#sorry to dagoth post on main but

[cleopatraxi]

[trickstarbrave]

hi im on my bullshit making up random aus again

this is steren! not his main story either. i might write up his main story in bits and pieces at some point. but this is an au bc i wanna see him happy with his parents.

so he's getting dropped in @mulberrycafe's vivi's world. sorry kid, azura will grant your wish but not how you're thinking

obligatory picture of steren and some background info from this post. and bonus baby picture.

this is just part 1. part 2 will be the gang dealing with an unconscious dunmer who fsr has a moon and star ring of his own and nerevar's sword. which will be uh. concerning.

(also i didnt proofread this :'D)

--

Falling to his knees, Steren coughed up a bit of blood, willing the last of his magicka into a healing spell to keep his organs stable. 

It hadn’t been an easy battle, both physically or emotionally. 

Dagoth Ur, after all, had at one point been his father. 

Fate was cruel like that. His first lifetime he spent his whole, although very short, life chasing after his father and his legacy. He felt alienated in House Indoril, and when rumors stirred he might be of an unsavory bloodline no one dared name, things became more complicated for him. When he was a young adult--when he should be just spreading his wings and leaving to the world--he had found documents that were to be burned from the sinful Sixth House. 

Documents that clearly defined that he was born from Voryn Dagoth. Born from a supposed fling he refused to name and died shortly after childbirth that the Lord of House Dagoth refused to let rot and instead welcomed as a legitimate son with open arms. It seemed to go along with his memories too--hazy, faint things from when he was such a young child. Memories of a golden skinned mer with long black hair that would hold him close, laughing with mirth and pride, calling him ‘little star’. 

Steren then went to Vivec for answers. They were all on the first council when the war broke out. It was impossible the living god didn’t know his father was Voryn Dagoth. He demanded answers--why was his father killed? Who was his mother? Was she really dead? Did she miss him? Did he have any other relatives--aunts and uncles in other houses who knew who he was? Why had his whole house been destroyed and they shoved him into Indoril in secret? 

But Vivec had refused to answer. 

When Steren was young, the warrior-poet was oddly close to him. He still lived in Mournhold, having not yet built his temple in the Ascadian Isles, and welcomed Steren almost like a mentor. Encouraged his magic and swordsmanship, and assured him there was a place for him in the world. But when Steren knew the truth, the god’s eyes had gotten cold and hard.

“What good would come if I told you everything?” Was Vivec’s answer. “House Dagoth fell because they were traitors. Voryn Dagoth had betrayed our people and fought against us in the war that destroyed parts of Vvardenfell. Even Red Mountain spewed fire in anger.” His words only fanned the flames of resentment more and more for the young dunmer in front of him. “If there were relatives who could take you, I would have gladly let them. And no matter how much I tell you of your birth, of that accursed house, it will not undo that tragedy. It will not bring your parents back.” 

It was the truth, in a way. A painful truth Steren had refused to accept. He grew up isolated and lonely, wanting nothing more than to belong. Wanting nothing more than to know his history. Something to call his own. A relic from his parents. A memory to cling to. Proof that, at some point, in some way, he was loved like he always craved. 

And Steren chased answers until he died tragically, killed in a landslide as he tried and failed to get into an old House Dagoth outpost to look for hints of the stronghold’s location. He had barely gotten married and had a son himself, who no doubt had to grow up without him. 

And in Steren’s second life that tragedy never really ended. 

He was orphaned in Cyrodiil, not even knowing who his parents were, kicked out once he was the age of majority for a mer. And with little life skills, he had resorted to taking whatever work he could. He hadn’t intended to get mixed up in anything illegal--that would be stupid. But the imperial guards didn’t much care about his ignorance when they rounded up everyone involved in the smuggling operation. Steren pled his innocence: he thought it was just unloading cargo off a ship. How was he supposed to know it was smuggled goods? But the law didn’t care much about it at the time. He was to serve his sentence of five years since he had no money to pay a fine. 

Only to, after one year, be shipped off to Morrowind, unknowing what events would unfold. 

Another cough, and a bit more blood spilled onto the volcanic rock. He felt so warm here. The lava below was making him sweat like when he had corpus fever, but he didn’t have the strength to stand up and leave. 

“Steren,” Nerevar’s voice spoke to him, kneeling beside him and trying in vain to wipe his brow. It wasn’t entirely unappreciated; while Nerevar couldn’t really touch him, the spectral presence gave a faint, cool sensation on his sweaty skin. “It’ll be alright--” Nerevar was always quick to reassure and help him. “Do you have a potion or two?”

