#Telvanni Hortator
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New Light
I have been BUSY <3 This fills the writing prompt, Mushrooms.
And it's (melancholy) shippy shit with my new Morrowind OC, Drelayn! >:} Fic Universe Canon, and, btw, this is Teldryn's boyfriend during a great deal of the Nerevarine stuff.
(Technically we do also get a second OC, Drelayn's twin sister, now passed, Dravynea.)
I waffled a little over the ship, until I decided Drel would be here, now, in this moment, after Tel had to do some awful shit to finish filling a prophecy he doesn't believe in. Their paths are parallel in many ways. And Tel was not always as huge a mess as he is in World. This is, technically, before the fall.
A quick thank you to @paraparadigm, @changelingsandothernonsense and @snippetsrus for your endless support of these endeavors <3
~*~
New Light
Drelayn Uvelath looked over at Teldryn, sharp planes of his face made sharper by the light and the twisting, deep purple tattoos that snaked down under his collar. His hair was messy, sides overgrown, crest no longer able to keep its shape. The stubble he’d always been keen to shave away was growing in too, and he scratched at it absently. He was staring into the distance, the sun setting over Tel Vos, its enormous fungal tower peeking through severe, grey-stone Imperial architecture, goaded along by Telvanni magic.
Nerevarine.
The title felt strange to turn over in his mouth. It was a word tossed around by the Ashlanders, but nobody ever took it seriously. At least, not until now.
Drelayn scooted closer and leaned his shoulder against Teldryn’s, winding his fingers through his. He could feel the tension in them, under the bruises, the callouses. Under the ring, too—Moon-and-Star—whose enchantment buzzed like a distant hive of bees. He brought Teldryn’s hand up and kissed the back of it. That earned him a look, a tiny quirk of a smile. And then he was distant again, head full of plans. Fears. Doubts.
This was the last stop. Everything he’d been through, every deed done, and finally, Aryon would name him Hortator. And that would be that. A prophecy complete. Aside from the runs to Black Marsh he’d been doing for the Lamps, Drelayn had been here much of the way. He smiled to himself and watched as Teldryn hugged his knees to his chest with a sigh and rested his chin on them, making himself small. Always so melancholy. Always worried about the next step.
Drelayn had been there before, where every decision felt like the wrong one. Mercenary work was not for the soft. He’d built up walls, and let ice collect in his core, to numb the shock of having both no voice at all and the specific kind of power it took to hold other people’s lives in his hands. These jobs ranged from watching the blood drain from the neck of the otherwise-innocent, to recapture of…escaped assets. The work was cruel. And he’d gone cold enough that even when it all fell apart, and there wasn’t anything left tying him to Vvardenfell, he still felt nothing. He had been cruel. Before that, his twin sister had taken all of this in stride, and was able to compartmentalize the pieces of this life that made him ill. He often wondered how she’d managed. Sometimes, he still did.
Work is work. Sometimes you’ll have to make due even when it hurts, baby brother, she’d said. She was right. She’d always been. Don’t let it grind you down. -> Read the rest on AO3.
#MareenaWrites#The Heart of the World#Dragonborn and Far-Star Marked#morrowind#morrowfic#morrowind fic#tes#tesblr#elder scrolls#fanficblr#writblr#writeblr#prompt fill#Drelayn Uvelath#Drelayn#Twin Lamps#Telvanni#Telvanni Hortator#Nerevarine#Teldryn#Nerevarine Teldryn#Nerevarine Teldryn Sero#Teldryn Sero
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for the sake of votes
How to impress your ex wife
#Lord Nerevar would do ANYTHIN!#Oc: Nerevarine (nameless)#Oc: Selkin#Therana#Morrowind#Telvanni#The Elder Scrolls#The Elder Scrolls Morrowind#The Elder Scrolls III#Elder Scrolls#yes the implication that Nerevar DOES carry a pack of cards with them at all times is correct. never know when you need to whip them out#to impress a lady or to gain a vote for Hortator#Almalexia
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Two standing braziers faintly illuminated the tapestries on the walls as Qismehti approached. They were sacred triangles, each corner representing the three holy symbols: Ayem. Seht. Vehk. Above the tri-faced Tribunal shrine was a mural of the three living gods: Vivec’s head aflame and sword in hand; Almalexia in full battle regalia, including her devilish mask; Sotha Sil levitating limbless next to his divine siblings.
Before the pit of ash and bone knelt a hooded stranger, whose head tilted ever so slightly towards Qismehti as she approached, but not enough to reveal their face. But the fabric of their drab cloak shifted enough to reveal the much more exquisite clothes beneath.
Qismehti approached, her ebony armor clanking, knelt before the Waiting Door next to the stranger, and began to pray. She was Redoran, but her connection to these ancestors was faint. An outlander’s adoption into a House afforded them only scant access to their spirits. But she needed their wisdom today of all days.
After some time of mostly failed communion, she glanced at her fellow beseecher. Poking out from the hood was a familiar chin, bedecked with a beaded red beard.
“Grandmaster,” Qismehti said without turning her head fully.
“Ah, am I that recognizable?” answered Llethym Hlaarothan from beside her, smirking at his clasped hands.
“Yes,” said Qismehti. “What are you doing here? Wrong canton.”
