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obsidiancreates · 1 month

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Self-Indulgent Thing (HOK meets Dragonborn)

"So you're not Sheogorath."

The being sits back, kicking it's boots up onto the table. The form of the elderly man is faint and transparent now, a reflection in riverwater and nothing more. "Sure I am. Jyggalag hates me too much for me to be anyone else at this point."

The Dragonborn leans forward in her seat, placing one arm on her knee. "But your secretary-"

"Haskill? Ah, he misses former management. I bounce around between planes a bit much for his tastes, but I can't help it! Adventure runs in my blood, if I have that anymore. Care to check? I'll gut you if you do, but then we'll learn if you have blood, so something will be gained either way really."

"Try to gut me, and I shall cut you down."

"Adorable. Adorable! You and I are so alike, dear. Have you felt the taste of death in your throat too? Blood gushing into your mouth after one lucky strike from a go- no, you don't have goblins in Skyrim, do you? No goblins or zombies or even rats, it's all Skeevers- there I go again. Well, to make a long story short, I went through a very long process to get this job and only died a few times along the way, but you and I, we're not beholden to stuff and nonsense like permanent death."

The Dragonborn's eyes go wide. "How do you know about-"

"All the great heroes of the ages do it, apparently, why I met the most delightful spirit from Morrowind during a particularly interesting outing who-"

"Enough!" The Dragonborn slams her fit on the stone stool beside her. "Finish your story and release me from this plane! I have many tasks to complete!"

"Yes, yes, Alduin and all that. I knew a Dragonborn, far far back before I went through the interview process, as I mentioned before. You're nothing like him, and he couldn't do that fancy little shout trick either. I'm tempted to rip out your soul and life essence to see if it looks like a dragon!"

"You aren't capable of such things."

"I might not be! I've never tried. It's only been two hundred years, you see, so much to build on! So much the old bastard figured I'd figure out on my own. There's no handbook for How To Be A Daedra Lord, you know! Or there wasn't. I had Haskill write one, but it was more like a list of complaints about my leadership style, and then another page was added when I let him off with only a warning!"

"Why do you keep me here?"

"I'm lonely. The Dragonborn I knew was my... friend. And he's paling around now with the Divines, bah, and I am rejected by them despite all my work in The Oblivion Crisis just because I got into a spot of trouble in my grief and became a Prince of Madness!"

"... No."

"No?"

"You want to be my companion. My answer is no."

"Companion? Hardly. Mentor, accomplice, Daedra on your shoulder? Absolutely. I miss wandering landscapes, fighting in grand arenas, becoming so weighed down with precious, precious loot that I can't even walk! The Shivering Isles are a madness of logic, a predictable madness, and I'm damn tired of it! Almost makes me wish Jyggalag would come RAZE IT ALL TO THE GROUND like he did before I took over!"

"I need no mentor."

"You'll let the old shut-ins who only fight frostbite and malnourishment mentor you but not me? I'm an experienced adventurer! I traveled all of Cyrodiil, destroyed gates to Oblivion itself across the entire land, worked hand-in-hand with two Emperors of the Septim line! I aided in the defeat of Mehrunes Dagon, which he still gives me flack for at every crossing of our paths, absolutely ruins the atmosphere of the potlucks I try to set up between the Princes. I am Sheogorath, I am the Grand Champion, and I am the gods-damned HERO OF KVATCH!"

The dream-like world trembles at the shout, the garishly bright colors surrounding the picnic area seeming to blur and melt! The amber-coated trees bend and keel like a bandit shot with an arrow straight through the chest, the butterflies drop and begin to dig, the being itself seems to warp and twist and show hundreds and thousands of faces of all races and ages and something deeper stronger more unknowable-

"FUS, RHO DAH!"

The shout does not topple Sheogorath.

But the mere act seems to stun it. The world snaps back into place, colors no longer melting out of the sky and tree no longer reaching for The Dragonborn's throat and creatures of the air no longer seeking shelter in the dirt. Sheogorath blinks at The Dragonborn, mouth agape.

And then it grins.

"Well well well! There's a little spunk! Didn't I tell you, Haskill?"

"Very wise, my lord."

The Dragonborn nearly drives a dagger into Haskill's thigh, but the inhuman man simply ceases existing, and then exists again by Sheogorath's side.

"It's settled then." Sheogorath stands. It's form is no longer shifting, but it's not solid either. A vague shape, no more. "I'll be coming with you whether you want it or not! I know you'll try to use that little shout there to send me off cliffs and such- I knew a fellow, small, terrible hair, who decided to follow me around no matter what back when I became Grand Champion, and oh did I grow weary of him. But he stuck around, and so will I, and I'll grow on you like mold! In the best way, of course."

"I already have a companion."

"You do, you do. I never got any sort of reward like an entire person for saving cities, and I'm not sure how I feel about your attainment of the poor girl really. But now you have two companions!"

"I will not travel with a Daedra."

"You won't be."

Shifting, solidifying- the form of Sheogorath becomes that of a mortal, armor and all. The style of the armor and weapons alike are old, ancient even, and clearly none of it is of Skyrim make. Sheogorath shakes itself, letting out a sigh.

"Been too long since I brought out the old mortal form! Ah, the bones and joints are creaking! How do I fix that, Haskill?"

"Will it to be so, my lord."

"What a boring answer. Mmm, effective though. Right! Let's be off, I'll be back whenever I'm back!"

The Dragonborn scowls. "There's no stopping you."

"Not unless you want to get stuck in a loop forever. My powers may have changed over the years, but I can still reset reality with the best of them! Which is you, and that lovely Morrowind spirit I mentioned before, and-"

"How can I possibly trust you through this?"

"Not very good at flowing conversation, are we? You can trust me because I'm not trustworthy, so it all loops back around!"

"I'm not one of your worshippers. I will not accept madness as reason."

"Fine. You can trust me because I'm here for the same reason as you. Adventure."

"... Keep close to me, and don't speak to others."

"Not a chance! But don't worry about me ruining your little quests, I told you I'm experienced with this. How much could have changed in Mundas in the last two hundred years anyway?"

#my writing #fanfic #my attempts at fanfic #tes #the elder scrolls

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littledragondork · 7 months

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I want to infodumb about my OC Brigitte so that is exactly what I’m going to do :3

For starters, she goes by she/her pronouns but honestly wouldn’t give a shit if you referred by something else and she’s AroAce.

