#sacrifice his life for the good of nirn

[akaviri-dovah]

Do tell me all about your Mary Sue OC *rests chin on hands*

ahhhhh first of all I gotta say I'm so flattered that you followed me >w< I've been a fan of your art and writing for your while but that's another story for another day-

anyways about the character herself... I have A LOT to share, and the post editor doesn't like me so I apologise for taking so long on this, and thank you for your patience. I am going to start by saying that right from the start, before she even had a name, I thought her already dangerously close to being a mary sue due to her original purpose... shipping with one of my favourite canon characters.

this is Rumeranwen Malathelaere (or simply Rume), a 6'8 greatsword wielding high elf templar and my main character for ESO. though I haven't had much time to play the game I know enough to weave a story in my head about her, her love interest, and the forces threatening to tear them apart.

long ramble under the cut about her story, and all things about it I am worrying about making her a mary sue. spoilers abound. I'd like to hear opinions about this, also.

as is in the nature of all Elder Scrolls protagonists, it is in her hands that the fate of the world is placed. and not just once, either! though I plan to have multiple characters in my game and story, she is the one who takes the role of Vestige, completing the main quest as well as her alliance's questline, alongside the major DLC's.

Rume is a wonderful girl, for the most part: passionate, boisterous and energetic, righteous, and fearless (or at least claiming to be - there are some exceptions!). a true enjoyer of all the wonders Tamriel and its various peoples have to offer - see all the places, try all the food, pet all the creatures. but she is far from perfect: naive (especially after soul removal), stubborn, and a bit too impulsive for her own good, often learning things the hard way. not to mention that her engagement with other races puts her at odds with most of her fellow Altmer.

seems like quite a decent personality for the saviour of Tamriel, time and time again. but how did she get swept up into it all? why choose her (especially since she can put up quite the fight against any potential captors) to sacrifice and kick off the Planemeld, condemning her to an eternity of torment in Coldharbour?

simple, because she was the lover of Vanus Galerion. brought together by a certain Daedric Prince's playing matchmaker in an attempt to alleviate the Great Mage's troubled mind, and stayed that way for many years prior to the events of ESO. but sadly, it does not last, because Mannimarco (who in my and many others' interpretation is Vanus ex, who nevertheless wants him back) finds out and threatens them both. and so they separate for the time being, with Vanus going to confront Mannimarco alone and Rume left to wander Tamriel "as if she never knew him like she did" . but the Worm Cult's forces find her anyway, and proceed to capture her and drag her to Manni's lair, where he personally sacrifices her to Molag Bal.

but unlike so many others sacrificed in the same way, she returned to Nirn as if alive again due to her love for life itself being so deep and boundless, acting as an aedric force protecting her. but without a soul, she has no memory of her experiences from her previous mortal life. she does find Vanus again, much to his shock as he was given visions of her death. and especially since this Rume - though looking and sounding exactly the same as the Rume he knew and loved - does not recognise him at all.

things will get better for them, though. Rume will know him again, and realise her love for him even before she regains her soul. and their bond stays ever strong for the years to come - even though she travels far and wide, he is never far from her mind. and once her adventuring ends, and they retreat to a hidden estate to live out the rest of their lives in peace, she will be remembered by the people of all provinces for eras to come by myriad titles, with one of the most notable being "the Warrior Bride of the Great Mage."

if only it were so. for Mannimarco was not done with them yet, and was doubly furious for this perceived enemy of his to have escaped her fate, beat his ass, and stole his lover once again. and so came the fateful battle between Vanus's army of warriors and mages and Mannimarco's forces of death and darkness.

A thousand good and evil perished then, history confirms. Among, alas, Vanus Galerion, he who showed the way, It seemed once that Mannimarco had truly died that day.

from the book Mannimarco, King of Worms. this is canon.

Rumeranwen Malathelaere was among that thousand. sort of, but not quite. for she was a Vestige, and could not be truly killed, unlike her mortal lover who was then taken as an undead thrall by the King of Worms. but knowing this, Mannimarco sent his subordinates to the nearest wayshrine to capture her upon her resurrection, and imprisoned her in a pit at the bottom of a dungeon complex hidden beneath a lonely part of Tamriel untouched by man, mer, or beast, forced to die and come back to life over and over and over again with no way to escape nor anyone to rescue her. all written records of her were destroyed and word-of-mouth stories of her twisted into unrecognisability by the Worm Cult; by the tail end of the Third Era, nobody knew such a person had ever existed.

but rumour has it, that there is still someone who not only knows about her, but is searching for her, even after all this time. for immortals never forget their friends.

TLDR - "chosen one" oc who saves the world on multiple occasions, manages to defy fate due to "the power of love", nice for the most part but goes through awful undeserved things, has important canon character/in universe historical figure as love interest, is treated as a character who really existed in-universe

hope you enjoyed, nonetheless. and special credits go out to @titanwolfackerman for major inspiration and help in creating this story. please do check them out.

[vestige-of-hope]

anyone else afraid that abnur’s gonna die

[aaami]

so because of the difference in life expectancy, what happens when Kajo and Cicero get..older? U know..since she'll live longer and all that. Just wondering if you had thoughts on it <3

I have unfortunately had these thoughts and they are Painful.

Kajo doesn't really think about it beforehand and for some reason to her Cicero felt like an invincible being, refusing to die, but then his time to join the Void comes and Kajo doesn't know how to handle it. She is upset and heartbroken, he was her life partner and now she has to continue living without him? Feels absolutely terrible and she is mourning for a long while.

But she never becomes bitter towards life or anything, learning to accept that it is what it is, life happens. She knows he is safe in the Void, waiting for her at Sithis' side, and that is comforting. Lights candles to his memory every night, praying for the Night Mother to make sure that Cicero doesn't do anything stupid in the Void (pfft).

Someone once asked would Kajo try to summon him from the Void, turning him into a spectral assassin. Nope, because then it would hurt like hell again. Like, he would be there, but not really.

This is also a good moment to babble about this story I have, but I'm gonna put that under a read more, because it might get long!

So yeah. The story is yet another probably lore breaking mess, but anyway... I'm veeeery slooooowly working on a story about Kajo's final Big Adventure, set like 30 years after Cicero's passing.

Many decades ago, Kajo helped Sheogorath to return to Shivering Isles, freeing the Hero of Kvatch, Malva Sillonan, from her position as a "substitute" Mad God. Malva returns to Nirn, confused, and soon begins her search for her missing wife, Nerevarine Urtielle, who she knows is still alive somewhere. But her journey bares no fruit; despite retaining demiprince-like powers and naturally being talented with magic, she hasn't been able to locate Urtielle.

Jump back to whatever year it is, Malva approaching Kajo, as she finally decides to ask for some help from a fellow destined person. Perhaps a dragonborn could be able to help her somehow? Who knows, but Malva has tried everything and pretty much has nothing to lose.

Kajo is a bit reluctant to join this strange altmer, but then thinks like "okay, what the hell, maybe one more time" and agrees to help her to find her lost wife.

Stuff happens, Malva discovers that time travel is the key to find something that will help them to track Urtielle. So time travelling happens! And much to Kajo's (perhaps bad) luck, the location they are headed to is Cheydinhal back when Cicero ages ago moved there from Bruma.

And much to Kajo's (still maybe bad) luck again, they ofc bump into this young assassin. (An old doodle.)

Malva tells Kajo not to interact with this Cicero, as it could cause trouble, but haha, turns out that he finds the thing they are looking for and they have to work with him to get the thing (don't ask what the thing is, I don't know yet).

Kajo tries her damnest to not mention anything about the future to him, it's super difficult... but it's also so nice to see him, even tho he really isn't the Cicero she knew.

When Malva and Kajo have to leave this time, Malva must wipe Cicero's memories of their visit (or more like make it seem like it was all a dream). Before she can do that, Kajo talks to Cicero one last time, saying something vague about the future (like "everything will be fine in the end", knowing what he is about to go through in the following years) and gifts him an ebony dagger (yes, the ebony dagger. It kind of travels in a loop now lmao).

Malva and Kajo go back to their time, more stuff happens, they find Urtielle, but one of them must make an sacrifice to get her back.

And Kajo agrees to sacrifice her life to reunite Malva and Urtielle. She has seen enough life, enough adventures, most of her friends have passed already, and she is ready to join the Void and be reunited with her love, too.

[themagentadragon]

Rylaenvol Ssikseoulen

"Are we sure he's not a bard?"

Ryl is a traveler. He has travelled through planes, through spaces and through time. He has been many places, and has many places yet to go, all in his quest to gain the power he needs to defeat Lolth and free his people from her web. He is an artist, a crafter, a rogue, an alchemist, a chef, a freedom fighter, a barbarian, a musician, a murderer, a skirmisher, a friend, an ally of Ilmater, Eilistraee's partisan, an enemy of Lolth. He is many things. He is not a bard.

(Art by Lilithblack)

Name: Rylaenvol Ssikseoulen ('Sunstone')

Titles: The Dark Maiden’s Partisan

Aliases: Rylaenvol Daugirin, Moonshadow, The Painted Drow, The Scourged God, The Fool, Interloper, Trespasser

Home: Northwest Faerun

Former Home(s): Garethbalt, Underdark, Ethos, Bladur’s Gate, Waterdeep, Mithral Hall

Sex: Male

Race: Drow (Quasi-deity/Quasi-power)

Patron Deity: Eilistraee (Formerly Lolth)

Born: 1289 DR (Equivalent) (Tenth son of Issarezz Daugirin)

Spouse(s): Jeanne Renaud, Trelasarra Zuind

Sibling(s): Arraneth Daugirin (deceased), Akwaer Daugirin (deceased), Angjhul Daugirin, Quewune Daugirin, Amtsama Daugirin (deceased), Seven Unknown Brothers (all deceased), Several Unknown Sisters (some deceased)

Child(ren): Iejirvethivuthavaecaesin (Jiji), Rhydar, Gabrielle, Nymli, Kalon, Talvra, Nounrae, Klaris, Qilué Veladorn (Reincarnated)

Alignment: Neutral Good (Chaotic Tendencies) (Formerly Neutral Evil)

Class: Skirmisher 20 (Rogue Scout 8, Barbarian Totem Warrior 6, Aberrant Mind Sorcerer 3 (Elena), Fighter 1, Ranger 1, Monk 1)

Worlds Visited: Ethos (homeworld), Abeir-Toril (Forgotten Realms), Nirn (Elder Scrolls), Thedas (Dragon Age), The Continent (Witcher), The World (Pokemon)

(Art by Notesz)

Rylaenvol spent a little over two hundred years as the elderboy and slavemaster of House Daugirin, in the city of Garethbalt. He and many other Lolthite drow lived under the Dragon Spine Mountains committing atrocities to each other and to the people of the country of Drakos in the realm of Redspace. He served Lolth willingly and faithfully, murdering, torturing, raiding and enslaving many creatures of both the surface and the underdark. He knew his place and submitted himself to the whims of the matriarchy, doing all he could to please them, and by extension, please Lolth. Despite his loyalty Ryl never held Lolth's favor, for reasons he did not understand, and ultimately, never learned. He knew it was his destiny to die one day in service to his House and his Goddess and that day came when a powerful House accused House Daugirin of an attempted assassination, after one of the slaves they had purchased from the Houser had disobeyed orders and tried to kill the Matron Mother, grounds to destroy the weaker House Daugirin on. Knowing the maneuver to be one made as a precaution, to keep House Daugarin from amassing more power than they had already and threatening the other House's position, Ryl submitted himself for judgment, and offered to pay for the crimes in their entirety. He offered himself as a sacrifice to Lolth. He was executed through use of a Whip of Fangs, and shortly before his death, felt rage at the unfairness of it all. He was brought back to life through means he isn't fully aware of, knowing that it was part divine intervention and part the intervention of his mother. He was scarred, body and spirit, and the longer he lived the more he understood that the world around him was a terrible, violent and bloody lie. Knowing that he was still unlikely to survive the underdark, he planned to make a break for the surface to die there instead, all for the sake of granting his slaves the freedom he had taken from them. After a harrowing journey, Ryl did not find death on the surface, but was instead given a second chance at life, one he took whole-heartedly with a desire to change and to do good with this new life, beginning anew under the light of the sun.

