#house sotha

[almsivislay]

i found this while trying to tell my mum about saddam hussein and she was wondering why i was cackling

[sleepymarmot]

Chronometer of the Tribunal You may place the Chronometer in your home. Watching the dial spin causes local perception of time to shift. Until the Chronometer is disturbed, time stands still. Enjoy Sotha Sil's morning sun, Almalexia's mid-day mercy, or the star-spun night of Vivec.

[hydropyro]

This is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I’m howling

[rzpotato-blog]

Voryn Dagoth

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Divayth Fyr: Centennial check up. Have you gone crazy yet?

Sotha Sil: You think I haven't?

Divayth Fyr: I had a hope.

[one-winged-dreams]

It's so pretty ;_;

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 19

"And there you go. Enjoy yourself."

Jiub handed over what looked like a rolled-up piece of pumpkin-stamped plastic wrap to a Dunmer that quickly left.

"And what exactly was that?" Nibani spoke up, having just come out of the bathroom and noting this gift.

"It's the Witches Festival. I'm giving things out."

"That wasn't a child asking for sweets OR a beggar asking for alms. Was that moon sugar? Skooma, maybe?"

"It's weed. Half my customers are Urshilaku...I'm not seeing the problem here."

"The problem," Nibani huffed, "Is that you're doing it from behind the counter. Do that outside if you have to do it at all."

"In this weather?" Jiub gestured toward the exit. An ash storm had kicked up, and looked to be turning red. "If Sadara were still here I could have her do it. Girl wouldn't catch anything, what with having corprus and all."

There was a brief rush, and for the next half hour they didn't have the chance to talk.

After a chain of waiters and waitresses, Nibani had finally been unable to find anyone willing to work the night shift and had taken to doing the duty herself. It had her in none too good a mood, despite the drop in Sixth House related customers. Jiub figured she'd be happy about that, but there'd been more ordinators too, and they were a fair sight more troublesome.

"And when are you going to put on a shirt?"

"Huh?"

"I said, when are you going to put on a shirt?"

"It's my costume!" Jiub protested with a laugh, "I'm one of those weird Sixth House dreamers."

"Really? That's not only lazy--"

"But also blasphemous, yada yada yada." Jiub finished his cigarette and went to trying to scrape up a patch of burned in egg on the grill. "It couldn't be less of a problem. Maybe focus on finding someone that actually wants to work at night?"

"Were you always this snotty?" Nibani grumbled. "Nobody wants to work this shift and deal with the ordinators and cultists anymore."

"And the skooma heads, don't forget about them. You chased off the only person that did. Congrats. Could've had the big man in a better mood, and Nerevar too, but--"

"Nerevar?"

"Yeah, he was by looking for..." Jiub stopped as another couple people showed up. One was dressed as a Telvanni mushroom and the other as a guar. He handed them each a little wrapped up chunk of weed, gave them their orders for waffles, and then went back to the grill. "Anyway, I don't think he's doing the prophecy any more than Sadara was, considering he's currently shtupping the Sharmat."

He nearly dropped the spatula when he heard what she said next.

"What is it about this man that makes Nerevar and his incarnates act SO unwise?"

Not for the first time did Jiub thank his lucky stars that the idea of sex had no power over him. If Dagoth Ur was that much a rizzmaster they might all have been in danger if he'd any interest in anyone unconnected to Nerevar.

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

"Dwemernet Executive Support, what's your thousand gold per hour problem?" Sotha Sil paused when there was shouting on the other end. "No, your inability to run a team full of bots in Team Fortress 2 is not my problem - yes, you are paying for service, but your disconnect is your own fault."

Another pause.

"Would you prefer to have no access at all?"

Again the sound of shouting on the other end of the call.

"That's not a threat, Dagon, it's a promise." Sotha Sil finished the sentence and moved over to a monitor to the side of his main and largest one. "Choose your next words carefully."

Incomprehensible shrieking.

"Oh," Sotha Sil's voice was momentarily breathy. "Look at that. You just lost access. I'll be sure to let everyone know of Oblivion's dwemernet outage...which I estimate will last at least a day."

He mistyped when there was a particularly loud shout and his headset went to speakerphone.

"--and AFTER I finish pissing out the fire I set to what's left of Ald Sotha, I'm going to build a NEW shrine on top of it and--"

Sotha Sil typed again, and fixed the speakerphone. "I am ending the call. When you feel as though you can behave with decorum and dignity, I will be available to take your call."

He ended the call, and blocked the number's further attempts to get him back on the line. The extinction burst ended only an hour later, and Sotha Sil amused himself in knowing that the daedric princes' policy of self policing would take care of this problem.

