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maybemanyskeletonhats · 1 year

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The elves being caught staring

Uh oh, someone got caught staring. Wonder why they were? 🤭

They know they're being watched, yet they only hold back a smile. Till they look up and finally ask "are you looking at me?"

Sotha Sil only has a ghost of a smile on his face. He reaches over and links his fingers with theirs. "Yes." He states calmly. Yet there's something under his expression they can't quite read.

Vivec grins shamelessly eyes sweeping over them once more. They're alone, after all. Besides, it's not like being around others would stop him. "I am, actually."

Almalexia only continues watching them. Her gaze is soft as if she's committing every feature to her memory. They're only faintly aware of the way her playfully wiggling her fingers against theirs. How odd.

Mannimarco huffs a small laugh. He playfully shakes his head. His eyes are squinty and he's smiling though. So yes, I think he was staring.

Neloth scoffs and looks away quickly. Ignoring the warm sensation creeping up his neck. Why call him out like that?

Divayth Fyr places his chin on his hand and smiles. He doesn't say a word, but the grin says enough. He was, and he wasn't embarrassed about it.

Teldryn Sero only chuckles and says he was admiring the scenery... nevermind the fact they were indoors and he was looking directly at them.

Indoril Nerevar's face gets dark. He thought he was being subtle. But he supposes stealth has never been his strong suit. He grins shyly and twiddles his fingers against theirs.

Voryn Dagoth jumps and looks away. He hadn't realized he was being that obvious. After a moment he looks back at them, cheeks warm. "I can't help it."

Vanus Galerion's face turns stark red and he vigorously shakes his head. "No! And you can't prove it!" He holds up his index finger and shakes it like he's making some grand speech.

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls morrowind #sotha sil #vivec #eso #almalexia #neloth #divayth fyr #teldryn sero #mannimarco #voryn dagoth #indoril nerevar #vanus galerion

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wellthebardsdead · 7 months

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Clockwork Heart pt28

Part 27 here

———

Vivec: why did you make Wyrm so optimistic?

Sotha Sil: because I spent my life being pessimistic. He’s aware of the truth of our reality, and his endless joy allowed him to smile in the face of it… I want him to remain happy and carefree for as long as he can before the inevitable…

Vivec: …Is that why you made him so small too?…

Sotha Sil: …I made him, as he needs to be. *turns to walk away and freezes seeing Wyrm standing behind him* I-

Wyrm: why do I need to be- *gasps as he’s suddenly pulled out of the vision. The serene purple sky of the clockwork city giving way to the icy black stone of the midden, and the eerie blue glow of the augurs light*

Augur of Dunlain: Wyrm? My friend?

Wyrm: *rubs his eyes as a pounding headache seizes him for a moment before subsiding, his control over his connection to the heart slowly improving* it just keeps repeating the same thing over and over again… right as I ask him why he made me this way I get pushed out, like how he’d push me away from the heart, or out of nightmares. It feels different to when voryn does it… voryn feels like he’s pulling me into a hug, away from something dangerous but… it feels like Seht is, pushing me away somehow. In a direction?…

Augur of Dunlain: Perhaps he is afraid of you finding out the answer?… what could be so terrible about knowing what you were made for?

Wyrm: *groans leaning against the magicka pool* ughhhh I’m supposed to be asking you questions not the other way around! *pouts* but… If he made me as I need to be?… was, was it the malnutrition that kept me small?… or why my lungs are so weak?… or… *feels where his shoulder should be beneath his artificial, metal one* why am I missing my arm… my shoulder and part of my ribs?… or… *reaches up and taps his Pearl eye* why would he make me with only one?…

“Wyrm??? Where are you?”

Wyrm: crap! I’m not supposed to be down here! *jumps up tossing a sugar cookie into the pool* I’ll see you later!!! Thank you! *runs out of the door and up out of the midden*

Augur of Dunlain: …I wish I could tell you the truth… *sighs and engulfs the cookie*

*a few minutes later*

Wyrm: *climbs out of the midden and into the courtyard, dusting himself off of the snow from the trap door as he rushes out and immediately bumps head first into nerevar* oh! I-

Nerevar: there you are, hold still. *pulls a set of armoured robes out from his bag and holds it up to the smaller elf* this should do for now until I can get you to an actual blacksmith. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us and I want you protected.

Wyrm: *being adjusted this way and that by the Hortator as he loosely checks the fit* I- yes thank you- a-are you sure you and voryn want to tag along? Will voryn even be able to travel in-

Voryn: *suddenly crosses the bridge into the courtyard, dressed in dark mage robes, a chitin breastplate covering his chest and fitting nicely with the more ornate adornments of house dagoth, as well as the gigantic bell hammer strapped to his back* My ears are burning~ I believe I got everything we need for the first leg of the trip.

Nerevar: *chuckles* good, Wyrm was just fussing over your outfit options for battle and travel.

Wyrm: *puffs out his cheek a little at being teased* I-I just never thought about how uncomfortable travelling could be until I lived it and voryn doesn’t seem the sort to be dressed like well- this!

Voryn: *smiles and gently pats his hair* I’m a councillor and his confidant first. But I’m his lover and partner in battle as well. I fought along side him during the battle of red mountain, I’ve seen him in action just as much as he has I. I’ll be just fine little scrib.

Nerevar: *nods and grins* it’s a miracle I survived those battles. I was impossible to peel my eyes off of you~

Voryn: you’re lucky my eyes were more focused on keeping you alive then~ and speaking of keeping alive. Is this- really the best you could find?… *gestures to the robes*

Nerevar: We don’t exactly have a wide array of options here my love. Once we get to whiterun we can-

Enthir: no need. *walks over grabbing Wyrm by his arm leading him to the dorms* I got something better, but don’t ask how I got it or where it’s from. Got it?

Wyrm: *known Enthir long enough to just agree* okay.

Nerevar: Woah Woah Woah!!! Hold on a minute! What have you got?! Because the last two items you ‘had for him’ turned out to be two of three extremely dangerous weapons that corrupted him! *points to voryn* turned the people that killed me into gods!

Wyrm: sorry about tha-

Nerevar: shush it’s okay, and I had to use to bring down dagoth ur!

Voryn: sorry about tha-

Nerevar: darling we- HEY COME BACK HERE!

Enthir: *already walking inside with Wyrm in tow* I’m not stopping you from following me.

