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datorchoe · 4 years

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TES Hero’s

Bruh I’ve never written this much in my life. This is a description of all my main TES ocs from ESO, Morrowind, Oblivion, Legends, Blades, and Skyrim. Read all under the cut :)

Vestige

Cahira Stegan - Breton, 21 years old, dark brown hair, dark brown eyes

- Cahira was born to a small family in a village called Krratch in western High Rock. Her family wasn’t able to take care of her so they married her off to the Kings son, Tan, when she was 14. She is a prodigy with a great sword, being the one of the strongest people in the village at only 16.

- She is 21 when ESO kicks off. Manimarco attacked Krratch and she gave her soul in turn that way he doesn’t decimate the village. She looses all memories when Manimarco takes her soul.

- Cahira is the strongest of all of the characters on this list. In addition to being a master great sword wielder, when she defeats Molag Bal, she keeps the Aedric powers she is given by the Amulet of Kings.

- After about a year of adventuring & training with her Aedric powers, she has fought and defeated about half of the Daedric Princes shes come across, including Molag Bal, Clavicus Vile, Vaermina & Mehrunes Dagon. After defeating so many Daedric Princes, Cahira absorbs a ton of Daedric energy, and becomes immortal.

- (One thing I did change lore-wise is that Darien doesn’t disappear for a while after Coldharbour so he travels with Cahira for quite a while.)

- Cahira is mother to 5 children. Her first child is named Garbashur. He is an orc that she adopted when she was 14 and living in Krratch. Her next child is a breton named Dynar Gautier, which she had with Darien. Sadly, he never got to meet his son, but after news of her pregnancy, she retired to Camlorn after General Gautier offered to help her raise Dynar. He is named after the Ayleid king from The Hollow City. Her next child is a half-breton half-redguard named Maya, who she bore with Merric at-Aswala who she married after 3 years in retirement. The next two children are half breton half orc half, well, Daedra. Agroh is the older child, and Motkh is the younger child of the Daedric Prince Malacath who Cahira consorts with after her and Merric divorce.

Nervarine

Montague Tesari - Altmer, 718 years old, gold skin, gold hair, green eyes.

- Montague was born in the Summerset Isles in the second era. His biological parents couldn’t take care of him, so they gave him to a family of Bretons living in the Isles, hence his name.

- Monatgue has very few responsibilities he actually cares about. His biggest priority is his son, Denken, who is a half-altmer half-dunmer. His ex wife, Neryn, divorced him 5 years after their son’s birth because he couldn’t keep a stable job. Despite his fathers absence, Denken has nothing but love for his father and vise versa. They sent letters between each other for years until Denken was old enough to go out on his own.

- Monatgue is a very powerful mage. Using mostly Daedric magic, Alteration magic, and Destruction magic. Montague trained with Divayth Fyr for three years after the events of Morrowind. But, it doesn’t last long since Divayth & Montague had a falling out. However, his strongest ability is the ability to commune with animals.

- After spending time with a Hircine cult, he developed a special connection with a lot of animals. This connection is one of the major reasons that Emperor Uriel Septim VII asked Montague to travel to Akavir. As a trusted blade of Uriel, Montague has a lot of political backing to his name. His strength is known and respected by many. This is another reason that Montague was asked to go to Akavir. However, Uriel Septim was assasinated before Montague could return to mainland Tamriel.

- He is still very much alive and kicking during the events of Skyrim. After Uriel Septim’s death, Montague returned to Cloud Ruler Temple to see what was happening. Montague teaches Risiki (HoK) blood magic to help her combat the Mythic Dawn. He also teaches Koraan (LDB) a new shout he learned on Akavir.

Hero of Kvatch

Risiki “R248″ Utherd - Nord, 30 years old, black hair, green eyes

- Risiki was part of an experiment by some scientists who operated out of a cave on the border of Skyrim & Cyrodil. One day when she was eight, she was awoken to the scientist being slaughtered. She runs from the cave and comes apon a small village in the Reach of Skyrim. The villagers turn her away, as she is covered in blood and will only repeat the phrase “R248″. She leaves to the outskirts of the village and meets a man named Urgmard Utherd. Urgmard takes her in and raises her.

- When Risiki was 25, a massive group of bandits comes and attacks the village, killing all of the patrons, including Urgmard. Risiki makes it her lifes work to hunt down and kill all of these bandits. After 5 years, she finally learns the location of the leader, who is posing as a citizen in the Imperial City. She enters the city and slays him once and for all. However, the guards catch her and throw her into prison. Thats how the events of Oblivion kick off.

- Risiki became involved with the Thieves Guild after hearing rumors of Mythic Dawn agents within. She quickly rose to the top and became the Grey Fox. However, after her retirement, she passed the Cowl on to Armand Christophe. She is also the Grand Champion of the Arena, going by the name “The Gatekeeper”

- Risiki’s main weapon is a battle axe, but she was also taught ice magic. After Montague returns from Akavir, he teaches her blood magic, which he believes will be helpful in the fight against the Mythic Dawn.

- Risiki becomes incredibly attached to Martin Septim, seeing as he becomes one of her only friends. Her and Martin had a child named Uria Martin Hassildor. After Martin’s passing, Janus Hassildor takes her under his wing, knowing the pain of loosing the one you love.

- She spent twenty years in Skingrad with Uria before being murdered in The Shivering Isles. Uria went with her mother and got trapped in the Shivering Isles till the events of Skyrim, when Koraan (LDB) rescues her from her suspended time.

Forgotten Hero (Legends)

Carwhien Balfwood - Half-breton half-bosmer, 27 years old, light brown hair, green eyes

- Carwhien comes from a very large bosmer family in Grahtwood. Having 4 half siblings and 17 cousins living under the same roof, she struglled to keep up with her family, being considered the “odd one out” since she was half breton. She never had a good relationship with her father. So when he ran off to join the Thalmor, an organization she deeply despises, her hatred grew more. Eventually, she decided to track him down and make him answer. Being caught snooping around in the Thalmor’s records, they threw her into the Arena with Tyr, the former Blade. This kickstarts the main questline.

