#dagoth gares

[bydogalaxy]

That's the first part of the answer about Dagoth's relatives.

[aladaylessecondblog]

so I have this sticker on my laptop and it's on the right side. I'm right handed so it has faded a bit except uhh

Spewing corprus

[comradeacerbus]

Another Sneak Peak at my Upcoming Animatic Posted on Ko-Fi!

There are a bunch of other images, including ones that are colored, as well as a progress report, posted exclusively on my "Fren Tier" over on Ko-Fi. If you wanna see them and more WIP peeks, be sure to head there and subscribe for me. Every little penny helps a bunch ;u;

[wormart]

pov: you just completed Sixth House Base

[angiemaniac]

I thought we could join him when I first played the game. And I legit went. "Oh neat?? We can go to the mountain and talk to him?"

Naww. Dagoth Gares said we weren't cool enough to join.

[bretongirlwrites]

‘You have not wasted your time, I see,’ said Caius looking me up and down.

I wondered what he saw, and what he had heard: knew I’d made waves, in some circles: but knew not that it had surged up to my very face: wondered if I was blushing; wondered if I’d paled for lack of sun, in Vivec’s damnable indoor cantons; wondered if I was cockier, more confident, more Hlaalu; until at last, I remembered my ruffled dress and my heavy satchel, and setting the latter down, followed it into a chair. 

‘You were right,’ said I, ‘that Vivec is where things happen.’

‘Well, just make sure it is not too many things,’ said Caius: ‘you have proven yourself in the art of speechcraft, and in a good many other things which I did not require of you; but now it is time to get out that tuppence dagger.’

‘Already!’ said I: ‘am I to kill the midges hatching from all the marshes?’

Caius grimaced. ‘I will see what I can do about an upgrade. In the meantime, I want you to read this. Mission report from Buckmoth, – by Ald’ruhn, you know.’

The thing was very Legion: which is to say, it was all figures and half-sentences, weather reports on a par with injury reports. There had been a patrol out by Gnaar Mok, a routine sort of thing redoubled with reports of suspicious activity near a cave to the north. The locals reported smugglers, it read: no smugglers were found. Activity found to be corprus monsters, cultists and Sixth House priests. 

‘The stories of the bases are true, then?’ said I: ‘Gods help Gnaar Mok.’

He only went for his reading-glasses and invited me to turn the report over.

Three men in; one man out. Instructions from Dagoth Gares, the High Priest, requesting the audience of someone called Lunette. Further enquiries needed. Two men dead on-site; one later, of the blight.

‘This is terribly flippant,’ said I shrinking in my seat.

‘They have asked for you by name,’ said Caius: ‘proof if proof were needed. Probably. Anyway it would be unwise, I think, to keep Dagoth Gares waiting.’

‘You’re sending me in!’ I cried: and threw the papers down on the table. 

Vivec seemed so airy in comparison, that I was stifled; that I must shuffle in my dress and wish layers were not all the rage; Vivec after all, had been my field, – but this! – in all the time I’d spent there, in all the time I’d spent cultivating renown and infamy both, I’d forgotten this, the mission: in all the time I’d spent being my someone else, I’d forgotten the other someone else that Caius expected me to be. I’d forgotten, – in short, – that I was a damn Blade.

‘Not alone,’ said Caius sighing: ‘Buckmoth will be ready this time. But you need to go with them.’

Three men in; one man out. 

‘Is this all you have to show for yourself,’ said I: ‘after a month! is this all your research, – is there no better way, –’

I had been enraged at his flippancy to match the report: but found in looking up, that I’d quite misjudged it. That the house was filled with papers; that there were letters still unread in the rack; that the bed was unmade and hardly slept in. That Caius himself, – had procured himself a new pair of reading-glasses; that beneath their rims, was a deepened frown on his brow; that his eyes were bloodshot and rubbed, – that there was a fading red line at his collarbone, and to hide it, he’d put on a shirt. The shirt threw me so wholly, that I must bend towards him and apologise. 

‘You must realise,’ said he tiredly, ‘that I have not wasted my time, either.’

‘I trust you,’ said I at last: took up the papers, from where I’d thrown them: and feeling the tip of my scabbard ever-present at my thigh, leaned over frowning likewise, to read them, again.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Trauma ask game for any OC of your choosing: 2, 6, and 17!

This one's going to be a long and detailed one due to the first question XD. I appologise. 2. Any interesting scars? This one's going to involve some art since Josh is covered in them. It'll make the post longer so just a warning. Also one of his scars requires a self harm warning. I've left that one until last. I've also just placed REDACTED for plot points I haven't published on Ao3 yet.

Starting with ya boi's face. There's a few iterations of face scars for him as time passes. Starting with pre-Corprus-

He has two, one that cuts through his left eyebrow (cuts from his eyelid to just below his hairline). He got this due to a skull fracture at age nineteen. Essentially REDACTED happened and he had an unexpected reaction, which led to REDACTED slamming his head into a mahogany desk because he ruined the REDACTED and that shit is worth more than him! He was eventually sold to REDACTED who ran a Camonna Tong affiliated syndicate in Cyrodiil. Or as he writes in his journals-

"Teldryn Ensirhaddon-Sero is worth precisely 700 drakes. A good price - for a kid, or so I am told."

The second one cuts across his upper nose bridge and ends around his left cheek. This is a result of a failed escape attempt whilst he was being moved from the Imperial City Prison to a carriage destined for the Gold Coast. He was hit in the face with the pommel of a sword and the impact broke his nose. It then got infected in the 8 weeks and repeated reopening of the wound from subsequent beatings whilst he was chained to the floor of a ship.

Next is face scars post-Corprus.

More or less the same, but we add a third scar to his left cheekbone the cuts into his hairline. This is the result of the successful excision of a small tumor.

Post Kogoruhn-

He's broken his nose for a second time and should have his second nose scar that runs in the opposite direction of the first. This is a new application of one that is already present in his Dragon Crisis design, I just hadn't figured out how he got it. Decided with this piece. Next is post Morrowind main quest.

He adds a series of mourning scars to his cheeks to commemorate his late husband. This also involves shaving his head as a part of the ritual, hence the shorter hair (this is circa Tribunal which is a good year after).

Here he is right before the Oblivion Crisis.

