#sovengarde

[elderscrollsconceptart]

Whalebone bridge

Concept art for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Art by Adam Adamowicz

[aaphra]

Skyrim Scenery 19/∞

[nicstylus]

Between the two I changed the hood a little bit but he's really just a dork trying to be a cool assassin

[percentstardust]

fenris watching the dragonborn ( mine and other dragonborns ) shout goats off of that tall ass mountain he followed them up to find some dudes called greybeards: you're doing amazing sweetie.

[darkzelda]

k how has tumblr not gotten back to me about giving me my blog back yet. I should be able to take a breath and they all scurry to their little desks and say Yes m'lord right away, right away milord

[skyrim-forever]

TES Summer Fest Day 1: Breath

A/N: Omg she managed to do something??? :P Decided I'm gonna make these prompts low stakes for myself and use them to write snippets of my oc Theodora. Tagging: @tes-summer-fest

Warnings: Brief mention of suicidal ideation and alcoholism, one line each but tagging just in case <3

The waters of Lake Ilinalta were cool against her skin as she dove below the surface. Theodora’s body had been aching, the bruises and cuts still fresh from the fight with Alduin. Though the battle had been a few weeks ago, her body had much to go in the way of healing. The Greybeards had fixed her up well enough that she could make her way to Lakeview Manor. Where she had been hiding out since, the bottle being her constant companion.

The world did not know yet of Alduin’s defeat, nor did they know she was alive. Well, one did know she was alive. Giving the courier strict instructions to not let the letter get into anyone else’s hands, she sent word to Ondolemar. A simple message “I am okay, it is done. Will see you when I can.”. She didn’t want him to worry, but not even he could comfort her now. 

Coming up for another breath, Theodora floated on her back. The water had proven to be soothing for her aches, the fresh water making her feel somewhat well again. She could have visited Danica at the Temple in Whiterun, that probably would have sped up healing; but then she would have had to talk to people. Paraded around as the Hero, titles and duties throw at her, any chance of a normal life would turn to dust. It had gotten worse as her fame became more known, every Jarl wanted her in their court, every warrior wanted her advice, and when she reentered the world it would be unbearable. With the Civil War ended by her hand and the threat of Alduin quelled, it was only a matter of time before Tullius’s eyes turned towards the Dominion. Theodora didn’t have another war in her, the echoes of the Great War in Anvil and being pivotal in the Skyrim Civil War had taken their toll. And even if she could, how could she fight the one she loved? She had found solace in small moments with friends, traveling with Serana, swapping stories with Camilla, sparing with Irelith. They made her feel normal, she had connections to this world again. Secure connections in the way that Ondolemar couldn’t be, due to their opposing sides. 

Thoughts raced through her mind, too quick to be fully formed, mere fragments of ideas. The Empire, love, war, pain. All leading up to an idea that had plagued her since Sovengarde I wish I had died there. But of course she did not, she had been made for this, and by Akatosh’s will, she was not done on this mortal plane yet. Holding in her breath, Theodora submerges herself again, hoping when she arises she’ll feel whole.

[rabbittwinrithings]

Felt quirky, redesigned Alduin.

Wanted to make him more worm-like. Based off the Bobbit Worm. I really wanted to give Alduin a more cosmic horror and Lovecraftian vibe. He hides in the night sky and bursts from the stars to Nirn below. His presence can be discovered by a blast of wind as cold as death itself; this wind being his tendrils sensing the mortals he is about to prey upon.  

His body is very long, and from beyond the night sky it stretches and folds all throughout Sovengarde, making an obstacle for the dead to traverse over to make it to those grand halls. 

(After cutoff is rough draft images)

[feykrorovaan]

I love the absolute CHAOS that ensued bringing my little follower family with me to Sovengarde and summoning Miraak's dragons. Alduin flew himself into the sun and I wasn't able to destroy him, so I'll have to go back to a previous save, but man it was worth it.

[dynamite124]

I recently saw a fic where the dragonborn thinks that they're in Sovengarde for mere hours to defeat Alduin, but they've actually been gone for years and are assumed dead. I've been wondering how Taliesin would spend those years and (bonus) how he'd react to his week-old apple-cabbage stew finding him after all that time.

P.s. hope you and Pat have a nice day and are doing well!!

If one talks to Taliesin about what his plans are for after all is said and done in Skyrim, he'll answer by saying he wants to travel. There are parts of Tamriel that he wants to see and explore.