“Yes, well,” Llethym began. “You know, Mehti. Our temple is still under construction.”
“I didn’t suspect you as the religious type,” Mehti said.
Llethym lowered his hands and slapped them on his lap. “It’s politically expedient to at least appear the type,” he said. “Indoril’s been pushing our buttons about it recently.”
“Then why the cloak? Not everyone will recognize you as I do.”
“Enough questions,” sighed Llethym.
“It’s my House’s house. I think I have the right to question an intruder.”
“An intruder?” exclaimed Llethym, turning his head and putting on an expression of faux shock. “You wound me, Mehti.”
Qismehti grunted and said nothing.
Llethym pulled back his hood and asked, “So what are you doing here, Archmaster?”
It seemed as though she wasn’t going to get any more prayer done today. “What do you think?” she asked.
“I think,” Llethym began, “you’ve got something heavy on your mind.”
Mehti sighed. “It’s the Archmagister.”
“What of her?”
“She wants me to declare her Hortator.”
“Ah,” said Llethym, looking away. “I suppose I should have told you. She’s dead-set on finishing this whole ‘Nerevarine’ business. Won’t call it done until Dagoth Ur is dead. Did you know she already has the Ashlander tribes behind her?”
“Yes,” Qismehti said, “she told me.”
“Just give it to her,” advised Llethym. “She’ll do anything to get it. She killed the Duke’s fool brother, and nearly everyone who worked for him, for it.”
Qismehti sighed and stood, wiping scattered ash from her greaves. “There’s only one way for her to become Hortator of the Redoran.”
“Don’t be stupid. You’re tough, but she’ll kill you.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I said don’t be stupid!” Llethym jumped to his feet to face Qismehti. “No ancestors could save you, certainly not any that you can barely claim!”
Qismehti scoffed and casually drew her ebony war axe, tossing the sharply-hooked bladed instrument into the air and catching it effortlessly under the beard, then returning it to the loop on her belt. “I don’t think I’ll need them.”
“She won’t hesitate to use magic,” Llethym reminded. “She’s a Telvanni, b’Vehk. She doesn’t have to abide by your rules.”
“I’ll have some tricks up my sleeve, too,” Qismehti said, smiling at Llethym pointedly.
“Oh,” he said, “you expect me to intervene? She’s already my Hortator, Mehti. I can’t enchant anything for you to use against her.”
“Just some scrolls is all I’ll need,” she replied. She leaned in to whisper into his ear…
- - - - -
Qismehti and Ku-vastei entered the Vivec Arena simultaneously. Word had spread across the city, across all of Vvardenfell, about this fight. As a result, the upper level was packed with spectators. Redorans cheered for their Archmaster; Telvannis placed bets on their Archmagister. Hlaalu and its Grandmaster watched on anxiously, concerned for any potential shifting of power between the other two houses. Ordinators struggled to keep peace amidst the excitement.
Ku-vastei was clad in gleaming adamantium armor from head to ankle, her digitigrade feet exposed and pressing footprints into the dusty arena floor. Her pensive face was revealed by the visorless helm, perfectly composed and prepared. In her beringed claws was an adamantium spear of some sort, tri-pronged and deadly sharp. Qismehti, familiar with weaponry of all kinds, didn’t recognize the make.
Qismehti wore her usual attire: a suit of gilded ebony armor, complete with matching shield and war axe. On her belt were three scrolls. Ku-vastei couldn’t discern their possible contents from this distance, and could only guess as to their purpose, if they held any at all. The only other thing that differed from when Ku-vastei made the challenge was that Qismehti wore her full ebony helmet, concealing her face completely.
After the announcer introduced them and bid them fight, the two of them circled the arena for some time, waiting for the first strike.
“We don’t have to do this,” said Ku-vastei, loud enough for Qismehti alone to hear her. “We can both go home, and you can name me Hortator…peacefully.”
Qismehti made no reply, and charged at Ku-vastei.
Mehti attempted an overhead chop, which Ku caught under the beard with her spear turned horizontal. Ku tugged the spear towards herself, trying to force the axe from Mehti’s hand, but her grip was too strong. All she succeeded in doing was bringing the blade of the axe closer to her cuirass.
To disengage, Ku twisted the spear, unlocking the axe from it, and jumped backwards. She attempted a quick thrust during the leap, but Mehti brought up her shield, causing the spear’s point to scrape to the side with a screech. Mehti kept up her advance, swiping sideways with her axe, forcing Ku to deflect with a quick spin of her spear. Again the shaft caught underneath the beard of the axe, shifting Mehti’s balance.
But Mehti let go of the axe. Instead she pulled a scroll from her belt with her now-free hand, and punched Ku’s exposed foot with her shield. Ku instinctively doubled over to clutch at her battered toes, but it gave Mehti an opening. She let the scroll fall open, touched it to Ku’s chest, and shouted:
“THAT WHICH DEFINES YOU WILL PROVE TO BE YOUR UNDOING.”
Dark red light emanated from the Daedric inscribed on the scroll, and Ku froze. All her muscles locked up, and she couldn’t move an inch. In her compromised position, she fell to the floor in exactly the same pose as she had stood.
The crowd fell completely silent.