And after, where he re cuts the scaring. Dragon Crisis and post Red Year.

A few more added, mostly a diamond shaped mourning scar near the outer corner of his eye and a notch taken out of his ear from when he was thrown in Windhelm's dungeon. Though he's been pretty lucky with not getting more scars, that all ends with- Post Dragon-Crisis

Josh gets attacked by a REDACTED and gets his face ripped open. The scars actually stretch right across his torso, but face wise it effects his right side. The mauling lost him half of his right ear and part of his left. It also effects the muscles in his mouth, namely that half of it is paralysed. He's more self conscious of that than anything else. Alright, body scaring time! Pre Corprus

Mostly it's down to a few shiv slashes from his time in prison. He's got one along his right side that's from a REDACTED who tried to REDACTED, leaving him bleeding out behind a tobacco drying shed. He's got one on his upper thigh from trying to scale a fence.

Thems Corprus.

This is where most of his scarring comes from and I've added to the design since August.

The scaring covers most of his body, with the start point being his left forearm. The first tumor grew from the point where he was grabbed by Dagoth Gares. The scars are the result of the extensive and horrific attempts made by Divayth Fyr and his daughters to prevent the tumors from regrowing. This resulted in the repeated removal and cauterisation of the tumors as they grew back. Josh's Corprus scars stretch from his left arm, a warped and gnarled hand print. This scar isn't connected to the rest on his body but it is one of the worst. The main scar stretches over most of the right half of his body. Starting from his chest, it travels up, along his shoulder and up his neck before curving around his back and along his left shoulder. The large burn on his chest is the worst of it. The removal of a particularly large mass from his chest resulted in the almost complete removal of his right pectoral muscle and the birth of a lot of lame "one nipple" jokes on his behalf. He has a significant weakness on this side as a result of that muscle being removed.

That scar travels down his torso before spreading out along his thigh in another large scar, though this is mostly a surface burn. The scar reaches his toes and the deformity in his foot resulted in the removal of his first and second toes as well as part of the ball of his foot. He wears a prosthesis that he designed himself to help himself walk. Without it he can't balance and requires a crutch.

Like the scar on his cheek, he has a few smaller excision scars. One on his right hand, and another on his elbow.

The scar is technically dead tissue and oozes a strange substance (congealed blood) if cut. Part of the ordeal involved him lost in a dream sequence where he technically accepted Dagoth Ur's offer. He has two identical brandings on his palms as a result.

He has a few scars just from what he does for a living. Almost as soon as he got off the boat in Seyda Neen he found himself getting stabbed. He's got a slash through his left shoulder, two on his belly, and one large stab wound that saw him almost bleed out. There's an arrow puncture on his left flank from that time he got swindled.

Teldryn, when facing Dagoth Ur, managed to get crushed under the hand of Akulakhan as it fell into the lava beneath Red Mountain.

Corprus did something to his body. It was stronger, technically, but he didn't heal well. He left that battle with his pelvis broken in a few places as well as fractures in both femurs. When it became readily apparent that he wasn't going to die from the injury pretty much anyone on Vvardenfell who knew the healing arts tried their hand at mending the bones.

Some priests from Vivec City had an idea that involved physically realigning the bones before healing him with magic. He has two long scars on either hip as a result and one along his back. It took him a long time to learn to walk again and the injury still gives him grief. He can't swing his legs outwards and therefore can't ride a mount.

By the Dragon Crisis, he's added a crushed lower leg to the mix after he has a section of a ship fall on him. He's lucky the same priestess who pioneered his first surgery lived in the same town two hundred years later. Even if she wasn't his greatest fan. After the Dragon Crisis.

The guy's been mulled by a dragon. He's kinda upset about it since it affected his face so much. Those scars do reach across his torso, though.

The ring finger scars (Self Harm Warning)

Josh has two sets of circular scars that run around the finger that he wears Moon-and-Star on. This happened at a breaking point for him where he attempted to sever Indoril Nerevar's connection to him by removing the ring. Remove the ring, remove the problem.

Unfortunately it's not quite that simple, the ring is fused to his finger via some sort of magic that no one understands. He got the brilliant idea to amputate the finger. So he got drunk in an alley behind a tavern in Kvatch, took his dagger out and got to work. Turns out his bones don't just slice off like that and ends up passing out from drink before he makes any actual progress. There was a lot of blood.

He was found by a friend, who quickly became something more before he was taken in the Siege of Kvatch.

6. Whats their greatest fear?

Answered here. Short answer, that time will claim what he's built.

17. Do they have any pets?

Josh wants a Nix-Hound, but he's never had a pet before. He thinks a Nix-Hound will make him look badass in a "guy gets a doberman" way.

His girlfriend has rabbits...he tolerates it.

[azures-grace]

Requesting info on the 6th house au you were posting about bc yo that sounds cool

You can't see it through a screen but I'm like

Actually physically vibrating.

I came up with this AU over a year ago and it was basically "what if Alexi (my Nerevarine) just. Joined the 6th House instead of killing Dagoth Ur?"

The timing of WHEN she joined has changed a bit (from right before the fight to when she meets Dagoth Gares) and the REASONING has changed a lot (from "I don't actually like Morrowind, fuck them dudes" to "I have 0 support system and have a child and I've been sucked into a cult") but the very very basic premise is the same.

It was initially my crack AU where I couldn't tell if I wanted to ship Alexi and Dagoth Ur or not. And now it has like... Dementia metaphors. How did this even happen.

Anyways, the story ACTUALLY follows Alexi's daughter (who's never been Dagoth Ur's, no matter when in this AU's history you look). Her arc used to be centered around a lot of confusion as to why people hated her, and why things were happening, etc etc. Now she's actually gonna do something about it in the end. I'm gonna have so many random thoughts at the bottom of this just. Smushed in.

It also went from Armina being the one with zero support system to now she has an adopted sister and also a best friend/love interest when she's older. Terastelle Telvanni (sister) save me.. save me Terastelle Telvanni...

Anywho, the story has like... 2 main plots: Armina learning her dad is ✨terrible✨ and Alexi progressing through Corprus and becoming Nerevar (and losing Alexi). I will just say, though, to Armina and Tera, since they're actually IN the cult, Dagoth Ur is not a menacing figure until they know what's going on outside the mountain. I'm writing a scene where Armina literally drags him around. He's not Dagoth Ur to those kids, he's just dad.