- Being bosmer, Carwhien is very agile and light, using mostly daggers. She is also a master of shock and lightning magic. Her bubbly personality and worship of Y’ffre and The Green sometimes makes it hard for her to kill, especially animals. When Tyr and Carwhien encounter the wolves in the woods, she cannot bring herself to kill the wolves and takes one in, naming him Boomie.

- After the main questline takes place, Carwhien returns back to Grahtwood with Tyr, Swims and Laaneth to reunite with her family. They spend a few months there before spliting off. Tyr & Carwhien go to Skyrim and get married and have three kids, Uurfin and Fortar (twin boys), and a girl named Svail.

- They are still alive by the events of Skyrim, when Tyr hears of the Dragonborn’s return, his pride as a former Blade tells him to track down Koraan (LDB) to see what she’s about.

Blades Hero

Holkom at-Muraak - Redguard, 30, Black hair, brown eyes.

- Holkom is a former member of the Blades, who was friends with Tyr, as they were in the organization together. For as long as he can remember, Holkom lived in the small town of ‘Swordbreak’ training with a blade. When he turned 16, he went to Cloud Ruler Temple and joined up with the Blades. After most of the Blades were wiped out, Holkom decided to return home to Swordbreak. The events of the main quest then kicked off.

- Holkom’s main weapon is a greatsword, but being trained by the Blades, he can also use katana’s very well. Holkom has a very “heroic” personality. He enjoys being the center of attention, but would never pull the “people love me” card to flex on anyone. But his massive muscles do flex often.

- After completely rebuilding Swordbreak, Holkom became the new mayor. He then married Sabina Clovia, a breton mage living in Swordbreak. They have two children. An older male named Rhani, and a young girl named Prollie.

- Like Tyr, Holkom was very curious about the new Dragonborn. So, after Tyr met Koraan (LDB), he invited her to Swordbreak to meet Holkom, cause ya gotta look out for your bro’s.

Last Dragonborn

Koraan Buxom - Nord, 24 years old, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes.

- Koraan was born in Cyrodil, close to the border of Skyrim. Her mother is actually a desendant of Risiki’s (HoK) brother, Brarius Velldo. Akatosh thought it would be a funny coincidence. Anyway, Koraan’s parents were doctors in Anvil, and they trained Koraan in medical sciences. At age 10, Koraan’s parents were attacked by vampires. Her mother passed away, and her father became a vampire. However, they were saved by a Khajiit vampire named Raizin, who brought them back to their little vampire sancutary, where Koraan would train for the rest of her life. After many years of being with them, a rival vampire group rose up and killed most of them, including her father. Raizin was kidnapped and sealed away by the other vampires so that he couldn’t fight back. Koraan then ran and spent three years hiding in a cave, living off the bandits that would take refuge there. Afterwards, she went to Skyrim, hoping to find her father. That kicks off the main events of Skyrim.

- Koraan is mostly a restoration mage, however, she is also very adept at telekinisis, being able to hold up the entirety of the College of Winterhold in an effort to keep it steady as it broke off. However, when she first comes to Skyrim, she joins up with the Companions to make some money and begins training with swords. She prefers katana’s but is capable of wielding a greatsword of battleaxe.

- Koraan is the Harbinger of the Companions, but is also the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. She got mixed up in the Brotherhood before Alduin’s defeat and became Harbinger literally hours before going to defeat Alduin. Being the only doctor in the Companions, she has a lot of work on her back trying to keep them alive. Her passive and patient nature is definetly put to the test.

- Koraan adopts three children in her time in Skyrim. Lucia in Whiterun, Zenneth (a Nord boy based in Falkreath and his dog Paku), and Rylu (a Dunmer boy they found on Sothstiem). She also technically adopts Aventus Arentino, but he begs her to let him stay in Dawnstar with the Dark Brotherhood. A couple of years after Skyrim’s main quest, she marries Farkas and they have two twin girls, Kodlin and Parthurn, and one boy, Jergen.

#The Elder Scrolls #The Elder Scrolls Online #the elder scrolls morrowind #the elder scrolls oblivion #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #Elder Scrolls #TES OC #oc cahira stegan #oc montague tesari #oc risiki utherd #oc carwhien balfwood #oc holkom at-muraak #oc koraan buxom #oc lore

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darkstarmie · 7 years

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Guess Im doing this all for Azvel

1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?

Uuuuuuh, the man that raised him, he kind of despises. However he did end up having a large influence in his life.

2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?

He also isn’t too fond of his mother, however he was more fond of her at the time. 3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings?

He loves three of his sisters, Kleo, Koris, and Elaine. He really doesn’t get along with his other sisters

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

Very strict

5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?

Kind of, as they really weren’t allowed to leave their estate much

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

Mostly affection-ish. But also a fair amount of rejection

7. What was the economic status of their family?

They grew up pretty rich. Azvel grew up on a private Estate owned by his parents

8. How does your character feel about religion?

Mostly indifferent, but if he were to worship any deity, it’d probably be Mara

9. What about political beliefs?

He’s mostly involved in politics, however he is becoming increasingly involved and is mostly just against Tyrannical rules

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

He’s more street smart than his sister probably, but also fairly intellectual

11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?

He mostly just thinks of himself as moderately smart, but nothing special

12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?

He normally seems pretty educated by his language, but not too much

13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates?

He didn’t mind school, but it wasn’t his favorite, and he normally just gets along with everyone

14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected?

He really didn’t have much extra stuff to do at school.

15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED?

He pretty much has a bachelor’s equivalent

16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession?

He was a Thalmor soldier, however always hated it. He’s now a pseudo-soldier in the Skyrim army i guess, and is happy to be a help in the war

What do they like about it? Dislike?

He likes helping people and making a difference, but hates having to hurt people

17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?

Alot when he was part of the Thalmor, he would mostly be sent to places like Elsweyr and other parts of the Isles

18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember?

