#not fully a khajiit speaks but it's a lot of it

[devout-of-the-elder-scrolls]

Molag Bal in my worship

As a preface for anybody not familiar with my blog - I believe the Daedric Princes are generally either misrepresented or only represented from one side of the debate within TES canon (that they are more than just evil, cruel, dastardly beings that want humanity to suffer). This falls especially true for my worship of Molag Bal. I do not take TES canon lore to be infallible worship canon. This post also comes from my own personal perspective and experience with Him, so… UPG.

This post will probably be one of my most "I do not agree with TES canon". Other than maybe my actual guide to Molag when it finally comes around and my other Molag related posts. If you're looking for a post about worshiping a super close to canon Molag Bal, I'm sorry, but you won't be finding it here.

Very long post below, I rambled a lot.

So, let's get the nitty gritty out of the way. In TES canon, Molag Bal is essentially literally the worst of the worst. You can tell this from the most basic of His titles.

That's not really my Molag Bal. How is that so?

Let's go over my general belief systems.

I believe the TES Gods existed independent of the fiction before being input into the fiction. I've got an older post talking about this in depth, but the main thing to know here is that this is kinda like how people take the Abrahamic God and make Him pure evil in fiction. Why do they do that? Why, it's entertaining as all hell!

Think about it. Isn't it so much more entertaining in fiction to have that pure evil dude? If every god in TES was tame and kind, then the God situation wouldn't be as interesting, at least in my opinion. Part of what makes TES as games and series so great is the inclusion of deities that aren't exactly the best. It's also part of what I love about the Princes in my worship, that they aren't always "nice" and "kind" or whatever way you wanna put it, even if I believe they're a lot nicer than they actually are portrayed in TES fiction.

I admit as well that I believe that Molag may have been misrepresented as well. Who is to say that some dude didn't just have such an intense bias against the Princes, and decided "Fuck it. To keep people from worshiping them, I'm gonna make this one dude the worst of the worst!" It happened with plenty of real world deities, where they got re-written and re-framed as a lot more evil than they actually are or were originally. This could have happened both in-universe and in the writing of the fiction. (Not saying the writers of TES the series necessarily didn't want us to worship them, but they probably didn't consider it'd ever happen at the least.)

That's not to say I believe Molag Bal isn't capable of evil. He very much is. He's more prone to leaning to harsh things, tough love, and a lot else than my other guides are.

So... who is Molag Bal?

This will sound extremely counterpointed to TES canon lore, because it really is lol I'm willing to admit that, but He's a man who protects from abuse and harm. He's always been so enraged with my stories of being abused and harmed, in such a way that doesn't seem fake or just some evil plot to make me worship Him. I firmly believe that if I asked Him to enact vengeance for me, He would, gladly.

He claims, at the very least, to hate bigotry and discrimination. He stands up for my gender for example, and seems to be genuinely sympathetic when I get misgendered.

He is strong, powerful, and grand. He doesn't tolerate bullshit or fucking around, doesn't tolerate cruelty towards those who don't deserve it. He teaches me to be strong and grand, to defend myself against any and all harm that might come my way.

Many of my lessons on how to defend myself come from Molag. He teaches me Daedric Magic to help me protect myself, He puts His power into my protective sigils and spells.

When I'm crying about my traumas and pains, it's often Molag who comes to me and lets me metaphorically cry on His shoulder.

Whether or not Molag agrees with His canon counterpart in any way is lost on me. I don't know. But I do know that if He was all-powerful, if He had the choice, He'd never let me come under harm in any way. It still happens sometimes, for He's not, but I appreciate the effort.

Maybe it's true that Molag only does this as I am a follower and a devout worshiper of Him and His name. It's possible that He really is that vile to others, and I do admit I sincerely hope not, especially with my guess that Molag got evil-ified by canon lore for some reason.

This is the Molag Bal I know. The Molag Bal I worship. And I, for one, think He's pretty cool and worth it.

You may ask... "why did you start with Molag Bal?" Which is a great question, because I too worried that He was actually That Bad. So I asked another guide of mine (not TES, amazingly going by what this blog is) what They thought of Him. And I was told a lot of the above, plus just general positive-leaning reviews, if not at least neutral.

So I was going into my worship of Him already believing that He wasn't that bad, even though I will admit I did have my apprehensions because of what canon says about Him. I will never deny that TES canon is extremely brutal and dark when it comes to Molag Bal. There's no denying all of that, nor the triggering nature of it, which was a turn off to me in the beginning.

You can also argue that I'm not really worshiping Molag Bal because the Molag I know and worship is so... different than canon Molag. For me, with my beliefs, I don't really see it that way, but I'm not really gonna blame anybody who does see it that way. That's fair lol!

I wanna end this post with... if you've been harmed by Molag Bal, or anything of that sort, I am genuinely sorry. I don't know why it happened and won't pretend I do, and I won't pretend that my version of Him and the side I see of Him erases what happened to you, because it doesn't.

You can block me and move on with your life if that makes you happy. I'm not gonna preach that you need to forgive and move forward, and absolutely not that you should return to His worship. Do as you need to heal.

[alien-witch-fangs-rp]

Aster E. Aethelweard

Sexual orientation: demisexual biromantic

Pronouns: He/Him

Gender identity: Transmasc

Age: Varies, rarely younger than 19 nor ever older than few centuries

General height: 6'2

Hair: Usually White

Eyes: Red

Species: Varies depending on AU

Generally personality/details: hard headed, soft hearted. He can be very teasing in nature either out of affection or cruelty. He can be quite insecure and can be insensitive, tries not to be. Smart but an idiot. Too curious for his own good sometimes, other times just stubborn or anxious. Mostly stubborn.

Has a sensitive to spirit and malevolent entities.

Usually has a scar through his left eye, a nasty scar over the centre of his chest, and missing his right arm. Prosthetic replacement or not, depends in au. Sometimes has a cat named Hades or a dog named Memoona, rare occasions both

Always necrophobic

AUs:

General ones:

Earth Bound Nov, Classic: ((Novs are my own species, and I am taking time to write all the details)) he's a shapeshifter with a temper, he prefers/tries to be left alone. But, sometimes he gets too curious for himself and pokes around at anything. He vision isn't fantastic, using his power of plants to at least get an idea if he doesn't have an itch to draw near yet.

Blessed by the forest god

Techician: human, usually 19yrs sometimes 23yrs old, he's a bit more cocky to hide his insecurities. He's not very boisterous and his sense of danger is a little on the uncaring side when it's over his safety. Others he gives more of a shit over and will do his best to defend even at his own risk.

Forest Prince: Usually 19yrs to 25ish yrs old, he's reckless and trying to separate himself a bit from his kingdom. Mostly from his parents' choice in men for him, he loves his people and wants better for them.

After they pass, he pursues it more vigilantly.

Has the least scars, with only having the scar in the of his chest and sometimes the one through his eye. Vessel for the forest god

Day Walker: age varies greatly. Semi classic vampire, sometimes pure blood but daywalker or half breed. His safety means nothing, he's not quite reckless but he will risk himself. He hunts other vampires, has little interest in giving most of his kin kindness. Used to humans not liking him and doesn't really have vested interest in changing that.

Sea Witch: a tiger mershark of undetermined age, hot tempered as a self-defense thing. He doesn't like having people near him, will refuse to speak on occasions. He prefers to be by himself but will sometimes allow others into his life. For the most part he's just interested in doing his own thing and working on his craft.

He might help others if asked but it comes at a price.

Replacement: he's an android of a sort, doesn't obey the laws of robotics. He doesn't have a lot of memories besides little pieces of a human life that he can't fully tell if it was his. He just knows that nobody owns him and he will be pissed if someone tries. He is disobedient and prickly.

Death God: despite the title he does more than deal with death and spirits. He is of familial love, magic, and nature. He is more of a guardian and guide, quite gentle and somber. He is very compassionate and though he sees the world and the happenings in it, he has a draw to be among the living. Sometimes giving himself a mortal body out of that draw.

Side AUs:

Selkie!, cursed prince (3 storylines), Merc!, Khajiit, Werepanther, Phantom, Muted Tech, Coma Spirit Tech, Haunted Suit, Shuttlebound (nov), Homeworld (nov), Ghost Hunter, Witch, Forest Farm (maybe neko, depends), Cafe Neko, Researcher (scp or others), Naga (godly and regular naga), Zoroark, werewolf, etc. ((I'm a nightmare to myself, I will make more))

[padomaicocean]

Free to Good Home - Part 2

Tsiyuzi has been alone on the streets of Riften since her parents passed away. Luckily for her, some members of a local crime syndicate have hearts of gold.

I forgot to post this here, also avaible on AO3

Part 1

Brynjolf carried Yuzi into the pub, the door banging shut behind them. Several pairs of eyes turned to look at them curiously. Yuzi met all of them carefully before hiding her face.

