#oc k'rin l'rue

[nine-blessed-hero]

Only Shadows Walk Beside

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: Angst, threatening a minor Words: 600 Context: Written for the TES Summer Fest prompt: Companion. Tagging: @tes-summer-fest, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary Also read on AO3

On the hill above the Priory, Divine Crusader Lorinda Rue sits, hugging her knees, as twilight settles a shroud around her shoulders. Three of her knights gone. Her brothers, her comrades. Her friends. She repeats their names: Sir Areldur, Sir Brellin, Sir Geimund. Lorinda presses a face already puffy and eyes already red-rimmed into her knees. Dead, because she wasn't fast enough. Wasn't strong enough. Wasn't leader enough. They knew the risks, whispers a part of her. Did they? Did they? Brellin was so young-! Areldur, for all his faults, so pious and trusting. And Geimund, so skilled, looking for orders…

Lorinda had tried to say a few words about them. Standing over their freshly turned graves, the remaining knights and the new recruits clustered, expectant. But words had failed her; only a sob made it out. She fled. Mercifully no one had followed. Sir Thedret had been so excited on her return – stumbling, confused from the Undercroft. Had named her Divine Crusader to the other's cheers. Then she had learnt of their losses. Divine fuckup, another part of her whispers. Crusader of folly. Her hands ball into fists. No leader, she. This must not happen again. Never again.

–––

The Black Arrow stumbles from the bloodworks. The Basin of Renewal may have healed her physical hurts, but it does nothing for the hollowness of her 'victory' against the Grey Prince. The Raiment of Valor hangs heavy on her shoulders, Matron Andronicus's victory lap making it feel more like a millstone than a trophy. She wants nothing more than to go down to the lakeshore behind her house and strip it off, diving deep into the precious waters. A squeal sounds, somewhere behind her, to the right. Footsteps converge on her location. She reaches for an arrow, spinning– – to find a boy, yellow haired and dressed in green, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "By Azura, by Azura, by Azura!" he squeals, hands bunched by his chest, and looking fit to burst. "It's the Grand Champion! I can't believe it's you! Standing here! Next to me!" The Black Arrow drives her ammunition back into its quarrel. "What do you want?" The boy has a book and stick of graphite. If he just wants a signature… She thinks she could deal with that. "I saw your fight against the Gray Prince! You're the best! Can I…" He suddenly goes shy. "You want an autograph? Sure." "No! Well, I mean, yes, but…" "Spit it out." "Can I follow you around? I won't get in the way, I promise." Her head spins. "What?" "I could– Carry your weapon. Or shine your boots. Announce you to your enemies. Anything you need!" The boy is a bosmer, like Brellin. So young. Her guts churn. Never again. "Please? I just want to follow–" "No!" He stares at her with wide, shocked eyes. "Piss off!" she yells. He takes a step back, autograph book clutched like a shield. "I don't need some spineless, toadying little shit hanging around me." "Are…" His voice wavers, too much courage for his own good. "Are you sure?" "Fuck off. Go on, toerag, get gone!" He takes another step back. "But– I–" In a blur of movement, one of her arrows, with their special fletching, is nocked on her bowstring. Drawn back. Pointing at him. His trews darken at the crotch. "I said: Leave." He utters a wordless, fearful, anguished cry and flees. The Black Arrow relaxes her bowstring, replaces her arrow. Nausea fills her from head to toe. Crusader of folly. She grips at the deprecating moniker as hard as the bow in her bloodless hands. Never again.

[druidx]

Director's Commentary for Abecean Blue?

Hi 'Mous!

Abecean Blue is based on a thing that the talented wispstalk posted, about turning the Enya song "Caribbean Blue" into "Abecean Blue". Trust me to take a shitpost too far, eh? 😅️

I did a fair amount of in-game research for this, wandering along the shores of Torpal Bay, the Abecean Sea, Lake Rumare, and this one pond in the Jerrals near the Sidri-Ashak Rune Stone, just looking at the colours and thinking.

When it came to writing, I deliberately went for something with a looser, more poetic style, because I knew from the get-go it was going to be a sad piece. Grief - at least, as I've experienced it - is never a concrete thing, instead being more abstract and wavering. That was something I wanted to capture: the unreality of losing someone you love, and of the disconnect in remembering them.

Another deliberate choice was the avoidance of Martin's name until the very end. It's clear, I think, who is being mourned, but I wanted to save his name for that little extra gut-punch at the end (because I'm a bastard like that).