Anyway, Alexi holds the Tools of Kagrenac (from the original au) for the most part, and she used them to manipulate the Heart to make sure her children wouldn't get Corprus (side effect was about a generation can't get it because she didn't know how to specify well). Alexi, however, DOES get it, and it leads to her physically and mentally becoming Nerevar, if that makes sense? The way it affects her is it morphs her body to be more similar to his, and it degrades her mind until she's left with only his memories and personality. And her kids have to watch it in real time 👍.

Anyway, back to the main cast: Armina, Terastelle, and Teldryn Sero. The last one was not planned.

All three represent both the main 3 star signs, as well as the Good 3 Daedra, AND they fall into "bad Daedra" counterparts later

Armina is half Bosmer and half Dunmer, and she's the Warrior and representation of Mephala (cause she's in a web of lies) and she falls to Clavicus Vile in a search for power to destroy Dagoth Ur. She fights with a big ol' 2-handed sword.

Terastelle is half Dunmer and half Altmer, she's the Mage and the representation of Boethiah. My violence wins mage <3. She falls to Malacath because of how she's treated in the cult (not as badly as those outside of the mountain, but less well than Armina, because even though Armina isn't a full Dunmer, she's also Nerevar's child, so she gets a pass). Tera gets motivated by vengeance after she learns her parents were murdered by the cult. This goes interestingly for her. Idk if she gets really hurt by it or not, but she's very scorches earth about "no Dagoth survivors" just like how her family had no survivors.

Teldryn is the thief who represents Azura, and he's the only full Dunmer in the gang, but he's from outside the mountain. When he's introduced, Blacklight is the most recent addition to the house. He falls to Sheogorath (seeking a middle ground led him to insanity or something, idk). He fights with pretty much his normal fighting style from Skyrim, which is pretty mixed. I need to develop him more in the context of the AU, but I'll get to that after this.

Anywho, random thoughts now!

As the Warrior, Armina protects the Steed from the Serpent, and Alexi's sign is the Steed 👍

Both Alexi and Armina are trying to save the people they love, in different ways, and in the end, both fail.

Is my HoK still Sheogorath or is it normal Sheo?

Armina can manipulate dreams which is part of what pushes her to be Dagoth Ur's favorite child.

The way the story is written changes as Armina grows up and then learns more about the cult. Slow-burn horror 👍

I get to write Clavicus Vile at some point, I'm excited.

Armina asking Alexi why she doesn't wear layers and Alexi trying to find a way to answer that isn't "because I don't expect to have skin for much longer anyway”. The answer she ends up going with is "Mountain's too damn hot" and then starts crying whenever her daughter leaves the room

Alexi's character in that AU is so interesting to me

Like, she's technically placed very high in the hierarchy, probably second to Dagoth Ur himself, yet she's got next to no power because those she loves would be in danger if she tried anything

Anyways, I'm writing for this, drawing for it, and I'll start posting more stuff once I have the first bit of the story written and the portrait finished. Have a Tera for your time <3

I love you, Terastelle Telvanni...

[ansu-gurleht]

i want to incorporate the names of dagoth gares’ spells into the fic but i can’t think of any way other than him just shouting the name of the spell as he casts it which would just make the whole fight so fucking goofy

[vosh-rakh]

There is a body in a coffin, but unlike in the dreams, it is not hers. This gives her no relief. It is a blessing that the coffin remains closed, but a necessary one. His body is too horrific for any of them to stomach.

They hired the Imperial priest Aunius Autrus from Wolverine Hall to give Malcius his last rites, in the Cyrodiilic tradition. Also present was Nibani Maesa, who quietly invoked the names of Daedra he didn’t worship. But her presence gives Ku-vastei small comfort, and she is clinging to any comfort she can find.

They had decided to bury him in the northern Ashlands, far from civilization, to avoid anyone digging him up and spreading the divine disease. Aunius complained about the trek from Sadrith Mora to this isolated yurt the entire way, but has settled into his duties as officiant of this funeral. 

Llethym had complained, too. He had walked alongside Qismehti on her guar to ensure that the coffin-laden wagon arrived in one piece. But now he is quiet, free from the curse of his quick wit. Qismehti is, as ever, inscrutable, solemn and slow to speak. Her face is the same stolid mask.

Aside from the priest and wise woman, only Ashiri-khaan speaks, and, having known Malcius the least - and also owing to her nature - she is irreverent and restless. This agitates Ku-vastei the most. Doesn’t she realize what had been lost? Doesn’t she feel it as the others did?

Of course not. She wasn’t roped into this silly charade of incarnation, this game of the gods. Ku-vastei can’t bring herself to resent her, though. Instead she aims higher, and points the blame at Caius, then higher, laying it at Azura’s feet. She feels agitated that Nibani dares invoke her name here, over this corpse.

But as much as she wants to cling to it, anger becomes a slippery thing. She can’t even be bothered to direct her wrath towards Dagoth Gares, or Dagoth Ur. All she feels is the hollow in her chest, burning like a lung without air. 

Do they know? she thinks. Do they know he’s really gone, for good? She has no faith in any afterlife. She has tried, several times, to muster it. But every time she comes up short. Now she must contend with a life without him, her comrade, confidant, best friend. It’s a miserable life, and she can’t fathom living it. 

Just as she’s about to collapse into her bones, just as the floodgates threaten to burst -

She doesn’t notice Ashiri approaching until she’s standing right in front of her, her breath tantalizing Ku’s scales. “Ku-vastei?”

Ku is too tired to be startled. She looks around: Aunius and Nibani are busy comparing religions, but Llethym and Qismehti glance their way. Llethym whispers something in Mehti’s ear and chuckles emptily, but Mehti socks him on the shoulder for it and admonishes him. 

She rubs her eyes and answers, “Yes?”

“Come with me. Let’s get out of this dreary place for a moment.”

Before Ku has time to answer, Ashiri has grabbed her by the wrists and is pulling her outside the yurt.

The night is moonless and dark, the outside of the yurt lit only by two standing torches by the flap, rolled open to admit the breeze. Ashiri drags Ku as far away in these dangerous Ashlands as she dares, and at last they come upon a cairn, a stack of stones marking some important place. 

