#corva aemilius

[isamajor]

Turning back accompanied by the dog, with a heavy heart at not being able to return to my native province, I come across a fight between these Thalmor assholes and soldiers who seem to me to be from the dissident anti-empire faction called the Stormcloaks.

I freeze. These elven armors... Like in my memories and my nightmares. With each blow they inflict on these Nordics, with each spray of blood that stains the ground, I see again my neighbors, my family succumbing to the soldiers of the Aldmeri Dominion.

Crippled with fear, I crouched behind a rock, praying to Lady Kynareth that she would send a mist to conceal.

The elves won, although outnumbered. As soon as they left, I approached, trembling, the men who had fallen into a pool of blood. I shiver in the silence. My healing spells remain in vain, I can no longer do anything for these men. I close their eyelids.

I come across a piece of bread sticking out of a soldier's bag. My stomach growls furiously. Filled with shame, I opened this dead soldier's bag, found bread and an apple there, which I promptly devoured. I try to tell myself that this guy didn't need it anymore after all, but I feel like I taste blood in my mouth. A few coins sparkle at the bottom of the bag. I grab it, trembling. It's wrong what I'm doing, robbing a dead man.

But if I want to go home, I have to become someone powerful. And without money, I will never be able to do anything. I promise these soldiers to avenge them one day, at the same time as I will avenge my family.

I leave again, moving away from the roads for fear of meeting the Thalmor again. I come across a house in a remote place, on the side of a hill. It is occupied by a woman named Angi. She offers to warm me by her fire and also to teach me how to shoot a bow. She gives me a simple wooden bow, but effective for hunting or defending myself. I grant him the blessing of Kynareth in return.

Angi pointed me in the direction of the nearest town, Falkreath. I can easily see it below the mountain. If only I could be an eagle, avatar of the goddess Kynareth and let myself soar down...

But I trudge down the mountain, careful not to break my neck. Surprised by the rain, I took refuge in an old stone building. I quickly realize that I am in a necropolis. In general these are connected to the temple of Arkay so I believe that by crossing it, I should logically find myself in Falkreath.

What was my terror when I saw the dead rise up, chase me and try to kill me! Are all Nordic tombs like this? I had no choice but to use my magic to push back these undead and turn back towards the exit.

Exhausted, dirty and trembling, I managed to get out without too much damage and resigned myself to taking the road to get to town. Night was falling. All I hoped was not to run into any vampires along the way...

I arrived safe and sound at the town inn. The first thing I asked for was a place to wash. I felt downright disgusting. Once clean, I sat down at a table and ordered a meal. I was starving. But as soon as I was seated, my neighbor at the table began to try to start a conversation. Was he trying to hit on me?

[isamajor]

I'm glad I didn't get lost during my escape. Or was it because I was getting closer to the border that these guys gave up on me? A little more, and I will touch the land of Cyrodiil, which I have not seen for more than 20 years...

The border, finally! Disheveled, my thin bundle on my back, I must be sad to see. But I remain a priestess of Kynareth, I should be able to enter Cyrodiil without problem. Maybe these guards will even help me?

“I want to cross the border and return to Cyrodiil.” My words collide with the heavy, closed wooden door of the border post. The border is closed and I now need official supporting documents. Obviously, as I had not informed my temple of my 'detour' through Cyrodiil, I have no papers. I could very well have been a bandit who robbed an honest priestess to pass herself off as such to these guards.

I dare to ask half-heartedly, “And what could convince you to let me cross?” I see the officer snickering. If I were famous enough for people to hear about me in the depths of a fort lost in the Jerall mountains, there, perhaps, it would be easier to let me pass and for the legionnaire to act as guarantor .

I exclaim despite myself, “But I am the heiress of the Aemilius family!” which made the officer's eyes roll up to heaven.

In his eyes, I was the complete stranger. Even the prestigious name of Aemilius was now a thing of the past and the power of my family was definitely over... There was a time, under the Septims, we were a high-ranking family and my father told me with a laugh that I I may have had a tiny drop of dragon blood in me, because my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother was the daughter of an emperor. But now it was all just wind.

I no longer have to hide behind the name of my ancestors. I need to build a reputation for myself. To be strong and recognized by my peers. And become powerful enough to return home and reclaim what is rightfully mine that was taken by those damn elves.

The stray dog eventually tracked me down. He lies down at my feet, as if I were his forever mistress. Despite the traces of blood in his fur, he seems to be in good shape, which relieves me. Let him accompany me, together, we will do great things.

[isamajor]

My name is Corva Aemilius. I am a priestess of Kynareth and I come from High Rock on a pilgrimage to see the Gildergreen in Whiterun.

