#rolff stone-fist

[dynamite124]

Going around Windhelm with a dunmer pc and hearing Tal say “he’ll take care of it” if the locals bother them makes me giggle, but it also makes me wonder because what exactly would Tal do to someone being a dickhead towards the pc?

Don't worry, he's just sleeping...

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

I feel like some people sleep on how evil Sanguine could be

Explanation under cut

TW for mentions of alcoholism, addiction, child abuse and domestic abuse

Most people depict him as prankster, a party animal, a guy who just likes to have fun and while that's fine and in some ways true this is not entirely who Sanguine is

He is the reason addiction is running rampant and so many lives are being destroyed because of addiction

Every spouse and child who lives in fear because they don't know if their spouse and parent are gonna come home as an angry drunk again

Every abusive alcoholic exists because of Sanguine and if he truly wanted to he could fuck over the entire world by having the main hero get wasted which he almost did in A Night To Remember which he did simply because he wanted to have a night of merriment for his own amusement

Sanguine is partially the reason people like Rolff Stone-Fist and Vulwulf Snow-Shod

I feel like people downplay Sanguine the same way they downplay Sheogorath

Just because they are the more "fun" Princes when they're so much more wicked

Sheogorath has done many terrible things to mortals and his fellow Princes out of shere boredom and Bethesda themselves assist in this downplay of Sheogorath because "old cheese man funny"

I feel like lot of the Princes in general get downplayed a lot (minus Molag) as a lot of people portray Vile as this mischievous little boy who is also a dog lover when the canon Vile is more based on the folklore version of Satan and he loathes Barbas because Barbas is his moral compass and he hates morals

Idk I just kinda wish The Daedric Princes were portrayed more evily as like the only non evil Prince is Azura

[nostalgic-breton-girl]

love that punching the living daylights out of rolff stone-fist counts as ‘helping the people of eastmarch’

[libartz]

[lisanees]

Immersive Lore-Friendly Rolff Stone-Fist Execution

[omgkalyppso]

Meldiara: beating this man in a fist fight isn't enough I need to [redacted]

[akaviri-dovah]

I think we've all learned from the sexyman poll that while Ulfric is deeply flawed, he is... not the worst. He's an interesting case. At the very least he's got his intentions for his people in the right direction... but only his people and no one else.

Rolff is just nothing more than an ass through and through.

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Galmar Stone-fist: You're wasting your life.

Rolff Stone-fist: I am not. What you call wasting, I call living. I'm living my life.

Galmar: Okay, like what? No, tell me. Do you have a job?

Rolff: No.

Galmar: You got money?

Rolff: No.

Galmar: Do you have a woman?

Rolff: No.

Galmar: Do you have any prospects?

Rolff: No.

Galmar: You got anything on the horizon?

Rolff: Uh, no.

Galmar: Do you have any action at all?

Rolff: No.

Galmar: Do you have any conceivable reason for even getting up in the morning?

Rolff: I like to harass the grey skins.

[helgiafterdark]

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

Windhelm guard, inspecting Rolff Stone-Fist's body: "He's dead..."

LDB: *yawns*

Windhelm guard: "....."

LDB, sarcastically: "Not the dickhead!"

LDB: "What do you want me to say?"

[sylvienerevarine]

by far my proudest skyrim moment

[whitegoldtower]

My masterlist of Skyrim takes:

Both the Imperials and Stormcloaks can eat my ass.

Isran is a piece of shit

I don’t like Brynjolf.

Ancano, Vingalmo, Ondolemar, Garan Marethi, Teldryn Sero and Arch-Curate Vyrthur are the hottest male NPCs.

The companions are a flop.

Ysgramor and Wuuthrad suck.

Muiri’s unsolicited affections gave me the ick

Morthal is my favourite area.

The Ravencrone and Blackbriar women could get it any day.

I’d fuck a hagraven out of curiosity.

Frostbite spiders are adorable

I love Cicero’s voice.

Nazeem is just funny. So are the girls at Radiant Raiment. They all served cunt.

The Reach is for the Forsworn.

In every playthrough I make sure to beat the shit out of Rolff Stone-Fist and scare the fuck out of Mikael.

Mage and double dagger runs are the best.

Destruction and Conjuration are lazy.

My favourite discreet way to assassinate annoying NPCs is to reverse pickpocket poisons and poisoned apples into their inventories, sit back and watch. Alternatively, I like casting frenzy / reverse pickpocketing frenzy potions into their inventories and watching chaos unfold.

I have to purposely paralyse myself at least once in every playthrough, whether through licking Netch Jelly or chewing Corkbulb Root.

Idgrod Ravencrone is the best jarl.

Erikur deserves a slow death.

Delphine’s also a piece of shit.

Astrid instantly pissed me off.

I love just collecting and reading all the books.

The carriage driver Bjorlam (Whiterun) is SO HOT and for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Who made him so fine and why??

Ondolemar is a sweet baby. Even if you refuse to get the amulet for him, he doesn’t get pissy with you (unlike a certain touchy redheaded thief in Riften).

Some people get annoyed with Faendal showing up if you marry Camilla Valerius. I say two for the price of one, in this household we share. How can you be mad at getting a free bosmer femboy? A boyfriend of my wife’s is a boyfriend of mine.

(Will add more soon. If you want me to elaborate on any of these points, just drop an ask.)