Within the bar sat a Redguard woman, a blond Imperial, a bald man, a Nordic barkeep, a large Imperial man and, and a pair of Dunmer. They wall watched with great interest as Brynjolf continued towards the bar, setting the Khajiit down on a stool by the counter. Yuzi looked around nervously, locking eyes with the Dunmer who studied her carefully. She quickly turned away looking up at Brynjolf. He smiled, giving her a pat on the head.

"Vekel. Can I get something for the lass to eat?" He leaned on to the bar, speaking to the other Nord.

Vekel met his eyes with raised brows, shrugging his shoulders as he turned to grab some bread and cheese for her. "I assume it's going on your tab?"

Brynjolf grinned. "Aye. Thanks." He stood up and looked down at Yuzi. "You just sit here and eat, alright? I need to ask a favour of someone."

Yuzi slowly nodded watching him walk towards the blond woman. Yuzi turned back as a plate was placed in front of her. Vekel looked at her with mild interest, meeting her blue eyes. He gave her a soft smile and Yuzi slowly smiled back at him.

"Thank you for the food, sir!" She said earnestly, reaching out to eat the cheese and bread. Yuzi winced as her sore wrist twinged. She lowered her hand reaching out with the other to bring the cheese to her mouth.

Yuzi heard a curious hum from behind her but shrugged it off. She began to eat ravenously, quickly finishing the cheese and reaching for the bread.

"Slow down, kid. Food isn't going anywhere."

Yuzi lifted her head in surprise, meeting the eyes of the blond Imperial. She pulled out the stool sitting next to her. Yuzi slowly returned to munching on the bread, watching her new companion carefully.

"My name is Vex. Brynjolf tells me you're called Yuzi?" The woman smirks watching the kid nod along while eating, keeping her gaze fixed down at the food.

Vex studied the way the small Khajiit was eating. "Yuzi, is your hand bothering you?"

Pausing, the Khajiit turned to look at Vex then down at her other arm. She slowly nodded and Vex prompted her to hand her arm over. Yuzi set the food down and let Vex take hold of her arm gently, studying her wrist. The Imperial gave a hum, her brow furrowed.

Reaching into one of the pockets attached to her vest, Vex produced some ointment. Gently she rubbed Yuzi's wrist while she watched with interest, wincing slightly as the cold ointment met her skin under her fur. The woman gave a hum finally releasing her wrist.

"There. It's just a bruise but that should help the pain a bit." Vex smirked at the Khajiit who studied her wrist in wonder and then looked at Vex with a wide smile.

"Thank you!" She turned back to her food, peeking at Vex as if expecting her to step in and then began to eat again in earnest, eager to finish her meal.

By now most of the guild was watching closely, curious about the apparent stray Brynjolf adopted. Yuzi paid no mind, too focused on her first meal in days.

As she finished, Vex finally spoke again. "You smell like a skeever. Come on, let's get you cleaned up with some soap." She stood up reaching a hand out to Yuzi, who grabbed it gently, hopping off the stool. "Devlin. Don't follow us." The Imperial sent a glare towards the bald man at a far table, who rolled his eyes.

"I ain't got no interest peeping on you and the cat."

Vex sneered, "good, make it a habit." She looked to Yuzi and began to guide her back through the Cistern.

Yuzi looked back at the bar worriedly, quickly spotting Brynjolf speaking to the two Dunmer. He looked up and waved at her with a smile. Yuzi waves back, her worry not leaving her as Vex guided her out of sight.

Vex continued on taking her back to the ladder that led back to Riften. Yuzi looked at it warily and looked at the Imperial.

"Wait here." She wandered away to some of the beds, searching through a chest before producing a small satchel. She walked back over to Yuzi and gave her a nudge. "Up you go."

The Khajiit frowned looking up the ladder and then back at Vex.

"I'm not kicking you out. Now come on. You stink and need a bath like no one's business." Vex rolled her eyes, nudging her a little harder.

Yuzi shuffled forward grabbing the ladder and slowly began to haul herself up with careful steps. At the top she bonked her head and let out a whine, pushing the door she hit her head on up and open. She crawled out, dragging herself through the mud into the secret entrance.

Vex had quickly climbed after her and snorted at what she saw. "Good thing you're getting a bath since you're looking a little muddier somehow "

She reached and pulled the chain so the plate above them moved back. Taking Yuzi's hand she guided her out into the open air, slowly taking around to slip out the front gates of the city. She continued down the main road, guiding them past the farms towards a quiet, unpopulated part of the lake surrounding Riften.

Stopping on the shore, Vex set down her satchel and slowly stripped out of her clothes reaching for Yuzi. "Come now. Take your clothes off so we can get you clean."

Yuzi slowly pulled her dirty tunic and pants off, while Vex grabbed some soap and stepped into the cool water. Yuzi slowly wadded after her crouching into the water. Vex slowly began to scrub some soap on her hands and across Yuzi's face. Removing the muck and grime that had built up for the past few days.

Vex smiled softly as the grime was slowly but surely washed away. She continued rubbing soap through her hair. "You have a lot of hair you know… More than just the fur."

Yuzi blinked in surprise as Vex finished cleaning her off. "Okay dunk down to rinse. I brought some new clothes so let's change and head back. "

Yuzi nodded dunking under the water to rinse any left over soap off before following after Vex. She changed into the new clean clothes and shook her hair out. The Imperial laughed and pulled out a brush from the satchel.

"Alright. Come sit down here." Vex patted her lap as she sat on the beach. Yuzi padded over taking a seat on her lap, relaxing as Vex pulled the brush through her long, curly hair. Yuzi began to purr, fully content.

Vex smiled, brushing gently. She examined Yuzi's light flame point fur, and long brown hair with wonder. She never would've guessed that a grimey homeless kid would clean up like this.

As she finished, she took notice of Yuzi's continued purring but also the droopy eyes. She gave a snort. "Up you go kid. You still gotta walk back."

Yuzi nodded slowly, standing up and reaching for Vex's hand as she was guided back into Riften. They slipped in just as easily, making their way back to the Thieves Den with no issues.

Brynjolf was waiting for them as they descended the ladder. The two Dunmer chatted with him while he waited. He turned as Vex hopped down the ladder and snagged Yuzi as she got closer, looking like she was about to pass out and tumble down.

"Sorry, Dubhyn, Ribyna. I'll put the little one to bed. We can continue later." He nodded stepping over to Vex. He studied the orange Khajiit and smiled. "Well. Looks like someone is ready to sleep."

Yuzi gave a slow nod, reaching her arms up at Brynjolf. He blinked in surprise before smiling and scooping her up into his arms. He carried her over to one of the cots, lying her out and pulling the blanket under her chin.

Yuzi blinked up at him drowsily. "Thank you…" she mumbled, yawning and closing her eyes.

Brynjolf smiled, brushing hair off her forehead. "No need, lass." He patted her head with a firm gentle hand. "I put your things in the chest at the end of your bed okay? Sleep well."

Yuzi nodded again, barely awake anymore as she drifted out to sleep comfortably and safely for the first time in days.

Brynjolf smiled down at her, slowly rising to his feet and walking away to take care of business regarding the Guild's newest member.

[ladydaedra]

Road to War

Part: 5/?

Pairings: Ulfric x Dragonborn; Brynjolf x OC; Cicero x OC; Ondolemar x OC

Summary: After leaving Windhelm, the group travel to the headquarters of Ayla’s rebellion.

Warnings: Descriptions of violence and gore; Skyrim takes on a bit of ‘Game of Thrones’ feeling; May contain controversial themes.

Wordcount: 1921

-----

Xaliyah sits atop of her dark brown stallion, Caper, as they navigate the road through the Pale. She brushes a strand of her hair out of her face and glances over at Brynjolf, who sits atop his palomino horse. She quickly looks away when he begins turning his head towards her. Instead, she focuses on the road ahead and at the signs of another snowstorm.

"Should we make camp?" Xaliyah suggests, looking over at Ayla who is on her black stallion, Paladin she named him. The Dragonborn glances up at the sky before replying.

"We have a few hours of daylight left and the storm will most likely miss us," she explains, giving Xaliyah a quick glance over her shoulder, "the base isn't far from here anyway. We might make it in time,"

"What exactly is this base you speak of?" Brynjolf questions from beside Xaliyah, staring ahead at the two in front of them, "is it a cluster of tents or a hut in the woods?"

Kharjo lets out a laugh as he rides is painted mare, "a group of tents or a hut couldn't hold an entire rebellion," he explains with another chuckle, "do you think Ulfric Stormcloak or General Tullius has their soldiers living in tents in the forest?"

