#netch leather

[igorlevchenko-blog]

Morrowind: Portrait of Percius Mercius, former master of Fighters Guild on Vvardenfell. Ald'ruhn Year 3E 428.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

So another Teldryn schlock piece because I just can't help myself. Had a new idea about that painted netch leather and had to design it. So officially he wears this weird gridiron netch leather chest piece that he's boredom scribbled on. That and the chitin leather monstrosity! Rat's turned Mad Max Chic so quickly, I didn't even realise it happened.

[choilacanth]

da na na na naaa... it’s the netch episode

 (old sketch from 9/2022 based on a GK manga frame, lined and painted this week between working on comms.)

[ambarys]

I will be assigned to bug test Suran next. Fun!

[venacoeurva]

I don’t know if I just can’t figure it out, but the follower outfit mod I have wouldn’t let me let Tel go back into his chitin armor as default armors were only presets in the mod (steel, leather, iron, etc.), so I had to (read: decided to because it felt wrong for him to wear anything else) run around Solstheim and decimate multiple reaver spawn areas to get him a full set (and then upgrade all of it) because I spent almost all Wren’s gold on buying Dwemer furniture for one of the hearthfire houses you build because I have Interact

The things I do for you, you little shit

[foamimi]

[jiubilant]

armor mods for skyrim se that i've downloaded and enjoy:

realistic armor

practical female armors

falconer armor

gilded doublet

armors of the velothi (a non-hdt port with no prerequisite mods; if you're modding-savvy, check out the original armors of the velothi and its sequel for a vastly expanded wardrobe with movement physics)

illusive infiltrator

studded heavy armor

netch leather armor

cyrodilic thief

bucket helmet

these all feel lore-friendly and in-keeping with the aesthetics of the vanilla game. especially bucket helmet :)

[merrimentsmight]

Cicero and Listener gathering flowers for Mother, then killing people who're bounty hunting the Listener and then just having a cute camp/picnic while still covered in blood,,,,, that's my favourite daydream of Cici

Mother needed dragon's tongue, Cicero said. He would always bring her flowers, and make sure they were fresh and fragrant. It was sweet, and it made him happy. The Listener suspected it made Mother happy, too. So they were picking dragon's tongue off the side of the road south of Windhelm. The Listener was being careful, picking only a few blossoms from each plant to keep them growing and healthy. Cicero was less calculating, and picked whichever ones he thought best, even if that was every flower the plant had to offer. When they had a full basket of flowers, the Listener rested, sitting on the side of a stone ledge, and began to pick wild jazbay grapes, popping some of the sweet berries into their mouth and adding some to the over-crowded basket.

Cicero kept gathering flowers. They watched him flit about in the late afternoon sun, mumbling and laughing to himself and looking, gods bless him, content. “And there was the one with the, no, no that won't do, too crass. Oh, terribly, terribly crass. But perhaps if I reworded it...” he mumbled to himself, following a train of thought whose beginning and end were as obfuscated to himself as anyone else. They were so caught up in looking at him that they didn't notice the quickly approaching footsteps on the road behind them, despite the fact that they were far from stealthy.

“Well!" said Cicero sharply, catching the Listener's attention, “It looks like we have company. Should Cicero set another place at the table?” The rest of the world came back into focus, and they hopped off of the ledge to stand next to him.

“Perhaps it's nothing," they said, as the group approached, "perhaps they'll just keep walking.” They both hoped that it was not nothing, and that they would be stupid enough to make trouble. They both got their wish.

“You! We know who you are,” said one of them, a thick-accented Dunmer near the front.

"Oh?” They asked, clutching the basket of flowers like an innocent youth. A sentiment undercut by Cicero's grim laughter.

“Yeah.” He returned, stepping dangerously closer, “and ever since what you did to the Emperor you've got a mighty fine price on your head, too.” He was in leather armor, as were most of his cadre, and the leather was from cows and not netches. They hadn't traveled too terribly far for the bounty. The Listener wondered how far rumors had spread, and who was spreading them. They had gone to great lengths to remove witnesses in the past.

“Do you have proof, or are you going to execute me on your hunch alone?” They asked.