Qismehti, beneath her ebony visor, smiled. The s’wit’s scroll worked. She leisurely fetched her axe from the floor nearby, and returned to Ku-vastei to finish the job. She knelt before Ku-vastei’s paralyzed body and raised her axe to strike -
But she hesitated.
Ku swung out her leg as soon as she broke free from the scroll’s curse. It caught Mehti in the shoulder, dislocating it and throwing her to her side. Ku jumped to her feet but immediately bent over, coughing up blood. Mehti rolled away just before Ku could crash the speartip down on her in a wild act of vengeance.
Ku wiped her mouth and glared at the ebony warrior who now stood before her. She spun her spear with a flourish and then pointed it directly at Mehti’s heart before approaching. Mehti grabbed another scroll and frantically read its contents:
“STRENGTH AND HONOR. DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES.”
The words glowed blue, and Mehti felt rejuvenated. Her shoulder locked back into its socket painlessly, and she felt invigorated, her axe-arm growing stronger. Not to mention, the reckless escape had pumped an adrenaline rush into her veins.
Mehti put up her block just as Ku arrived, effortlessly deflecting the spear to the side. She counterattacked, swinging her axe directly at Ku’s helm. It bounced off to the side, but left a nasty dent. Ku backtracked and clutched at her rattled head. Mehti kept up her advance, swinging again for the same spot. But Ku caught the blow with her bracer, bouncing it away. Mehti attempted one more swipe, but Ku had recovered, and deflected it with her spear.
Ku retreated further, and Mehti, her magical and innate advantages running dry, settled on waiting. Ku made a gesture with her spare claw, that of the Hearth, and her body was wreathed with several azure sparks. She rectified her posture from one of near-defeat to one of confidence. She put up another gesture, and mumbled something; her form was covered in a violet shell. Mehti, ill-versed in magic, knew not these signs, but they worried her.
Once ready again, Ku approached, spear leveled towards Mehti. She tried for a stab, which was easily blocked. But she transferred the momentum into a downward sweep, which Mehti failed to jump. She took the blow hard to her ankle, buckling that leg. Instinctively she raised her shield for another strike which she narrowly halted in time. From behind the shield she reached out her axe-arm to strike. Ku didn’t bother to defend; the blade of the axe seemed to be stopped before it reached her cuirass, bouncing off of some invisible force field. A Shield, dammit.
Ku spun her spear, thwacking Mehti’s overextended wrist, prising the axe’s haft from her grip. Then she gave Mehti’s shield a mighty guar-kick, sending her to the ground. Mehti’s head hit the floor of the arena hard, knocking the ebony helmet from its place there. Ku mounted Mehti, straddling her body as she raised her spear to strike -
There was just enough wiggle room to grab -
Mehti whispered something just before Ku dropped the blade into her exposed throat. A green light flashed in Ku’s eyes, and she stopped. “What did you say?”
Qismehti shook her head, saying only, “Do it, then.”
Ku-vastei tilted her head. “Why should I, friend?” She looked around at the spectators of the fight, the Telvanni cheering and the Redorans jeering and the Hlaalu silent. “Why should we continue this charade? You were dragged into this prophetic business the same as I was; let me finish it. Call me Hortator.”
Qismehti closed her eyes. Finally she sighed, “You are Hortator.”
Ku-vastei smiled her wide smile and stood, offering a hand to help Qismehti stand. The two of them stumbled to the center of the arena, hand-in-hand, as the crowd watched on in silence. Together, with their hands clasped, they raised their arms. “Hortator!” cried Qismehti for all to hear. There was a deafening roar from the audience, as all jumped to their feet, clapping and hollering - even the reticent Hlaalu.
Llethym was the only in his retinue to remain silent, but he smiled. An unstoppable force, he thought, and an immovable object - and yet both still stand. He offered a genuine prayer to Azura, for the first time in years.
#tes#tesblr#morrowind#oc: ku-vastei#oc: qismehti gra-lubakt#oc: hlaalu llethym hlaarothan#telvanni#redoran#hlaalu#hortator#argonian#redguard#orc#dunmer#dark elf
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wip of the cnc fic 🧍
voryn is trans in this. and again this is cnc. they are roleplaying but it will read like. SA.
Voryn had his wrists bound tightly, laid out on a torture table, unable to move. Even worse was the fact as he was strapped down his willpower was drained completely, along with his strength for good measure. He couldn’t muster up a single spell, even though he had the magicka reserves, and wouldn’t be able to cast anything until it was restored.
He was helpless, and that fact only infuriated him. The most he could do was struggle weakly like an injured animal, gritting his teeth.
Worst of all, Voryn knew why he was here. And that reason only infuriated him more.
The door opened, Nerevar Mora waltzing in humming softly, a content grin on his face. He seemed to take great joy in how Voryn was strapped to the table and glaring at him.
“My, isn’t this a pleasant sight…” Nerevar’s eyes roamed up and down him, taking in the view with a kind of sick want that had Voryn shuddering.
Voryn had refused to name Nerevar as Hortator of House Dagoth, a fact that had incensed the former canvasari. Voryn saw no purpose in it--House Dagoth didn’t care about things like unity, nor did Nerevar make a convincing enough case for how a united chimer front would genuinely help them against the nords. The former canvasari told him he’d regret this decision, but Voryn had brushed him off.