I am so unbelievably proud of how well it turned out. The descriptions in this are some of the best I think I've ever written. I was so thrilled when everyone latched onto "sparkling high, bright as a spriggan's laugh" because it was one of those lines that you know is perfect the moment it's written, and I would have been pissed if it had skated by unnoticed 😅️

Two final things on this one: I really enjoyed digging into the lore from ESO(?) that states that water is memory, and how it ties directly into how Rihanon is grieving and remembering Martin.

The end of this one is one of my favourite endings I've ever written, on par with the end of Marble Tombs. I enjoy the circularity of it, and how uplifting it is. And especially how Rhiannon "grasps with eyes unburdened" - she's not just seeing that Martin was right about how pretty the Abecean is; she's also seeing a way forward, and allowing herself to envision her future.

Thank you for the question, and for letting me waffle about one of my favourite pieces

🫖️🌿️

[nine-blessed-hero]

Oh, my. What a damned good question.

K'Rin - Loath. Despise. She wouldn't even touch Instagram or Twitter with a 10-ft barge pole if you gave her the option. That said, she would do it if you told her it was her duty to Martin/ the Empire/ the Divines (delete as appropriate), but she would hate it the whole time (she wouldn't even complain, just silently stew and suffer).

Rowan - Xe might have a bit of fun with it at first, but it would quickly lose the novelty and xe would eventually just ghost the account. Satellite accounts would spring up, reporting on xir whereabouts with increasing weirdness of location and activity, until it's obvious that xe's fucking with everyone for xir own amusement.

Talis - Talis is like Amaury Guichon, aka The Chocolate Guy. As long as he doesn't need to talk and someone else deals with ~everything else~, it might be fun. He just wants to share his passion for patisserie. Rindir would make so much money, and eventually, there'd be a whole thing about how Rindir is taking advantage of the sweet little baker boi. Rindir would be cancelled/ doxxed etc, Talis and Ysbth would need new jobs... It would be a mess.

Aderyn - It's really hard to be a sneaky little sneaker if everyone knows your face, but the free stuff does have its appeal... Ultimately though, no.

Arianrhod - Yes. She would be all over that. She'd be quite happy with the MLM schemes, she's got the whole suburban housewife vibe. Not only would she enjoy it and be good at it, I think she'd be reasonably popular too.

Kicks - As the walking embodiment of "he a little confused, but he got the spirit", he would enjoy it. But only because he's getting free stuff and he doesn't actually know what's going on (someone else would be managing him).

some thoughts on TES OC development. i'm a big believer that people who crave fame are generally assholes. take it as a given that there are degrees to this and that "asshole" is a liquid term and not some inherent moral cateogry.

the elder scrolls protagonists become famous over the course of their quests: the eternal champion, nerevar reincarnate, the hero of kvatch, the dragonborn. legendary titles that become part of the lore even if the names and faces are lost. they begin as prisoners, the fame is not really a choice. one two skip a few, we all get the symbolism here, but if you're trying to understand the core of your character, ask yourself:

would they, in any way, enjoy being an instagram influencer?

[nine-blessed-hero]

Wrote a random little thing based on this post (a reminder about canonical existence of telepathy bonds between a master wizard and their apprentice). IDK if I'll do anything more with it - I quite like it as a flashfic.

The first time it happened, she thought she was hallucinating; some vapours from her current concoction making ghosts call her name.

The second time, she thought she was dreaming; seemingly woken from slumber by silvery whispers, the back gem on her desk pulsing with eldritch light, only for everything to darken and quiet and for her to fall back into a sound slumber.

The third time she was writing, taking notes after some experiment. Daylight streamed through the door to the balcony, the air was crisp, and she as sober as a heart attack.

"Kellandrah..."

There was no mistaking the voice of a dead man. There was no mistaking the glimmer of light around the black soul gem. And, when she placed her hand upon it, there was no mistaking the spectral shimmer of Hannibal Traven.

[nine-blessed-hero]

The Reconsecration of Anvil

Warnings: Fantasy religion & rites Words: 691 Notes: After the Knights of the Nine quest is over, no new priestess is added to the Anvil chapel, so I created Fihrah to fill that spot. The timing of this, re the MQ, is after Martin's dropped off at Cloud Ruler, but before any other continuation.

–

She sings as she lights the candles, clear voice lofting with hymns learnt far from Anvil's fresh, salted air. Around her, the great chapel glows with holy light, dappled patterns flickering through newly woven lace banners. It was the new Primate of Dibella, Selene Duronia, who requested her assistance; it was only right, the Primate said, that Lorinda Rue, the Divine Lord Crusader, help re-consecrate that which she saved.