“Please. You have the jester with you. There's only one little redheaded jester in all of Skyrim, far as I know, and he's your one.”

“Oh! Cicero feels terribly special,” he said, knives already drawn. But he did like that idea of possession, that even strangers knew who he was, and who the Listener was, and that he was theirs.

The Listener smiled in that way they did, sharp and nasty, that made Cicero's heart start beating even faster than the thrill of the impending fight did. The good name of the Dark Brotherhood had been tarnished so badly that these poor men had no idea what they were up against. The man reached for the sword on his belt, and Cicero, like a well trained attack dog, pounced.

He cut the man's throat before anyone knew what was happening. A spray of blood issued from the wound and covered Cicero and the Listener and the basket of flowers, which the Listener set gingerly behind them before drawing their own weapons and advancing to join Cicero in the throng. They made quick work of the rest of the bounty hunters, who reacted slowly, as if they had been expecting the assassins to surrender when outnumbered.

“Mash and bash and swipe and clash! Ha!” laughed Cicero, sidestepping to avoid overturning the discarded baskets of flowers, “nobody gets the best of the Dark Brotherhood.” The Listener allowed themself to laugh with him. When it was all said and done, they were ringed by the bodies of the dead and dying, sitting among the flowers and leaning on each other to laugh like children. By the time they stopped fighting, and then stopped laughing, the moons had come out.

“Oh,” said the Listener, pushing away from where Cicero had clutched them in his helpless mirthful peals, “I suppose we'll have to set up here for the night.”

“Mmhm,” said Cicero, still giggling. He lowered his bloody head onto their lap and popped a blood-splattered grape from their basket into his mouth. “Whatever you say, my Listener.”

[dalamusrex]

(Late) TESfest23: Forgotten/Devotion

Image ID: A paper and pencil drawing of a child's netch toy peeking out of a leather shoulder bag. The bag is being carried on the shoulder of someone not pictured aside from an arm and hand holding the shoulder strap. The netch toy has some extra stitching in places of wear and tear. End ID.

[bluepwnsu]

Xelzaz Version 1.9.0 is now live!

The update features predominantly a revoice of the Main Quest commentary, as well as revoicing a bunch of older lines. There is also a whole new personal quest, and new stories for Xelzaz to tell, as he gets closer with the player! Here are the patch notes:

Xelzaz Version 1.9.0

Bug Fixes and Typos - Fixed an issue with Xelzaz’s DB Commentary where I was checking for the wrong global. - Tweaked and cleaned the navmesh added around the Hammerfell Gate that allows Xelzaz to pass through it. - Fixed some typos.

Additions - Added more sneaking lines. - Added more combat lines. - Added more opinion aware lines. - Added new greet lines. - Added new general idles. - Added new context aware idles. - Xelzaz will now drop his preserved Hist leaf on death. - Added new stories for Xelzaz to tell the player as your friendship progresses. - Added new minor gifts to give Xelzaz. Minor gifts will not boost Xelzaz’s relationship before he has received 3 of them, which then resets the counter and grants +1 opinion. The minor gifts include: Venison Horker Meat Nirnroot Raw Beef Boar Tusk Netch Jelly Salmon Roe Vampire Dust Netch Leather Chitin Plate

Quests - Added a new quest: “Of Crimson”. The quest can be triggered by speaking to Xelzaz while either of you are carrying Crimson Nirnroot in Blackreach.

Quest Commentary - Completely revoiced Xelzaz's Main Quest commentary - Tweaked and added minor additions to Xelzaz's Main Quest commentary

Spells - Added ‘Stendarr’s Aura’ to the list of spells Xelzaz can learn.