At Nerevar’s appearance though, still eying him like a hunk of meat, Voryn spat in his face. He could see the anger dart across Nerevar’s features, before he closed his eyes and exhaled, wiping it off. He then grabbed Voryn by the jaw firmly, a cold anger in his eyes.
“Don’t make me gag you.” Nerevar warned. “It would be a shame to make me, Voryn.”
“Don’t call me that so familiarly.” Voryn growled. At that, Nerevar laughed.
“I think you and I are about to get well acquainted with one another.” Nerevar replied with a cocky grin.
“Do you think this will get you what you want?” Voryn was still glaring, far from intimidated. “Torture will not work on me.” Though to be honest, Voryn didn’t expect Nerevar to have the delicacy for torture. You couldn’t use brute force, after all; no no, torture was an art. It took real skill, care, and patience to bend someone to your will with pain. Voryn imagined he’d give in after an hour or two and just kill Voryn, hoping the problem would go away. “And you can’t just kill me like you did with House Telvanni’s head. If I die, the position will go to one of my brothers, all of whom are loyal to me.”
Nerevar continued smirking sadistically though, still holding his jaw. “Oh, I have no plans to kill you.” With his other hand Nerevar grabbed a dagger from his belt. Voryn tensed on instinct, before the blade was lowered to the belt and ties holding his robes closed. In an instant the delicate fabric was cut by the sharp blade, exposing his body.
A different kind of fear ran through Voryn this time as he began to struggle more.
“Be careful,” Nerevar’s smirk had become a maddened grin watching the terror cross Voryn’s features, “You don’t want me to cut you by accident, do you?” Just to prove a point he let the knife nick Voryn’s chest, Voryn hissing. Then, Nerevar tossed the knife onto the table nearby, leaning down to run his tongue along the small cut, ripping the fabric off the rest of the way.
“Get off of me this instant!” Voryn growled, his face flushed red in both rage and humiliation.
“Gods, your body is gorgeous…” Nerevar hummed again while pressing wet kisses to his skin, completely undeterred. “It’s such a shame you hide it away under such heavy robes all the damn time.”
Voryn managed to get one of his ankles free--it seemed he wasn’t strapped down quite as well as he should have been, and took the opportunity to try and kick Nerevar right in the groin. However, Nerevar caught his leg, his hand no doubt going to leave bruises in its wake.
“Behave.” Nerevar made direct eye contact with him again, his tone showing what a warlord he was. He was brutish, cruel, and terrible. Voryn grit his teeth, still shaking.
It was infuriating. Infuriating, infuriating, infuriating! Was all he could do really just lay there like a helpless maiden and be assaulted? Raped by this brute who called himself Azura’s champion?!
Nerevar undid Voryn’s loincloth next, all but ripping it off him, before whistling appreciatively. He used Voryn’s free leg to spread his thighs with ease given his strength.
“Look at that…” Nerevar was gawking openly now, a pleased smirk once again on his face. “Such an attractive body…” He ran his hand down Voryn’s stomach, following the trail of hair, coaxing another shudder out of Voryn. Something was bubbling away in his stomach though, something equal parts shame and something he dare not name.
“Oh,” Nerevar gasped softly, his fingers finally finding Voryn’s sex. “Nice and wet, aren’t you?”
The touch felt electric, his cunt aching for more. It felt like his body wasn’t listening to him, daring to get turned on by such a bastard having his way with him. He was disgusted with himself, humiliation once again kicking in as he couldn’t even control his own body. He attempted to jerk his leg away, but Nerevar held it firm.
“Stop touching me,” Voryn hissed through his teeth. “Get off me—get the fuck off me—!”
Voryn’s head fell back in a moan, his back arching as Nerevar firmly slapped his cunt, the sensation amazing on his cock. It felt good—only a slight jolt of pain that was entirely overwhelmed by the pure pleasure of the impact. His body trembled as he realized he’d moaned, eyes shut tight and gritting his teeth, even his ears red from the humiliation.
“Filthy little masochist.” Nerevar repeated the motion again, taunting him. “Does the rest of your house know what a little whore you are?” Voryn tried to suppress the moans as Nerevar rubbed back and forth against his dick. The pressure was firm, just edging into pain again, before another slap followed.
“You’ve got such a cute cock.” Nerevar was leaning over him again, this time whispering in his ear. “Nice and hard for me, aren’t you…?”
“I’ll make you pay for this, you dog.” Voryn grit his teeth. “I’ll fucking kill yo--” Voryn was cut off with another slap to his cunt, moaning and whining from the sensation.
“I don’t need to take that from a bitch in heat who's enjoying this.” Nerevar licked up the shell of his ear now. “So why don’t you shut that pretty little mouth of yours before I make you?”