(Art by S0nkur0) Ryl found his chance in the office of Drakos' Spymaster, a szarkai drow also escaped from the underdark. What Ryl did not know was that the mission, 'stop the slave trade between Drakos and Lithic' was as much of of a wild goose chase as the spymaster could send him on. Ryl found himself kidnapped onto a slaver's ship, which was attacked by a kraken just off the shores of Rassic, and shipwrecked with the other survivors on the beaches south of Lithic. Ryl joined with the group after some rocky introductions, and together they made their way north. Ryl learned about a surface world even more different than the one that had felt so foreign to him before. Here was a world of brightly colored birds, dinosaurs, plants and people. The more Ryl was immersed in this world of color, the more he came to love it and the people in it. He learned to trust others, and through that, heal himself from a past that he had not realized had been as almost as scarring on him as it had been on others. Lithic, he had found, was a place of rich culture, lead and inhabited by goblinoids and other 'monsterous' races. Including drow. Drow who walked the surface, who lived under the sun and lived among people, as people themselves. He found in these people no sense of belonging, but he did find hope. Still burdened by guilt he worked wherever he could to help those around him, be they his friends or complete strangers. Small tasks led to larger jobs, until one day they were tasked with finding out what had happened to the empress of Lithic who had gone missing years ago. Ryl found himself back in the underdark, an underdark removed by an entire ocean from the one he had known, and one devoid of Lolth and seemingly of life. His party tracked down and found the empress, cursed into the form of a medusa and guarded by a diseased troll. Thus rescued, the empress was returned to her throne, her curse broken, and she asked of them what boon they may wish from her and her husband. Ryl looked to his friends, who encouraged him, and asked that the empress abolish slavery from Lithic. It was done, his impossible job was complete, but his desire to help kept him in Lithic with the others, to participate in the finalization of the war that had stagnated between Lithic and an empire run by Yuan-ti, suspected to have been behind the empresses' disappearance and confinement in order to gain the upper hand. Though Ryl felt that war was not their business, his friends wished to make a final push against ending the evils of the land, and Ryl, knowing the Yuan-ti practiced slavery as well, could not sit by. After an arduous battle, the lord of the Yuan-ti, steps away from ascending to godhood, was slain. His presence and the presence of his divinity began to make Ryl question. He had heard various stories of mortal becoming dieties, and here before him was one such mortal. If a creature as vile as this emperor who killed and sacrificed others, might Ryl be able to, in order to save the drow from Lolth. In this he knew he had an ally: Eilistraee, a goddess wishing to free the drow from Lolth's web, one he had become familiar with through the surface-walking drow. In this, Ryl had another ally, Fal'el, a son of Lolth sealed away in his temple, whom Ryl and his friends had previously freed. With this goal now in mind, Ryl began making his preparations to do what he could to reach Lolth's level, and bring the Spider Queen Down.

(Art by SerenaVerdeArt)

Shortly after becoming a quasi-power, Ryl was kidnapped and taken by mindflayers from his home of Redspace and transported onto their Nataloid, where he was infected with a specially-engineered illithid tadpole. Either the forced removal from his home plane, the tadpole's insertion, or a combined effect of both, caused Ryl to lose nearly all of his memories, and severely weakened him physically. The Nataloid made its way back to Realmspace where it was set upon by gith warriors riding red dragons. The ship was pursued through the planes, before being severely damaged while travelling through Avernus, and finally returned to the material plane and crash-landed east of Baldur's Gate. Ryl and other survivors of the crash banded together through the mutual desire to remove the tadpoles that they had been infected with, ineviteably crossing paths with The Absolute, lead by equally infected 'True Souls' under the service of a goddess figure, seemingly responsible for mindflayers' actions. With so many affected by the machinations of the Absolute, Ryl set aside his own dilemma time and time again to lend aid to those in need. His constant rebuttal against the tadpole and refusal to use its power, culminated into an attempt by the aberration to seize control of Ryl's body. Ryl responded by threatening to kill himself, and it by extension. The tadpole was quelled by the sincerity of the threat, and the two forged an uneasy pact after. Ryl's mind was his, the tadpole's its own. If one lived, the other lived, if one died, the other died. This caused Ryl to form an unusual bond with the tadpole, one that, once he and the others had the opportunity to have the tadpoles removed, cause Ryl to decide to allow the aberration to live with him until a time that they found a way for it to live freely. After the defeat of the powers behind the Cult of the Absolute, a victory that almost came at the cost of Ryl's life, Ryl travelled with one of his companions to Waterdeep, to see about crafting a spell to safely send him back to Redspace. To help fund this research Ryl opted to join a group of adventurers operating out of Trollskull Manor unaware that he would soon be entangled in the events that would be known as 'The Dragon Heist' of Waterdeep. Ryl was scouted by Bregan D'aerth almost immediately after his arrival, and was soon given an invitation to join the drow mercenary band, lured by the ideal of its leader to turn Luskan into a safe haven for drow on the surface to escape from Lolth and live peacefully. Ryl was not certain he could trust the Lord of Luskan, but was able to determine that whatever his ulterior motives, the dream of creating a city for drow on the surface was real. Ryl worked to pursue the interested of Bregan D'aerth where it fit his morals, up to reluctantly turning against his friends after the discovery of the Vault of Dragons, in order to secure it for Bregan D'aerth, an act of betrayal that ultimately resulted in failure. Ryl was rescued and nursed back to health, but the dream of a surface drow city and the guilt of his failure haunted him. Eventually Ryl concocted a plan to travel back in time by a few years to give Bregan D'aerth the secrets of the Vault before the Trollskull adventurers would ever find it. Using the funds he had been gathering to send him home, and requesting his companion's aid, with additional backing from Bregan D'aerth, Ryl was successfully sent back in time, but something had gone wrong. Instead of five years back, Ryl had been transported over a century back, into the middle of the 14th century. At a loss, Ryl followed rumors north until he arrived at Ten Towns, seeking out a ranger said to be a kind-hearted drow. But on the road Ryl was passed by a member of Bregan D'aerth who did not recognize him, and should not have been alive in the era he was in. Worried about what this meant for the people in the town ahead, Ryl pursued the assassin, unaware that he was about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime.

(Baldur's Gate 3 © Larian Studios)

[numbaoneflaya]

8, 21, 22, 26 for Caz , 25, 27, 29, 39 for Felria, 23, 30, 40, 43 for Suds, and 21, 25, 26, 35 for Nirn? 👀👀

HERE THEY ARE IM SJORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG GDSHEDG...

Caz

8. How does your character feel about religion?

Not a big fan! Hates the chantry and Andraste and the Maker and the Qun. Being raised in the circle run by templars and nuns and seeing the corruption of the church firsthand from the inside really left a bad taste in her mouth for organized religion.

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

She has the ability to flip her manners on or off depending on who shes with. If shes comfortable then shes going to be more crass and impolite, but shes capable of really cleaning up her act and pretending to be professional if she needs to be. Her type of hero is anyone who goes against the status quo and disrupts systems of oppression- She considers Thurwen/the HOF and Hawke personal heroes (if Hawke sides with the mages) as well as Anders. Has read all of Anders manifestos and reports on Thurwen and Hawke and would geek tf out meeting them.

22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner?

Friends are anyone who accepts her for who she is and doesnt snitch on her, people she can trust to do the right thing or atleast try to, and people she can have a good laugh with. Lovers are only a couple in the past as she needs to get to know someone well/find them interesting to want to sleep with them. Her type is large, charismatic and rugged. Anyone who looks like a good brat tamer but is also intelligent and keen. Iron Bull.

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

Everything is covered in tomes and journals but theres a method to the madness. She likes to keep her things organized, surprisingly. She likes cool colors like greens and blues, likes dressing comfortably. Oversized shawls that second as blankets and loose pants. Her hair she likes to keep down with the sides pulled into little braids in front of her ears.

Felria

25. What are their hobbies and interests?

People watching and painting! She knows how to blend into a crowd pretty well or how to find a hidden vantage point where she can just sit and watch people… for hours. She finds peoples behaviors/reactions fascinating and makes little journals of interesting things she sees. Finding how other people work differently than her is vital to figuring out how best to manipulate and control them and she loves learning new ways! And painting because she has an artist's eye and enjoys beautiful things. A few bottles of blood and a quiet evening in front of an easel is a great way for her to unwind.

27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality?

She relates her appearance with how easily she will be able to blend in or stand out of her surroundings, and how to dress in order to play the role she wants to play. Because of her line or work (professional assassin and information gatherer) she has to have a lot of costumes available to fit the personalities she plays. Shes a performer at heart but only for herself and the joy she gets in deception. Her own style, if shes not performing, is simple reds and blacks and silvers. She keeps her hair long so shes able to do more with it.

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

Her pride could definitely be her downfall as well as her curiosity. She believes shes just better and different than everybody else and that its her right to play with people as much as she wants, I can see her eventually trying to play with the wrong person. She believes she can get out of any situation by herself without help and that she deserves the finer things in life, and if someone gets in her way, they deserve whatever harm befalls them.

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?

She will really ridicule anything and anyone because she finds most things stupid or benign. She likes to ridicule any of the gods and aedra, and anyone who worships them. She ridicules mortals and werewolves and any other creature that's not a vampire.

Suds

23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?

Back in his youth he wanted spontaneous fun, a charming and outspoken person to sweep him off his feet. He always wanted someone to take him on adventures and be dangerous and in the moment. Now? Poor guy just wants commitment and someone genuine. Hes tired of charismatic liars who he always seems to fall for. He wants someone to help tend his garden and bond with the bees. He feels that sex is a sacred thing to be shared with people you trust, not something thrown around haphazardly. Relationship and trust come first with him, and he casually waves any flirtation most of the time as if he hadn't noticed it. He's been hurt too many times to trust easily like that.

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?

Yeah hes holding onto a long ass past full of betrayal from the people hes held dearest to him :/ He by nature is a very forgiving person and believes one must be generous in forgiveness. Hes holding onto his past hurt from Felix and cant seem to get away from it- hes forgiven him many times and each time Felix just does the same things as before.