“What is this?” Ku-vastei asks. She’s seen cairns like this one before; they are often markers on paths to important places.

“Be careful, dear,” Ashiri says, pulling Ku back. “Don’t fall in.”

Ku-vastei tilts her head and obeys. Then, curious, she casts a night eye spell.

There’s a six foot long and six foot deep rectangular hole in the ground here in front of the cairn. As Ku raises her head and looks around, she sees more cairns - hundreds of them.

“It’s a graveyard,” Ku-vastei notes, somewhat shocked at the number of burial plots.

“Yes,” Ashiri sighs, “where else would we hold a funeral?” She kicks the cairn at the head of a nearby plot; it stays perfectly put. “And it’s not just any graveyard. It’s mine.”

“Yours?”

“My clan is buried here,” Ashiri says plainly, without emotion. “I buried them here. Each and every one, nearly one thousand years ago.”

“Oh,” Ku-vastei says, unsure if she should offer condolences.

Ashiri laughs, noticing. “It was a thousand years ago. And they were s’wits, one and all. The only ones who didn’t deserve it were the children.” She waves Ku over to the cairn she kicked, and kneels next to it. Ku follows suit. “See the etching here? Old Velothi writing. Well, ‘writing’ might be overgenerous.”

Ku-vastei sees three small markings underneath a name carved in an angular Daedric script, faded to near-illegibility by time and ashstorms. “Three years old?”

“The small ones mean months.” Pivoting quickly, Ashiri rises and approaches another cairn, beckoning Ku to follow. This one has another name Ku can barely make out, and a series of markings underneath.

“Is this like the Cyrodiilic numeral system?” Ku-vastei asks. 

“Close,” says Ashiri, smiling. “The iya represents one month. The jeb represents one year, the cess represent three years, the ekem represents thirty. The oht represents one-hundred. So this gentleman, our last ashkhan’s father, was -” Ashiri paused to allow Ku to scrutinize the markings.

“...Three-hundred and forty-seven,” Ku-vastei says, “and five months.”

“Right,” Ashiri says. “He was the oldest mer in the clan.”

“Was,” Ku-vastei says, glumly.

“You obtain a certain measure of perspective, living as long as I have,” Ashiri says, placing a soft hand on Ku’s shoulder. “I have no doubt that you’ll live just as long as me, if not longer, with your new…advantages.”

“But what great cost for these ‘advantages.’”

“I know,” says Ashiri.

Suddenly Ku-vastei embraces Ashiri. “I’d rather not have paid it,” she whispers into her neck.

“I know,” says Ashiri.

After a long, silent - but not still, as Ku-vastei is wracked by quiet sobs - moment, they disengage from each other. 

“Ku-vastei,” Ashiri says, offering something to Ku in the palm of her hand. Ku takes it; it’s a small chisel. “I thought you might want to do the engraving on the cairn.” She turns her head away to look over the field of graves. “I think you’re the only one who knew how old he was, anyway.”

Ku-vastei closes her eyes and reflects. Then she nods, rising to approach Malcius’ cairn again.

Carefully, carefully, she inscribes the only thing she can think of.

“MALCIUS MARALIUS

 48

 THE MAN WHO DESERVED TO LIVE FOREVER”

[aladaylessecondblog]

Fallen Star pt. 8

Author's Note: The chapter was running a bit long and still wasn't done so I cut it in half because I had to be up early this morning.

-----------------------

The lips of the mask were cold, and when Voryn pulled back, the chill remained on her skin.

"Apologies," he said, "In dreams, I never take it off."

"It's fine," Sadara replied. She looked up and realized they were now no longer indoors, but outside and under the stars. A garden, perhaps, or a courtyard. "I suppose I must have been here, once, but the garden I do not remember."

In the back of her mind, that fear of forgetting reappeared. She took Voryn's arm when he gestured, and he lead her further out. The crowd of people began to thin as they walked, and the ordered courtyard of a garden began to look less arranged and more natural.

"There's no need to worry about that now," Voryn said, "Don't let the state of the sleepers fool you that way. Those who ascend in my service prefer not to remember what came before."

"I know, I spoke to Ulen. Is it true, the tale he told me? That his daughter was murdered, and...that's how he came to you?"

"Indeed it is, because I saw the memories as they were erased. His daughter fought her captors bravely, and they were all the more cruel in their killing of her as a result. He found her at a point far past death, far beyond any hope of healing and his grief...it consumed him. He turned to skooma and then to drink and it was only then that I reached him. He asked only the erasure of the cruelty he witnessed in return for his service. He was left only with the knowledge that she was murdered by those bandits, and the sight of her body burning on its funeral pyre. No children have come to the Sixth House yet, but he has asked, if he may, to be a part of guiding them if they do. Even though he has forgotten the source of the pain, its echo remains."

"But all your followers...do all of them forget their lives?" Closer now, to the question she actually wanted to ask.

"It is often easier for them that way."

"Even before they have...committed to the cause?" Sadara took a deep breath. "Because...I've noticed myself forgetting things. I'm not accusing you of doing it intentionally, but...I wonder if it is a side-effect of the corprus that I simply didn't notice until now."

"It often plays havoc with some minds," Voryn replied, laying his other hand over the one of hers clinging to his arm. Then he sighed. "Like a thief who steals from the ill-guarded, perhaps you only noticed that things were gone when you reached for them. I cannot predict how it behaves in most minds...but now that you've had your case stilled, I'm certain there will be no further worries."

"No, you wouldn't want your Nerevar to forget this time, would you?" Sadara asked, "I suppose my life is...less important."

There was a pause. Voryn stopped moving, and for a moment she was afraid.

"Your life is what brought you back to me," he said. His voice was gentler when he spoke again. "Am I so terrifying to you?"

"You aren't what you were before, Voryn," Sadara said, trying to choose her words carefully. "And I am still unlearning things that they attempted to put into my head about you. Being able to visit me like this I didn't expect, and your being able to hear my thoughts here, it's...it's not that I fear you exactly, but all this is overwhelming. Imagine it from my side - you come from nothing, you struggle and fight. You get kidnapped in the dead of night and sent to a country where no one wants you there, and start taking orders from some agent of the Emperor because what else are you going to do? The note you gave Dagoth Gares was the first real welcome I felt."

