#skooma answers

[the-skooma-den]

Wh– What happened????

oh darling im so sorry you have to find out this way

[chilei-the-hotsauce]

hAPPY NEW YEAR!

HAPPY NEEEEWWWWWWWWW YEAR!

NEW YEAR HAPPY!

HAPPY NEEEEEWWWWWWWWW YEAR!

MAY YOUR NEW YEAR BE HAPPY!

YOUR NEW YEAR IS HAPPY!

YES

YEAR IN WHICH THINE TRULY REACHETH THE TENDER AGE OF 20

i hope you're slaying

[flamexbound]

“Strange place to fall asleep.” from eritvita!! hi yaya!! 👋🏻👋🏻👋🏻

Warning: Druge use. Mentions of drug addiction.

"At least in a vampire crypt, I have a warm fire and fresh linen," grumbled Magna, but her rebuke lacked any heat as the pain she was experiencing made it hard to be angry with the young mage whose only crime was to escape the Nightlord's fury unscathed.

Damned vampires and their death hounds!

Magna had cleaned and bound the claw wounds on her forearm as best she could, but the death hound's claws must have been diseased, for the arm was now stiff and hot, and the edges of the gashes were red and painful to the touch. Still, Magna could hold a dagger and she could walk, and in Skyrim, that ranked her among the lucky and able. Except now, she was completely drained of magic from her fight with the Nightlord Vampire she'd been tasked to eliminate which left her with little to no healing power for her arm.

And it hurt.

“Consider yourself lucky that bastard and his hound hadn't attacked your first.”

Limping, Magna pulled open a drawer in the cupboard and took out a long pipe, bowl stained black and red flecks of blood. “But at least my target was a man of culture and pleasure.” She stooped and fished a hot coal from the abandoned fireplace with a set of tongs. “Until my magika has replenished itself...I plan to dull the pain with skooma. Do not bother talking me out of it.” The worn mouthpiece beckoned her like an old lover. An old friend. As a child, Magna had seen skooma addicts often enough, sprawling like corpses, withered to useless husks themselves, caring for nothing but the next pipe, the next hit, the next dose of mind-numbing pleasure. Skooma was like mercy. A thing for the weak and foolish. For the living and none for the dead. The smoke burned at her lungs and made her sore ribs shake, each choke sending new shocks to the tips of her fingers. Magna moaned, face screwing up, struggling again, but more weakly, now. One more cough, and she lay limp. The horrid pain in her forearm was now a thing of the past.

Everything slowly melted. Soft, warm, comfortable. Someone made a long, low moan. Her, maybe. She giggled. “More.” Magna held the smoke as it bit, blew it out in a shimmering plume. Her breath came slower, and slower, the surging of blood in her head calmed to a gentle lapping. “More.” The sloshing of blood from the vampire's decapitated head washed over her like waves on the smooth beach. The crypt blurred now, glistening in haloes of warm light. The coals in the grate were precious jewels, sparkling in every color. There was barely any pain, and what there was didn’t matter. Nothing did. Her eyes flickered pleasantly, then even more pleasantly drifted shut. Mosaic patterns danced and shifted on the insides of her eyelids. She floated on a warm sea and dreamed of home.

@eritvita

[atypicalacademic]

Oh and this one lol

🍟: What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

What does your OC admit to be their guilty pleasure? What actually is their guilty pleasure?

Alsal doesn't feel guilty about any of their pleasures, and would say so. I don't really think they feel a lot of guilt from their actions or what they genuinely enjoy, as opposed to what they failed to do.

That said, I think they feel conflicted, sometimes, about how easily, how happily they wield the sanctions of their power. They like being a leader, that has never been a problem, but they don't want to be a tyrant. And sometimes it feels so heady, so dangerously easy.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

OC Fridays you say? @the-elder-polls Hello! Naturally that means I'm going to take some time to gush about Josh...because whilst he shares a name, vocation and sarcasm as the NPC found in Dragonborn, he's pretty much his own thing at this point. Teldryn Ensirhaddon-Sero is a Dunmer- naturally, though he is half Ashlander ( Erabenimsun) on his father's side whilst his mother grew up in Redoran lands though her family did not answer to a Great House until moving to Hlaalu lands in the late forth era. Not long after he was conceived his parents fled to Cyrodiil, where he spent the first four years of his life before his mother returned to Blacklight once his father disappeared on a smuggling job. (Born 3E 370- 57 at the start of Morrowind, 268 by the start of the Dragon Crisis). He was well educated, and speaks four languages- Dunmeris, Cyrodiilic, Aldmeris and modern Altmeris. He picks up Ashland and a secret fifth thing later on. He ends up getting mixed up in the Camonna Tong which is how he ends up in Cyrodiil where he is subsequently arrested (murder, arson, treason, more arson). He spends the next 33 years being moved about various prisons and work camps in the Heartland until he is deported back to Vvardenfell and given a strange package.

Josh does not believe that he's the Nerevarine- not in any meaningful sense. What he does think he is, is an Imperial puppet. Yes he technically fulfils the prophecy but there were tweaks made to his official records so that he could "fit it more". Namely in how he was stricken from his mother's family records upon their ascension to House Hlaalu. Yes he fits but he wonders if the destruction of his homeland was a part of the Emperor's plan. He knows for certain that he is not the reincarnation of Indoril Nerevar. What he is, is a descendent of the war lord who ended up being a good host once he slipped on that ring and it didn't give him a big enough aneurysm. Deep down, he thinks anyone could have done the job. He was just convenient. Teldryn drinks- a lot and the habit has gotten worse as he's gotten older. He'll go through stints of sobriety (usually when mourning) and ends them in even longer binges. He developed a taste for skooma when he was on one of those binges and has been trying to avoid the stuff ever since. He ends up getting hooked on Sleeping Tree Sap during the Dragon Crisis and the whole thing gets worse once Sydari (my Dragonborn) gets lost in Sovngarde. He's a pain in the ass. Some Art Some early Josh (3E 427)

Some post Corprus infection Josh (3E 428-29)

And jumping to pre Dragon-Crisis Josh - 4E 199.