*a few minutes later*

Enthir: *holding a pair of trousers over the room divider Wyrms changing behind* these ones should fit you you’re around my size.

Wyrm: oh these look like the armour the lady in riften was wearing!

Nerevar: riften?

Enthir: lady?

Wyrm: yeah, she stole my eye and I woke up from a nightmare trying to cut her face off…

Voryn: oh yes I think I recall that one… I kept screaming ‘I’ve been poisoned’… was that when those vampires fed you skooma?

Wyrm: yes… it was horrible.

Enthir: *eyes wide just hearing about this himself for the first time* remind me to write to my contacts so, there’ll be less people out to hurt him or- worse.

Nerevar: I promise. Well do all we can to keep him safe.

Wyrm: *suddenly steps out dressed in thieves guild armour* my hair won’t fit under the hood.

Enthir: that’s okay you don’t need that. You look great just… try to avoid guards while wearing it. It should keep you out of trouble with more unsavoury figures though and help you sneak out of danger if needed.

Nerevar: that- that wouldn’t happen to be thie-

Voryn: *covers his mouth* shhh. You look great Wyrm.

Wyrm: *smiles back at them with a beaming grin*

*a few days later*

Urag: *wrapping Wyrms favourite cloak around him and fussing over his son* I packed your night clothes and spare comfortable clothes for you too and your lunch is in there as well as some snacks and don’t forget the ward scrolls in case-

Enthir: *gently rubs his back* Babe, he’ll be okay. *smiles at Wyrm then past him to the high elf waiting patiently at his side* take care of him for us.

Taliesin: *nods and bows his head* I will. You have my word.

Urag: … *steps forward and places his hand on his shoulder* Come home alive… bring my boy back safe.

Taliesin: I- Y-yes sir. He- we’ll, come home alive. I promise.

Urag: *nods before looking back to Wyrm in time for the small dunmer to leap up into his arms for a hug* stay safe, don’t wander into trouble you can’t get out of, okay?…

Wyrm: *nods* I will papa, I’ll be careful, I promise papa. *hugs him tighter* I’ll be home before you know it.

Urag: *hugs him back and holds him for just a moment more* good luck, son. *lets him go*

Wyrm: *smiles up at him before giving Enthir a hug as well* take care of him please…

Enthir: I will. *smiles hugging him back and letting him go* stay out of trouble.

Wyrm: I will! *takes Taliesins hand and waves back to them as they cross the bridge* I LOVE YOU!!

*a few minutes later*

Taliesin: *picks Wyrm up placing him on his back as they enter the village* gods I can’t wait to get out of this cold.

Wyrm: *gently places his hands over taliesins ears like a pair of ear muffs* I read morthal is humid and warm. I’m sure it’ll be more comfortable for you.

Taliesin: darling you’ve never felt humidity. Believe me it is not comfortable but anything is better than this c-constant assault of frigid air.

Wyrm: *giggles* yeah, it’s not for everyone. *glances at the jarls long house as Mirabelle steps out, dressed in the arch mages robes though still limping from her injuries sustained in the battle against ancano* hopefully things… warm up here in different ways while we’re gone. *looks ahead to see the group waiting by the horses near the inn* I just hope… we live to see it. *shivers as a gust of wind blows from around the inn, sending the tattered robes of a now dead thalmor agent adrift on the wind*

#Wyrm dragonborn #skyrim taliesin #Urag gro shub #enthir skyrim #voryn dagoth #nerevar

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sylvienerevarine · 9 months

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A delightful new tag game from @dirty-bosmer!!! You know I can't resist the urge to share quotes from A Respectable Lady's Guide to Skyrim.

I shall tag: @kookaburra1701, @blossom-adventures, @druidx, and @hannahcbrown

The rules are to share:

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

I have come up with so many terrible, terrible puns. Here's my favorite.

"We’re off to Labyrinthian to find the Staff of Magnus, as per the Synod fellow’s instructions.” “That ought to be pretty hard,” said Sophrine. “I mean, you know what they say.” Olaf sighed, clearly aware a joke was on its way. “What’s that?” “You just can’t get the staff these days.”

A line from your fic that makes you sad

She felt a large, warm hand cup her chin, tilting her face up. Roggi lowered his head to kiss her briefly, almost reverently, for what she knew was the last time. “Hail, Dragonborn,” he said softly.

Sometimes you just have to dump your boyfriend in order to save his life. Maybe.

A line from your fic you're proud of

“I’m a dragon!” Sophrine cried. “You called me a miracle and vowed to serve me, even when you knew all along I have a dragon’s soul!"

Delphine, please get your act together and be cool about dragons for once.

A line from your fic you think could have been better

Any of the ones where I'm trying to get the characters to a second location. Why is it so hard to write about the squad heading from the kitchen to the living room.

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

“You know nothing about me, or the reasons for my actions,” Ulfric said icily. “I am a trueborn son of Skyrim who has dedicated my life to our independence. You are a self-righteous mongrel foreigner.”

Am I character-assassinating Ulfric? That's a matter for the courts.

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

The Volkihar family had never deserved Serana. Maybe the Aulettes could.

Serana is my sister and my babygirl and Sophrine has adopted her.

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

But hearing Esbern say it out loud was like listening to her own death sentence being pronounced. Again.

One theme that surfaces occasionally in ARLGS is that Sophrine feels like she never really escaped her death sentence at Helgen; it just keeps popping back up in the form of Fate and Destiny.

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

"We’ve even got an arena in New Sheoth these days. Ben set it up–you remember your cousin Benethir?”

Adoring Fan from Oblivion shoutouts? In my Skyrim fic? It's more likely than you think!

A line from your fic that's shocking

By the time they reached the outskirts of the city, Sophrine had realized two things: one, that she desperately needed to gather ingredients for the family-planning potion her mother had taught her, and two, that a girl could really get used to being taken up against a tree several times a day.

Sophrine, you are such a ho sometimes and we love you for it.

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

“Too bad!” she boomed, her voice filling the cavern. “Do you think I wanted Saint Nerevar’s memories instead of my own? Do you think your aunt planned to be in the same prison cell as the emperor’s escape route? People like us don’t choose what makes us different. We simply do what has to be done.”

Nana Sylvie's appearance in ARLGS was one of my all-time favorite things to write and I think we should all be talking about it more, frankly.