Changes - Completely revoiced Xelzaz’s introduction. Also tweaked certain lines. - Completely revoiced nearly all of the questions you can ask Xelzaz and added additional lines. - Completely revoiced all the stories from Xelzaz’s past. - Reworked Xelzaz’s story from his past dialogue. - Increased the volume of Xelzaz’s theme that plays during his stories and allowed it to loop. - Changed the giant camp combat detection line to check that the enemy is in a giant’s camp, rather than Xelzaz. - Made it so that Xelzaz’s first time in Solstheim line will only happen when he is near you and you aren’t speaking to Adril. Also revoiced this line. - Added conditions to prevent Xelzaz from commenting on quests or speaking certain idles prior to recruitment. - Revoiced, reordered and reconditioned certain combat lines. - Gave all hug dialogue from “I’m Glad You’re Here” interactions the same prompt to prevent the topic menu from skipping. Revoiced and reconditioned certain hug lines. - Xelzaz will now stop moving for a short period of time when he gets a pebble in his shoe. - Xelzaz will now not speak general idles or start interactions while he is sleeping. Quest commentary may still happen even if Xelzaz is sleeping. - Made Xelzaz headtrack Dusty when making a comment on her. - Ever so slight edits to the scene where Xelzaz’s leaves for Hammerfell to make Xelzaz’s movements more natural. - The Reclamations conversation in the Tribunal Temple in Raven Rock has been completely reworked. Additional dialogue is available depending on if the player is a Dunmer, as well as Xelzaz’s relationship with the player. - Slightly altered the journal entry for ‘A Lawman’s Ambition’ should Xelzaz leave through the Hammerfell Gate to remove the suggestion that he may return at some point. - You can no longer gift Xelzaz Crimson Nirnroot.

Player Names Added four new player names, bringing the total to 65: 62 - Aria 63 - Khaj 64 - Solana 65 - Ren

Interactions - Added a variety of more interactions between Xelzaz and Remiel. Including (very) minor quest commentary on ‘Discerning the Transmundane’, ‘Ill Met by Moonlight’ and ‘Waking Nightmare’. As well as interactions while both are relaxing in different areas. But also lots of general dialogue and expansion on existing interaction branches. - Made sure certain Xelzaz-Remiel-Redcap scenes do not repeat OR they will rarely repeat if they’ve previously occurred.

[igorlevchenko-blog]

The way Delyna's grandfather Llerar Mandas tells it, you'd think the dastardly Lord-Wizard snatched the maiden from her ancestral manor, polymorphed as cloud of netches or something. Please—the girl was caught in leather catsuit, sneaking into Divayth's tower, geared up as burglar would: lockpicks, two glass swords and a magical ring of Chameleon—mademoiselle's frivolous attempt at "slumming", no doubt. Lenient as Lord Fyr is towards petty thieves—Delyna was merely put under arrest in the tower. She spend several weeks, enjoying hospitality of Fyrs before she was released unto a representative of House Redoran. That during these weeks her addled father, Arethan rampaged through the Ashlands alongside his gang of vagabonds—supposedly as means to cope with kidnapping of his daughter—can scarcely be blamed on House Telvanni, can it not? Truly, Delyna would have been released much sooner, if not for the real fear of her accidentally perishing en-route—Tel Fyr is fairly isolated place and the surrounding waters can be dangerous.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Finally settled on a design for Josh during 4th Era 199. Keeping the mullet, the mullet stays.

Fun addition of ritual scarification! Because why not?

[choilacanth]

tingly netch leather armor confirmed...

that said, netch leather seems to fit well with Darra’s fighting style, with it following some principle of absorbing and deflecting blows.

[thana-topsy]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @mareenavee ! Thank you, dear. And I know you tagged many people I might also tag, so I'll try to pick new people.

Tagging @kookaburra1701 @dirty-bosmer @viss-and-pinegar @moriche @expended-sleeper and @skyhon

---

So, I started in on this wip mostly because it was just a scenario that I wanted to see playing out in my brain. Isn't that how all writing begins? I'm not sure where it will go, if it'll ever be its own story, or anything, really. But I'm borrowing muldezgron's One-Eyed Teldryn from this fic, because he and Elanwe technically, exist in the same universe. On a collaborative technicality. Elanwe is from my fic "Hollow Men". And, of course, my unintentional muse, Kordin belongs to DirtyScrolls, who has so graciously given me their blessing to do whatever I want to him lmao. Wip below the cut, plus some art at the end:

--

“We’ve crossed paths before you know,” Elanwe said without making eye contact. Her gaze remained locked on her half-empty cup of ale. “In Windhelm. The day I–or, at least, I assume that was you. Same armor.”