[trickstarbrave]

a hotly debated topic in the elder scrolls because morrowind gives conflicting information purposefully:

did the tribunal murder indoril nerevar?

the tribunal says they didnt, but also seems to have a lot of guilt and resentment towards him. the ashlanders say he did, but they could be simply biased against them for replacing the good daedra in worship and cursing everyone.

i think the answer is yes, they did. and also no, they didn’t.

i think when the tribunal became divinity, they did not just get super cool powers. they became every possible version of themselves that ever existed and ever will exist, including versions of themselves they made. theyre an amalgamation, so much bigger than just a group of three mortals with linear histories and futures.

there is one timeline nerevar fell due to his injuries at red mountain. there is one where he’s killed by voryn dagoth. there is one the tribunal killed him.

gods shape reality, so in the end the reality we live in is shaped by what they say happened. except the tribunal are not the only gods--we also have dagoth ur and azura (and possibly the other good daedra lol) who shape reality. so it is kind of a dragon break type situation, except no dragons were actually broken. just a tug of war and constant rewriting of events over and over by multiple parties until the water is so muddied you cant see through it at all.

i think the tribunal remember killing nerevar. they also remember him simply dying from his injuries at red mountain. they also remember voyrn dagoth killing him. sotha sil remembers watching his friend die helplessly and he remembers skinning his face. and regardless, he remembers going against what nerevar said and achieving divinity, and regrets the comprehension of all of these things. vivec too can try to rewrite his own history as much as possible, undo his life being a gang leader and skooma dealer and sex worker, but he cant undo nerevar’s compassion and love for him. he can’t help but admit his guilt in a coded message. and i think almalexia too has regrets and guilt, but she has instead reacted with anger to try and cover them up. she thinks if she kills sotha sil and vivec and gets more power, she can overcome these emotions. she can forget about nerevar. she can stop feeling guilty, and become perfect.

but as the dwemer proved, even gods are fallible. and azura puts it best:

"What you have done here today is foul beyond measure and you will grow to regret it, for the lives of gods are not what mortals think and matters that weigh only years to mortals weigh on gods forever."

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 12

Sadara woke...well she wasn't exactly entirely sure where she'd slept, to be honest. It was all fuzzy. Somehow or the other the first thing she was doing on waking was sitting in the stairway outside her apartment. She stood, groaning, walked up the stairs and into the apartment with a barely-tamed hangover headache.

Walking into the apartment she saw Jiub, who was seated in front of the TV watching some sort of game show. He looked up at her--and gave a mad grin.

"Don't say it," Sadara groaned, raising one hand. "Don't...don't say it."

"Say what?" Jiub smirked now. "How about instead of it I say something like 'good morning, slut?'"

"Is it that obvious?"

"You walk like you got fucked to oblivion and back," he laughed, "Who'd you leave with, anyway?"

"Jolene. The big guy. I remember last night in bits and pieces, but by the time we--you don't want the details, I know. The fucked like a...like it was his last chance. A couple of times. Cuddler, too." She gave a soft sigh. That had been wonderful, a part she remembered well. Silence, warmth, skin contact...she hadn't had anything like that in ages.

"The big ones always are."

"Thank goodness the hangover's not that bad. Headache's not bad, memory's a bit fuzzy, but..." Sadara raised her left hand and waved it a bit absently.

"Holy fucking shit." Jiub's voice turned deadpan, "Where did you get that ROCK?"

"Rock?"

He gestured to her hand, and Sadara looked - seeing not the moon-and-star, but an intricately carved ebony ring studded with scarlet rubies all over. Boxy, with a spike at the top...a spike whose tip was the biggest ruby she'd ever seen.

"Well, that explains why I haven't been hearing Nerevar..." Sadara's face sunk into her palms, "Jolene kept insisting on spending money on a bunch of things. Wooing me or whatever. But why he'd give me his ring--I must've swapped with him or something..."

"Check your pockets," Jiub said, "Maybe you'll get some hints? Hope to the nine you didn't buy it from a pawn shop on credit."

"Good idea."

She emptied her pockets. There were several receipts - one from the casino, cashing out her winnings, which were (somehow?) in her Venmo account. Another from a restaurant, including two meals and a 'giant' sweetroll. Then there was one from some hotel, and another from some bar she'd never heard of. Then a ticket stub from a theater. Jiub made several comments as each one popped out.

"350 drakes? Nice work...some people have all the luck."

"Dude took you to see Cats, he must've been serious."

"Twenty bucks for a drink? He must've taken you to a tourist trap. Sure you didn't pay for these?"

"I'm sure, I checked." Sadara sighed, "He was a lot of fun, though, wouldn't mind seeing him again. Sweet guy...kinda shy, too, like he hadn't been out in ages."

She pulled one final receipt out. At the top was marked SURAN WEDDING CHAPEL.

"Oh, no..."

At the bottom was pinned a small wrinkly side picture of her and Jolene--him with the bandage on his forehead she still vaguely remembered. Both of them were smiling, and there was a wonderful softness in his eyes, a warmth she could feel even just looking at.

"And we were both wasted," Sadara gave a slight laugh, "I don't even know his name--"

"You don't even know YOUR name, you mean." Jiub gave his own laugh. "You're a married woman now."

"How the hell am I supposed to find him again? I can't just turn up to every party hoping he's there...like I don't have enough problems."

"The Sixth House folks probably won't take kindly to you getting hitched to some random guy but...if we can kill Almalexia, however temporarily...we can handle anyone that decides to make trouble."

"Including Dagoth Ur himself?" she questioned.

"See previous answer." Jiub shrugged. "Give me enough skooma and I could do anything."

"Sooner or later we're both going to have to get sober." Sadara sighed. She had to admit he had a good idea. A ring this expensive, surely someone knew whose it was, or would be the person missing it.

The moment she posted the picture and question, a new thought came.

"Fuck, what if they think I stole it?"

"Just mention the chapel," Jiub said, "Say you got drunk married. That should put anyone with half a brain off."

She shared her own post and added that, and then sat back. "I guess now I wait."

"Guess so." she paused. "How was your night? I never asked."

"Good enough. Came back early, after the ordinators showed up at Greg's. Spent half the night losing to some legendary spammer on Pokemon Showdown, then beat him with some strategy I'd seen a couple times before. Guy was so salty he got himself banned."

Sadara laughed. "You beat him with a troll team, didn't you? ...what was that one you were looking up a while back? The FEAR strategy?"

"Something like that." Jiub smirked. "Nothing better than collapsing some chud's ego with a semi-elaborate plan that makes him think I'm barely trying."

"You'd be dangerous if you had any ambition."

"Ambition is how people get into trouble, and I have enough of that as it is." There was a pause. "Anyway, did you have any plans for lunch?"

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

"You can't wear that in here."

Nibani said it the instant she saw the ring two nights later, when Sadara and Jiub walked through the door of the Waffle House.

"Well I'm sure as hell not leaving it at home, it's not mine, and it looks expensive," Sadara groaned. "I don't want to get into any more trouble if whoever it belongs to turns up wanting it."

"What do you mean, any MORE trouble?"

Jiub walked behind the counter and lit a cigarette. "Our girl here is now a married lady!"

"...and that's trouble? Did you marry a Temple priest?"

"Uh...well..." Sadara shook her head. "No. Not that I know of?"

"What do you MEAN, not that you know of?"

"I was...uh...pretty...well, no, REALLY drunk." Sadara shrugged, and got to work with some remaining dishes in the sink. "I wanted a rowdy night, you know, and I got it, but apparently a roll in the hay isn't ALL I got."

"You kids today--" Nibani sighed.

"We live in a world of shit, I'll take joy where I can find it." Sadara shrugged. "I'll keep the ring in my pocket while I'm here, problem solved."