At the very least, in this lifetime he found the answers he sought--his other parent had been none other that Nerevar. Steren had been born of a fling--a quiet, drunken affair neither of the two had expected anything else from. Nerevar had told him as such, but that they both loved Steren very dearly regardless. That Nerevar had loved Voryn, even if he couldn’t say so openly. The hortator had run off after discovering the pregnancy, ignorant to what the dwemer were getting up to, to have Steren in secret under the excuse of going on a pilgrimage to Azura, and handed Steren off to Voryn to raise. 

And after his death Nerevar couldn’t bear leaving his child alone. Reincarnation and prophecy be damned; his son was alone in the world. Nerevar had wanted Voryn to raise him so he was always looked after and loved by at least one of his fathers, and now with Voryn dead Nerevar would take up that role. Yet, he was powerless to speak to Steren--to answer his questions and protect him like he always wanted. And with that regret he continued to watch over Steren’s child. Then Steren’s child’s child. All the way until Steren was reborn to a dying mother fleeing persecution in the Illiac Bay. 

Steren had a feeling his dad was going to have to see him die all over again, once again helpless to stop it. The Moon-and-Star ring let him speak with and see Nerevar, but there was only so much a ghost could do.

“I used the last of them…” Steren admitted. He had just enough to barely survive the fight, gulping them down while he dodged attack after attack. 

“Recall amulet?” Nerevar replied, and Steren tried to get the energy to dig through his pack. If he could pull out an amulet or scroll he could use that to get into town--limp his way to a healer or general goods seller for a few potions to stabilize himself.

But then there was a spectral blue light that didn’t match the golden glow of Nerevar, and a woman’s voice spoke to him. 

“Well done.”  She was smiling affectionately, but Steren kind of wanted to curse her out. “With this, Morrowind has been saved. And Nerevar’s soul might rest.”

“Azura--” Nerevar scowled in response. 

“It has been over three millennia, hortator.” Azura’s smooth reply came. “Are you not tired of this tragedy?”

“My son still needs me--”

“Your power wanes even now, and you know this.”  Azura’s reply came. “A soul should not be as active as yours is, haunting the living. You do not rest in the home of your ancestors. You do not rest even in Moonshadow.” Steren’s eyes widened. “Through force of will you have continued on, but I know internally you weep for the sharmat’s death.” Nerevar looked away now, still scowling. “Your soul cannot survive much longer without a rest. You will cease to be.” 

Steren didn’t want to say goodbye either. Tears were running down his face at the news, but he nodded his head. 

“Go.” Steren forced a smile. 

“Steren--”

“I don’t want to be responsible for the death of both of my fathers.” He had admitted. “If you leave now, it won’t be goodbye forever, right?” 

The look Nerevar gave him was indescribably painful. 

“I’ll see you again one day, right?” Nerevar wrapped his arms around him, trying in vain to hold him tight. “And I’ll give you a real hug then, Dad.” He wanted to hold Nerevar back in return, but he had long since learned he couldn’t. Only in his dreams could he. But the cool embrace was oddly soothing. 

“Of course.” Nerevar shook with sobs himself. “I’ll be waiting for you, little star. With open arms.” 

With that, the golden light faded, as Nerevar pressed his hand to his cheek, smiling at him the best he could through his own ghostly tears. 

And then it was just Steren and Azura in the chamber now. 

“You have done well, righting the wrongs of the past.” Azura smiled again. “You are truly a precious child to undertake this monumental task. And to you I am eternally grateful.” She should be, honestly. Nerevar couldn’t be reborn to do it, so here he was answering for the sins of his fathers, correcting their wrongs and setting everything back on course. He got the divine disease, went through hell and back, and had to kill one of his fathers with his own hands and blasphemous tools. 

“I can grant you whatever wish you desire.” Azura’s presence was even warmer as she came close, though given the heat of the heart chamber he wished it wasn’t; he missed the cool, spectral touch of his father already. Yet, despite the pain clouding his senses, he tried to think. A daedric prince offering a favor was a big deal. Many would wish for pleasures beyond their wildest dreams, or fame and future. His whole family line had been cursed with rotten luck, and he could finally make something of himself…

Yet, none of that had any appeal. To be honest, before being shipped off to Morrowind he had no idea what to do with his life. Given he hadn’t even reached his 100th year and was still barely an adult by dunmer standards, he thought he would have some time to figure it out. And now that he saw his past life and finally learned all he wanted to and more…

Well. He didn’t know what he wanted from life. How was he supposed to go on alone, even with wealth and fame? All he would be thinking about is, in the afterlife his fathers might be waiting for him. 