Teldryn ran his tongue across his teeth then huffed a humorless laugh. “Ah, the mystery of the missing Thalmor prisoner. I was there, yes.” He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “You have quite the memory, sera. My memories from that day are… hazy, at best. Intentionally obscured by my own mind, at worst.” He drummed a finger against his own cup in agitation. “Kordin was… changed after that day. It probably goes unsaid, but he was unused to having his–” The word stuck in his throat, the hand on his knee tightening into an involuntary fist. “–his possessions taken from him.

She seemed to turn pensive, then took a long drink, draining the cup. “Did you know?” she asked sharply. “What he was doing?” 

Teldryn waited for her to meet his eye, then nodded. “I believe you know well by now what his preferred type was.”

“I’m gonna need more booze for this conversation,” she said, the skin around her mouth drawn tight, stretching the scar across her lip until it turned pale and bloodless. 

“That makes two of us,” Teldryn muttered to himself. “Get me one while you’re up. Greef, though. None of that Nordic swill.”  

Elanwe returned with two large bottles of greef, twisting the cork free of one and filling Teldryn’s cup. He offered a soft Dunmeris ‘cheers’ in response before taking a sip, letting the liquid rest against his tongue. He supposed he might as well talk about it. There was no one else to listen, as it stood. No one else who even wanted to, really. 

“I was in his service for three years,” he began. “Of course, if I’d known–” Another humorless laugh. “Well, it’s complicated.”

“Hence your prior hesitance to take on a new long-term patron, I take it.” 

Teldryn just nodded with a tight smile. “And we don’t have to dance around the subject. I know the way you Altmer are. Yes, he had his way. As often as he could. And I let him.”

Elanwe’s grip around her cup tightened. The soft curve of her lips twisted into a snarl, the corners of her eyes wet. “I wish I could kill him again. I wish–” Her jaw worked around the unsaid words.

“Like I said,” Teldryn continued after a beat of silence. “It was complicated.” 

He took a long drink, breathed through his nose, wiped his mouth on his netch leather bracer. Elanwe said nothing, the snarling distaste frozen on her face like a death mask, as if she could transmit the feeling through Teldryn and into the realm of the dead. 

Or wherever Kordin was. Teldryn was relatively sure he was in Coldharbour. 

“It wasn’t all bad, believe it or not,” he said after her prolonged silence showed no signs of ending. “Unlike your friend, I was not a literal prisoner. I had a modicum of–”

“Bullshit,” Elanwe spat. “I don’t want to hear it. So don’t even start.”

Teldryn managed to keep the surprised look from his face, and instead shrugged as casually as he could manage. “I suppose you’re right. There was always a part of me that hoped he’d… come to his senses, maybe. I was always searching for those moments of empathy. Some hint of regret… Anything.” Teldryn sighed and took another drink. “A fool’s hope. Something in that boy was broken long before he found me. But he was the Dragonborn…” Hollowness settled behind Teldryn’s sternum. “And now he’s dead.” 

Another doomed world without a prophet.

--

And now they're all I can think about... WHOOPS.

[ervona]

I was tagged by @nuwanders @wispstalk @profanetools @ghoulsbeard @aphoticfairy whew!!! thank you :D

now tagging @scuttling-void @morgiah @trinimac @libertineangel @kagrenacs + anyone who wants to, tried to see who already did it!

this tag game is about writing excerpts and I'll be taking them from my tes fest 23 fics, since they're new and I like how they turned out

A line from your fic that makes you laugh

“You tell me, with the way you went up, I suppose you’re a trained acrobat.” At least he had put away the knife, though the suspicion was going to be a harder bargain, no thanks to his own conduct. “I am an ordinary mortal, so springy for I was born in springtime.” (Day 4)

I hadn't put grown up Tredayn to paper before so I hoped to deliver his personality, and a bit of his parents' memorable characteristics. being bad at hiding his intentions and hitting you with such a dumb line somewhat nervously is perfect. also since the brothers are from Morrowind they must carry the burden of the game mechanic jokes. the following line about his birthday isn't as funny to me, it's moreso where the comedic tension between them falls. it's sad at that point

