3

🎨 | their favourite activity to do together

Uhhh sleep. They spend a lot of time passed out in a heap on that table in the entry of cloud ruler temple. Its always “you NEED to sleep” “ok well YOU need to sleep” and then boom. Sleep pile.

Also Celeste likes to drag Martin out into the stable when it seems like he hasn’t seen the sun in actual weeks. He doesn’t like it at first. Doesn’t like horses in general and Celeste’s horse is mean asf. But after a while he warms up to it.

Questions here

[tastesoftamriel]

Hello talviel! How do the cuisines of the Morrowind great houses vary from another? does ashlander cuisine vary from house dunmer cuisine?

House Redoran

Redoran cooking is slightly heartier, featuring dishes like Hound and Rat pie or Crab Meat and Scuttle. As a major force on Raven Rock, Redoran cuisine places a lot of emphasis on easily available ingredients, such as fish, horker, and ash yams as opposed to the more traditional varied ingredients of mainland Morrowind. Mudcrab and fish stew with saltrice, ash yam and kwama egg fritters, and horker roast with comberry jam and fried ash yams are some of the dishes you'll find dining with a Redoran.

House Telvanni

House Telvanni is known for its exquisite cuisine based around nourishing herbs and roots. Infused with all sorts of alchemy I'm not privy to (and never will be), every Telvanni kitchen boasts whole cupboards of mysterious spices and herbs with special flavours and properties. Double-boiled gingko chicken soup, nix-hound braised with dried comberries and ginseng, and saltrice congee with sliced fish and pickled ginger are typical dishes you'll find in mushroom towers. Canis Root Tea adds a nice touch to any Telvanni meal too, especially with a bit of sweet marshmerrow!

House Hlaalu

Hlaalu food is always satisfying, and utilises more foreign ingredients than other Houses due to their success in trade. While staple meats and vegetables like nix-hound and hackle-lo are still on the table, Hlaalus are just as likely to have goat or even beef. Dishes would include kwama egg pie with a butter (as opposed to scuttle) crust, fried saltrice with pork and Hammerfell spices, and braised abalone and hackle-lo in Pellitine oyster sauce. And of course, Balmora Cabbage Biscuits, stuffed with nix-hound and spiced cabbage, are the ideal Hlaalu travel snack.

House Indoril

Standard fare for House Indoril is very much traditional Dunmeri food as we know it, which comes as no surprise due to their political leanings. Based out of Mourhold, the House consumes less seafood than others on coastal or island Morrowind, due to their relatively inland location. Kagouti and guar are the most popular meats, making pulled kagouti stew, guar meatball and scuttle gratin, and steamed scrib cabbage stuffed with minced meat standard fare.

House Dres

As is to be expected, House Dres meals are primarily based on saltrice. Whether it's saltrice crackers, bread, porridge, or straight up steamed saltrice, this is the House that has figured out everything imaginable that you can do with the plant. Fried saltrice with crispy scrib, saltrice soup with ash yams and trama root, and kwama egg omelette stuffed with spiced saltrice are delicious meals you'll find as a guest at any Dres farm.

And while it shouldn't be mentioned, it should anyway. You can read more about Sixth House cuisine here.

You can also read about Ashlander cuisine on p. 20-23 of my compendium.

[venacoeurva]

Oh yeah more fun facts about Wren while I’m thinkin about him here but mostly in-game or early stuff:

Was originally a girl Khajiit with the same name in MW who was also the Tower sign, but then the game crashed and lost playtime and I was also dissatisfied with the skills setup I selected so just went WELL OKAY. Plus, I’d always played as a Khajiit every time in the past and just kinda ran through the races and features until I got an idea for a character

The middle part hair and skinny beards looks for male Dunmer made me think of 00′s boy bands so intensely, so I kind of thought of Wren like an ex boy band member but now with fantasy classes so he was also an assassin, thus the charisma and expressive body language. He has no significant actual musical background, lore-wise but if you ever thought he looked like he belonged to a 90s-00s boy band as the kind of shady flamboyant pretty boy who has definitely done coke now you know why lmao

I didn’t really know how much I jived with him as a character, but then he randomly got 10,000 health when he hit level 12 and that was so funny I was like “okay that’s great I love you”

I remember talking about this but idr if it was an IM or ask or what, but his robe is based loosely off the teal/purple extravagant robe, specifically poisonmirror. I thought the dark rich colors didn’t work well for him, and he would want something easier to move in. Also I think he ate like, bread, glass, and A (1) Kwama egg in the entire game because I didn’t bother with alchemy mostly. I think he drank Flin and Sujamma like maybe 5 times.