Xaliyah bites back a laugh as she glances over at Brynjolf, who seems unamused by the Khajiit's remark, "of course not," he says, tone annoyed, "it's just that you two never really properly described this base of yours,"

"You'll see it soon, I promise," Ayla speaks up, "it's unlike anything you've ever seen," she adds before they return to a comfortable silence. Xaliyah stares up at a flock of birds as they find a tree to rest on, chirping noisily amongst themselves. Two squirrels hop in the snow as a rabbit chases another rabbit. This is such a peaceful moment and Xaliyah knows she should enjoy it while it lasts. This may be the last peaceful moment for a long while.

"Here we are," Ayla says after another hour of traveling. The sun is starting to set, but the entire group could see the looming fortress in front of them. It was obviously dwemer made, given by the dwemer's infamous architectural style.

"It's dwemer," Brynjolf says softly after a few moments of staring at the building.

Ayla chuckles, "that it is," she replies, "it used to be a ruin, but we rebuilt it in a few months time, trying to keep it similar to its original form,"

It's massive. Built literally for a rebellion. Xaliyah grabs hold of the reins as Caper tosses his head, a frightened neigh leaving him as he takes a few steps back.

The source of the horse's nervousness shows itself as it flies above them, letting out a loud roar, causing several flocks of birds to fly off. The group watches as the dragon lands on the roof of the base.

"Shall we?" Ayla asks, urging her horse forward and the group follows. Xaliyah looks over at Brynjolf to see him giving her a questioning look. She shrugs in response before urging Caper to gallop forward to catch up to Ayla and Kharjo.

~

"What do you think, lass?" Brynjolf asks her from the doorway to her new room for the next year or so, "is it everything you hoped for?"

Xaliyah takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her brown curls as she sits down on her bed. The room is pretty large, a fireplace against the main wall surrounded by a few chairs. A window shows the snowy mountains surrounding the base.

"It is different," she replies, meeting his gaze quickly before looking away, "less familiar than the cistern, but I can get used to this," she adds with a small smile.

"Definitely a lot more fresh food than what the Flagon offers," Brynjolf says with a chuckle, one Xaliyah returns. As much as she likes the Flagon and enjoys spending most of her free time in the small tavern, the food wasn't always as fresh as it was in other establishments.

"I am so going to tell Vekel that you said that," Xaliyah threatens and watches as the redhead lifts an eyebrow, a hum leaving him.

"Not if I can stop you, lass," he challenges, his mouth slowly forming a smile as Xaliyah stares at him, eyebrows raised as she processes his challenge, "I don't need Vekel taking away my ale when we get back,"

Xaliyah rolls her eyes as she stands, "even if you do stop me, I can still prohibit you from drinking ale as well, lad," she responds, arms crossed and a small smile on her lips. Before Brynjolf can reply, a new voice joins them.

"Sorry to interrupt this...moment," Ayla says, peering around Brynjolf, who still stands in the doorway, "but we have business to attend to," with a smile, Ayla disappear back into the hall and Xaliyah sighs.

"Right. We're at war, not on vacation," she breathes out, mainly to herself as she opens her eyes, "there is plenty of things that need to be done before we get back to Riften,"

Brynjolf pushes himself off of the doorway, "I need to go finish unpacking my things," he explains, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder and out the door, "I'll come to find you two when I finish," he adds before walking out the door, revealing a smirking Ayla leaning against the doorway, playing with an arrow.

"What?" Xaliyah questions as she walks out of the room and past Ayla, who turns around by rolling onto her right shoulder before pushing herself off of the wall and catches up to her friend.

"You and Brynjolf," she says and Xaliyah closes her eyes. She knew this conversation would happen the moment Ayla interrupted, "you finally talk about your feelings? It was getting pretty hot in there,"

Xaliyah sends her best friend a glare as they walk, "of course not," she says with a shake of her head as they round a corner, "we were just joking around about me telling Vekel to forbid Brynjolf any alcohol, that's it,"

Xaliyah can feel the Dragonborn's gaze on her and knew that her words didn't end the discussion, "it wasn't joking, more like teasing," Ayla responds as they near a set of grand doors leading to somewhere important.

It is then that Xaliyah realizes that there are a bunch of soldiers around them, not escorting them of course. Most groups are mindlessly walking and talking while others are jogging with a general is yelling commands at them.

"You let your soldiers train inside?"

Ayla glances at the jogging group and shrugs, "it's a massive place," she explains as she pushes the doors open, "they get a lot of exercise and stay out of the bitter wind and freezing temperatures outside. It's a win-win,"

"I see," Xaliyah says softly as she follows Ayla through a vast library. Scholars walk around, each with a book or two in their hands. Several sit and study the writings while others are busy putting away their books or finding new ones to study.

"Ah, Ayla, good to see you've returned!" a voice says and Xaliyah looks forward to see a High Elf woman with white hair, unlike her fellow High Elves. She had a cheery expression on her face and her white colored pupils shine, "I have heard that your mission to ally with the Stormcloaks was successful. Definitely helped with the moral here,"

"Thank you, Asteria," Ayla says as they begin walking through the large library, "how have things fared here since I've been gone?" the elf, who wears her hair in a messy bun with curls falling out of it, follows Ayla.

"The soldiers remain strong and fit and ready for battle," Asteria informs the woman, "Vilkas has made sure of that. The wizards here have trained long and hard to learn their respective skill. Plus we continue to learn about various lost treasures scatted around Skyrim, each one with the potential to aid our cause should you find one,"

"Thank you, Asteria," Ayla says, coming to a stop in the middle of the library, "and have you received any news about Athena or Tal?"

The elven woman shakes her head, "I'm sorry, but no," she says before her gaze lands on Xaliyah, "I see you managed to talk the leader of the Thieves Guild to fully join the Rebellion,"

Xaliyah shrugs, "when the home of your base is under Imperial control and lead by a power-hungry woman, it tends to give you more reason to fight," she explains and Asteria smiles before a scholar approaches them, whispering something into the elf's ears.

"I'm sorry, but something important needs my attention," she says, returning her gaze to the two women, "one of the destruction class mages set a training room on fire. Again," she then turns and rushes off, following the scholar.

"Who is she?"

"Asteria," Ayla explains, "the headmistress of the College of Winterhold. Very knowledgeable in every subject of magic and, with the help of the College's librarian, has a book on every subject known to man,"

"How did you manage to recruit the Thieve's Guild, Dark Brotherhood, the Companions, and the College to your cause?" Xaliyah asks, shaking her head as they begin walking to the other end of the library again, "do you bargain with gold? Horses? Weapons?"

"Freedom, Xal," Ayla interrupts, "I promise them with a life of freedom. That and we're friends with their leaders, well, I am anyway," she opens another door and this leads to a room with a long table and in the middle is a map of Skyrim.

"This is where all our planning will be taking place, I assume," Xaliyah observes, glancing around the lit room. There are no windows in the room nor any chairs surrounding the table. Bookshelves line the walls and adorn a few books on each shelf. A chandelier made of metal hangs over the table with eight candles on it. Stone makes up the walls, ceiling, and floor of the room.

"Every single plan we make will be made in this room," Ayla confirms as she walks over to the table, "soon Athena and Tal will be here and we can begin our assault on the Thalmor," Xaliyah watches as Ayla smiles at the last part.

"You really want them gone, huh?" she asks the raven-haired woman.

"Of course I do," Ayla replies, standing up straight, "they have caused too much pain and suffering to the people of Skyrim. That needs to end,"

"Is this justice you seek or personal vengeance?" Xaliyah questions the Dragonborn further.

"Both," is her reply, "I will not hear anything else on this subject," Ayla adds before walking out of the room and back into the library, "Athena and Tal should be here tomorrow and that is when we plan our next move against the Thalmor,"

Xaliyah nods in understanding as they walk back across the library, "with a base like this that holds a large army, we might as well attack the Thalmor headquarters directly,"

Ayla shakes her head as they walk out of the library, "we'd lose," she explains, leading Xaliyah down the hallway, "the Thalmor are masters with magic. Most of my army would be dead before we pass the walls,"

"Then how do you expect to win this war?" the thief asks and the woman beside her smiles.

"Time, strategy, and the fall of an Empire,"

[strigital]

The Elder Scrolls VI wish list:

In-depth character customization with tons of options: everything from colors of both inner and outer iris to height and voice.

Player character origins. I want a choice between having completely blank origins, so that I can create my own backstory, or choose between a couple of existing ones, which will affect the gameplay in the long run. Like if I choose to be an Outlaw at some point a team of bandits instead of attacking me will give me a quest, or if I decide that I want to be a Noble, then aristocratic NPCs will recognize me as one of their own and as such I’ll have easier time gaining their trust.