The Coldharbour Compact was very mysterious for a reason - for who would believe that the one thing to keep them from crossing over was the threat of no longer maintaining the labyrinthine complications of running the Dwemernet to all planes of Oblivion?

Sotha Sil set the line to Do Not Disturb and left the room.

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

It seemed to be the one day a year nobody minded people wearing an Indoril helm, so long as they were the designated color that ordinators didn't wear...so that was what Sadara had done, with one slight addition - a Spirit Halloween shirt. It felt appropriate, considering. Nerevar's influence here and then not here, replaced with something else.

No, she just didn't want to spend much time or money on a costume when she was too old to really enjoy it anyway. Or at least, too old to enjoy it the way kids did...well, that and not really knowing anyone who would get her into a good party. There were some here in Mournhold, sure, but...

Eh, do I really WANT to go to a party, though, considering what happened at the last one?

Barenziah was done with her for the day, though, so she went out with a handful of gold pieces and a small bag of candy, handing them out to any beggars or children that asked. The night was a bit chill, so she decided to head down to one of the shops and get a coat.

Wow, she thought. A coat. A NEW coat.

Coat purchased, she went back out and stopped at the newstand. Maybe if Barenziah was so fond of those cigars from Black Marsh, she ought to try them too. A single one wasn't THAT expensive...

...that was her thought, anyway, until she saw her own face on one of the gossip rags and THE DAGOTH DIVORCE.

She huffed. "Divorce, there was barely a marriage to begin with!"

Despite knowing it was probably a bad idea, Sadara decided to buy one and read what was being said inside.

She realized almost immediately that she should've listened to her intuition.

A sad story indeed, this particular marriage. After a courtship that would make most heads spin, a whirlwind romance for the ages, a heart lies in ashes. One can hardly expect the Sharmat to behave decently, but this disloyalty to a bride no doubt in awe of the charisma that won him her hand is a new low.

Sources say that the demon of Dagoth's decision was prompted by Saint Nerevar's revival, being that it was him who held the--

Sadara crumpled up the magazine, threw it into a trashcan next to the newstand, and headed back without even getting the cigar she'd meant to. What in oblivion WAS that, and why was she being portrayed as some sort of lovestruck waif? Why was it she saw or heard about this so often?

New rule, she thought, No more looking at magazine headlines. No looking at Morrowtwitter, not that I was going to anyway. Just go to work and play the lute and maybe pick up another new hobby. Make sure there is never even a remote chance of a thought occurring.

She stayed out a bit longer, though, making sure to hand out the rest of the candy to a couple kids that passed by and on a whim the gold she'd intended to spend on the cigar too, before heading back to the palace.

Sadara practiced in her room with her lute for an hour and, in a turn entirely unlike her, fell asleep at a reasonable time.

At least asleep she didn't have to deal with any of this nonsense.

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

egg of time chapter 5 part 2 is live finally

[sneakygreenbean]

uhhhh its snippet tuesday.

Pearls were the gem of House Sotha, easy to find in the kollops on the riverbank. No other House had quite the shine, quite the dusty pink hue that Sotha pearls had. They were embroidered into the Sotha finery, embedded in every wedding ring, and decorated every mantlepiece in the lost town of Ald Sotha. 

He did not know who this string belonged to, but he would have it. He would take it, even if it belonged to one of the other survivors. It was his house. It was the only thing left. He saw his face, the features of his mother, reflected strangely in the flat silver beads. 

His proud house was now a flawed pearl necklace he wore under his clothes. But it was enough. 

His fragile heart beat ever on.

[coldharbourcompact]

Redundant to buy a whole ass statue of Seht to put into your ESO house you once upon a time spent an embarrassing amount of money for?

Maybe.

But have you considered that I'm.... gay?

[truth-01001001-liar]

I was given a small plant pot and the power of paint markers today. So of course me with my elder scrolls brain rot draws the tribunal and the sharmat sloppily on the sides.

[hydropyro]

This is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I’m howling

[khizumet-e]

okay so there is a range of characters in canon with identical clan and house names (voryn dagoth, sotha sil, presumably nerevar mora for a while) and while i have thoughts on why those each chose to go by what, here‘s on why it‘s thalthil dres but one generation later it‘s dres khizumet‘e

simple option, they‘re not father and son but uncle and nephew (with khizu being of clan velas, see this)

more involved option, while they are father and son, they came to fame in very different circumstances. before thalthil went and broke with the deshaan clans conglomerating into house indoril there was simply no house dres as a concept. while in practice they were akin to  a powerful minor house with a number of clients, clans were still the go to. so with houses being some northerner fashion, calling himself dres thalthil over thalthil dres would have been silly. now after the schism, thalthil actually tried going round as dres thalthil because he is a contrarian asshole, but because he was already acquainted with most people of note, and because the nordic invasion lead to the dres withdrawing into full isolationism, it just didn‘t catch on

now khizu, being already named after the previous two grandmasters, once again got stuck with thalthil‘s name related pettiness. which one could argue was becoming important, because there were both indoril dres and fuck off with your concept of houses and leave me in peace dres. given that those branches were living in relative obscurity (or having died out by khizu’s day in the second case) it is still a stretch. but if you really want to make sure everyone remembers that yours is a great house, you go around placing the emphasis on house name over clan name. even if both are the same