The candles lit, the crystalline notes of her song evaporate into the air, and Lorinda (not Rin nor Kel – not here) takes her palace at the Primate's side. Communal voices swell to the rafters as another hymn is sung; for of all the Divines, Dibella prizes music most.

Then come the offerings from prominent members of the congregation. Lorinda receives them, presenting them to the Primate who anoints them with scented oil from an Abalone shell, to be placed by the Lord Crusader at the appropriate point on the octagonal altar. From the Countess Millona, a piece of needlework for the place of Zenithar. From Azzan of the Fighters Guild, a fine silver blade for the place of Stendarr. From the victualler Wilbur, a goblet of good wine is set at Mara's place. From Newheim the harbourmaster comes a piece of rigging-rope in a decorative knot for the place of Kynareth. From Carahil of the Mages Guild, a scroll of Greater Fortify Intelligence for the place of Julianos. From the artist Astia, a sculpture made of fishbones for the place of Arkay. For the One is given an enchanted gauntlet from the blacksmith Varel. From the nameless Prophet, a tiny golden dragon to be set at Akatosh's place – and a pang in her breast for the man she abandoned at the Blades' temple.

With each flick of oil from the iridescent shell, goosebumps shiver Lorinda's flesh, hidden under the layers of the Crusader's armour. With each settling of an offering on the altar, the fine hairs on her arms crawl, as if a storm is coming.

The final item, a sacred lotus flower made from blushing glass, is brought by Fihrah, the chapel's new priestess. She waits, head bowed, while the Primate sings a prayer, inviting Dibella to return to the place prepared for her, marking the effort which has gone into making the chapel a true place of worship once again. As the last note fades from the air, Lordina steps forward to address Fihrah and perform the call-and-response – a repetitious set of questions in the form of a melodic chant, eliciting from the priestess her vows to keep the chapel in good stead.

With each question answered satisfactorily, Lordina accepts the glass flower. As she turns, the Crusader's armour feels weighted; as if the stains upon it are fresh once more and she brought low from the fight's vivacity. Each step towards the altar is like swimming against a tide, her hair frizzing from the constricting braids. Lorinda presses on – the distance is so short but every sensation is slowed to a crawl. She lifts the beautiful glass flower, scared of it tipping from arms that tremble under a phantasmal weight. The offerings glitter and spark in the hypnotic swaying of the candles as Lorinda finally stands beside the altar. The air presses close, like high summer's noon in the Nibenay, the scent of the flowers an almost physical thing.

With shaking hands, Dibella's symbol is lowered into the catinus at the center of the altar. The flower tochs in place. The air snaps like a loosed bowstring. There is no roll of thunder. The candles do not flare. The wind gives naught but a breathy sigh as Kellandra Rhiannon Lorinda Rue, Divine Crusader, sinks to her knees in relief and apparent reverence.

When she'd first arrived, the chapel had felt distant and cold. Empty, like a ruined fort; a shell of stone and nothing more. Now, though. Now the light glows that much golder. There is a sense of warmth and love, like being hugged by an affectionate khajiit. A member of the congregation gasps. Lorinda manages to raise her head – and grins. The glass lotus shimmers with light. Dibella has come home.

[nine-blessed-hero]

Abecean Blue

CW: grief, major character death Summary: HoK, Rin, listens to Martin extol the virtues of the Abecean sea; then takes a dip in it's waters after his death

Podfic version, read by me.

Original: Tumblr || AO3 Podfic also available on AO3

[druidx]

Ooh this one took a lot of thought.

Probably Millicent Wauters (FF/Titan) - she's very arts & crafty.

Beyond her (in a modern AU at least) K'Rin L'Rue (TESIV Oblivion). Rin is very fidgety, and in the game-world would be more likely to do alchemy to take her mind off things. But that's a very intricate and patient activity, which I think would translate well to making origami. I rather suspect she'd be the sort of person who'd end up with jars and jars of those cute little stars.

hey @stsmgm here’s an open question for your Saturday!

 Of your characters, who’s the most likely to distract themself (from boredom/pressing concerns/Plot etc) by making many pieces of origami art?

[nine-blessed-hero]

Yoinking an open tag from @bretongirlwrites

I'm on a little bit of a K'Rin kick, so I'll do this for her. (I know this is supposed to be a Skyrim thing, but IMO most of the questions are generic enough I can make it about Oblivion)

Favourite tavern

Rin doesn't drink (ignoring that one time in Aleswell), and with a Guild chapter in each town she rarely needs to use an inn's bed.