He vastly remembered the poor and struggling members of the other societies and the poor way they were treated by the Thalmor

19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?

He was able to convince himself that he and his sister were doing the right thing by helping the Thalmor.

20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced?

I want to say the Skyrim civil war, as he fought in the war for the Stormcloaks while looking for his sister

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

He is extremely polite, due to his upbringing and his kind nature. He idolizes those who sacrifice something great for those they love. They hate selfish people and Malicious people.

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

His best friend is his sister, hes also close to pip. He’s also dating Darya, his “ideal” partner would probably be someone who is just kind, selfless, and strong-willed

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

He wants just love and support, not much else. Sex is also a very intimate and special thing to him.

24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?

He’s normally hesitant in social situations, and tries to be the guy that just floats by, but he normally ends up being the goofy guy people are just attracted to because of how fun he is

25. What are their hobbies and interests?

He actually really likes writing

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

His home is the Colle of Winterhold so, kinda grey and cold. But his personal style is much more aligned with the typical Altmer-style with lots of golds and warmer colors. He has short curly dirty blonde hair, and normally wears pretty nice clothes when he can

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

He’s pretty comfortable in his appearance and typically looks a little more jock-ish than he acts, his clothing is also normally pretty tight-fitting

28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice?

Well Darya is his current girlfriend. They both bonded over the pain of having lost a sibling. And Azvel was there to comfort her after her brother’s death. He really started having feelings for her when he saw how much she cared for her family.

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

He’s very defensive of his loved ones, particularly his sisters Kleo and Elaine

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

Not really, if anything, he’s still upset about what their mother did to him and his sister. He would never forgive her for this

31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate?

He doesn’t have kids but would love to have them some day!!!

32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?He’s pretty level headed and calm

33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?

He’s pretty healthy, if anything, he could cut back on sweets

34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?

He’s kind of Revengeful mostly because of his family, but thats about it

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

He’s pretty hard on himself when he fails, but also just kind of shrugs it off

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

NO NO NO NO. HE DOESNT WANT ANYONE TO SUFFER

37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?

He’s worried alot, and kind of overthinks things alot.

38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?

He’s really enthusiastic but has become very skeptical

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

They find negativity and rudeness extremely stupid and unnecessary

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

He doesn’t make a to of jokes, but loves hearing them

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?

He’s not very aware of a lot of things with himself, He often underestimates himself a ton. Especially with his looks and charm.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

He wants his three sisters to be safe and happy. He would do anything to make that happen.

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

He kind of thinks he doesn’t deserve his girlfriend

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

He wants nothing more than to avenge his sister

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?

He’s very responsible but can be kind of a worry-wort at times

46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?

He’s tall- 6′4″ pretty buff, but not like bodybuilder kind, more lean. He likes his body

47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible?

He kind of wishes he presented himself as older, but kind of still seems like he’s in his young 20′s. He normally wishes he would just blend in

48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?

Kind of nervous and energetic

49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?

His voice is pretty strong , but kinda higher. Not too high though.

50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?

When being serious, he’s mastered the stone cold expression, but when relaxed he always kinda has a big goofy grin.

Thanks to @middy399 for having me do this whole thing for my husband.

#Azvel

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daedriclorde · 5 years

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Krent Mon Do Akatosh

Homecoming; Chapter 5, “Promise Me”

Final Chapter!

Aerisif was crouched in the shadows, invisible. She had the perfect opportunity, but hated what she was about to do. Taking a silent, steadying breath, she reached into Brynjolf’s pockets.

The Guild Second was oblivious to his pocket being picked. Aerisif tenuously pulled out a folded piece of parchment, and caught a ring before it could clang on the stone floor. She released the breath she had been holding, and scanned the ink scrawled on the paper. Her eyes widened as she looked at the ring.

“Brynjolf what the fuck is this?”

Brynjolf nearly jumped out of his skin. “Aerisif! What are you doing there?” He saw what she was holding and turned cross. The commotion had drawn the attention of Delvin and Vex, who silently strode over. “That’s personal, lass.” Brynjolf reached and snatched the paper from her, only to have it yanked from his hands by Delvin.

Delvin read the note, whistled low, and handed it to Vex. “Looks like we’re in some deep shit, boss,” Delvin said dryly. Vex read the note and slammed it angrily on the table.

Aerisif fixed Brynjolf with an iron glare. “Explain yourself. The Guild doesn’t take sides in the war.”

Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably. “It’s none of your business—“

“This is my guild. It most certainly is my business. Talk,” She commanded.

The red haired man bowed his head in defeat and sighed. “When we were captured in Falkreath,” he began slowly, “and I was left for dead, I said a priest revived me. That was only a fraction of the truth.”

Aerisif tensed.

“The ‘priest’ was more of one schooled in Restoration, and was one of a group of Thalmor that found me. They had seen that the Imperials had tried to eliminate me, and guessed I might be important in the war and revived me. Only to torture and question me,” Brynjolf shuddered slightly.

Aerisif, Delvin, and Vex all exchanged a glance.

“The Thalmor quickly found out about who I was, about the Guild, our members. Who we protect. Our location. I—I tried not to tell them, but I just couldn’t stand it—you don’t know what they can do, I—“

Aerisif put a comforting hand on Brynjolf’s shoulder, but said nothing. Vex crossed her arms impatiently.

Brynjolf continued. “I had revealed too much. They had a puppet and they knew it. Under threat of decimating the Guild, they’ve been forcing me to steal from Jarls and Thanes and other important citizens, and framing others for the crimes. Just to keep the war going.”

Aerisif felt her stomach turn. The Thalmor were the most despised of all the foes she fought.

Vex spat and swore. Delvin pondered a moment, then spoke. “That’s where you’ve been sneaking off to, innit? To get your fuckin’ orders.”

Brynjolf nodded and pulled out an amulet that gleamed like Elven armor. “They use this to communicate. It…it burns when they want me to come to them.”

“Where,” Vex spoke. It was not a question.

Brynjolf turned to face her. “It doesn’t concern you where.”