"Do you remember anything about the fellow?"

"Aside from how big he was?" Sadara thought for a moment, and then realizing it could be taken differently than she intended, added, "Tall, I mean. He was...actually charming, in a sad wet cat kind of way. He seemed like he didn't get out much."

She really did want to see him again. Even if she was a rebound while he was getting over whoever he was bawling about, he'd been pretty nice. A good date, certainly...if a very drunk one.

(The picture had been slid into her wallet. It put a smile on her face when she glanced at it...no one had ever looked at her like that before.)

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

One week of relative silence passed. Dagoth Ur did not show once in that time, and neither did any of the sleepers they'd all become accustomed to seeing. Not so much as a like on Morrowtwitter. She would've been relieved, if that silence wasn't so worrying.

But there were, thankfully, other concerns.

Business was as slow as they'd ever seen it at the Waffle House.

At the end of a couple hours of nothing, the door opened. In walked a haggard looking Dunmer adventurer toting a big bag.

"Gods above, this has been a long journey. Give me some waffles and a large coffee," he said, "And tell me if you see anyone on the road that looks even vaguely like an ordinator."

"Steal something important?" Jiub asked. "It ain't much better up here. The armigers...they'll fuck you up too."

"Yeah, yeah. I went through the Ghostgate, but I don't think they...had gotten the memo yet. How, I don't know. There's a price on my head everywhere else. Don't know why I took this job."

"What job?" Nibani asked. "I don't want to deal with the armigers or the ordinators, it better only be moon sugar you're trafficking through here."

The dunmer laughed. "Yeah, I WISH it was only moon sugar, then maybe I wouldn't have all this shit on my head."

"What is it? I'm not gonna tell anyone, the Temple wants me dead anyway." Jiub, curious, walked on over to bring the waffles himself and so did Sadara, once she got the coffee.

It was ashes...and bones.

"Just bones?" Sadara asked.

"These aren't just any bones!" The dunmer said, "If they were...well, I'd still be in trouble, but not to this degree."

"Spill then. Whose are they?"

"Saint Nerevar's!"

"Now I KNOW you're fucking with us," Jiub said. He turned back to the grill. "If those were Nerevar's bones..."

"Look, if you don't believe me, that's fine. I just don't want to get caught by the ordinators with 'em."

"You don't wanna get caught by Dagoth UR with them," Sadara piped up. "You think the ordinators will be angry with you? That's nothing to--"

"Who the fuck do you think ASKED for these?"

"WHAT!" Nibani rushed forward, and the dunmer moved back in response. "You think to hand Nerevar's bones over to the SHARMAT?"

"I'm getting paid for it, so yes, I am!" the guy practically shouted, and being taller than Nibani, simply held the bag high up over her head. "He's desperate for them, apparently."

"Man's obsessed with Nerevar, always has been from what I hear," Sadara replied. "You might be helping out Morrowind by handing the bones over."

"How would that be helping Morrowind?" Nibani asked. "Delivering Nerevar into the hands of an enemy--"

"Dagoth Ur's not his enemy...at least, I don't think so. Not the way you're thinking. Uhm. You remember that tattoo I got a while back?"

"...yes...?"

"Vivec paid her to do it as a distraction. And it worked from what I saw. Man spent a long time staring at the fucking thing on Morrowtwitter."

If looks could kill, Sadara would have dropped where she stood.

"You got a tattoo. To tempt the Sharmat. What is WRONG with you?"

"I did it for money, alright? Vivec paid me to do it!" Sadara protested. "We needed a new fridge. We--it paid the rent!"

"Of all the foolish--you've put all of us in danger!" Nibani was positively screaming now. "You've gone and gotten yourself into a mess with this drunk marriage of yours. Suppose he shows up thinking you're still available, hmm? Imagine the damage he could do! Do you think of no one but yourself? The safety of Morrowind--the--the lives you endanger--"

"You've never been broke, have you?" Jiub spoke, but wasn't heard.

"Fuck this," Sadara burst out, "And fuck you."

She turned to the dunmer.

"I'll take the damn bones to Dagoth Ur, save you the trouble. The ordinators want me dead anyway. What else can I lose?"

At least HE would be happy to see her, and if she could produce the bones, so much the better. She could explain away the wedding as an accident. She'd heard Nerevar was prone to drunken brawls...so surely he'd understand.

It was nearly morning.

Sadara took the bones, left her apron, and headed out into the blight storm.

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

The walk to Dagoth Ur (the building) was a rather lengthy one, and she had to stop to ask ash zombies she'd normally pass by for directions. They seemed excitable when they saw her, and one even embraced her, making its characteristic gurgles and growls in a rather lighter way than she was used to.

"Yes--yes, thank you, that was a lovely hug, I'm glad you didn't forget how." She'd given it (him? she wasn't sure) a hug in return, and gotten some dried bittergreen petals out of its pocket in return. "Thank you."

The poor thing, she'd thought. How long had it been since they'd gotten a hug?

Her feet were aching and she had the distinct feeling it was a bad decision to offer to bring the bones this far.

But I've come this far...I might as well go the rest of the way.

Even in the blight storm she could see - the building was utterly enormous, palatial even, and she had as she had in the presence of other wealthy homes, the distinct feeling that she did not belong there. There were several sleepers outside, and when she explained what she was there for they let her in, giving her (she assumed for some odd reason of their own) a most hearty congratulations.

Sadara was directed to a side room (parlor, she reminded herself), and sat quietly, looking around the room. Sixth House tapestries, small portraits of House Dagoth members, furniture that looked centuries old...this place, she thought, this place was what would easily be called old money.

This wasn't just a house displaying its riches. This was wealth.

It took almost fifteen minutes for the door to finally open again, and Sadara stood up quickly when a Dunmer entered, flanked by two ash ghouls, one of whom announced him as "Dagoth Gilvoth."

He was relatively tall, and dressed in a fashion that reminded her vaguely of pictures of King Helseth. As if every mark of wealth needed to be shown, so those laying eyes did not doubt--

"So," he said coldly, with an icy gaze to match, "You have brought Lord Nerevar's bones."

"Yes, I--" Sadara started, but was cut off.

"I do not recall you being the one we commissioned to do that. Did you steal them?"

"Of course not. The man--was eager to get rid of them. Said the ordinators were after him...and I--well, I was free." The tone set her on edge, and the look didn't help. "I didn't steal shit."

"Mmhhmm. Vulgarity, as expected of one such as yourself. The bones, if you please."

Sadara quietly handed the bag over to one of the ash ghouls, who turned back and whispered something to Dagoth Gilvoth.

"Good. She didn't hold anything back, at least."

"Who the--I didn't TAKE anything, stop making assumptions!" she couldn't help but burst out.

"Really?" Gilvoth's tone slipped; it turned more snobbish. "Then I suppose you made that ring yourself?"