40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?

A little dual natured in this aspect. Generally pretty reserved and soft with other people and can seem serious to those who dont know him. Underneath that is his reputation as a trickster- fond of pranks and revelry. The little twinkle in his eye is the only thing that would give him away as the culprit when everyone is looking for who filled a bucket of mud over Nirns chamber door. His favorite kind of jokes are the really long ones, the ones that have a seemingly normal storyline and go on forever and then end in a way where the joke is really on the person listening. And everyone around goes “AAAUUGHH!”

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?

A lot of them! Hes a very good secret keeper as hes who many people go to with their problems. After being alive so long and being somewhat involved with politics he probably knows more than a few that could take down nations, and always seems to know whats going on wherever in the world. He has his connections, his mushrooms and his bees and such have eyes everywhere. And don't tell anyone but he is an ardent fan of juicy gossip.

Nirn

21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?

Impeccable manners. The posture of a God, obviously. Always eloquent and polite, knows which spoons to use for certain dishes and common diplomacy practice from all over the world. Nirn has no heroes, hes never held anyone to a pedestal or been one for hero worship. If he had to choose hed say his mother, for how graceful yet ruthless she was in politics and trade. He also does not hate anybody, he considers strong feelings a weakness and to harbor such resentment would only make him act rashly. He dislikes the slovenly, though. Not the common man but the drunken aristocrat with wine breath who gambles his savings and acts impolitely.

25. What are their hobbies and interests?

Chess and games of strategy are some of his favorites in the odd chance he has any free time. He also plays the violin and the harp and the lute, instruments he's known since he was taught them as a child. Wine tasting as well! Hes one of those mfs who can just sniff a certain drink and say with precision the date time and location it was made.

26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?

Everything is refined and elegant with a certain air of someone who enjoys the arts. Many expensive paintings and sculptures on display. He prefers the colors red and gold and white, sometimes a darkish blue or purple. He is always dressed to impress, satin and velvet and exotic leathers. He keeps his hair long to the small of his back, or tied up in a bun. In appearance hes intimidatingly tall and knows how to stand to look even taller, does not tilt his head down to you but moreso stares down his nose.

35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?

Failure is only a means to greater success to him. To win a game sometimes you need to sacrifice a few pawns, etc. Takes them calmly and with little indication that hes upset at all. He usually has four or five backup plans for any endeavor, so hes able to quickly jump tactics if something isn't working. In game or battle hes typically a good sport at losing, though he very seldom does. Hed be more impressed that someone managed to make him fail, and get to thinking on how to get them in his employ.

[daggerfall]

Why people hate meridia? Really i don't know what happened about her and Daurien Gautier, i would be glad if you could explain to me :)

I have a paranoid suspicion this is bait but whatever, fine, you can have it.

There’s like two general reasons, the first being her in the lore and the second being her actions in eso.

In the lore, going all the way back to the time of the Ayleids, Meridia was the one who backed them in their fight against the humans they were enslaving. Particularly, she backed Umaril the Unfeathered (who you may remember from the Oblivion DLC) in his fight against Pelinal Whitestrake. Pelinal also sucked, but he was fighting alongside Alessia the Slave Queen to free her people. The Ayleids sucked and were an incredibly cruel people, so Meridia helping them is not great.

In the lore as well, Meridia is known to “purify” her servants, making them immortal but also taking away their free will. She also does this as a punishment to those who break their vows to her, and just in general. We see this in the dungeon “Depths of Malatar”, where she enslaves the Imperials who went to loot it, as well as keeping her Ayleid worshippers “alive” for thousands of years in service protecting half of the Wrathstone for some unknown reason. I believe it is implied she wished to use it someday, but dont quote me on that.

And in the lore again, Meridia has been known to “collect” people, being called the Daedric Prince of Greed in the Illiac Bay. We can arguably see this again with the Purified Imperials in DoM.

And finally in the lore, Meridia’s feud with Molag Bal has resulted in her sacrificing the lives of her own worshippers on the regular just to spite him. When Molag Bal’s forces were attacking a city of her worshippers (the Hollow City), she used the portals they were coming in from to move her city into Coldharbour. Molag Bal could not touch the city, but she moved/displaced all of her loyal followers into another princes realm just to stick it to her enemy. Every single inhabitant of that city either died from being placed outside the protection of the city, or eventually left the city due to being sick and tired of being trapped in there/Oblivion and eventually died. The only survivor was the last Ayleid king, who had been being held and tortured the entire time before his rescue via the Vestige. So a few thousand years.

Now in the games, particularly ESO, it is a popular belief that Meridia was the one who originally led the Vestige to the Worm Cult where they were killed, and is the kickstarter for the events of you being the Hero. The Hooded Figure looks shockingly like the Groundskeeper, has the same voice, and has a vested interest in getting someone powerful to have a deep hatred of Molag Bal and the Worm Cult and be on her side. A lot of people don’t take kindly to being led to their torture and death. Though this is a theory, not confirmed canon, but fandom interpretation is powerful.

Meridia also did not tell the Vestige she was Meridia until just before the fight against Molag Bal, playing with the Vestige like a chess piece in her own fight against her enemy. A lot of people don’t take kindly to being manipulated and used, even if it was against a common enemy. 

As for Darien, Meridia created Darien to be her champion on Nirn. She let him believe he was just a normal Breton his entire life during ESO. At the end of the main quest, Meridia does not return Darien to the rest of the group, and instead takes him to her realm and keeps him there. A lot of us players, as well as NPCs, cared greatly for Darien, and very much dislike Meridia for that. 

Darien writes from the Colored Rooms that he wanted to come home, a letter we can show to his friend Gabrielle (who it is strongly hinted he loved and who loved him back).

We don’t see Darien again until Summerset, when Meridia sends him there to help stop the daedric triad. Meridia did tell him the truth about who and what he was, to some degree, but not everything. When Meridia first talks about Darien, she expressed distaste for how he had changed having met the player. He had a singular purpose, but now he... cares. Meridia does not like her servants having their own freewill and thoughts. 

Darien has to sacrifice himself at the climax of the main story. Once that quest is over, you can find a letter again from him, warning us not to trust Meridia. Just one tiny bit from “Words of the Fallen” “I need to tell you something about Meridia. She's a deceiver. She promised that if I served her faithfully, I'd earn my freedom. She never told me that freedom was just another word for the void. Don't trust her. Don't trust any of the Daedric Princes. Not ever.” I highly recommend reading all of Words of the Fallen btw. 

So! Meridia promises freedom to her most loyal champion, and then takes it away after he does his job. Those who like Darien once again very much dislike Meridia for this.

In Dragonhold, there is a sidequest where you find someone dead next to what looks like Meridia’s Beacon. A letter on him implies that Meridia is looking for a new champion, one who will not betray her, implying that Meridia thinks Darien betrayed her. We know from Words of the Fallen that Darien sacrificed himself for the player, not Meridia. Meridia does not like that Darien cares about the player. 

You can bring the letter to the dead khajiit’s wife, who says she is going to throw the stone in the lake. But if you talk to her again, she says that she thinks she’s going to hold onto it now, implying that she thinks she will be able to hear those same voices as him, and that she might take up the champion mantle.

The world boss quest giver in Southern Elsweyr talks about his own issues with Meridia, being a people collector and possibly having some past trauma with her/her cult.

And in Greymoor, Meridia's temple (mount kilkreath) is attacked by the Icereach Coven's harrowstorm, which steals the life energy of people and either kills them, turns them into mindless passive zombies, or feral vampires known as harrowfiends. It was mostly her priests and pilgrims that were attacked. Meridia did nothing to protect her followers or purge this corruption from even the inside of her temple. Many followers lost their faith that day.

All of this together, and the sneaking suspicion that she is not done with yet in ESO, makes a lot of us not only dislike her, but not trust her at all. Zenimax brought up Darien for Valentines Day, keeps bringing him and Meridia up in DLC, has her featured greatly in the main quest and a major chapter DLC...

It’s less an outright hatred of her. Believe me, I hate Molag Bal significantly more than I “hate” Meridia. I tend to take on my OCs beliefs and feelings as I play them, and my own main character was in a relationship with Darien and hates all daedra. Also she gets brought up more in recent DLC and thus is more of a relevant topic than Molag Bal. So I tend to post a lot about Meridia in less than positive lights. It’s more than I take issue with her being so connected to slavery and manipulation of mortals, yet being painted in a benevolent or even good light by a lot of the lore. I take issue with people who ignore the fact she is featured very prominently in recent games and accuse anyone who talks about disliking her of misogyny for not being equally or more loud about their dislike of other, worse daedric princes, regardless of if they do or do not. I take issue with people who romanticize her slavery or call her a “feminist icon” solely because they don’t like Darien (or me. That’s another reason). But that’s more of a specific tesblr community issue rather than “legit reasons in game or lore to not like Meridia”.

Overall, Meridia is a daedric prince. They’re not good or bad by mortal standards because they don’t ascribe to mortal defined morals. They do what they do because they must. It is their realm, their sphere of influence. Meridia started out as the Daedric Prince of Greed in early games, a collector of people, and her hatred of undead and Molag Bal are extreme. The fact that she is more present in ESO, a game I play on the regular and that gets updated multiple times a gear, means that people will talk about her more. When I was deeply into Skyrim, I talked about my dislike of Hermaeus Mora a lot. When I was deeply into Oblivion (for a short while), I talked about my dislike of Mehrunes Dagon. And when I am thinking about Morrowind, I end up talking about my dislike of Azura and the Tribunal. She isn't necessarily better or worse than other Princes, just more of a hot topic in the ESO side of the fandom than other Princes.

If this was sent in good faith then I apologize for saying it felt like bait. If it is bait, then here. Take it and start raving about what an awful misogynist I am. I await my callout post. 

[kittyspotatoes]

AHA! The chance arises to pester you about your ocs! 😈 Can I get 28,29,55,65 & 72 for any (or all) of your ocs?

OR ALL OF THEM??? (I know there’s only three but???) fgdsghihijsh >:))))) I’m fevered to write about my new OCs I’m warning you. This took forever bc internet down but heeey i tried to keep it short! <3

28. If they could have one wish, what would they wish for?

Kisa - For a responsibility free life lmao that most likely includes from taxes as well :’D

Kahliir & Jhinn - For Nirn to never get boring :) (W-well.. that’s as much as what you can expect from two immortal mages who craves adventure at any form. +_+)

29. Do they wants kids? If they already have kids, do they want more?

Kisa - NO omfg if there’s gonna be a kid in her journey, it’ll be Kaidan, Inigo, Vilja, Lucien, and the others adopting them XD She’s scared of kids O_O’’’

Kahliir & Jhinn - They don’t really want kids as well but these two aren’t opposed to the idea of adopting someone a kid (not a baby!! a kid! :scream:). Even raising it together wouldn’t be a bad idea. XD (wait I just called the kid “it”)

55. What is something they always wanted to do but too scared?

Kisa - To be THE hero. The hero who is glorious, the hero who abides by the law, the hero who sets a good example, the hero every bards sing about. These are things she would like to be but cannot be, would not be. Kisa isn’t any of these. She didn’t accomplish anything without blood on her slate. And if she starts being THE hero like in the tales, she’ll never accomplish anything at all. Kisa’s able to bring good to many because she’s willing to sacrifice her honor—to do the things “good and honorable” people will not.