But at a push, she'd say the Cheydinhal Bridge Inn. It's cosy, clean, and Mariana Ancharia runs a respectable business.

Favourite drink

Some kind of fruit juice (apple, blackberry, tomato) or small beer (a la what IRL medieval peasants would have drunk).

Travelling companion

None. After the events during the Knights of the Nine, Rin cannot stand the idea of losing anyone else like that.

When Raminus mentions it might be beneficial for the apprentice wizards to accompany her, she baulks at the idea of dragging one into danger - if Geimund, a trained warrior, didn't survive, then what hope for an untrained welp?

This also hits home when she meets the Adoring Fan. She's unnecessarily rude to him in an attempt to dissuade him from following her.

Wealthy or not

As a skilled alchemist, Rin has a healthy income (when time allows), however most of her income goes to keeping her enchanted items charged or feeding the poor. I'd put her on the lower end of comfortable.

Worships the aedra or the daedra

Aedra, with a primary focus on Mara, and secondary focuses on Zenithar and Stendarr. Part of this is how she was raised, but part of this is after a lot of self-reflection during the Knights of the Nine pilgrimages she performs.

Biggest fear

That she's met her biological parents... and killed one or both in self-defence. There is nothing to indicate who they were, she might even only be half-redguard. Rin has no idea. The first time she was attacked at a camp by a redguard woman, Rin had nightmares about it for ages, the "what if" sending her into a nosedive.

Pet peeves

When people are unduly rude to beggars. In her early days, she was too timid to do anything about them but made up for other people's rudeness by pressing food, medicines and money into the beggar's hands. As she gained fame, Rin became bolder about confronting these types of people.

Do they like being Hero of Kvatch/ Champion of Cyrodiil?

She is ambivalent about both titles.

Jauffre asked her to do a task; that task entailed closing an Oblivion Gate, so she did so. It's nothing really to make a fuss about, but people will do so regardless of what she wants, so she may as well be gracious about it.

Similarly, she isn't keen on being Champion, but she understands duty; and her duty is to support Ocato and the Elder Council in their efforts to rebuild Cyrodiil. Her thoughts are always with the common folk, keeping peace and remaining compassionate to their issues; literally being their champion. She thinks that's what Martin would have wanted.

Favourite faction

Perhaps surprisingly, it's the Thieves Guild. She strongly admires the Grey Fox's commitment to protecting the poor of each city and his "robin hood" approach to thievery.

An object of sentimental value

I've struggled with this question a lot. I've kept plenty of knickknacks from my playthrough, but none of what I've kept has seemed like something Rin would keep. And she has nothing to tie her to her old life either, except the house in Bravil.

I may come up with something later, but for now, I'll say she's too practical, and not sentimental enough to keep a specific item.

Hobbies

"Hob-bee? Hobb- No. Nope, sorry. Is that Ayleidoon?" Rin is too serious for her own good. Her "hobbies" include doing alchemy, running through her martial practice, and chatting with her fellow Blades.

Favourite city

She still retains a lot of love for her home of Bravil, but it's Anvil that has her heart. It's warm, the scenery (when she takes time to explore it properly) is beautiful, the food outstanding, and the people friendly. It's restive and tranquil; an easy place to love.

(But between you, me, and the walls, her favourite place in Cyrodiil is the West Weald)

Tagging: I don't know anyone who hasn't done this yet, so if anyone fancies it - you're tagged.

[nine-blessed-hero]

The Foundling

Universe: TES IV: Oblivion CW: Child abandonment, fantasy religion Words: 605 (2 pages, 6 panels) Context: Sometimes, the universe wants things done in a specific way; who am I, mere conduit of tales, to argue? I've never written a comic script in my life -- please be kind. That said, constructive criticism is welcome on this piece. Read on AO3

PAGE 1

1– full-width panel, 2/3rds-page height.

The Chapel of Mara: Chapel Hall. Pale stone arches rise in a classical cloister, golden flame from wall sconces illuminating the scene. We can see the end of the dining table, but our attention is focused on the cross corridors which lead from left and right, and the open door which leads into a bedroom.

MARZ, a pale rose and lime green argonian, and URAVASA OTHRELAS, a teal dunmer, already stand clustered in the cross of the corridor in their nightgowns. The Altmer Primate, SOLIRIL, is joining them, tying the band of his housecoat.

Across the scene is an overlay of a sound effect: "Whaaaa-" going from small to medium letter size.

2– half-page width, 1/3rd-page height

Still in Chapel Hall. Tight on the group of people

SOLIRIL, scowling: What on Nirn is that racket?