“...I just want my parents back.” Steren admitted after a few moments of silence.

“You know I cannot bring back the dead.” Azura frowned. 

“I know.” Steren replied. “Instead I’d rather… Just be with them.” It was unspoken what he was asking for, but he thought he implied it well enough:

He was asking for Azura to finally let him rest too. To put him out of his misery. He had done his part, and the kindest thing she could do for him is to finally let him rest peacefully in the presence of his parents. He already made peace with his death on the long trek up Red Mountain, though he never told Nerevar that fact. 

After a moment of silence, Azura closed her eyes. “I see.” She approached even closer. “I can reunite you with them then, if that is what you wish.”

“It is.” Steren was certain. Even if she didn’t take his life here, he didn’t expect to live much longer with the injuries he sustained anyways. 

“Are you truly prepared to leave this all behind?” She asked again. “There will be no going back.”

“Positive…” Nerevar would lecture him, cursing him to the deadlands and back, but Steren was so very, very tired. He would take the lecture, comfortably in his father’s arms once again, before finally having a nice, long rest. 

“Then that shall be my gift to you.” 

White was the next thing he could see. All encompassing, painful white, as he quickly went from feeling far too hot to feeling frigid. 

And then he was falling. And falling fast. Seren scrambled, activating his slowfall ring, his heart accelerating and lungs still burning. Still, the enchantment could only cushion his fall and try as he might to flail around in the air, to get to dry land he could see, he ended up falling into the water. 

“Fuck!” Steren swore. The cold felt like knives digging into his skin, and before he knew it he felt like he was gasping for air, suffocating despite his head being above water, as he continued to flail towards the beach. He climbed himself out of the frigid waves eventually, shivering, now soaking wet. 

Azura had promised him he’d get to see his parents, but he never expected Moonshadow or the ancestral realm to be… Cold and snowy. There wasn’t a whole lot of snow in Mournhold after all. Yet here he was, now soaking wet and freezing, snow on the hills he could see. 

If he was dead, did it matter if he was cold? That was a question he had. It sure felt like a pressing issue though, so he continued to swear and curse, trying to think. How should he keep warm? He wasn’t used to the cold growing up somewhere subtropical and then being shipped to Vvardenfell where the volcano kept the climate oddly warm compared to the neighboring country of Skyrim. 

So he pressed on. Maybe Nerevar wanted to retreat to a colder area of Moonshadow. All Steren needed to do was find a place to warm up and find him. 

That was easier said than done though. 

He had underestimated the problems with wet clothing. His robe froze, forcing him to discard it, along with a chunk of his armor still stuck to it. He pulled out a cloak, trying to keep warm, but the wind seemed to seep through the fabric to the wet silk under it and still left him shivering. He wandered and wandered, his hands going numb and his head aching like he had a terrible migraine. 

And then he started feeling oddly feverish, like he did back in the heart chamber. His clothes felt like they were wet from sweat, trapping the heat against him until it was burning. He would have stripped down more, except he was afraid if he did he would stop moving. He had to keep moving forward. One step after the other. His dad was here, and he didn’t want to stop.

Faintly, he heard people talking. His ears perked up as he blinked. His vision seemed blurry and blown out, stinging from the harsh glare of sunlight on pure white. Yet, over a small hill, he could make out two familiar faces:

A golden skinned chimer in House Indoril armor, white hair, and blue eyes. A dunmer with long, black hair and red eyes, a third eye on his forehead. He knew their voices too--he couldn’t possibly be mistaken. There were other people there but Steren didn’t pay them much mind; his fathers being here, together, was much more important.

“Dad!” Steren called out, his voice hoarse, before coughing again. Sucking in the air to yell felt like needles were pricking his already injured lungs inside and out, but he was so close--! Just a bit further. He willed his numb legs to push him forward through the heavy snow. 

Nerevar gave him a confused look, before Steren wrapped his arms around him. 

“Woah--” Nerevar stumbled slightly as Steren threw all of his weight onto Nerevar. “Oh gods, he’s freezing!” 