Vex growled. “I have a right to know what threatens this guild as much as you do, traitor.”

Aerisif shot Vex a warning look and turned to Brynjolf. “I need to know everything. Where are they, Brynjolf?”

Brynjolf ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s a cave southwest of the city. They’re holed up in there. Not far.”

Aerisif’s expression was stony. “What happens if you refuse?”

Brynjolf’s face turned grave and he aged years at the question. He answered in a strained voice. “They…they strike the Guild. I refused once…that’s when,” his voice broke, “Thats when they took Etienne. He was a warning shot to the Guild.” Brynjolf fought to keep the tears from spilling past his eyes.

“That was your fault?!” Vex lunged, but Brynjolf rolled away. Delvin was shouting.

Aerisif quickly regretted not having this conversation in private as she realized a small gathering of guild members were nearby and eavesdropping.

Etienne’s face turned white, and he sank to the floor. Thrynn grabbed Brynjolf by the collar and tried to shake him, while Brynjolf threw a punch aimed at Thrynn’s face.

The dragon in Aerisif’s chest roared. This will not do.

Aerisif unsheathed her sinister blade, gathered up her stamina, and slammed the blade down on the stone. A crimson streak of energy sliced open the air in front of the strike, making the very Cistern bleed. The resounding clang of metal on stone cut through the din of the scuffle, and everyone froze. All eyes were on her. Delvin eyed Aerisif’s sword.

Blade still in hand, Aerisif stood tall and addressed the thieves around her. “We. Will. NOT. Be rent apart by infighting at a time like this. You would let the Thalmor win? Let them tear apart this Guild like they are trying to do to Skyrim? This is what they want! This is what they do! I will NOT have it.”

The only sound was the shallow water trickling around the Cistern. Thrynn released Brynjolf.

Aerisif continued. “There is only one option here. We will not be the puppets of the Thalmor. And I will not allow anyone else to be harmed by them. Get back to work, all of you.” The gathered thieves dispersed.

Delvin, Vex, and Brynjolf walked over to Aerisif. “What are you going to do?” Vex shot the question like an accusation.

Aerisif turned to Brynjolf. “Draw out a map of this cave.”

He sat down at the table and Aerisif hovered over his shoulder while he drew. “Right. So this is the entrance to the cave, its marked by a rune painted on the stone. Almost impossible to see it if you’re not looking for it, though.”

He drew a narrow, winding path from the mouth of the cave. “This hall is dangerous. There are natural hazards here, here, here, and here,” he circled. “And man made traps here, here, here, here, and here.” He drew x’s.

Aerisif’s eyes followed the dark lines on the page. “How big is the cave? Are there other entrances?”

Brynjolf continued to sketch lines out. “I’ve mostly only been in this area,” he motioned, “But I’ve seen at least three rooms off the main cave. And I suspect that there’s only the one entrance, but there is a small hole in the ceiling where light gets in, not unlike here in the Cistern. Not sure how big the opening is, but there is definitely sunlight there.”

Aerisif sighed. “Shouldn’t be surprising that they’ve got themselves a solidly defensible position.”

“How many of ‘em are there?” Delvin asked.

Brynjolf ran his fingers through his hair. “Maybe six? Couldn’t be more than ten.”

Aerisif nodded, scanning the scrawled map and calculating in her head. Delvin was studying her closely.

“You’re thinkin’ about doin’ what I think you’re thinkin’ about doin’, aren’t you?” He asked.

She looked at him coldly. “That depends greatly on what you think I’m doing.”

“You’re plannin’ on goin’ in there alone.”

Aerisif rolled up the map and stood. “I am going alone.”

Brynjolf, Delvin, and Vex all exploded into argument simultaneously.

“You’re mad!” Brynjolf’s eyes were wide.

“Are you out of your damned mind?” Delvin glared.

“That’s fucking stupid.” Vex crossed her arms.

Aerisif’s steel eyes were filled with fire. “I don’t give a damn what you all think about it. I have handled far more than a few Thalmor by myself. I haven’t been running across Skyrim these past few years handing out fucking flowers, you know. This is what I do.”

“I’m going with you.” Brynjolf challenged.

“No, you are not. You will wait here.”

“If you’re seriously planning on going in alone, you’ve gotten a lot dumber since you left us.” Vex cut in. “This isn’t a job for one person.”

“She’s right, Aerisif.” Brynjolf crossed his arms. “You can’t do this by yourself.”

“We’re comin’ with you, boss, like it or not.”

Aerisif eyed them all carefully. She considered a moment, then spoke. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You three agreeing on something.”

Vex shrugged. “It’s not often those two boneheads know what’s best, but yeah. You’ve got back up.”

Aerisif scowled. “Fine. But I need you two to stay here,” she fixed Delvin and Vex with a hard stare. “Hold down the fort. I’ll take Brynjolf and Karliah. We fight well together. Work well as a team.”

Vex shrugged. “Have it your way.” She and Delvin walked away.

She turned to Brynjolf. “Find Karliah and tell her. Ready your equipment, we ride at dawn.”

***

Aerisif slipped out of the mausoleum into a pitch black night, alone. Brynjolf and Karliah remained in the cistern, asleep and unaware.

I’ll be back with Thalmor heads before they even wake up.

Torches dotted Riften’s walkways, but Aerisif kept quietly to the shadows, making her way out of town. Her midnight Nightingale Armor cloaked her in ebony, making Aerisif inseparable from the night.

Shadowmere’s red eyes pierced the black oneness of the surrounding forest. Aerisif softly padded over to her stall. She whispered gentle greetings to the horse while adjusting her tack. In a swift motion, Aerisif slid into the saddle and kicked her steed into motion. Shadowmere charged into the night, eager to stretch her legs.

Six Thalmor were a challenge, but a challenge she could handle. Ten was definitely a risk. She thought back to when she rescued Thorald from a whole keep of Thalmor. She could do this. Her inner dragon was pacing, ready to attack.