A well working physics engine, so that we can have realistic flowing hair, clothes that move in the wind, horse’s mane and tail that swish realistically when it gallops, etc.

At least some environmental objects being destructible: rocks falling to pieces after getting hit by a stray fireball, enemies getting thrown at certain walls, that crumble and crush said enemies, bridges that can be brought down to cut off the path, locked doors that can be destroyed with a few swings of a maul. Just let me annihilate piles of crates and barrels like other games do, damnit!

Player character being a physical presence recognized by the game world, such as grass swaying when I walk through it, my feet leaving footprints on snow and sand that look different depending on whether I’m barefoot or not, seeing all the little rocks being kicked about as I run on gravel, and piles of dead leaves doing the same when I run through them, dust and small debris falling from old wooden structures as I step on them, etc. Basically, feeling like my body isn’t just a ghost running through the lands without leaving a trace.

Ability to combine spells with each other or the environment for various effects, like they did it in Divinity Original Sin 2. I want to be able to throw a lightning bolt into a puddle and electrocute all the enemies stood in the water, or throw a fireball at a barrel of oil and cause a platform to collapse under the force of an explosion and kill the archers that were on said platform (again about the destructible objects), or cast an ice spell on water, so that the enemies slip, fall and get stunned. If such a mechanic is not full of potential for some ridiculous and hilarious situations, then I don’t know what is.

Unique companions with backstories and personalities, likes and dislikes, goals and agendas. They can also be romanced by ANY player character, no matter their sex/race/other traits and the romance progression is close to a real life relationship, with ups and downs, jokes and arguments, sexy times and break ups.

Let me have a squad of my own. Two or maybe even three companions at once. They also have their own relationships and opinions about each other. They chat, they argue, they flirt, they rant about being forced to travel with that jerk, they get overprotective towards the player if they’re romanced and hear the other one catcalling the player, they share their opinions, give the player advice on the current situation, they each have their own comments about places and other NPCs and they may or may not see eye to eye on those opinions. Let there be drama in true “party of DnD adventurers” fashion!

Also Dogmeat-like animal companion, who can travel alongside other companions and do stuff like sniff out enemies, find goodies, do tricks, duplicate items, grab items from containers with master locks on them... You know, the usual Dogmeat stuff.

Mounts other than horses. I want to see Redguards riding their camels, Khajiiti caravans with senches, Nords putting bears under the saddle. If horses are still the only rideable animal, then I want variety and customization: lots of breeds to choose from, individual armor, saddlebags and cosmetic items, ability to name a horse and have it come to the player at a single whistle. Also, Shadowmere. TES 6 won’t be the same without that demonic horse.

At least one friendly dragon. Because I need more of Paarthurnax.

More active Divines. Daedric quests are fun, no arguing there, but I’d also like to go on a holy quest bestowed upon me by, say, Akatosh himself, not some old prophecy. Also Divine relics to counterbalance Daedric artifacts.

More stuff to kill your time with. Games at taverns, visiting brothels, betting on horse racing or participating yourself, watching street performers and so on. I want to take part in the same entertainment the inhabitants of Tamriel do, damnit!

More alive, realistic world. If there’s a war I want to see hanged deserters on a tree, if it’s autumn I want to see people throwing harvest festival parties in their towns and cities, if it’s a plague outbreak I want to see corpses, sick people and hear church bells... Again, the Witcher 3 did it, now I want all of this grungy, dirty, realistic shit in the next TES game!

Tons of dialogue choices based on the player character’s skills, traits, race, sex, affiliation with factions, etc. I want NPCs to react to the character in a dynamic way, so that each new playthrough with a new character is fresh and inexperienced before. Let them Nords throw sexist comments at my Dunmer lady, let the Khajiits deny information to any other character that is not a Khajiit, let my bulky Nord fellow get discounts at the bar and my Imperial guy in fancy clothes get into the royal palace way easier that an Argonian in a hood would. I want to feel, see and hear that NPCs know and react to my character in a realistic way, so there are more challenges, interesting moments, secret dialogues and hidden quests only available for a certain character that made certain choices. Let the next game be the true definition of RPG!

Khajiits and Argonians having animal-like legs that they had back in TES III Morrowind. Please.

Longer and more complicated guild quests, so that even joining the guild requires time and skill, let alone progressing through ranks. And don’t make me a leader of each and every faction! Make me a second in command or a high ranking official with new perks and armor as a reward. Don’t make me the most overpowered mortal in Tamriel again, because it’s getting old fashioned.

Some sort of an ability tree, which allows you to tinker and make bombs, traps, contraptions and other awesome goodies that’ll make any combat a wild party.

Good third person animations. C’mon, Bethany Esda, I know you can do it.

Voiced protagonist. If not fully, then on the Divinity Original Sin 2′s level, where the player character does not speak in dialogues, but has voiced comments when interacting with certain objects or entering a location, etc. Or just add an option in the Settings menu to turn on or off player character’s voice.

Ability to hide that ugly ass helmet with a single click of a button, without being forced to choose between showing my awesome hairdo to the world and +5 to Armor Rating.

Ability to equip multiple weapons at once and also being able to see them on my character, i. e. a bow on my back, and axe on my right hip, a dagger on my left hip and a staff alongside the bow. Also they jiggle according to physics.

Big cities. No, I mean, like, really, truly BIG cities. I mean some Novigrad from the Witcher 3 type of big cities. I want to get lost in them. I want to find all the secrets, hidden in dark alleys and on the rooftops. I want countless quests within the city itself. Just let me enjoy some fantasy medieval city life, okay?

Animated activities. When I click to skin a dead deer I want to see my character sit down and do some work with a knife. When I go to a spot where fish is abundant I want to see a fishing rod being thrown into the water. That sorta thing.

Detailed crafting system. I. e. you could choose to make a handle of a sword and its blade from different materials and have different effects on them that combine once you put the sword together. Or whilst making armor you could pick between different textures, materials, colors and such.  Basically, what they did in Dragon Age Inquisition. That was a fun system to play around with.

Also more subcategories for crafting, like if you are a high level smith you could craft some horseshoes for your mount that’ll increase its galloping speed, or if you’re a skilled alchemist you could make a throwable potion which will harm the enemies in a certain way (like a jar of bees or something). And, of course, accompanying animations are welcome. I’d die to see my character put some horseshoes on their steed.

A loveable villain, who could be “persuaded” to abandon his goals, join your squad and become your new LI. Basically, Miraak 2.0, but with a happily ever after ending.

Dwemer prosthetics. Sotha Sil thinks he’s so hip with his metallic arm, doesn’t he? Well I too want to have a metallic arm, damnit!

Ability to furnish your house however you like. When you buy a house there could be a choice between a fully furnished version and an unfurnished version of your house. After that you could either re-arrange the furniture in your abode or buy new furniture that suits your tastes. Then you could enter furnishing mode and have a blast decorating your dream house to your heart’s content. Basically, what we saw in Fallout 4′s Homeplate and Fizztop Grille.

Outposts, keeps or anything like that. They could be like small bases that you take control of once you slaughter its previous owners, where you and your squad of companions could rest, talk, repair broken armor and weapons or buy new ones, stock up on potions and bandages, that sort of thing. There also could be a special object that will allow you to instantly switch between the companions and/or choose a different mount from a collection of those that you own. Also there could be a badass custom flag of yours marking that place as your own.

i’ll proly add some more later, but rn i’m out of ideas xD

[monstersandmaw]

Footsteps in the Snow - Chapter Six

Lein and Argis bond a bit more over a campfire breakfast, Lein and Argis go hunt a dragon down, and Lein gets characteristically over-excited and does something stupid. Argis is left, once again, to pick up the pieces...

<---- Previous Chapter | Table of Contents

Lein inhaled deeply, slowly, when he woke. Light pressed against his eyelids, hard, sharp, and much too bright. He shuffled. And then yelped in horror as something cold slid down his neck and into his shirt. Flailing, magicka boiling to life in his hands, he sat up with a shriek, expecting to see perhaps a frostbite spider standing over him, mandibles dripping thick ropes of icy venom.

Instead he saw that his sleeping bag was covered in a layer of soft, cold snow. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes and laughed hoarsely at his mistake, sweeping the remaining snow off his neck and shoulders and shivering. It was only as he heard the low rumble of another laugh nearby that he looked over and saw Argis crouched beside the campfire, prodding the logs and rotating a couple of fish that were spread over a stick above the flames, flavoured with what looked like tart snowberries.

“Morning,” he chuckled, eyes glinting with mirth at his thane’s cold-weather antics.

“Fuck off,” Lein retorted sleepily, which only made Argis laugh harder. “Urgh. I was sure it wasn’t going to snow this far over.” He suddenly remembered the wet clothes which they had left to dry beside the fire the previous evening, and groaned. “I bet the clothes are frozen stiff,” he grumbled.