Technically, her full name is Brigitte Night-Torn Septim but she finds it to be way too much of a mouthful so she just goes by Brigitte Night-Torn

She was born 30th of Rain’s Hand and as such was born under The Mage Sign

She has joint problems and thus walks with a cane.

Despite the fact her dad is a 6’8” behemoth of a Nord man she is actually very short for a Nord/Imperial only standing at 5’1” and some change. Nobody knows why she’s so short but she jokes that her brother took all her height just as she took all his muscle (he’s 6’5” and has a very lithe build).

As stated: short but very burly, pretty muscular compared to the average not working person.

She has sectorial heterchromia, so left eye is blue but the right eye has a large brown section to it. (If her eye was a pie chart, about 65% would be brown)

Both she and her twin brother, Micah, are Dragonborn but only she really is the true Last Dragonborn prophesied because she was the one to land the killing blow on Alduin, was born first and dies last.

She is both Autistic and has ADHD, will infodump about Daedra and/or Dragons for hours.

Has a lot of social anxiety and often will go hours without talking.

Has a knack for magic and often uses it to assist on her heists or just to be an asshole.

Joined the Thieves Guild after a footpad from the guild tried to rob her and she beat him with her cane, took his valuables and hid using an invisibly spell and she knack for stealth, the rest of the guild was so dumbfounded that they just had to meet and later recruit her.

She is in a Queer Platonic relationship with Brynjolf

Absolutely cringefail, has accidentally made it a habit to fall into the Thieves Guild Cistern at least twice a month.

Girl can and would sleep though the end of the world, she’s a tired bitch (affectionate).

Has a major sweet tooth and her favorite food is chocolate cake and a hot cup of tea to go with it.

Pretty mellow with most things, when it comes to running the Thieves Guild, her go-with-the-flow attitude was a major adjustment and caused a few members of the guild a lot of confusion and/or stress for a short period of time.

Due to her dad being Daedric in origin (HOK!Sheo) she inherited what is essentially a “Daedra radar” so she can very quickly tell if an item, place or person has a Daedra linked to if in anyway or is of Daedric origin, and has a slightly extended lifespan (naturally her brother has the same abilities).

She is very mischievous and will pull (mostly) harmless pranks on people she knows will be okay with it. Her personal favorite is to slightly move furniture around and watch people bump into them and get more and more frustrated.

Has a habit of gently biting people she cares about, namely her brother and her Dads.

Her hobbies include: cooking, sewing, making weapons, making jewelry, and reading.

Character creation fact: I wanted her to have short fluffy hair early on because 1. I thought it would be cute and 2. The way I was writing her she sounded like the type who’d just cut most her hair off and call it a day rather than try to take care of a ton of it. I also initially made her dad be the one who has Heterchromia but changed it to her because I simply thought I’d look better on her

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late-nite-scholar · 9 months

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Aug 11th (Day 8)- Free Day!

Day 8: A series of short snippets chronicling a very different Oblivion Crisis. As a Nord, Aethelfrid immediately has a plan upon hearing that Martin is Dragonborn. She smuggles him to High Hrothgar where he quickly masters a handful of Shouts. They now fight together against the Daedric invasion and the battle with Mehrunes Dagon in the Temple of the One goes very differently.

Prompts by @tes-summer-fest This was super fun! Thanks for having us all out for this!

Nord HoK x Martin Septim

Warnings- Canon typical violence, otherwise tossing canon to the wind, long-ass read, wishful thinking

Wordcount- Almost 4K. I know it's long, but this was the shortest it could be and still be somewhat coherent.

(Pictures at the bottom this time for spoiler purposes!)

***

Oblivion AU- The Hero and the Dragonborn:

“Hail Dragonborn! Hail Martin Septim!” The Blades’ words rang out around them. Martin spoke, but Aethelfrid was hardly listening. The same word echoed over and over in her mind, and all she could do was stare. Could it be…?

“Was I really that bad?” Martin joked, pulling her back to reality.

“It was a good first try. Are you really Dragonborn?” The question fell from her lips before she could stop it.

“I guess so? That’s what they say about the Septim blood, isn’t it? That Tiber was one? Is… is that bad?”

“No. I just… we’ll talk later.” She put on a big smile. “Your Blades all want to meet you, after all, Your Highness. And we’ve had a long trip. Let’s relax for at least a few moments.”

“Of course. That’s a splendid idea.”

As Martin was folded into the gathered Blades, shaking hands and asking names, Aethelfrid’s mind worked. And it continued to do so as she studied the layout of the Temple as they moved inside. Yes, she could figure this out.

+++

Martin tensed as the door to his quarters opened and closed almost silently, but relaxed just as quickly as he caught a flash of bright orange hair. Aethelfrid wasted no time crossing the room to where he stood. He had to admit the look of intensity on her face put him on edge. There was something going on, and he worried what that could be.

“Aethelfrid? What’s on your mind? You’ve been acting strange since you heard them call me Dragonborn. Let’s sit, and tell me what bothers you.”

As they sat, her intense expression melted into a smile that took his breath for an instant. Then she laughed a little. “Oh, no, it’s quite the opposite! My father told me stories of dragonborn warriors when I was a little girl. Of the things they could do, the incredible power they wielded. Of the power of the Voice.”

“The Voice?”

“An ability given to my people by Kyne herself. By speaking the right words you could shatter mountains, bring forth fire and storm, move and be like the wind. There is no equal to a dragonborn warrior’s abilities. Martin, if you are Dragonborn, you can do that, too! We could turn this invasion around in no time with that power!”

“Aethelfrid… I have no idea how to use such abilities. I’ve never even heard of this! How would I even start?”

“You can’t learn it here. But I know where you can. Every Nord, even one born here like me, knows of the monks of High Hrothgar. They teach the Way of the Voice. If we get you to them, then they can do the rest.”

“Where are they?” He sat forward, intrigued but feeling an odd, nervous prickle in the back of his neck.

“At the top of the Throat of the World. I know the way. The last time my family visited Skyrim my father pointed out the path.”

“The Blades aren’t going to let me jaunt off to Skyrim.”