#my writing #oc: sophrine #oc: sylvie

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ratboydipshit · 1 year

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i go back and forth in my internal discourse about whether my interpretation of dagoth ur's homosexual feelings about indoril nerevar is legitimate or if it's entirely just another one of dagoth ur's manipulative mindgames (one that actually kind of works on me). there is no debate about whether or not it's there, it's inarguable it exists! the only question is if the feelings are real and to what degree. i dont have textual evidence but i do believe dagoth ur pined a little bit in a slightly homo way after nerevar died.

if only bethesda had finished the sixth house faction! i am sure then, in keeping with the rest of elder scrolls lore, there would be conclusive and unambiguous evidence proving one or the other. deep in the hall of justice secret library there would be a dissident priest's letter to the temple inner circle saying "i believe dagoth ur would stop being so awful if he just got some dick."

also i am entirely aware dagoth ur is a frighteningly violent racist who needs to be put to the sword but... it's morrowind. probably the only decent person in the entire province is jobasha the banned book catboy.

#i can fix him

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uesp · 3 years

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What is Dagoth Ur the patron saint of?

As far as I am aware, no one considers him to be a saint of anything. The Dunmer consider Aralor, Delyn, Felms, Jiub, Llothis, Meris, Nerevar, Olms, Rilms, Roris, Seryn, Veloth, and Vorys to be saints. The New Temple adds Almalexia, Sotha Sil, and Vivec to that list.

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orbitaldropshocktroopers · 2 years

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Nerevar sat with the stone of the wall pressing hard into his back. He was bleeding badly and the pain was overwhelming. The pain of the wound, and the betrayal. His friend, his brother, his lover, had struck a deadly blow, and here he was, dying. Alone. There was a steady thrum in the chamber, the heart of a dead god, it was said. Lying next to him, face down and dead, was his second betrayer. And, suddenly, in front of him, were his closest friends and advisors, his Tribunal.

He could not make out their hushed conversation as they hurried into the chamber, but it seemed urgent. Their whispers carried around the chamber, echoing around the walls and blending with the steady rhythm of the Spirit of Nirn. Finally, the three turned toward him. Vivec instantly looked away before Nerevar could catch hir eye. Sil stood like a statue with his robes concealing his form. Only Almalexia moved to his side. She knelt and pulled him away from the hard stone and into an embrace.

He had felt her arms around him before. Their marriage, he would have been the first to admit, had been a messy one, fraught with deceit and deception. But here, in her arms under the mountain, he felt what he had known to be true: she had loved him, in her own way. He leaned into her and she clutched at his arms and bare back.

The hum of the heart grew louder, it seemed. Pounding in his ears and head, throughout his body, but centered on his own, diminishing heartbeat. Here, was the beginning of the world, how fitting, he thought, that it should be the place where his own end was. He knew that soon he would be gone. He had known since the first betrayal, that there was no other way for his end to come. At least he was no longer alone here. His pain had abated.

He knew that his Tribunal did not bring aid for him. If they had intended to save his life, a healer would have come in with them. Instead, the three of them were simply waiting. Something wet hit his cheek. He struggled to raise his eyes, only to see Almalexia crying over him. He smiled at her, trying to impart his awareness to her. Trying to communicate forgiveness. “Walk my feet to water, de oad’ruhn. I will return home.” he whispered. “I am,” he coughed and blood spewed from his mouth. “Unfolding.”

And as his world went dark to the rhythm of the beating drum, a new world was becoming.

#so too are endings beginnings #tes #morrowind #yes im reposting this from my secret blog #i finally like it enough to share for real

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melancholicmer · 2 years

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"I'm so glad you're back, Andore"

"You actually said my name!"

"Andore?"

"Such funny sounding name!"

"You're so creative!"

"Nerevar"

(captions if someone can't read my handwriting)

Do you also hate it when someone keeps calling you the person you were in a previous life?

A scene taken (???) from the Steven Universe episode "familiar"

I never watched the steven universe, but I see a lot of things from it taken out of context that remind me of nerevar and voryn dagoth/nerevarine and dagoth ur

I have some tt sounds that remind me of those two that I'm planing to draw and there's a comic that's been on my mind that I'm also planing to draw

information that i had a lot of trouble drawing the mask of dagoth ur so i just drew it without

now I remembered that I wanted to draw dagoth ur with a broken jaw and black slime coming out of it, well now it's too late ;P

and I am very aware that such a scene is practically impossible in morrowind's storyline, but let the little genderless human dream :(

So far I hope my motivation will not disappear but I have a lot of stress because of school and important exams depending on which school I will go to

#morrowind #the elder scrolls #tes3 #tes3 morrowind #the elder scrolls iii: morrowind #the elder scrolls morrowind #dagoth ur #voryn dagoth #nerevarine #my artwork #oc:Andore

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talldarkandroguesome · 3 years

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5th of Frostfall, Tirdas

Finally we came to place where Seryn looked about. Perhaps it was the towering stones that marked the way for her, but we turned sharply and began our way along the Foyada, taking one of the branches just a ways beyond.

I do not wish to disclose any further details, that is already too much to identify the secret, sacred path. I shall say no more of it.

Our journey was slowed significantly by the increase in volcanic activity under our feet. It was bad enough that we had to stop and watch for falling stones. At one point Seryn actually made a shield, protecting us from a bolder that rolled down the side of the mountain. It was clear that the activity was increasing. It was as Tel and the others had warned. It was clear that most animals had sensed the increase themselves, for there was little animal life to be found anywhere near our path, save for the occasional shadow of a passing cliff strider.

I must say, Seryn has a keen ability to avoid cliff striders , something I asked her about as the light began to fade around us. She laughed and told me that perhaps it was that they were drawn to my scent of my incessant talking. I gasped, surprised at such words, but she quickly dissolved into a giggle and I found myself caught completely unexpected in her jest. I laughed myself, so surprised by the turn and I was glad for the break in what had been a lull in conversation as we walked.

After that, she was more jovial. At least until our upward climb drew near to where there appeared to be a cave.

Above, we could hear the wise woman shouting for someone to stay back.

We ran to find her fending off some skafin, of all fetching things! We defeated them with little issue and ran to the wise woman’s side, checking that she was alright.

She told us she was, that Azura had protected her until we arrived, just as predicted. I looked at Seryn, but she just smiled at me. I do not know if she was aware of the secret or if she simply was glad that we were where we were supposed to be.