“No,” Argis said brightly. “I shook the snow off them this morning before it melted, and finished them off when I stoked up the fire. They’re all dry now.” He eyed Lein’s torso, covered only by his thin linen shirt. “Speaking of… you should probably put some more clothes on before you freeze.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, catching the leather trousers as Argis tossed them over from the fireside.

It was only as he laced his fingers together and reached up into a languorous stretch that he recalled waking in the night with Argis’ hand holding his. How long had they stayed like that? Had Argis awoken to find them linked together? If he had, what had his reaction been, Lein wondered, as his gaze flitted back to the housecarl.

Argis frowned slightly. “Thane?” he asked when he found him staring. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said again, his voice cracking in the middle of the word. He coughed, shuffled, and squeaked as a bit more snow fell off the sleeping bag into his lap, and then got out in a rush.

Argis blinked when he saw him standing there in just his shirt and his underwear, and Lein wondered if he didn’t take half a heartbeat too long to look away. Could it have been the glow of the fire adding colour to his cheeks? It was hard to tell at that distance.

Lein stuffed his legs into his warm, softly-lined leather trousers and bundled some woollen socks onto his chilly toes. As he snuggled into a fur-lined jacket, still standing on the top of his bedroll, he looked about for his boots.

“Here,” Argis grunted, throwing them over too from where they’d been standing beside the fire.

As he slipped his feet into them, he hummed gratefully at the warmth. “Mmm, thank you,” he smiled. “Toasty feet. Nice start to the day.”

Argis’ expression to start with was difficult as ever to read, but it rapidly broke into a smile. “Hopefully this’ll help too,” he said, gesturing at the cooking fish with the stick he had in his hand.

“Smells amazing. I’m surprised you haven’t got an orderly queue of bears and sabres lining up for service.”

Argis only laughed. “Should be done by now. You hungry?”

“Starving,” he said, working out the crick in his spine with another feline stretch. “And stiff.” He exhaled with a grunt and asked, “How are you this morning?”

“Same as you, I think,” he grinned as he hoisted the fish off the fire and slid them both onto a little wooden platter. Digging out two forks from his bag, he handed one to Lein as the smaller man sank down cross-legged beside the fire like a Khajiit.

“Well, we don’t have to go so far today,” he smiled. “We can even split the journey to Morthal, so long as you don’t mind another night in the snow.”

Argis shook his head and took another bite of the slightly charred fish. “I don’t mind the cold,” he said.

“I wish I didn’t,” Lein said miserably, rubbing his thighs with his spare hand. Being left-handed, and with Argis holding the plate between them on his right, Lein had to reach right over his legs to stab the fish on their shared platter, but he didn’t object. The rocking motion put him momentarily closer to Argis each time he reached for the plate. “Gods, Argis, this salmon is good. I can’t believe you’ve been up fishing already, unless you charmed it off that fisherwoman back at Crabber’s Shanty…?” He nearly added another rather more inappropriate comment, but he bit it back. It was too early for that.

Argis’ smirk made the scars on his left cheek stretch, his blind eye crinkling softly in the corner. “That what you think of me, eh?” he asked, turning to face him fully.

“Well,” Lein said casually, casting his eyes up to the soft, silver grey sky, “It is the middle of the morning now… You let me sleep a long time. You’re a good-looking guy… Who knows what you’ve been up to since dawn?” He laughed, showing him he was being playful, and Argis took up the tone.

“Well!” he retorted right back, his voice deep and gruff as usual, though he spoke with a mock-affronted tone that made his hazel eye glitter, “Here I was letting my little princess of a thane sleep in, while I went off and braved the icy waters of the river to catch you some breakfast. And all you can do is assume I went off to work my charms on a poor defenceless woman in the wilderness.” He pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. “What do they teach you thane school?”

Lein tipped his head back and laughed. It felt so good to laugh like that. The sound of his gentle baritone filled his chest, his head, and the whole campsite like a bard’s song in a high hall. “Ah, Argis,” he chortled, “I knew you’d be good for me the moment I saw you.”

The corners of Argis’ lips twitched again, but he didn’t add anything.

“Seriously though,” Lein said. “Thank you for this. It’s delicious.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “And I was starving this morning too. I thought about doing something with one of those mudcrabs, but really you need time and space and a big old cook pot for that.”

“Maybe you can cook some for us when we get to Windstad,” he said, impressed. “There are lots of the fuckers in the boggy bits down by the shore. And the Nine know neither Valdimar nor I can cook half as well, and I have no experience of Iona’s cooking.”

“Iona?”

“Val’s fiancée,” he said. “They’ve been engaged for forever, but bless them, they wanted to wait til I was there to have the ceremony, would you believe it?”

Argis smiled knowingly but kept his thoughts to himself.

Lein finished the last of his salmon, crunching the crispy, salty skin between his teeth with particular relish, and leaned back, hands splayed on the bedroll he was using to sit on and keep his clothes dry. “They’re going to have the ceremony in the Temple of the Divines in Solitude.”

“Sounds fancy,” Argis said.

“Ho boy,” Lein nodded. “Yeah. Iona’s father is one of Jarl Elisif’s advisors, and stinking rich. Iona’s his youngest daughter, so he doesn’t really mind her marrying the housecarl of a lowly thane like me, though I think he could probably be a bit happier about Val’s employer.”

Argis frowned. “Why?”

Lein snorted and tilted his head back to stare up at the sky above them. It was one of those still winter days where the sky was endless, but veiled in a layer of high, silky cloud, and the air was crisp and fresh, and full of the smell of more snow. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be shocked to learn that I don’t exactly conform to what they expect of a thane in Solitude. I mean,” he went on, “I do answer the summons… mostly… unless I’m in a different hold or something, but I don’t give a skeever’s arse for politics, I refuse to engage in any Stormcloak or Imperial business, and, I think perhaps my greatest flaw is that I always seem to use the wrong fork for my starters…”

“Shocking,” Argis deadpanned, and Lein couldn’t contain his little snort of laughter.

“I know. The thing is, I know how to behave, but I just get such a kick out of watching them get their underwear in a twist, I can’t help myself. I think that’s why I don’t get invited to things very often any more, which is fine by me.”

“So,” Argis asked as he scraped up the last few flakes of his salmon, “What do you spend most of your time doing then?”

Lein blinked and then turned his mismatching eyes on Argis. “I guess I haven’t really had the chance to show you what I do, have I? What with falling off mountains into necromantic rituals and taking so long to recover…”

His housecarl shrugged and set the plate down on the frozen ground.

“I’m not normally so shit at surviving, I promise.”

Argis laughed, and muttered, “I’ve seen your scars, thane. I can tell that.”

Lein felt the slight warmth of a blush in his cheeks. “Well, when I’m not giving in to my own overly-excitable nature, I actually do some work. I owe my allegiance to a couple of guilds, I guess, so I do jobs and contracts for them when they call on me. I’m lucky enough to have quite a lot of wealth saved up and stashed away so I don’t technically need to work a normal job all the time.”

Argis blinked.

“I know, I dress like a tramp. You’re not the first person to be surprised to learn I’m actually quite well off.” He snorted and left it at that. “I studied at Winterhold for a while, so I also offer my services as an enchanter. I have spent quite a long time with the Dawnguard too.”

“Vampire hunters.”

He nodded. “It was a few years back when the attacks got so bad that you couldn’t travel round even the major cities at night without tripping over a master vampire and his thralls. People were getting scared, and I was free, so I offered my services and my blades to the Dawnguard. They’re decent people, good fighters, and we eventually managed to stop that lunatic, Harkon, from blotting out the sun.”

“Harkon?” Argis paused, frowning. “That was you? You were the one who stopped him?”

Lein’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m surprised you heard about that,” he said. “Most people just think we wiped out a massive coven. Few people know Harkon’s name or what he’d planned.”

“You know how word gets around the guards,” he said. “I was in Markarth’s City Guard for years. We heard about the vampires, and knew to watch out for the Volkihar ones especially. We heard the Dawnguard had defeated their leader, Harkon. Even heard that the Dawnguard was running around with a tame vampire of their own… that true?”

“Serana,” he said, a warm fondness filling his voice at the thought of her. “Yeah. She… She’s pretty unique.”

“Oh?” he asked, his voice sounding somehow different.

Lein chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, if you told me before I found her in Dimhollow that I’d be adventuring around Skyrim with a 4000 year old woman by my side, I’d have told you someone had slipped some skooma in your tea. And then if you’d told me that said 4000 year old woman didn’t look like some shrivelled up corpse but in fact was quite possibly the most intelligent and beautiful woman ever to set foot on our great continent, I would have laughed you out of the room, but…” he shrugged. “It’s all true.” He ran his fingers through his white hair, combing out the tangles in it as it fell loose to brush over his shoulders. “And I’m such a scholar, I had a real hoot asking her all about what Tamriel was like before she got sealed away in the crypt. It was fascinating.” He pushed a hand through his hair one last time and tied it half back with a leather cord. “And even I’ll have to admit that travelling with a woman had it’s benefits.”