The door opened and closed again. They both froze as Baurus slipped in. But he sat down beside them. “I’m going to go to the Imperial City on a lead. I’ll get you both out of here. We’ll split off once we’re out of sight. You two head for the Pale Pass, I’ll go to the city. Meet me there as soon as you get back. I’ll start setting the groundwork and see what I can dig up while you’re gone.”

+++

Martin and Aethelfrid stared up at the trail before them. Seven thousand steps, the people in the village had said. The mere idea sounded exhausting. They’d traveled nonstop since Baurus had snuck Martin out of a secret entrance and they’d split off in their opposite directions. Martin thanked the Divines for Baurus. His knowledge of Cloud Ruler Temple had made it so much easier for them to get out without being noticed. He also thanked them for Aethelfrid. She was just as tireless and driven as she had been on their trip from Kvatch. And now that they were in Skyrim, she fell easily into the culture, chatting with locals in their Nordic language without even a hint of a Cyrod accent. He certainly wouldn’t have gotten here without her.

“You’re going to be warm enough?” She asked as they climbed. “It’s going to get cold as we go up.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m ready to do this.”

+++

By the time they reached the top, and stood before the massive temple, he was exhausted. Even Aethelfrid was breathing heavily. It had been a long trip up the mountain, occasionally beset by wolves lurking the trail.

“We made it.” he said softly, looking up at the somber, stone building.

“Yes. High Hrothgar. I never thought to see it for myself,” she whispered. “Can you feel the power?”

“Yes. Do we… do we just go in?”

“I suppose so. We shall see if the Greybeards will grant us an audience. Maybe they’ll already know of our coming, of your coming.”

They trudged up the stairs and, with trepidation, entered through the ancient, intricately-carved door. A small group of men in grey robes waited for them, all silent. Aethefrid’s heart thundered in her chest. Now that they were here, what would the Greybeards think of them just wandering in? Maybe they should have knocked?

One of them took a step forward, and the fear redoubled. Any of these men could obliterate them both with no more than a word. But he was looking at Martin now, and spoke in a quiet voice.

“Welcome, Dragonborn. What do you seek from us?”

Martin took a deep breath before replying. “If I am Dragonborn, then I am here to learn the Way of the Voice.”

“Your destiny does not lie among our number.”

“I know. I cannot leave the world and its people, my people, helpless to the threat of Oblivion. I need to learn from you so that I can protect them, fight for them the way my ancestors did.” He silently thanked Aethelfrid for the steady stream of explanations she’d given him during their journey. Otherwise he’d have been lost at what to say.

“We do not use the Thu'um for war, for fighting.” the Greybeard said pointedly. Martin’s heart sank until he continued. “But the way of the Dragonborn is guided by a different fate. We will teach you. We will begin immediately.”

“Thank you.” He could’ve fallen to his knees before the man, but instead followed him further in, only turning once to see Aethelfrid smiling encouragingly.

+++

Ten days later, Martin and Aethelfrid prepared to make their way back down the mountain. The Greybeards were as good as their word, and Martin had ravenously taken their knowledge. He’d barely slept the whole time, pouring himself into learning everything he could. In return, the Greybeards had gifted him the words to five Shouts. Martin doubted they’d planned to give him so much, but he’d pushed them for more and learned them fast.

“You’ve done amazing!” Aethefrid laughed as they made their way down the mountain. “I don’t know if those monks have ever seen someone learn as fast as you. I’m… I’m so proud of you.”

He flushed. “You’re too kind. This is for the people. We have to help them, so I knew I needed to gain as much from my time here as I could. I hope it will be enough.”

“If it’s not, I’m not sure anything would be.”

+++

Three dremora popped out of a side door. Two of them charged as the third lifted its bow. She ran towards them, sword and shield at the ready.

"Aethelfrid!" he cried.

"Get the sigil stone! I've got this!" she shouted over her shoulder. Then she was swinging at the dremora, teeth bared in a snarl.

He ran up to the platform, grabbing the stone floating in the air. Immediately, everything began to shake.

"WULD… NAH KEST!" The Shout propelled him back down the ramp as fast as the wind. He threw his arms around Aethelfrid's waist just as he felt himself pulled from this dimension and back to Nirn. It only made him hold on tighter.

Even though he felt the magicka dissipate and knew they were back in Cyrodiil, he didn’t let go. "By Akatosh! I felt it pulling me away and I thought it was going to leave you behind and… Aethelfrid, I thought I was going to lose you…"

“Martin?”

He reached up, taking gentle hold of her face and guiding her down until they were nose-to-nose. “I’d be lost without you, my Aethelfrid.”

As he closed the last little bit of distance between them, all he could think about was the softness of her lips. When they pulled away, her freckled face had washed over with pink. She kissed him again, very softly.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

“Thank the gods for that.”

+++

She materialized back onto the battlefield, finding herself looking up at the massive siege engine. It was too late! It was coming through! She leapt out of its way, and none too soon, either. The Gate winked out abruptly, leaving half the siege engine in the Deadlands. The part that had made it through the Gate collapsed into useless wreckage, but that didn’t stop the Daedra that had accompanied it from attacking her. These included five large, armored dremora who circled her warily. She steeled herself for a hard battle; everyone else was still fighting their own enemies. She’d have to do this on her own.

“KRII… LUN AUS!” The dremora stumbled in unison, cracks appearing in their armor. Aethelfrid wasted no time, swinging her sword and smashing her shield into the first of the weakened creatures. Then a second Shout rang out, “FO… KRAH DIIN!”

She lifted her shield as an icy gale howled, freezing the Dremora solid. Wasting no time, she smashed their frozen forms as a final Shout sounded, and then Martin was at her side in a rush of wind. They fell into each other’s arms.

“I got it.” she whispered. “The Great Stone we need.”

“Thank Akatosh!” Smiling at her, he added, “And thank Kyne, too.”

Aethelfrid’s eyes softened with tears, but people were gathering now. Martin stepped back, addressing the crowd. “We have been victorious! All hail Aethelfrid, the Savior of Bruma!”

“All hail the Savior of Bruma!” The crowd shouted back, over and over, cheering and whooping.

Aethelfrid glared over at Martin, hissing, “This is your victory, not mine!”

“Nonsense, you’re the hero here, Champion to the would-be Emperor! This is your day.”

Aethelfrid didn’t get a chance to respond before they were swept into the crowd, and soon back into the city for a proper party. Martin grinned ear-to-ear as he watched the people celebrate his beloved. And so they should, for none were as brave and strong as her.