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Dagoth Ur: The Tribunal may judge me, but their sins outnumber my own.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 17

Sotha Sil told himself he returned for the calming influence of the winds, not the opportunity to see that man again. The blight winds, despite what they represented, despite what they meant, were a pleasing sound to the ear if one happened to be safely indoors.

There was no reason to want to see such a cantankerous, impudent, tease of a man. There was no reason he SHOULD want to.

And yet...

And yet when he called for eggs and saw that smirking face turn in his direction, when he saw that smug look deepen, there was a flutter in his chest

He hated it.

It made no sense. This man was hardly worth noticing at all, why should the turn of that head, the smirk on Jiub's lips, affect him so?

He managed to stay silent until the eggs (turned an uneven number of times) got to his table.

"I suppose you're currently enjoying your place at the top of the leaderboard?"

"I never check the leaderboard," Jiub said, "You mean Showdown, right? I didn't think there was one."

"Of course. You don't take the game seriously." Sotha Sil poked at the yolk of one of his eggs with a fork. Runny, of course. He decided to say nothing. Surely Jiub was waiting for him to make a comment about it. The man WANTED to start a fight. "I assume you do not wish the top position for yourself."

"Eh..." Jiub shrugged, "I'd LIKE it, but I'm not out here trying to make it my fulltime job. Looking at how serious you take it..."

"A mer must defend his position at the top."

"It's fucking POKEMON, it's NOT that serious. It's not like it's your life's work, you know, that little city you've spent so much time on."

"A mer should strive for excellence in all areas of his life."

"Yeah, no, I'm not about that when it comes to gaming." Jiub gave a laugh and handed over the coffee that had been ordered next. "I'd rather raise my blood pressure and destroy my heart the old-fashioned way...with skooma."

"And you wonder why you're only qualified to work at a Waffle House." Sotha Sil huffed. He finished two cups of coffee before speaking again. "Does the idea of death while inhaling skooma not occur to you?"

Jiub shrugged, and flipped the waffle he was working on again, then handed it to the waiter to take to somebody at the corner table. "I could die anytime. Makes it exciting...there's not a whole lot going on to look forward to, so why not risk it all?"

"I'm sure your family disagrees."

"Don't have any."

There was a lengthy silence.

"No family? Not even a cousin?"

"Not a one." Jiub looked up and shrugged. "I got somebody who might miss me, but..."

"...but if they heard you were gone, they wouldn't be very surprised."

Another long pause. They looked up at one another.

"You sound like you know."

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

Nerevar had retreated from the tomb while clutching a small chunk of bone and sporting a red spot on his cheek from the sound smack of mother Dagoth's sandal against his face. It had only been luck that she'd told the rest of the family not to attack him--well, that and his promise to fix the situation.

Then he'd looked about and found Zebabi - finding that Sadara had not even used her name there, but instead given a word meaning 'no name.' The argonians and khajiit didn't trust him, didn't want to say where she'd gone, but after a small bribe one of them said something that made a chill go down his spine.

She'd gone to Mournhold with Barenziah.

And as he headed back to Red Mountain with a little bag of things Sadara had left behind he asked himself - why, oh why, would she go to Mournhold? Didn't she know Almalexia was there? Didn't she know the danger she was in? Didn't she know what could happen?

Maybe she didn't, or maybe she didn't care. Or maybe she was just there to distract herself...who knew. He would head down there, he told himself, just as soon as he'd kept his promise to bring the chunk of bone back to Red Mountain.

When he came back Voryn was waiting.

"Well? Why is she not with you?"

"She wasn't there. She'd already left." Nerevar sighed, and started emptying the bag. Receipts from Tel Fyr, a couple empty potion bottles, used spell scrolls. At the bottom was a crumpled picture he unfolded. "Oh, I remember this..."

The shot of Voryn and Sadara, clearly post-nuptial, with such smiles that Nerevar took a moment to bask in the warmth it produced. She'd kept it, even after understand who it was. Until this point...