“Oh?” he asked a second time, his voice now tinged with a hint of… of what exactly?

Lein huffed a nervous laugh. “You wouldn’t believe the doors a beautiful woman can open for you, in all sorts of circles. We had a lot of fun.” He sighed and realised he should probably correct any stray thoughts Argis was having about him and Serana, alone on the road together. Even if it meant the possibility of having to admit, finally, that he was interested entirely and exclusively in men. He wasn’t sure Argis was ready for that, but if the time had come, then maybe it had come. “She said she liked travelling with a man who never showed the slightest bit of interest in her… you know… that way. She said it was nice just to have a friend.” He risked a quick look at Argis’ face, but it was intense and impassive all at the same time. Lein made a mental note never to play the man at cards. “And she was right. It was nice to have a friend. I usually spend so long on my own I forget how to use my voice, and I don’t mean all that dragonborn shouting nonsense.” He sighed. “Maybe you’ll get to meet her if we swing by Fort Dawnguard sometime.” He paused. “She’s sassy. You’d like her.”

Argis smiled, but it didn’t carry his usual warmth. He looked away and prodded at the dying fire absently with his poking stick. “You talk a lot about travelling, but you ever think about settling down?”

“What?”

“Well, you said your housecarl’s getting married…” He didn’t look away from the tiny flames dancing on the charred logs.

Lein snorted. “I have thought about it,” he said glumly. “But I lead a… a somewhat ‘nomadic’ lifestyle to say the least. My partner would have to be prepared to sleep rough on the roads for nights on end between backwater inns, and trail around after me while I clear out crypts full of draugr and risk my life battling dragons on mountaintops.” He fiddled with a toggle on his boot, and studiously avoided using the words ‘she’ or ‘wife’. “Not everyone can wield a sword, or wants to put themselves in danger like that all the time, and if they didn’t want to, they’d have to rattle around one of my houses alone, perhaps for months at a time, wondering if I’m ever coming back. That doesn’t seem like a fair ask to me, and no one I’ve ever been with has seemed to think so either.” He released the toggle and stood up with a grunt. “Not that I’ve tried the idea out on many people.”

Without looking at Argis, he grabbed the platter and their two forks from the ground beside him, and stumped over to the waterfall to rinse them clean. Argis took them from him when he was done, and began to pack up the camp. Lein took himself off to splash his face in the waterfall and to answer nature’s call in private.

By the time he returned, Argis had doused and scattered the fire, and packed everything up, including Lein’s own bedroll. He’d strapped it already to the bottom of Lein’s bag. Standing beside his thane’s bag, he looked up, scowling, when Lein returned.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, “You look like you trod in a falmer turd.”

Argis’ frown shattered into a snort of laughter, but it soon returned. “What the hell have you got in here?” he said, lifting Lein’s pack with one arm and a loud grunt. Lein allowed himself the small pleasure of watching his huge bicep work to lift the heavy bag. “And why didn’t you give me some of it to carry?”

Lein shrugged. “It’s only what I usually carry on the road for a long journey like this one.”

“This weighs easily a hundred pounds,” Argis blurted, clearly looking at Lein’s slight figure and wondering how the hell he did it. “That’s, like…”

“Almost as much as I weigh?” he countered playfully. “Gods, Argis, I know I’m small, but I’m not that small. And I’m not that weak.” He swallowed. He was probably just shy of a hundred and forty pounds. On a heavy day. After a big meal.

Argis blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said in a rush. “I just…” His scowl deepened. “You can damage yourself carrying this much weight on your shoulders.”

Lein knew that. He’d seen Imperial soldiers forced out on marches carrying 100lb packs with no support, and who ended up being unable to use their arms for a while because the nerves in the shoulder and neck had been compressed. “You’ll notice the waist straps I’ve got on it,” he said sharply, pointing at the thick support straps which did up around his middle. “I didn’t leave home yesterday, Argis.”

Again, the housecarl looked abashed. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean that you don’t know what you’re doing. But you can ask me to carry stuff for you, you know? Mine doesn’t even weigh half that.”

Lein toyed with the idea, and faced with those puppy-dog eyes, even if one of them was milky white and stared blindly almost through him rather than at him, he found it hard to refuse him. “Fine,” he said. “Look, if we pick up anything else today, you can carry it. Deal?”

Argis clearly knew when to back down. “Deal.”

Lein smiled. “And you can lift it up for me to put my arms in,” he added. “Save me wrenching my back out trying to get it on.” Argis only rolled his eyes at that, but he heaved it up and helped Lein get the straps over his arms. “Right,” Lein said as he adjusted the weight of it on his back. “Now. We have a choice.” He looked over his shoulder at the mountain towering above him. “Up there is a word wall, I can feel it, but it’ll be guarded by a dragon, and it’s a bloody long hike up to Eldersblood Peak. I checked the maps before we left.”

The hazel eye that stared back at him looked wide and full of awe and excitement. “A dragon?” he breathed. “You’re actually going to seek out a dragon?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, if I want to learn new word in their language, I have to find the word walls.” He paused and then added, “But we don’t have to go now if you don’t want to. We can go straight to Morthal.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaimed. “I’d love to!”

“Great,” Lein grinned, setting off at a decent pace after one final look around the campsite to check they had everything.

As they made their way along the riverbank, cutting back up the hillside through a band of tall pines, the mountain seemed to grow higher and taller over them. Argis made him discuss every conceivable weakness in the dragon, and demanded to know what felt like the hundred best ways to bring one down. By the time they were half way up, Lein had exhausted himself with explanations, and had fallen into a puffed silence. The pack was perhaps a little on the heavy side, and, fit though he was, he still hadn’t quite regained his usual trail stamina after his stupidity in Markarth.

A column of wood-smoke drifted up into the clear sky, and as they stumped up the slope to a flattened out corner in the road, a tattooed wood elf sat crouched on an upturned barrel beside a fire, the carcass of a freshly-slain frost troll clearly waiting to be dealt with. He smiled warmly as they tramped up the path, and Lein took the chance to stop and ask him what wildlife there was about. Sweat rolled down his temples and made his hair stick to the back of his neck. He was regretting wearing his fur jacket now, but couldn’t be bothered to take the pack off to remove it.

“Oh, I think there’s another frost troll higher up,” he said cheerily. He had to be easily the friendliest elf Lein had ever met. Normally his kind were sullen and haughty. Perhaps the fresh air had done this one some good. “And I think there’s another lurking in the cave at Cold Rock Pass.” Frowning, the dark-haired Bosmer added, “You going all the way to the top of the peak? There’s a dragon circling around up there you know…”

“Yup,” Lein smiled, enjoying the look of surprise on his face.

The elf looked from Lein to Argis and back again. “You gone bloody mad?”

Another laugh rippled out of Lein and he shook his head. “Quite possibly,” he chuckled. An idea struck him and he undid the straps of his bag, slinging it gently to the ground. Taking off the fur jacket, he rolled it up and opened the top of the bag. Pulling out a bottle of Nord mead, he offered it to the elf. “Reckon it’s probably been a while since you made it into town,” he smiled. “Here.”

“For me?” he asked. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“Thank you, divines smile on you, friend,” he said. “This is most welcome.”

“I’m glad.” Wishing the hunter a good day, Lein hoisted the pack back up onto his shoulders, feeling cooler now without the jacket, and the pair left him and continued the winding climb up towards Cold Rock Pass.

Crouching suddenly as an icy blast of wind brought the pungent stench of a frost troll, they both hovered a moment, listening. “Thane,” Argis hissed behind him. “You hear that?”

“You smell that?” Lein replied. He nodded ahead of him and they saw the creature, cavorting about in the seemingly random way of frost trolls, apparently just enjoying the snow. “You think I can get it in one?”

“With your bow, and the way you shoot, yeah,” Argis smiled.

“My honour’s on the line then,” he chuckled. The laugh echoed a little in the tiny passage in the rocks, but the frost troll was too busy farting away in its little section of the path to notice. Lein did bring it down in one shot straight between its piggy little eyes, using his beautiful, supple bow. He saw the way Argis eyed it, and as he straightened out of his crouch, he muttered, “We’ll have to get you one like this.”

“Can’t have me embarrassing you with my little hunting bow?”

“Absolutely. I mean,” Lein said, delicately stepping around the bleeding carcass, “What would they say at court?”

