#ulfric stormcloak’s a BITCH

[aadroiit]

ulfric stormcloak be like

racism

[yorkshirereaper]

I’m so normal about him

[livdpear]

hottest Dragonborn that ever lived.

sexiest Guildmaster of the Thieves Guild.

cuntiest Harbinger of the Companions.

cutest Listener of the Dark Brotherhood.

prettiest Imperial who killed Ulfric and his rebellion.

baddest Dawnguard who killed Lord Harkon.

and a better fucking Dragonborn than Miraak.

[whiterunguard]

happy breaking 1k notes to my Magnum Opus

[wispstalk]

the Stormcloaks and money

ulfric stormcloak is savvy, he's probably got a hoard of Cyrodiilic gold to use for certain purposes, but being a RETVRN guy he would push to revert to pre-imperial modes of trade. actual vikings did use bullion currency, so i say windhelm has a mint. and because i love a little touch of irony, it's just like, re-punching the empire's coins that come through the city. with talos imagery. Therefore by 4E 201 there is still a good bit of business being conducted with the Empire's currency, but if you go flashing around coins that have THEIR shit stamped on it instead of OUR shit, you are going to experience previously-unknown levels of stinkeye. despite the fact that the city is reliant on it.

with all this in mind Markarth, and therefore unfettered access to its silver mines, would be a pretty big get for Ulfric. so Jarl Igmund is the biggest obstacle to uprooting the empire's economic control, which is already a bitch of a task. despite the diminished state of the empire, it still enjoys a solid grip on trade. i would also assume the empire put embargoes on stormcloak territories. ulfric has three ports (because winterhold has one in my mind-palace) but they're not as well-positioned for importing and exporting. long, expensive, risky voyages required to reach the nations willing to let his trading ships in. Windhelm's markets would be in dire shape if not for the Khajiit caravans and Dunmer merchants in the grey quarter. so Ulfric knows damn well he cannot achieve his ethnonationalist wet dreams until Markarth is in his hands, and the Empire knows damn well they'd better hold onto it. Markarth is, of course, Ulfric's first demand during the negotiations at High Hrothgar. he could never really be a player until the Dragonborn entered the game. even if he bitches at you for being biased in the negotiations i bet he skips with glee all the way down the 7,000 steps. i'm still thinking through the possible consequences but i imagine the ripple effects would be significant.

[moodcrab]

Fixing Skyrim's Main Quest

Part One, Setting

Obviously it's set in Skyrim, but let's tweak it a bit.

Time

First of all, if there's one thing we can all agree on from Skyrim and Fallout 4 it's that Bethesda doesn't know how long 200 years is.

It's a very long time.

For reference, two hundred years back from the time of writing this Mad King George was king of England, it wasn't even the Victorian Era yet. The American Civil War was decades away from starting. The entire industrial AND technological revolutions as well as BOTH World Wars and the collapse of the British AND Ottoman Empires happened in that time, with plenty of room to spare.

It's a VERY long time!

Placing a two hundred year gap between Oblivion and Skyrim was a bad decision considering how very little actually happened. Tamriel should be drastically different, like they should have cars by now.

The major events that did happen, the Rise of the Medes, the Rise of the Thalmor, The Red Year, The Infernal City, The Void Nights, The Great War and White Gold Concordat could easily happen within one lifetime, so we're going to say the events of Skyrim take place in 4E64.

From a writing point of view, this small change makes it a lot easier to keep track of things that were a bit of a mess in vanilla, like the life of Ulfric, or the backstory of Gaius, Karliah and Mercer, which were all over the place if you were actually paying attention. It also means you can talk to people who actually remember these things happening, who were children during the Oblivion Crisis. You could even change Esbern's name to one of the younger Blades members you meet in Oblivion seeing as Esbern has the role of lore depository.

Religion and Culture

The next setting change is to remember this is Skyrim, not Cyrodiil. The Nords don't worship the Nine/Eight. In fact, the only reason the Nine/Eight exists as a pantheon at all because of the Nords stubbornness around the worship of foreign gods.