"The ring? Well--no, I woke up wearing it."

"Try harder with your lies, if you want people to believe them."

"I'm telling the truth. I woke up wearing it...a bit over a week ago. I went to Suran with someone, and...I...ah...married him. I still haven't figured out who he is, no one's got any answers for me. I assume you know who it is?"

"Know who it is!" Gilvoth laughed harshly. "You carry a Dagoth family heirloom and ask if I know who it is!"

"Then tell me," she said, trying to hold back the wave of--something. Dread? No. Or maybe yes. She was anxious, that was for certain. "Tell me whose it is. Tell me who I married. Wait--I have a picture. I assume it's one of you."

She took out the little picture from her wallet, and held it up for inspection.

Gilvoth's face shifted with a myriad of things, things Sadara couldn't quite pin down.

"That is the head of our Great House, Voryn Dagoth. Dagoth Ur."

Sadara paled. "I--I had no idea. If I had known--he was so different, I would never have thought..."

"You would never have married him had you known?"

"I didn't--well before, but--I didn't know there was more to him than the--the cult stuff."

Sadara sat back down. Her face sunk into her hands.

Of course. Of course. It was all so clear now. The sad song. The misery. The way he'd looked at her. The desperate cuddling.

Of COURSE the one time she'd ever had someone look at her like she'd hung the moon was because he thought of her as someone else!

"Cult stuff. We are trying to save Morrowind's very soul, and you call it cult stuff. I can see why--" A shift in tone again, and when she looked up, Gilvoth had looked away before speaking his next sentence. "--in any case, you have done all that is required of you. You may leave."

"I thought--given--won't there have to be some kind of talk about...well..." she raised her left hand to show the ring.

"You will return the ring, and you will leave. There will be no need for a talk of any kind, and certainly not with one like you. Now that we have Nerevar's bones, the mer himself may be revived."

That stony gaze turned back at her.

"Surely you understand it has always been Lord Nerevar that he wants? That that is the only reason he ever turned even a glance in your direction? You who have to show skin to keep his attention for any length of time? You, who carefully avoid accepting any overtures from our sleepers? You, who bring only scandal to House Dagoth?"

Sadara could not find words. She had been looked down on for being broke before, or being practical, but never to this degree. She expected to feel upset, maybe a stab of pain as she had before. But all she felt right now was anger.

"You don't even have the decency to pretend you care for him."

"I could have." The answer surprised them both. If she'd known there was more to Dagoth Ur than this cult he was running, she thought she'd have been a little more open to his...

"Hand over the ring and leave, before I have you removed," Gilvoth demanded.

She stood, pulled off the ring, and handed it to the other ash ghoul. Then backed away, and scuttled around to the door while facing Gilvoth.

"What in the blue blazes are you doing?" he questioned.

"You will remember my face," Sadara said, matching the chill of Gilvoth's tone, clenching her fist as she spoke. "Not my back. My face."

The words were not quite hers, and all but busted out of her. They seemed to surprise Gilvoth, but she didn't stay to hear anything he said.

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

u ok?

not really. Is the manager still pissed?

Like you wouldn't believe. idk what to tell you but I think you might've fucked yourself out of the job.

great. just great. I won't be home today anyway.

trip go that well?

I didn't get paid if that's what you were wondering. turns out it was dagoth ur I married. fml.

Spending the day?

no, they don't want me there. getting a room somewhere. i'll be by in the next few days. or not. I don't know. I need to fight something.

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

I know you don't want to hear from me, but I thought I'd leave you a message anyway, before you start your new life with Nerevar at your side.

If I had known there was more to you than the religion you started, I'd have been more open to you to begin with. In Suran I saw a side of you I wanted to see more of. You were...I liked you. I liked the way you made me feel. I liked especially the smile I saw on your face when I looked at you.

I had a great time. I just wish it was me you wanted to be doing it with.

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

New post from LordNerevar -

Reunited and it feels so good ♥

[skyrim-forever]

Yo Eve, my darling, give me a moon for the fall themed asks. Share all your secrets with me. <3

Hello Winter my queen <3 I would be glad to answer this!

🌙 moon: do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they’re trying to keep?

This is going to be for Theodora as she is by far my most fleshed out oc.

Oh boy, so to start, Theo's parents were a pirate, her father Ricardo Viticius and a noblewoman Kassandra Ves. Her mom ended up running away with her dad when they fell in love, getting disowned from her family and breaking off her semi-arranged marriage. Her father had spent his life before meeting her as thief and eventually becoming a pirate, particularly raided slavers ships along the Coast of Morrowind and Black Marsh.

Theo was born off the coast of Senchal in 4E 177 26 Last Seed. Around two years later her mom goes overboard during a storm in Abeacan Sea. Theo does not remember anything about her and she finds even talking about her uncomfortable. Other women who try to be mother-figures to her cause her to lash out at them.

Ricardo never fully recovers but he is determined to be a parent as he never knew his own father. He decides to move permanently back to Anvil, the city he grew up in. Since the war destroyed the city, the East Empire Company has invested and made the city sort of a company town. Ricardo sees how their greed harms the city and how only the higher level officials have any measure of a good life; this causes him to focus his criminal enterprise against them. So Theo grows up with the backdrop of crime war. A lot of her youth was spent learning to fight and prepping to take over her father's work. Although some would say this was no life for a child, she thinks very highly of her dad. He kept her away from the very dangerous stuff, but he respected her and taught her many things about all of Tamriel due to his extensive travels.

Things come to ahead when mercenaries hired by the company head succeed in killing him, her uncle Elo Man-llu (uncle Elo is highkey my fav, iconic dunmer), and many of the crew. Theo is around 14 when this happens and she chooses to live with her friend Phy in Valenwood as they are very close and she's visited her often. They stay there until 18 when they leave for the Imperial City to try to make money and get revenge on the man who killed her family. Due to her father's criminal past (as well as him being a Great War draft dodger :P), her inheritance is seized by the Empire. She joins the Thieves Guild and becomes an Arena fighter in an attempt to gain fortune. Eventually she joins the Legion in Skyrim due to a bargain. The Empire gets the Dragonborn's service in exchange for clearing her father's name and her inheritance.

From ages 16-27, she heavily copes using alcohol, sex, fighting, and occasionally drugs (though that's more of Phy's thing). Most of it is coping with losing her father and uncle, the two people she looked up to the most, but there is also a lot of coping with the fact she's never had a mother and much of her childhood was surrounded by violence and tension. It's sort of a numbing the pain problem. She also has a tendency towards men who are terrible which include, but aren't limited to; a skooma smuggler, a Morag Tong assassin, and a married local official who funds her arena career! This gets a bit better once she starts doing Dragonborn duties mostly because she has less time to self-destruct. Originally she ran from it, only after the events of Dawnguard does she accept it and allow it to give her purpose. Though the newfound fame and expectations become difficult.