[still-searching-for-something]

I like to imagine @gryficowa had an a Polish ancestor who was obsessed with barging into Jewish ghettos and spaces and being as loud, obnoxious, and antisemitic as they could be, and all the Polish Jews in those days would roll their eyes and remember That Specific Goy because that one was especially annoying. Like Rolff Stone-Fist spending his nights being loud and drunk in the Grey Quarter lmao. There's something amusing to me about the idea that @gryficowa could be following in their ancestor's footsteps and Jews have been rolling their eyes at their stupidity for generations

[thequeenofthewinter]

The Windhelm Heist

A little gift fic for the lovely and talented @rainpebble3 for her birthday. <3 May you have the greatest day and eat many snowberry and cheese danishes.

As he walked through the grim landscapes of Windhelm, the shades of grey continued to get dimmer and dimmer with every step. Monotonous blank nothing in every which direction. This was the reason Brynjolf always hated the place. Or was it the overwhelming sense of depression? The cutthroat air of self-serving politics? Perhaps the stale scent of rotting fish on the Docks?

Either way, he was sent with a job to do in Jarl Ulfric’s domain, and he has never been one to turn down a challenge. Even if it is bleeding money from stones.

While he made is way down to the Grey Quarter, he tried to not slip down the icy flagstones of half-crumbling stairways and sidestep past the falling debris from even more derelict buildings desperately in need of repairs. Everything everywhere was a death trap waiting to happen, and Bryn just happened to be the sad sod roped into going here. No matter. He’ll ask Delvin for double his usual fee for this job.

Who was he even supposed to see again? Brynjolf looked down at the paper where Delvin’s hastily-scribbled chicken scratch scrolled with the name of his target: Rolff Stone-Fist. Infamous ne’er-do-well the city’s biggest layabout other than his equally worthless partner in crime Angrenor Once-Honored.

His boots continued to slosh through the slop, loud steps causing him to inwardly cringe. How was anyone supposed to sneak anywhere with all this muck about? And after he rounded a few corners, came to even more dead ends, and looped around the same damned plaza three times, Brynjolf finally found his target—his grubby, meaty hands pushed against a Dunmer in some type of pathetic shakedown. Any seasoned thief would be able to see that the poor soul didn’t have more than three septims to rub together based on the threadbare clothing he was wearing and to add insult to injury, Rolff seemed to think it was funny to hurl slurs and rocks at him. 

It all came flooding back to him. This is why he has always hated Windhelm. The racist shit littering the streets.

Brynjolf grinned, the corners of his ginger moustache lifting gently as he chuckled under his breath. Like taking a sweet roll from a baby and much more enjoyable to boot.

“Are you Rolff Stone-Fist by any chance?” 

“What’s it to you outsider?” Rolff turned to Brynjolf, looking up and down as he swayed from where he stood. “I don’t have any business with you, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave well enough alone. My brother is Jarl Ulfric’s right hand man.”

Brynjolf resisted the urge to roll his eyes into high Aetherius as he lifted a brow and crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest. “I think I’ll be the judge of that, lad, and I am not afraid of Jarl Ulfric.”

“I’ll give you one last warning. I’m busy here, so piss off.”

“Busy with what exactly?” Brynjolf inclined his head, indicating the Dunmer Rolff had in his grasp. “Taking money from those that have none? Giving the Thieves’ Guild a bad name? Last I checked, your name wasn’t on the list. And none of our own would be so foolish to recruit a pissant like you.”

With a graceless and unbalanced shove, Rolff pushed the Dunmer aside and into the muddy slush, finally giving Brynjolf his full attention.

About time. There was nothing more than Brynjolf hated than to have his time wasted when he could be taking coin from unsuspecting targets. He narrowed his eyes and reached down to unsheathe the elven dagger at his side. “Come on then, lad. If you want a taste, I’m here.” 

Brynjolf motioned him forward, goading him on with one of his calloused palms as the smile on his face slid into a full grin. There was nothing he loved more than then idiotic targets made the wrong decision, especially when that decision made his job infinitely easier.

“I bet you’re working with them greyskins.” Rolff pushed off from the wall with unsteady hands with uncertain feet. “When I get my hands on your, I’ll have you thrown into the Bloodworks, you dirty thief.”

“Who’re you calling a dirty thief, eh? Sounds an awful like lot the pot calling the kettle black,” Brynjolf shifted slightly to the side, putting himself into position, “and you’re the worst of the two of us. Not even a proper thief.”

“I’ll make my money as I please. It’s not as if you lot have any honor anyway. Not like the Stormcloaks—"

“I’d be happy to teach you a thing or two about honor. Here, why don’t I help you?”

It was simple. As Rolff continued to approach him, unbalanced meaty fists and all, Brynjolf only stuck out one of his feet and allowed gravity to do the rest. The man fell, rolled, and went wooshing forward, momentum and stupidity doing more for him than anything else, until he landed soundly face-down into the slop of a nearby pigsty. 

As Rolff tried to get to him and free himself, mud and slush stuck to his body, weighing him down as he sloshed around in the filth on the ground.

“Now that’s more like it. A uniform you can be truly proud of.” Brynjolf reached down and plucked a bag of coin and a Guild badge from his possession. “Mess with us again, and we’ll do worse than this.” He whispered into his ear and pushed him down again solidly into the mud before turning away to leave Rolff in the muck where he belonged.

It wasn’t often that Brynjolf liked to go to get his hands dirty; however, this could be considered an exception.

[the-creature-22]

Val watching Freya deck Rolff Stone-Fist, and later Stig Salt-Plank:

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Galmar Stone-Fist, studying intelligence on the Imperials: Do you ever have just that one freaking class that depresses you when you think about it, because you hate it so much?

Rolff Stone-Fist: The grey skins.