MARZ, head turned to look behind the "camera": It's coming from the chapel.

3–  half-page width, 1/3rd-page hight

The Chapel of Mara: Chapel Hall. We're now looking the other way. The same cloister walls and sconces, but now we can see more of the dark wood dining table, already set for the morning meal, the wooden sideboard and kitchen area.

SOLIRIL now has his back to the camera, marching towards the closed wooden door at the other end of the Hall.

The overlay text, "-aaaaaah-" is bigger towards the door

SOLIRIL: Then we'd best investigate, hadn't we?

PAGE 2

1– 2/3 page width, 2/3 page height, to the left

The Chapel of Mara. The angle is from the POV of the characters. The Chapel proper is a voluminous room, lit only by patterned coloured moonlight, angled in from one side of the building. Grand, fluted columns of pale stone rise towards the ceiling, and dark wooden pews make an aisle towards the great altar. The altar is octagonal and made from the same light stone as the rest of the chapel. It sits on a two-step octagonal dais of dark grey stone. It is decorated with drapes of ruby-red fabric that gap at each corner. Leading from it is a short measure of dark red and gold-edged carpet. Directly behind it can be seen the blue stained glass window depicting the Aedra, Mara.

SOLIRIL, MARZ and URAVASA are silhouetted busts at the bottom of the panel, looking away from the "camera", into the chapel proper.

The overlay text, "Whaaa! -hic- Ahhhh! -hic- Whaaaa!" is big now, curving over the top of the panel towards a bundle of cloth on the great altar.

URAVASA, whispering: It's coming from the altar...

MARZ, also whispering: It sounds like...

2– 1/3 page width, full page height, to the right

The Chapel of Mara. Panned out, so the "camera" is looking down from somewhere near the roof.

MARZ is approaching the altar, only a few meters away. URAVASA and SOLIRIL trail behind, a few pews back.

3– 2/3 page width, 1/3 page height, to the left

The Chapel of Mara: Great altar. A closeup of the top of the altar. It has a span of half a meter, before dipping away into a bowl in the centre. We can see that the altar cloth is finely woven and looks expensive; the inner border is embroidered with gold thread. The bundle of cloth, in comparison, is dirty brown and coarsely woven.

MARZ's green-scaled hand is reaching into the frame, uncovering the head, torso and arms of a human BABY. The BABY has ruddy-brown skin and a smattering of black close-coiled hair. Its eyes are scrunched closed, pink mouth wide, and fists balled.

MARZ: A child...

[nine-blessed-hero]

OCs - Who the hell is: Kellandra Rhiannon Lorinda Rue

(A "short" Original Character primer)

➼ Universe:

TES IV: Oblivion (vanilla)

➼ What does she look like?

Rin, like many redguards, is tall, well-built, and has dark skin. She uses a combination of lye and citrus juice to bleach her hair, for backstory reasons.

She's most comfortable in her armour and tends to stick to the Knights of the Nine full-plate mail. However, when she's performing alchemy, she prefers to dress in whatever light robe or clothing is available. Usually, this is her Apprentice Robes (another stain or two won't make a difference), but she's also been known to wear the Light Blue Regalia too, as this is what she considers to be "civilian" clothing.

➼ What's she like?

Rin is very forthright, law-abiding and stern. However, she also has a penchant for not understanding sarcasm, being awkward in social situations, and taking instructions very literally.

Despite being very intelligent, she's not very worldly-wise (unsurprising due to her cloistered upbringing) so she's missing a lot of "common" knowledge. This cloistered upbringing and an abusive father also means she has some self-esteem issues, and often feels she's in the way or taking up time and resources that she shouldn't be.

➼ Who are the main important people in her life?

Marz – As the Healer in the Chapel of Mara, Marz is the one who taught Rin the basics of alchemy, against her father's wishes. Marz was also one of the few positive influences in Rin's early life, and Rin looked to her as a mother figure. Rin was devastated by her death at the hands of Umaril's Aurorans, far more so than when Rin learned of her father's death.

Methredhel – Rin and the thief became fast friends after going out for some "no hard feelings" drinks after their competition to get into the Thieves guild, and have remained close – and maybe a little more – ever since.

Baurus – As a fellow redguard whom she's "allowed" to become close with, Rin looks up to Baurus a lot and often takes his word on redguard culture as gospel.

➼ Can you give us a highlight reel of her life?

A foundling of Bravil, Rin was adopted as a toddler by Soliril 'Rue, a priest of Mara.

As soon as she could hold a broom, Rin's life was duty, subservience, and toil.