+++

“What am I waiting for? After all this is my destiny. No man can deny his destiny.” He took the amulet from Aethelfrid’s hand and lifted it over his head. Aethelfrid clenched her fists, waiting to see if something would happen.

Nothing.

She let out a laugh that was almost a sob. “Oh, thank Kyne! I knew you could wear it, but… I’m so glad nothing happened.”

“That makes two of us,” he joked gently. Turning serious, he added, “I’ve sent a message to High Chancellor Ocato, we’re going to meet him in the Imperial City and end this once and for all. The Blades are preparing things already.”

“We’ll be ready to go by morning,” Jauffre confirmed.

Martin clapped him on the shoulder. “Excellent. Now if you’ll all excuse me, I must speak to the Champion alone about a very important matter.”

He led her out of the chamber and through the halls until they reached the back doors, Baurus in tow. They stepped out into the crisp mountain air, the setting sun painting the sky in stunning reds and purples.

Martin turned, taking Aethelfrid’s hands. His voice remained steady, though his hands shook. “Aethelfrid, we’re leaving tomorrow. I don’t know what will happen when we get to the Imperial City. But I cannot leave without asking you this. I’ve thought about it for a long time and… I cannot go into whatever destiny awaits me without knowing the answer.”

He pulled a thin, braided cord from his pocket. It was red, run through with gold. The braiding was an intricate, Nordic style and Aethelfrid gasped.

“This is a handfasting cord! Where did you get this?”

“A woman in Bruma made it for me. If you know what this is, then you know what I wish to ask you. Will you come to the Imperial City with me, fight this last battle with me, as my wife?”

“Yes! Of course I will!”

Baurus took the cord and bound their hands as they faced one another, smiles brightening both their faces. It was almost too beautiful to be true, too perfect.

“Will you bear witness to our words?” Aethelfrid asked, looking over at Baurus. “If you will, say your name before the gods, that they might know you.”

Gamely, he stepped forward. “I am Baurus of Port Hunding, and I will bear witness.”

“Thank you. In the names of the Hearth Gods, I make this vow,” Aethelfrid intoned, tears threatening in her eyes. “Mother Kyne, hear our words as we join ourselves together. In the name of your handmaiden Mara, I name myself wife to Martin Septim. May Dibella prepare the way for our future together, and may you guide us ever onward, Great Mother.”

Martin’s voice cracked with emotion, all of his practiced, priestly ways gone as he replied, “In the name of the Hearth Gods, and of Akatosh, I make this vow. Mother Kyne, hear our words as we join ourselves together. In the name of Mother Mara, I name myself husband to Aethelfrid Bright-Spear. May Dibella prepare the way for our future together, and may we be ever guided by the Great Mother, as I am also guided by Akatosh.”

Baurus looked between them both, and nodded with all solemnity. "I have heard and witnessed these vows. May they stand for all of your lives, and may you live well together in them."

The tears overflowed over Aethelfrid's cheeks. "Thank you, Baurus."

"Of course, my lady Champion. Why don't we go in, and you two retire for the night? I'll make sure you have a meal and that no one bothers you."

The night passed most beautifully, and filled with love.

+++

“It’s too late…” Martin whispered as they watched the giant, four-armed Prince swing his axe.

“What do we do?” Aethelfrid wound her fingers into his, gripping them tightly.

“There is one thing I could try. I found… I found an apocryphal account of a Shout, barely legible… I never tested it, but… I need to get to the Temple of the One. It’s the only chance.”

“I’ve got your back.”

They wound through the streets, Aethelfrid and Baurus fighting off whatever daedra came their way until they stood in the temple. Martin turned and put his hands on Aethelfrid’s shoulders.

“I don’t know if this will work, or if I’ll survive. But if it banishes the daedra for good, it’ll be worth it.”

“Martin…”

“I love you, Aethelfrid. No matter what happens, I will always love you.”

“And I love you, Martin.”

They kissed once; quickly, violently, and with a desperate need. Then Martin turned away, and walked to where the Dragonfires would have been lit. Instead, he took the Amulet of Kings from around his neck and held it up.

“Great Akatosh, let my dragon’s blood be strong and true! Mother Kyne, let my Voice be as the storm itself! Give me your power, so that Mehrunes Dagon cannot stand before me! MUL… QAH DIIV!”

As he Shouted, he threw the Amulet to the ground. It smashed, and gold light raced around him, becoming ethereal horns, spikes, and claws. Martin grew taller within this power until he dwarfed Aethelfrid, and then continued to grow as he made his way out of the temple until he was nearly as tall as the Daedric Prince. Fire streamed from his eyes like he was Akatosh himself.

Mehrunes Dagon turned, hefting his axe and grinning. But Martin grinned back, and his teeth were sharp. His Shouts were like the roars of a dragon. “ZUN... HAAL VIIK!”

The axe flew out of Dagon’s hand, and Martin caught it as it sailed past. The Prince stared, surprised, and Martin knew that this was his chance, and he had to take it. If not, he might not get another.

“KRII… LUN AUS!” Dagon staggered as the Shout hit him, weakening him.

“FO… KRAH DIIN!” Crystals of ice appeared on his skin, and he began to stumble sluggishly as the cold assailed him.

“FUS… RO DAH!” The force of the Shout shattered bones as it threw Dagon backwards. His flight was brought up short as he crashed into the steps of the palace, causing an earthquake to ripple outwards and rattle the city around them.

“WULD… NAH KEST!” Dagon had not even recovered his feet before Martin appeared before him, moving with preternatural speed. And before he could react, Martin swung the axe into his neck, separating head from body. An angry light seared through the city, and then Mehrunes Dagon was gone, sent back to Oblivion.

+++

Aethelfrid raced through the streets toward the palace, cutting down any daedra in her path. She had to get to Martin! She had to make sure he was… that he was okay. If not… if not then she would have to fight on, and hope for some miracle. That was her only thought, even as the ground rocked, nearly knocking her from her feet. She had to get to Martin!

She raced across the bridge just as searing red light washed over everything. When it was gone, so was Dagon. Only a gold light remained, shrinking and growing fainter.