The Temple of Kynareth is now The Temple of Kyn, and Gildergleam Sanctuary is the home of Kyn's Holy Order. The College of Winterhold is no longer Hogwarts but the Chantry of Jhunal (a 'college' is a place of study, research and academia, not just a school). You might meet The Vigilant of Stuhn on the road, who don't live in a hut but a temple. Instead of a priest of Arkay in the Halls of the Dead we have priests of Orkey. Tsun, a god we actually meet in vanilla but has no shrines or altars, will replace Zenithar. And, most interesting to our story, a cult of both Alduin and Herma Mora - our two villains - gods to be placated rather than worshipped.

This said, the Imperial Cult will definitely have a strong presence in Skyrim and Talos, being an Ysmir, is particularly venerated (as is Ysgramor and Wulfharth). Yes, over the centuries the Imperial Cult and will obviously have spread into Skyrim, we can lean into this with the Civil War, putting a much bigger emphasis on the more "Imperialised" Holds siding with the Empire and the old school Atmoran Holds siding with the Stormcloaks. It never made much sense to me that the "true Nords" were more upset than the Imperials over the whole Talos situation, this change makes it so that while both sides are pissed off, one reacts with frustrating diplomacy and patience while the over reacts with stubborn honour and impulse, a more cultural divide rather than a pro/anti Talos one.

The Imperial position would be to play along with the Thalmor in the open, but to secretly fund and organise cults to other men-turned-gods and Imperial/Nordic hero gods such as Pelinal, Wulfharth, Ysgramor, Reman, Alessia and Martin, as well as the concept of Ysmir (which would actually include Tiber Septim and The Last Dragonborn). They would not openly support nor allow any arrests or persecutions of these cults by Justiciars. The Stormcloak position will remain "Fuck that bitch this is Skyrim."

Geography

This might sound crazy, but Skyrim was too hot.

No I'm kidding, I'm not so in love with the lore that I think a game of endless snow would be anything but boring. But there are some things that were cut out of the land that left Skyrim wanting. For instance there are hardly any settlements. Amber Guard, Granitehall, Nimalten City, Reich Corigate, Lainalten, Oakwood, Pargran Village, Laintar Dale, Dunpar Wall, Dragon Wood, and North Keep are all Skyrim cities that are missing from the game. Like not even abandoned ruins, they're just not there.

I totally understand there are size limitations but this is meant to be a country. It has five town sized cities and three village sized cities. And some villages. And they mostly look like Riverwood. Seriously, what exactly is the difference between Karthwasten, Falkreath, Shor's Stone, Winterhold and Riverwood, all towns from different Holds? It's like if shopping malls were made of wood.

The other thing about the vanilla settlements I didn't like was Bethesda seems to be stuck in Fallout style post apocalyptic design. Solitude has been there for thousands of years but no one has ever thought to shift these boulders from out of the middle of the street? There are ruins in better shape than Windhelm and Markarth? You can sum it up with Whiterun's Western Watchtower, which looks exactly the same after a dragon destroys it. Surely the ravages of civil war and the dragon crisis would have a bigger impact if things weren't already destroyed.

In fact, let's address the Imperial Fort situation. At the start of the game only 3 forts were occupied by actual soldiers, two of which were destroyed in the early game (Helgan and the Western Watchtower). Literally ALL other forts are in ruins and occupied by bandits or other undesirables. Consider that Skyrim is a country that recently took part in the Great War, but is currently dealing with a Civil War. Forts are not easy to build, and are insanely useful for medieval warfare. It truly beggars belief that practically none of them are maintained and fortified until the Player Character decides to get involved. To strain credulity further, many of the war camps you encounter in the wilds are literally in the shadows of major fortifications that have been left to rot. There is even a side quest to reclaim a Nord's fort from bandits, which is also a ruin. Is the implication that the man lives in a ruin? Or is it that in the short time the bandits have been there they've done a century or two of damage? Why would they do that?

Skyrim has a lot of dungeons, and a lot of quests that are basically "clear dungeon", we can't sacrifice some of this boring content for some more towns or forts, with characters, and things to do?

