#I think the Nords deserve to be interesting

[kid-az]

Skyrim/Nords Headcanons (Very long)

Skyrim Headcanon 1: The coasts of the northern holds (Particularly Winterhold and Hjaalmarch) have a unique tradition in that clam and shellfish gatherers will strip most or all of their clothes and then smear themselves with the grease and oils of horkers and chub loons. By smearing themselves with horker grease, this not only traps heat within the gatherers bodies but also helps attract the small shellfish they harvest to feed their families or sell at the market.

Skyrim Headcanon 2: Those few farmers that live in Skyrim (Along with several Orsimer strongholds and Reachfolk tribes) have a complex trade system with the Giants, (Likewise for the Giants) with an equivalent exchange for whatever spiral-painted cows are sacrificed/gifted to the Giants. It is customary in Giant culture that the individual must grant the farmer that Cows weight in mammoth cheese or furs, that or they may stand guard and protect the farm during the night from wild animals.

Of course, this is just one example of the Giant and Nord trading system, and it is undeniably far more complex than that. For example, the Stormcloaks trade exchange with the Giants involves defending their mammoths from poachers. In exchange, several of the Giants are expected to help fight for the Stormcloak’s cause of an independent Skyrim. This exchange is kept so long as either party does what is expected of their duties.

Most small peoples/Giant relations often involve this trade and the duty of repaying that generosity, in whatever way they may be able to. Also, Giants do eat the Cows they are given.

Skyrim Headcanon 3: The Bards College within the Haafingar Hold actually had an extensive knowledge, history, and grasp in magic. Students learning from the college would learn spells that would allow them to pacify wildlife, boost the physical, mental, and spiritual abilities of friends & allies, and even counteract the effects of other spells and magic through their music. Indeed, even in the 4th Era where many Nords grew somewhat disgruntled by magic, the Bards College still continued on with its magical traditions, reasoning that the ability to counteract other magic with music would allow them to better fight the Thalmor.

As for instruments, members of the Bards College would use a large variety of them, whether it be the talharpa, the lyre, drums, the jaw’s harp, flutes, and musical horns. They’ve picked up a variety of other instruments and musical styles from around Tamriel as well, but they still mostly teach the traditional instruments used by the Nords. Folks from the Bards College also tattoo themselves with musical-themed tattoos, along with birds.

Skyrim Headcanon 4: Being a major hub for trade between Morrowind and Skyrim alike, the Rift has seen a small influx of creatures native to the former, in particular the Guar, (Due to their intellect, omnivorous diet, and the appeal of a giant lizard as a mount) a semi-giany (4 inch long) species of bee known as the Lightning Bees, (Make good honey for mead, but are aggressive and emit electric shocks through magic. Bards are needed to keep them docile) and the Kwama.

The Kwama in particular is a noted point of interest in the 4th era, as a third of all Kwama mining takes place within the Rift since the Red Mountain’s eruption, many members of House Hlaalu remaining in Skyrim after they lost their seat as a Great House. A breeding population of Silt Striders has also become established within the hold, snacking on the sweet leaves of the autumnal forests. They are a protected species within the Rift.

Although the members of House Hlaalu would become a house associated with the underworld and illegal dealings back in the home province, most of the members of the House in the Rift would be more honest Kwama miners and traders. Disturbed by their former compatriots openly and publicly turning to crime, these former House Hlaalu members would renounce their title, wishing to not be associated with the criminal underworld by proxy.

Skyrim Headcanon 5: Nords fucking love bees!!!

Okay, to be more specific they love bees due to their immense enjoyment of mead, so many of the southern holds would have many large bee farms. The northern holds (Or the rich) meanwhile create greenhouses to contain the bees and lots of flowers for them to pollinate and create honey out of. Riften is the unofficial capital of bee farming, as its pleasant environment compared to the rest of Skyrim allows for the largest and highest quality bee farms.

Of course, farming bees for honey isn’t their only use. For example, the Nords have quite a knack for snacking on the bees themselves, (Roasted) as they make a quick and energizing snack for both adults and children. The beeswax can be used to make candles and skin cream, the latter being of particular importance as Skyrim’s cold environment leads to dry skin. 

They’ll also use every part of a bee hive, such as bee pollen, propolis, and on occasion even royal jelly. The royal jelly is used to make particularly potent medications and can be distilled as a drink for the jarls and other high-status folk, even if it’s less sweet than honey.

Skyrim Headcanon 6: The Ice Tribes were strange, sapient constructs made of ice that suddenly appeared during the late 3rd Era, the only possible evidence to their appearance being several icebergs that drifted towards northern High Rock and Skyrim. Little is known about them other than the fact they wielded enchanted ice and snow in their battles against the peoples of Tamriel, and were also known to raise the dead as their personal servants in several different eyewitness reports.

They were invincible to all except for particularly strong soul-trapping spells, Daedric and Dwemer weapons, and certain glasses such as ebony, elven glass, and obsidian. Their undead servants meanwhile were extremely sensitive to heat, even among the fellow undead. Eventually, these strange beings would go extinct, unable to compete against the peoples of Tamriel and their superior magical knowledge.

In Skyrim, these beings were compared to the ancient ice demons that the Nord’s Atmoran ancestors historically fought against. Although notable for being called the Atmoran’s greatest opponents in the old tales, they were given no true name, only being nicknamed “The Others.”

Skyrim Headcanon 7: Eastmarch is a Hold famous for its extensive amounts of hot springs and geothermal activity, which the residents have made extensive use out of. Villagers would not take long, warm baths within the more modestly-heated springs, but they will also use these springs as a natural hotpot to steam/boil food, which saves on firewood and gives the food a rich taste. Minerals can also be harvested from the springs, though these are historically controlled harvests instituted by the Jarls in fear of the springs becoming destroyed or dried up.

Windhelm can credit its continued existence as one of Skyrim’s largest and oldest cities from these springs, as an extensive pipe system created during the 3rd Era allowed for the spring water to flow through, keeping the city warm and providing a constant and nearby supply of mineral-rich water for the inhabitants to use. Not all was well unfortunately, as the springs were historically used as a form of execution on criminals and Falmer slaves, their bodies boiled and then dissolved within the boiling pools of water. This practice has thankfully stopped.

Skyrim Headcanon 8: Historically, Nord culture emphasized the rite of adulthood through hunting. This came in the form of small groups of young Nordic men and women having to travel to the wilderness and work together to slaughter a large animal to bring back to their village/clan, either a bear or troll in most Holds. Usually, this small group of adolescent hunters is watched over by an adult warden, ready to jump in should the hunt end in disaster for them.

This practice waned during the 3rd Era, practiced only by Jarl successors or the High King’s inheritor. However, it would regrow in popularity due to the aftermath of the Great War and the nationalism of an Independent Skyrim, as well as the interest of the younger generation “going back to their roots” culturally. Ulfric’s commanders were chosen based on how well they led their comrades against bandits or Falmer.

Some of the Hold's adult rites involved hunting different animals, such as Hjaalmarch having the youth hunt a chaurus reaper or Winterhold’s rite of citizenship being given once a group managed to kill an ice wraith together. The Reach Once had its youth hunt Dwemer Anuminculi as an adult rite, which led to predictably disastrous results.

Skyrim Headcanon 9: Examples of Snow Elf architecture outside of the Chantry of Auri-El actually exist, but they are all underground! The Snow Elves alongside the Dwemer teleported most of their important buildings so that they wouldn’t get destroyed and repurposed by the Nords. As of today, these buildings are still utilized as places of worship or habitation by the modern Falmer, albeit the religion they worship is a little different, as they have included several Daedra (Most prominently Malacath) into their faith and sun worship has been abandoned entirely in favor of worshipping heat in general.

Skyrim Headcanon 10: Final and brief headcanon for Skyrim that being that Whiterun has a high werewolf population (Due to the Companions and the “lucky” few that got their specific strain of lycanthropy) but surprisingly few werewolf-related deaths. Because of this fact, Werewolves are given just a bit more respect and are given far less fear than in other regions, as many travelers and locals find themselves getting rescued from a wild animal or bandits by those blessed by Hircine.

[machineheraldbabe]

arcane, populism, and why viktor is the odd one out (yet again)

as a piltover-anti, a silco criticizer, and a pacifist, i am very very interested in how arcane presents not just the political undertones of both topside and the undercity, but the characters/dialogue through which they communicate those undertones. allow me to use some political science bro lingo to air out some thoughts.

long, long post incoming.

there are 2 ideological struggles at war throughout s1 (and i can predict that the struggle will carry over into s2): neoliberalism and populism - in their broadest terms since we're talking ofc about a fictional show dealing with surface level political machinations. by neoliberalism, i mean a focus on the social, political, and cultural structures of a polity (piltover, for our purposes) refocused into a strictly economic vacuum. and by populism i mean a unifying belief that the existing political systems of a polity fail to adequately represent their constituents, so the masses choose to rally around a specific gripe or issue, i.e., class discrimination, xenophobia toward immigrants, etc. this, in turn, forms a populist party or movement. an applicable example i can think of would be Nasser's Egypt in the 1950s.