“No! Mother Kyne, please! Please don’t let it be…” the fervent whispers tore from her lips as she raced to the stairs. Martin, once again himself, lay at the bottom, unmoving. With a cry, she threw herself to the ground. Gathering him into her arms, she began to sob. He was so still… so… empty. She clung to him, painful cries bursting from her chest.

Time slowed to a crawl, the world lost all meaning. What meaning could there be, if he was gone? Would she be a widow, just as her goddess was? Would Kyne escort Martin to her husband's table? He had certainly proved himself worthy of Sovngarde, and he had the blood of the dragon and the Thu’um within him. If Cyrods were allowed to enter Sovngarde. If not…

Martin’s body shuddered and he let out a ragged gasp. As he opened his eyes, he murmured, “Aethelfrid?”

“Martin? Oh, thank the gods!” She kissed him over and over. “I thought you were…”

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me,” he joked. He held up his left hand where half of the red cord was tied. “I made a promise.”

“Thank the gods for that.”

+++

A week later they came again to the Temple of the One. There were no Dragonfires, no Amulet of Kings, as there had been before. This was instead a new beginning, a new Age, where such things were no longer needed.

And Martin and Aethelfrid were not the same as a week ago, either. Martin wore an elegant, but simple, fur-trimmed robe, his crimson shirt bearing the Imperial dragon embroidered in gold. The dragon that now felt much closer to him, much more real. Aethelfrid wore a gown of blue brocade, her flame orange curls artfully arranged in an elaborate style. The only constant was the red cords they wore around their wrists, and the way they smiled at one another.

But at that moment they knelt before a priest of Akatosh, his voice celebratory. "I will ask you both to take the vows of office.”

He looked to Martin first. “Will you swear today that, in taking the mantle of Emperor, that you will accept the duties and responsibilities that it represents? Will you govern the peoples of your territories fairly according to the laws and customs, and that you render judgements in accordance with said laws?”

“I do so swear.” Martin’s voice was as calm and even as ever, betraying no hint of any nervousness he might be feeling.

“Do you swear to uphold the will and the laws of the Nine Divines? That they may be given proper veneration in all things?”

“I will.”

“Then, in the sight of your people and in this Temple of the Great Akatosh, I confer upon you the Crown of Emperor, and all the duties and privileges that extend from that. May your reign be long and prosperous.” The priest held out a large crown, and with reverence, placed it on Martin’s head.

He then turned to Aethelfrid. “Will you swear today that, in taking the mantle of Empress, that you will accept the duties and responsibilities that it represents? Will you govern the peoples of your territories fairly and according to the laws and customs and that you render judgements in accordance with said laws?”

“I do swear.” Her voice came out strongly, more so than she’d expected. But now was the time to be strong, after all. The people needed that right now.

“Do you swear to uphold the will and the laws of the Nine Divines? That they may be given proper veneration in all things?”

“I will.” It was an odd question for Aethelfrid, as she didn’t exactly follow the Divines, but rather the Nordic gods. But she decided not to make an issue of it. As long as she could do her job according to the proper laws, did it really matter? She didn’t think so.

“Then, in the sight of your people and in this Temple of the Great Akatosh, I confer upon you the Crown of Empress, and all the duties and privileges that extend from that. May your reign be long and prosperous.”

Aethelfrid’s crown was smaller and more delicate than Martin’s, but still carried weight as it settled on her head. This was it. There was no going back now. But any nervousness was gone. Now that it was done, all she felt was a sense of purpose. There was so much to do, there was no time to be afraid. It was time to get things done. And they would. Their people would be safe and would thrive. They would make sure of that.

The priest held up his hands, now addressing both them and the crowd. “Rise now, and stand before your people. Rise, Emperor Martin Septim and Empress Aethelfrid Bright-Spear, both first of their names.”

Martin and Aethelfrid stood together, grasping each other’s hand. Sharing a smile, they turned, facing their people for the first time as rulers.

The crowd cheered with deafening joy, ushering in the Fourth Era.

The official portraits of Emperor Martin Septim and Empress Aethelfrid Bright-Spear. Descriptions in alt text. Made with Meiker character games.

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Shouts Martin uses:

Unrelenting Force

Whirlwind Sprint

Disarm

Frost Breath

Marked for Death

Dragon Aspect

Note: I have no idea what the Imperial vow of office would be. I based these off of the vow of office made by Queen Elizabeth II and altered them as needed.

#tesfest23 #tesfest23!#tes fest 23 #free day #last day #tes iv #tes iv oblivion #tes oblivion #oblivion au #au fic #martin septim #oc: aethelfrid bright-spear #martin septim x nord hok #no canon here #wishful thinking #long fic #long read

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fromthedragonswake · 1 year

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i've never kept a ldb beyond their initial playthrough bc i tire of them so easily BUT i finally have one i'm keeping i think

info on her below the cut

GENERAL

Name: Liavinne Varro Alias[es]: Vin is what she introduces herself as, less out of necessity and more just the fact she's not a fan of her full name. friends get to call her Vinnie Gender: female Age: 28 Race: half breton, half imperial. she's got some bosmer & nord ancestry in there as well Birthdate: 4E 173 Place of birth: Cyrodiil Hometown: Bruma Spoken language[s]: tamrielic [common tongue]. gods help her if anyone tries to communicate with her via anything else Sexual preference: bisexual Occupation: is "Dragonborn" an acceptable professional occupation? if not, she'll write herself down as adventurer

APPEARANCE

Eye color: light blue [relevant] Hair color: very dark brown Height: 5'7" / 169 cm Scars: several on her face, received during her time in the synod conclave via an altercation with a summoned scamp

FAVORITE

Colour[s]: can't pick a favourite, maybe purple and red shades? Instrument: drums! lutes and flutes are nice and all, but nothing soothes her as much as the sound of a steady drum Food: plain meat stews. if you give her anything with seasonings she may keel over and die Drink: ale

HAVE THEY

Passed university: she comes from Bruma, she has no formal education LMAO Had sex: no Kissed a boy: yes Kissed a girl: yes Gotten tattoos: she's thought about it but no Gotten piercings: no, the idea of having a hole in her skin frightens her Been in love: not truly Wanted to kill someone: barring out of self defense? yes, and she feels terrible about it

ARE THEY

A virgin: ya A cuddler: yes A kisser: sure Scared easily: yes Jealous easily: no Single: i made her with the intention of romancing Taliesen or Gore but idk! she's single for now