In her pre-teens, Soliril enrolled Rin in Castle Bravil's Junior Guards*, so learning weaponry and warfare were added to the already strenuous list of activities expected of her. It was here she saw the power of Alchemy in Marz's hands.

Rin didn't get the courage to speak to Marz about it for another few years. They spoke while at Chapel, and Rin was amazed at the power a few leaves and petals could have. Marz then began techning Rin in stolen moments.

Eventually, Marz thought Rin was good enough to enter the Mages guild. She spoke to Ardaline, the Bravil Chapter Alchemist on Rin's behalf. Ardaline, not knowing this was a secret, spoke to Soliril, who became furious that his "stupid" daughter was trying to learn magic. He flew into a rage and beat Rin. She fled the city and was caught on The Green Road trying to steal food from an Imperial Guard. He took pity on her distress at being taken back to Bravil, so she was dumped in an empty cell in the Imperial Prison.

After meeting Martin, she was plagued with nightmares of his death. That, and her sudden freedom, was what turned her from further helping in the Main Quest for a while. Instead, she finally joined the Mages guild. While in Anvil, she heard the prophet, and back in Bravil she looked through the mysterious door – but didn't stay long**. Likewise, she became ashamed of herself for being drawn by the allure of the Grey Fox and never got higher than Prowler. After taking the pilgrimage again, Rin turned her attention to the ever-growing threat of the Oblivion gates, eventually returning to Martin and joining the Blades in their fight.

* I don't have a better name for what this might be, so hush for now...

** I'm retconning a lot of stuff mentioned in Not Alone to better suit how the character has developed. At some point, I'll rewrite that story.

➼ What points in her life are you writing about?

From the start of the game forward. I haven't really felt inclined to write much about her backstory.

➼ Who is she in real-world development terms?

Rin is an offshoot of my main playthrough (Rowan/ This-Page-Left-Blank-HoK being the other). Over the past few years, Rin and Rowan have diverged considerably, and I now consider them to be very separate characters, each taking a different path through the quest lines.

As the two characters diverged, I realised Rin needed a real name. My character name in-game is Dru I (I somehow forgot this wasn't a hardcore game and I wouldn't need to re-roll a dozen characters and name them Dru II-XII), so I decided to reuse a name which has blessed many of my characters. Unlike the others, this K'Rin L'Rue prefers being known as Rin or Rhiannon. I don't yet have a good lore explanation for her long-ass name, though it could be related to the Aldmeri tradition of lengthy full names (even though her name is only passingly lore-friendly in that regard – if you tilt your head a squint a bit).

Re: Rin's unusual hair – I have a habit of setting my character's hair to be the lightest possible so I can find them in games, forgetting entirely that Oblivion is a First Person rather than a Top Down game, so I wanted to find a lore-friendly reasoning for why it's that colour... and ended up with racist father...

[nine-blessed-hero]

Bleach

CW: Fantasy racism, Implied child abuse

Summary: Baurus and Rhiannon have a discussion on the subtext of bleaching one's hair as a Redguard.

Author's Note: If you have concerns about any ideas I've presented concerning the fantasy racism in this piece, please reach out.

Podfic version, read by me.

Original: Tumblr || AO3 Podfic also available on AO3

[nine-blessed-hero]

I've just seen a fantastic headcanon/ lore post - How To Create an Altmer Full Name - and it's got me thinking a bit about K'Rin's full name, and her Father's full name.

I knew that Altmer names were impossibly long, and that's why most you meet just have their given name. I'd wanted to give Soliril a full and proper Altmer name, but had no idea how to do it, so seeing the potential pattern laid out is really handy.

Currently K'Rin's full name is Kellandra Rhiannon Lorinda Rue, and her Father's is Soliril 'Rue.

So using the pattern in that post:

(Given Name) 'len (mother grandfather grandmother) 'ata (father grandfather grandmother), 'cal (family surname)

I think it's safe to surmise that 'Rue' is their clan name (IDK what it might 'mean' at this stage**):

Kellandra Rhiannon Lorinda 'cal Rue Soliril 'cal Rue

Now, as a foundling, no one knows who 'Rin's birth parents are. Soliril knows his own line, of course, and when he takes 'Rin as his daughter he can't do anything but give her an Altmer given name - despite her race - so it follows that when he agrees to raise her, her name is:

Kellandra 'ata Soliril Lorinda Rhiannon 'cal Rue*

And then that means that her father's becomes:

Soliril 'len Rhiannon 'ata Lorinda 'cal Rue

Soliril just needs some grandparents, and his name is all good to go.