She gulped slightly.

"But at the same time everyone I met, except for the dreamers, told me how dangerous you were. The ashlanders especially. When I asked Nibani Maesa if there were not some way to save you, she told me not to bother. That a merciful end was the best course of action."

She knew she was running at the mouth, but she couldn't stop.

"How glad I am that you decided against that course of action."

Sadara squeezed briefly at his arm. "I know if our places were exchanged I'd want the same consideration. I know someone will eventually try to do what all of Morrowind seems to want, but I want you to understand: it won't be me."

"I already know that."

"I just wanted you to hear it," she looked up at the golden mask.

There was a pause, and then he started walking again.

"Did we do this before? Or is this simply you wanting no eyes on us?"

"Both," Voryn replied. "I was warning you about some worrying rumors to do with the Dwemer...and wondering why you seemed half out of it."

"Perhaps I was drunk?" she gave a slight laugh. "You did mention I liked to drink a little too much at these events."

A step onto a more overgrown path, the sight of a few daffodils and forget-me-nots. A memory stirred, and a thought along with it.

Could Kagrenac really be thinking of doing that? Dumac would never approve...

Walking beside Voryn, just as she was now.

By Azura...those cheekbones, that jaw. He's going to make such beautiful children, I only wish...

She shut her eyes.

"I was trying to tell you something serious," Voryn said, having heard both thoughts, "And you were admiring me."

"Well...perhaps there's a reason I incarnated as a bard," Sadara gave a short laugh. "We are infamous for such things, aren't we? I think...I think I must have thought I'd be able to handle it, that there was nothing to worry about."

She took a deep breath.

"That Azura would protect me, if anything went ill. Perhaps I should have paid less attention to your cheekbones and more attention to your words. Maybe then I'd have been smart enough to know you'd never betray me. I was too full of myself..."

Fog gathered at the edge of her vision. Voryn lead her off the path and under the hanging branches of a willow tree.

"It will be different this time, Nerevar. You know better now. Things will be as they were--no, better than they were, and you will be where you apparently always wanted to be: at my side."

"Just don't ask me to lead your armies," Sadara replied. "I'm tired, Voryn. I want to rest. I will keep your house ordered, your bed warm, your halls filled with music...but I don't want to lead in battle anymore. It would be best if there were no need for battle at all, but I...I know I can't convince you of that."

"I don't want to make my people suffer, but it will be necessary, to drive out the--"

"--mongrel dogs of the empire," she finished for him. "I know...I know. But you know the suffering will be worse this way. Surely Azura will send another champion, one far more likely to be bent to her will. Perhaps actual support in battle, rather than sending them off with more than just orders to do this or that. She told me I was chosen. Not to fear, that she was watchful. But the only one who has truly watched me is you...and I want to keep it that way. I don't want to lose you to a cocksure overpowered ordinator or something like that."

"You fear too much...which I can't say surprises me," Voryn said after a long silence. A flower (red salvia, she thought) appeared in his hand and he reached forward to tuck it behind her ear. "I can understand wanting to be less than what you were...and it is fortunate that I am the one leading now. I can give you all that you ask for."

She looked up at him, smiling weakly, not wanting to think the things she feared more. Knowing she must keep her mind clear, that he would hear anything she thought in this dream.

The fog grew denser, and she reached up to rub at her eyes. "I'm glad to hear it. I had...I had thought you might be angered by my...lack of enthusiasm to fight at your side."

"I could never be angry at you over so small a thing." Voryn's tone was softer than it had yet been, and he lifted her chin to look her in the eye. "We are too well entangled for that to happen."

There was a pause. She rubbed her eyes again.

"Someone is trying to wake you," he said, "Time can pass much differently here than in the waking world. I shall have to make my next visit longer."

He brought her hands to the lips of his mask and pressed a cold kiss to her knuckles.

"Awake or in dream I think of you, Nerevar. I will always think of you. Now that what you hoped has come true, no treachery will ever part us again."

Bliss filled and surrounded Sadara as the fog grew thicker still and finally blotted Voryn from view.

------------------------------------------

Her knuckles were cold when she woke to find Dagoth Ulen standing beside her bed. She jolted, before remembering where she was and why she was there.

"I, I'm sorry," she muttered a quick apology, "I...I've been attacked by ash zombies after falling asleep now and then and I...I..."

"A perfectly natural response," Ulen said, "And it is why I am waking you, and not Rather."

He turned his back while she dressed, and when he turned back she spoke up only a little awkwardly.

"The pre-dawn is Azura's time...do any of you ever hear her?"

"If others do, they have not said," Ulen replied, "I have not heard her since coming here."

"Did you, before?"

She ate some of her rations and then left the room with him; Rather followed along once she'd left it.

"I can't fully recall. I remember cursing Azura's name once, before I came to the Sixth House, but...that, along with the memories I do retain, is a bit foggy. And speaking of the Sixth House..."

He held something out to her. A Sixth House amulet.

"One of the ash poets wanted to give you this."

Sadara gave a brief smile, and took it. "I thought I would have to join the house to get one of these."

What harm could there be in wearing the thing now? Certainly there was a spell attached to it, but wearing it wouldn't trigger the thing. She'd handled a few of these before...and it would help her ongoing masquerade.

She slipped on the amulet and took a deep breath.

Ulen handed her off to Rather at the front door, and she stepped out into the lightening air. It was clearer weather than she'd seen in weeks, no blight storm, no rain, no fog, simply a clear dark sky that was getting slowly brighter.

Sadara walked to the edge of the outdoor courtyard and sat face eastward, staring at the shift of color, the darker reds, the golds, the brilliant orange, like the sky around the sun was aflame.

And as she sat, and thought, she realized three things.

One, that the delicious fluttering in her chest and the warm glow she felt when she looked at or thought of Voryn was no longer merely animalistic lust.

Two, that she was NOT going to given up saving Voryn just yet. He was softer than she had ever seen him before in the dream from before she'd woken, and he was clearly pained by the idea of hurting others. There was a chance. There was a chance.

Three, that there were in reality three possible courses she could take if, in the end, she could not persuade Voryn. To do what Azura said (which she already knew she couldn't), to join Voryn in full, or to spurn both of them and leave Morrowind entirely.