RANDOM QUESTIONS

Have / had a job: nothing formal, just odd jobs here and there Have any fears: loneliness, death, vampires, daedric influence, having no purpose

FAMILY

Parent[s]: Jullus Varro [father] and Florianne Maborel [mother] Sibling[s]: she's an only child Children: in this economy? Other immediate family: Lyon Varro [uncle] and Marius Varro [grandfather] Notable ancestor[s]: Martin Septim [great great grandfather], Cyella Stenric [great great grandmother and my HoK], Uriel Septim VII [great great great grandfather I GUESS]. she doesn't find out until she meets Sheogorath Pets: no. maybe in the future when she's settled down, right now she'd feel too bad leaving a pet at home while she adventures

MISC TRIVIA

Song[s] I associate with her: Your Answer - Masayoshi Soken, Close in the Distance - Masayoshi Soken

#i need to actually write down her story.......#rest assured that the chosen hero does have an arc where she questions why she was chosen #the answer is that she does it all for love and to protect nirn and it's people

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hannah-heartstrings · 1 year

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Oblivion readers, I think you might finally get to meet the other three Heroes of Kvatch soon!

I know I've mentioned that there are others and that they belong to other people, but I haven't explained it much so:

Back in like, 2007, me, my mom, dad, and brother were all playing Oblivion and one day I went, "What if our characters traveled together?" And it was canon ever since. Two warriors, a mage, and a thief all end up in the same jail cell and are told they now have to save the world together.

Lecrinn is written about the most because, for one, she's mine, but she's also the most developed. Because younger me did that instead of actually playing the game. Also I've recently restarted her, developing her even more, and they haven't played for 10+ years.

Still, I love their characters, I love the ideas we come up with together, and though I often write Lecrinn as the only HoK, I still consider the four HoKs version to be the canon one. (Though at this point I basically have two timelines but that's a whole mess and another post.)

So I've been working on a scene for a while and it's almost finished! It might not really be the best introductory scene (because writing that one didn't work out) but it's a fun one and I can't wait to show you guys.

(And if you're wondering, they've all given me permission to write their characters and post it.)

#hero of kvatch #oblivion fanfiction #oblivion #the elder scrolls #tes #tes ocs #tes oc #fanfiction #writing #my writing

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shivering-isles-cryptid · 1 year

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Daedra of Kvatch minor details

Been a while since I’ve written anything for this AU, so here’s some random details that don’t have too much of an impact on the main story. The AU has changed quite a bit since my last posts about it, so I thought I’d just throw in some minor stuff, like secondary character backstories and small quirks about HoK, who still doesn’t have an actual name. I’m thinking Samael or Weylin.

HoK has a Breton woman named Alice who keeps just showing up in his palace and not even the guards knows how she gets in. She keeps saying that a cat, rabbit, and mouse let her in through a secret door, but no one has been able to find any of the mentioned creatures. She is currently the acting Duchess of Mania.

HoK does actually know the cat Alice is talking about, but he refuses to say anything because he finds the whole thing absolutely hilarious.

HoK has made an extra artifact since he became MadGod and became more familiar with his powers. It’s a necklace that he gave to Martin. It has a powerful shield enchantment, as well as resistances to all types of magic, disease and poison.

HoK sometimes forgets he’s Sheogorath and will be surprised anytime he does something daedric-y.

The first, and only, time HoK was there for a christening of a baby (would it be a divining? An akatoshening?) the baby gained an unbreakable tie to the Isles. Her hair yearned stark white, and her magical pools grew to unwarranted amounts. She later grew up to be the worlds strongest conjured, mystic, alteration mage, destruction mage, and illusionist. She later became HoK’s apprentice.

After the Oblivion Crisis ended, the hero who went into Mankato Camorans Paradise and later became the Champion of Cyrodiil, later remade the Knights of the Nine and vowed to wipe the Daedra from Tamriel. This makes things awkward between them and HoK.

Martin and HoK actually had 2 wedding ceremonies. One in the Shivering Isles and one in Cyrodiil.

HoK founded a museum in the Imperial City, where he stores multiple artifacts he comes across in his journey, and where CoC stores the ones they come across as well.

HoK regularly travels to Skingrad to have tea with Count Janus, as well as a few other guests of varying afflictions. The regulars are a werewolf, a lich, and a Dunmer woman who says she was cured of Corprus. HoK calls these meetings Outcast Anonymous. Janus calls them Sundas brunch, even though they almost always start at 11:25 p.m.

The other Daedric Princes have different emotions about HoK. Some (Dagon, Molag, Namira, and Nocturnal) despise him for his ability to walk on Mundas, others (Malacath, Hircine, Sanguine, the True Tribunal occasionally, and Clavicus Vile) actually like him and hang out with him quite often, the others don’t really pay him any mind.

HoK works part time as a teacher for the Arcane University about proper etiquette when working with Daedra and how to safely traverse the planes of Oblivion.

He has a pet. It’s a ferret named Hircine. Hircine pretends to hate it, but he is in love with the Baby Hircine™️ as he calls it when he thinks HoK isn’t looking

Martin does his very best to accept HoKs station and nature, but it is hard when he can feel the presence of his old master, Sanguine, on his husband.

There are no mirrors in the entire Imperial Palace except for one, which is inside HoK’s private library, which not even Martin is allowed inside.

It’s not very rare for insane people to show up at the Palace. Martin doesn’t know how to feel about them, as HoK finds their antics either amusing or annoying depending on the day, instead of sad and pitiful as Martin does

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sylvienerevarine · 1 year

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an Oblivion fic in which I attempt to justify my HoK's terrible life choices

"Everyone is highly disappointed in you, Crusader."

The Prophet's tone was more pitying than disapproving, and Sacha had the sudden urge to slap him. "Believe me, I know," she replied, keeping her voice neutral. "It's all people talk about when they meet me. 'Oh Sacha, we thought you were a holy warrior, but it turns out you're as awful as anyone!' I'd like to know what makes my moral compass their business."

"Can you blame them for being confused?" the Prophet demanded. "You faithfully served the gods, helped defeat Mehrunes Dagon, assembled the Crusader's Relics... and suddenly you turn your back on your holy order of knights to become a petty criminal. What are we meant to make of that?"