*i know these are weighty topics with very real world implications! i just want to separate the theory to apply to our favorite fictional world.

the political struggle in question is put forward immediately by piltover, who, though presented as a technocratic state, embodies crucial neoliberal ideals emphasized especially by up-and-coming counilor mel medarda, much like how fresh-eyed american economists blew up the economic scene in the 1980s with a revival of capitalist, free market enterprise. take how she seizes the advent of hextech, for example:

she quickly sees hextech's potential yet not from the solely intellectual standpoint that jayce and viktor do - for her, it is profitable, literally and in terms of international relations. her goal is for piltover to prosper, but she has no rose-colored glasses on; prosperity means capital gain, and she's willing to override piltover's political and social systems to achieve her goal. an important caveat is that she draws the line at ambessa medarda's progression into militant authoritarianism, which deserves a whole post of its own!

piltover's populism moment will come later. first, let's unpack silco, who is probably arcane's most blatantly political figure, and a masterclass in the merits and failures of left wing, class-based populism.

silco, having been spurned by the classism and xenophobia that piltover's elite proliferate, and assisted by his rampant shimmer operation, fills the vacuum that vander's pacifism opened up. though silco's methods are unilaterally cruel (argue with the wall), the undercity clearly invested faith in him at some point, especially as vander's credibility as a guiding figure wavered over the years. he was fighting alongside vander for zaun's right to exist as their own independent body. in other words, he was uniting the undercity toward a common cause because the existing political system failed their constituents. to quote councilor shoola: "they may not be our preferred constituents, but they're still our people."

the track record of populism in our real world frequently ends in the ruin that silco himself brought upon the undercity. the kingpin is too dedicated to self-preservation, sees himself as too central to the movement, which prevents both compromise and/or a necessary armed revolt (insert your own politics about self-determination here). see italy's right wing populism party, Lega Nord, as a real-time example of this phenomenon.

but arcane makes an interesting plot decision with jayce, a very unexpected and "unwilling" contributor to piltover's abrupt dip into right wing populism. the showrunners love foils!

in arcane lore, i think it's safe to say that jayce's moniker "the man of progress" is pretty tongue-in-cheek. both he and viktor have a bemused tone about it in the run-up to his speech, and jayce is taken aback by heimerdinger's insistence that he deliver said speech. but the glowing, savior-esque imagery can't be ignored, nor can jayce's quick switch into his councilor role, no matter how reluctantly he makes it.

jayce is confronted by 2 forces that he seeks to combat in his quick tenure as councilor: internal corruption and an ineffective governing body. the latter goal is inspired almost solely by viktor, playing into jayce's naivety as a fresh-faced political figure, but this will be especially important to note later on. the innocence he offers up to mel is quickly erased, transformed instead into an uncomfortable - and inexperienced - militancy:

important in the bridge scene to my analysis is the populist "out group," or the designation populists give to those whom they actively oppose, and this opposition serves as their basis for organization. in this case, it's the undercity (keep this in mind for viktor's role!!).

jayce's combined frustrations at the unrest in the undercity and the council's (namely heimerdinger's) refusal to act, to both save viktor and to deal with the undercity's looming violence, motivates him to act like silco for a short time. unsatisfied with the status quo, he unites a likeminded individual, vi, along with the enforcers, to undercut the political system he feels is unable to represent its constituents or act in an effective manner. however, UNLIKE silco, jayce's realizes the inevitable cost the method of violence has and refrains in the end. he returns to the council and capitulates to some of silco's demands in the name of a peace piltover and zaun always thought impossible.

jinx's complete undoing of this underscores the failures of populism, especially as an extended movement over time. she wasn't accounted for. it's common sentiment at this point that she didn't attack the council for political gain. she was not invested in zaun's independence. she did it out of her and silco's twisted parental bond, and thus undid piltover's brief instance of compromise and compassion.

so...where does viktor fit into all this? and what are his implications for neoliberalism vs. populism in season 2?

viktor is neither wholly within nor wholly outside the populist outgroup - though jayce unintentionally shoves him back there in the pivotal bridge scene. furthermore, viktor also makes use of piltover's technocracy. he seems to have had a "raise yourself up by your bootstraps" history in arcane, contrary to left wing populist insistence that neoliberal ideals make this impossible.

this compounds as a double alienation for viktor, who also is straddled with the complications of his disability. a lot of his story is searching for a fellow in arms, if you ask me, and he had that with jayce until the pendulum swung, hence his return to singed.

if we stop there, viktor represents the failing of these 2 very flawed political ideologies. he fits nowhere and arcane uses him adeptly as a symbol of the failings of binaristic ideologues and systems. but let's speculate some more!

i'm convinced that viktor, due to his ambiguous 3rd party role in the story so far, will be one of the central villains (if not THE villain, if you allow me to be admittedly hopeful/biased) in season 2. consult the innumerable very well written theory/meta posts about the subject for more details, but one piece of evidence i want to focus on is this inherent physical, cultural, and ideological separateness that is innate to his character.

can we see him allying ever again with piltover, knowing that there's a split incoming? even without outside knowledge of league lore, singed's damning prediction ("if you take this path, they will despise you") cannot go unheeded. alternatively, then, can we see viktor allying with the supposed jinx-as-revolutionary side? no. personally, i see him as becoming increasingly unwillingly to compromise his a) immediate survival; and b) his ideals, especially after being endlessly sidelined in his attempts to express them in acts 2 and 3. he's also just a loner, guys.

there's some controversy on this point, but i'm convinced that the finger-printed cultists/followers we saw in the s2 trailer are devoted to viktor. starting with the shimmer addict he touched in the teaser, he is accruing a following all his own. and since noxus is here, touting their authoritarian militancy to replace piltover's outdated liberal ideals, nothing that jinx's revolution OR viktor's following does can be apolitical. to organize and to fight is survival under s2's raised stakes.

there aren't any binary spectrums when it comes to political theory in my opinion, so i am prepared to witness viktor introduce an entirely separate totalitarian narrative into arcane. where it will surely lack in militancy, it will make up for in its domination of the arcane. my biggest speculation is that, as they always do, piltover will fold and compromise at the last minute, perhaps yield to noxus, and invest wholeheartedly in taking down viktor's BBEG cultist regime. and by isolating his narrative repeatedly in s1, the writers planned this out expertly.

even if i'm wrong about viktor as third party, i like to think my observations still stand about the specific and qualifiable political divisions between piltover and zaun. the biggest hole this leaves for me is the question: will arcane ever take a stand? they seem very averse to making a blatant political statement, but i think their pervasive anti-police thread makes it clear that we're not meant to sympathize with piltover yuppies or their seasoned, jaded councilmen. let me know your thoughts!

also, as a jayce fan and a fan of arcane's overall story, none of this is meant as a CRITIQUE of him, mel, or silco. as silco said, "we all have our parts to play." i believe arcane's very greatest strength is their archetypal storytelling, and these distinct character roles are crucial to the success and vibrancy of the story.

if you read all the way to this point - ily <3

[rainpebble3]

Teaser Thursday/WIP Wednesday

Thank you to @dirty-bosmer and @tallmatcha for the tags. I'll include @vivifriend and @thequeenofthewinter for funsies

Just shared a dire chapter yesterday. Here's a teaser for next week's madness.

“Of course, Mea.”

“That’s not my name,” she snapped and tugged the edges of her cloak tighter around her to beat the chill. She couldn’t stop shivering, but that wasn’t just from the Windhelm winds. Thoughts of what could be happening in that house set her heart thundering. Had Rei confronted Calmlinde? Had he kept quiet? Nera prayed silently for the latter.

Silm-Ra moved to sit on her side of the carriage, resting his arm along the plank at her back. “Honestly, what were you thinking? You must realise how stupid you were?”

Nera shuffled away, trying to put as much space between them as possible but he followed her every move. She huffed and shrugged. “I don’t know, he didn’t deserve to be strung along with false hope.”

“Because he’s important to you?” Silm-Ra purred, flashing his sharp teeth at her.

“No!” she snarled, shaking her head and unleashing stars across her vision. She was still dizzy from burning though her magika. “He is not my friend. He’s just another dumb Nord. A stupid Nord… I felt sorry for him, he was so oblivious! So not my friend, nor is he important to me.”

Silm-Ra laughed again and folded his arms across his chest. “I’ve never seen you this rattled before, it’s interesting.”

She lurched to her feet, tempted to jump off the carriage. “I didn’t want to come here, I never wanted to set foot in this cursed city again. Ever.”

“You’ve been here before?”

Nera froze, violently cursing herself and her big mouth. Silm-Ra didn’t know her secret, unless Calmlinde had told him before. Surely she wouldn’t have. Unless Nera wanted to reveal her identity, she had to come up with a story. He looked at her, amused as she scrambled to create a lie.

“I had an unpleasant encounter with some locals when passing through from Morrowind,” she lied, her voice shaking. “It left me in a tremendous amount of pain. That’s all.”

He nodded after a moment, looking at the city. “I hear my kind live poorly here too.”

“Yes, they do. Anyone who isn’t a Nord won’t find a good life there.”

Silm-Ra glanced out at the battlements over the bridge for a few silent minutes until he shrugged. “Ah well. All the more reason to leave as soon as possible.”

She couldn’t help but scoff.

Calmlinde appeared then, accompanied by the carriage driver and her face was set in a stony mask in its Nordic disguise. She jumped into the back of the carriage and dragged Nera down onto the bench next to her. Nera yelped at the tight grip, but Calmlinde silenced her with a glare. She knocked on the side of the wood, catching the driver’s attention.

“To Nightgate inn, please,” she barked, crossing her legs. “And quickly.”

“Yes ma’am,” the driver settled onto his bench and clicked his tongue at the horse.

With a jolt the carriage took off, rolling down the road and away from the city. An hour or two ago, this would have eased Nera’s frayed nerves, but couldn’t relax, not while Calmlinde clutched her arm so tightly. The air in the carriage crackled, Calmlinde’s irritation was palpable.

Eventually she cast a spell, creating a shimmering blue barrier that blocked the driver from hearing their conversation before turning to Nera. “I hear someone was delivering bad news on my behalf.”