[thequeenofthewinter]

Ulfric Stormcloak, one dramatic bitch. <3

[smalllonelyegg]

me: i wonder what the elder scrolls Fandom is up to :)

The elder scrolls fandom:

me: I'm beginning to think these aren't good fandoms...

me: I wonder what the fallout fandom is up to :)

the fallout fandom: FREESIDE IS FULL OF WORTHLESS BUMS WHO DESERVE TO GET SHOT IF THEY TRY TO LEAVE! IF THEY WANT A BETTER LIFE THEY SHOULD JUST GET A JOB

me: that’s enough of the fallout fandom :)

[matri4rch]

Miralkron/Atmora concept bc I can't decide which of the 20~ versions would go well w Ulfric. + I just wanted to draw more women hehehe

Concept: Ulfric likes giant feral witches.

Based on:

Ahhh get your f*cking dog bitch

It don't bite

Yes it do

Created at 3 in the morning and expanded into a feral witch with @omnitrash , this 6'5 beast was a dragon priestess and the second unnamed wife of Ysgramor, known only by a few Windhelm historians as the Death Jarl or the Daughter of Dragons.

Babygirl was brought back to life by imperial aligned necromancers and used as a weapon to capture Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.

After a minor disagreement that ended up with Tullius gaining a new horrible face scar and Atmora in multiple chains and a muzzle, she decides that Ulfric and his Stormcloaks might have a better living situation.

[the-drunken-huntsman]

Hello my beloved friend :3 u should answer all the Skyrim asks for an OC of your choice :3

Stars thank you for this because as soon as I started answering it my flight got ungrounded lmao I was supposed to be home 7hrs ago

Ivarstead - How do you feel about the Greybeards and Paarthurnax?

I like Paarthurnax, I get what they were trying to do with his whole "redeemed warlord" character even though it isn't really written very well. The whole game isn't written well and the way I fill in the gaps makes me think he's pretty chill. He reminds me of the Air Nomads from atla :) the Greybeards are pretty cool. I mostly like Arngeir because he's voiced by Christopher Plumber and also because of his Lorax line hehe

Solitude - Who's your favorite Jarl? Who's your least favorite? Why these?

Idgrod Ravencrone, duh. She's the goat. Elisif is a very close second because I am very gay.

Riften - What's your favorite guild? How do you feel about their questline?

I'll be honest, I don't really like any of the guilds. The dbh is long and tedious. The thieves guild takes all the fun out of it by almost all of it just being stealing from the poor to benefit the rich. The College is so poorly written it's not even funny anymore. The Civil War is stupid on its own but it's not helped by the fact that the questline is the most buggy shit I've experienced in this whole game. The Companions are racist af and don't even have the guts to just say it point blank like the stormcloaks. The Bards College is a fucking scam. However, despite all of this, I do still have fun playing most of these questlines. If I had to pick a favorite it would be the Dawnguard because even though it's the longest of all of these, I have the most fun playing it and it's the most well written. Sorry this turned into a wall of text of me just bitching lol

Throat of the World - How do you feel about "Season Unending"?

I don't hate it as much as other people seem to but because I love just siding with tullius for everything and pissing ulfric off lmao

Skuldafn - How do you feel about dragon priests?

┐(ﾟ～ﾟ)┌ I don't get the hype for them

Sovngarde - How would your Last Dragonborn celebrate after the battle with Alduin, or would they celebrate at all?

Ooh boy, Aneis has to be literally carried down off the Throat of the World by Teldryn and Murza, the battle did such a number on her. They rent out the Vilymir Inn for a week and she just sleeps the entire time, Tel, Murza, and Endurys taking turns watching over her. When she finally wakes up she has a bit of a breakdown over fulfilling the prophecy and having achieved her destiny and not knowing what to do now. But she finally decides on pursuing her one dream she thought she could never fulfill, settling down and starting a family. So team dragonborn goes off and builds Lakeview Manor :)

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Isadora: *An Imperial princess, granddaughter of Emperor Titus Mede II, sitting atop a cream horse in Helgen* ... Remind me why we have to watch this execution. It's so.. depressing.