Then the wise woman stopped, as though hearing something, so Seryn and I kept silent. Then she spoke, as if someone else were there and said she understood. I realized then who she was talking to as soon as she said, my Lady.

When she turned to me and said I should follow her, I felt my face flush in anticipation, my heart racing. As we headed towards the mouth of the cavern, the wise woman told me that the Queen of the Night Sky asked that I help the wise woman in coming to the correct decision regarding a claim. I could hardly believe my ears.

I asked, trying to contain my excitement, if it was regarding Chodala’s claim to be the Nerevarine. She told me I was correct and that clearly my insight as a diplomat would be needed. Although the Red Exiles had been convinced of Chodala’s claim, the wise woman said she was far more uncertain. But there was more she had to consider, for she feared that if she opposed him there would come retribution from the Red Exiles that could well harm all the Velothi in Ald’ruhn, and possibly beyond as well.

As we entered the cave, I was struck by the fact that this was a far more ornate shrine. Instead of the usual statue of Azura, stood with Her arms spread wide and the moon and star sitting upon each palm, this statue had Her seated, Her hands together, palms up, held downward. She appeared more to be offering than Her usual show of radiance. Her face appeared serene and kind. Besides Her were two statues of moon and star. At Her one knee, was a small pond, besides which was an altar covered with offerings.

I pulled myself from the awe that overcame me, I had a duty. A sacred one at that. So I asked the wise woman about her options. We spoke of different outcomes that could come from her decision. Finally, we agreed upon an option that would be the most beneficial, it would stop Chodala while allowing the wise woman to remain impartial. It might have consequences for me, but I assured her that I would be far happier having violence directed towards one House mer, than to risk harm coming to her people.

So she explained that if I could find from the spirits of the failed incarnates what brought about their failure, then those flaws could be compared to Chodala’s ambitions. It would be enough to prove that he was headed towards his own doom. His failure. Then she would be allowed to refute him.

I was thrilled and a bit overwhelmed by everything happening around me. Azura had spoken of me. I was in a sacred shrine, the likes of which I had never seen or heard of. I was going to be asked to speak with the failed incarnations of Nerevar, something I only knew a little about. I was going to be present to dispute an Ashkhan’s claim at Nerevarine. There was so much! It was unreal. I was in this pivotal moment in history. Only, instead of simply trying to help the hero of the story to reach the final stage to defeat evil, here I was actually a player in the outcome of history!

Despite Naryu’s jabs about my being hero, I have never felt that was a role designed for me. Yet, here I was, stepping into a place where likely no one outside of the wise women who maintained the shrine, ever entered. And Azura had asked me to do so.

Surreal is the only word I can think of that begins to describe the feeling.

The wise woman showed me how to summon the spirits and then bade me return to Ald’ruhn when I was done, for she needed to be there when Chodala returned from his meditations. Then she left me to do as I was told.

Making sure to carefully follow every instruction, I summoned the spirits of those thought to be Lord Nerevar’s reincarnations. Then, one by one, I saw the ethereal images of each of those great Velothi heroes who had claimed to be the Nerevarine before, rise up from where they had been laid to rest around Azura’s statue.

I took up ink, quill, and parchment, and I wrote down all that they said. Their stories, in their own words. I made sure to spare no details, writing as fast as I could, even when my hand cramped and my finger tips grew numb. This was far too important to let discomfort stop me.

I thanked each of them for their wisdom. I felt satisfied that I would be able to present these sacred stories, wisdom from those who had experienced it themselves, before the wise woman and Chodala. Perhaps Chodala would even see the folly of his ways and be convinced to continue on his great path in a way more befitting a unifier.

As I made to leave, a voice stopped me.

It was Azura, calling me to speak with Her.

I knelt before the great statue and kowtowed before it. I felt warmth and comfort from Her voice. The void where my soul once lay, instantly filled.

She offered me council before I went to refute Chodala’s claim. Offered me the wisdom in how best to present what I had learned and pressed upon me the importance of succeeding in this endeavor. Further, She told me that it was the staff that was making Chodala so bold and reckless and to prevent further destruction, he must be made to part with with. That he is not the Nerevarine.

That last part could leave no doubt. Chodala was clearly being led astray by the power in the staff. I had wondered by who or what, until I recalled the Skafin who attacked the wise woman. Clearly Chodala had made a deal with the Prince of Bargains. It was something to consider as we took our next steps. Perhaps he could be convinced that he should not try using Daedric pacts to fulfill his ambitions.

Before I left, Azura told me that I should assist her champion, which of course I agreed to. She named Seryn as that mer, a friend to all the Velothi people. I kowtowed again, pressing my forehead upon the cool ground. I swore that I would do so and that I would protect her, even should it cost me several lives.

I felt a pleased feeling all around me and my heart swelled with joy.

Then the radiating feeling began to dim and fade, until I was left alone in the cavern.

As I raised my head, the cavern was dimmer that before and I felt wetness streak my face. As I touched my cheeks, I felt tears. I felt the blessing that was given to me. And I knew my task.

I headed out of the cave and found Seryn waiting for me. She was deep in meditation, but looked up as I approached. She asked me if I had found what we needed. I said that I had and as the moons rose in the sky, I read the words of each of the three failed incarnates to her.

She thought in silence after I had finished. I remained beside her, content in knowing that I had a part to play. Seryn was going to succeed. She would convince her brother with evidence he could not deny. He would be forced to see reason. Then we could explain the gravity of consequence that came with his staff, a consequence that threatened the very people he wanted to unite. If Vivec’s power got too low, Red Mountain would certainly erupt, killing everyone that lived near, Velothi and Housemer alike.

Seryn spoke up and said she would need to sleep on everything and plan our next move. I told her I was hers to command, she only needed to say the word.

She laughed and told me that she was another diplomat, not the Ashkhan. I bowed and played her servant as we stood and gathered our things. I wonder if she understands how truly amazing she is? Does she know yet that she is Azura’s chosen?

It is not my place to say. If she does not know now, she will soon. I am sure of that.

We teleported back to Ald’ruhn and Seryn retired for the night. Normally I would go and sit with the rest of the tribe and drink and sing and enjoy the company, but I felt the weight of what was to come and decided that sleep would be a better use of time.

I only hope that we help Chodala to see wisdom.