[nightingaletrash]

I am once again thinking about a Dragon Cult faction in Skyrim and the dragons being intelligent conquerors rather than random monsters that pop up from time to time, all thanks to Vox Machina so yeah I’m gonna ramble :p

Alduin uses Helgen as his chance to declare his intentions, that his dominion over Tamriel has begun and Skyrim will be the first to kneel. The survivors of Helgen flee and begin to spread the word of what they saw and what was promised. Skyrim is torn by the story as it spreads; there’s hysteria, there’s denial, there’s a frenzy to prepare, and a steadfast refusal to engage with the story at all. People are either terrified or they’re convinced it’s complete hogwash until they see it with their own eyes.

Ulfric knows the legends well enough to recognise the threat and the Stormcloaks are also familiar with Alduin’s story, so they take the threat significantly more seriously than Tullius and the Legion, who aren’t quite so readily familiar with the tales and need convincing by the likes of Rikke and other Nords in the ranks to treat the situation with the full gravitas it deserves. It’s a serious threat, yes, but they don’t realise just how significant Alduin’s return is and what it means for Tamriel on the whole.

During the lull after Alduin’s arrival, Mirmulnir was planning to take Whiterun for himself and was systematically weakening the city's defences before launching his assault, only to end up encountering the one person who could truly kill him. Word of a Dragonborn spreads rapidly and before long, so do the dragons. They rise from their graves and abandon their long-forgotten hiding places, and they take to the sky, intent on taking back what’s their’s.

Falkreath is the first to bend its knee because Siddgeir isn't so stupid that he thinks he can best a dragon, and surely there'll be some benefit to capitulating, just like there was when he sided with the Imperials. He'll take whatever he can get and becomes the first modern Dragon Priest, all to ensure that he retains his power as well as his life. The Dragonborn isn’t safe in Falkreath, not until it seems that there’s an earnest chance that they can best the ancient dragon that resides there. Siddgeir will always throw his lot in with the winning side after all... Whether his doublecrossing actually serves him depends on how the Dragonborn chooses to handle the situation.

Meanwhile Winterhold and Dawnstar are mostly ignored by the first wave of dragons. There are bigger prizes elsewhere. Only once the best territories have been claimed does anyone take an interest in the north, and still Dawnstar doesn’t tract much attention. Winterhold, however, finds itself in a tricky situation - the dragon that arrives is one with a thirst for knowledge. It’s shrewd, cunning, and apparently indifferent to Alduin’s desire to conquer Skyrim. It barters with the Archmage over the Jarl. It offers the College protection from the local Nords and others that might do them wrong, its own knowledge of history and magic, and secrets known only to a dragon. In exchange, they share their secrets with it and let it learn from their troves of knowledge. It’ll leave the village alone provided the people there don’t cause trouble; it doesn’t care to rule. It just wants to learn and be left in peace. It’s a deal that seems almost too good to be true, and the mages can’t tell if this dragon is just like them or if it’s plotting something terrible.

Riften is initially prepared for a dragon to arrive on account of the Stormcloaks preparing the city ahead of time. Then it storms for days on end, a relentless torrent of rain and lightning. People swear they hear a voice in the thunder as their streets flood and the Nords in town put two and two together. Some advise that they should make offerings to try and persuade the dragon to put a stop to the storm. Gold, jewels, whatever meat they can get - they offer it all if it means the storm will stop. And for a time it does... until Jarl Laila puts her foot down and puts a stop to the offerings. Appeasing a dragon won’t save them, after all. And so the storm resumes as it did before, and people are afraid and angry. But still, anyone caught making offerings is punished, and the storms grow worse with every person jailed, so people leave to seek out the beast to offer themselves in service. They become its eyes and ears in the city and report to it when the Dragonborn arrives. When they do, they’re sent to extend an invitation to Laila just as she’s requesting them to hunt down the dragon and slay it; it requests a parley in neutral territory with Laila. It’s up to the Dragonborn to decide whether Riften remains free or if it falls under the control of the dragon.

Markarth is a tempting target, but the city's architecture makes it a tough nut to crack. They have all the steel they need for weapons manufacturing, and are prepared for a siege thanks to the Civil War. To complicate matters, the Reachfolk are as much a problem for the dragons as they are for the Nords; freedom runs in their veins and they wouldn't give it up for anyone. Not for the Nords, and not for a bunch of big ol' lizards either. Any dragon trying to take territory in the Reach has their work cut out for them, both inside the walls and out.

Morthal ends up under dragon control pretty quickly, much like Falkreath. Igrod knows that her tiny community stands no chance at all, so she makes an offering just before the dragon shows up and assumes her role as Dragon Priest. But she's not simply rolling over like Siddgeir. She's biding her time and protecting her people the only way she can, waiting for the one person that can save them.

Solitude and Windhelm remain free on account of the power they've each marshalled. They're both powerful enough to ward off the threat for now, but it won't last forever. Especially if the dragons seize more and more territories.

Other small settlements fall as easily as Morthal and Falkreath, with the communities swiftly capitulating to the dragons that arrive in the hopes of being spared; Kynesgrove only narrowly avoids that fate. People were preparing to bring offerings to the Dragonmound and instead see their would-be-ruler slain once he’s barely fresh from the grave. The villagers are some of the only people in Skyrim that the Dragonborn and the Blades can trust for safe shelter if they’re passing through the area.

With Whiterun and Kynesgrove standing free, along with any other cities that the Dragonborn has chosen to liberate or has a dragon ruling in their name over Alduin’s, the dragons are more than aware that they have an adversary out there, but those that have established themselves and their territory are unwilling to depart in search of them. Instead they use intermediaries; some want the Dragonborn dead to be presented to Alduin at Skuldafn, others think they could be a useful tool or ally, while others are just interested in securing their borders against any potential threats.

[talldarkandroguesome]

27th of Second Seed, Morndas

Well, I cannot say that I am surprised in anyway, but the circus mysteriously disappeared the morning after we had attended. Apparently many people who attended found themselves light on coin and other valuable items and when the Ordinators went to question them, they only found the matted down vegetation in the shapes of their various tents.

Tel was moderately upset about it and seemed to feel responsible for not turning the thief I had caught in. I think after so much congratulations to me, they felt worse about not having simply allowed me to do whatever it was I was going to do to them.

As I had said previously, I was not about to waste my time on a pickpocket. Really those of the upper crust who lost items only have themselves to blame. Did they not have their items enchanted? Did they honestly assume that Nords would be too stupid to attempt such distraction techniques and so allowed themselves to go in without any protection whatsoever?

Do I feel bad for some that may have been of lesser means, certainly! They did not deserve that. Honestly, this is why I hate the Thieves Guild so much, they do not teach any common decency.

The Breton siblings continue to tout themselves as the great intellects who have finally solved the issue of low pregnancy issues amongst mer. I cannot tell if they are simply trying to amass as much fame and fortune before people discover their ruse, or if they truly believe that which they espouse.

As long as it keeps them out of my home, I do not much care. I hear that they are being summoned before the Grand Council to give a talk on their methods. Mother has kept silent on her opinions on this matter. She cannot be seen to be against their ideas and have voted for its use during the House Council meeting, though I suspect that she was more interested in keeping more eyes upon me.

I received a letter from Fennorian today. It was rather sad news. Devastating, really.

It seems that Count Ravenwatch has passed. I will not recount the details here, I have the letter if I should wish to remember them. Still, it was hard news to swallow, even if it explains the long absence of our communication.

News of his death makes me realize that I had thought of him in some ways as a sort of mentor. Well, not quite so intimate, though he was certainly a confidant. Verandis was very candid with me and when I solicited his advice, he gave it rather freely. I can only imagine how difficult the politics of High Rock must be right now. Such a precarious position that the Ravenwatch must find themselves in. Verandis was such an accomplished politician and able to assuage the fears of leaders around him. I can hardly see Gwendis or Adusa-Daro able to provide as much assurance. Adusa-Daro seems the most natural choice as leader of their house, but I wonder if the Covenant would allow a Khajiit, let alone a vampire Khajiit to have such power within their ranks.

I know Fennorian has elected not to step into that role. I fear he is the one most capable of being the political face of the house, yet his fear of losing control has seen him abstaining.

In my response to him I have sent an offer of a place of safety, should the political situation become too delicate there. It is perhaps overstepping my position as a Widow, but I owe the Ravenwatch much. There is much to be gained from an alliance if it were to come to it, though I know most of that house must curse the names of all Daedra given that they are bound to Coldharbour upon their passing.

Oh gods! Poor Verandis!

I wonder, would there be a way to free him, given that the Mages Guild still has a portal to that plane?

I must stop. I have more than enough to deal with in my own immediate vicinity, I need to not rush off to solve someone else's problems when mine loom so large before me.

Still, I would very much like to go and visit the Ravenwatch. Perhaps I can find an excuse to bring Sildras to High Rock. Perhaps as a family trip before Tel's pregnancy proceeds too far. I have no idea what the impact of teleportation might do on a child in womb.

So very much to consider.

[sanicsmut]

Swooooning over your last Fenn HC ask!! they were so good. Do you have anything on Lyris? She’s one of my favorites. Maybe even anything on Fennorian and Lyris’ friendship?

Okay so !!!

Lyris, my friend Lyris !!