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not to be too much of a morrowboomer (i am) but i’m so obsessed with the events that took place at red mountain. particularly the red moment when kagrenac activated the numidium, the disappearance of the dwemer, nerevar and voryn’s deaths, and the ascension of the tribunal. i’m fond of the dragonbreak theory which means all accounts that contradict each other happened all at once, coalescing into a reality in-world where two eras on there are conflicting takes, guided by interest and belief. twenty years later the fandom is still debating the red moment. i love that it allows the player to approach characters and factions from a place of interest and discovery. vivec’s own ambivalence as to the tribunal’s role in what happened (foul murder), dagoth ur’s desperate pleas to get the nerevarine to hear him out, the hurt he carries over nerevar’s betrayal. we don’t know if the tribunal killed nerevar and then voryn when he refused to hand them the tools. if nerevar told voryn “stay here, loyal dagoth ur, until i return” only to return to a voryn corrupted by the heart of lorkhan, forced to kill him only to be killed by the tribunal. if voryn killed nerevar instead. that ambiguity is at the core of the game and together with the worldbuilding helps it be so steeped in grey areas and gives the world and the factions and the lore so much nuance. like how each house has a different position wrt the changes that morrowind is going through, and no house is a monolith. telvanni has master aryon who is trying to usher in change, bolvyn venim is a staunch traditionalist even inside the redoran to the point he is required to die should you wish to move through the ranks and/or be named redoran hortator, ilmeni dren of house hlaalu works closely with the twin lamps, but the house is also in the grip of the camonna tong, crassius curio is a fucking predator who at the same time is trying to deal with the corruption rampant in house hlaalu. i could go on.
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Me wanting to finish the morrowind main quest before starting a new character to play different/updated modified factions and juuuust having to become Telvanni Hortator then realising I have a mod installed that involves going to every god damned wizard tower on the TR mainland to convince a bunch of additional dickheads to vote for me and/or electrocute me to death as part of the quest and thanking fuck that this character is a mage so I can levitate up all like 10 of these things and not get instantly melted the moment one of them casts Racism Beam because also I'm a temple-aligned argonian and every single member of the faction starts at 5/100 disposition. Baar Dau did nothing wrong.
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kur's old lady fling with mistress dratha is not a lasting thing—not least because kur is deeply distrustful of the telvanni—but they're genuinely fond of each other. dratha's glee upon discovering that the heretic campaigning to be hortator is a fellow grizzled telmoran fuels her for years
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Um 💀🍩✏️ for venaya?
Thank you!! :D
💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?
Lava. She really hates the stuff and will do anything to avoid it. Ironic since she's a dunmer and her homeland has entire rivers of it, but after being horrifically burned in a lava river by the Cammona Tong, she's never felt comfortable near the stuff since. Every time a quest has sent her into a volcano, she's wished she could be literally anywhere else because fuck lava.
🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?
Magister Gothren. Ever since her run in with him in Vvardenfell, she's longed to have a reason to kill him because fuck that guy. So imagine her delight when, seven hundred years later, she's told that if she wants to be Hortator of the Telvanni, she'll have to kill Gothren. She's literally ecstatic to have an excuse to kill him, its one of those little things that brings her great joy (and scares Julan ngl).
Otherwise she's not really got any rivals per say because she's always made an effort to avoid that kind of attention... even though she failed miserably to go unnoticed by the Pact.
✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?
Not as often as I should ;-; I've done a couple of lil oneshots with her, but honestly she deserves more
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Replaying TES made me wanna remake references for my primary OCs… so Sven first!
Here's a link to Po, my HoK!
And a link to Val, my LDB!
IDs under cut!
[ID: Two character reference images, both for the same character, done digitally in procreate.
The first image shows the character, Sven, from the chest up. He's a dark elf, with dark, muted, purple skin; muted, dark red hair, that's jaw-length and swept back; red eyes; a hooked nose; and a light beard. His skin is dotted with golden "freckles," and there are some bigger blots of golden skin in some areas, will mention explicitly in the second reference. He's wearing a dark, sleeveless turtleneck with a chest window, and a red, half-sided robe covering his left half (viewers right). His left hand is raised to his chest, showing a ring with a moon and star. Notes around the portrait read: "Sven Moon-and-Star (as he appears by 4E 201) / The Forgotten Nerevarine,
despite the name. / House Telvanni Master, officially lives with Neloth during the time of Skyrim. Somehow tolerates the mer. / Master Conjuror. Maybe can bear Neloth because Neloth knows he's better
than him at just this one magic school, just the one. / With most others, Sven is quiet and humble about his
past. He still remains humble, but opens himself more to Valerio when he's revealed to be the Last
Dragonborn, as Sven remembers how lonely and overwhelming it was to be prophecy-stricken."
The second image is a full body picture of Sven with selective coloring, a reference of where Sven's scars and marks are located, at least on the front of his body. The image also shows Sven is rather muscular, if a little thin. Notable marks (viewers perspective) are the yellow freckle-like marks dotting most of his body; bigger yellow splotches on his upper left head, lower right jaw, right shoulder, left pec, right wrist, left hand, left hip, right thigh, left calf, and right leg; red scars, a small one on the left of his lip, two on his right ear, four in a downward movement on his right shoulder, one on his right arm, one on his left arm, a smaller, circular scar below his left pec, two bruise-shaped marks on his left and right hip/waist, five horizontal scars on his left thigh, and two scars on both of his legs where they meet the feet, a smaller one on his left foot, and a bigger one on his right. There's a purple, crescent-moon shaped mark on his right pec, covered by a yellow star-shaped mark. There are many notes surrounding the image, the first read: "Scar Reference for Sven / Info: / The small yellow dots are from the Corprus. When it was healed, the smaller bloats turned golden. Look like freckles. / The large yellow blots are also from Corprus, from larger bloats that shrunk and left golden skin behind upon healing. / Red is scarring from battle. / Purple is a birthmark." Pointing at the four scratches, reads: "These four scars came from Dagoth Ur and his fucking claws." Next to the birthmark, reads: "The purple moon shape is a birthmark. The star came after "curing" Corprus." Next to the arm scar on the right, reads: "This scar and the one on the other arm are from Almalexia." Pointing to the small scar below his left pec, reads: "From Vivec, post-Red Mountain." Pointing to the two large bruise-like scars, reads: "These two big ass chunks are from Hircine." Next to the five horizontal scars on his thigh, reads: "Self inflicted." And finally, next to the scars on his lower legs, reads: "After becoming Hlaalu Hortator, he was captured and interrogated by Ordinators for weeks. It was a traumatizing experience, but these particular physical scars haven't gone away. Limits his mobility, but he levitates 99% of the time, so it's mostly unnoticeable." END ID.]