#ESO #TES #RP #Dunmer #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

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ghartok-padhome · 3 years

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And as his world went dark to the rhythm of the beating drum, a new world was becoming.

#so too are endings beginnings #muhri'an

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razaks-wheel · 4 years

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[Adyn finally talks to Vivec after completing the Fourth and Fifth Trials.]

---

Adyn ascended the steps to Vivec's palace once more. This time, they had an invitation and even a key, but that did not stop them from feeling apprehensive. Why would Vivec be willing to lift the curse on the Nerevarine? Was this some sort of trap? Vivec had said that they would discuss everything in detail at their next meeting. They hoped ze still had that intention.

They cautiously entered the chamber. Just seeing their god again filled them with a multitude of emotions: excitement, fear, relief, dread—gods, they really just wanted a hug, but they pushed the thought away as potentially situationally inappropriate as they knelt before Vivec.

"Thank you for inviting me, muthsera."

"Rise, Adyn," Vivec said. "Of course you may have a hug."

They laughed with some embarrassment as they stood and went into Vivec's open arms. How could they have forgotten that ze could hear their thoughts?

Vivec held them close. Adyn was surprised to detect some sadness, almost a loneliness in the hug, but then they realized that this could be Vivec's first hug in years as well. But maybe it was even deeper than that. Maybe ze actually recognized them as hir old friend.

"You have your worries, and we will talk about them, but first, know that I am proud of you, Adyn. Look how far you have come in these past months since returning to Morrowind. Even a few weeks ago, you said that the Fourth and Fifth Trials felt impossible. And yet, here you are, Hortator and Nerevarine."

"Here I am," Adyn repeated softly when Vivec released them from the hug and returned to hir sitting hover. "I guess we have a lot to talk about. I've been trying to keep you updated through my prayers, but there's just...so much."

"There is, my Buoyant Armiger. Let me address your most central concern: Yes, if you fulfill the Nerevarine prophecies—and I do have faith that you will—the Tribunal will lose access to our source of divine power, relying only on what little we have stored up. Yes, we may even die. And, Adyn, I urge you to see these prophecies through to the end regardless. We understand the risk and accept that it is necessary. We cannot fight the Blight on our own. You will not be our enemy by fulfilling the prophecies, but our champion."

Of course they had already suspected that the risk was that great, but to hear it so plainly hit them like a territorial kagouti.

"Why?" they whispered after a moment. "Is there really no other way?"

"None that I am aware of," ze said. "Dagoth Ur must be defeated; that is not negotiable. He cannot be killed unless he is unbound from the Heart of Lorkhan. The only way to do that is to free the Heart from Kagrenac's enchantments. Doing so will break the Tribunal's connection to the Heart as well. I can see no other way." Ze seemed to detect their continued concern and said, "Speak freely. We won't accomplish much of anything here unless you do."

"I just don't get it," Adyn said. "I mean, I get it, but it sucks! I'm supposed to go kill my ex from a mysterious past life that I didn't even know about a couple months ago, and in so doing, I may or may not kill my gods, and that's apparently fine. And for some reason, I'm supposed to be better suited for this job than my actual gods are, because you upset Azura four thousand years ago. Is this supposed to make any sense?"

"I understand that it must be a lot to process."

"And what happens if I come back and find you dead? And everyone knows it's my fault? And the Temple, and the Armigers, and my House all hate me? If I come home from 'saving the world' and suddenly I have no friends, no family, and no gods?"

"The higher-ranking clergy already know of the plan and the possible outcomes. They would not fault you. Few others would even learn of the Tribunal's death for a long time."

"That's...really not much comfort."

"I know. I'm sorry, Adyn. The path of the Nerevarine is difficult and lonely, but you must follow it."

They sat down on the cushions on the floor, and Vivec floated a little lower to match their change in height.

"Can I ask you something?" they asked.

"Please do."

"How long have you known that I was the Nerevarine?"

Vivec contemplated hir words for a moment and began slowly, "I recognized you as a Hero—an agent of prophecy—from the moment you arrived on the Temple's doorstep. We did not know which prophecy was yours, but of course we had our suspicions. But it was only when you felt compelled to leave for Cyrodiil that we knew for certain."

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"I will admit, we considered the possibility, but killing a child would have caused some dissent among our faithful, and we were already struggling to keep our people's faith. I could have arrested and killed you for 'desertion' when you were to leave for Cyrodiil, but by then we had realized that the time had come, and we needed you alive."

"So you just raised me, kept me that close to you, knowing that someday you might have to kill me?"

"As I have said, 'Treat your enemies well and your friends better.' I did not know which you would be, and so I opted to treat you like a friend." Ze looked at them closely, probably reading their faint disapproval. "Before you think to judge me, consider where I learned such reasoning, Neht."

They sighed and closed their eyes, focusing on their ever-clearing memories of their past life. Sure, they remembered training Vivec in the arts of diplomacy and intrigue. Ze always had a knack for the subtler aspects of interpersonal webspinning, even if hir skills were coarse and needed to be refined for council politics. These thoughts were blasphemous, Adyn knew, but they were also their truth. Why was Vivec pushing them like this?

"Are you testing me?"

"Usually," ze said with a smile. "In what regard?"

"Testing to see how far my faith goes? Testing to see how long I can entertain Tribunal canon in the face of memories that contradict it?" they said. "Sometimes I believe you understand that I'm loyal to you—in my heart, anyway, even if my path doesn't show it—but other times it feels like you're probing to see if I'm really the heretic everyone says I am."

Vivec made a contemplative hum, lowered to hir feet, walked over to the cushion next to Adyn's and sat down.

"In that regard, no. I am pushing you to understand and accept your newfound duality. I know that you are a loyal subject of the Tribunal; I do not need to test you for that. But you are resisting the knowledge that you are also something else—someone else. You can be multiple things simultaneously, Adyn. You can be my Armiger while also being my old friend and mentor. You can accept Tribunal canon while knowing firsthand that there are parts that are fabricated. You can be our champion while also being our downfall." Ze took Adyn's hands in each of hirs: one gold and one gray. "You must accept this duality, because it is your truth. To continue pushing it away will break you—it's already breaking you."

Adyn took their right hand back to wipe their eyes and then returned it to Vivec's. Ze was right: it was breaking them. "But how can I accept all of that? It's hard enough to admit these things to myself, and you want me to admit in your presence that I remember who you once were, and how you got here? That I recognize your lies? And you expect me not to fear for my life?"