• I like how we get clues on the character's taste and personnalities in game, even outside of dialogue

• Lyris for example, she likes music !! :o Which would be surprising for most people, because she's a tough woman, but she has her sensibility like anyone

• I like to imagine that it's sometimes Sai who braid her hair

• I had a thought that he taught her how to but, she's a nord and nords often knows how to, part of their culture you know

• Sad part, she still has bad thought about her time in coldharbour, and Sai being captive. Who wouldn't. But she's trying her best to have a new life after the whole vestige thing. Whatever happened, if she survived (which she did in my save because my second choice of who to sacrifice was Varen, the first being Abnur Tharn, even tho I kinda like this old grumpy man.) I like to think she did as she said she wanted to : traveled around the world. She deserves it.

• With Fenn ?

• At first she was doubtful, he's a vampire after all

• But after he showed her she could trust him, they became friends, like really friends

• She liked that he could be calm but also show how excited he was about his interests !!

• And he liked that she actually overcame her ideas of vampires and tried to know him

• Did I mention Fen is actually a good cook ? I don't know if it's canon or just something I imagined, but I like this idea. So I throw it here. Yes even if it's supposed to be about Lyris, freak it, I said it

• He would show her around "vampire territory" if those things even exists in TES

• Like, places where it's not really safe to go if you're not a vampire

• And she's with Fenn, so she's mostly safe (and she knows how to fight, but it's always better to avoid conflict)

BONUS

• I'm pretty sure it's canon she's good friends with the Vestige

• She often wonders if they're fine after the whole Mannimarco/Molag Bal fiasco

• If she actually get some news from them, wether a letter or just hearing about them in a tavern or something, her day gets instantly better

[happywitch416]

Food For the Dead

Old Life Festival is upon the province and with it remembering the dead. But when you have a child who is obsessed with that which is spooky, you can find yourself remembering more then just your ancestors. Elena is terrified of the dead but that means little in the face of parenting, especially when the children begin teaming up to do right by even the warriors of the dragon cult.

I am loosely basing Old Life on All Soul's Day which is a bit of artistic license but this is spawned by a very real conversation with my own spooky obsessed child and them wanting to light candles for all the dead because no one should be forgotten. They are a better person then I.

"Mama." Runa flopped on to the bar stool across the sink, waiting patiently for Elena to look up which caused Elena concern. "What are draugr?" 

"Oh. Uh." They tapped the spoon on the side of the skillet, wiggling their bare toes against the cold floor when it didn’t help them think. "Old Nords, ancient ones, but they were warriors of the dragon cults that are bound to serve their masters for eternity." 

"So, they speak Thu'um." 

Elena regarded her carefully; Runa’s brows were furrowed as she stared into a notebook after making a scribbled note. "Aye, some would." 

"So, if one came here you could talk to them?" 

"Little one, why are you worried draugr are going to come to the house?" 

"Lucia said there are draugr in the Halls of the Dead." 

"There are." 

"So, there is a dragon priest beneath the city?" 

Elena set down the spoon harder than they meant. "I would like to think there isn’t but there are many important people buried here. And the oldest catacombs they’ve found are supposedly older than the city. " 

"Potema isn’t even in those then." 

"Aye." Runa nodded hopped down from her chair and disappeared before Elena could say another word. Elena went back to cooking dinner, their brows furrowed, and jaw clenched as they hoped they wouldn’t be kept up all night worrying about draugr knocking on the door. 

It was Lucia who appeared for dinner first much to Elena’s relief, flipping through one of her latest magazines. "Lucia, why is Runa worrying about draugr?" 

Lucia’s pale brows furrowed a moment, chewing on her fingernail before brightening. "We are starting the Old Life Festival stuff at school." 

"Oh." Elena let out a sigh of relief. 

"I let her borrow my books though, they gave her baby stuff." Elena matched her scowl. "Why do some of the teachers treat her like that?"

"Because they think she isn’t capable." They snarled, pouring themselves a glass of water.

"Have they met her?" Lucia stomped her foot indignantly, the magazine in her hands crumbling in her fists. "She’s smarter than all of them, who cares if she doesn’t sit?!" 

"Well." Elena let out a tired chuckle then. "You aren’t wrong but it’s a bit more then not sitting still." 

"She only hits people that deserve it." She sniffed, setting aside the magazine to help Elena get dinner on the table. "I wish I could hit people like she does." 

Elena let out a tired sigh. "Save it until after they won’t call me to fix it okay?" Lucia laughed, ducking away when Elena ruffled her hair. "What’s the new one about? Anything interesting?" 

"Atmoran fashion is coming back into style." She grinned at her mother. "Aunt Oddie said I should dig through your closet to find some originals." 

"Ha ha, Aunt Oddie isn’t funny." She snorted. "And I’ve never been fashionable a day in my life." 

"Some of it would suit you." Lucia declared snagging the magazine to show Elena a picture. The woman was regal with the dark furs draped across her shoulders and shining metal at the clasps. "You already have the braids." 

"True." Elena gently dragged their finger down the figure, eyeing it critically. "I would not be caught dead in that floaty, not skirt thing." 

"Mama." Luci groaned. "It’s a tabard." She tapped her bright pink nail against it. "It’s not a skirt, it’s part of the shirt." 

"I’d still trip over it." Elena sang over their shoulder as they grabbed the macaroni from the stove. 

"It’d have to be shorter, or the hatchlings would get tangled in it." She narrowed her eyes watching her mother carefully. "Your favorite color is forest green, right?" 

"Aye?" Any further questioning was halted by the appearance of Sofie and Runa who were discussing the best offerings to leave for the draugr. "Why are we feeding the undead?" Elena’s heart gave a panicked flutter.

The four of them settled at the table, Runa and Sofie exchanging smiles before Sofie spoke. "Because they shouldn’t be forgotten while we remember the dead." 

Elena couldn’t decide if they were going to die from cuteness or terror because they knew children couldn’t go into the Halls of the Dead without a parent.

Elena Songschild Master List

The Witch Writes Master List

[dolce-tenebra-toscana]

La Squadra and Sanremo 2001: who is their favourite and how they act during the festival

T O M OR R O W AAAAAAAAAAA,CAN'T WAAAAAIT!!!

Risotto

Team: Elisa

Song: Luce ( Tramonti a Nord Est )

Our beloved capo is literally O B S E S S E D with the (then) young singer; to him her voice is like a light feather caressing his soul and soothing away all the worries of his life.

He is very hyped cause it's Elisa's first time at Sanremo and he wants everything to be perfect, so he can enjoy his queen's performance and give her ( from distance ) all the attention she deserves.

Risotto is the type of Sanremo's fan that starts freaking out the second the news starts talking about the event itself: starts making a list for himself to rate the looks and songs, his favourite beer and snacks are OFF LIMITS and are exclusively for him to consume during the festival and of course he gets an Elisa's t shirt (with her autograph) to parade around the lair. You can imagine his joy when her victory is yelled by Raffaella Carrà, on the Ariston Arena's stage.

Risotto is the karaoke man, so get up and grab your remote to join him screeching " SIAMO LUCE CHE CADE DAGLI OCCHI!! "

Prosciutto

Team: Gigi d'Alessio

Song: Tu che ne sai

Prosciutto is one of the less enthusiast about the festival in the team, but only because the whole deal is EVERYWHERE and he cannot watch other programs on tv ( also because that being the only television in the whole building, he has to suck it up)

Being forced to watch it by Risotto he decides to side on Gigi d'Alessio's team and with the enthusiasm of someone going to see the paint dry he says " Seeee..Vai Gigi...Fagli il culo..." or straight up yawns on the sofa.

During the week is the one that stays out of the house the most, but even when he is outside ( taking a walk or doin a mission) he finds himself mumbling the words of the overly sweet but somehow catchy song, with his deep and hoarse voice " Perchè ho perso la cosa più bella da stringere a me..."

Formaggio

Team: Alex Britti

Song: Sono Contento

Formaggio is right in the middle when it comes to Sanremo, he is happy about it but at the same time he doesn't die if he skips one evening.

His main goal is to learn as many romantic songs as possible with his guitar so he can hit on girls when he goes clubbing/partying

Formaggio usually sits on the carpet and his guitar's noise is the only sound that doesn't bother Risotto ( the capo thinks he is just as invested as he is) and at the end of the first night he chose Alex Britti's song cause

1)He likes it 2) The girls are really into that romantic crap 3) his chances of getting laid with this song (plus a made up story about his " long lost love" ) doubled up

So yeah, our favourite roman cheese man truly is something else when he play his guitar in pubs, girls swooning over him and his cheery yet seducing voice singing " Sono contento di averti accanto, nel bene e nel male per me "

Couldn't find any Alex Britti gif, sigh

Melone

Team: Fabio Concato

Song: Ciao ninin

Melone is also on the team of the least interested in the festival, but boy does he love bothering the ones that enjoy it lmao

He is the one that jokes about singers, outfits, songs, announcers...And the time he even DARED joking about Elisa well, the iron nails that spit on the couch were enough to make him understand to stop.

He finds Fabio Concato and his song decent but what really makes him " Team Concato " is the name of the song...Because is really similar to the tuscan expression " Ciao Nini" ( it means Hey dude/girl) and so this adorable purple idiot tries to find any excuse to make his teammates cringe when he horribly sings his tuscan version of the song " CIAO NINI!! LA 'ANTO STA LETTERA 'OSI!! E GLIE' UN ALIBI LA MUSIHA PE SCRIVETTI E PE DITTI POHA ROBAAAA!! "

Melone's version of the song is written parodically with the " Gorgia Toscana ", basically how i talk every single day of my tuscan life ahah And also i didn't find any gif for Mr Concato too, why Tumblr hates Sanremo 2001!

Ghiaccio

Team: Sottotono

Song: Mezze Verità

Ghiaccio, believe it or not, is another one that actually enjoys Sanremo and the 2001 edition is the one that pumped him up the most.