And then, a voice.

You have disappointed me, failed incarnate. For clearly, that is what you are.

[chameleonspell]

this is out of nowhere but that latest post you reblogged reminded me of how well you wrote the entire Dagoth Gares thing. You really nailed the original vibes, this line between seduction and horror. tbh, I link that chapter when I want to tell ppl who haven't played Morrowind about the Sixth House's vibes because it's just so immaculate

needed this today, thank you kind stranger! <3

[amberthefantasy]

'Neath Moon and Star

Chapter 11: Curse

Naris and Ryna rested until midday after their sleep. It would take a while for the statue to be built and for them to find the prophecies Nibani Maesa had asked for so they didn't worry about taking a little longer to rest after so much work. 

They managed to get a free pass to Balmora from Emelia just as she left the hall. Both the mer were still somewhat stumbling as they walked, weariness still wore down Naris' bones as he walked towards Caius' house. 

The imperial was again seated at his table, this time reading over some report that he lowered when Naris entered. "You have returned. What happened?"

"The Wise Woman says that I am not the Nerevarine," Naris said, Caius' face dropped slightly. "But that I may become him."

"Ah wise women, always so cryptic," Caius shook his head.

"She also said she needs some help to find lost prophecies the ashlanders no longer know," Naris said.

"This sounds like something that Mehra Milo can help me with. I'll have to be careful. I don't want to risk getting her in trouble. But she may be able to find out whether the Dissident Priests do have any records of Ashlander Nerevarine prophecies, and, if so, how we might get a look at them. It may take some time. But I'll let you know when I find out," Caius nodded in dismissal and Naris left without another word.

Naris opened his eyes. Red Mountains ashy peak rose into the distance. "Yi'lohm en cilver?" a soft voice asked from behind him. He turned to see another mer standing there, golden eyes filled with an unasked question. 

"Yes hle lohm?" He responded, smiling softly at the other mer.

"How do you do it?" His companion asked.

"Do what?" Naris cocked his head.

"Lead so easily?"

He laughed. "I have no idea."

---

"Naris!" Caius' voice called from the doorway of the cornerclub. Naris jumped to his feet and hurried over. Caius had never come to him to give orders, this must be urgent.

"Caius? What is wrong?" Naris asked when he reached him. 

"Champion Raesa Pullia at Fort Buckmoth says a patrol found a Sixth House base in a cave the locals call Ilunibi," Caius said slightly breathless. "However, the one trooper who escaped to report has died of corprus disease. Before he died, the trooper reported fighting with monsters and cultists, and something about a powerful Sixth House priest called Dagoth Gares. But go talk to Raesa Pullia at Fort Buckmoth. She'll have all the details." 

Naris nodded quickly, rushing back to gather his things. Ryna hurried to gather her own weapons, asking quick questions that Naris answered with short sentences. 

The fort was mostly empty when the two dunmer arrived and it was easy to find Raesa Pullia in the main hall. "Ma'am, I have been told that you have discovered a base of the Sixth House?" Naris said after introductions.

"Yes, only one trooper returned. He died soon after, horribly disfigured with corprus disease, and out of his wits. In his ravings, he spoke of a cavern on the coast -- he called it "Ilunibi." It's not on our maps; try asking locals in Gnaar Mok. They fought with cultists and disfigured man-beasts -- corprus monsters, I think. They fled the attackers and got lost in the caves. Then they ran into a half-man creature named Dagoth Gares," Raesa shuddered. "This Dagoth Gares slew the rest of the patrol, but spared the one trooper. He told the trooper he was being spared, so he might tell others that "The Sleeper Awakes," and "The Sixth House has Risen," and "Dagoth Ur is Lord, and I am his Priest," and "All will be One with Him in the Flesh." The trooper awakened outside the caves and returned here. We couldn't recognize him, and he didn't respond to questions... just kept rambling on like a madman until he died."

Naris took a deep breath. "Where was the base?"

"Ilunibi," Raesa said. "A sea cavern near Gnaar Mok. It is on no maps but the locals may know."

"We will find the cave and avenge your comrade," Ryna said

"Thank you," Raesa smiled slightly.

---

The locals did know of a few caves that may be Illunibi. They had decided to try the largest, that made the most sense. The entrance to the cavern was empty. Ryna clicked her tongue, "maybe we chose wrong?" She said softly.

Naris opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a gurgling cry. He raised his longsword and sliced it cleanly through the ash monster's neck. "I don't think we did," he said lightly.

The two dunmer fought their way through section and section in the cave, trying to find whatever had made the scouts lose their minds, but seeing nothing. "Daedra!" Ryna called as they entered another section. Naris flicked one of his daggers from its sheath and threw the poisoned blade at the creature. It let out a shriek as the blade connected and it dissolved into ash. More daedra appeared behind the banished one and other creatures Naris didn't recognize followed. Naris and Ryna fought around each other in the obviously practised way that only came from working together many times. 

They cut through the monsters with ease, finding themselves in a room of ashes and corpses before long. "The Sixth House greets you, Lord Nerevar. Or Naris, as you call yourself," a raspy voice called from around a corner. Naris took a few steps forward and let out a shuddering breath, an odd creature stood before him, a monstrous thing that Naris wished he could look away from but found he couldn't. "I am known as Dagoth Gares, priest of Ilunibi Shrine, and minister to Sixth House servants. My Lord, Dagoth Ur, has informed me of your coming. I wish that this time you had come to honour your Lord's friendship, not to betray it."

"Lord's friendship?" Naris scoffed. Friendship, yes it felt like friendship to be attacked every time he even got close to a monster of the Sixth House. 

"Lord Dagoth gives me these words to say to you, so you may give them thought. ' Once we were friends and brothers, Lord Nerevar, in peace and in war. Yet beneath Red Mountain, you struck me down as I guarded the treasure you bound me by oath to defend. But, remembering our old friendship, I would forgive you, and raise you high in my service.' " Naris had to resist the urge to snarl at the word service and allow the monster to continue. "My Lord Dagoth bids you come to Red Mountain. For the friendship and honour that once you shared, he would grant you counsel and power, if only you would pledge that friendship anew. I am not your Lord Dagoth, yet I, too, would say to you... Do you come with weapons to strike me down? Or would you put away your weapon, and join me in friendship?"