The two obsidian figures tore through the forest of the Rift. Aerisif kept her eye on that lone peak, her only guide in the darkness. The thunder of Shadowmere’s hooves reverberated in Aerisif’s chest, matching the rhythm of her racing heart. It seemed she had only just left Riften when they pulled up to the stoic base of the mountain. She jumped off Shadowmere’s back as the horse slowed to a walk, landing silently on the soft grass. Aerisif concentrated hard, and a moment later a small orb of light popped out of her hand and floated above her head.

Approaching the wall in the eerie bluish light of her spell, Aerisif squinted at the rocky face. For a moment she regretted coming in the dark of night now, struggling to find the rune that would point to this cave. Was she even in the right place? Her eyes scrutinized the stone, searching for anything that might seem unnatural in the rock. Suddenly her gaze caught a trace of pigment smeared on the rock. On closer inspection, Aerisif made out an arrow shape. The light floating overhead wore off, and Aerisif traced her fingertips along the rock as she tread westward, as Brynjolf had told her.

She found the slim opening of the cave a few paces later. Aerisif froze, straining her ears to hear any sign of life inside. Nothing.

Aerisif rubbed the soft fuzz on Shadowmere’s nose. “You won’t fit inside, girl,” The horse snorted indignantly. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them flee. Can you take care of them for me?” Shadowmere tossed her head and pawed at the ground.

The stones of the mountain were cold and dewey as Aerisif scrambled up the rocky face of the mount. Boulders were easy enough to manage, but some of the steeper crags were more daunting to scale. The ground flattened out and Aerisif scanned the dirt for any sign of the hole Brynjolf had mention.

She was seething all the while. How could Brynjolf have let this happen? This was a bad situation, every way she looked at it. Now it was up to her to clean up the mess.

This could have been the undoing of the Guild—

Aerisif’s foot caught the hole in the rock and her body slammed into the stone. Aerisif dared not breathe, dared not blink, as she listened to the gravel clink and clatter down into the cavern below. Only when her body screamed for breath, and she had heard no sound of disruption from below, did Aerisif lift herself up from the ground and breathe.

I’ve got to keep my head.

The hole was only slightly wider than she was— Aerisif was glad she did not choose her ebony armor, there was no way it would fit— and the opening peered down into a dark cave. She grabbed a small rock and tossed it down the hole, straining her ears to hear how long it took to hit the floor of the cave. The following clink came only second later. Not a far drop at all.

Aerisif supported herself with her arms and slowly let her legs slide through the crevice into the cave. Trying her hardest to stay relaxed, she released her grip on the stone and dropped into the cave, and immediately rolled out of the lone stream of moonlight.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark cave, Aerisif looked around and found her bearings. She began to make out small openings in the slate that seemed to be smaller channels and rooms off the main cave.

“Las, Yah, Nir,” the whisper slid from Aerisif’s lips. Shimmering red auras became visible in the darkness. Two in the room to her left, three over by the main entrance, two more in a small room to the right, sleeping probably, and one just a few paces away from her. She was lucky her drop into the cave didn’t alert that one.

Sensing that she would be well shrouded, Aerisif drew the dagger from her belt rather than the sword from her back. She crept toward the unaware Thalmor, her footsteps silent.

The Thalmor had not the time to blink before Aerisif’s dagger carved a river of blood across his exposed throat. Aerisif caught the body before the golden armor could clang to the stone and raise the alarm. She slid the body into further shadows and quickly rummaged it for what she could: a couple septims, a healing potion, a garnet she could sell later.

Aerisif turned her attention to the rooms still containing Thalmor. The sleeping pair would be easy kills, and she crept in that direction.

The first was easy: Aerisif slit his throat, the elf never to awake again. As she made the kill, the second stirred. As the mage rose from the bed and cast a ward, Aerisif quickly jammed her dagger into her enemy’s throat.

The dragon within her was alive, circling and spitting fire.

The sound of that skirmish drew the attention of the other two Thalmor on this side of the cave. Aerisif adjusted her stance, drew her sinister greatsword, and waited for them to come, flexing her grip on the blade.

“You never should have come here!” The first one shouted. He wore a golden shield on one arm, matched by a gleaming short sword in the other. Aerisif lunged toward him. He raised his sword to block, but Aerisif’s strength sent him staggering back. A shift in her weight, a quick turn, and Aerisif was ready to strike the second, who had flanked her. He approached with his shield raised, and Aerisif’s blow glanced off it, but knocked his helm off in the process. She pivoted, and faced both Thalmor.

Aerisif bought herself time by taking a few paces backward, gathering her strength while pulling the behemoth blade back. The pair crept closer, unaware of the force swelling in their foe.

The Bloodskal Blade swiped parallel to the floor, slicing both Thalmors’ armor open and releasing the sinister, red energy it was feared for. The flash of red sunk into the weakened elves, knocking them to the ground. Aerisif swung once more, finishing them both off.

Kill. Blood. Blood! The dragon screamed.

Aerisif charged into the main cave, releasing a battle cry from her maw. The remaining three Thalmor were already alert to her presence and approaching. Her yell made them stop for a moment, and the pair in gleaming elven armor sent apprehensive looks to the mage.

“Kill her!” his order brought their nerve back to them. Aerisif rolled and dodged a bolt of lightning, lunged again to miss a second. The armored pair had reached her now. Ducking, Aerisif’s cloaked figure fell from their sight for a moment. The Thalmors’ swords swung over her head and met each other, causing an eruption of vulgarities from each. Aerisif swung at their feet, feeling the metals grind and scrape. She rolled back again, trying to give herself room to swing.

Then she heard the sound she dreaded most. That otherworldly hum of a monster being summoned from Oblivion. A pit of purple and jet opened to her left, and Aerisif clenched her jaw, waiting to see what would emerge.

A frost atronach lumbered out, swinging its icy club.

Fuck, thought Aerisif, as she blocked swings from the armored Thalmor.

Now trying to dodge blows from the Thalmor swordsmen, swings from the icy giant, and blasts of lightning from the mage, Aerisif hardly had time to strike. While wearing her Nightingale armor allowed her to move swiftly and easily, it did not provide as much protection as her heavy armor did. She wondered if she had made the wrong choice.