#tw: self harm#tw: self harm scars#tw: scars#just wanna make sure i get those before tagging whatever else#my art#oc: sven#morrowind#elder scrolls#described#nerevarine#gay af to be a conjuror. what are you conjuring? other men?#he does do that actually... his favorite summon is his dremora lord friend. gay boy#the quest where folks in sadrith mora mention that neloth cant possibly be summoning ghosts in the hotel cus he Sucks at conjuration#is one of the funniest with the added impact of neloth in skyrim LMAO this why you like enchanted rods huh. cant cast a conjuration spell.#taako voice kind of a shitty wizard#YOU ASK NELOTH ABOUT IT AND HE GETS ALL DEFENSIVE. LIKE NO ITS NOT HIM BUT HE CAN DO THAT IF HE WANTED TO DONT GET IT TWISTED-#also yes sven gave himself that last name. also yes vehk tried Foul Murder 2!!!!!!!!!! and failed#for the most part tho sven isnt so heavily scarred. usually hes able to heal himself up - the ones that linger are the ones he didn't have-#-the magicka to put back together. or ones that also correlate to emotional trauma. cus im a sucker for that#just atronach things: NO MAGICKA??? OUT OF MAGICKA??? CANT RECALL OR INTERVENE????????? /NO POTIONS???????/
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Nerevarine and my still unnamed mercenary both suffered losses of home and loved ones in the Five Year War but of course on different sides. with their impressions from that experience in mind, I want to see a situation in which they meet, and they probably will during the Telvanni hortator quests if I decide to put her on Vvardenfell after all rather than the mainland? so if anyone has any suggestion for which wizard my bosmer mercenary will work for, feel free to give them. as we speak she hates her boss and sabotages them whenever she can
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I was wondering, has Wren ever met Divayth Fyr? Or any other telvanni members like Ayron or Baladas Demnivanni?
He had to meet Fyr considering the corprus thing (much to his chagrin) and the requisite Telvanni people to become hortator and fulfill the prophecy (well, to be the unwilling imperial improvisation to mirror it), so he met Aryon and wandered around and socialized in the Telvanni territory, which wasn't pleasant given how the Telvanni Are, but didn't join the house so hasn't done the related house quests.
he killed Fyr lmao. Can you blame him.
#By that point of the game Wren was just a damage sponge after the whole leveling up and suddenly having 10000 health thing#He could and did obliterate a lot of things#Wren being horrifically overpowered by the time he ended up in mournhold was hilarious because he obliterated that guy who got mad you#didn't give him money and shows up in ebony armor#he entered his fuck around and find out era I guess#wrenposting#asks
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My favorite thing about only caring about canon when I'm having fun, is that I can make every single one of my TES protags members of the Camoran dynasty, and no one can tell me "no."
Or rather, they can tell me, "no," but I don't have to listen.
Here's a few more things I can do that no one can truly make me stop doing:
Camoran "The Eternal Champion" Talin and Uriel Septim VII were lovers from 3E399 to the later's death in 3E433.
Camoran Loriel "The Agent" and Talin are brothers, though neither is the crown prince.
Loriel is intentionally named after shampoo.
Camoran Alem "Nerevarine, Hortator, Blodskall, etc. etc." absorbed what remained of Lorkhan's power when he destroyed the heart.
As did his companions, J'Dara (daughter of the current (at the time) Mane of Elsewyr), Telvanni Devyn of House Telvanni, and Telvanni Revyn of House Hlaalu.
Alem can share his godhood if he wishes. He shared it with Vivec.
Yes, the four of them are immortal. And most importantly, alive.
Sheogorath, formerly known as Camoran Theron, Hero of Kvatch is Talin's son. He had no children and no siblings.
Camoran Netheron, known as The Last Dragonborn, Ysmir, Dragon of the North, and Dovahkiin is a former Thalmor agent, though not by choice.
Also, he's Alem's direct nephew, through Alem's oldest brother, the now deposed, King of Valenwood.