And the biggets secret she is trying to keep is orginally that she's sleeping with a Thalmor agent, and then that she's in love with said agent :P

Sorry for writing you a novel! Thank you so much for asking this question! There's a lot of thought put into her that I don't get to explore in fic because the Ondolemar brainworms haha. I just like them so much together you know :P

[ashvampire]

cw; violence, death

At twilight, a number of councillors, merchants and guards had been summoned deep beneath Kogoruhn, into one of its many halls. They were given no explanation as to why, just that it was important and vital that they came.

It was a spacious hall, lit by mage-lights which drifted idly above. They only lit the entrance of the hall, the rest of it was shrouded in darkness.

They entered the hall one by one. Some recognised each other as they came in, and a sense of dread began to hang in the air. They remained silent, not daring to talk. There were guards in and outside of the hall, watching them all closely. As more people came in, the greater that dread grew.

Once all were inside, the doors were closed and then locked by guards. They began to speak then, demanding to know why they’d been brought there. As they raised their voices and searched for answers, the guards suddenly moved. They wrestled and held them down, binding their wrists and putting magicka-restricting enchantments on them.

Once all of them were bound, the mage-lights moved, revealing the rest of the room.

Someone laid on the floor ahead, beaten bloody and unconscious. His truths had spilled like his blood, and he had purposefully been left lying there, where the others could see him. So they knew that they had been caught; that their secrets were now known.

Dagoth Voryn stood in front of them all, holding his hands behind his back to hide their trembling. He kept his face expressionless, a mask he’d learnt to wear in his adolescents. He couldn’t quite keep the fear and guilt out of his eyes, but he held his head high and tried to make himself look confident.

The guards stood behind the captives, making sure no one tried to escape. Each one had been chosen by Voryn. They were the ones he trusted the most; some he had grown up knowing, others had connections to his uncle. He had few he could trust, and he wasn’t even certain the guards he had chosen wouldn’t betray him. There was only one he trusted not to tattle, though he was not a guard, nor of House Dagoth, but a stranger from the mainland. An outsider. He stood next to Voryn, his chitin boots slick with red.

“You know why you’re here,” Voryn said, forcing himself to speak loud and clear, keeping the tremble out of his voice. He didn’t look at any of the captives before him in the eye. He knew some of them; some he’d even known since he was a child.

“You would betray the empire?!” one of them yelled, both fear and anger in her voice. Voryn dared to look at her; she was a Chimer woman, someone Voryn remembered attending numerous council meetings. He now knew her as an informant of the Nordic Empire.

“You betrayed your own people!” the mer beside Voryn growled, pointing his dagger at her.

The woman gave a look of disbelief. “What choice did I have?! We can’t win against the Nords!” She looked to Voryn pleadingly. “Don’t do this, serjo! They’ll destroy House Dagoth! Surely you realise this?!”

Voryn’s nails dug into the palms of his hands. He was well aware of what would come. He knew he wasn’t ready for war. In truth, he wanted to bury his head in the sand, as his father and brother had done before him. But House Dagoth was already starting to crumble, all of its wealth being handed over to the empire, and surrounded by enemies inland and out at sea. It was easier to hide, and pretend that everything was fine. To look away when villages were overrun by Dwemer or pirates, and as his council was slowly replaced by informants of the empire.

It was the outsider by Voryn’s side that had convinced him to look. Not only look, but do something. He had whispered promises of glory and power in his ears, his breath smelling of skooma and his hands pressed against Voryn’s chest. Somewhere in that fervour, Voryn had agreed to all this.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and looked to the outsider, searching for approval. Their eyes met, and there was an unspoken understanding between them.

“Nerevar;” Voryn said with hesitance, and gestured to the people before him.

The outsider nodded, an eagerness in his eyes that Voryn chose to ignore. He started with the one already on the floor, flipping him over onto his back and slitting his throat with one fast motion. Then he turned, and some of the captives tried to flee. They were held in place by the guards, none succeeding in breaking free.

Voryn forced himself to watch as Nerevar stalked towards them, his glass dagger gleaming in the pale mage-light. He went to the woman who’d spoken first, standing in front of her in silence. The woman didn’t speak or move, her betrayal turned to fear. Voryn felt his tremors grow worse, and his mask was slipping. He wanted to tell Nerevar to stop, but his jaw seemed locked in place. Even his eyes refused to move, even though he wanted desperately to look away.

Nerevar lunged, plunging the dagger into the woman’s stomach and cutting upwards. There was screaming, and gagging. Nerevar stabbed his blade between her rips, and the woman shuddered and slumped, taking a few raspy breaths before she went silent.

The others died in a similar manner, and Voryn was still frozen where he was, watching each death with wide eyes. After the last one took their final breath, Voryn dismissed the guards, trying to muster his confidence again. He failed, his voice trembling as he told them to leave.

Nerevar cleaned his dagger on one of the dead’s robes, and then approached Voryn. There were specks of blood on his face.

“I hate you,” Voryn said under his breath. “I knew most of those people.” Nerevar walked right up to him, so close they could feel each other’s breath.

“I hate you,” Nerevar replied, eyes narrowed. “You’re the one who made me kill them.”

Voryn’s hands seemed to move on their own accord, cupping Nerevar’s face. He leaned forwards and gently kissed him on the forehead. “I’ll need you to kill for me again, if we are to fight this war,” he whispered. He tasted blood.

“Only if you do the same for me.”

[themegachessatron]

A Review of my time in Skyrim's Prisons (Featuring some followers): The Chill

This is the (much delayed due to work) eighth part of my Skyrim Prison Review series. In this post I explore The Chill, the only thing in Winterhold other than the College of Winterhold to hold any significance whatsoever as this jail contains much do discuss.

First arriving in the prison and we are greeted with what I can only assume to be a claustrophobe's worst nightmare. The guards had thrown the entire squad into a single tiny cell. Space to move around was effectively non-existent for us. I imagine a singular convict would fare better, but not by much. Also worth considering is our surroundings. We were tossed into a frozen cavern in the middle of nowhere and locked in a sharp metal box. Needless to say the Winterhold judiciary were making their attitudes to prison life clear. They wanted convicts to suffer.

Shuffling myself through the rag-tag squad to better observe the cell interior we see a single bed roll and lantern for illumination. This all aligns perfectly with how Winterhold want their prisoners to leave review scores of one Ancient Frost Atronach out of ten Ancient Frost Atronachs and not even risk stealing from Winterhold because of how badly they'd be treated. Needless to say there was a LOT of debate in the team as to who would receive bed roll privileges and who would have to huddle to each other for warmth. As can be expected from a squad comprised of a drunkard, a donkey, a recovering Skooma addict, a barely housetrained Reikling and a Skyrim Tumblr Sexy Man, yelling eventually evolved into its stage two form: Violence. Just before proper conflict could be instigated though I noticed something.