Naris took a moment to think, before raising his sword. "I don't do service, or friendship with dead mad gods." He launched himself forward. Dagoth Garis flicked his hands to throw a fireball that Naris managed to dodge. He distantly heard Ryna curse and saw an arrow shoot through the air and sink into the monster's shoulder. 

Dagoth Garis was obviously not expecting to fight two people because seemed to be struggling to decide between getting rid of the interloper or fighting the one he perceived as more of a threat. It was useful for Naris though, because he managed to avoid all of the fireballs and lightning strikes sent his way before slicing the blade of his sword down on the monster's head. 

Dagoth Garis fell to the ground with a grunt. "Even as my Master wills, you shall come to him, in his flesh, and of his flesh." A croaking groan rang through the cave. Naris gasped, clutching at his heart where it felt like a blade had just been sliced through. 

"Naris?" Ryna asked. Naris spotted her hand reaching toward him and jumped back.

"Don't touch me," Naris gasped. "I think he just gave me corprus."

---

Naris and Ryna managed to stumble back to Balmora, taking almost an entire day and night to reach the walled city. Naris still refused to let Ryna touch him, especially after his forearm began to ache and bloat in confirmation of his suspicions. 

"I will go to Caius Cosades," Ryna was saying as they reached the walls of the city. "He may know of something to help."

"He may not be willing to speak with someone who is not a blade," Naris said softly. "And there is no cure for corprus."

"Well I have to try," Ryna snapped.

Naris looked up at her from where he had sat against the stone walls of Balmora. Her eyes were shining with emotion and Naris felt a stab at his heart. "Try," he repeated. "You can try."

"I will!" Ryna insisted. "Wait here."

Naris did wait for a while. He let out little hisses when the skin of his arm, and now his lower right leg, were pulled by the curse placed upon him. Naris shifted his sleeve to look at his arm. The skin was bludging in a way that made his lip curl, and the colour of it had changed, turning a paler, sickly colour. 

"Naris?" Ryna's voice came from beside him.

Naris looked towards her and felt a sense of hope run through him at the happy look on her face. "Yes?"

"Caius was pleased with the death of Dagoth Garis," she began. "And he said he has heard of a Telvanni who is researching a cure for corprus. Lord Divayth Fyr, he lives on an island near Azura's Coast."

"Well then," Naris stood with a grunt. "We should at least try!"

'NMaS masterlist / post masterlist

[scuttling-void]

Mindel and Nineera meet bc he teleports himself into some random Imperial fort after getting corprus from Dagoth Gares. Nineera is with the Imperial cult bc it was a way to escape her boring life back in Cyrodiil, but she grows to absolutely despises the organization and sees them as mostly useless.

When the other healers in the temple refuse him care bc he's clearly got corprus, she ends up quitting and chasing after him. At the time she's extremely sheltered and overly idealistic, having literally never used her skills in the real world.

Anyways she does stick with him up until Caius gets them all to tel fyr, simply bc she thinks he's definitely going to die. Afterwards, she ends up following him around bc she has literally nowhere else to go. They have really clashing personalities and backgrounds, so they hate each other for most of the early storyline.

[bretongirlwrites]

Three men went into Ilunibi. One came out. Lunette, along with a force from Buckmoth, goes to answer Dagoth Gares's summons and find the lost patrol.

Raesa Pullia remained stoic, in turning over the corpse, – composed, on beholding the full effect of the corprus which had overtaken it, where I must turn and wish I had never come at all, – and made to speak; until perceiving a glint at the finger, she became so unreasonably pale, that she was half another person, and the man at her side let out a cry. The commander took as deep a breath as might be got, in the deathlike air; and said at last, returning to her command:

‘Another man may return, after all; but let it be covered.’ 

She had once known him by his face; now knew him, hardly, by the ring struggling on his finger. He was so ravaged, that she looked almost with relief at the blood spilled from him, which was as rusted-red as one might hope for, in the circumstances: she must look at that, and I must look only sideways, and wish again that I had not come, and wonder if I was dreaming. The man who’d got back to Gnaar Mok, had not been so bad as this: and we were hardly in!

‘Shall I stay with him, ma’am?’ asked one of the others.

Raesa Pullia had been about to chastise him; when seeing his face, paler than her own, she nodded, curt, and drew herself up. The others imitated her, for want of almost anything else. Our volunteer took up his post; regretted almost at once, agreeing to stand alone with a corpse, which in this flickering black, and in his raving imagination, was surely as bad as those half-dead shambling creatures further in; and Raesa Pullia began to line up our next move. I yet remained aside and wondered that I was still standing.

‘He is as desecrated as might be got,’ she said, voicelessly: ‘fear not what might happen so long as some of him may be brought home. Gods only know what has become of Renaud, –’

The volunteer, who had gone, mechanically, to close the corpse’s eyes though they were already thrice lidded with corprus, lifted his head behind us; and in the scarlet darkness of the cavern we’d already crossed, pointed at an emerging shadow. The shadow mocked, in a bow, his cowering fear. This figure, this man, – had more of his face than our corpse; yet so little left of his mind, that Raesa stood swaying a moment, before she knew him, before she knew his cloven broken face; before she knew she had an answer to a thing she’d not meant as a question. The shadow put up a bloated hand; mirrored, behind us, by the slow glinting of five separate swords, his eyes shone even in this gloom; and his mouth, twisted, spoke his answer, –

‘I am awake.’

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Hello! :D

Can you share a few details on some writing and art you're very proud of? What makes these scenes and details so cool in your opinion?

Now that you've posted your story and are right at the beginning of your fiction writing journey, what advice would you give yourself from the art side of things? (Both creative pursuits are art! And both show some vulnerability to share.)

How does writing help your art? And vice versa?

Ooo fun! Let's see... Under a cut because it's long and stuff!

Art that I'm still proud of.

Everything just went right here, I got the glow effects and the ambience exactly how I wanted it. Plus his eyes move if you move your head. Also was my first time drawing/painting Nerevarine Teldryn and I kinda got hooked on this whole design. He lives in either Netch Leather or Chitin most of the time so... Plus obsessed with his hairstyle. Obsessed!