Ramarra: *A High Elven knight, sworn to guard Isadora, seated next to her on a large Clydesdale* Because, princess, your grandfather allowed you to come here on the condition you would carry out his duties here.

Isadora: *sighs* Because he has no time for them himself. He won't even visit for his cousin's wedding.

Ramarra: I must remind you that this is better than the alternative.

Isadora: Ugh. Please don't remind me. I think at this point I would actually rather die than marry that scoundrel.

Ramarra: Point proven. Instead of you dying, you get to watch other people die in order to keep your freedom. Be glad for this opportunity.

Isadora: *watches as Lokir breaks away from the prisoners in an attempt to escape, getting shot in the back and falling to the ground* ... I'm practically ecstatic.

Ramarra: Sarcasm is not a good look on you, my lady.

Isadora: Be glad it's not my only look.

Ramarra: For that, indeed, I am elated.

Isadora: Would it kill you to ever smile to prove it?

Ramarra: It is in poor taste to smile during an execution, princess... Something Lady Elenwen clearly has not taken note of.

Isadora: Hmph. Stuck up bitch.

Ramarra: Language, my lady.

Isadora: She didn't even come to greet me when we crossed the border to Cyrodiil, and I don't think she knows we're even here. *stops, blinking in surprise* Did you just tell me to watch my language?

Ramarra: We are in the company of several Imperial generals and captains. By all means, this is a formal affair.

Isadora: *huffs, watching a captain shove a Stormcloak Soldier's head onto the chopping block* Oh yes, so formal. I love watching people be brutally murdered for the crime of defending their country.

Ramarra: Mm. Half of these people don't even know what they're really fighting for.

Isadora: That's even worse, isn't it?

*a faint roar sounds in the distance, echoing through the town square*

Ramarra: ... That sound again. *looks around, unsettled by how easily the townspeople brush it off. She raises a hand and places it on her sword hilt readily*

Isadora: What do you think it is? Doesn't sound like a regular animal.

Ramarra: I'm not too sure. *her eyes flick towards the sky instinctively* ... It isn't anything good, though. Keep on guard.

Isadora: I thought that was your job.

Ramarra: I can hardly hold your hand through every tragedy, princess.

Isadora: Hmph. And why couldn't the Penitus Oculatus accompany us? They are supposed to safeguard the royal family.

Ramarra: They are supposed to safeguard the Emperor. They could care less about you.

Isadora: Rude. *Frowns, watching as the captain escorts Ulfric to the block* That's him, huh?

Ramarra: Yes. Ulfric Stormcloak. The cause of all this. *glances at Isadora* You can thank him for such a depressing event.

Isadora: What was his motive for killing the High King, again?

Ramarra: He claims the White-Gold Concordat was unfair. I think it was a power claim.

Isadora: Hardly anything in politics is 'fair'. Just goes to show how much he actually knows.

Ramarra: Yes, well.. this is another valuable lesson for you, if you are to overtake your grandfather one day.

Isadora: Bitches get stitches?

Ramarra: Arrogant power-hungry bastards get beheaded, more like.

Isadora: Now look who has language.

Ramarra: I am not a princess.

Isadora: You would be if you'd agreed to marry me so I could avoid engagement.

Ramarra: I think I would rather die, thank you.

Isadora: Honestly you are such a-

Ramarra: Wait. *watches as the headsman raises its axe, about to behead Ulfric. A large black creature flies out from behind the mountain, swooping among the clouds before landing on the watchtower* Oh no.

Isadora: Ramarra?? What is that thing?

Stormcloak Soldier: Dragon!

Ramarra: Shit. Isadora-!