Kahliir & Jhinn - Test each other’s immortality. These two have lived long lives by 4th Era and has probably thought about retiring but just doesn’t want to run off a cliff for the sake of study. Plus if one of them really died from it, the other would be too lonely lol. Like swans. >,<

65. What makes them smile?

Kisa - Seeing the people she protects having genuine happiness. It’s okay if she’s got a bad record. If it led to their happiness in the end, it was worth it anyway.

Kahliir & Jhinn - A D V E N T U R E. That’s it. They’ve got a hard on for exploration and discovering knowledge. (Prioritizing each other’s safety first of course! Can’t explore with an accidentally exposed evil being on Nirn :D)

72. Do they currently have a significant other? If not, are they going to get one later one?

!!!THERE’S SPOILER IN THIS ANSWER TO EVERYONE ELSE LOOKING!!!

THEY ALL SINGLE WHY ARE YOU ASKING CASS, WHY ARE YOU ASKING? >:)))

Kisa - She’ll get a few more strings tangled before she and Kaidan get together in the end O_o

Kahliir & Jhinn - Kahl might look though, but prefer not committing because of her powers. Apparently, a blood mage isn’t widely popular in any era. Jhinn keeps promising Kahl he’ll have a loving family to introduce to his best friend to but isn’t really making any effort in making that happen. He’s too into scrolls and tomes and studying. Kahl is starting to lowkey worry haha (Oh look, Molag Bal’s ass getting kicked by the Ace & Aro duo, how original lmao. I should just expand that on a diff post lolol sorry!)

[youeggbastard]

Can I get the love headcanons for Ellie and Jen 🧐🧐

Hell yeah you can!

Ellie

When they discover they’ve got a crush: Ellie’s goto move when she develops a crush is to just sit in silence and just yearn. She wants to avoid them and hope that it’s just a passing thing and it goes away, but at the same time she doesn’t want it to leave and she wants to spend all her waking moments with them, it basically just creates this weird scenario where she’s spending time with someone but avoiding them at the same time.

How they confess/hint: Ellie’s thinking is that she made eye contact with them once so that should be good enough and they can now determine the true depths of her feelings.  

 Big gestures of love: Honestly Ellie is a little more subtle and private so big gestures aren’t really her thing, however if she was with someone that liked big gestures she would adapt because she loves them. Luckily I don’t think Kai likes big gestures either.

 Little gestures of love: Little gestures are more her style, She loves to give people books that she thinks they would like and writes notes in the margins personalized for them. She’s also the type to give someone she likes cool rocks or anything that she finds.  

How to win their heart: Listen to her when she talks about things she’s passionate and just generally be a somewhat decent person, I mean the standards are really low but at the same time very high. If you make her feel safe not just physically but emotionally she’s gonna fall in love.

How to break their heart: Tell her she’s annoying, call her a monster, Essentially just cement all the thoughts she already has about herself. Reject her after she bares her soul to you. 

Tiny little turn-ons: Height Differences, people who are passionate, watching certain people practice sword fighting. 

Big turn-ons: m u s c l e s Especially back muscles.

Things that make their heart flutter: Eye contact, compliments (Yeah she can be kind of vain but this poor baby hasn’t exactly gotten a lot of compliments in her lifetime) Being told ‘No keep talking’ or ‘You aren’t annoying me’ when she’s info dumping

Their type: Kaidan lol Though if he wasn’t in the picture Ellie would probably prefer anyone taller than her with muscles and are good huggers.

Ideal date: Laying in a grassy field either reading in comfortable silence of talking about their passions.

Past relationships: None, there was barely a fling but that’s literally it.

How they might affect current relationships: It wouldn’t.

‘Goals’ in a relationship (marriage, kids, a house, etc): Man Ellie is just trying to survive from one day to the next. She’s never been opposed to marriage but she never really saw it happening to her since the list of people willing to marry a werewolf is pretty short. She loves kids but thinks its too risk to have any of her own, and she’s never been a stay at one home for very long, she’s always been a wanderer. Her and Kai end up do having a house and all but for the most part they just wander across Skyrim and eventually nirn.

Any other love headcanons: Ellie cannot handle flirting of any kind, she blushes from head to toe and her brain short circuits. No thoughts. 

Jen

When they discover they’re got a crush: She puts on her clown makeup and prepares herself to get hurt again. But really Jen considers develop feelings with someone akin to getting a death sentence, she just accepts the inevitable and shoves those feelings down deep inside to never act on them.  

How they confess/hint: She’s not very shy, so if she ever were to confess she would be blunt about it and tell them outright, the hard part is just convincing Jen to actually act on the feelings she shoves down. 

Big gestures of love: She has repeatedly told Kaidan that if he dies she’ll resurrect his body, it doesn’t get any bigger than that!

Little gestures of love: Gentle mothering. Making sure you have enough food to eat, also slipping more supplies in your bag when you’re not looking. 

How to win their heart: Show basic human kindness. Also just be there for her through thick and thin, and like y’know don’t betray her which isn’t a high bar but you’d be surprised how many people in her life fail to fulfill that.

How to break their heart: Use mind control to force her to kill an innocent woman and child and then betray her to a daedric prince. Also try to sacrifice her to a daedric prince. Just to name a few possible scenarios that definitely have never happened.

Tiny little turn-ons: Already answered this bad boy.

Big turn-ons: This one too!

Things that make their heart flutter:  And this guy.

Their type: Well her two big crushes are Kaidan and Serana so she apparently has a thing for dark haired people with baggage and traumatic pasts. Also some connection to Daedric princes. But for guys the bar is higher and her type includes tall with muscles and a nice smile. She thinks all women are celestial beings.

Ideal date: Daedra hunting and grave robbing, but like holding hands while you do it. 

 Past relationships: She had someone in the vigilants and it didn’t end well to say the least. 

How they might affect current relationships: He’s dead dead so all it really did was just give Jen trust issues. 

‘Goals’ in a relationship (marriage, kids, a house, etc): I would say prior to being with Kai Jen didn’t really have any plans, she was still on the path of atonement and felt she didn’t deserve a happy life. However, Kai is the first person she actually wants to marry and y’know have a family with. 

Any other love headcanons: Don’t let her aloof exterior fool you if someone got her flowers or did anything remotely romantic she would die on the spot. 

[talldarkandroguesome]

25th of Hearthfire, Sundas

This morning Tel came to me and apologized for being a bit of a grump. I told them they could make it up to me by us taking the chance for a bit of fun when we had some privacy.

Not that I got any measure of assurance, for Tel told me simply that they would think about it. What is a mer to do?

We all headed to the Harborage with supplies in hand.

When arrived to the Prophet’s warm welcome ad thanks for our service. As soon as congratulations were complete, Varen offered to show us how Mannimarco suffered. I volunteered to witness his torture while the others turned down the vision. I was glad to see him begging for his Prince’s forgiveness as daedra flayed and whipped him. If any mer deserves such a fate, it is him.

As I returned to report what I saw, I overheard Er-Jaseen gently telling Sai Sahan that despite how much he appreciates the honor of being asked, he did not believe in the Empire, nor in its Emperor. Sai Sahan seemed rather deflated, but Lyris called everyone over for a toast to our victories.

The mead was one of those sickeningly sweet varieties that even the smell of it turns the stomach. I swallowed it down as quickly as possible without letting it touch my tongue where possible. Everyone seemed in a fairly good mood, but I did not like the change in attitude. Lyris playing a lute? And since when has everyone been so keen to enjoy a laugh and drink in the Harborage while there is still work to be done?

I caught Tharn’s eye and he said he did not believe the way people were acting. He told me to come and he would tell me what the others were hiding.

I immediately went to speak with him.

Of course, the discussion that arose when we arrived was not quite what any of us had expected.  It was what Tharn had stayed to speak to Varen and Lyris and Sai Sahan about. With the Amulet of Kings in hand, a ritual must be completed to end Molag Bal’s grip on Nirn and free all the souls he had stolen with Mannimarco’s help. Our souls.

Tharn told me that he had expected better of me than to waste my time with dimmer company. I laughed and replied that I could not always have the pleasure of his company, sometimes I needed to mix with others in order to keep the peace and accomplish my goals. He laughed before he continued with the explanation.

He spoke of how well acquainted he was with daedra and how with the Amulet of Kings in hand, they could imbue one of the vestiges with its power in order to wound Molag Bal. They had accessed who was the best person to take on Molag Bal head on and they had decided it should be Er-Jaseen.

I was somewhat relieved to hear that. Er-Jaseen would have a better chance to take on one of the corners in a one on one fight than I would. Though he was clearly upset about that prospect.

Tharn continued, for of course there was more. The ritual needed to accomplish this had a cost and the cost was the complete use of a single soul.

That hit everyone very hard. It was explained that one of the vestiges could not volunteer, so it meant we had to choose someone else in the Harborage. However, not Tharn, because the spell was complicated and he did not have the time to teach anyone else. I saw that glance in my direction and knew that it was a direct comment on how slowly I learn new spells.

Each of the others made their case of why it should be them. Varen saying he had started the mess and should be the one to pay the cost. Lyris and Sai Sahan wanting to sacrifice their lives for their lord.

Tharn said that since Er-Jaseen was the one to do the battle, that he should be the one to make the decision.

I felt so bad for him. That look on his face. He has clearly become close to all of them and the thought of condemning them was not an easy bit of news. So he asked for Tel and my advice.

Tel said that we should get a condemned prisoner. I said there was no way to gaurentee that they would do what we needed if their life was on the line. Varen stepped in and said that we could not offend Akatosh and needed a willing sacrifice.

Er-Jaseen was complaining about how he should be forced to do so much for a god he did not believe in.

I laid a hand on his shoulder. I said very quietly that what was started must be completed. Varen had accepted his fate to live out the consequences of his actions. Lyris and Sai Sahan could do much for Nirn in spreading peace between peoples without Varen to follow. He nodded, but did not speak.

Tharn then said that we should check in at the Mages Guild, who are currently amassing an effort to invade Coldharbor themselves, since they might be a good source of information and ways to cooperate to succeed in fighting Molag Bal.

Still in a bit of a daze, Er-Jaseen agreed and asked Tel and I to accompany him. So we headed back to town.

When we arrived, one of the members told Er-Jaseen that Vanus Galerion, the head of the Mages  Guild had been looking for him a week and a half earlier. We were all a bit confused, but spoke to them of their plans and learned that the Mages Guild was trying to reach out to the leaders of the Alliances to put a temporary hold on the war until the Planemeld could be stopped. Er-Jaseen agreed to go and asked if Tel and I could accompany him.

I must admit, I am rather apprehensive about going on account of my position politically. Not to mention that depending on what Thalmor agents are present in the Queen’s company, I may be recognized for having been a spy who was captured and killed some of their agents when I escaped. It seemed an unwise decision for me to agreed to come along. Which is what I told Tel when they demanded to know why I did not think I should go.