"I didn't even know there was a picture," Voryn half-mumbled and looked down at it. "Well...we can fix this. It WILL be fixed."

"You're damn right it's going to be fixed!"

An angry female voice sounded off then, and Nerevar stiffened.

"Oh--uh, Voryn, I...I forgot about something. While I was looking for her, I--uh. May have--"

"You FORGOT!"

Nerevar dug the chunk of bone out of his pocket, and offered it to Voryn. The moment it was in his hand a ghostly woman materialized before them.

"VORYN DAGOTH, I HAVE NEVER SEEN SOMEONE SO ILL MANNERED IN ALL MY LIFE! You get married and you don't even bother to bring the young woman to meet your family? And no--I don't want to hear that you were drunk!"

Instantly Voryn's posture changed. Nerevar watched with an odd mixture of embarrassment and morbid fascination as the Sharmat, the harbinger of blight and corprus, the man most feared in all of Morrowind, stood like a scolded schoolboy with his head bowed and his hands behind his back.

What a time to be alive.

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

Mournhold wasn't bad.

Sure, there was Almalexia's continued overtures of 'friendship' mixed with a hearty dose of doubt cast in the direction of the Dagoths, invitations she ducked, citing her job with the Queen Mother. Sure, there was that creep of a playwright that showed up in Barenziah's orbit sometimes, around whom her hand always seem to sneak up to cover her drink.

But it wasn't all that bad. It was better than when she was younger and she had to deal with danger anyway, but this time there wasn't any need to worry about making enough money to survive.

And the job was actually pretty good. Barenziah didn't seem to want to keep company with too many people, so helping her "entertain" wasn't that taxing. A few ladies of various Houses might show up now and then, and there was a slight look down on her, but that snobbery was nothing compared to what she'd heard in the past. They seemed to overlook her rather than outright insult her - that, one of the other palace servants said, was the benefit to serving others. Yes, you were looked down on, but people would often forget you were there. There was freedom in it.

She wished she could have that freedom, honestly. Barenziah's guards would give her the side eye now and then--their presence made the day to day awkward, to say the least.

The days passed roughly sometimes, but they did pass. She avoided leaving the palace when she could, tended to the lute lessons she'd gone in for (Barenziah seemed to like the idea, said it would give her something to focus on that wasn't the situation at large), and overall tried simply to exist without thinking of what had brought her there.

It didn't always work.

She took a spot in a side hallway of the palace, and practiced the first song she'd found on youtube, over and over, while Barenziah was busy at dinner. Her fingers ached, and as she repeated the tune again her mind started to wander.

There was no reason it should have hurt so much. She barely knew V--Dagoth Ur, why should this mishap be painful? Then she thought of what she could remember of that night...the looks she did remember. The smile that would be on his face when she turned one on him, the way he'd clung to her.

She'd never had someone look at her like that before. Sure she'd dated, sure she'd had a few rolls in the hay, but no one had ever looked at her the way he had.

But it was a lie. It was never YOU he saw.

And that was it, wasn't it? That it wasn't her he saw, it wasn't her he wanted. Surely if Gilvoth were wrong or speaking for him, surely if he had actually liked her, he would have come back to the Waffle House before she'd left it. But there'd been nothing...and he had Nerevar now, so...

"Where is my mother?"

Sadara looked up suddenly and stiffened when she saw Helseth.

"At dinner, she said she didn't require my company. Your grace." She gave an awkward bow. "I can go back to my room if I'm, ah...disturbing you."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," Helseth said, "You are in her company so often I saw you and wondered why she would be standing back here."

"Not plotting against you. She loves you too much for that." Sadara forced a brief smile. "I'll...get out of your way."

She scuttled off, feeling his eyes on her until she rounded the corner of the next hallway.

Helseth disturbed her, in a way she wasn't entirely sure of. She felt he expected her to produce a knife and attack him at any point.

Well, at least his paranoia made sense.

[igorlevchenko-blog]

Clan-friends, House-brothers, Chimer, LEND ME YOUR EARS! I come to bury Captain, not to praise him! The evil that mer do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Nerevar. The noble Ayem Hath told you Captain was ambitious: If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Hortator answer’d it! Here, under leave of Seht and the rest– For Seht is an honourable man; (So are they all, all honourable men)– Come I to speak in Nerevar’s funeral. He hath brought many captives home to Resdayn Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill: Did this in Captain seem ambitious? When that Ald Sotha fell, Nerevar hath wept: AMBITION should be made of sterner stuff! Yet Vivec says he was ambitious; And Vivec is an honourable man. You all did see that on Red Mountain I thrice presented him a godly heart, Which he did THRICE refuse: WAS THIS AMBITION?!