Ghiaccio prepares himself with his favourite " magic powder ", a bottle of jagermeister and plops himself next to Risotto ready to enjoy Sottotono and their song.

He is actually more interested in the guest invited for the occasion and, the moment he sees Eminem appear on screen, he starts jumping up and down screaming in his native dialect and clapping

The team appreciates his singing skills and actually vibe/encourage him rapping with the america artist at the beat of " The real slim Shady " and Ghiaccio is so into the moment he completely let himself go and start a whole show on the couch: where Formaggio beatbox, Illuso record him with his Nokia, Melone snaps pictures of him and Prosciutto smiles behind his wine glass while slightly bopping his head at the music.

Ghiaccio is jokingly called " Il membro scartato dei Sottotono " ( Sottotono's discarded member) and his aggressive yet weirdly sexy voice can be heard through all Vico Pallonetto with the rhymes " Hai mai dato senza ricevere, Sei mai! Sincero nei rapporti che hai hai, Dai dai!! Bye bye!! Scordati di me sai sai perché!! "

Again, no gif about Sottotono, please don't be mad at me!

Illuso

Team: Bluevertigo

Song: L'assenzio ( The Power of nothing)

Another one of the team "Daje Sanremo" but more than the performances, Illuso is interested in the outfits: he take notes, critiques everyone's fashion sense, and rant about it on his online page " Mirror Mirror on my Blog "

Illuso is already a Bluvertigo's fan and their aesthetic is one of the things he appreciates the most about the band itself; L'assenzio's videoclip to him is a very modern and unique approach to music and is actually happy that so many fresh artist can perform on Ariston's stage.

For the entire week, La Squadra can see him typing on his computer with a concentrated face and whispering the Bluevertigo's song between a sip of Fanta and an online feud started just for fun " Io ricerco lo scontro, ma conosco la pace. Pensi a quello che farai, e a quello che smetterai di fare"

Pesci

Team: Gazosa

Song: Stai con me (Forever)

Pesci being the youngest is watching the Festival for the young artists and has this naive appreciation for the winners of the " Sezione Giovani ", I Gazosa.

He can't truly shows how hyped he actually is about them winning their category ( he fears the mocking of his teammates ) so he just bops his head up and down and smiles through the whole thing and only when he is sure to be alone he starts cleaning up the room and singing " Stai con me forever!! Fino a quando lo vorrai!!" and daydreams about the day when he'll have a girlfriend to dedicate this and other songs to her...but in the meantime he just enjoys his solo performances with the broom in the lair's living room; with empty beer cans, white powder on the coffee table and a sound asleep Formaggio on the floor.

Note from Benny: I know nobody will be interested but my Vento Aureo OC is #teamGiorgia (like me this year) and her stand is called just like the song Giorgia performed at Sanremo 2001: " Di Sole e D'azzurro "

[ervona]

sending you serana and maven black-briar 👀

First impression

Serana: woagh there's a vampire in there. not a big surprise but I recall her whole look and voice was... just a confused young lady

Maven: very concerned about others poking into her business! so concerned that she hired a guy to hang around and tell you not to

Impression now

Serana: Tredayn's parallel, bestie, rival, sister, whatever I feel like. hopefully doesn't sound like she revolves around him, oh no I just made his story to complement hers! she deserves good company

Maven: very standout npc, and in Riften of all places! well, being a part of Riften, embedded in it the way she is, is what makes her so memorable. her elegant sleeves from which so much misery flows

Favorite moment

Serana: I haven't finished replaying Dawnguard but I can safely say the whole search for Valerica quest, finally getting to confront her, and earlier that point where she asks the player about their family

Maven: bullying Madesi and Brand-Shei, the way it gives a bit of insight into why you're told to do what you do in that one quest...

Idea for a story

Serana: I have many, many ideas with her, the big one is a rewrite of Dawnguard that places it earlier in the fourth era, and ends with her becoming mortal again, with the help of Tredayn who gave away his own chance for her. that's what friends in a character growth arc do

Maven: unlike any other npc that's a parent, can't think of anything with her kids! but I'd like to go into them, and even moreso her and Laila, it would be interesting to see them talk less about business, more about private life and their problems with their kids. they're powerful rulers making Riften worse but they have problems too

Unpopular opinion

Serana: she's just not that into you

Maven: basically she's a horrible person but she's a woman so that means she gets no fans. Maven I'll be there for you even if you had my character's little husband arrested to scare him into obedience

Favorite relationship

Serana: Valerica. the :(( I don't know. there's so much emotion there that spans more than I feel I should witness while playing the game

Maven: Laila. YURI!!! she's a honorary evil advisor to me. I'd love to know more about their history in which case I'll have to make it up

Favorite headcanon

Serana: she's from the time of the First Empire of the Nords

Maven: maybe she adopted her grandchildren as her own idk

[wildishmazz]

Well this got rambly

Starmania is intriguing. It has so many random elements that feel like vestigia from rewrites, and this feeling is never stronger than when listening to the 1990 Tycoon album after getting familiar with Starmania(Edition Rouge, anyhow, the 1989 version).

It's perfectly possible that Tim Rice didn't know what happened in the show and made it up as he went along, and no-one dared to correct him when he seemingly reassigned songs by including the wrong character details or hints of backstory in them, but it’s far more interesting to go from the assumption that he was writing according to a planned major rewrite that never actually materialised.

The most obvious indication of this is Nobody Chooses, because while it's understandable that Rice might confuse the fading movie star for the tv presenter or maybe even the antiestablishment terrorist mastermind, I don't see that anyone could reasonably completely rewrite a song to change it from an angry young man telling his tragic backstory to an omniscient narrator's(accurate) commentary on the doomed romantic relationships in the story by accident. Additionally, recycling Banlieue Nord as Nobody Chooses would mean that it couldn't go in the same place in the plot.

This would then explain why A Little Damage Done has a more persuasive tone to it than Quand On Arrive En Ville, adding the sentiment of "embrace the cause, we know you know we're right", and overall sounding like a direct response to the questions Cristal was asking immediately prior to Banlieue Nord, if it were moved to Banlieue Nord's position from its place near the beginning. It would excise from there reasonably cleanly - the libretto would simply go directly from Roger Roger's news bulletin about the Black Stars straight into Marie-Jeanne talking about them in the bar, and introducing them in person. The trouble would then be that they wouldn't be introduced with a bang.

So maybe they could have half of Il Se Passe Quelque Chose À Monopolis(which even scans better as "Something's Going On In Monopolis", though it doesn't actually exist on the English album), and crossfade the song into the news report, giving them time to get to the next scene.

And Tim Rice's lyrics to Le Monde Est Stone, The World Is Stone, sound like they should be in Cristal's mouth, or maybe Stella Spotlight's - it sounds less like the words of the world-weary robot barmaid who yearned to see the sun and had a hopeless crush on a gay man than the revelations of one of the sheltered, privileged women who only recently came face to face with the harsh reality of the lives of the 99%. Which then suggests that maybe Cristal wasn't going to die.

But then, Only The Very Best requires that she was. And making the last line "Oh, it's getting cold"(and including "I was immortal, til today") strongly implies that Johnny was going to die too, which he didn't at the end of SOS d'un Terrien de Détresse. And doesn't "only the very best, reasonable request" sound more like something that would come out of Zero Janvier(unholy amalgamation of Donald Trump and Elon Musk)'s mouth than street brawler Johnny Rockfort's? At the very least, you could reassign the song to the titular Tycoon and it wouldn't sound wrong.

Le Reve de Stella Spotlight is absent from Tycoon, no Dream of Stella Spotlight is recorded, so does that perhaps suggest that it was going to be cut and Stella go straight into Stone instead?

And thinking of Stella Spotlight(Eva Peron by way of Norma Desmond), Rice references her apparently famous persona "Babydoll" in two songs, You Get What You Deserve and Farewell to a Sex Symbol, allowing the inference that she was going to sing both. Why would Sadia, revolutionary mastermind, be referencing "Babydoll, teenage queen" in her introductory number, and bragging about all the different roles she can play? Seems more like the defiant declaration of an aging movie star insisting that she’s not past it to me, rather than a version of Travesti, Sadia's original "I'm trans and fuck you if you've got a problem with that" manifesto.

And then in the show generally there are the scifi dystopia elements established early on - the world is homogenised, no-one gets to see the sky any more, everyone has a number on their back(is that what the black stars on their jackets are obscuring?) - that just sort of get mentioned once then dropped. And the implication is there at the start that though the official line is that there is no crime in Monopolis except that perpetrated by the Black Stars, that official line is a smokescreen - the Black Stars may throw a few bricks through windows, and release press statements taking responsibility for any disruption, but they’re largely innocent of the crimes they’re accused of. We see them blamed for a breakdown of the ventilation system in a commuter tunnel. I mean, come on - that sounds much more like an official body shirking responsibility for an accident caused by poor maintenance by blaming those pesky ne'er-do-wells who cause havoc for absolutely no reason at all they just like chaos and certainly aren't political activists trying to draw attention to the fact that Monopolis is not "this bloody perfect town", actually, it's a "damned metropolis", a harshly stratified society with those at the bottom living in squalid tunnels where they never get to see the sky and those at the top dancing in a penthouse nightclub called "Naziland". But these things mostly get mentioned once and then never really come back.

I wish I was a better fanfic writer, there's so much here to work with.

[nientedenada]

Skyrim Anniversary Edition Book Review: The Crimson Dirks is actually really good!

Originally posted on r/teslore.