Vivec raised an eyebrow and said with a small smirk, "Well, now I will question your faith, if you think I cannot handle the dual nature of a Buoyant Armiger who is also Nerevar Reborn."

"No, I didn't mean—I just—"

"I jest. Here is the truth: You will have to lie to some and show only one side of yourself at a time. Among the citizens of Morrowind, you will be Adyn Rothreni. Hide what you know as Nerevar and uphold Tribunal canon. Step light, stride far, and act as a Buoyant Armiger must. Among those of the Sixth House, you may choose to be Nerevar, and suppress Adyn. But to yourself, and to me, you will be honest. Embrace your duality. This I command of you as your god, and ask of you as your friend, if you would still view me as such."

"Understood, muthsera," Adyn said softly. "And...okay, Vehk. I will do my best. For my friend."

A look of great relief washed over Vivec's face, and soon transformed into a bright smile. Ze squeezed their hands and said, "Thank you, Adyn-who-is-Neht. Now, let's discuss the plan of attack."

#adyn #razak's ocs #morrowind #vivec

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seydaneencensusoffice · 4 years

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@i-am-sharmat sent me the prompt “have you ever played in the rain?” :)

When the people flocked around them in the village square, holding out their hands to accept the customary alms from the King and his retinue of guards and advisors, the woman looked like any other Chimer peasant, simply clothed and with a face bronzed by the sun. It was only when she made a movement under her cloak and, raising her arm, looked Voryn right in the eye — a determined stare, the unmistakeable look of a fanatic — that a shock of unease pulsed through him. His next thought, as he turned to warn Nerevar, who was already being dragged out of the way by Alandro Sul, was that a fly must have bitten the back of his neck. Then he staggered.

Feeling as if a great vice had begun all of a sudden to constrict his head, his chest, vision blurring, Voryn heard Nerevar cry out his name… he sank to his knees, half-aware of someone supporting his arms, lowering him to the ground gently; coughing, he saw Nerevar turn to shout for help, and raised his hands to his mouth. They came away wet with blood.

“Oh,” he groaned, then passed out.

The guards carried him to the local temple, where the priest-healers made an upstairs bedroom into a sick room and put Voryn into a deep magical sleep, hoping to give his body the chance to overcome the poison. Nerevar refused to return to Mournhold until the would-be assassin had been interrogated and — the matter weighing more heavily on his mind, though he made an effort to conceal that fact — he could be sure that Voryn would survive. He had requisitioned the room next door to Voryn’s for his own, so that he could go through the papers and correspondence on hand, but in truth he was too anxious to focus on his work and spent much of his time checking in on Voryn.

Laid out on the bed, with his arms limp at his sides and his face as pale as the white linen sheets tucked around his chin, he looked like a corpse dressed for viewing before going to meet the funeral pyre. Nerevar couldn’t stop himself from extracting one fine hand from the blankets and checking the pulse at his wrist, just to make sure.

His hair, sweaty and in disarray, lay snarled across his brow. Nerevar frowned, thinking of the care Voryn took with his hair, how he’d hate to see himself so bedraggled; without realising what he was doing, he reached out to brush it back, tucking it behind his ears. He let his hand linger on Voryn’s forehead, which was clammy and feverish — the healers had said that was a good sign, that his body was fighting the poison. At least they’d washed the blood from his face… Oh, Nerevar, he thought, heart clenching as he watched Voryn in his lifeless sleep, his red lips parted slightly, what do you think you’re doing?

“Ignoring my better judgement,” he said out loud, answering himself.

Settling into a chair near the window, Nerevar watched over Voryn — his councillor, his friend — noting the rise and fall of his chest, the whispers of breath, and found himself begin to talk, first to himself, quietly and about things he had to remember to attend to back in Mournhold, and then, gradually, to Voryn, too. He was such a familiar conversation partner that Nerevar could imagine just what he would say in response to his rambling, how he would turn his head, the glint in his expressive eyes. When, every so often, the healers came in to check their patient, he noticed that they gave him sympathetic looks when they thought he wasn’t watching.

Late in the afternoon of the second day, Nerevar had dozed off to the sound of rain outside the window when he was woken by Voryn’s voice, hoarse and weak, saying, “My lord?”

“Voryn!” Leaping from the chair and rushing to the bed, he reached out on instinct, unable to stop himself from taking Voryn’s hand in his. “Azura be praised.”

“That woman — she threw a dart… Lord Nerevar! Where is she?”

“No, no, lie down, my friend.” Nerevar coaxed him back against the pillows, his brow creased with worry. “She’s in chains, being questioned.”

“Oh…” Voryn collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, as if even the action of sitting up had exhausted him, and allowed Nerevar to fuss over him, tucking the blankets in and smoothing the hair from his face. He was in such a dazed state that he barely had the mental energy to recognise that it was Nerevar tending to him. “Thank Mephala she missed you…”

Nerevar had decided already that he would not tell Voryn the truth — that, according to the interrogation so far, it seemed she had not missed her target at all — while he was in this weakened state. It was barely a lie, not if Voryn didn’t ask.

“Yes, well, you must rest now,” he said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll tell the healers you’re awake.”

“Not yet, just… could you keep talking to me, please, my lord?”

Nerevar turned his head away to hide the flush of colour he was certain had rushed to his cheeks.

“You could hear me?”

“A little,” Voryn said with a smile, golden eyes drifting shut.

“Well… your cousin Araynys should be arriving any moment now, from Vvardenfell; I’m sure she’s beside herself. Once you’re a bit better, you can go home with her… or come back to Mournhold, if you prefer.” He paused as a clap of thunder roared outside, staccato amidst the steady pouring of the rain. “Can you hear the rain? I bet the kids are out there jumping in puddles and throwing mud at each other… that’s what we used to do. Did you ever do that, Voryn? Play in the rain? I think you were a serious child, always inside reading books…”

“I played in the rain,” mumbled Voryn from the bed. “Just ask Araynys.”

“I’ll try to remember,” said Nerevar, laughing softly. “When we get back to Mournhold the gardens will be green and full of mushrooms, just imagine how beautiful it’ll be…”

But, when Araynys arrived, there was no opportunity to reminisce about their childhood in Dagoth Ruhn. She looked furious, sweeping into Voryn’s room with her red cloak flying and her hands clenched into fists, and ignored Voryn’s half-hearted protests as she quizzed him on his health.