A member of the Mages Guild said that should I remain, along with the other vestiges, among the neutral territory of their guild, then it should not be of any concern.

I sighed and said that I would go if that is what the others wanted. Otherwise I would wait and join them for the invasion after the negotiations. Both Er-Jaseen and Tel asked me to go.

I admit, I fear what might happen with my attending. At least they cannot kill me this time. Not permanently at least. Still... those cold Altmeri eyes... I can still see their glee and hear their laughter. The Three protect me.

[ansu-gurleht]

okay so i went through the datamined books from eso, taking notes as i went. @boethiah sent me a message this morning about it, asking what i thought. so i figured i might as well get real comprehensive about taking down notes to answer decently, or at least do it to organize my thoughts. 

before she sent me that i hadn’t heard about this, so i went into it bright-faced and intrigued. i didn’t think my notes would end up too long, so i just figured i’d send them to her when i was done, even “talking” to her in the notes (you’ll see what i mean by that). 

but uh. as all things lore-related, i got a bit carried away. stopped almost halfway thru to go to class, and by then i’d started to notice some really weird, kinda silly shit in it. and then i noticed everybody in tesblr talking about it, and finally realized, “oh. so it’s like that.” so i figure i’ll post it here publicly instead.

despite the uh. obvious nonsense in a lot of this, i think there’s a lot of interesting things hidden away. so what i’m going to do is just post my notes under the read-more. i’m too lazy to organize them into something more coherent lol. they’re basically just me commenting on certain lines and stuff. 

i won’t like, really go into why most of this is stupid, bc other people have already done so, and better than i probably could’ve. but you’ll know. somethings i quote things and just. have no idea how to even address them other than, at best, “??????” either bc it doesn’t make much sense, eludes useful analysis, or is just stupid.

anyways, here goes:

book 1:

azura: - "the Path"? am i wrong or has a "Path" never been referenced in khajiiti lore?

khenarthi: - alkosh comforts khenarthi after lorkhaj died? yeah right. - khenarthi's role as psychopomp for azurah mirrors kyne's role for shor. but azura doesn't factor into nord/atmoran mythology at all.

jone and jode: - azurah cares for jone and jode? interesting. (also, "Bright Moons"? full moons?)

lorkhaj: - lorkhaj as "White Lion?" - namiira (the Great Darkness) followed lorkhaj as his burden? - mention of a "path" again, made by lorkhaj with purpose. sounds yokudan. - "in conflict with himself" & "represents the duality of the Khajiiti soul" ... desert and jungle ... strife, hardship, and life, love ... both tainted deadly by nirni, according to ahnissi - "We honor his sacrifice by walking the Path with purpose and resisting the call of the Dark." ... the Path again ... the Dark? namiira? - (the khajiit seem to conflate namira and nocturnal. this isn't a new concept, as they both genuinely do overlap in many ways, but an interesting one.) - "the true spirit of Lorkhaj will sometimes appear" ... "by Azurah" - nerevar/ine, "or Khenarthi" - hjalti, "or by his oldest name" - ...ysmir?

magrus: - all of this magrus stuff is new, to my knowledge. - the importance of him fleeing from "Boethra and Lorkhaj" probably excites you :P - "fell into the Moonshadow" ... "too full of fear to rule a sphere" ... "tore out his other eye" (odin parallel? a "failed" odin, maybe? unless seeing "out of one eye" is metaphorical) - "Varliance Gate"???? "Aether Prism"???? they're the sun, but those names are brand new afaik. overall a strange alternative to the story of magnus and the sun - "Some sorcerers hold that Magrus left the eye willingly" - more odin stuff

book 2:

- azurah knows all the names of all the spirits, their protonyms? that's interesting. a lot of that "protonymic" lore is derived from the whole "true names have power" stuff, popular in magical circles from sources like kabbalah thru the lens of crowley. - "And Fadomai told stories of her children and her favorite aspects of each of them. When she reached Azurah, she smiled and told her favored daughter she could not decide. And Fadomai died." ;----; - "sat in the Great Darkness for timeless ages" ... sat with namiira? - seems to have carved moonshadow from the great darkness. (the great darkness seems to have dual meaning as both oblivion and namiira. then again, i think only clan mother ahnissi said the great darkness was namiira, so that (morrowind) lore might be outdated.) - this scene with lorkhaj and his empty dark heart is......interesting. - "UR DRA NA MII RA UR DRA NA MII RA UR DRA AZU RA" - you can pick out "namiira" and "azura" in this, but the meaning of "UR" and "DRA" elude me. - lorkhaj gets his heart torn out YET AGAIN. very rude azurah - the "Moon Beast" and its hunger remind me of the yokudan sep. - i think once upon the time "dro-m'Athra" referred to daedra in general, but i think eso has made them a specific type of daedra resembling khajiit. even more specifically, some kind of "dark khajiit" born from dead evil khajiit. - "lighting the fire with lanterns of love and mercy" - your vivec is showing, azurah. or i guess, the other way around. - this "ashes of Lorkhaj" bit gets me thinking about ysmir, again. but i'm not sure what to do with that.

book 3

sheggorath: - now THIS is a not shitty interpretation of sheggorath! he's not a "god of madness," but a god of mental fortitude, a god who tests convinction. - more stuff about "the Path" - "must be ... overcome before a Khajiit can visit Hermorah's library"? - "Sheggorath is dead and has been replaced by something Other" - the hero of kvatch? but if this is from eso, that hasn't happened yet? unless the mantling of sheogorath is a pretty common occurrence; i remember someone on tumblr suggested that this might happen every era.

orkha: - "Orkha ... followed Boethra back through the Many Paths" ... what does that mean? - "Lorkhaj, Khenarthi, and Boethra battled the demon in the ancient songs" - ... as trinimac? - "but Orkha could only be banished and would not die" ;) - "serve as tests along the Path" - so far these princes are being painted similarly to their house of troubles counterparts

dagon (also called merrunz.) - no reference to merrunz being the kitty cat. :( next - ...okay not really. "explore the Great Darkness rather than the Many Paths"? - molagh "tortured him until the creation of the World?" but "the wife of Molagh freed Merrunz"? who is "the wife of Molagh"?

molagh (balls) - "twelve Demon Kings"? should probably look into how they got that number - "Boethra and Molagh fought to a standstill before the lattice, but it was Azurah who shackled the Demon King with secrets only she knows." - i dont have anything to say about this really, just an interesting line i think. - "you will overcome him with the might of Boethra, the Will Against Rule." - interesting...afaik, aside from HAVING a khajiit name, boethiah never really factored into their faith that much, and wasn't ever mentioned in clan mother ahnissi. i wonder if azurah at some point attempted to unify her plans for the dunmer and the khajiit.

merid-nunda - interestingly, the khajiit seem to call her by her magna-ge name. - "False Spirit of Greed"? - magrus "loved only himself and his own creations"? idk if this seems all that congruent with the magrus from his own description - "cold spirit, born of light without love" - interesting - "blame her for orchestrating the death of might Lorkhaj"??!?!?!? what?????????? - "When Merid-Nunda dared assault the Lattice, Azurah struck her down before the Varliance Gate and dragged her away from it. She then cast Merid-Nunda into the Void and bound her there with mirrors. The nomads say she has since escaped." this whole thing is interesting

book 4

nirni: - nothing interesting on nirni.

y'ffer: - y'ffer "corrupted by the Great Darkness," (namira), who apparently killed nirni???!??! what??????? - worth noting that ahnissi doesn’t paint y’ffer as “corrupted” or evil or anything. in her words he’s kinda just a moron who doesn’t *get it* and does his own thing instead.  - don’t get the obsession with making namiira some like. crazy super evil being. feels like eso took a look at the list of princes and was like “who hasn’t tried to destroy/take over the world yet. that’s what daedric princes do right”

hircine - hircine doesn't get a funny ta'agra name, i guess. - graht-elk?

hermorah - hermorah helps azurah maintain the ja-kha'jay?

sangiin - according to what this says about sangiin, khajiit are actually NOT one of the most hedonistic races on tamriel. suuuuuuuuure, buddy.

book 5

- a look at the khajiit afterlife w/ azurah in moonshadow. - first you walk the sands, then you walk the glass, then you walk the thorns, then you have a good time, then azurah sends you back to nirn do something else (reincarnated)? but it might just be this one guy who goes off to do something ("Bring my children back"), he seems kinda special. no idea who he's supposed to be.

book 6

- all this shit about akha and alkosh and alkhan is bullshit. the fuck is akha even supposed to be? according to his name you'd assume an association with akatosh, but alkosh is akatosh, right?

akha: - this book says akha is the first cat. ahnissi says alkosh is the first cat. - "Pathfinder and the One Unmourned" - are we talking about akatosh or dagoth ur here. - "Many Paths"??? again?? what are they. knockoff walking ways? - "mated with the Winged Serpent of the East [akavir], the Dune Queen of the West [yokuda], and the Mother Mammoth of the North [atmora]. He then went to the South [pyandonea] and never returned." then alkosh shows up and says "yikes that akha guy was a little fucked huh?"

alkosh: - alkosh is "The Dragon King" and "Highmane." association with the Mane of the khajiit - "In time, the children of Akha overthrew [Alkosh] and scattered his body on the West Wind." ...??? is this a reference to the middle dawn? seems unlikely - apparently khenarthi put him back together. also seems unlikely

alkhan: - oh so the khajiit recognize alduin now too. cool.

boethra: - and boethiah i guess, why not????

mafala: - mafala has always been part of khajiit religion, tho, afaik. she is the og clan mother. - "She watches over Eight of the Many Paths, each of which a Khajiit must walk in time." ?????????? wtf are the many paths!!!!! why are there eight of them!!!!!! is this a reference to the spiral skein, or satellite realms (the spokes) of it? - forreal i think they gave up on pretense here when they started listing allies and shit. - "Her numbers are Eight and Sixteen, and these are two of her keys." this just sounds like something from the 36 lessons tbh. this doesn't sound like khajiit lore at all

book 7

lorkhaj (moon beast): - confusingly, lorkhaj as fadomai's favored son and lorkhaj as the moon beast are called by the same name, and despite this have separate entries in these books. - wonder if there's some equivalent in other myths to the moon beast. he seems pretty interesting, being "born of the dark heart of Lorkhaj" - there's UR DRA again, attached to namiira, again, who is apparently an enemy of the khajiit.

namiira: - apparently eso has rebranded namiira as like, an absolute enemy of the khajiit, with the dro-m'athra as her corrupted-khajiit minions or something? except i thought dro-m'athra originated from the moon beast? anyways, ahnissi only said that the great darkness became namiira. didn't say that was a bad thing necessarily. - also, her khajiiti ta'agra name, namiira, just so happens to be her protonym, NA MII RA.

noctra: - oh, so they do have nocturnal, as "noctra". - wait, so she's the "daughter of twilight"??? isn't twilight, idk, azura's thing???? (i feel like i've heard nocturnal be associated with twilight before, but it still makes little sense. it was probably from eso, too.) - boethra separated noctra from namiira. one could say she *stole* noctra from namiira ;) - noctra is ok by the khajiit, whereas her progenitor namiira is not. ok?

varmiina: - ok we have vaermina now too i guess. why the fuck not. - "The Lost Daughter. This spirit was not of any litter, but was born from Fadomai's fear of losing her children." - "Azurah killed this dark spirit in the Underworld" what the fuck is "the Underworld". they just be making shit up now

[?????] (no, really. that's what it says. dunno if that's a placeholder or intentional): - "[?????] A spirit of vengeance. It has no will of its own, as it was born from Azurah's grief after the death of Fadomai and Lorkhaj." ????? - "It sometimes appears in songs as a black panther, a warrior in ebony armor, or as a hidden sword." idk about "a black panther," but the "warrior in ebony armor" evokes ebonarm, who's technically still canon, and "a hidden sword" could be umbra. not sure what the connection here is.