The majority of the texts added to the Skyrim Anniversary Edition are very functional bits to get you through your quests to pick up your new suit of armour, weapon, or fish variety. I had absolutely no expectations for a good book to be among the additions. And yet, a few paragraphs into The Crimson Dirks, I knew I'd found one.

The Crimson Dirks is the tale of the rise and fall of a bunch of bandits in Cyrodiil. It goes along with Kris Takahashi's Alternative Armors, and you can find and fight a lot of the named bandits to get the armor. But the story is about their life before they separated and hid in Skyrim, and it's so much fun! It's not perfect. I spotted a lot of typos and it definitely needed a copy-editor, but that's nothing new in TES books.

However, it's fresh, funny, interesting, and explores everyday life in Fourth Era Tamriel in a way I haven’t seen before. Let me quote some choice passages to encourage you to read it yourselves.

A very Dunmer form of charity:

The Dunmer had no real name to speak of. Some speculated he was once a noble, having abandoned his titles and claims for a new one. Others believed he was with the Morag Tong, assassins having little use for their birth name. Tyra, meanwhile, had first met the brigand as a child begging in the streets. The Dark Elf had fixed his blood red eyes upon this orphan girl, ashen and starved, and deigned to fill her alms bowl.

When she looked down, she found neither food nor gold, but a knife.

"This isn't a gift, little netch," the Dunmer cautioned, throat scarred with ash, "your first score belongs to me."

Some lore on the Thalmor in Elsweyr, delivered in a very memorable fashion.

"Well, the Clan Mothers are allies of the Dominion. Their eyes are all-seeing, and their punishments are known to all who hear the screams."

"And what do you think about that, furball?" Erwan interrupted, eyes focused on the Khajiit, "are you a fan of the Dominion? Do you have paintings at home of Lady Arannelya in fancy lace?"

"Khajiit does not care for politics," he said, raising the pot, "He is sorry to have brought it up."

A most embarrassing encounter for a Thalmor Justiciar

A Thalmor Justiciar, flanked by two guards, had dragged the Nord butcher from his stall, accusing him Talos worship.

The Justiciar tore open the butcher's tunic, but found only an Amulet of Mara. The butcher replied with a toothy grin, asking the Thalmor if she was spoken for. The Justiciar, digusted, tossed the butcher into his stall before returning to her patrol.

Lots of general hilarity

"I only lost because you distracted me," barked Antonius, "with that inhaling and exhaling thing you do with your nose."

"Do you mean breathing?" asked Edward.

"Yes, that."

And

"The trail ends here," Aesrael said, motioning to the trunk of the looming oak.

"Maybe the tree ate him," quipped the Bosmer, his Argonian partner Pale-Eyes trailing behind him.

"You jest, Ehlhiel," replied Pale-Eyes, "but in this one's village, there is a story of a Hist, corrupted by magic, that would kidnap and devour the hatchlings."

"Okay, I have to ask," the Bosmer replied, "Why are there so many stories about monsters that eat children? Are parents so inept they have to constantly frighten their young into behaving, or are children really that delicious?"

"I feel like as a Bosmer," countered the Argonian, "you would know better than I."

There’s a meandering fun plot involving framing the Thalmor, acquiring a cursed ring, messing with the Penitus Oculatus, with a cast of eccentric characters who deserved better than to mostly end up dead in Alternative Armors quests. But once you’ve read their story, you can go on a detective trip around Skyrim figuring out what happened to the characters after the story ends.

[1000fiction]

Day 10: Frottage ft. Brynjolf

Relationship:  Unspecified

Species: Unspecified

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sexual Daydreams

Summary: Yet another cause for celebration has attracted quite the crowd to the Flagon, and whilst they’d rather be in each others company in private, a little party isn’t going to stop the Guildmaster from causing some mischief with their second in command. 

The Flagon was alive, truly alive. The alcoves were filled to the brim with trading merchandise, tables had been added to compensate for the sudden influx of patrons. Vekel’s bar had never been so busy, nor had his stocks been filled with such fine goods. The guild in every aspect had its soul back. Not a single member could’ve asked for more.

That was until the Guildmaster returned not a month later, a leather backpack stashing some of the rarest treasure few had laid their eyes upon.

With assistance from Vex, the legendary Crown of Barenziah had been reformed to its mythical glory, and now took pride of place amongst the guilds other keepsakes, right behind the Guildmaster’s desk.

What had once been a gloomy area due to Mercer's consistently foul mood, was now a reminder of what could be achieved. All thanks to the efforts of Brynjolf’s protégé.

The title of protégé had long been swept aside, however, as many would argue the new Guildmaster had far succeeded their second in command in skill - Brynjolf being one of few to disputed such a statement - but none could deny their shared title of lovers, for it seemed neither made an effort to disguise their relationship.

Not ones to miss a celebration down in the sewers, the thief of the hour and their second in command were in attendance at the central table, the Guildmaster nested in Brynjolf’s lap, bottle held loosely in their grip, and an easy smile upon their face as their free fingers stroked idly through fiery red hair.

“Never dared to dream the guild would come this far love,” he voiced, head rested against their shoulder as he sat in quiet contemplation, his slightly inebriated mind drifting through the feats and foes the pair had faced together “couldn’t have done any of this without you. Though I suppose I deserve some credit for finding you in the first place.” The Nord chuckled, hand idly running across his companion’s thigh.

“Very funny, lad.” They jested, poorly executing his accent as they ruffled his hair. “Though I suppose you’re right, I’d still be picking pockets and roaming free without you.” A pinch to their rear silenced them rather quickly. “Fine, fine, I’d be nothing without you, the guild would be nothing without you, you’re a hell of a man.”

“Oh, say that last part again, I think I like it.” He chuckled, nuzzling into the soft skin of their neck.

“You’re a hell of a man, Brynjolf, my man, to be exact.” Their tone dropped, sultry and smooth and their fingers trailed down to graze over the fine hairs at the back of his neck, using the leverage to pull themselves against him, strategically rubbing against his crotch.

His eyes widened as he looked them over incredulously, gaze flicking to the company they were surrounded by. He took note rather quickly that none were at all interested in the love birds, not when they had the choice to watch Delvin attempt to drag Vex onto a table for a dance. Though, perhaps they were all waiting for the fight that was likely to ensue.

The thoughts and fears of wondering eyes were swiftly cast aside, however, as his lover spun in his lap, resting their elbows on the table, thus slotting his already stiffening cock snugly between their buttocks.

He tested his grip and their hip, tugging and releasing in time with steady rocks back and forth. Attempting to look nonchalant, he looked towards Delvin’s drunken performance, though that was exceptionally difficult given the rising tightness in his leathers.

The Guildmaster on the other hand, seemed to be coping just fine – to his annoyance – as they had now begun conversing with Vipir and Cynric who neighboured them at the table. Though he barely registered what they said, his lover’s words must have been truly enthralling for neither of the lower members noticed the slow gyration of the Guildmaster’s hips, an action strikingly similar to ones performed between the lovers in the privacy of Honeyside. They had both been naked those times – he thought, bitterly – and as he recalled, his cock had also been buried in them, his name rolling off their tongue in amorous euphoria.

It was that moment he realised he would not be receiving such sounds. No words of praise, no unbridled cry of his name at their climax. It was torture.

Delicious, torture.

The groan he let out was intentional. Honest.

Vekel seemed to be the only one that noticed the strange occurrence, and in a shockingly quick moment of genius, Brynjolf snatched up his companion’s now empty bottle.

“Another round of your finest Vekel, for the finest thief in the guild, and for the finest thieves in all of Tamriel!” The flagon erupted in cheers, despite his hopes of distracting the revelers with alcohol, Brynjolf now felt far too many eyes on him.

“To the guild, to nocturnal, and most importantly, to getting drunk blind!” The Guildmaster leaned back into him, taking the new beverage from the passing barkeep, and raising it in toast, expertly covered his now prominent bulge with their rear in the process. All around took a swig of their drink before going back to enjoying the festivities.

Not long after did Delvin dive headfirst from his stage, giving the pair the perfect distraction, one the Guildmaster in its entirety.

Hands on his knees and feet firm to the ground, they bounced on the straining bulge of his cock, the contact sending torturous shockwaves through his aching shaft. He moaned again, though he was smart enough to muffle it, his face buried in their neck as stray strands of his hair tickled their cheek. They laughed merrily; any who happened to glance over would surely mistake their lustful disposition as an alcohol-fuelled daze. He felt them clench, his hands straying to their ass to feel the muscles tighten and release. By the nine he wished for nothing more than to take them there and then, bent face-first into the table, onlookers be damned.

They’d fucked several times in risky places, including the cistern, but never had he entertained the idea of having people intentionally see them. He surprised himself by finding the thought obnoxiously appealing.

He could imagine it now, his cock balls deep inside them, his hand at the back of their neck pressing them into their desk, their moans and gasps echoing around the cistern with each of his thrusts. Niruin would miss every shot at his target, Thrynn would miss every swing at the training dummy, and Cynric would no doubt break several lockpicks as he desperately tried to focus on his practice chests. All others that occupied the space would have to bury themselves in their beds, or watch.

It would certainly stop the lecherous gazes some of the newer recruits dared to throw at his lover, as all would finally be able to see how good he made them feel. And how no one would be able to stand up to such a performance.

Such thoughts swam in his mind for Gods only knew how long, and without his consent, his fingers dug harder into their hips, and he began rocking up into them. Thankfully, his conscious hadn’t left him entirely, for he didn’t move with the intensity he would usually use to chase his release. His lover helped him further – thank the Gods! – by clutching their stomach in theatrical laughter, the way their body rocked and quaked causing delicious friction against his oversensitive cock.