“My lady,” he said at last, tired of the reproachful looks she was giving him across the bed, “I will leave you to speak with your cousin alone.”

As he rose to leave, he was surprised to see her rush over to him. Leaning in close, so that Voryn couldn’t hear, she whispered, “This is all your fault.”

Sometime later, once Voryn had fallen back into a heavy, medicated sleep, Araynys found the king outside the temple, pacing the perimeter of the fence bordering the priests’ guar paddock. He was smoking from a wooden pipe, face twisted into a mighty scowl. After many years without it — Dumac hated the smell of tobacco on him and insisted that the Dwemer cities had a carefully balanced ‘air profile’ which must not be disturbed by alien smoke —Voryn’s attempted murder seemed to have been enough to push him back into old nervous habits.

Araynys rested her arms on the fence and waited, saying nothing, for Nerevar to speak.

“You blame me,” he ventured, though there was no harsh edge of accusation in his voice.

Gazing out over the fields, as the guar grazed and birds called out in the fading light, she stayed silent, and only gestured impatiently for him to hand over the pipe. He obliged, shaking his head a little in amused disbelief, and she wiped the mouthpiece with her sleeve before inhaling deeply.

“You said this was my fault. Why?”

“It’s always about you,” she said, exhaling in a cloud of smoke. “Don’t tell me you can’t see it. They think he shares the king’s confidence — and his bed.”

There was a long pause; Nerevar watched coolly as she continued to smoke from his pipe.

“Well, they would be mistaken.”

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” Araynys shook her head in frustration. “Anyway, you’re doing nothing to dispel the notion… watching over him, holding his hand! You look like a worried wife.”

Nerevar straightened his posture and stared right at her with narrowed eyes, a projection of kingly wrath.

“Remember to whom you are speaking, Dagoth Araynys,” he warned. “I understand that you’re frightened, and angry, but you go too far.”

She stared back, bold and fierce, her glittering black eyes the mirror image of Voryn’s. Blessed Azura, thought Nerevar, are all the Dagoths stubborn as oxen?

“Forgive me, muthsera,” she said at last, almost spitting the syllables of the epithet. She thrust the pipe into his hands and turned toward the temple. “I must get back to my cousin.”

She was right, he knew — he had always been rash, had always allowed others to get too close to him without appreciating what it meant; he wasn’t sure he had ever resisted an impulse in his life. Once she had disappeared through the temple door, Nerevar turned to kick a nearby rock with such force that the chitin cap on the toe of his boot snapped in two.

“Fuck!” he cried, foot aching, pressing the balls of his fists hard into his eye sockets.

That night was sleepless; he thrashed about the bed, desperate to soothe his mind, but haunted by visions of assassins with poisoned blades and Voryn, motionless on the bed, but this time he really was dead… Nerevar tried to shake him awake, to breathe life into him, but a procession of people was filing into the room, all shaking their heads sadly, and saying, What did you expect? By morning, Nerevar had resolved to return to Mournhold at once.

“You’re awake, Araynys is here; you don’t need me. I’ll see you in Mournhold when you’re recovered, my friend.” Smiling as he rested his hand on Voryn’s shoulder, he added, “I’ll write.”

At the door, when Nerevar paused to glance over his shoulder, Voryn looked back, propped up against the pillows with the candlelight illuminating the wistful look on his face, and raised his hand in farewell.

#this was not meant to be so long but it got out of my control...#also I realised this was supposed to be a fluff prompt and I totally wrote it angsty so I'm sorry lena

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myrcella · 4 years

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unfinished, slightly slightly slightly nsfw nerevarine alavesa & dagoth ur fic because i can’t sleep and i’m sexie. cc: @fillianore @snowthroat @dolcesiva @bosmer 🌋👀

Coin may as well have sputtered out from Balmora’s underbelly like a fountain once it was sliced into; it was aplenty. She had been handed dirty laundry left right and centre and cleaned it with trained aplomb—the Dunmer, her people, accepted assassinations both personal and political as a part of daily life. Murder was to be expected. Slavery was often even if the Imperials whined about it—it was in the treaty. The Morag Tong had yet to catch the shadow poaching their, unnervingly, very legal contracts to kill. Alavesa would try to keep it that way.

Caius was barely in the home he had extended to her. She knew he was addicted to skooma but that was a man’s business. He trained her and kept her fed, and conveniently wasn’t there to bother her when she inevitably came to roost. She had every comfort handed to her on a platter in Vvardenfell, which a former prisoner should have been grateful for, but she wasn’t.

Because someone or something wanted so much more than she could give. It was a primordial, gnawing feeling that hadn’t ebbed away since stepping into Seyda Neen.

Sleep was the one comfort Alavesa could not take. It evaded her every night—or dawn—or perhaps she was evading it. That someone or something was watching her in her dreams too. In the onyx depth behind her eyelids, various figures would emerge and throbb on the horizon of her mind, but one always towered over the rest, stalwart and significant. He was a red, pulsing monolith, and he felt too familiar and too close to her.

One of her most vivid dreams had been some mockery of a wedding procession: of being herded through an adoring crowd that laid stars themselves at her feet. The crowd were corpses. The monolith’s… hand, she assumed, had covered most of her back. He had been the one guiding her, and though his grip was cautiously gentle then, Alavesa’s chest had been stiflingly tight. When she had, somehow, been able to will her neck to crane and stare up at the captor of her dreams, she had been greeted by an ornate gold mask, with three soulless eyes, and three protruding tendrils.

What is this?

Her voice echoed and barely came out at the same time.

Morrowind, free of the n’wahs, sweet Nerevar.

His voice was like a long, dark hallway, baritone and poisoned.

Who are you?

I have risen, to give you the Heart—and you also have need of mine.

Who am I?

Nerevar… My sweet Moon-and-Star, you have come, how I had waited thousands of years for you to come to me!

Alavesa’s ribs weren’t as scrawny. She felt the weight of decorative jewellery and a silk robe on her. There was a veil sheen in front of her black eyes, she realised, and something weighing her down on her head, too—a crown. The monolith’s fingers were so elongated and sharp, claw-like. They touched between her breasts…

She woke to sweat and an uncomfortable awareness that she was aroused.