Her feet were nimble though, and her small frame had often proved to be an advantage in battle. She out maneuvered the Thalmors’ advance and was able to leap away to where she could swing her woeful blade once more. The powerful strike sliced with magical force, rendering one Thalmor to his knees. Her next strike took off his head.

Her dragon snapped its jaws hungrily for more.

As she charged toward the next golden target, she was struck by an icy blast, chilling her to her bones.

No, no, no! Aerisif hated these atronachs the most. She struggled to move her legs, each crusted in ice and numb from the deep freeze. Panic began to choke her. The Thalmor was running toward her, blade raised. Aerisif could not move, and the magic of her blade relied on the strength that was sapped from her.

“Fus Roh Dah!” She shouted. Maybe simplistic, but it was the first shout that came to her mind. The remaining Thalmor was thrown against the far wall, his head taking the brunt of the force. The frost atronach stumbled back a few paces.

Aerisif began to feel some of her strength return, her legs able to move again. She rolled just in time to miss the atronach’s shimmering fist smash the space she had just occupied. She took the chance to strike, swinging wildly at the beast while it worked to pull its massive appendage back from the ground.

Backing away when it had recovered, Aerisif felt the blinding pain of lightning surging through her nerves. She grit her teeth and squinted, trying to ignore the blast, as the armored Thalmor charged toward her again. He ran with a strength he should not after his impact with the wall.

Damn mage healed him, Aerisif realized.

Baring her teeth, Aerisif raised her weapon and met the Thalmor in combat. She swung fiercely, her blade tracing wide arcs in blood red slashes. The elf could not match her strength, or the magnitude of the blade she carried. His golden shell cracked and crumpled, his body fell to the ground.

An icy fist knocked Aerisif off her feet. The cold numbness returned to her legs as she struggled to get up. The glacial beast lumbered toward her.

“Yol Toor Shul!” The inferno ripped from her throat, roasting the atronach. The heat from her flames brought some life back into her legs, and Aerisif rose, lifted her sword, and drove the blade down into the atronach. It shattered and returned to whatever icy void it came from.

Now there’s just that damned mage.

Aerisif had no more thought the words when she was struck by an energy she had not felt before. She had done battle with mages more than she’d like to recount. She was familiar with the jolt of lightning based spells, the searing pain of flame spells, and the icy burn of frost spells. Aerisif knew those pains all too well.

But this, this was something different altogether. Aerisif could not move. She was paralyzed, magically. Agony wrenched her body, and every inch of her wanted to scream and twist from the torment. There was no release from this pain.

A low chuckle echoed on the walls of the cave. The Thalmor mage approached her.

“Well well, what do we have here?” He circled her immobile body like a predator toys with its prey.

Aerisif felt her strength sap.

“Nightingale armor, hmm? I’ve caught another little bird. This one even more vulnerable and fragile than the last, it seems.”

Unable to speak from the mage’s spell, Aerisif glared at the elf. Her vision was getting blurry, she was growing weaker, but she shot as much venom as she could through her stare. Her bones screamed from the pressure exerted on them.

“You have cost me men, little bird,” the elf sneered. “You’ll need to be punished for that.”

This spell was tapping her life force. Aerisif knew she would expire from this twisted, new magic. Spots clouded her vision. She was fading.

He smiled. “But perhaps you can be of use to me, like that other pathetic soul. Or maybe I’ll make him watch, while I—“

An arrow protruded from the mage’s chest. He looked at the arrow in outrage and spun around. His eyes widened in shock when he saw what approached.

Two shadows emerged from the mouth of the cave. Karliah stood, bow drawn tight with a second arrow. Brynjolf bore down from the darkness, ebony sword in hand.

The red headed rogue thief drove his sword through the mage’s chest. Aerisif felt her body release, the spell breaking as its caster perished, but the searing pain lingered.

“You won’t ever touch another one of us again, you fucking coward, Veladar.” Brynjolf hissed through gritted teeth, twisting the sword in the languishing elf. He violently pulled the sword out, letting it and the dead Thalmor mage fall to the ground.

Brynjolf scooped up Aerisif’s limp frame. “What the hell were you thinking, lass! Gods, Aerisif, stay with me. Stay with me lass!”

Aerisif attempted a weak smile. She tried to speak, but only an airy whisper came out.

“Shh, lass, don’t speak. Save your strength. Let’s get you out of here.” He lifted her body easily. Aerisif’s face wrinkled with a silent scream at the pain, before her consciousness lost to the agony wracking her body.

***

Pain. Throbbing, swirling pain engulfed Aerisif entirely. She felt a humming throughout her body, the source unidentifiable.

In her deep sleep, Aerisif floated in and out of visions.

Aerisif was practicing swinging a greatsword, toiling in the Whiterun heat. Fear banged in her chest, screaming that she would never get the hang of it. Her next encounter with a dragon would be her last. She would be known as the weakest Dragonborn to ever exist on Nirn, she would be a joke to the gods.

The humming was growing louder.

She was in the heat of battle, a wild battle cry ripping from her maw. She could move quickly now, the weight of the steel was nothing to her. Her blade was soaring up, and crashing down, unrelenting. There was no stopping, Aerisif didn’t see until her blade met worn armor. A dark haired woman lay crumpled in Aerisif’s arms, a pledge of loyalty whispered on her last breath. Aerisif sobbed over the dead woman’s body.

Aerisif was a dragon. She floated in and out of the clouds, stretching her wings as wide as they could reach. The cold air was nothing to dragonscale. The night cloaked her ebony body.

Were these her memories? There was no telling anymore. The humming was persistent and constant.

She was at High Hrothgar, panting and sweating, learning to shout. She was in Sovngarde, taking a last longing look at Shor’s Hall before being returned to Mundus. Slamming down the damp Bill of Sale for Goldenglow on a rickety table in the Flagon, and seeing the bewilderment and pride in Brynjolf’s eyes. Waking up to find Astrid’s slender frame draped so casually on the shelf in that shack. The strange peace that drifted from Titus Mede’s face, eyes closed, sighing his last breath, accepting. Dungeon and Dwemer ruin alike scrolled past her vision like an endless dream, treasure spilling out of every variety of vessel.