Dragon: YOL- *balls of fire rain from the sky at the dragon's cry, knocking the headsman off his feet and startling the Imperial soliders*

Isadora: AH! *her horse rears, knocking her to the ground and bolting off*

Ramarra: Isadora! *her horse stays calm, whinnying nervously at the sight of the winged lizard. She dismounts*

Isadora: Oh no, oh gods- *the dragon lands in front of her, smoke billowing from its maw dangerously* Ra-Ramarra-

Ramarra: Leave her alone! *draws her sword and swings at the dragon, ripping a gash in its wing*

Dragon: *roars, turning and snapping at Ramarra before taking flight to avoid her sword, dipping and flying erratically with its now injured wing*

Ramarra: Gods. *turns and starts walking towards the princess* Get up. We need to get out of here.

Ulfric: Not so fast. *grabs Isadora, his binds and gag gone, holding the headsman's axe to her throat* You take another step and your little princess will meet the same fate my brothers did.

Isadora: N-No, wait please!

Ramarra: You bastard- *points her sword at the Nord* Unhand her!

Ulfric: I don't think I will. *scoops up Isadora and tosses her over his shoulder, turning and running through and opening in the wall followed by several Stormcloak Soldiers*

Isadora: RAMARRA!

Ramarra: No! *tries to follow but is blocked by the wall collapsing* Dammit! Where's another way out??

Hadvar: Hey, High Elf! That dragon's burning this whole place down, we need to get to the keep!

Ramarra: Don't you fucking- *the dragon swoops down, missing her and instead making a grab for an Imperial Soldier nearby, hauling him into the air with a scream* ... Do not order me around, Imperial. I need to look for my princess.

Hadvar: As far as you know, Ulfric killed your princess the second he left Helgen! We need to either find a way out or wait out the hellfire until the dragon leaves, and then you can go on a manhunt for him.

Ramarra: ... Fine. Get inside the keep, then.

[galadrieljones]

Royal! Twilight! Rocking chair!!

Thank you for the prompt ❤️ The thing I felt most like writing about for this prompt was my Skyrim oc, Osk Frostborn. This is a ship I have not written before but have wanted to write for a long time.

Skyrim | Dragonborn x Ulfric Stormcloak | Mature

Winter in the Marrow: I

Have you ever opened up a book and seen words, but not known what to do with them?

Osk sat in a hard wooden chair, staring past the fire in the Nightgate Inn. Outside, the snow had been like spikes, in her eyes and in her hair. 

The bard here was loquacious.

"Those is heavy weapons," said the bard with her hands folded around her lute. "Ebony weapons? You must be rich then."

"I'm a good smith," said Osk. 

"Well, it's your hair then. Your hair gives you away." The bard had a slight lisp. She had an accent straight from the lowlands of the Rift. She wore bright red make-up on her cheeks, a rouge made from snowberries, which felt on trend to Osk, considering what she’d seen the women wearing in Solitude in those days. She had round hips, but she couldn't have been much older. Maybe in her late twenties. "Plus you had to learn smithing somewhere," the bard went on. "From someone, right? Ebony. That's expensive juice."

"What are you talking about?" said Osk.

"I mean, your hair," said the bard. She sat down in the rocking chair beside the fire, right next to Osk. "It's long and very blond. Like, white. Looks like you were born from fear."

Osk laughed at this. "That's an old wive's tale."

"Well, maybe," said the Bard. Her hair was very red. "But you were born in the Pale, weren't you?"

Osk did not answer.

"Maybe Winterhold, I suppose. Nords up in Winterhold look nigh on as elves, I'd say. They're so old in the marrow. Lots of them come ‘round here. They farm winter crops, or they're mages. But you are not a mage I reckon. I've never seen you before."

Osk took a drink from her flagon. It was punishing and strong. Some sort of mulled wine. Or maybe not. She'd already forgotten what the innkeeper had offered. "I haven't lived in Skyrim since I was a baby."

"Where'd you go?"

"Somewhere else."

"I'm just trying to make conversation."

"A lot of bards have said the same exact thing, but they don't work for themselves."

"You aren't being too kind," said the bard. She seemed sad now. She looked down at her freckled hands. "I ain't no spy. I know the bad rap we got, us bards. But I ain't no spy. I swear. I'm from Falkreath. Helgen."

"Helgen?" said Osk. She had been wrong, and she felt bad. "Do you know what happened to your town?"