“His hair is frozen--” Voryn said, confused and equally concerned for the strange dunmer who seemed delirious from the cold. Yet, Steren could barely even understand the words coming out of their mouths. All he could do was cling to Nerevar, relishing in the fact his dad felt solid and warm under his touch rather than ephemeral and cold. 

“Here,” Nerevar unclasped his cloak, wrapping it around his shoulders. “C’mere, let’s get you someplace to warm up, alright?”

[valthu-um]

TES Aesthetic Playlists (pt. II)

As promised, I’m delivering on more content from my last post, admittedly later than I planned. The Elder Scrolls Mixtape Project continues with purpose as I introduce some new additions that have been made in the past year(s).

Games / DLC

Morrowind

Factions

I’ll admit that the Blades playlist has actually been up since my original post, but at the time, it wasn’t finished, so it is getting shuffled in with the 2nd Era inspired factions.

Aldmeri Dominion (Skyrim)

Psijic Order

The Blades (Oblivion)

Clockwork Apostles

Dragonguard

House Ravenwatch

Dark Brotherhood (ESO)

Characters (mostly Morrowind edition)

Could possibly be receiving more updates as we go along, since I’m running a little behind on ESO characters to include. 

Sotha Sil

Almalexia

Vivec

Mannimarco

Voryn Dagoth / Dagoth Ur

Darien Gautier

Naryu Virian

Fennorian

Places

And I may have gotten a little carried away with the Clockwork City playlist. Not for lack of trying to hold back buuut I have a soft spot for Sotha Sil, so it really couldn’t be helped. Sorry. I don’t make the rules. You might notice that Skyrim is notably absent from this list, because I’m not certain I need to rehash all those places over again, especially since I have a playlist for Greymoor already. 

Valenwood

Elsweyr

Black Marsh

Alik’r Desert

Rivenspire

Stormhaven

Glenumbra

Summerset Isles

Vvardenfell

Clockwork City

Wrothgar

Hew’s Bane

Craglorn

Blackwood

Daedric Princes / Planes of Oblivion

There is a playlist for the Daedric Princes under my original post in the Factions category, which was very general. But, I felt that it didn’t do justice to describe the planes of Oblivion themselves, and that I needed a more tailored experience if I planned on traipsing outside Mundus, no matter the game.

Deadlands (Mehrunes Dagon)

Myriad Realms of Revelry (Sanguine)

Fields of Regret (Clavicus Vile)

Shivering Isles (Sheogorath)

Hunting Ground (Hircine)

Evergloam (Nocturnal)

Spiral Skeim (Mephala)

Apocrypha (Hermaeus Mora)

Aesthetic/Ruins

Ancient Nordic Ruins

Falmer Ruins

Dwemer Ruins

Ayleid Ruins

Lorelines

Sometimes a zone playlist just doesn’t do the current circumstances justice. 

Daedric Triad (Morrowind - Clockwork City - Summerset)

The Dark Heart of Skyrim

To Coldharbour and Back Again (Main Quest)

Alliance War (Cyrodiil)

Classes

The only of these that is unfinished/still receiving additions and edits is the Dragonknight playlist, because it’s the last class I got around to playing as, so I’m still forming an impression.

Necromancer

Dragonknight

Templar

Nightblade

Warden

Sorcerer

Pt. I here. ESO Trials + Dungeons here. I also do other aesthetic/character-based playlists for other series, although not as extensive as TES. You can find a list on my main blog.

[aladaylessecondblog]

The Divine Plan (Chapter 2)

To newcomers: Skyrim Special Edition quest where you get the mask of Dagoth Ur, Dragonborn used to be a Sleeper, and she absorbed Alduin's soul. Akatosh abandons her to Dagoth Ur's influence, saying it is part of his divine plan, and since she absorbed Alduin's soul she will take on his role.

AU of my main Skyrim idea because I am queen of OC recyclers

Summary of this chapter: Dragonborn's mother gets a letter from her daughter that grows more disturbing with every paragraph.

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

The Last Letter

Mother,

I am sorry I did not listen to you, and now we shall all pay for it. I would beg for your help but I know now that none can ever reach me. I have not much time left. Every time I sit down to write to you he seems to hold me back.

I found a mask. A golden mask, the only one whom we have ever feared...it whispered in my head, but I thought that since I was the Dragonborn, I could withstand it. That it could not affect me. That I was safe.