I still had my equipment on me. At no point did any of the authorities strip me of my gear and as such there would be no prisoner belongings chest in this prison. This can be interpreted in one of two ways. Either the guards that brought me here are largely incompetent and simply forgot to remove my belongings (which seems unlikely given the complete lack of a prisoner belonging chest) or the way I personally interpreted it which was "These guards have the biggest kahoonies in the entire country". They are SO confident in their defences that they don't even bother taking away prisoners' gear. They think even with it all convicts can't escape.

Now it is worth noting that not having their things stolen is nothing new for my companions. I am unsure as to why every hold lets them keep their gear while I lose mine, but I suspect that the answer is very complicated, personalised and more than likely involves Slaughterfish in some capacity. This aside, thanks to our shared equipment not being stolen, picking the adept lock on our cell before any blood was drawn proved simple.

Looking outside my cell I can plainly see where the confidence of the Winterhold Guard derives from. Instead of sending good men to freeze to death guarding pickpickets that also freeze to death, they hired out Frost Atronachs from the College nearby. This proved to be a very effective source of fear, muscle and worry in convicts, so much so that I temporarily deployed the Super Special Dragonborn Information Vision (S.S.DIV) that every Dragonborn has to keep track of my health, magicka and stamina (It's a dragonborn thing, look it up). The atronach was patrolling a small area with only three cells including ours and some barrels inside. Given how small I imagine the life expectancy for Chill inmates is thanks to the cold, I suppose it makes sense to not bother decorating. Once we had properly stepped outside of our cell, the Atronach got to work immediately and began an offensive on our group.

No points for guessing how it went.

A small incline to the right of the cell we were put into let out of the prison, where we were greeted with both a sharp realisation and, surprisingly, a welcome party.

Three additional Frost Atronachs ambushed us the second we stepped out of The Chill, as well as a lone Horker which appeared to be there just to feel included. This troublesome trio posed a triple threat to our squad and even managed a decent hit on me in the ensuing battle, though once again through the power of friendship, magic and Jordan we pulled through (at the cost of Teldryn's Flame Atronach).

It was following the defeat of the Atronachs that we came to a realisation. We were not in the city of Winterhold. We were not even CLOSE to the city of Winterhold. We were, as the less eloquently spoken would say, in the middle of fucking nowhere. We were dragged onto a tiny island in the middle of the ocean in freezing weather (heavy armour and all) by the guards and simply left to die. This goes beyond simple prisoner negligence or torture for military/political information. They were actively trying to kill us because I punched a single guardsman once and immediately surrendered. That is... a very commendable attitude. These guards are even more no-nonsense than the Windhelm Guards and this further supports my arguments about the aforementioned kahoonies.

In conclusion, this was easily the best prison I have seen so far. It fully commits to its cold attitude to prisoning with zero compromise, makes effective use of powerful Frost Atronachs to save on manpower, is incredibly cost efficient in terms of cell upkeep and manages to keep convicts out of the city streets better than any other hold capital by simply imprisoning them several miles away from the city itself in a sub-zero climate that would kill most escapees alone. This facility is beyond exceptional.

Final Score: Ten Ancient Frost Atronachs out of Ten Ancient Frost Atronachs

Thank you for reading this review. I hope that the conclusion to this saga arrives with a smaller gap than the last two did. This is especially important since I've saved by far the biggest for last.

"No one escapes Cidhna Mine"? Yeah right.

[the-skooma-den]

whats a good elder scrolls game, eso n skyrim are pretty trash imnhaao (in my not humble at all opinion)

Well I hate to say it dude but if you don't like the 2 biggest games in the series it may not be the series for you

[sulphuricgrin]

1 & 15 for any/all for the TES OC Interview!

OMG Thank you!! :D

TES OC Interview Game

1. What class do they fall under? Anything they specialize in? (ex: Mage > Illusionist) Have they changed their class over their lifetime or stayed the same?

I answered Lilliandra here

Elikar: If we go by DnD rules, he would be a Paladin. In TES, he would be a templar! His god for the majority of his life would be Stendarr. When he travels to Skyrim with his sister, Lilliandra, he's rather unwillingly picked by Meridia to take her beacon to her Temple and becomes her Champion.

He's strong in Restoration, Mysticism, and Destruction magic, particularly Shock magic. He didn't gain the epithet of Alinor's Thunder during the Great War for nothing! (though he wishes he never did) And he fights with sword and shield, and summons an Aedra spear if he must in battle.

He stays rather consistent with his style in life.

15. Tropes, tropes, tropes! Do any come into mind for this character? Or do they subvert any?

YOU GAVE ME MY FAV ASK AHHHH I got a whole LIST of tropes!! I'll pick some good ones!

These probably contain spoilers, but eh. 🤷

Lilliandra:

Acid-Trip Dimension - potentially her own pocket realm, reflecting her fractured mind/memories; also what it’s like with her torturous illusions

Black Knight - a mirror to Elikar’s The Paladin imagery; especially as Boethiah’s champion

Cruel and Unusual Death - She has an incredible mean streak, dishing these out. Have a list, will not post in an ask in case of tw.

The Dreaded - both to dragons, her victims, and (to a lesser extent) Miraak when she shows up with all the dragon priest masks, having killed his former fellow priests and even his would-be jailor, and a necromantic lich dragon helping her

Evil Hero | Villain Protagonist

Evil Versus Evil - Dragonborn DLC; After waking up the first time on Solsthiem under Miraak's control after sleeping there, she takes great effort to contact Vaermina, offering to torture and give those souls to her in return for a trinket to stop his interference during her sleeping/dreams. Vaermina gives her a steep price and only hours to complete her mission and the trinket would only continue to work if she fed it tortured souls. Lili in turn starts picking off those Miraak has in control building on the island, defenseless, and feeds the trinket their souls. EVIL v EVIL

Faux Affably Evil | Villain with Good Publicity - By playing nice and downplaying her sinister, ulterior motives, she's able to coerce people into going along with her plans without realising just what they've signed onto.  She’s smart enough to use her title as the legendary Dragonborn (Stormcrown) to convince the public she was a hero, and not a villain.

Functional Addict - consumes a majority of drugs, always attempting to cloud the memories; tobacco, moon sugar & skooma, alcohol, opium, etc

Malevolent Masked Man - begins to hide her face, but for privacy and as a psychological threat if it’s a scary mask

Mama's Baby, Papa's Maybe

One-Winged Angel - when she’s willing to transform herself into a Bone Goliath

Pragmatic Villainy

Screw You, Elves! - particularly against the Dominion

Surreal Horror - her illusions and her hallucinations

The Unfettered "Necessity knows no law."

I'm sorry, if this was long! The actual list is SO SO MUCH longer.