I came up with half his backstory doing this, right down to the scarring on Teldryn's arm being Dagoth Gares' handprint. The point of contact literally being Dagoth Gares grabbing Teldryn's arm and cursing him before dying. Plus the whole "ring doesn't fit" thing. I thought that would be fun after drawing Nerevar (who is physically small but huge personality-wise).

I still love this one to bits because I fully cemented how I want Sydari to look, her jewellery, clothing colour etc. She's very into finery, so everything she wears is highly embellished. Also, eyes move if you move your head. The portrait just worked! It just works. :D

As for writing, I'm still very proud of this scene from On Apocrypha.

Teldryn was pacing outside Sydari’s room, he could barely gleam what was going on in there and silently cursed the thickness of the adobe walls. He knew Aphia was badmouthing him again, he deserved it, sure but did she have to remind him of his failures every time they met? It was getting tiresome.

The door opened and Geldis emerged, holding a bowl of stew that he must have intended for him. Teldryn walked towards him, about to ask what had transpired when Geldis lifted his hand, motioning for Teldryn to follow him into the bar.

“What did she say?” Teldryn began as Geldis scrapped the now cold stew into the food bin.

“It’s not good Teldryn,” Geldis shook his head “It’s some sort of Daedric magic that’s keeping her like that, you’re definitely gonna need Neloth.”

Teldryn let out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “I guess… I was hoping to avoid having to interact with him directly”.

“I know, but Aphia thinks this is Hermaeus Mora’s doing,” Geldis threw the dirty bowl into a large, waterfilled basin, “You know Neloth is the only one who can help here”.

“I know, I just…” Teldryn began before Geldis cut him off.

“You feel bad leaving her, I know” Geldis pulled a clean bowl out from behind the counter and filled it with more stew before placing it in front of Teldryn. “Eat”.

“I’m not hungry,” Teldryn mumbled, that was a lie.

“Bullshit,” Geldis dropped a clean spoon next to the stew, “you’re starving, you’re tired and you stink like rotted fish.”

“Well, you don’t have to put it that bluntly,” Teldryn sighed, absent-mindedly taking the spoon.

“Just eat the damn food Teldryn, you’re no good to anyone in this state,” Geldis said, pulling a bottle of shein out from under the bar along with two earthenware mugs.

“Did Drovas make this?” Teldryn questioned, a disgusted look on his face, “You know everything he makes is bland as all hell,” he continued eating.

“No, you just don’t have any tastebuds anymore,” Geldis smirked sliding a full mug of shein across the counter. “Not everyone wants their ass burning after their meals, ya know,” he smirked before ducking under the counter.

“His cooking tastes like ash and salt, and you know it,” Teldryn drawled, “that better be some gods damn seasoning you’re fetching”.

“You can’t come storming in here in the small hours of the morning and expect a feast you know,” Geldis smiled before sliding over a small, dark bottle to Teldryn.

“No, but you could have this added to it prior,” Teldryn uncorked the bottle and began pouring the red, oily concoction into what remained of the stew before taking another bite, “Better”.

“I still don’t get your obsession with that, the amount you put in ruins literally everything that’s good about food,” Geldis quipped, taking a drink from his own mug, “Minor remaining side effects of Blight, hey?”

“No, no, it was that crap that Fyr fed me,” Teldryn remarked, scraping the last of his stew from the bowl, “can’t taste shit unless it’s on fire”. Teldryn stood and began moving back towards Sydari’s room.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re goin’?” Geldis called out, “Leave Aphia to do her damn job!”

Teldryn muttered something unsavoury under his breath before stamping back towards the bar, “I don’t want her alone in there,” he whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

“She’s not, Aphia is there trying to do her damned job, you’re not helping her by hovering,” Geldis poured another drink for the two of them, “You have somewhere to be anyways”.

“I’d really rather not- “Teldryn began, Geldis raised his hand “Shh, you hear that?”

Teldryn paused, he could hear murmuring coming from down the hall. He almost sprinted to the source of the noise, Geldis not far behind. He arrived at the still-closed door to Sydari’s room and listened. More murmuring, two voices, hers.

“Teldryn, don’t” Geldis grabbed Teldryn’s arm right as he threw open the door.

It was fun to explore the lack of taste quirk. I'll be playing with it a lot more but I came up with that idea when writing this scene. He needed 5 seconds to calm down here. I'll add this to either the end of part 1 or the start of part 2 of Serious Mistakes, but I will probably edit what's here so that I get Geldis' voice more consistent with what's written in the chapter I already have up. It was the first thing I ever released and I still feel good about it.

I have a few hang-ups confidence-wise when releasing any creative work. I'm learning/telling myself to not give as much of a crap about the things I see as failings because honestly, it's only stuff that I see. No one else sees that. I think I'm doing ok with writing deep down, the damn thing has been rolling around in my brain for almost a year now so it's not like I'm writing without some idea of what's going on later in the story.

My advice to myself is to engage with the people who engage with you. If someone likes what you create, take the time to thank them. I reread a lot of comments because it makes me smile. It also makes me happy that people are noticing the little character quirks that I work into my art and writing. Things aren't always said directly, mostly implied. I like that people are examining my pieces enough to notice. I highly encourage people to zoom in on these arts! There are a lot of details in there.

It's nice to have some positivity after decades of negative reactions to my specific interests. Not giving a crap about the negativity is a goal! The fic deals with a lot of hard topics and I intend on exploring them fully. If it's not comfortable then that's good, trauma is not comfortable. Mine certainly isn't. Writing about it has helped me distance myself from the issues and heal slightly. I chose to do this for myself specifically, I'm writing something I want to read. And I like dark but funny shit. XD

Currently, my writing and personal art are in a bit of a circular loop, one feeds into the other. So I'm producing scenes that should appear in the fic at some point or are referenced in it in some way. Specifically these:

All kinda revolve around scenes or concepts that happen later on. The first one is after a shipwreck, the second is an observation from Teldryn's POV and the third one is after Teldryn gives Sydari a gift prior to a very boring party that he can't attend...he'd like to attend. He proclaims a thing, and it goes well before imploding due to a few documents that appear in the Thalmor's possession.

I am having a lot of fun here. It's nice to have a hyperfixation to stuff my free time into again. And I'm on holidays until August so...a lot of free time (outside of that other thing I'm working on). XD