Soliril 'len Rhiannon Nondor Carawen 'ata Lorinda Itumil Valilore 'cal Rue

However, what's happened to "Soliril" in 'Rin's name? Well, her father is quite the bastard, and as the reader, we meet 'Rin well after she's been released from jail. During Not Alone, she expresses her hatred of her Father, so it stands to reason she's culled his name from her list, along with the extra Altmer prefixes. She runs away to start with because she wants her freedom from him, and part of this means reimagining herself. But she still can't bear to part with her name, so she just fiddles with it a bit to make it her own, rather than just an inherited thing. This would also explain the way she plays with it, mixing and matching to produce, for example, Kellandra as her given, and Lorinda as a surname (which is what she registers into the Mages Guild under).

* Lorinda seems more of a male name than Rhiannon, which is why I've changed their placement. Maybe Rin gets confused at a later date on learning the structure, so she swaps them around to be Father Grandmother Grandfather. Or she just wants to rearrange it in a pattern that sounds nicest

** Regarding the meaning of "Rue":

In the UESP's Ayleidoon dictionary, I found the word "Rautane", which means "Heard". With an fantastic leaps of linguistics, the word could have been contracted or morphed into "Raue" > "Rue", meaning someone who listens as a job, such a counselor or judge. IDK, it still needs work.

[nine-blessed-hero]

About a Mentor

CW: Alcohol mention, self-esteem issues Summary: On a winter's night at Cloud Ruler Temple, a question is posed - one which Rhiannon is reluctant to answer.

Podfic version, read by me.

Original: Tumblr || AO3 Podfic also available on AO3

[nine-blessed-hero]

Abecean Blue

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion Context: Ever since @wispstalk posted that thing about lore-friendly Enya and "Abecean Blue", that phrase has been stuck in my head. Have some mild angst with a side of metaphorical metaphysics. CW: Mild grief Words: 514

"That colour looks good on you," he'd told her once, with a soft smile. "Abecean blue is so bold, striking. Just like you."

The breeze whips the water gathering in her eyes, sending a quicksilver cascade down bronzed cheeks.

"What's Abecean?" she'd asked.  "It's not a 'what', it's a 'where'." Achille had flicked a game tile at her. She'd flicked it back, as Caroline had asked, "You don't know the Abecean Sea?"

Overhead the sun blazes in a crystal-cut sky. Sand the colour of sunset-touched snow scrunches beneath bare toes.

He, the son of a farmer, had been patient with her, foundling of Bravil. They'd brought out a map to show her where it was.

"You must have been to Anvil," Achille says, "what with the chapter house down there, Arch-Mage." She has, but, "the furthest I ventured outside the town was into the wooded dunes, to find Alawen, mistress of the Fletch."

The Tafl board is abandoned, as Achille launches into waxing lyrical about the fair golden sands which stretch for miles along the coast; the dramatic cliffs; the sole, the longfin, and the samphire grass.

The farmer's son sits with his hands folded in his lap, that soft smile creasing the corners of his eyes as he listens. At some point, he interrupts Achille's flow– The sails of the ships, he says, are as white as the gulls which nest in the dunes. The richness of the breeze is like nowhere else – not even the air in Leyawiin, where the Niben meets Topal Bay, has the same umami-fresh tang. But the water! Oh, the Abecean herself! Nowhere in Cyrodiil is like it, says the well-travelled farmer's boy. The rivers of pale snowmelt cascading down the Valus, the deep slate waters of Lake Rumare, the rusty burns across Colovia, the silver of Topal Bay... All beautiful in their own right, but none of them can compare to the richness of the Abecean. The deep indigo depths; the glittering, frosted wave-tips, where every breaking crest is a rainbow of colour; the bath-water-warm shallows of translucent azure. Swimming in the Abecean Sea, says the farmer's son, is a dream of diving through the sky.

When she licks her lips, she doesn't know which salt she tastes – that carried on the air, or that carried by her sorrow.

At the border of scrubby grass, the velvet outfit of bold, deep blue lies abandoned. Where she stands on the damp sand, the wavelets bat at her feet, like a cat with a mouse. Across the water, the undulating surface glitters, sparkling high, bright as a spriggan's laugh. A few steps deeper, and it's like stepping into a bath. The blood-warm water rises to her waist, and she takes the plunge. Over the shelf, and through the azure brightness, down into the indigo depths.

When Rhiannon rises, salt-water sluicing from her face and surrounded by the memory of Martin, she finally grasps with eyes unburdened. Sky and sea meld as one. She swims in a dream, between the above and the below; in this striking, bold, Abecean blue.