"What good are the Crusader's Relics to me?" Sacha shot back. "Oh, they were helpful in getting rid of Umaril, but none of this went the way I hoped. I couldn't..." She bit off the end of her sentence. "Never mind."

"Couldn't what, Sacha?" the Prophet asked, his voice more gentle now.

Sacha looked down at her feet, feeling about ten years old. "I couldn't bring Martin back," she said quietly. "I thought if I had the armor, if I had the gods' favor, I could summon his spirit back from the other world. But it didn't work."

"We all mourn Martin, sister..."

"You didn't know Martin," Sacha interrupted. "Not as a person. He was my best friend, my brother, and I failed him. I couldn't protect him, I couldn't protect my sister Falura, I couldn't do anything. In the end, what does it matter if I'm a hero or a thief? It makes no difference to those I've lost."

The Prophet shook his head. "And the countless lives you've saved? Do they mean nothing?"

"Not nothing, and yet not enough, either." Sacha sighed. "I'm sorry to have disappointed you."

"There is hope for you yet, Sacha Llervu," said the Prophet. "But beware. If your actions do not change, I predict for you a path of madness and chaos, far beyond the world of what is good and just."

Sacha refrained from saying what was on her mind: that at this point in her life, chaos and madness sounded fairly suitable.

#oblivion #tes #elder scrolls #oblivion fic #meet sacha she's an utter mess

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azures-grace · 7 months

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BIG FREAKING TES 4: OBLIVION SPOILERS BELOW

(Hello mutuals, I wrote it out)

Okay so basically

I FREAKING love Oblivion so much. Yes, the character design is a... Bit odd to say the least, but the story is SO good.

Skyrim could never have TWO quests with incredibly complex plots involving lots of murder, and yet, here this 2006 game does. Oblivion literally gave us one plot about a cult that was in a negative light (main quest) and one about a cult in a positive light (dark brotherhood) and I love that. Nuance. I think it really shows how being IN the cult can change your perspective. And I think it's important to remember that everybody in the Mythic Dawn was a person. Also Mankar Camoren was half Altmer and half Bosmer and that is so cool and Skyrim could probably never fathom a mixed character with that much importance (even if he is the villain).

SPEAKING of Mankar Camoren (probably one of my favorite antagonists, up there with like, Dagoth Ur in terms of complexity ((you can fight me on this, I don't care, I think Camoren is neat even if I hate him for being responsible for killing babygrill Martin))) he had such an interesting narrative and like, the fact that he roped his kids into his cult? And how Paradise/the savage garden is actually just hell and all of the Mythic Dawn people were duped? OOH! I love it. I also dig how there's that one guy in the forbidden grotto that clearly had a high enough ranking in the cult to not be tortured by the Daedra and, in fact, be trusted with the torture of his fellow (dead) members, and yet he TURNED BACK and decided to help the Hero of Kvatch??? OOOOOH COMPLEXITY

Also Camoren did Oblivion realms in books before Hermaus Mora made it cool

Changing topics, I really love how the factions ACTUALLY required progression! You aren't just the arch mage without having any magical abilities aside from like, casting one minor spell. I legitimately, during my first playthrough, thought the Arcane University was the end of the Mages' Guild quest line IT'S NOT(????) You can apparently become arch mage and little me's brain would have an aneurysm. Fighter's guild? Starts off as just being paid to fight, gets a plot later (and a sick one at that)??

And the leaders of the guild don't just... Die and then you get promoted. The Fighters' Guild leader "retires" and then comes back to help you. The leader of the Mages' Guild sacrifices himself so you don't get Mannimarco'd. Heck, for the Dark Brotherhood, Lucien, who I'm pretty sure most of us see as the head of the Brotherhood, WASNT EVEN THE HEAD. he was a SPEAKER, the HoK killed Ungolim, man. (Also the fact that you can kill Lucien when you meet him [which younger me did I had to roll back so much] is wacky.)

For all the issues of the random NPCs, a lot of them have distinct personalities. I might struggle telling you the difference between the Companions aside from like... Aela and Vilkas and Farkas, but I can totally tell you the personality of most of the Imperial City merchants?

ALSO THE HAGGLE AND DISPOSITION FEATURES

I don't really like the disposition mini game, but it's really interesting from a straight up rollplay standpoint because good people probably aren't trying to manipulate people into liking them. And it makes leveling up Personality or whatever so much easier.

I also love the way the landscape looks. The different regions have different flora and it's so interesting. Also there's just random minotaurs and land dreughs too (I prolly spelled that wrong)

Also, I am so so so madly in love with Martin and his whole character and I LOVE how he has growth from this timid lil priest guy to he's LEADING THE CHARGE at the Great Gate, but he doesn't ever let his power get to him. He's a very humble guy, but he's in no way penalized for that. He's not a super macho man, but he's not shown as like, weak or effeminate for liking to read and hide away. Heck, he's respected and well loved because he's not full of himself and he's treating all the Blades with respect himself. He has conversations with them where he's actively trying to just level with them and interact. I honestly think if he'd not sacrificed himself at the end to defeat Dagon, he'd have been the Numa equivalent for the Empire (get Roman Empire'd lmao) and would have probably focused on the scholarly and/or religious.

Also all the badass women, guys. That's so cool to see. Milona Umbranox is ruling Anvil ALL by herself, through her incredible grief at the loss of her husband, and even when you bring Count Umbranox back, she's STILL in charge, guys. It's so cool so cool. I'll get back to the Umbranoxes in a sec. This might just be me, but I really really liked Caroline. I'd talk to her every time I was at Cloud Ruler Temple and I still do. And like, Telaendril is so dope, bro. She literally outran her killer long enough to kill her father.

Ok, the Umbranoxes and the Thieves' Guild now. I freaking love the Thieves' Guild. It's such a cool questline. You have to start it by talking to beggars, because the guild really cares about the beggars, bro. The Thieves' Guild is almost certainly the people who help the beggars, change my mind. But like the fact that the Grey Fox is literally stealing an Elder Scroll just because he can is epic. The reunion of Corvus and Milona Umbranox was so sweet.

Additionally, I love how you can't just speed run the quests. Especially the main quest, it's an actual threat because you're constantly bombarded by Oblivion Gates and that makes fast travel really difficult. You have to take at LEAST 10 days to do the main quest. Actual progression, yippee!