On she read, a feeling of cold dread filling her stomach and then the rest of her being. The handwriting changed--it only made sense, Sadrith had never been able to write a letter in one sitting to begin with, and this change in handwriting happened often, but this time--as the page progressed, it grew more scrawly and yet hesitant, as if every word was painful to write but was being forced out anyway.

I dream again, as I did what felt like so long ago. Somewhere, the worshippers of the Tribunal still gave praise to Almalexia, and in disposing of them I learned of an artifact they were in fear of. An artifact I should never have pursued. A thing of evil I should never have laid my hands on.

Mother, please, I beg you, do not come to Raven Rock. I beg you again, for I have fallen...I was falling the instant I laid hands on that accursed gold, but...but somehow, I forgot about that moment, until I was too far gone. It would be so easy to fall, and yet I struggle on, but I know it is fruitless. Mother, forgive me. Forgive me. I was weak as a child and he was able to take me as if by the hand, and lead me into his will.

I felt the presence of Akatosh, when I begged for help, and he only said that this, that I, was part of his plan. Then he was silent, and not even his shrines will answer me now.

What kind of god abandons his followers? Makes them part of his plan in this manner? What reward is this to a believer who has done his will again and again?

"Are you well?"

A voice ripped her from the maelstrom forming inside her, and she looked up, her aged brow wrinkling even more in concern. Before her stood the Wise Woman who took the place of Nibani Maesa once she passed away.

"No. No, I...I am not well at all."

She looked down at the letter in her shaking hands, and read the rest.

Dagoth Ur tells me I have no reason to fear, that I will be his instrument that brings Akatosh low. 'Are you not dragonborn, greatest of all dragonslayers? What could be more grand a dragon to slay than the first of the false gods?'

A final break and change in handwriting. This time it was as if the letters had been carved into the page in ink.

forgive me for the choice i make for if it is between he who deserted me and he who promises vengeance then i must choose the latter

if this is a grave he leads me into it is not so hard to lay down in

the sixth house is risen and lord Dagoth is its glory

She was up in an instant, unsure of everything--what she could do, how far gone her poor daughter would be when she arrived, but there was no question of staying away. Her baby girl, the gift given when she thought herself beyond childbearing years, her treasure, needed her.

And no force in Mundus could stop her from coming.

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

I want to do a longer version of this but I do not need another WIP to ignore.

This is basically what I played on repeat as I was writing this when I posted it on AO3

[voryn-dagoth]

hi there! i'm elf, he/they, 25. first time trying out a side blog so bear with me here, but i wanted to get more involved/get back into elder scrolls since it's been a continuous love of my life. my main blog is @friesian and i post the most there.

i like morrowind in general, but i really like the tribunal, dagoth ur, and dunmeri the most. i'm generally a fan of all elves though in any respect.

my elder scrolls OCs are sort of just guys in my head but the one i have the most of is my dunmer flysher. mister bad luck himself. i don't really post my art anymore because of data scraping, sorry! you can find flysher's toyhouse here. thanks for popping by!

[marcurios-bench]

Welcome!

This is my side blog for Elder Scrolls content.

Main blog is @geesegonewild (It's messier than a skeever den. Sorry.)

I'm currently taking a break from TES games to replay Dragon Age (you know how it is).

I tend to reblog a lot of fan art, but anything TES related might end up here. Tags are below the cut for navigation (or your block list).

Tag Navigation

General

Original Posts - My posts from this blog

Art tag

Games:

Skyrim

Morrowind

The Elder Scrolls Online

Characters:

Aela the Huntress

Almalexia

Cicero

Dagoth Ur

Lyris Titanborn

Marcurio

Sotha Sil

Teldryn Sero

Vivec

Many others have their own tag, even if not listed

Modded Characters:

Auri

Gore

Taliesin

General cvf tag

Misc:

Scenery - Screenshots, mostly of landscapes

Skyrim Mods

My first morrowind playthrough

[cassandraooc]

Quick sketch of my Changing Moon lunar Jaxith. He was the first exalted character I made and I’ve been wanting to draw him again, and still plan to have a more finished piece (and maybe some of the story from the campaign, which lasted over a decade overall.) But this one I did in preparation for an exalted secret santa, because it’s fun! :3

Anyway, he physically switches genders fairly frequently, between male, female and agender mostly. He rarely changes pronouns but also doesn’t have much preference for what pronouns are used for him.

For whomever is drawing him for the secret santa, feel free to draw Jaxith whatever gender you want. :3 Outfit design is also pretty unimportant so feel free to do whatever is easiest/most fun for you. :3 (I’m also pretty inconsistant about his Moonsilver Tattoos and was pretty lazy about them here.)