Her parents’ farm was a dot on the landscape. Her mother and father were there, pointing and trembling. She tried to land, but found she had no control of this dragon’s body. She was trapped, a prisoner within it. The troubles of men were nothing to a dragon.

Aerisif, the hum became a voice.

A raven haired child sprinted down the mountainside toward the smoke. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest.

Aerisif, the voice beckoned again.

A silhouette of a dragon appeared in her vision. It was featureless, but Aerisif felt this was the dragon that lived in her. The dragon that was her.

Wake up, my child. Rise from sleep.

The raven haired girl was frightened, but stepped forward.

You cannot rest now, the gravelly voice said. You are not done here. We have more to do.

A broken woman in rags with matted midnight locks and empty steely eyes was crouched behind a rock outside of Helgen, afraid of anything in the skies. “No,” she shook her head and shouted. “NO!” tears were streaming down her face.

The silhouette of the dragon coiled. Yes, my daughter. There is much more for you here.

The woman in rags sobbed. “Just let me die,” she begged. “Let me die in peace.”

The dragon loomed larger. It drifted slowly from black as night to glowing the warm gold of dawn. Each scale, claw, and spike became clearly defined in the light the dragon radiated. As the dragon lit up, Aerisif felt her body warm. It was like watching the sunrise.

No, my child. The dragon boomed, but the voice was not threatening. You have chased death down every road for too long. You have barely yet to live. I did not give you this gift to have you waste it.

The ragged woman sneered. “Give me this gift? You mean this curse! I am cursed to live alone.”

The dragon that glowed of dawn pondered. Ah, but are you truly alone? Have you not met worthy companions, faithful followers? You have rebuked them.

“To protect them! I must protect the weak. That is my duty, the curse of this gift.”

And have you? Protected them? The voice seemed to purr.

A warrior in ebony armor bowed her head, defeated. “Not as I should have,” she admitted. “But gods, I tried!”

The dragon considered a moment. This is so. But, perhaps you are right, my daughter. Perhaps you need a greater ally, a stronger companion. An equal. The last words were dipped in honey.

A suspicious young woman cloaked midnight leather eyed the golden dragon calculatingly. “Who are you?” She demanded indignantly.

The dragon spread its magnificent wings, and showered golden light through the flecked membranes. You know who I am, the voice was low and comforting.

Silver eyes grew wide with understanding. The warrior fell to her knees, offering up her greatsword. “I am honored, Akatosh.”

Go now. There is much to do.

“What more could I do? I saved Tamriel! I saved all of Nirn! I have done all you asked!”

Darkness returned to the golden dragon. Black crept like spilled ink on parchment over the once glimmering hide, like blood seeping from a wound. Soon the dragon had returned to its sinister obsidian, no more than a silhouette.

There are more trials ahead, my daughter. I will send you an equal.

“Aerisif,” a new, gentle voice broke the silence. Was it silence, or was it just the absence of Akatosh?

She turned her head. A short woman with black hair stood before her.

“Mother?”

The woman nodded.

The raven haired child ran into her mother’s arms and was swept into a hug. “Aerisif,” she cooed. She held the embrace a moment longer before pulling away and holding her child at arms length. Her face turned grave.

“You cannot trust them, daughter.”

The child’s face scrunched up with confusion. “Who?”

“They say they want to protect you. To help you. It’s a lie! They. Are. Liars. Do you hear me, Aerisif? Do you understand?”

“Mother!” But the woman was already beginning to fade.

“Promise me, Aerisif! Promise me!” The woman was all but a vapor now.

***

Aerisif awoke with a start, panting. The room around her dark and shadowy. She looked around in a panic, hardly able to make out shapes.

“Aerisif!” A voice called from the darkness.

“Brynjolf? Bryn, is that you?” She started to push herself from the bed.

“No, Aerisif, don’t move!”

It was too late. Aerisif took one step and crumpled to the floor.

***

When Aerisif woke for the second time, her first sensations were soft and warm. She felt sunlight on her face. There was a light fragrance in the air. Was that…juniper? The smell transported her back to the mountains of the Reach. Springtimes spent exploring the mountains and wandering through forests came floating back to her.

The light filtered through her eyelids seemed to have a warm hue. Was it…pink? Aerisif cracked her eyes open.

She was back in the room at Riftweald, tucked into the bed, now with finer sheets and blankets than it had seen before.

The shimmering pink light came from the window. All the stones of Barenziah that she had found were laid out in the sun. They reflected and refracted the light into a million glimmering facets across the room. Aerisif felt a pang of panic that they were all laid out there, in the open for anyone to take, until she saw Brynjolf sat slumped in a chair by the window, asleep.

Aerisif continued to scan the room. Bouquets of nightshade were gathered around the bed. In the corner, some juniper sprigs smoldered, sending incensed tendrils into the air. She noticed that her armor had been removed and she had been clothed in a fine, soft robe made of red cloth. Her armor sat neatly by the table, cleaned and oiled, and the Bloodskal Blade leaned against the wall, polished and gleaming.

They thought I was going to die.

“Bryn,” She called softly.

He bolted upright. “Aer!” Brynjolf nearly jumped to the bed.

“Bryn,” Aerisif tried to move.

“Stay still, lass. Don’t move.” Brynjolf’s green eyes gazed down at her, full of concern.

“Bryn, what happened?” Aerisif’s voice was thick from sleep.

He sighed and stroked her hair. “You passed out almost right when we found you. If we had been even a minute later, I…” his voice trailed off. “Well, we’re lucky we got there when we did. We brought you back here, and the priest has been tending to you.”

“How long have I been sleeping?”

Brynjolf sucked in his breath. “It’s been four days, lass.”

“FOUR DAYS?”

He nodded.