Argis’ laugh boomed out, but it didn’t last very long. “Though… you know,” he murmured, “I’d like one, don’t get me wrong, but… I probably couldn’t afford one…”

Lein halted so suddenly that Argis careered into the back of him with a short ‘oof’ of surprise.

“My thane?”

“I meant I’d have to get you one as a gift,” he said. “I’d never force you to spend your own wages something like that, Argis.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Lein chuckled, shaking his head. “When’s your birthday?”

“Not for a long time,” he said. “Just had it, back in Last Seed.”

“Wish I’d known,” he sighed. “Yule gift then maybe,” Lein said, more to himself than to his housecarl.

“Please,” Argis murmured, “Look, you don’t have to get me anything, really…”

Lein knew that tone. He’d made him uncomfortable again. He sighed. “Think of it as being able to protect your thane better if you’ve got better weapons?” he said hopefully, turning gracefully and putting on his sweetest expression, smiling as he watched Argis’ discomfort melt. “I won’t bring it up again though,” he said. “Come on, we’ve got a dragon to slay.”

The air got colder and colder the higher they climbed, and, pausing on a rock to grab a mouthful of water, Lein put his jacket back on. Reaching the mountaintop wall was a long slog, but when Lein felt the tug of the wall at its strongest yet, like a second, pulsing heartbeat in his chest, he held his hand up to Argis. “Take your pack off. We’ll collect them afterwards. You'll need to be able to move around properly, and maybe dive out of the way… Try and land as many hits as we can if it’s still sitting on the wall when we get there. They like to perch up on the top of them, and you can usually deal some damage while they’re still asleep.”

Argis nodded, looking serious and apprehensive, following behind his thane as they crept forward up the last set of stairs. Behind him, Lein heard the housecarl’s sharp intake of breath as the dragon came into view, sleeping, just as Lein had said it would be, atop the word wall. “By the gods. It's huge.” It was. But it didn't look any bigger than anything Lein had faced alone.

The dragon sat perched on the curving monument, dozing in the freezing blasts that whipped and gusted around the peak. “Frost dragon,” Lein whispered, squinting at the scales glimmering like ice and the enormous wings folded softly by its side. “Good, she won’t like fire.” She was a beautiful thing to behold, and Lein felt that familiar lancing regret in his chest as his bow creaked softly and he took aim. They'd both coated their arrows in a poison which would drain the dragon’s magicka, and while Argis’ hunting bow was powerful, it would be Lein’s daedric Flamekiss that would do the most damage.

“These crosswinds are gonna be a bitch,” Argis muttered as he held the bow effortlessly at full draw, waiting for Lein to loose first.

Nodding, Lein asked, “Ready?”

“As I'll ever be.”

Lein’s arrow sank itself straight into the dragon’s sleeping left eye, while Argis’ shot tore through the muscle at the shoulder of the dragon’s wing. “Nice,” Lein cried as the dragon gave a scream and lurched upwards into the air. “Watch out for that breath. It’ll give you hypothermia in minutes if you get caught in the full blast.”

Enraged by the intrusion and the loss of one eye, the dragon circled the peak a couple of times, screaming and howling her defiance, and each time she swooped close overhead she was forced to rear up again into the snow-filled sky, faced with a small volley of arrows from the two men. Blood spattered down, heavy and red, into the snow from her wounds, and they largely avoided her icy breath by ducking behind the stone columns. Once, Lein got caught in the open, but he countered the dragon’s shout with a fire breath of his own, negating the effects of the dragon’s blast, and he thought if dragons could express surprise, perhaps he saw a flash of it on this one’s face as she got an answering shout yelled back at her.

The fire-bow proved deadly, and on her fourth pass, the dragon lost the strength from her tattered, blood-streaked wings, and came crashing down to shake the frozen earth, powerful jaws snapping and long whip tail thrashing like a bullwhip.

“Stand back!” Lein yelled desperately as Argis got too close to the tail, but before he could reel backwards, the long spines caught him full in the chest. His armour bore the brunt of the force, but he still flew backwards through the air, landing heavily against a stone buttress twenty feet away. “Argis!”

The housecarl staggered and lurched to his feet. His bow was nowhere to be seen, but he still had his greatsword strapped to his back in its scabbard, which he began to draw.

Lein turned on the grounded beast with a snarl, feeling his ability to shout restored, and unleashed a fiery blast at her, which made her whine and cringe before snapping her dagger-sharp teeth shut right in his face. Foul breath, laced with needles of ice, rushed from her open maul, but Lein unsheathed the ebony sword from his belt and in a fluid motion, rammed the blade up into the still-open mouth. A long fang sank deep into his bicep, but he wrenched his blade free before the felled dragon’s head could twist and snap the blade in two with the force of its fall.

Staggering, with blood running down his arm into the snow, Lein ran to Argis. If he'd suffered a concussion, this exposed peak was not the place to stay for long.

“My thane!” he exclaimed in alarm at the sight of the blood on Lein’s arm, painting his hand bright red and dotting the snow in a trail of scarlet behind him. “You're hurt. Quick, get back to the bags. You need a potion.”

“Are you alright?” Lein asked, ignoring the searing pain in his arm. “She knocked you flying like a bowling pin.” The sword suddenly clattered to the stone as the strength went from the muscles and his hand started to go numb.

“I’m fine,” Argis grunted. “Just winded and a bit bruised. I was lucky not to hit my head. Stay there.” He rushed away and returned a few moments later with a huge potion, the red glass marking it out as a healing potion. Lein was glad he always used the same bottles each time, since the man couldn’t read the delicate copperplate writing on the side of the bottle.

Lein drank it and felt the heady rush as the herbs and medicines did their work. As he offered the bottle back to Argis, his hand froze half way through the gesture. “What?”

Argis’ eyes were wide, staring at the carcass of the dragon behind them on the uppermost platform of the peak. In the rush of making sure his housecarl was unhurt, Lein had entirely forgotten about the fact that the dragon’s soul would bind with his in a maelstrom of whirling, burning light and colour. Before he could warn him or explain to Argis what was happening, the roaring grew in his ears until he could see only rippling light, surrounded by a vortex of noise and light as the dragon’s anger and power, its strength and will, became one with his own.

When the storm passed, Lein staggered and gasped, but remained on his feet as the fleeting dizziness passed. It had never become easier. The greybeards had said it would, but each time he absorbed the soul of a dragon it made him feel sick and weak and lightheaded.

“Was… Was that… Did you…?” Argis stammered when it was all over. For once, he hadn’t made any movement to help his thane. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to make himself move.

Lein nodded and watched as Argis’ gaze slid from his thane to the body of the dragon behind him.

“Shor’s bones,” he cursed.

Where, only a minute before, there had been the bloody body of a frost dragon, still adorned in shimmering blue and silver scales, now lay empty grey bones and sightless eye sockets. “Yeah,” Lein said, his voice a harsh croak. “Show’s not over yet though,” he grinned weakly. “Come on.”

Warily walking with him, perhaps half a pace behind, Argis followed Lein to the word wall. “Can you hear that too?” the housecarl asked, unnerved.

Lein nodded. “All the walls contain words in the ancient dragon language. Words of power. What you're hearing is that knowledge reaching out for me.”

“Do I need to… stand back or something?” he asked, sounding ever more uneasy.

Chuckling softly, Lein shook his head. “No. Actually,” he amended, “I have been known to pass out after learning some of the more powerful shouts…” His mismatching blue and brown eyes skimmed the words, and he shrugged. “I should be ok with this one though. It’s a shout to disarm your opponent.”

“Handy,” was all Argis could muster in response.

Lein shrugged. “Some people are more resistant to it, and I don't know all the words to the shout yet. Still,” he said, stepping into the semicircle of the word wall and feeling the first few cords of connection already forming to link him to the ancient knowledge of the dragons, “No harm in expanding one’s vocabulary, right?”

With a wry chuckle, he closed his eyes and opened his hands, opening himself up to the rush of new knowledge and power. The connection was made, the bond forged, and the yelling voices of a thousand dragons pounded against his eardrums. He felt the cry tear itself from his throat, but never heard it. His knees buckled and he lurched to one side, catching himself on the chisel-carved wall before he fell.

The voices went quiet, and his vision went black.

Breathing hard, he let the adrenaline course through his body, filling his muscles until he felt like his skin was itching on the inside. Recovered moments later, he pushed himself off the wall and turned back to Argis. He took one look at his housecarl’s astonished face, and let out a little laugh. “You've gone paler than me,” he snorted. “Come on, now the show’s over. Let's find out what treasure that little lizard was guarding, and head back down, shall we?”

It took Argis a while to fall into step behind him again, but Lein didn't push it. It was a lot to take in the first time. Casting his housecarl a sideways glance, he smiled. The big Nord was staring at him with a mixture of awe and apprehension on his scarred, tattooed face.