A line from your fic that makes you sad

The sky would take on each color of bruise soon enough, and having had her meal of scrib jerky she could only sit in silence with the offerings, wringing her hands with faint scratches left on them until it was time to conduct the ritual, perhaps on her own. There was no sorrow in that, for it made her holy bond even more special. (Day 2)

I tend to write characters who are very social, but faced with bouts and longer periods of soul-draining loneliness... Aranea is relatively comfortable up on her mountain compared to them, still the story here is a deep well of loneliness surrounded by joy and celebration. Aranea is beloved by her community but she could not truly be part of it. she never had much of a community around her as a sorceress before becoming a priestess, and she literally sees herself as too far gone now and more suited to stay a hermit dedicated to only Azura

A line from your fic you're proud of

Ancient bones distorted as in a dream were stuck in the glacial gullet of Hsaarik; less ancient ones lay half-buried in the snowdrift. Deep below the lights of the city, falling prey to something sharp was far too easy, but the fog of breath held no fear. She took the hand offered to her aglow in purpureal light and her step became lighter still, they could skip across the water like stones. (Day 1)

my first published tesfest entry, my beloved. I'm very fond of this bit because I have trouble visualizing and describing things, but it's still very lush to me, it conjures up such a magical feeling and makes me happy. it simply conveys the warmth between them in the eerie cold

A line for your fic you think could have been better

The king was dead. He was not the first Nordic tyrant to burn, though he was one of the few living–or unliving–men to receive such a simplified Dunmeri funeral. His killer wasn’t quite living either, but one was ash scattered over the sea, and the other was just floating face-down among the ice floes; a twist on the usual Morndas. (Day 4)

the goal here was as usual double meaning because he was already un/dead before being killed and it's me messing with how language around vampires has been used in the series. so the killer is another vampire, a Dunmer, burning an already dead man... a simple funeral without anything else it should contain. it reads so awkwardly and I don't hate it as much anymore but I wish it was a bit more refined...

A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character

She nibbled on a wickwheat biscuit as Uncle seemed to continue what he’d been talking about, his newly established netch ranch, the fine leather it brought, and she bit her tongue in frustration. Him and his blood-stained netch leather and the yoke that pulled lives and souls asunder.  (Day 7)

the secret sauce here that genuinely makes me angry was my own exasperation at many people around me. it just works like a charm!

A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww'

She hiccuped, and more than ever looked a mirror image of the bearling he found in the snow so long ago as if yesterday. A century could pass and she remained his baby, and he remained sworn to all ancestors and itinerant spirits to care for her. And she was shaking with worry, each tear reflecting a star. He wanted to cry with her too, even if it stained his spectacles. (Day 3)

beloved by readers, and so true. this whole story is full of moments that qualified so close here, so I picked out one. Llether is adorable, Merry even more so, and their relationship means so much to me :')

A line from your fic that's full of symbolism

Father ate rather delicately to not stain his bead-woven beard and mustache, and his younger brother followed the lead, though prior stabbing his cooked ornada without grace. The knife he sliced with, dueling the carapace, was as her cutlery gilt and engraved to go along with the ebony plating. Overhead the chandelier of green glass hung as a sword pointed at them, a thousand shimmering blades. (Day 7)

sword of dadmocles real. you have a sort of chain action going from Vedam to Orvas to Ilmeni and even as she doesn't describe her own eating habits, she is not perfectly self aware but she's also not right when portraying them in her mind as being in different worlds... the air of violence between them is at its highest in this moment though clearly restrained and some being less restrained than others. whew

A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg

She strode on the lookout for fish, drinking in the horizon that would at some point give way to the nascent sun.  In that direction, a once mighty craft cracked in twain on long since melted ice, since then picked clean by beasts and priests. They’d searched it up and down already, finding what they sought and the years had gone by until it was of little interest but a grim omen.  (Day 1)

they're north of Winterhold, east of it lies the Pride of Tel Vos which unfortunately was shipwrecked even in the au. I deliberated long on how to introduce Brand-Shei and whether to introduce Hidrya Olen. ended up going with neither, because I didn't get how and when she claimed the journal but she probably got on the ship to flee from the war. Brand-Shei is not identified beyond this and some clues at this point he's uncertain of himself on all terms. calling him by either of his known names didn't feel right for me, for him or for Merry here

