#aretino

[enfant--terrible]

aretino on language & authenticity (trans. paul bailey)

[roseofthenight4444]

In Episode 6, Part 3 of Modded Skyrim, I go to Ivarstead and talk to Klimmek in preparation for eventually seeing the Greybeards and then I continue the beginning of the Dark Brotherhood questline! I try to kill Grelod in my own way but it, uh... doesn't work lol. I'm glad to be back after so many months away from making videos!

[themonsterundermystairs]

when i was very new to skyrim, i consulted with the internet to try and figure out which child i should adopt. and i saw many people downloaded mods to adopt aventus aretino. now, the issue was i hadn‘t started the dark brotherhood questline yet. and so i somehow confused him with proventus avenicci. so i thought there was a large group of people who decided to adopt the steward of whiterun

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Ulfric Stormcloak: I went to Riften recently and a seven year old smoking a cigarette told me to go impale myself.

Lydia, leaning over to whisper to Leara: I thought Aventus quit.

[oblivions-dawn]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕪 ℚ𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 & 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕠 ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖

a Skyrim journey, 57/?

[fine-arts-gallery]

The Death Of Pietro Aretino (1854) by Anselm Feuerbach.

[spooky-donut-ghost-house]

Astrid: "Grelod was a kill that you stole from me and my associates."

Cidhna: "Yeah, well, maybe you and your associates should act faster next time because everyone in Skyrim fucking knew what Aventus was doing."

[thatforestprince]

The Death of Aventus Aretino circa 4E 201

[girlboccaccio]

I started this at October 2022 and left to rot on a folder until now - but now I have photoshop that stopped functioning and I finished it with paint - the low effort is real.

Btw: italian literature authors matrix - from medieval to early modern || 20th century authors coming soon

edit: a little explanation for anyone who isn’t an expert of italian literature

bitch row: Dante Alighieri, Alessandro Manzoni, Giambattista Marino, Vittorio Alfieri

thot row: Giovanni Boccaccio, Torquato Tasso, Ugo Foscolo, Pietro Aretino

bastard row: Pietro Bembo, Giovanni Verga, Giosuè Carducci, Carlo Goldoni

baby row: Francesco Petrarch, Giacomo Leopardi, Ludovico Ariosto, Angelo Poliziano

[odyelec]

Please… How long must I do this? I keep praying, Night Mother. Why won't you answer me?

[gothimothi]

This was made with Aventus meeting Cicero for the first time in mind.

[bethrnoora]

thinkin bout aventus aretino....in the canon of hiisi and anfisa's stories he finds his way to the dawnstar sanctuary five years post-skyrim and hiisi, impressed with his moxie and sympathetic to his plight as a fellow orphan, takes him on as an initiate. i think he becomes one of the speakers of the new black hand down the line

[herhighness-thequeenofhearts]

Skyrim Main Questline: ok so you have to save the world, but there’s a civil war going on; so you could also deal with that first

Me, making a direct beeline to Honorhall Orphanage:

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Grelod the Kind: Have you ever experienced any major childhood trauma?

Aventus Aretino: No.

Grelod the Kind: I can fix that.

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday

For Chapter 18 of Best-Laid Plans. Just doing some good works around Windhelm and showing sweet Erik around the less-fortunate parts of town. Miranja's take on the Aventus Aretino situation. Could damn near be a chapter in itself.

Tagging @dirty-bosmer @guarmommy @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @sunny-d-anomaly @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

^0^0^0^0^0^

Miranja hugged Quintus tightly for a long moment. “Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do. I mean that. And if his condition changes. I would like to try to be present for his funeral when the time comes.”

Quintus nodded, following his guests to the door, and closing it behind them as they exited.

Miranja was somber as they took the way back through the cemetery toward the docks. Before Erik could speak to her, a passing guard commented about the Aretino boy. Miranja’s mood shifted visibly, and a determined look came into her eyes.

“I’ve been hearing about this kid since the day I came to Skyrim. It’s odd that after months, no one’s done anything to help this kid. We’re about to go right by his house. Maybe I’ll check in on him.” Although Erik had claimed to be open-minded, he obviously retained some of that Nord superstition. He tried to protest, but Miranja had made up her mind. “You don’t have to go in with me if you don’t want to,” she told him.

“I’m not letting you go into a potentially dangerous situation by yourself, Miss Miranja. I’ll do what you’re paying me for. I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

She had to pick the lock to get into the house, and as soon as she opened the door, their nostrils were assailed by the smell of decomposing flesh. But it wasn’t the boy; they could hear his frustrated chanting and cursing from where they stood. Miranja gagged and turned away toward the outside, sucking in a deep breath of fresh, cold air.

“Die, Grelod! Die!” Miranja nearly jumped out of her skin at the shout, and she took another deep breath and held it before hurrying up the stairs.

“I’m… so tired…” the boy whimpered to himself. “How long do I have to pray?”

It was quite chilly in the house, and Miranja dared not wonder how bad it would smell if it had been warm. Surely the jarl’s people would have tended to the boy’s mother’s body after she died, right? What was this nauseating smell?

“Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.” The bloodchilling prayer was accompanied by repeated thunking sounds, and when the pair finally reached the room where Aventus was performing his ritual, Miranja was stunned. Here was the source of the rotting smell: decaying human body parts. It was warmer in this room because of the circle of candles, and the scent of the hot wax did nothing to detract from the stench. The thunk was the sound of Aventus wearily stabbing the disintegrating flesh, the tip of his blade catching slightly in the floorboards with each blow. Aventus was tearfully complaining to himself now about how tired he was, asking why the Night Mother wasn’t answering him.

Miranja nearly wept at the thought of some stranger doing this ritual with the intention of having her life snuffed. To see this child performing the ritual… what sort of horror must he have endured at that orphanage? Where and how did he get the body parts? This was serious, gruesome business.

“By the Nine…” Miranja murmured in horror. Behind her, she could hear Erik vomiting into – well, hopefully into something. When she tried to take another breath, the smell was so bad that she gagged again, but the boy was on his feet as soon as he heard her voice, jumping for joy as if he hadn’t just been on the verge of collapse a moment ago.

“Are you okay?” Miranja choked out, trying to take shallow breaths.

“You came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood! I did the Black Sacrament with the body and the… the things. I prayed and prayed, and the Night Mother finally answered me!”

“Oh, no, no, no, I’m not who you think I am, young man.”

“Of course you are! I prayed, and you came, and now you’ll accept my contract.”

Aventus told her about his mother’s illness and death, and how he was sent to the orphanage in Riften, and how cruel Grelod had been. Miranja agreed that someone who could be so inhumane to children who had already lost their parents and had no one to love and care for them deserved a terrible punishment, but she was not an assassin and wasn’t sure that she could kill someone who wasn’t actively threatening her life. But Aventus wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she agreed.

“Please hurry,” he begged. “It’s lonely here, and even though I hated Grelod, I really miss my friends there.”

Before she left, she had Erik open some windows and helped Aventus fill a burlap produce bag with the grisly items from his ritual. She found Aventus’s mother’s cleaning supplies and cleaned up the blood stains from the floor. Reminding the boy to close the windows again in half an hour or so, she took the bag with her and put it in a large trash receptacle down at the docks, where it and all the other trash would be taken by ship to be dumped far out in the Sea of Ghosts. Erik took the whole bucket, keeping it upright even when he added it to the trash bin, knowing the cold weather would freeze it solid. They were both relieved to have that experience behind them.

[owlfluffy]

my fave Windhelm orphans!!