“Fuck.” Aerisif’s eyes glazed over as she scanned the offerings in the room. “No wonder you all thought I was dying.”

Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean for them to be offerings. I just…I thought that your favorite things would bring you back.”

Aerisif smiled up at him and cupped his face with her hand. Fear broke through her happiness. Her smile broke and sadness tinted her eyes. “What’s wrong with me?”

Brynjolf sighed. “Maramal says he’s never seen this kind of magic before.”

“Am I—Bryn, am I paralyzed??” Panic seeped into her voice.

He shook his head. “No, not permanently. I imagine you have more use of your legs now than you did when you woke up in the night. But regaining your strength will be slow. You won’t be battle or job ready for a few weeks. You have to rest. You HAVE TO, okay, lass?”

Before she could respond, the door opened and Karliah, Delvin, and Vex poured in.

“Guess you’re not quite stupid enough to die, huh?” Vex quipped. Delvin elbowed her in the side, hard, and Vex glared at him.

“How ya feelin’, boss?”

Aerisif raised her chin. “Ready to run some jobs,” she smiled weakly. “Got any work?”

Delvin chuckled and took the chair by the window. Karliah approached.

“Thank Nocturnal you made it. We were so worried about you, you were nearly dead when we found you.”

Aerisif grimaced. “I love hearing about how fragile I am.”

Karliah shrugged her comment off. “I suspect Nocturnal chose you for your spirit. I can’t imagine she’s done with you quite yet. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“Thanks, Karliah. For everything. I would be dead if it hadn’t been for you two.”

“Yeah, let’s talk about that, shall we?” Vex drawled from the corner. “That was a dumb ass move, leaving them behind like that.”

“Vex,” Brynjolf warned.

“What, you’re not mad about this? After all you two have been through, she stalks off in the middle of the night and ALMOST DIES. After promising that she would take you and Karliah.”

Brynjolf crossed his arms and glared, but said nothing.

“I’m sorry.” Aerisif’s apology cut the tension in the room. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it was a bad idea. It’s just. I— I wanted to protect you all.”

A vulnerable Aerisif was not one that any of them were used to seeing, outside of Brynjolf, and even then Aerisif tried to hide it from him too. They all shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, you’re alive, that’s what matters.” Delvin said. “Try to stay that way for a bit longer, yeah?” He was leaning forward.

Aerisif smiled. “That’s the plan.” Wait, Delvin wasn’t just leaning forward. He was leaning ON something.

Her sword.

“Hey, get your paws off my blade.”

Delvin admired it. “Bet this would fetch a fine price. Have to ask Tonilia about it…such a unique thing…”

“Damned right it is. I pulled that from Bloodskal Barrow myself, and paid a fine price in blood and sweat to earn it. From a goddamn Dragon Priest. So fuck off my sword, yeah?” Aerisif’s brows furrowed as she glared at Delvin.

Delvin’s eyes were shifty, shiftier than usual. “Did you say Skal?”

Aerisif’s scowl faded into a knowing smile. “Yeah, I sure did. On Solstheim? Ever been there?”

Delvin shook his head.

“But surely you’ve heard of it. Send any letters to Raven Rock recently?” Her tone was mischievous.

The others in the room exchanged confused glances.

Delvin was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide his head behind his hands, as if he could pretend he wasn’t there.

“No? Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell big brother Glover that you say hello next time I’m there.”

“What?” Brynjolf drew back in surprise.

“You have a brother in Morrowind?” Karliah turned to him.

“You have a brother?!” Vex threw her arms out in rage.

Delvin shot a pained look to Aerisif. “Thanks for that, boss.”

Aerisif grinned devilishly. “Sword, please.” Delvin returned the sword to where it had been leaning up against the wall.

The door opened again, this time bringing Maramal. The priest looked shocked. “Out! Too many of you in here, she needs rest! Get out!”

The room of thieves glared. Maramal looked at each occupant in turn, as the leather clad thieves crossed their arms and stood tall. Maramal gulped and began to cower sightly, not daring to release his gaze from Vex, who was menacingly stepping closer.

Aerisif laughed. “Let him be, guys. Go on, get out. I’ll be out of here soon.”

With that, Delvin, Vex, and Karliah strode from the room. Karliah towered over the Redguard on her way out the door.

“No nonsense, priest. We need her whole.”

Maramal nodded anxiously.

Brynjolf took the seat by the window as Maramal approached Aerisif.

“I’m glad to see you are awake, child of Mara.”

“Yeah yeah, save the praising of the Divines till you’re back in the Temple. How soon can I get out of here?”

Maramal handed her the potion he was holding. “Drink this. I’ve been brewing it specially for your case. While I’ve never seen magic that paralyzes before, this tincture should speed up your recovery. As should this.” He knelt by the bed, raised his hands over her legs, and began to work a healing spell.

Aerisif felt the itch of the spell work on her legs. She longed to wriggle free of the spell, the itch was unbearable. She fidgeted and twisted—

She fidgeted and twisted. She could move her legs.

“Maramal, you miracle worker!”

“It is not I who heals you, I am but the tool of the benevolent Mara—“

“Yes, yes, we know.” Aerisif rolled her eyes. Brynjolf chuckled at her impatience.

Maramal tipped his head, holding back his indignation. “Rest more, child. While the use of your legs has been restored, they are weak. This is strange, dark magic that has done this. If you overwork them, I fear your recovery will be even longer.” He turned and left the room.

Brynjolf moved to sit on the edge of the bed, next to Aerisif. “You’ve never been afraid of learning something new. Think you can handle learning how to relax?”

Aerisif grinned. “Only if you’re going to be here the whole time. Promise to take care of me?” The words reminded her of the dream she’d had. Was it a dream? Her mother’s last call echoed in her head.

Promise me, Aerisif! Promise me! Aerisif could still hear the fear in her mother’s voice.

Brynjolf smiled and stroked her hair. “I promise.” He placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

Promise me, Aerisif.

#skyrim fanfic #OC: aerisif/kjolti #KMDA #tes v #theives guild #f!dragonborn x brynjolf

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