#tes#arena#daggerfall#morrowind#oblivion#skyrim#one day i'll make a family tree#for my own reference if nothing else#i love looking at uncertain fates and deciding what actually happened
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idk if i’ve talked about this before or not (probably have) but in the archmagister ku timeline, she leans into her role not only as archmagister but also as hortator, and convinces vivec to stay in morrowind. together with vivec and the heads of the other houses of vvardenfell, a much more effective plan to deal with baar dau is conceived: instead of trying to keep it afloat for as long as possible, they simply mine out the meteor until there’s nothing left. as a result, the red year never happens.
as a result of the red year never happening, there’s no weakness in morrowind for the argonians to jump on. however, given ku-vastei’s eventually-nationwide ban on slavery and efforts towards reparations, morrowind and black marsh come to a somewhat uneasy truce without much bloodshed. both nations still secede from the empire during the oblivion crisis, and ku-vastei still helps to form the new an-xileel government of black marsh.
also, due to her more removed role as head of state to more-or-less two nations, she isn’t on the frontlines of the oblivion crisis and as a result does not end up lost in oblivion. she stays on nirn and raises hla-eix with ashiri-khaan, the former of which doesn’t get quite the same amount of martial training as she does in the main timeline, and mostly studies magic and politics with her parents and telvanni tutors.
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“So…Magister. Or should I call you Hortator now?”
Aryon casually pops an imported Jazbay grape into his mouth as he lounges on a chaise which floats magically over the ash and porous stone of Molag Amur. He is addressing his companion, a robed and armored Argonian who stands nearby. They both supervise the careful construction of Tel Uvirith, a new stronghold for House Telvanni. Construction was not the right word for this - growth was, as the builders slowly guide the upbringing of the giant fungal structure, tying it to certain supports made from wood, stone, and Dwemeri metal, a lattice for the mushrooms to cling to.
Ku-vastei glances at Aryon without turning her head. “You may call me by my name, Aryon. It’s a title in its own way, anyways.” She scratches the underside of her chin, her mouth reflexively opening a bit.
“Ever so self-serious, you are,” notes Aryon. “You’d have made a fine Redoran.”
“Perhaps,” Ku replies, but seems disinterested in pursuing that line of questioning. “Besides, I’m not Hortator yet.”
“Of course. The other councilors accept your claim - except for the late Therana - yet there remains the issue of the Archmagister.”
Ku-vastei grunts and nods slowly. She watches disinterestedly as the workers begin to hoist a Dwemeri beam into place to support a budding fungal growth.
“I trust you remember my advice,” says Aryon as he lazily rises from the chaise, grapes in hand, his feet landing in a soft pile of ash. “He will not be convinced.”
“I can handle him.” Ku turns her head to watch Aryon approach. “He’s an old man.”
“You’re not getting any younger, yourself.”
“I can handle him,” she repeats, swiveling her head back towards Tel Uvirith.
“Can you handle his Dremora? Remember, you must do this alone. He has no such restraints.”
Ku pauses for a moment before answering, “I’ll figure it out.”
“Very well.” Aryon scratches his bare chin in thought. “Shall I play devil’s advocate?”
Ku-vastei groans but says nothing.
“What will you do with all that power once you have it?”
“You know what I must do,” says Ku-vastei, scoffing.
Aryon smiles and glances downwards. “I didn’t mean as Hortator. I meant as Archmagister.”
“Oh.” Ku looks towards Aryon. “First of all, no more slaves. I don’t care who has a problem with it. I’ll just kill them if they object. Then I’ll -”
A yell cuts her off. Before she can even turn to see what happened, Ku-vastei reaches out a claw towards the buildsite. Then she turns, and sees lavender light supporting a half-fallen Dwemeri beam, a poor Dunmer laborer on his back underneath it.
Then the strain hits her. She reaches out her other claw to stabilize the telekinesis, but it’s still intensive. The beam inches closer and closer to the Dunmer’s face.
Then another splash of lavender light hits the beam, and it’s pushed to the side just before it completely collapses on top of the laborer.
Ku turns to the source of the magic, the councilor to her side. Aryon lowers his extended arm and smiles at Ku-vastei. Without a word, he bites a grape off of the bunch. Then he takes one delicately between thumb and forefinger, plucks it from its vine, and offers it to Ku-vastei. “Jazbay grapes have a wonderful property, best combined with Cyrodiilic garlic,” he says, “but just one of the two will do for now.”
Ku’s arms feel like scrib jelly, but she reaches out to take the grape and pops it into her mouth. As she chews on the hardy Skyrim fruit, she feels her magicka replenish deep within her spirit, sorely needed after her impressive feat.
Aryon smiles. “It is tempting to call you by the title you no doubt deserve already,” he says, watching the amazed workers whisper and point at the two of them, “but I will wait until it is finished.”
#short enough it doesn't need a readmore i think#oc: ku-vastei#aryon#master aryon#tes#tesblr#morrowind#dunmer#argonian#dwemer#telvanni#house telvanni#ends kinda weird but i never know how to end things#my writing
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cnc kink idea for nerevoryn.
they role play voryn as the leader of house dagoth not wanting to name nerevar hortator. nerevar plays a ruthless warlord who will be named hortator by any means necessary.
when he captures voryn and pins him to a table, voryn spits in his face asking nerevar if he thinks killing him will get house dagoth to name him as their war leader. if voryn dies, the leader becomes one of his many brothers, all of which are loyal to voryn. he can't kill his way to the position like he did with house telvanni
nerevar just smirks sadistically and goes "oh, i have no plans to kill you." and instead uses the knife he pulls out to cut voryn's clothes off him, ripping them the rest of the way off, and having his way with voryn. the whole while holding voryn's face and saying how voryn will name him hortator, even if nerevar has to break him to get him to do so. and then when he becomes king after driving the nords out of resdayn, he'll make voryn his personal concubine. if he doesn't knock voryn up with his bastard first
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For the dragonborn ask meme: 5, 10, 15, 20, 25!