[elianaevergreenstormcloak]

Seven thousand steps farther - 23 rd of Last Seed – 4 E 201 – Ivarstead

She reached Ivarstead in the late hours of afternoon and stayed at the inn for the night. Perched over the borders of Eastmarch, and nestled in the foothills of Tamriel’s tallest summit, Ivarstead was a sight to behold. Farms and crops outstretched in stair terraces all the way down the hill, to the first line of pine trees marking the boundaries of the hold. Cascades and torrents of silvery water, born from the eternal snows at the apex of the peak, ran down the slopes of the mountain to fuel rivers and lakes around. Life revolved around sowings and harvests, and in those late summer days, the inn was quiet from dusk, and the village busy from dawn.

:readmore:

“What can you tell me about High Hrothgar?”, Eliana asked, as she tightened the buckles of her satchel and backpack, making sure the additional weight would not impede her climb too heavily.

“The Greybeards are a solitary lot.”, the innkeeper replied. “I don’t think they’ve ever ventured outside their monastery. We get the occasional pilgrim passing through here on their way to the summit, but almost all of them have returned disappointed.”

The young woman pensively nodded.

“I won’t.”, she smiled assertively. “Anything I should be cautious of, on my way up?”

“Klimmek makes the climb every one or two months. Knows the pathway like the back of his hand. He might be able to give you some advice. You should find him at his fishery, on your way out of the hamlet. Best of luck on your way. Make sure to make a stop on your way down.”, he added as the young woman headed to the door. “Our bard, Lynly is quite fond of the pilgrims’ tales. Makes up for the boredom of our provincial life, I imagine…”

“I will.”, she answered. “Thanks a lot.”

Mist and morning dew twirled above the river in rubans of smog, in which floated like fireflies the dying ambers of the bridge lantern.

Down a wooden pontoon, a man was setting his canes and nets, for the day, and straightened wiping his brow, when the shade of a newcomer came obscurcing his work.

“Damn bears got another of our nets.”, he mumbled, not even looking up from his handiwork. “Beyond repair, this time. Got to have it replaced next time you head to Rift-”

The fisherman froze, upon realising his mistake.

“Sorry, milady.”, he offered, dropping back the torn net on the floor. “Mistook you for my associate – not that you look anything like him”, he mumbled attively, “ ‘tis just that I didn’t expect…”

“There’s no offence taken, don’t worry.”, Eliana reassured him with a smile as the man drowned himself in apologies. “You’re Klimmek? The innkeeper told me to come to you for advice on the pilgrim’s path to High Hrothgar.”

“You’re heading to High-Hrothgar now? This time of the year?”

“Believe me, it wasn’t my first choice.”, she snorted, remembering how many times she had delayed her project of a pilgrimage to the Gildergreen, and did not even take time to make a stop by the temple when she was in Whiterun. “Anything I should be particularly cautious of, on my way up?”

The man considered her for a moment. “I usually avoid making the climb in the hottest and coldest months. Extreme conditions make the path treacherous, stones come lose either from frost or meltdown, and a good tumble is not the worst you risk, if you trip up there. Storms can be sudden, and quite strong. The summit blocks clouds from both north and south and the wind can blow quite hard, so I advise you find shelter in one of the station, if you see the weather is changing. Apart from that, there’s the occasional pack wolf, or stray bear, and some pilgrims talked of trolls - I never saw one - but this time of the year, whatever you’ll encounter will have food aplenty, so they shouldn’t attack you, unless provoked. Do not stray from the path, and everything will be fine.”

Eliana crossed the bridge, and began the ascension just as the sun started its course from the horizon, and the sky turned a brighter shade of blue as mist and smog lifted, leaving in their stead only the fresh sting of spray and the faint crisp air descending from the mountain. Her mind heavier from Klimmek’s warnings, but her heart set as ever on the task at hand, she reached the first station, and knelt before the carven stone. Cuneiform writing in the tongue of the Nords of old spread on the dark granite arch, as on the tablet were traced in several times erased and rewriten words, a tale older than time.

'Before the birth of Men, the Dragons ruled all Mundus.

Their word was the Voice, and they spoke only for True Need.

For the Voice could blot the Sky and flood the Land.’

'Men were born, and spread over the face of Mundus.

The Dragons presided over the crawling masses

Men were weak then, and had no Voice.’

'The fledging spirits of Men were strong in Old Times

Unafraid to war with Dragons and their Voices

But the Dragons only shouted them down and broke their hearts.’

'Kyne called on Paarthurnax, who pitied Man

Together, they taught Men to use the Voice

Then the Dragon War raged, Dragon against Tongue.

'Man prevailed, shouting Alduin out of the world,

Proving for all that their Voice too was strong,

Although their sacrifices were many-fold.’

She came to a halt, resting her back against the stone, taking cover from the freezing wind as the tale weighted heavily on her soul. The story of the world, of the first Dragon Break, was unfolded before her, a legend carved in stone that felt like a life-time repressed memory and echoed to her soul with deafening truth.

Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes and took in a few deep breaths, fumbling with the cords of her bag to set her gourd free, and took a few long gulps of ice cold water before she forced her mind back on Nirn.

Just over the edge of the rock outcroping hovering the emptiness, the whole of Skyrim stretched to the horizon, from the foothills of the mountain. Far below, she could see the plains of Whiterun fade into the green lands and vast pine forests of Falkreath, the black arches of Bleak Falls Barrow detaching themselves from the sparkling waters of Lake Illinalta, and, at the far edge of White River valley, drowned in the mist, and behind a crest, the ruins that used to be Helgen.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she averted her gaze and grabbed some food from her satchel before she risked a glance up the snowy slopes of the Throat of the World. The path was wide enough for now, but she feared the higher she’d climb, the narrower the stairs…

Already, the eroded stone steps were often swallowed by the earth and provided little guidance regarding the way to follow, and Eliana more than once had to dig out the carven stones to ensure she was indeed heading the right way. Moreover, if the morning winds carried in their wake naught but the crisp cold of fresh fallen snow and the twinkle of stalactites melting against the sunbathed rocks, the early hours of the afternoon had seen the skies darken, and the heavy clouds gathering at the summit, breaking on the mountain like spume on a cliff, augured nothing good for the rest of her journey.

She had reached about the fifth etched tabled when at a turn of the path marked by two tall standing stones, a light snow strated falling. Quickly, the sparse grass and mountain flowers disappeared, leaving in their stead only rocks and wide snowdrifts.

Eliana shivered, the wind biting harshly at her exposed flesh. She tightened her cloak around her shoulders, and nestled her face in the woolen inside of her hood. Even the birds seemed to have deserted these heighs, and no sound from the valley longer reached her ears, other than the howling of the wind. Strong gusts of freezing wind, charged with powder snow drifted over the edges of the mountain, stinging her skin and burning her lungs. Running her hand against the slope, farther from the precipice, and digging her heels deep in the snow to anchor her to the ground as the gale grew in strength, Eliana muttered a word of thanks to the gods as, at the end of the flight of stairs, a tall rock outcropping came covering the road, in a long natural tunnel.

She made a stop just past the entrance, relieved to see snow recede, and cobblestones emmerge from the ground, a seemingly long portion of the road carrying on under the protection of the stone.

But as the wind quietened, and the air grew heavy and moist, a scent of rot came to her nostrils, sparkling in her a well-trained instinct. Squinting to pierce through the darkness, she could glimpse the outlines of remains, stacked against the walls of the gorge. The smell and sound betrayed the presence of the predator before her eyes could fathom the mass of muscles and fur detaching itself from the dark recesses of the cavern to charge upon her.

Fire engufed the defile, casting a most unwanted light upon the beast’s lair. Teeth and claws sharp as scythes slashed through the air. Eliana dodged, fire at her fingertips keeping the troll at bay, but fear could only fend sheer blind rage for that long.

The troll charged through the wall of flames, propelling her to the ground. Breath knocked out of her lungs, Eliana rolled to the side as the beast plunged on her. Massive fists hit the ground, where she lied seconds before, shattering the eternal ice like glass.

“FUS!”

The word swole past her lips at its own volition, and reverberated long through the valley.

Shoved away, the troll let out a furious roar, long limbs taut as bows and empty black eyes fixed on its prey. A wall of flames engulfed it.

Eliana straightened, white hot fire crackling in her palms, and relief washing over her as a second fireball hit the troll’s writhing form and drowned its cries of agony in the blaze.

She heard too late the roars of the second monster, awoken from its light slumber by the fracas of battle. A howling - unlike anything she had ever heard - and the crack of trunks shattered in splinters in its wake filled the air. The ground trembled. A sound like bones fracturing broke from the mountain’s side. Blocks of ice and stone detached themselves from the roof of the tunnel as snow engulfed the entrance and unfurled through the passage way in a deadly cold wave.

Eliana bolted through the cave, dodging spikes and shards of rock falling from the ceiling as a long crack tore through. Snow and hail fell in a curtain from the chasm, enlarging the breach to the breaking point. The bones of the earth broke, and the tunnel ripped in half, leaving in its stead a gapping wound, bleeding snow and rock in an endless cascade that came to die quietly into the plain.

Battered against the rock, Eliana struggled to breathe. The weight of the mountain crushing her ribs, she curled and struggled against snow and debris – not to dig herself out, but to alleviate the pain. Her air rare and lungs oppressed by the cold, she still managed to percieve the faint light of day through the hard layer of snow. Closing her eyes, and willing her breathing long and calm, she focussed the last of her magicka in a weak, but steady fire, hoping she would hold long enough to melt through the ice and dig herself a way out.

Warm water prickled like embers on her cheeks. The heat of the flames burned her fingers, as blood rushed back to her extremities. But when a gust of freezing cold wind whipped through the roof of her ice coffin, and allowed her for a deep constricting breath, she realised with dread that escaping the deathgrip of snow might be the least of the hardnesses she’d face on her way to safety.

Sun was slowly but surely setting west, bathing the mountain in a gold and rose light, as above her, the skies turned dark and stars like fireflies danced on the firmament.

'Fear not this night.’, she recited, digging her way through the snow, and struggling to keep enough focus to maintain the shadow of a flame in the palm of her hand. 'You will not go astray.’

Snow impeded her movements. Debris carried from the mountain’s slopes littered all that remained from the path, a white cold edge overlooking a dark emptiness, threatening to collapse at the slightest chance.

'Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way…’

Darkness and blizzard had engulfed the Throat of the World when, a distance ahead, the flickering light of lanterns filtering through stained glass came piercing through the night.