But I don't plan to return to the Betony temple. I wish to return to Cyrodiil, my native land. I am a Great War orphan and was raised by distant relatives in High Rock. I hate the elves and what they did to my family. I don't know if my desire for revenge is compatible with the life I have dedicated to the Lady of the Winds. I want to go to the Imperial City first. See where my birthplace was. If anyone still remembers the Aemilius family. See everything the elves took from me.

I come across three sacred stones. I feel the power emanating from them. I approach that of the Mage, my birth sign. I feel its energy flowing through me.

Pursued by wolves, I manage to take refuge in a small camp against a cliff. It seems deserted. I approach the fire. It feels good after a day of walking in the cold. It's still summer but the evenings are already very cool in this province. And I know that the closer I get to the Jerall Mountains that mark the natural border with Cyrodiil, the more bitter the cold will be.

I hadn't heard them approach: the bandits who owned this camp. I tried to parley, they opposed my prayers with their axes and daggers. Wounded but alive, I was able to take refuge in a cave not far away. I had just enough strength left to heal my wounds...

Exhausted, my dresses sticky with blood, I ended up leaving my shelter to continue on my way. The road takes me to the town of Helgen. Finally, what's left of it. So was what they said in Whiterun really true? That Helgen had been completely destroyed by a dragon?

[isamajor]

On my way, I pass near Fort Neugrad. According to my map, this is the last fort before the border. From a distance, some arrows aim at me and I have to hide behind a rock. Bandits, more bandits. This region is definitely infested with them. When I hear them coming towards me running, I know I won't be able to escape. I know how to make some flames. I hope it will be enough against these guys, I don't even know how many there are.

They are numerous and well armed. I put all my strength into these flames and the smell of burning flesh makes me retch. Suddenly, a stray dog rushes into the fray, attacking my attackers. Brave dog, man's best friend. Between the two of us, we defeat enough bandits for me to escape.

I'm covered in blood, I don't even know if this blood belongs to me or not. My head is spinning, I feel every beat of my heart in every blood vessel in my body. I try to heal myself but my Magicka reserves are empty. And above all, I hear them behind me. They are chasing me. I hope the dog made it out...

I run out of breath without looking back. I cut through the snowy thickets, I jump on the slippery rocks, I just want to put as much distance between these guys and me as possible. Flee. Always run away. I am as helpless as I was as a child when the elves ransacked the town, burned my house and massacred my family. It was war. I had managed to escape with my grandfather, but he was injured and old, and he died shortly after we arrived in High Rock. Tears of rage veil the landscape. I'm only good at running away.

[isamajor]

Corva Aemilius, my Imperial mage. She is an orphan of the Great War and was sent to the temple of Kynareth at a young age to become a priestess. She has a fairly visceral fear/hatred of elves, due to the trauma she suffered as a child. The civil war in Skyrim pushed her to question his priesthood and take charge of his destiny, in search of his past and that of his family. She will confront her fears through new experiences with people who would make her change (or not) her views on the world.

She is an expert in Restoration spells but is moving more and more towards a mastery of fire spells, more in line with her character.

Of all my OCs, if I had to make one follower, it would be her. I image it with a quest for self very centered on the civil war raging in Skyrim. She might have sympathies for the Stormcloak cause and their desire to direct their own destiny ; but also, she could research her cosmopolitan roots as a native of the Empire, wanting to feel and to be a part of it, and learn and recognize that not all elves are evil and are also the first victims of the Thalmor.

[isamajor]

Modern-time Skyrim :

Lucien Flavius, Rosanyor (bosmer OC), Kaidan, Corva Aemilius (imperial OC), Auri, Serana, Sholeen af-Rasa (redguard OC), Inigo.

Pose : Bored Youth by @radioactivedotcom

[isamajor]

Corva Aemilius

[isamajor]

My three dragonborns / skyrim OCs

• Sholeen af-Rasa, a Redguard warrior

• Ros Anyor, a bosmer archer

• Corva Aemilius, an imperial pyromancer

[isamajor]

Artbreeder version of my TES (Skyrim) OC : Corva Aemilius.

Race : Imperial (Nibenese).

Class : Mage (Healing + Fire Magic).

Born in 4E170 in a wealthy family in the Imperial City, Corva lost her home and most of her family during the sack of the Imperial City in 4E174. She was raised by distant relatives in High Rock, where she became a Priestess of Kynareth. But catching up with her past and wanting to show the world the Aemilius family can reborn of its ashes, she began a life of wander. The necent war in Skyrim offered her an unusual and cynical opportunity : a lot of corpses to fleece of their mortal possessions (and coin) they don’t need anymore. She hopes collecting enough wealth to be recognized as the last member of the wealthy Aemilius family, and rebuilding the family estate back in Cyrodiil.

[isamajor]

WIP(s) Tag Game

Rules : Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs (or as many peeps as you want, really- ‘tis just for fun!) 

Tagged by : @hikarinokusari

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