Brynjolf came hard.

Were it not for the quality of the Guildmaster uniform, he would’ve ripped holes where his fingers clung to them, their leathers bunched in his fingers as he slowly came down from his high, his mind still racing with unsavoury thoughts, and blood beading at his bottom lip from how hard he’d bit into it.

He felt them shift, felt his cum smearing against his softened cock within his own breeches, and felt the warmth of their side once again resting against his chest as it had been before this encounter.

“You’re lucky Vex finally decided to start a fight, otherwise someone surely would’ve noticed how dazed you’d become. I would’ve assumed you’d plain of existence, were it not for the way you desperately attempted to rut into me without someone noticing.” Their breath fanned his skin, cool against his burning cheeks. They lay a kiss to the flushed skin, gently smoothing back his stray hairs from his eyes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Can’t tell you I’m afraid, after the stunt you just pulled, I don’t want to go putting ideas in your head.” He chuckled, pulling them in for a sparingly chaste kiss.

With an arm wrapped securely around their waist, he was finally able to lurch forward and take his own renewed tankard from the table, clinking the metal gently against their bottle.

“But I do have a mind full of ways to punish you for all this. So long as you have a plan to get me out of here without everyone seeing I’ve soiled myself.”

[boethiah]

I JUST BEAT BLOODMOON! even tho i beat tribunal and morrowind once before i never beat bloodmoon bc i got stuck at the werewolf raid on skaal.

anyways sucks that theres no real cool lore or plot to bloodmoon since its so straightforward. hircine is neat looking i guess but kinda a bitch. the most interesting idea is that the bloodmoon happens once an era, which means its happened at least twice before (idk how pre-first era time works) and itll happen again. i also like the idea that the last 3 protaganists of tes games sortof become bound to some daedric lord. for nerevarine hircine promises revenge and azura has cast you aside, kvatch becomes sheogorath but not entirely of their own will imo, and dragonborn joines the collection of hermaeus mora

anyways, what d oyou think happens to the nerevarine after the events of bloodmoon? i know that people say nerevarine left for akavir to do... something but people say a lot of shit. i saw someone say that the nerevarine was put down by the blades or helseth since they outlived their usefulness, but idk if i like that

you beat bloodmoon! congrats!! that dlc is such a son of a bitch

i like bloodmoon as a post-game palate cleanser; after the absolute chaos of morrowind and tribunal i think the nerevarine deserves to get away for a bit and fuck around in a place that has nothing to do with anything. i do think solstheim/bloodmoon has some really cool worlbuilding lore (no game does nords better than morrowind does nords), but you have to dig for it. and good point about daedric princes, too-- the vestige even gets involved with meridia, so eso continues the trend.

tbh the "nerevarine was assassinated by the blades" was my theory :') (inherited it from some other fanfic authors). i'm a big tribunal apologist and it's impossible for me to overlook the fact that the nerevarine is an imperial pawn sent to morrowind to overthrow their government and increase the empire's power (tribunal is... rather blunt about this, with the helseth vs almalexia conflict). so there's a sense of tragic poetic justice in that ending, that the nerevarine would be done in by the empire, just as the empire used them to do to the tribunal. but i understand why others wouldn't like that theory, as most people are more attached to their nerevarine characters than i am to mine lol... as with most of TES, ultimately there's no "correct" answer and you just gotta pick the version you like

[talldarkandroguesome]

20th of Sun’s Height, Middas

The Count had too many additional invitations yesterday to speak with me. And there was a great number of tasks I still had to see to with my having limited my staff’s hours. So I took the opportunity to catch up with as much as I could and was able, with much determination, to completely clear my desk of the piles that had grown up there. I even had the chance to pen some personal letters, which I so rarely have had time to do.

Sildras continued to ask after Gwendis so I asked one of the Count’s servants if the lady would not be available to speak more with Sildras. She agreed to do so and so I had Sildras go to one of the chambers on the northern side of the east wing, where the natural light is low and the stained panes of the windows further diffuses it so that it has the feel of a room with low candle light even at noon. For this reason the room is not often used during the daytime, but having given an excuse that the lady is prone to migraines aggravated by bright light, it was easy enough for there to be little question to our use of it.

I made sure that Gwendis’ servants were on hand to bring her her beverage of choice and I stayed at hand, but working on going through some of the many briefs of Council business as they carried on about Valenwood, how it was to move to High Rock, and general observations about Bretons.

Gwendis seemed to take notice of my relaxed nature and how I was only supervising enough to be in the room, but not paying close attention and when the time came for Sildras to return to his studies, Gwendis stopped me on the way out to tell me she had taken notice. She assured me that she meant no harm to my son and that she appreciated his company. He was a queer boy, so far beyond his years in the subjects of his curiosity, but that she was grateful that he was not suspicious or fearful of her. 

We spoke about Nabine and Kuna and Cariel. Not the full breadth of the situation, but the basics. I left out the Namira cult, said only that it was a religious group she was drawn towards. I also admitted that Sildras was, generally shy in the face of strangers, even be they Dunmer. There was something about her which he seemed to inherently trust and that I was attempting to foster, to a safe degree, the ideal that all persons, regardless of race or the land from which they came, were ultimately people just like him. He had grown up with Argonians. We had traveled to Elsweyr and stayed with my husband’s clan and Sildras had really enjoyed the time learning about a new way of life, his Khajiit siblings teaching him language, games, and culture. He had been amongst Nord children at times. Throughout, I emphasized the importance of judging a person by their words and actions. That was where you learned who someone was.

Clearly Slidras had judged her to be kind and full of interesting information. And I tended to agree. I thanked her again for speaking with my son, I knew that it was not usual when being a guest in a foreign land to expect to be sharing personal stories with children, but that she was doing both he and I a great service in doing so.

She hesitated, seemingly  unsure of how to respond and settled with a simple you are welcome. I smiled at her and told her that, even without the Count, she was always a welcome guest in my home here or in Davon’s Watch. Should she ever need sanctuary, no matter the cause, I would be grateful to provide it for her. She was now, and ever, friend of our family.

I do not think she realized precisely what that meant, but I had the paper drawn up later in the night and had it provided to the stablemaster to see that it was set into her saddlebag. Let her find it as they are on the road and know then what it means.

It just goes to show that if you put a little faith into someone deserving, they will return it in kind. I can only hope that she and the Count speak enough that her words might give the Count a push to agree to my request. We shall see.

[reachfolk]

hi idk why i cant change which blog im using to ask so heres my sdv one JGHFKIDJDN but!!! my skrim blog is coleenofthemoon so u can tag me if u like!!!!!

ANYWAY i just wanted to talk about miraak now that i am free from no simp september after i failed like an hour after sep 1

btw this has soulmate stuff in it....

so my oc is this shifty little half-bosmer, half-breton conwoman with a lot....of names so basically she goes by arpina sun-stealer but her real name is a nord name (heehee lore) and she's the guildmaster of the thieves' guild and the listener of the dark brotherhood!! in terms of backstory this totally fits in but on a moral level it gets kinda fun because she's very soft and patient and exudes big Robin Hood energy THOUGH it is very clear that she Can and Always Will Be A Ratty Bastard despite her very fancy upbringing!!

all her life she's had a strange scar on her arm and when she meets the greybeards they read the name for her and they recognize it, but they can't tell her much bc soulmates are a dragon thing, not a human thing. eventually she meets miraak after getting harassed by his cultists and she is FURIOUS and HORRIFIED and naturally she's very upset but when she meets him she feels genuine sympathy for his plight and just can't bring herself to kill her soulmate.

miraak for his part is justifiably very angry abput being transferred over from one jailor to another, but he doesn't know that arpina's his soulmate until they go and take down alduin, but from his freedom from apocrypha to their entry to sovngarde he learns to get along and eventually starts enjoying their time together.

ANYWAY THATS ALL AJDHSKJS if i said anymore i'd spoil the fic......

thank u ur so cool<3333

ask game: send me some info about your tes oc and their love interest (incl. mods) and i'll send you a song about them!

@coleenofthemoon THANK U FOR THIS, I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK FOR MIRAAK BC I LOVE HIM AJAKSKKD also i rly would love to hear more abt arpina if u wanna dm me ❤❤ i think she'd get along with my girlie alexandria !! (shifty ratty bastard with robin hood energy and a fancy upbringing?? literally same hat)

anyway disclaimer that there is NO consistent genre here. there's like some old jazz and some pop, it's all over so im sorry about that 💀 i wanted to include some oldies in there because miraak is an old ass man and he'd vibe to it /j

i don't want to set the world on fire by the ink spots | spotify. youtube.

"i've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim; i just want to be the one you love"

i was an island by a.w. | spotify. youtube.

"i can't do this alone anymore 'cause i'm no good on my own anymore. what did I do to deserve this? what did you do to me?"

killing me softly by the fugees (cover by joseph vincent) | spotify. youtube.

"strumming my pain with her fingers. singing my life with her words. killing me softly with this song"

livewire by oh wonder | spotify. youtube.

"oh won't you be my livewire? make me feel like i'm set on fire? your love will take me higher and higher"

past lives by BØRN | spotify. youtube.

"here's to our past lives, our mothers, and fathers. our love is deeper than the oceans of water"

guillotine by jon bellion | spotify. youtube.

"There's bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway"

where you let it go by i the mighty | spotify. youtube.

"i will love you even if we're just energy out in the universe"

under my skin by jukebox the ghost | spotify. youtube.

"i can feel you laughing under my skin and the happy palpitations are making me grin. you know it fills my heart with music"

i love you, i love you. it's disgusting by broadside | spotify. youtube.