[druidx]

Name Meaning Tag Game

This tag game was shamelessly stolen from olibavee. I'm going to grab a few OCs from across a range of universes.

Rules: Search and post the meaning of your OCs’ names (if you made their name up or they go by a nickname, post an explanation of how it came to you)! Bonus if you can find something for their last name too

Alexis Dalliance (FF/Titan)

"Alexis" is from the Greek name Ἄλεξις (Alexis), meaning "helper" or "defender". Apparently, this can also mean "defender of man".

"Dalliance" has no meaning as a surname, but I like to think 'Lex's mother took it for herself to show the twicelings she was an adventurer.

Asuka Rackell (The MOW Files)

"Asuka" is from the Japanese 明日 (asu) meaning "tomorrow" and 香 (ka) meaning "fragrance", or from 飛 (asu) meaning "to fly" and 鳥 (ka) meaning "bird". I prefer the latter meaning for this character.

"Rackell" has no meaning as a surname. Sadly, how I came up with this surname has been lost to time.

Elowyn O’Toreguarde (FF/Titan)

“Elowyn” or “Elowin” means “Elm” in Cornish. In French folklore, the elm is the judge or arbiter of the woods, which suits Elo’s personality.

"O’Toreguarde" is just "Of Toreguarde", aka the city she lives in, as she lost her surname when her first home was destroyed.

Farren Breakwood (FF/Titan)

"Farren" was something I made up by tacking an F on "Darren", but the internet variously thinks it means "Iron-grey colour", a diminutive form of Ferdinand ("journey ready"), "adventurous", "the land", "pilferer or ferret", or "handsome servant". For this character, "handsome ferret" works best :D

"Breakwood" has no meaning, but perhaps his distant ancestors were lumberjacks...

Gurn Tepper (The MOW Files)

"Gurn" does not exist as a name, and I do not recall how I came up with it -.-' Wikipedia suggests that to gurn is "to snarl as a dog; to look savage; to distort the countenance", so that's now what it means.

"Tepper" apparently means to be a "tavern owner", or a "wine or beer merchant".

Kathryn Scott (The Cryptid Series)

"Kathryn" (and its variant spellings) has a huge list of potential meanings. I like "each of the two" for this character.

"Scott" is quite simply "a person from Scotland"

Kellandra Rhiannon Lorinda Rue (TES: Oblivion)

"Kellandra" does not exist as a real name, though variant spellings on the internet give the meaning as "a light" or "peace-loving". This was created waaay back in my school days when I realised I needed "K'Rin" (the MC in Tusomov) to be a diminutive for something.

"Rhiannon", is apparently from the Celtic *Rīgantonā, meaning "great queen". In the original story, it was spelt Rinonn, which may have been my corruption of "Rhiannon", based on the Fleetwood Mac song.

"Lorinda" is a variant of "Laura", meaning "laurel".

"Rue" is apparently from a French word, "ruelle", meaning "lane or alley".

Sophie Aderyn Griffiths (nee Williams) (TES: Oblivion)

"Sophie" is a variant spelling, and apparently means "wisdom".

"Aderyn" is literally translated from Welsh as "bird".

"Griffiths" means "son of Gruffudd" (and "Gruffudd" means "strong prince" which I had no idea about and is hilarious in the context of the character)

"Williams" apparently means "son of William" (and "William" means "will helmet")

This was a fun exercise. Some of these names were chosen for the meanings, others because they fit the shape of the character - so the meanings of those have been a surprise!

Tagging: @strosmkai-rum @spacetimewraithwrites @wildswrites @tetrodotoxincs @odysseywritings @ayzrules @morganwriteblr @my-writblr @bexminx @writingingraves @dreamwishing @aalinaaaaaa @wardenoftheabyss

[nine-blessed-hero]

I forgot how much I enjoy writing pre-bastardization Rowan.

Where Rhiannon is the Perfect Knight (Yes, Emperor, whatever you say, Emperor), and Aderyn doesn't give a single flying shit about how to "behave" in "proper" company, Rowan is this middle ground.

Xe is far too like Martin for anybody's taste -- both prideful in their own ways, devoted to the Cause, convinced they know what's Right. On good days, they're one helluva team, but when something's off there's this (delightful to me) friction of two people who are too alike clashing, like tectonic plates shifting along a faultline. They bicker like siblings, and it's usually everyone else in the Temple that feels the effects, than the two arguing at the epicentre.

Rowan on xir own makes me happy when I write, but together they make me very gleeful indeed.