A line from your fic that's shocking

One ought to know that a nix-hound was no match for a kagouti, such a spindly thing in comparison. But when a pack of nixes descended together, they could best the mightiest kagouti and leave nothing but bones. All creatures wished to survive, and some of them even wove secret arts through intricate magics to further lengthen their lives, but that didn’t necessarily keep them safe from harm. The tower would outlive its maker, and in turn make good use of him. (Day 5)

local mer harvested for his daedric armor. to be frank I find a lot of this tepid acceptance around Divayth Fyr to be annoying, and the insistence that nothing could have possibly killed him, so he's still alive. how about four of him unionizing against him, like it's hard... really the point of this story's introduction is for one to recognize a character with a big reputation then witness him casually killed off

A line from your fic you want to talk about more

“Hear me now, not because you are of my blood, but if it flows from out of a good heart,” she finally whispered back to him, not through the fire, through the very air itself. “Do not fear to wander, if your cause is just. Perhaps you could do right by what I gave my life for.” (Day 6)

Ervona Ules :) that's who I named myself after, I had adopted little Mavus at that point. the whole conversation between them is very telling of both characters but this refered to our primary source on Ervona, her student Melar Sadus. she was an interesting noble mer who fought against injustice and met a tragic end from it, Mavus is someone who may bring her legacy back. but will he? she definitely inspired him to grow beyond his comfort zone and listening to what his mother and mentor tell him. this is the heart of the prompt to me and I wanted to write it ever since I put Bound in a Bouquet out here, the older Mavus you see there is a product of the events in this story and of course Morrowind that happens in between. you'll see more...

[seeks-for-knowledge]

Netch

"I once came across a large Bull Netch with a fork stuck to its side, it looked painful. I couldn't help but take it out and treat the poor thing. Weirdly enough, the moment I touched the fork, I felt like my energy had been sapped away. Maybe it had a bit of Netch toxin on it?" - Seeks-For-Knowledge

The Netches are large aerial creatures hailing from Morrowind, and are typically docile unless their young are threatened. They stay airborne with the help of their internal sacks, which are filled with magical gases. Their tentacles have thread-like tubes that can deliver toxins to whoever they sting. Despite the danger posed by the venom, Netches are herbivores.

Aggression The male Netches are called bulls, and female ones are called betties. While Netches are docile by nature, if you see a youngling in distress, it is best not to approach if you know the adult ones are nearby. The younglings secrete a pheromone when they feel threatened, and that pheromone makes the bulls ready to attack whatever posed danger to their younglings. Despite having no venom, the smaller betty Netches are not to be underestimated either, as they tend to be more aggressive than the bulls, especially when they feel their territory is being threatened or it is the breeding season.

Typically in the wild a betty Netch has a harem of five bull Netches, but domesticated Netch are kept at a one-to-one ratio of betty to bull Netches to lessen their aggression and for faster breeding.

Uses Netches are commonly kept by netchimen for their powdery, velvety leather, from which the venom of a Netch can still be felt as it causes a tingling sensation if touched. Netch leather is used for armour, which is said to make the wearer feel exhilarated, despite the tingling sensation - or perhaps because of it. Netch leather armour is more flexible than many other candidates, but it requires oiling and treating it with dreugh wax weekly to stay in prime condition.

Netchimen do not collect Netch meat, as it is poisonous, and therefore not fit for consumption. However, the carcasses of Netches secrete jelly used as an alchemical ingredient for containing toxin that paralyses the nervous system.

Traveler's advice: I was overtaken by want to pet one of the Netches as I came upon a herd. The netchiman told me to go for it, but forgot to mention the need for gloves. My entire palm went numb for hours, and then started tingling like never before. Proper gear is necessary for handling the Netches, if one feels the need to.