And there's so many good side quests, too, like, I love the one where you go into a painting to get this painter out, and if I remember correctly, his dad was a really good painter but then lost his ability to use his hands or something so Dibella made him a paintbrush so he could keep painting. Disability rep?? In a 2006 game?? Hello????

I ain't even got to the Shivering Isles yet, holy crap. The amount of love I have for that DLC.

I don't think there is ever going to be a DLC like the Shivering Isles ever again, as sad as it is to think about that. That DLC was probably the most fleshed out think I've played in a long time that isn't fanmade. There was a whole new area to explore, where you choices actually affected the world. Also, the complexity of all the characters and their different flavors of problems from a hypochondriac to paranoia, to obsessive collecting, to depression... It was really interesting to see all these different characters with their issues.

And Sheogorath himself was super cool too! Wes Johnson had such a dope performance (and looks like the prince too, lmao) and honestly brought so much life to the character and his insanity. The Greymarch was almost like the Shivering Isles' personal Oblivion Crisis, with Beacons of Order poppin up like Oblivion Gates all over the Isles.

And the difference between Haskill and Dyus is so funny to me because they both seem so done with their respective Daedric Princes.

Anyway, I love this game so much and I really hope TES 6 is closer to Oblivion than Skyrim.

#elder scrolls #tes oblivion #very long post

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lieutenantsleepyhead · 1 year

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❛In the shadow of evil, From the ashes of an empire, a hero will rise. The gates of oblivion have been opened and the battle has begun. Fate is in one's hands❜

¡Meet my Hok, Maxine! She exhausted trying to survive in deadlands.

#hero of kvatch #oblivion #oblivion art #tes oblivion #tes art #tes ocs #the elder scrolls #oc: maxine liorelli #elder scrolls

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archersartcorner · 2 years

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Replaying TES made me wanna remake references for my primary OCs… so Sven first!

Here's a link to Po, my HoK!

And a link to Val, my LDB!

IDs under cut!

[ID: Two character reference images, both for the same character, done digitally in procreate.

The first image shows the character, Sven, from the chest up. He's a dark elf, with dark, muted, purple skin; muted, dark red hair, that's jaw-length and swept back; red eyes; a hooked nose; and a light beard. His skin is dotted with golden "freckles," and there are some bigger blots of golden skin in some areas, will mention explicitly in the second reference. He's wearing a dark, sleeveless turtleneck with a chest window, and a red, half-sided robe covering his left half (viewers right). His left hand is raised to his chest, showing a ring with a moon and star. Notes around the portrait read: "Sven Moon-and-Star (as he appears by 4E 201) / The Forgotten Nerevarine, despite the name. / House Telvanni Master, officially lives with Neloth during the time of Skyrim. Somehow tolerates the mer. / Master Conjuror. Maybe can bear Neloth because Neloth knows he's better than him at just this one magic school, just the one. / With most others, Sven is quiet and humble about his past. He still remains humble, but opens himself more to Valerio when he's revealed to be the Last Dragonborn, as Sven remembers how lonely and overwhelming it was to be prophecy-stricken."

The second image is a full body picture of Sven with selective coloring, a reference of where Sven's scars and marks are located, at least on the front of his body. The image also shows Sven is rather muscular, if a little thin. Notable marks (viewers perspective) are the yellow freckle-like marks dotting most of his body; bigger yellow splotches on his upper left head, lower right jaw, right shoulder, left pec, right wrist, left hand, left hip, right thigh, left calf, and right leg; red scars, a small one on the left of his lip, two on his right ear, four in a downward movement on his right shoulder, one on his right arm, one on his left arm, a smaller, circular scar below his left pec, two bruise-shaped marks on his left and right hip/waist, five horizontal scars on his left thigh, and two scars on both of his legs where they meet the feet, a smaller one on his left foot, and a bigger one on his right. There's a purple, crescent-moon shaped mark on his right pec, covered by a yellow star-shaped mark. There are many notes surrounding the image, the first read: "Scar Reference for Sven / Info: / The small yellow dots are from the Corprus. When it was healed, the smaller bloats turned golden. Look like freckles. / The large yellow blots are also from Corprus, from larger bloats that shrunk and left golden skin behind upon healing. / Red is scarring from battle. / Purple is a birthmark." Pointing at the four scratches, reads: "These four scars came from Dagoth Ur and his fucking claws." Next to the birthmark, reads: "The purple moon shape is a birthmark. The star came after "curing" Corprus." Next to the arm scar on the right, reads: "This scar and the one on the other arm are from Almalexia." Pointing to the small scar below his left pec, reads: "From Vivec, post-Red Mountain." Pointing to the two large bruise-like scars, reads: "These two big ass chunks are from Hircine." Next to the five horizontal scars on his thigh, reads: "Self inflicted." And finally, next to the scars on his lower legs, reads: "After becoming Hlaalu Hortator, he was captured and interrogated by Ordinators for weeks. It was a traumatizing experience, but these particular physical scars haven't gone away. Limits his mobility, but he levitates 99% of the time, so it's mostly unnoticeable." END ID.]

#tw: self harm #tw: self harm scars #tw: scars #just wanna make sure i get those before tagging whatever else #my art #oc: sven #morrowind #elder scrolls #described #nerevarine #gay af to be a conjuror. what are you conjuring? other men?#he does do that actually... his favorite summon is his dremora lord friend. gay boy #the quest where folks in sadrith mora mention that neloth cant possibly be summoning ghosts in the hotel cus he Sucks at conjuration #is one of the funniest with the added impact of neloth in skyrim LMAO this why you like enchanted rods huh. cant cast a conjuration spell.#taako voice kind of a shitty wizard #YOU ASK NELOTH ABOUT IT AND HE GETS ALL DEFENSIVE. LIKE NO ITS NOT HIM BUT HE CAN DO THAT IF HE WANTED TO DONT GET IT TWISTED-#also yes sven gave himself that last name. also yes vehk tried Foul Murder 2!!!!!!!!!! and failed #for the most part tho sven isnt so heavily scarred. usually hes able to heal himself up - the ones that linger are the ones he didn't have-#-the magicka to put back together. or ones that also correlate to emotional trauma. cus im a sucker for that #just atronach things: NO MAGICKA??? OUT OF MAGICKA??? CANT RECALL OR INTERVENE????????? /NO POTIONS???????/

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