"you rescued me when my mind was in a prison. you set me free when no one else would listen"

"murder" he said by betty hutton (cover by dinah shore) | spotify. youtube.

"finally found a fella almost completely divine, but his vocabulary is killin this romance of mine"

(ok this one is 100% a joke, i just can't imagine miraak who spent gods know how long in literal oblivion even remembers what it's like to feel the touch of a woman, he a lil lost on how to romance arpina 🤚😭)

[venomasides]

Zu’u Alduin | Day 27

I finally finished a monster of a story that got way longer than intended! Alduin was severely lacking in a villain speech, so I had to fix that. Takes place in an AU where the world eater and ulfric decide to tagteam. 

The sky over Windhelm is black. Flurries consume the slag-laden streets, white powder dusting the furs and shoulder pads of the hundreds gathered at the doors of The Palace of Kings. They crowd like horkers upon a rocky shore, children pushing through the legs of their elders to get a better look, dunmer and argonian packed behind as stormcloak soldiers crowd the frontmost rows. 

Ulfric Stormcloak stands on the highest step to the palace. His right hand, Gunmar, stands with him. 

He is silent, face as dark and stony as Windhelm itself. The crowd is restless. 

What’s going on?- mom I’m cold- must be a special occasion to let the swamp lizards in- is he throwing the dark elves out?- better hurry it up, I’ve got soup boiling. 

The jarl of Windhelm takes a deep breath. This day would come eventually. 

Gunmar leans in, whispering just above the winds. “Are you sure about this, Ulfric?” 

He isn’t, but what difference does that make? 

“And what, send my people home? After packing them in the streets like horker meat and promising answers? It's much too late for that, Gunmar.” 

“Very well.” 

His lips pulled into a brooding frown, Ulfric clears his throat. His people deserve answers. They deserve to know the true weight of their service, their destinies, the path that they travel with him. 

The hard part about legends is that they’re rather unclear. Truths are harder to stomach than ideals. 

“Sons and Daughters of Skyrim,” he starts as he always does. “For as proud as we are to fight for this home, our home, war does not come without its costs. You have much to weigh on your hearts, beyond freedom from those who wish to take Skyrim away from us. I know this. I’ve lived with it since I was a boy. 

“But when I was a boy, there were no dragons. Legends were only stories for our fathers to reminisce. In this age, the legends have come true. They are as true for me as they are for you, and all men that hold the Stormcloak banner. 

“In our pride, we forget the very stones we stand on, placed by our ancestors. Built to honor Ysgromor, bolstered to honor avatars of the gods: Dragons.” 

Murmurs break out among the crowd, men and women whispering to one another in confusion. Some nod in excitement, absorbing every word, perplexed. Far behind the nords, elves shift uncomfortable on their heels. 

Wuunferth, just beside Galmar, whispers accusingly “What exactly is the meaning of this?” 

Whether or not they know their destiny, they’d best accept it. 

All of them. 

“Dragons do not have to be our enemy.” Ulfric squares his shoulders. “For we and they are one in the same: We seek freedom, to take back what is rightfully ours! We are more than legends! The stormcloaks are here, now, and the season unending ends TONIGHT.”

The jarl of Windhelm clashes the hilt of his battleaxe to the ground. A signal to Gunmar, who hesitates as he brings the battle horn to his lips. 

Brassy echoes ring through the ancient city, dancing in empty streets. The haughtiest of men raise their weapons with vigor, unknowing of shadows lurking in the mountains, and the women nervously glance between soldiers and their children. 

Silence falls. A sleeping city waits. 

In the distant night, wings beat against the wind. Wings as black as the night, joined by others. 

LOK  - VAH - KOOR 

The sky erupts with ancient words, clouds splitting and bursting like the eruption of the Red Mountain. Moonlight pours onto the land, winds blown far in a single burst as dresses and capes flutter in the force of the blast. A little girl, Sofia, latches onto the leg of a beggar. 

Roars fill the night. Two dragons emerge from what remains over the clouds, flying down into the city. Their shadows obscure the moonglow, twisting over the faces of horrified townspeople, some screaming, others running. The tremble of dragon landfall brings them to their knees. 

Two dragons land upon roofs parallel to the palace doors, hanging their wings over the walls. Each are as large as they are spiny, scales ridden with ancient battle scars. Survivors of the dragon war. 

Guards stand terrified, weapons frozen in their hands. Bowmen draw arrows with trembling fingers. 

The voice of Ulfric Stormcloak rings out among the people, “STAY YOUR WEAPONS.” 

Such a command fails to reach all; arrows fly from archers too far into their shot. The dragons flinch at the volley, merely annoyed with arrows that fail to pierce a single scale.

One scoffs. “Nikriin joor. Drog-ill bo! Your true High King arrives!” 

The other dragon, horns as curved as the crescent moon, shakes his head. Thu’um thunders from his maw. 

ZUN - HAAL - VIIK

A chorus of weapons clatters to the ground. Ulfric stares into a sea of white faces, frightened into submission. Some of the warriors wear expressions as stone as the Jarl’s own, their steel resting in the snow.. 

The shouting dragon returns attention to his brother, voice smug. “Tinvaak rel,  Golznokliz.” 

Dragons brothers aren’t unlike human brothers, it seems. It would be more amusing had they not reduced his people to playthings. The sons and daughters of skyrim are still, and those from other lands yet remain, stilled by fear and awe. 

‘Victory’ doesn’t last; the dragons silence, bowing their heads for the arrival of their king. 

A heavy shadow glides through the night. Larger than the others, it briefly overtakes the city, witnesses swallowed in the darkness. The massive black dragon flies low, allowing the moon to return. With several forceful wingbeats, he comes to a rest atop the Palace of Kings, gazing down upon the Stormcloaks with gleaming red eyes. 

The black dragon’s scales shine like polished blades in the moonlight, ornamental spires decorating the beast from his head to his tail. His wings, armored as the rest of him, stretch out comfortably against the roof, shingles and snow falling from the disturbance 

Alduin the World-Eater rests before them.

Golnokliz crawls gracefully along the wall, dropping like a bat at the palace gates. His maw forces the fleeing people back in, threatening their necks with his teeth. 

With a voice as deep as the rumbling of mountains, rough as blade-sharpening stones, the Lord of Dragons speaks. 

“Zu’u, faal thur se lein, daal! Krosis fahdon, speak first. Tell your people the truth.” 

His people are terrified, more now than they’ve been since the war started. Ulfric looks back to them from the World Eater, sure to keep his chin high. Their leader doesn’t cower. Their leader doesn’t lie. 

Ulfric puts his axe blade to the ground, resting his palms on the end of the hilt. 

“Helgen was not an accident.” 

Utter silence falls among the fearful chatter. Only the cries of babes permeate the shock, too young to understand. 

This is all for them, isn’t it? 

“Geh. Indeed my fire burns in favor of the ancient ways. Silence now, Midjoor.” 

Babes stop crying. Not a single peep sounds from the courtyard, only the heavy breathing of dragons and nervous feet shifting in the snow. Alduin raises his neck, horns jagged as peaks against the moon. He sits as distinguished as a jarl in his throne. A growl clears his throat. 

“Sons and daughters of Skyrim... This is what you call yourselves, vahzen? It seems the years of my absence have stretched beyond your fragile memories. I am Alduin, First Born of Akatosh, rightful ruler of the place you call Mundus. Zu’u rel! I am not a myth!” 

“So the legends are true?” A brave soldier says from the crowd, louder as he draws the great dragon’s attention. “You’ve come back to end the world?” 

Alduin glares. 

“Nahlot Joor! Your ancient heroes are liars. Ages ago, atop the Monahven, I battled with the Tongues. They postponed fate with an Elder Scroll, only to sing songs of my felling! Lo Nikriin!” The world eater adjusts himself, raising his head higher. “Zu’u los unslaad! I am real.” 

“Well, we can see that-” Ulfric’s elbow meets Galmar’s gut before his housecarl can say any more. 

In the night, more massive figures twist beyond the boundaries of the courtyard. Dragons gather for their master’s speech, nesting on rooftops like great eagles, eyes upon the largest, darkest dragon. 

“Nunon. I am the means to end your… season unending, as the ancient joor call it. With the beat of my great wings, I bring the beginning of a new era! This land rots and the hand of elves and human empires, does it not? Paak! The Dov and the Stormcloak seek one simple thing, that of which I offer you: Freedom from the ulse liz that have taken OUR ancient home!” 

Against all odds, all expectations, heads raise in interest and awe at the words of the wyrm. The hearts of his soldiers are no longer chilled. Some raise their fists and cry out in agreement. 

Those furthest in the crowd step back into the shadows. 

Dragon wings raise up, moonbeam’s shining through the filament in muted, glowing colors as the beasts raise themselves in power. Alduin himself rests on two legs, wings gesturing outward like painter’s hands at the world she shapes with words. 

“No longer are we enemies! Kein oblann- The Dragon War is long over. Together, my Rage and your people shall set a fire that will drive our enemies to destruction, and take back what is rightfully ours!” 

“Together, we are DOVAH. We ARE the rightful rulers of Tamriel, and I am THE FIRST BORN OF AKATOSH!” 

Alduin spreads his wings to their fullest, shadow swallowing the people of Windhelm, wings grayish red in the light. He roars his words, the other dragons following suit. None are great enough to overpower his own. 

The bravest of the nords cheer, clapping their heads and clamoring their weapons together. Undoubtedly, the world eater is thinking of what fine servants they’ll be. 

This is what’s best- this is what must be done to save Skyrim -but still, the dread pools deep in Ulfric’s bones.