[chilei-the-hotsauce]

ALL the artist ask game questions. ALL OF THEM-

omg yes hold up

1. uuh krita, fire alpaca (i used to use fire alpaca but not after getting csp)

2. left? i think? i can draw all directions (-ish) (it wont be good but i can)

3. none?? idk bro i have bad memory (or maybe i suppress them idk)

4. anything from canon media. like i love you boo but why. also clothes and poses

5. i post very little of my art actually lmao whoops. very busy lately but might start posting art again if i remember

6. my hyperfixation at the time. or well, me. also art tutorials i see on pinterest, though that's a bit more conscious i think

7. SCULPTING TRADITIONAL PAINTING GRAFFITI all so cool amazing wow

8. there's so many that i cant even remember jesus christ-

9. everything is keysmashes. i do not name my layers. i am satan

10. mm i actually like drawing shirts i think?

11. music. fun fact i listened to paranoia on loop for over a week. thats what brain rot does to a man

12. uuuh hhand

13. i really dont know. every thing is my thing. every creator is admirable in their own way. love everyone. commit crime

14. death? eldritch horrors? blood? rot and corruption? yeag the good shit

15. my room. at school also because im studying animation and game design

16. making. sprite sheets. for 2d game.

17. i usually have a tea nearby but i always forget it. i kinda drink it halfway when it's still warm, then forget about it and then when i go back for it it's cold so i just chug it all and go get a new one

18. uuh i'd say like? 10? im very gentle and loving with my stuff uwu

19. no. i do not. ok but maybe like. cloth idk.

20. hands. idk bro i drew them so much at one point out of spite i just kinda got good at it and now i just wing it and it looks good and doesnt require much thought. and if it requires thought it's in a funky position but then i just wrangle my own hands a little, inspect it, and then continue to draw

21. lineless, painting-esque, thick lines, realistic, sketchy... yeah good shit

22. nah man i just go straight for the laptop

23. uuh sometimes

24. im satan i dont use references often. but when i do? yeah i think

25. i havent been told so idk

26. i. dont really intend anything on purpose? so when someone interprets something wild i just kinda go "yeaah sure! idk either!"

27. Dno. straight for the art. might doodle thine truly if im not in a hurry

28. nah, but i'd like to! i've made art for two 2D games in the past year and now there's a 3D one in the making. im charged with making the 3D model for our main villain thing and boy is it pain

29. bold of you to assume anything doesnt inspire me artistically (he doesnt know)

30. thats a great question i have no idea 👍

[nuwanders]

i hope you recover soon!! ♥️ sending you well wishes for your health and comfort

i have been rereading king and lionheart and if you’d like to share, what do you think were some of raydrins thoughts during chapter 11 seven thousand steps :) i love seeing her perspective both on him and high hrothgar.. how she carefully chooses her answer about her past.. and the description of the voice…

much love frances i hope you get lots of rest!!

@creaking-skull

hello jay! thank you so much for the well-wishes 🥺 i'm back home now and so far feeling mostly okay <3

this is a really great question! i had to go back and reread a little to refresh my own memory. in short i think raydrin's thoughts at this point in the story are a little all over the place, but he is trying desperately hard NOT to think about (a) mathyas and (b) skooma, and supporting jórunn is his way of distracting himself from those two things.

he is repressing a lot, definitely. so much has happened and a lot of it is surreal, so instead of trying to come to terms with it, he is just. saving it for later i suppose? like with mathyas, i don't think he has yet come to fully grasp that mathyas is gone. it's the type of thing that would hit him at odd times only to escape him moments later. skooma withdrawal i think would have him feeling jittery, ill at ease, paranoid etc. then of course there is his shame and embarrassment at having been "found out" by both cassathra and mathyas.

so all of that is going on at the subconscious level, or at least raydrin is trying to keep it there. consciously, i think he is focusing on practicalities; navigation, guiding jórunn, tending to their needs on the road. if this chapter had been written from his perspective, i maybe would have kept it deliberately light on introspection, to kind of show that he is not allowing himself to dwell on anything.

then, of course, there is jórunn herself. raydrin has always liked her i think, but he is only now properly interacting with her for the first time. i think he pities her, in part (wrongly) because of her disability, but mostly because of the burden she has been saddled with. he is questioning his own abilities, wondering whether she might have been better off paired with someone else. and i think part of him is (guiltily) grateful that it's her who's the dragonborn and not him; in pitying her for her fate, he can make himself feel better about his own problems.

ty again for the ask !! very flattered to hear that ur rereading k&l 🥺this has def motivated me to keep chipping away at the next chapter (when im feeling a little better at least) !

[scales-like-ash]

My new Sona, the Cyberpunk Argonian Scales-Like-Ash :3

The Lore (cause I'm a TES Nerd, don't worry a TL:DR is at the bottom):

Scales-Like-Ash, then known as Reezal-Tei in Jel, is born 2E 554 in the vulcanic wasteland of Stonefalls to the secluded and nomadic Ash-Walker Tribe. The small Tribe with the black scales and white tribal markings, use their nomadic ways to hide from the Great Houses and Slavers of Morrowind.

Ash trained from a hatchling with bows, knives and magic, with the goal to protect his tribe from nearby threats. He's always been an curious, a knowledge thirsty but also adventurous type, with the latter not rarely getting him into trouble.

In 2E 572 his Tribe was attacked by deserted and fleeing Akaviri forces, after their defeat in Stonefalls, on their way back to Akavir. Most of the tribe was wiped out in the blink of an eye, with a few remaining survivors scattered in the wind.

Devistated by the loss of his family and friends, Ash pleadged his service as Arcanist to Hermaeus Mora, the deadric prince of knowledge, in order to gain knowledge and experience to prevent and help other Tribes affected from similar fates across Morrowind and Blackmarsh. In that time he also stopped using his Jel Name and became Scales-Like-Ash.

After years of traveling Tamriel, helping, questing and serving Mora in his quest for knowledge, the Three Banner War started in 2E 280 and calling Argonians, Dunmer and Nords to arms, forming the Ebonheart Pact. Knowing the other Alliances are a threat to every Saxhleel and their way of live in Pact Territory, Ash followed the call and joined the forces.

Three Years of fighting to gain control over Cyrodiil, fate struck in a way no-one anticipated. In the Battle for an Elder Scroll at Arrius Keep, west of the Imperial City, Ash managed to grab one of the mythical scrolls, a lightning spell from an Altmer battlemage, missed the Saxhleel and accidentally hit the scroll, resulting in an magical explosion.

After a bright flash and ear shattering thunder, the Argonian and Scroll were gone, leaving nothing but a smoking hole in the ground.

Bruised, battered, with ringing ears and only tatters of what used to be his tribal armor, Ash awoke in something, that looked like a warehouse but... somewhat off... Everywhere was metal, something like bricks, light in tubes and somehow no wood in sight. His first thought was he's in a dwemer ruin but he knew that there are no Dwemer ruins in Cyrodiil besides that the metal wasn't the usual bronze and no steaming pipes in sight. "Kaoc'... What happened...?"

After gathering his bearings he stumbled out of the weird warehouse only to find a completely different Tamriel. Towers of Stone and metal reaching towards the clouds, scraping the sky. Metal boxes replacing horses. Sirens bleating in the distance. Rancid and foul smells fill the air.