A brazier burned, atop of a flight of stairs, on the right of which, in an alcove sheltered from the whims of weather, a tall statue of a man slaying a serpent overlooked the path.

Clenching the broken amulet of Talos around her neck, shivering and stumbling, she climbed the stairs and pushed the black-iron doors. A wave of warm, encense and resin charged air whipped her face. The contact of stone under her body was her last with reality.

She came by to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, and the scent of dust and herbal tea, covering that of smoke and resin. A heavy thurible was hanging above the bed, warm light and ghostly ribbons of smog twirling over its edge. Banners of teal and pale yellow ornated the dark massonry of the temple she barely remembered reaching.

She straightened, the pain in her ribs gone, with only a bruise and a few frost burns to remind her of her misadventure. Her robes were drying on the back of a chair, water still dripping from the sleeves and bevelled hem, and a warm dark wool cover wrapped around her, keeping at bay the cold her breast-band and breeches could not. A steaming hot bowl of amber liquid rested on a stone stand, on her right, the warmth and fruity taste of snowberies and dragontongue bitterweet on her tongue. She coughed, and put the empty bowl back on the stand, before she dared try her footing. Her muscles protested, a cold gust of air prickling her skin, but she was otherwise fine. She searched for her bag, finding it at the foot of the bed, and pulled Gerdur’s green dress from the pack, relieved to find it slightly damp but still dry enough to be worn.

Keeping the blanket wrapped around her shoulders - the linen dress too thin for the crisp air of the monastery – she descended the corridor to a flight of stairs, and reached into a wide open hall, littered with potteries and candles.

Kneeling before a bas-relief depicting Kyne enlightened by a brasier, a hooded monk slowly rose to his feet to greet her. The young woman bowed respectfully.

“I am Master Arngeir.”, the elder introduced himself. “I speak for the Greybeards. Few are those who find their way to our sanctuary, in those troubled times. Fewer who dare to brave the wrath of Kynareth on the pilgrim’s path. Tell me, now, traveler, what have you come looking for, in High Hrothgar?”

“Guidance.”, the young woman breathed. “I… am answering your summons.”

A spark of recognition ignited in the elder’s eyes.

“So… A Dragonborn appears, at this moment, in the turning of the age.”, he breathed in reverence. “The Breath of Kyne herself murmurs through your Voice. We are honored to welcome you to High Hrothgar.”, he greeted as three other monks joined the hall and bowed in turn to their visitor. “You must have many questions…”

The young woman nodded.

“Why me?”

“That is for you to discover.”, the elder smiled comfortingly. “Many have come, before you - many of the Dragon Blood - since the One first bestowed that gift upon mortalkind, in search for answers to the same question. But Akatosh’s will lies beyond the sight of mortals, and even the very wise cannot see all His ends. As for your destiny, it is not ours to question.”, he mused, considering the young woman before him. “If it is guidance and wisdom you seek, we will help you in that pursuit, just as the we have sought to guide those of the Dragon Blood that came before you.”

Eliana nodded silently.

Ever since her encounter with the dragon, since his soul scorched through hers and in his dying breath he named her dovahkiin, a sense of impending doom weighted heavily on her shoulders. Her steps were hard and painful, like fighting against a current there was no escaping from. But when she reached the foot of the mountain, as she traveled the slopes of the Throat of the World, and now she stood at the very heart of Kynareth’s sacred domain, for the first time she felt at peace. Breathing came easier, the aching of her limbs subsided, and even the weight of memories seemed lighter on her heart.

“Teach me, then.”

The monks exchanged a glance, as Arngeir led her to the centre of the hall, where cracks and carvings overlapsed, covering the stone pavement in an intricate patern.

“Without training you have taken your first steps on the way of the Voice. Now let us see if you are able, and willing to learn. When you Shout”, he started explaining, “you speak in the language of dragons. Dragons have the inborn ability to learn and project their Voice. Language is intrinsic to their very being. There is no difference in the dragon tongue between debating and fighting. Shouting comes as naturally to a dragon as breathing, or speaking. Dragons also are able to absorb the power of their slain brethren. A few mortals are born with similar abilities - whether a gift or a curse has been a matter of debate down through the centuries. Some believe that Dragonborn are sent into the world by the gods, at times of great need. But we will speak more of that later, when you are ready.”, he added before she could ask further. “In the mean time, we will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfilment of your destiny.”

She remained at the monastery for two days, practicing her Thu'um, honing her skills, meditating on the Way of the Voice, her place in Akatosh’s schemes, and whatever the Greybeards accepted to teach her.

“There is indeed much that we know that you do not.”, Arngeir admitted, when she questionned him, “That does not mean that you are ready to understand it. What you have already learned in a few days took even the most gifted of us years to achieve… You have shown that you are Dragonborn. You have the inborn gift. But do you have the discipline and temperament to follow the path laid out for you? You have been given this gift by the Gods for a reason, but d o not let your easy mastery of the Voice tempt you into arrogance of power. That has been the downfall of many before you.”

25 th of Last Seed – 4 E 201 – Windhelm – The Palace of the Kings

The courrier collapsed on one of the benches, out of breath, as Galmar Stone-Fist unsealed and read the message from their advanced post in the Rift. The general cocked a brow, and read again before he sent the messenger to the Bloodworks to rest, and headed to the war-room.

Frowning upon the map displaying their locations, Ulfric was planning on sending reinforcements to the three holds circling Windhelm.

Ten days had passed since that ambush at Darkwaters Crossing. A week since Helgen. Only days since he returned home, exhausted, wounded, escorted by half as many soldiers as expected… The end of what was meant to be a quiet travel to Riften and had become an awaken nightmare, filled with Imperial soldiers, Thalmor justiciars, and dragons.

“For Talos’ sake, Ulfric! You look like you’ve been dragged through Oblivion and back!”, the housecarl exclaimed upon the jarl’s arrival.

“I’m glad to see you too, my friend.”, Ulfric responded and collapsed on his throne.

His head in his hands, Ulfric told Galmar the whole story, from the ambush, Tullius’ plans to take him to Cyrodiil for a formal execution and how a broken axle forced them to change course to Helgen, the prensence of the Thalmor, both in the Rift and in Falkreath, the nameless mass grave dug in midst of Falkreath forest where the Imperials meant to bury them, and the dragon’s attack, dark wings unfurled and hellfire razing Helgen to the ground.

“However they got word of your journey to the Rift, if there are traitors amongst our ranks, we’ll find out.”, he assured Ulfric, his mind set on bringing the traitors to justice, but beyond that he knew what the jarl was really concerned about. “A dragon…”, he whispered.

“The harbingers of the End of Times…”, the jarl muttered. “Is that it, my friend… Have we gone too far? Is it time?”

Galmar walked to his friend, concerned.

"Are you alright, Ulfric?”

“No.”, the jarl answered truthfully. “But I will be… I must.”

That was five days ago.

Ulfric had fully recovered from his misadventure in Helgen. And here he was: the jarl of Windhelm, the very heart of the rebellion, ready to rule again, to fight again.

Galmar cleared his throat in order to draw his friend’s attention.

“What is it, Galmar?”, the jarl asked still starring at the camps on the map.

“A message from Gonnar Oath-Giver.”

“Has something happened in the Rift?”

“It appears the Dragonborn has been seen. A patrol has made contact on the twenty third, and the guards of Ivarstead confirm her arrival at the village, to climb the Seven Thousand steps.”

“Her?”, the jarl repeated.

“Gonnar couldn’t send much of a description but according to his men, the Dragonborn is a young woman. Not the warrior type – the men describe her as wearing novice robes.”

Ulfric let out a snort and smiled. A young mage called to arms to defend Skyrim against her foes, and stand as a ward against evil. The Gods had a weird sense of humor when it came to choosing their Champions.

“She left the temple the day after.”, Galmar kept reporting. “Heading to Whiterun.”

Ulfric said nothing for a second then took the note and read it through.

“Send the word to every camp, and to our allies in Whiterun - if she has taken residence in Balgruuf’s city, the Greymanes must know. I want weekly reports on her moves and her whereabouts. Treat her as a potential ally, but avoid direct contact as long as her allegiance remains unsure.”

The bear nodded and left the room.

Ulfric read the whole letter again and left the paper on the corner of the table before he headed back to work. The jarl found himself humming a tune that brought him both hope and uncertainty.

'Our hero, our hero claims a warrior’s heart,

I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes.’

[thatoneshadyshop]

2nd of Heartfire, 2E 581

Is there any point, one wonders, of one pointing out yet again that one was correct?

The ruins of the Ayelid tower had seemed as if they would provide good protection for the evening. Twas a defensible position, the walls that stood obscuring us from view of the hungry animals in the forest beyond, and the reputation of the sorceries of the Ayelid keep most bandits and other brigands at bay, even these long centuries since the last of the Wild ones passed from this realm.

Indeed, the ruins did their job. It was no bandit attack at dusk that brought disaster to the evening. Twas no hungry, desperate for a meal, nor even an overly jovial merchant seeking to share a friendly fire.

One knew it was foolhardy to draw the attention of the Daedra. One knew that the Dunmer’s worships risked too much. One knew, and was proved right.

Twas the screech that alerted one at first. One had been seeking sleep in one’s tent, the watch taken by the Argonians at the time. Such creatures shriek in such a way that the sound seems to shudder in one’s soul, so the sound chills one’s nerves and sets every last nerve on edge. That it had been able to pull itself into this realm so easily, without any disturbance in the aether to be detected, speaks as to the measure of its’ power. That Moawita approaches is, to be sure, no coincidence. In these days before the rites of the Psijic are completed, the dark energies of the fouler realms of Oblivion cluster heavily on the aether, disguising such disturbances. 

It matters not, one supposes, how the creature came to be in this realm. What matters is that it was, and that it was hostile. That it attacked, intently, determinedly, as if driven by a compulsion to see our company destroyed. Were it a lesser creature, one would have understood, but among the Daedra, one would have thought the Spider Daedra children of Mephala among the more intelligent and cunning.

There was no time to gather one’s bow and arrows. The Spider was upon us already, too close for one’s usual weapons to be of us. Twas instead armed with an ethereal blade of conjured magic that one confronted the creature, with magic and cunning. Others too, the Argonian brute rising to the defence of her lady love with the tools of her trade in hand; the female Dunmer servant appearing from the shadows with a knife in hand; Qau-dar with claws bared; even the heretical fool of a Dunmer who was responsible for drawing the Spinner’s gaze upon us came forth. One is surprised he did not fall to his knees in rapture at seeing a creature of his dark mistress so close, surprised he did not aid it in its’ obvious intent to kill us all. For all one was to know, twas his intent all along, the reason for his visit to that accursed shrine. For us to be an offering to his dark mistress, murdered on the road by Spider Daedra talons and a Dunmer knife in the back.