The bard nodded sadly, looking down at her lute. "Mother sent home about it. She's in a bad way now, I believe. Moved to Whiterun where she lives in the inn."

"I'm sorry," said Osk. "I really am." She wasn’t trying to be a bitch. She took a deep breath instead. "I don't tell people where I'm from, okay? It's not personal. It's just like...operational security."

"What's operational security?" said the bard. "Never learned nothing like that from Talos."

"It just means, I don't know you, so no matter what you say, I can't trust you. No offense."

"Guess you must be important then, eh?" This seemed to perk her up immediately. "You like, royalty?"

Osk had come across girls like her before. Rural kinds. They took on the very disposition of their crop. Hers would have been radishes. She seemed nice.

"Not really," said Osk.

"You ain't here with the Imperial Legion, are you?"

"No," said Osk. The bard recoiled. Perhaps she'd said it more forcefully than she meant. "Sorry. Just, no."

"You a Stormcloak then?"

Osk didn't answer.

"I said, are you a Stormcloak then?" said the bard, louder. She seemed to think that Osk couldn't hear properly. She glanced around, like it was a secret. But there weren't too many others at the inn that night. Some old man orc, down in the cellar. Liked her music. The innkeeper himself had dozed off behind the counter, and there were just a handful of off-duty guards from Dawnstar, piss drunk, trading bad jokes on the other side of the room. "If you are a Stormcloak," the bard continued, "that would make sense, being in the Pale and all, so close to Eastmarch. You look real tired, ma'am. You look real beat."

They both heard a loud noise then and looked toward the door. A big man had entered, bringing with him the cold, purple bite of the twilight air. Everybody got quiet, including the drunken guards. One of them dropped his flagon, and it spilled all over the floor.

The man in the doorway shook the snow out of his enormous, expensive furs. It was Ulfric Stormcloak. He wore a heavy fur cap, the face carved right off a bear.

"By Talos," said the Bard.

Osk looked away and closed her eyes against the heat from the fire. She was embarrassed. She squeezed her hands tightly into fists as a habit. She took off her heavy leather gloves, which she had not even realized she was still wearing, until now. She didn't know what to do, or how he'd managed to track her. She had been very careful.

"Osk," he said. The relief, how he regarded her. It was confusing, like the loud clanking of his chainmail against the quiet crackling of the fire. "Osk. Thank Talos."

The whole room was staring at her, including the bard. She looked at Osk with huge eyes. She’d guessed royalty. She could not have guessed this. In any case, she got up right away to ask him if he needed something, what he would like to drink. He ordered a mead and one whole apple pie with a kindly voice that Osk had rarely heard him use with his own servants, in his Palace of the Kings. 

He came and sat in the rocking chair where the sweet bard and her radish disposition had been sitting just moments before. It was strange to consider him in a rocking chair. Seemed a place for a grandmother, or a curious bard. And yet, he came to possess it. He leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees. He said it again, more forcefully now: "Osk."

It was almost pathetic, she thought. The way he spoke to her. So she looked at him. His pale hair was matted down where his hat had been. He had the saddest eyes of any man she'd ever met, frozen solid with grief. "Hello, Ulfric," she said. "How did you find me?"

"Your horse is very recognizable," said Ulfric. "Bred by the Black-Briars. You should sully her coat if you'd like to remain hidden, Osk. Especially in the Pale."

"How do you know the Black-Briars?"

He smiled.

Osk finished her mead. It made her feel dizzy. His smell and presence were all-encompassing, and they filled up the whole room, all around her. He had this habit in the mornings, of dabbing his wrists with this kind of apple essence, made for him by an alchemist in Solstheim. It smelled of bark, and tart juices. Apples were a relic from her childhood, where she had lived, hidden with her mother on a botanical berry farm near the Gold Coast of eastern Cyrodill. He liked apples. It was one of the first things they'd shared. 

"You shouldn't be seen in the Pale," she said.

"Neither should you."

"Why are you here?"

"You said not to follow," said Ulfric, removing his gloves, as he intended to stay a while. The bard stood by with his mead and his apple pie, set it down on the table between them. Ulfric thanked her and picked up his fork and knife.