I went into the 2nd dagoth fight with like 4 restore stat potions. I may be stupid. Wren lost like 4,000 health BUT he won, so. Also he had max speed that was fortified then fortified MORE so nyoom nyoom ye towering golden cunt

[spoonmagister]

Extreme Prejudice

I was going to the most confusing place in the world and I didn’t even know it yet. Way down Azura’s Coast, to the end of the Telvanni isles, the path like roots that led straight to Therana. It was no accident that I got to be the caretaker of the wizard lord Therana’s clothing any more than being back in Sadrith Mora was an accident. There is no way to tell my own story, without telling a bit of hers.

The looming fungal tower of Tel Branora rose out of the sea like a great living lighthouse. Yet this beacon did not signal safety, but rather chaos. It was easy enough to ascend given my magical talents, yet comprehending what I found inside was more challenging.

Scamps in various states of life and death were strewn about the chambers. Large kwama eggs were arranged in patterns, stuck to walls, and rolled across the floor endlessly. A wooden table hosted a perfect circle of eggs around its perimeter. Curiously, I was unable to grasp these eggs, both physically and mentally. The guards seemed to not know where they were posted, and — by my assumption — no one here was actually in charge.

A bewildered-looking Bosmer wandered the halls, and approached me as though he wanted me to ask him a question. I did.

“Could I..speak with Lady Therana?”

“Hey, mer, you don’t talk to the Lady. You listen to her. She’s enlarged my mind. She’s a poet mage in the classic sense. Sometimes she’ll…well, I’ll say ‘hello’ to her, and she’ll just float right by. She won’t even notice. Suddenly she’ll grab you, throw you in a corner with telekinesis and she’ll say ‘did you know that SPY is the first sound in SPIDER?’ I mean I’m not, I can’t, I’m a little mer. I’m a little mer and she’s a GREAT mer! I should’ve been a set of glossy legs skittering across floors of silent eggs…”

He glanced up a levitation shaft before losing his balance and falling onto an egg.

“No, no, no, no, no, no…It should’ve been me. This isn’t how the egg is supposed to crack, mer.

***

Therana, the Telvanni lord, was at once imposing and unassuming. Her chambers were simple, yet chaotic. A small fireplace consumed a pile of books while a naked Khajiit watched in silence.

Therana brushed her robes back with her hands, and then spoke before I could introduce myself.

“Did they say, Trerayna, why they want you to terminate my command?”

“I… beg your pardon,” I asked, attempting to not appear confused.

“Classified, is it? They didn’t tell you?”

“They told me you requested new clothes, and that your methods were… unpredictable.”

“Are my methods unpredictable?” She blinked in a way that seemed to make noise. Behind us, an egg casually rolled down the hall towards the levitation shaft. Moments later, the Bosmer began wailing again.

“I don’t see any methods at all, my Lady.”

“Are you an assassin? Are you here to feed the spiders?”

“I’m a mage and Telvanni Retainer, and I’m looking for answers.”

Therana grasped the wrapped clothing from my hands via telekinesis and flung them onto the ground by the Khajiit. His pupils widened.

“Answers? I have answers for you. Did I say answers? I meant eggs. Same thing really. Good girls can’t have spiders for pets, Therana. Good girls can’t answer questions with eggs, Therana. Thats what they said, and now they’re gone.”

I may appear unsound for not walking out of Tel Branora immediately. But what I was beginning to understand, and what I believe few others do, is that the occupants of this reality live and act according to unseen scripts. It was clear to me from the start that Lady Therana possessed no such script. This is why I did not walk out, and this is why I took the path I did from this point onward.

“I will not say these things, Lady Therana,” I said barely above a whisper. “I do want answers.”

“Good. Wait! You’re not that fool, Trerayna Dalen, are you? She’s waiting outside to kill me. I won’t go out there anyway, so it is no problem. My guard captain won’t stop talking about it though. He is a too-tall mer, like you. He’s covered in armor, but you’ll see him on account of him being too tall. Perhaps you can help him deal with his problem. Then perhaps we can talk as friends-who-are-spiders talk to their spider friends.”

I bowed my head slightly, and as I began to withdraw from the room, Therana called out to me once more.

“Have you seen my Cat? My Ra’Zahr?”

The Khajiit behind her unsuccessfully attempted to become invisible.