To fight a creature of the Spinner is never an easy thing. They are cunning creatures, as befits their Mistress, their talons and fangs dripping with poisons as they reach and graze and rip. The beasts can summon bolts of lighting from their fingertips with which to strike, and cast forth webs of near invisible strands in which to entrap their victims. In the fight that followed, Qau-dar very nearly found himself on the receiving end of a hurled blast of lightning, while one oneself very nearly stumbled and fell, one’s feet becoming momentarily entangled among the webs. Too close to many people did the talons come. Thanks to that creature, the female Dunmer may claim a new scar upon her shoulder, and the Argonian warrior herself took more than a few scratches and blows. A remarkable women to withstand so much and keep fighting. 

One is not entirely sure which blow it was that finally made the creature stagger. It may have been one of the Dunmer’s cuts as he weaved around the creature’s blows. It may have been one of the mighty strikes from the Argonian, or one of the opportunistic stabs of Qau-dar. It may have been one of one’s own cuts, or come from one of one’s returned blast of lightning or gout of flame. For all one knows, Ma’Riahni may have gathered energy enough to stagger the beast. Frankly, it matters not. The beast stumbled, fell to its’ knees for a moment, and in that moment, the Argonian warrior struck and caved in the Spider’s head with a mighty blow.

The death of one of Mephala’s servant may go unnoticed. Or it may not. Tis hard to say. The Psijics on Artaeum will by now have completed the Rites of Moawita, strengthening the protections between Nirn and Oblivion, sapping the strength of the dark spirits and the Daedra who would seek to force their way onto the mortal plane.

That one of the Spiders came is surprise enough. The only explanations one can think of has the Dunmer to blame, for was it not he who worshipped at the shrine of the Spinner? Is it not him who holds that Prince in his heart and drew Her gaze upon this endeavour? Yet he stood and fought the beast. He did not protest its’ death, even as one imagines he internally was anguished to see one of his god’s children perish on the mortal plane. Had he planned this, had he intended any of our company as a sacrifice to his Prince, he would not have fought. Even as one considers it again, one sees the folly of that notion. The foul Dunmer needs this journey to succeed, his life depends on returning. His return in turn depends on one, on the Khajiit, on the Argonian. It makes no sense for him to look to have us killed, even in the name of the Prince of Lies.

Pah. There are more questions than answers. All that is certain is this: One was correct. Twas unwise to draw the gaze of a Deadra upon us and our journey. Twas most unwise indeed.

[talldarkandroguesome]

20th of Last Seed, Loredas

Luayl had much to say to me. Most of it was scolding. He railed at me for having directly gone against his warnings that it was dangerous to experiment with shadow magicka and that it was a dangerous magicka to start with. He asked me why I would ever think that I could do so after his strict direction to the contrary.

I admitted that there was a time where, when I did not have my soul in my body, where I had done something similar, but far worse to myself. I had wound up dead from the process, but that it was necessary to fight a Daedric Prince for the good of Nirn, so I had done it, despite the pain.

Luayl seemed unsure of what exactly it was that he was supposed to say in answer to that. Then he took a deep breath, smoothed his robes, and spoke again in a calmer tone. He asked me why, if it had literally killed me before, I had gone and attempted the same thing once more, especially now that I had my soul back.

I gave him the same rhetoric I gave Mother about the importance of saving Mournhold and protecting as many lives as I could. He grumbled, saying that if I had not been so hasty, instead concentrating on the spells that I knew that did not come from such a dangerous source, then I could have likely succeeded without endangering myself so, let alone bringing myself to such a state.

I think it was when he looked me in the eyes to tell me that in which he seemed to truly look upon how much it had gotten to me. There was a part of him, a subtle tug at his lips, which belied a pity that he held for me. After all, how could I go out in public like this? How could I present myself at all?

Taking up a seat beside me and placing a hand gently on my chest, he told me that sometimes the sacrifice of a part of yourself would have less meaning if it meant you could not come back from it. It was too dangerous. It could have been deadly. He had me walk through everything and reminded me that if I had not been found by that soldier, or so I claimed that Naryu was, that it may have turned fatal.

I apologized to him and said that I had been told what I had done was the correct path. That even if it had meant my life, giving myself to prevent the destruction of Mournhold would have been worth it. I was but a single life, there were thousands in the city. He had been one of the ones to teach me about that in House Intelligence. We were weapons, tools, towards the betterment of our House’s goals.

Something struck him there. I had been trying to put a brave face on everything for his sake, but my words seemed to have wounded him instead. Tears filled his eyes and he shook his head and then apologized to me. He said the system was broken. Too many lives were lost over petty gains. He had seen too many of his students fall victim to the system as it was. He did not want to lose any more of them. He did not want to lose me.

Though it hurt, I gritted my teeth and place a hand upon his. I told him that I did what I knew was right. This was about far more than just the House. This was about protecting Mournhold. About protecting Morrowind. The Maulborn were dangerous and insidious in the way they infiltrated a place to spread their blight. I did not want that for our people. I did not want that for my family. For my young son. For him.

There was a moment. A magnetism that seemed to come. I assume it was just the fact that Luayl was caught up in the emotions, but he leaned forward as if to kiss me, before he seemed to realize himself and pull back. I grabbed the front of his robe and held it in place, searching his face. He seemed unsure. I closed the distance between us and felt the cool wetness of his tears against my cheeks and the softness of his lips on mine. A searing pain went through me as the spellscars came in contact with him, but I did not care. I felt alone. I felt as though I was being rejected. I had done the right thing, but they were keeping me isolated, away from where others might see me. Pride our House had, but they did not wish for anyone to see the cost I paid.They did not wish to lose face.

It was wrong. I know that.

It was selfish.

But in that moment I just needed to feel something. Even though it hurt then. Even though I knew it would make things more complicated later. I just wanted to feel as though I had something that was worth another person caring for. Something other than pity. Something deeper.

Luayl kissed me back, a confidence building in him for a moment before he pulled away and took my face in his hands. He told me that we should not--could not do this. Not again.

I told him to shut up and kiss me. I did not give a damn what the House thought. We were both adults. He was my teacher, but he was my employee. The power dynamic was different now. And it was no one else’s fetching business. I just laid down my life for their sakes. Again. They could shut their fetching mouths for a moment and let me have the smallest margin of joy for once.

He laughed and began to say something, but I pulled him back in for another kiss. He laughed against my face, tears still falling. He told me that we really should do something about preventing me from suffering such ill effects again. I replied that I still had healing to do, so when I was recovered and the healers told me I was allowed to utilize magicka again, then we would resume my lessons.

Luayl told me he had to report to the healers. They wanted to know more and House Intelligence had requested to know as much as possible about my mission and my prognosis. I sighed and told him that I understood and that he should, of course, take care of that. He promised that he would visit me, just that I should remember that my actions reflected on him and the House was accusing him of having taught me the unsafe magicka that caused my current state. I told him to send the spy master to speak with me, that I would gladly explain it myself if he did not believe Luayl. 

Luayl nodded and took his leave with a bow, giving one last sad look at me as he made his way out.

Avon came by later, he looked as though he were sick with worry before he even saw me. Yet as soon as he did, he let out an audible gasp and asked me by the moons and stars had happened to me. He asked if it was anything to do with my soul being in the Spiral Skein. I explained that I had done a more controlled version of what I had done in the battle against Nocturnal and that I had spellscarred myself, as well as burnt myself a bit on the inside.

He ran to my side and I winced and he squeezed my hands. To his credit, he pulled back as soon as I cried out, asking what hurt. I explained about the scars and how they hurt. He brought a salve with him that helped to soothe some of the pain, it was lessened at least. Like the healers, he was very shocked at the color of everything and speculated that perhaps it was a direct result of my connection the Daedric plane my soul resided in. There were tales of priestess of Azura who spent too long in Moonshadow or forced themselves beyond their means with arcane matters, who wound up with azure eyes. Their spellscars were typically of the same color, too. Since my Prince was associated with crimson, perhaps it was something similar, a sort of sign of the alliance of the soul coming through.

It was certainly a possibility. One that he asked about learning more about. I told him that if he and Plays-With-Fire thought they could learn something, find more answers, I was not opposed, though I knew that the House was being very strict about who was allowed in. I suggested that he have Plays-With-Fire come as a sort of caretaker or escort for Sildras when he came, and that it would allow him to enter without the usual need for paperwork and stamped permission.

Avon said he would see if Plays-With-Fire would be available or not. He also wished to discuss what to do about Sildras. Obviously, Sildras was upset that I had returned and was not yet at home. He wished to see me. I explained my opinion about turning it into a teaching lesson and that we should make sure that he is prepared to see me in such a state. To assure him that I was, for the most part, perfectly fine.

We agreed that it would be easier if he knew what to expect. I also explained about my hands. That they were unsure that anything could be done for them. That, save dying and coming back, I did not know how to fix this. Avon said he would see what he could do about hiring an arcane craftsperson to make something enchanted with illusion magicka to hide my eyes and perhaps even the scars. He hoped to have some kind of answers for me soon.

More tests and more questions the rest of the day. Then they confirmed that, given the type of magicka used, they had done what they could. The pain in the scars, supposedly, will fade with time. My eyes, have a slim chance of the same. Everything else, I should be prepared for living with.

I slept little after all of that and was up very early. The healers announced that they would be sending me home soon, via carriage so that my condition might remain hidden, and that I should reset in the meantime.

Sildras and Avon will be coming to meet me and bring me home. I cannot wait to be out of this uncomfortable bed and away from the prying eyes around me. I miss my freedom, little though it is.

[daggerfall]

Isla was 19 when she got tricked by the worm cult into getting killed. She was following a lead on some distant family being alive and she, being an angry orphan who had just spent 2 years as a homeless adventurer who ran away from the orphanage, was desperate for family.

She had only just met Emeric a few weeks before. She despised Tharn already from her time as an only semi-willing apprentice in the Imperial City. She hated daedra and werewolves and vampires and all other assorted Evil things. She saw stuff in black and white still. Verandis was one of the people who first challenged her on her stances.

He was good. And a vampire. He was kind and never reacted to her anger but not in the same way Tharn never did. He never insulted back. He understood where her rage came from. She was a young woman, dealing with an upbringing that had little nuance and few people who actually Listened to her, and who had been through trauma unspeakable. And so he listened to her and took whatever abuse she needed to get out, before turning it around into something to help her. It often made her madder, but in a new way. It forced her to think if she was right or not, and she was a stubborn bitch who would never admit to being wrong.

His sacrifice hurt her a lot. More than she was ready to understand. She came to trust him to hear her out, and remained a constant comparison in her life that bad groups can have good people within them. He was honestly the first thing that helped her understand the nuance that would be required of her to form her daedric cult rehabilitation and reintegration program. People deserve the chance to be good.

He was also one of the first people she was truly broken up by's death. She failed to save him. And she would fail to save more over the years. Nearly a decade.

So getting him back. Getting a SINGLE person back from the clutches of molag bal. Getting not just anyone, but the first person she began to trust and lean upon, who she also kept pushing away because of stubbornness and teenage angst? Oh she was gone.

She's a 29 year old bad bitch who has saved Nirn more times than she can count. She's a mother of a beautiful young girl. She's a successful career woman as an ambassador and founder of the only daedric cult recovery and rehabilitation group in Tamriel. And she is bawling into the chest of a thousands year old vampire who reeks of coldharbour because he still feels like safety and comfort. She saved someone for once.

Cant sleep so I wanna rant about Isla and Verandis