AA tysm for asking!!!! It means so much aa <3<3 Most of it is under the cut because I've been rotating Etheara for so long-- he's really quite established :)
5: How were they perceived before their Dragonborn identity became widely known? (TW: parental death mentioned)
Okay so! Etheara is descended from my Nerevarine, so even after his parents died due to complications relating to the Red Year, he was still easily recognized-- particularly by members of the Temple & members of House Telvanni, the house that the Nerevarine had joined. Because he's the grandson of such a prolific mage (not just the Nerevarine-- his mother's magical skill was also renowned), he was expected to share that sort of power. Unfortunately, it was not hereditary. What was hereditary, though, was the total of two brain cells-- both of which he shares with his twin brother, who uses them more often than not.
Mostly, Etheara is a huge huge surprise to meet. The grandson of the Nerevarine, who had been a powerful Witchhunter; the Hortator; the founder of Raven Rock Mine; the former Archmagister of House Telvanni. Etheara is dumb as rocks, and very kind, and very strong
10. Which factions are they aligned with? Including civil war sides, Thalmor, guilds etc.
So first off. House Telvanni. He doesn't fit in very well, but he is a born House Dunmer. Also he gets invited to join it a 2nd time while helping Neloth in Solstheim (Neloth doesn't know who the fuck this guy is LMAO he barely cared about Travlse [Nerevarine] in the first place; as if he keeps track of his spawn)
But going into Skyrim, first off, he is in the Imperial Legion (only cares about the civil war insofar as the Dunmer in Windhelm are being oppressed; the larger issues escape him), formerly a member of the College of Winterhold (no idea how to put this story very concisely; I'll just say it involves Hermaeus Mora & an unlucky Maormer) and is part of the Blades (didn't really wanna but Delphine scared him). I haven't ever finished the game so maybe he'd join more?? But probably nothing criminal (I know the game strongarms you into joining the Thieves' Guild. But that doesn't happen to Etheara it happens to the dude they think is the LDB before Etheara. His name is Vanyo and I would also love to talk about him :) )
15. What is their personal LEAST favourite place in Skyrim- somewhere that annoys them, or comes with bad memories, or otherwise?
OH MAN. :)
Windhelm, first and foremost. Not only do people stare & jeer at him, but this was where Revyn asked him to find Viola Giodarno's ring and leave it in her home. He decided he knew better, and instead gave it back to her. Which, while it seems like the less-unhinged direction, her response is completely disproportionate. He carries that guilt all the way to Solitude, where he joins the Imperial Legion to try to make specifically Revyn's life easier. Revyn, a guy he spoke to maybe 3 times. And also everyone else in the Grey Quarter, and also himself should he choose to stay in Skyrim-- but tbh he doesn't really care that much about himself, and he doesn't know anyone. Soooo
Winterhold, specifically the College of. Etheara was not the hero of that story. He carries little memory of the incident, but can't help feeling guilty when he thinks of the place. Everything turned out more or less fine btw (except the people that died) but ngl the College of Winterhold serves as my main sandbox when it comes to Skyrim lmao
I actually haven't finished the game, so I don't really know all of the steps in the main quest & I don't know what lore I would impose on the rest of the world in tandem yet!! So those are the main two atm :)
20. Which NPC have they killed and absolutely NOT regretted it (excluding the major villains)?
So this is complicated! Etheara's story actually cannot be told from his perspective for two main reasons: first, at the end of his adventures as the Dragonborn, he burns all of his journals and books so that the written word can never again have such a hold on him; second, his memory is genuinely just so filled with holes and gaps, especially during the most interesting parts. When I work on his story, I tell it from the perspectives of the people he surrounds himself with-- both those that care about him, and those that don't.
If he could remember every life he took; if he could see the blood on his hands... he'd regret all of it more than anything.
But he can't. So.
25. Which of the Dragon Priest masks do they favour and wear the most? If the answer is Konahrik, pick the second favourite too. [Spoilers for Dragonborn DLC]
That's going to be Zahkriisos! If we are counting Dragonborn DLC, which I am.
First off, one of two dragon priests I've actually encountered in the game (btw I have 400+ hours in Skyrim KJDHFG I don't have any excuses. I just keep starting over when the vibe's not right)-- and the only one of the two he actually fights
But also, regardless of how much other information I have, it's going to be extremely difficult to top how well this particular mask clicks into place, lorewise-- because the Nerevarine has a fairly prominent hand in establishing the Raven Rock Mine. By eliminating Zahkriisos, Etheara is continuing his family's legacy. It's also where he finds his first Black Books, and the Horrors ensue. And the aforementioned Maormer has an extremely prominent storm/lightning theme, so to then have 50% resistance is so <3 you know??
#Skyrim#TES V#Last Dragonborn#Etheara Reverie#Skyrim OC#Original Character#THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING AAAA#[She-Ra Entrapta voice] I've waited YEARS for people to ask me about my guys#Also if you have a guy to talk about you should also reblog the post ........ No reason in particular <- loves hearing about peoples' guys
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