Almost vomiting from the sensory overload he spots a young khajiit woman standing near a railing observing the road.

"E-excuse me... What... Is this place?" Ash asked with shacking voice "Hrrrm? Well this is the Imperial City, silly lizard, too much skooma last night, yes? This one's been there." answered the khajiit with a slight giggle. "No... This can't be... I... Tell me, what year is it?" "So much of that stuff that you even forgot the year? By S'rendarr you lightweights", with a sigh she said, "It's the 17th of Rains Hand in the Year 634 of the 10th Era..."

A shock of realization went through Ash... The explosion didn't simply relocated him, it sent him into the far future. Into an dystopian futuristic Tamriel...

So that's the Lore so far :D

Thanks for reading my Lore and everyone else who doesn't want to read this wall of text or deal with my atrocious english (I don't blame you) the TL:DR of the story is

Magic Explosion sent lizard into a far dystopian future

[changelingsandothernonsense]

5 for teldyrn?

Hello anon.

There's a few fives so I'll do the ones that are relevant for Joshi... I can yack about this bastard all day.

General Information:

5. Sex/gender (bonus points if there's a cool answer):

Teldryn generally identifies as male and uses He/Him pronouns, though he doesn't really place much stock in "traditional gender roles". If he wants to wear kohl then he will, if he wants to drape himself in the finest silk robes and sweet smelling herbs then he will. If he wants to wear a lip stain, then he will. He likes to keep himself well groomed and doesn't really tie that to gender.

He'll also go trap a guar in full fancy dress and call you a bitch for not helping. He's not really fussed. He just dresses in what he likes and does things he thinks would be fun.

If he was filling it out on a form?

Sex? Yes! Gender? No preferences.

Background:

5. Do they worship any gods? Who? How do they feel about the gods in general?

Generally Teldryn recognises the gods but thinks that they are either indifferent to the plight of mortals (the Divines), are seeking worship for self-serving reasons (the Tribunal and the Good Daedra) or just outright malicious (Most Daedric Princes). Generally speaking he doesn't practice any sort of worship to any deity. This attitude is reinforced by his relationship with Azura, who he feels used him to enact her revenge and then spat him out broken and crippled. He's pretty opposed to anything outside of ancestor worship that he practices with the Urshilaku. This to him is practical, the ghosts they are preserving are those closest to him. If he calls his husband's ghost he knows he will answer unless something awful has happened. He doesn't think gods are capable of that.

There is one exception to this lack of worship and that is his seventy-year period as a priest of Sanguine between 4E 65–135. His time in a sex cult is a running joke for Geldis, but for Josh it was a huge low point. He had just come out of an extended period of mourning and isolation. He has a tendency to indulge when he's given the chance and Sanguine preyed on that. He doesn't remember a lot of that time, it was mostly spent fucked out of his mind on skooma and every bottle of booze he could conceive of.

If he had one good thing to say about it? He thought that not needing to wear pants for a few decades was pretty fucking sweet.

Nerevarine:

5. What's their relationship with the Ashlanders? Does it vary by tribe?

This is a complicated subject for him and he has a different answer depending on where on his timeline you're hitting. A younger Teldryn would tell you he has no connection to his father's people outside of looks whilst a Teldryn post the Dragon Crisis would say that the Ashlanders are his whole being.

Teldryn grew up knowing his father was an exiled Ashlander and being treated differently because of it. He takes after his father looks and personality wise and started being called "Velothi" as an insult by strangers very early on. He is bitter about that part of himself, partially because he feels his father abandoned him (he finds out later that he died going to defend his safety). It isn't until he starts running jobs for Caius that he meets any actual Ashlanders.

He starts gaining more of an interest in that side of himself when he met Erra, an Urshilaku guide who acts as his liaison when he first meets with the Urshilaku Ashkhan. A lot of this interest came from his infatuation with the guide and is reinforced when he finally met his father's ancestor ghost whilst he was recovering from Corprus.

Teldryn ends up officially joining the Urshilaku not long after surviving Kogoruhn. He starts to feel like he belongs, though sometimes the fan fair over the announcement that he was Nerevar's Incarnate could be a bit much at times. He has mixed emotions when it comes to being given the position of Great Khan, feeling like he can't live up to that ideal. He leans on Erra a lot during this time and Erra's help is instrumental in his successive acceptance amongst the tribes.

He mostly found trouble with the Erabenimsun, having to kill and replace their Ashkhan and half their ruling council in order to bring the tribe under his banner. He had support from their Wise Woman and a few elders still loyal to his grandfather but had to turn the tides through right of conquest.

Teldryn had issues with the Erabenimsun for a single, major reason. This was his father's tribe, the Ensirhaddon clan holding a high position within the tribe - mostly producing the tribe's mages and farseers as well as having a connection to Indoril Nerevar and the Nerevarine prophecies. The clan was almost entirely wiped out after an assassination attempt on the Ashkhan, Ulath-Pal (the clan had split into two by this point and tensions were high). Teldryn's grandfather was underhanded in his attempts to take out Ulath-Pal and with the help of their sister clan, the Ilaba'andul-Sul's, he tried to poison his rival. This was pretty much the most cowardly thing someone could do, and Ulath-Pal had the whole clan bludgeoned to death in their sleep in retribution. Yani, Teldryn's father managed to escape but this made him an exile and with Ulath-Pal placing a kill order on any Ensirhaddon found, he couldn't stay on Vvardenfell, so he travelled to the mainland.

This kill order is still in place when Teldryn arrives, so he uses his mother's last name when introducing himself (he'd started using his father's name amongst most other Ashlanders to ease relations.) It eventually comes out, and he challenges Ulath-Pal to a duel after he and Erra are forced to take out the Ashkhan's supporters. Having come out victorious, he essentially becomes acting Ashkhan and orders the tribe north.

He fully emerges himself within Ashlander society as he's preparing to defeat Dagoth Ur. He starts dressing like one, starts learning their language, participating in their ceremonies and, eventually, marrying Erra in a slightly modified Ashlander ceremony.

After he recovers from his fight with Dagoth Ur, he is named heir by Sul-Matuul and Nibani Maesa respectively. The position of Ashkhan is one he will dodge for a good two hundred years, believing that Etana, Erra's older brother, deserved the title. Erra was the initial pick and his death really messed everything up. For a while, Teldryn can't bare being with the Urshilaku because of the reminder. By the time Serious Mistakes takes place, he's acting as Ashkhan in an unofficial capacity and generally identifies himself as Ashlander if asked.

After the Dragon Crisis and the birth of his daughter, he starts taking the position a little more seriously and starts acting as Ashkhan officially. By this point the tribe on Solstheim is a confederation of the various tribes that crossed over after Red Year.

He's Ashlander, and proud of it.

Mega TES OC Ask Meme