Lein knew that look. He'd seen it in villages and towns the land over, any time he felled a dragon and claimed its soul where there were witnesses, they all wore that dumbstruck, fearful expression. Usually it meant they left him alone, but occasionally the children, and sometimes the adults, would crowd around him, firing questions at him a mile a minute, demanding to know how he did it, if he was could do a shout for them, and if he was going to use the Voice to shout Ulfric Stormcloak out of the kingdom.

Lost in thought, he almost missed the chest tucked away beside the wall, but, cranking its heavy lid open, he saw an ebony shield, a little glass dagger which crackled with energy, a pair of plate gauntlets, a sapphire, and a purse of gold. Pulling the shield out, he held it up to Argis. “You fancy this?”

Argis’ eyes went wide again and he bit his lip. “Yeah,” he rasped, “I mean, if you don't, that is…”

“Can't stand shields,” he chuckled, holding it out to the other man. “I get that they're useful and all, but I'm so clumsy with one. And usually they're too heavy for me anyway.” As if to emphasise his point, he grunted with effort as he held it in front of him. It dipped as his arm shook, and Argis laughed, taking it up easily and sliding his hand into the straps.

“Feels good,” he said. “Nice balance…”

“Then it's yours. You want these gauntlets too? Otherwise I'll sell them and the dagger when I get the chance. Won't make that much, but it’s not to be scoffed at.” As before, he divided the gold in half, and, yet again, the act seemed to take Argis by surprise. He accepted it with the same uncertainty, but Lein just grinned at him.

The cold began to bite into his skin despite his furs, and he shivered.

“We should get off this exposed peak,” Argis commented, eyes lingering on the way the snow drifted and whipped around the area, gusting over the tops of the walls. “Weather’s closing in.”

They slung their packs back on, bundled up against the cold, and left Eldersblood Peak behind them. Lein glanced back and watched the wall disappear into the swirling white snow. The temperature was dropping fast. “You’re right. Storm’s coming.”

Cairns topped with ragged banners flapped and cracked in the wind as they wound their way down the mountain path. Wind roared and moaned between the rocks, and particles of ice lanced through the air. Argis slipped on an ice-glazed stone and landed hard on his backside with a grunt, and a little while later, Lein would have done the same, had he not steadied himself by snatching for a sharp piece of rock beside him. It tore a gash in his palm, but he’d healed it with a spell before Argis could even reprimand him for not paying attention to where he was going.

Lein was glad he’d decided to leave the bones where they were. He reckoned he’d schlepped enough dragon bone across Skyrim to recreate the skeletons of half a hundred of the beasts, and he wasn't in need of the cash the bones would bring at a city trader’s either. He noticed how Argis had avoided the skeleton altogether as they'd left the platform, and he couldn't blame him. There was a strange energy to all places that were linked to the dragons, and even those with no magical gifts could feel something.

Rounding a rocky bluff, they caught the winter wind full in the face, cruel shards of ice slicing at their cheeks. Argis gave a soft grunt, turning his face away, while Lein actually let out a yelp as one struck him in his blue eye. Turning away, he rubbed fiercely at it, cursing.

“You alright?” Argis asked, automatically stepping across to shield him from the worst of the wind while he stood with his shoulders hunched, complaining.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Just got some in my eye.” As he turned to resume their progress, he caught sight of a crack in the rock. “Cold Rock Pass,” he murmured, a mischievous grin kindling on his handsome, wind-burned face. “Wonder if there's treasure inside. Wanna find out?”

“There's probably nothing but a frost troll in there. You sure?”

“Yeah, come on,” he smirked. “Unless you're all ‘adventured out’ after the dragon…” Whether it was the lingering adrenaline from the fight, or the head-rush from learning the shout, he wasn’t sure, but he capered off towards the opening like a lamb through spring grass.

Chuckling, Argis followed him more carefully to the entrance of the pass without complaint. They quickly learned where the cave got its name, discovering that it was quite possibly colder inside than outside, with thick sheets of glistering ice coating the walls and floor. There was, however, the sound of water splashing from further ahead.

Sacks of old flour and vegetables, preserved and frozen solid by the ice, stood in a little pile just inside, and he noted a corundum ore vein to his left as he snuck up a short slope into the larger cavern inside. The stench of troll burned his nose and he lifted his bow from his back once more. The troll never saw the arrow that killed it, and it went down with a crash and a bellow that echoed around the walls like a shout in a temple. Nothing else moved in the cave, and Lein straightened confidently, returning the bow to its hook as he slung his pack off to explore the cave with more freedom.

Despite the fact that his teeth were chattering, his mood was high and bright as he flitted around the cave, exploring the corners and looking for stashed treasure like a squirrel after a nut. In no time he had found a chest with a coin purse and some refined malachite, which he stuffed into his pack, and as he turned away, he saw the body of a bandit lying on the thick ice beside a gushing waterfall. Heedless of any danger, he stepped out onto the ice and crossed to the corpse. The bandit was frozen solid, and as he turned it over, hoping to find some lock picks as he'd snapped a couple of his last ones, he heard the ice give a deep, sonorous crack.

“Lein, get out of there,” Argis called the moment he heard it. “The ice isn't going to hold you and that body. Move!”

But as he dropped the stiff corpse and tried to spring for the stable ground of the rock where Argis stood, he felt the world dip beneath him, and with another crack like breaking bone, the ice gave way, plunging him into the water of the pool beneath him.

Argis lunged at him with a bellow, but missed.

The pool wasn't deep, but the cold bit deep into his bones, and his lungs stopped working instantly. Fighting against the pain, the water burning his skin like acid, Lein flailed hopelessly. His feet caught the bottom and he pushed upwards, hands reaching, jerking, up to where Argis was kneeling on the edge of the rock, stretching out his own hand. “Come on!” the housecarl thundered. “Reach!”

Lein didn't feel his fingers catch Argis’ but he was hauled from the pool and was up on the frozen rock before he realised it. Gasping and shaking, he fell like a landed fish at Argis’ feet. I am such an idiot, he thought. Why do I never think anything through?

Argis’ brain was mercifully thinking more practically, and he said, “Thane, you're going to need to get out of those wet furs. If you don't, you'll die. You’ll freeze to death” He dragged Lein up out of the half-frozen puddle he was lying in, and began to delve into his thane’s pack for some dry clothes.

Lein couldn't feel anything other than pain. Well, perhaps there was an undercurrent of shame beneath it all, but still, he was overwhelmed by how much it hurt. His muscles cramped tight and his lungs spasmed. He didn't notice that he'd stopped shivering.

When Argis saw him lying there, immobile, hardly breathing, lips blue, he swore and fumbled to remove the heavy, waterlogged fur jacket Lein had been wearing to keep the wind and snow out. With his torso naked, his scarred skin bare and pale as the ice walls around them, he felt no difference. Unable to sit up, he let Argis stuff his arms into a linen shirt and then into something else that was far too big for him. His leather trousers were a battle to get off, and Lein cringed as the backs of his bare thighs touched cold stone for a moment. The touch hurt like he’d touched hot iron. He thought he heard Argis apologise, and then he said, “Thane, you'll… You'll need to undress… You can't stay in wet… um…”

But Lein couldn't move, every muscle was locked up.

“Fuck,” Argis hissed, “I'm sorry.”

Lein wasn't able to feel anything, and he closed his eyes, wishing the pain would stop. Perhaps a flame spell would warm him? He tried to conjure some fire in his hand, but at a sharp cry of alarm from Argis, he lost concentration and the magicka fled. Whether it was from the effort of trying to wield magic, or from the energy his body was trying to use to warm him up again, Lein wasn't sure, but he felt his mind go blank around the edges, and he tipped back into exhaustion without complaint.

When he woke, he felt cold wind on his face again, and a strange, lurching sensation, like being on a horse. He cracked his eyes open and found he had his chest pressed against the soft weave of a shirt. “It’s too cold to be wearing that,” he tried to say, but it came out only as a mere, “Too cold.”

“Almost there,” he heard as a deep, rumbling response.

“Argis,” he whispered. And then he began to shiver. His shivering gained momentum, and shortly he was shaking so violently that it became spasming. He heard Argis swear again, and tell him to hold on.

Woodsmoke. The sharp, rich smell of woodsmoke filled his mind and he heard a shout, followed by an answering rumble from Argis. He didn’t catch what words were exchanged, but soon he was being bundled up inside a warm, dark tent, the soft folds of a thick bedroll engulfing his quivering body. There was the hum of more conversation, and then a soft sigh and a shuffle in the shadows beside him. He thought he heard Argis whisper, “Forgive me,” before he became aware of a delicious warmth behind his back and a pressure around his waist.

He nuzzled into it, letting the heat soak into his skin, and then he drifted off again into dark oblivion.

Chapter Seven