She tentatively asked Caius when they broke their fast what she should make of something that seemed laughably prophetic, and he told her they were just so: nonconsequential dreams. But his shoulders were tense and his voice unusually strained.

And she was lucky to escape the effect even in reality when she was awake: all manner of hobbling people were acutely able to sniff her out in any town and speak in clipped, cryptic tones, like they had dreamed the same and knew her.

“I am a sleeper, one among thousands,” one had chirped.

“Father of the Mountain,” another chimed.

“He sleeps, but when He wakes, we shall rise from our dreams,” yet another added.

Alavesa shoved them away brusquely when they accosted her, because she was soon growing tired of whatever fate the Blades were obviously cooking up for her. Then, one evening at the riverbank in Balmora, one did not speak so cryptically.

“Pure Dunmer, I bring you a message.”

She started at the voice but quickly regained composure. It was another ‘sleeper’ to be sure.

“Go away, s’wit,” she said dismissively, because she had a sword whirring against a grindstone. When had she begun using Dunmeri? “I’ve had enough riddles to last a lifetime—“

“Dagoth Ur calls you,” the sleeper interjected.

Alavesa lurched and dropped her sword, curtains of inky hair falling to cover her face. It clattered to the ground but felt on the edge of her vision now. Something very instinctual and previously dormant swept through her bones like a chill.

“I know that name,” she said. “I know Dagoth… Why do I know that?”

She wheeled around to face the sleeper. They were just another messenger in dark garb. They looked satisfied but their eyes were faraway too.

“You are the Nerevarine,” they said. “You cannot deny your Lord. The Sixth House is risen, and Dagoth is its glory…”

The hooded figure wore on to her of Red Mountain, the landmark that eclipsed most of Morrowind and could be seen bubbling and choking the sky with smoke from almost anywhere. The volcano had only become active recently, and for good reason—Dagoth Ur was rising within just the same. Alavesa went to press about the Sixth House, but the sleeper was away on the wind as quickly as they had come to her.

She bolted home feeling like fire was threatening to rip apart every piece of sinew and marrow inside her.

#alavesa #x: countless ages ago #*oc #*fic

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gronglegrowth · 4 years

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I am aware of the things MK has done. But, what about Lady Nerevar? I just saw a post that mentioned her not being good either. What did she do?

#yol tor shul #i am kind of afraid to learn (as i was with mk) but here we go

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lundiivith · 4 years

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ive been traversing. ive been traversing uesp lately

for the first time ive been doing that properly instead of mostly like, relying, on people telling me about lore or on the fandom wikia,

which by the way is objectively better than UESP because it notes pelinal whitestrake was gay and uesp doesnt even use gendered pronouns for his boyfriend,

anyways

here are some elder scrolls lore hot takes that arent pelinal whitestrake related

y’ffre can, like, Get It

quantum physics is fucked up in elder scrolls

its SO fucking funny that normal people things happen in elderscrolls when you know about like, aurbis being a wheel and whatever. Like oh my god you little elf bitch (shakes him by the shoulders) you little elf motherfucker youre living on an EARTH THAT HAS BONES how does that FEEL, we just have DINOSAURS here thats so boring, why is your DIRT COOLER than OUR dirt,,,,

i watched a video about the book of invasions today and motherfucker why does it all sound roughly as coherent as that

i still have no idea how the argonians evolved but the hist is also sexy and can unironically get it

i want to call daedric princes dinosaurs now for no reason other than to commit chaos

i have NO idea what an ada is and ive just been interpreting it as like, the et’ada equivalent of a regular ol daedric summon, like an et’ada atronach, if that makes like, LITERALLY any sense, and i’m VERY scared of being wrong. it’s kind of like saying the washing machine of a blender but i hope you understand where i’m getting at? like an atronach but like, Minus whatever it is that makes them Specifically daedric

morihaus and alessia were super cute, actually

also alessia pegged him 100% right

(remembers the all-maker) Oh my god i can’t believe christianity is canon to skyrim

I LOVE THAT THE KHAJIIT AT SOME POINT WERE AWARE OF ALDUIN AND THEN RID-THAR-RI’DATTA WAS LIKE... NO... SHOOSH... NO WORLD EATER. ITS OKAY

if the all-maker is anu and sithis is padomay is the adversary (roughly speaking) wouldnt there be some REALLY interesting possibilities in a ldb whos part of the dark brotherhood (with all that sithis stuff going on) interacting with the skaal? ohh, you could make a ldb who frees miraak to spite the skaal, that’d be neat

i need someone who plays eso regularly to tell me what the fucks up with vile getting nicknamed nycot because that sounds HILARIOUS

i very much appreciate that in tes people know gods are real but also they worship as gods things that arent necessarily gods (like phynaster) like thats not unrealistic honestly

(nord voice) shor’s phat knutz!

the more i read about redguard pantheon the more interested i am. why do they have a god named daddy

“[Xarxes] created his wife, Oghma, from his favorite moments in history “ this is cute in a really weird way

i think the yokudans had the same naming scheme for their gods that i have for my OCs ie “whatever sticks sticks but you gotta be able to moan it without cracking up”

(which is how i end up with OCs named shit like Asvestus, Sa’ran, Vuvuzuelle, Dove, Björn, i almost named an oc after tabasco sauce once, i had an oc named Sauerkraut but i shortened it to Kraut and now he’s an actual serious oc and he has an interdimensional boyfriend it’s cute)

why are there so many continents in elder scrolls that up and dissappear. are nirn’s tectonic plates ok

“Hermaeus Mora (sometimes spelled "Hoermius", "Hormaius", or "Herma" Mora), [...] also known to the ancient Atmorans and Bosmer as Herma-Mora, [...] to the Ayleids as Hyrma Mora, and to the Khajiit as Hermorah,”

PICK. A SPELLING. AND STICK TO IT WHOREMAEUS

(dagoth ur voice) nerevar will you come to my wine and cheese hour.

tsun is up there sexiest tes gods like tsun can get it, we can all agree on this

“why are you so insistent in gods being sexy” WHAT IS A GOD FOR IF NOT FUCKING. COME ON this is why no one likes nurgle

and the most important hot take of them all

IF YOU DON’T WANT TO FUCK OBLIVION MANNIMARCO. YOU ARE A FAKE FANNIMARCO. AND YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMEDIMMARCO.

#long post /#raw opinions from the source.

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