I am completely unsure of what else might be handy for this without just... spewing a bunch of information?

Which I might add later, but I gotta get drawing on some other projects too. :o So, if you need more info, maybe just ask @shiftingpath to ask me and I’ll edit the post. :3

Edit: #3 second character and expansion on Jaxith posted below. :3

The game Jaxith was from had gone on for several years before I entered, and continued several years after and through two editions. (First and Second) It was a campaign that borrowed from a lot of other games and settings and changed dramatically over the course in a way only possible when you have a large cast of exalted PCs. At some point I want to go into detail about the campaign itself.

Jaxith himself was a complete pacifist, never killing anyone, approaching every problem and potential enemy with empathy, and often used storytelling, song and metaphor to convert others to his points of view. (He could fight, too, but as a master of Crane Style and Dreaming Pearl Courtesan style, his focus again was on subduing not killing)

He’s passionate, idealistic and determined. His compassion burned him before, and he was betrayed and even tortured throughout the campaign in some pretty brutal ways, but luckily lunars are above all else, amazing survivors, and he ended up making friends of a lot of his would-be enemies. :3

Physically, he’s got silvery hair with a purple section of his bangs because... I liked the colors, honestly? Look this was a long time ago. ;P He’s also got golden catlike eyes, and pearlescent scaled tail and wings. (The wings are partially feathered at the upper parts) In the back, his hair is usually kept in silver beading, but he’ll loosen it sometimes too.

His usual outfits very between dancing outfits and a set of light Moonsilver armor.

Jaxith’s totem animal is basically a Western Dragon. (long story, but worked within the setting of that particular campaign. :P) Because of that and his personality, the other players nicknamed him “Jesus Dragon”.

After second edition came out, our Storyteller took a break from the main campaign to run an abyssal game in the same world, though taking place on what was basically a copy of Morrowind. (I won’t get too into it but he turned Dagoth into a fascinating, multifaceted character that was our Death Lord and made me want to play the game and I was so dissapointed by the “real” Dagoth when I finally played it. But I digress)

The character I played in that second game was Lotus.

(I should not costume design is my weakest thing, and I haven’t drawn him for literally years. It’s really late and I’m doing this right before bed so I decided against spending a lot of time on outfit design. Sorry! >.< He usually wears really fancy, slightly western styled clothing, or dark armor. Clothes not super important.)

For the campaign, we were clearly going to be the villains, and there was a lot of interesting characters and backstories I’m not going to get into here but will probably write about later in a different post.

I’m drawn to high compassion characters, which manifested in a very different way in Lotus than Jaxith. After having to deal with a lot of awful shit (again, nother post) as well as some more personal fuckery on behalf of the Neverborn themselves. As a result, he saw the death he brought to those around as a gift, the destruction of Creation the only way to end suffering. He was a loyal person who had suffered repeated abuse and betrayal, and overall completely hopeless.

The abyssal campaign went on for a couple years where the party basically started a new hyper destructive zombie plague and spread it across Creation and almost brought down the world... at wihch point our storyteller ended it and we went back to playing the good guys again and struggling to undue the vast destruction we had caused, and fight our incredibly pwoerful other characters. (It worked out really well, not sure I’m making that clear.)

Anyway, Jaxith had the background that gave him memories of his last exaltation, whereas Lotus had unbidden oracle and would be randomly haunted by visions of the future. My storyteller decided to make Lotus Jaxith’s Lunar Mate, and through a lot of shenanigans, Jaxith was able to redeem Lotus. (Again, a story I’ll tell another post at some point but it’s like 4am and I’m so tired right now)

Lotus can be drawn either as a Midnight Caste Abyssal as he was at the beginning of his campaign, or a Zenith Caste Solar as he became when eventually redeemed.

 He has a sapient Scythe of Moonsilver and Soulsteel (which also gets transformed into an orichalcum and moonsilver scythe when he becomes a solar through shenanigons. ) that can transform into any string instrument (His preferance being a violin.)

He also has a ghost tiger familiar that stays with him both before and after his redemption.

And thirdly is a strange teddy bear wearing an outfit that’s a mockery of his own, including holding its own tiny Scythe. This is a “gift” given to his entire abyssal circle, and the voices of the Neverborn whispers through it, and can even animate it. This one wouldn’t be there post his redemption.