"So why didn't you listen?" said Osk.

"I never listen," he said, tucking in. “I assumed you’d know this by now, Dragonborn.”

(to be continued)

Send a prompt! - Ask Box

[morihaus]

man i feel like people are more likely to be grossly misogynistic and say vile things to delphine before elenwen. i feel like the only person who's ever said anything about elenwen in general good or bad is ulfric "character in the game" stormcloak who uses the M rating to call her a bitch. what is worse being an agent of a fantastical supremacist group or saying you should kill a dragon

[offense-is-the-best-defence]

There should be I skyrim mod where you can stick up 'Ulfric Stormcloak is a thalmor bitch' posters

[ladyofsnark]

So I got around to restarting Skyrim for the first time in a few years and I’ve finally nailed down what it is that bothers me about the narrative:

It’s too broad.

I’m not talking about how the Dragonborn basically becomes a living God who rules all of Skyrim, because that’s pretty par for the course in a Bethesda game.

I mean more in an interactive fiction, choose your own adventure way.

Skyrim’s pretty famous for being able to just do whatever, to the point that you can actually avoid the main plot entirely. If you skip the first couple quests in the main story arc, you don’t become the Dragonborn and you can play a “no dragon” play through where it’s just you fucking up Skyrim as a regular bitch.

And that’s fun. That’s great.

But since all of the NPCs have voiced lines, things have to be kept EXTREMELY generic. If you are playing a proper play through and you join any one of the guilds (or all of them if you want), they never recognize you as the Dragonborn. Even in the half-second you can tell someone from the Mage’s guild “I’m the Dragonborn” in a post-main quest play through, that’s it. That’s the extent of it. Even when you’d think that the mages would literally be the most eager to accept you and study what you can do. That’s the only acknowledgement.

The Companions treat you like a whipping boy (for all of five seconds until they decide you’re their new chieftain), Brynjolf just “has a feeling” you’re special, the Psyjics during the College’s story line don’t even say shit about it and they literally know the future. And it’s literally not like it’s a secret that you’re Dragonborn. Random NPCs comment on it, you can kill dragons right in the middle of major settlements and have twenty witnesses to you consuming its soul, leaving just a dried husk of bones in the middle of the main thoroughfare--

But none of the branching quests acknowledge this. You have to prove yourself to them, even though the rest of Skyrim is tripping over themselves about your very existence. This is especially wonky in quests for, say, the Thieves Guild. Where you being the Dragonborn would probably make you an immediate threat to Mercer Frey--or the Guild in general-- and they’d want to avoid you. Because while they don’t operate in secret, you’d think some level of anonymity would be welcomed and you become a household name in the first 5 seconds of the game.

And narratively that’s a MASSIVE disconnect all for the sake of “Choosing your own story”. It’s literally “freedom” at the cost of a cohesive narrative--the MAIN narrative no less.

Don’t get me started on the Stormcloaks. It’s outright stated that Tullius doesn’t believe in the Dragonborn, so his being blatantly unimpressed with you MAKES SENSE. Ulfric on the other hand is basically obsessed with being a “true Nord” and should logically be doing all he can to court your favor because YOU are literally a figure from Nord mythology come to life. That straight up doesn’t happen.

(Which is fine. If Ulfric respected me it might be just a tiny bit harder to enjoy eventually lopping his dumnb, racist, traitorous ass head off.)

[cogbreath]

also with ulfric something that always rlly bothered me was just the way he presented himself. like okay i KNOW this is the default jarl sitting animation/pose but it really just adds to his demeanor.

the whole time hes talking to you it feels like he just cant really be bothered to make a case for his actions and his goals. the whole time ur hearing from the stormcloaks how hes so great and such a hero and u meet the guy and he talks to you from his little bitch throne the same way ur shitty uncle talks to you from his recliner. he talks to u like hes mansplaining almost. if that makes sense. like the way they act annoyed at having to explain all this to someone like you but will also at the same time drone on and on and on never really givinng anyrhing useful just talking to hear themselves talk.