The thought of loosing the Dragonborn would be hard for him. Someone he trusts and feels safe with is gone. There's nothing left keeping him anchored to Skyrim. So he'll leave it all behind, finding a new life and journey on the road alone. Maybe with a friend at his side, he won't turn anyone away who wants to travel with him and grieve in peace.

But he would be absolutely beside himself finding out his Week-old-bowl of Apple-Cabbage Stew was alive. In a good way, of course.

[themegachessatron]

A Review of my time in Skyrim's Prisons (Featuring some followers): The Bloodworks

This is chapter seven of my ongoing series to explore and review the prison facilities of each of Skyrim's major cities. In this part we find ourselves in Windhelm, centre point of the Stormcloak Rebellion, looking at a prison with an... unclear naming convention. The prison itself is located inside the Palace of the Kings, in the guard barracks loading zone, so what do I call it? Well, I've decided to refer to the facility in this review by the name affectionately given to it by the people of Windhelm, The Bloodworks. This name interestingly derives from when it acted as a place to contain pit fighters while the Windhelm Arena was in use, but I prefer to think of it as a potential reference to the harshness and brutality of the prison in question, showing clearly that this prison has a very violent and disciplined policy. Does it live up to these ideals? Let's see...

I arrive in the cell provided for my group and immediately the problem is obvious. That's it. That is ALL the floorspace there is. Prisoners are afforded a small pile of hay to sleep on and nothing else. This is by far the most brutal and unforgiving treatment in any prison reviewed so far and shows the Windhelm guard are more than prepared to back up their aggressive attitude to criminals with action, especially when they decide to throw four people into the same tiny cell. Our group had been arrested this time as a result of an altercation in the city streets over the very apparent racial prejudice in the city wherein Sofia in all the madness may or may not have taken the life of one of the market stall runners. In order to both keep an eye on us all easier and further punish us for our crimes the guards had decided to throw most of us into the same cell (Teldryn and Jordan lucked out and got a separate cell nearby). This was not only deeply uncomfortable for everyone involved but also, in Inigo's case, very distressing. After a short while Inigo's tolerance had run out and in a panicked state he forced the door open with his bare hands! Naturally the guards were not best pleased with this.

So next thing I know we're in a firefight. My group had felt the red mist descend and were quite evidently sick of Windhelm's shit, which truth be told I can't blame them that much. A massive melee broke out with spells, arrows and swords flying in every which direction, blood coating the floors in the closest thing to a carpet the prison area will likely ever see. I had wanted to keep this review tasteful but clearly I was in the minority, so senseless violence won the day (hooray) and much commotion was felt during my tour of the facility (not hooray).

Most of the initial combat took place in the holding area. A cold, dirty, cruel place where torture equipment was laid out liberally across the room and indications of past struggles and sufferings were commonplace. Clearly the Stormcloaks preferred getting their justice the hard way, and they were more than well equipped to do so. Everything in this room, from the cell's tiny empty space to the vicious devices being used here perfectly complement the brutal, no-nonsense nature of this facility. It felt more like a vampire den than a city jail, for both better and worse.

While I was examining the fascinating torture devices, my friends had forced the guards into a chokehold at the foot of the stairs leading up to the barracks and ,quite simply, they filled up the booking list for Sovengarde completely in a matter of seconds. Now I understand that my clique is very well-versed in the potent cocktail of combat and "fucking shit up" but even then these guards were very quickly defeated and massacred. Though I suppose it's on brand for the Windhelm guards to talk big but be sent off to Shor's penthouse faster than a very ambitious Alduin who wants to get the whole world-eating thing done and over with quickly. If nothing else, I suppose bloodied walls and floors is expected in this prison, just not from the guards.

An unexpected upside to the aforementioned slaughter is that it allowed me to examine the guard barracks fully without any interruptions, seeing as the entirety of the barracks' occupants were currently twitching downstairs in pools of their collective blood. The barracks in question were rather nice. Comfortable décor, plenty of bedding, effective and functional furniture, the works. It stands in stark contrast to the bloody (not intentionally) cesspit downstairs and shows that these guards were being well cared for by their superiors but unfortunately not well trained as the large pile of bodies just downstairs is proof of.

Also included in these barracks, tucked away in the corner right of the exit down to the cesspit are the evidence and prisoner belongings chests. This is a strong storage location. Any prospective convicts would have to go through the cesspit in its entirety and enter the barracks where the guards are stationed (even if that is a moot point now) to access the chests and retrieve their beloved scroll of conjure storm atronach or whatever it is they use to fight off racists in this part of the country.

The corridor out of the guards barracks was woefully uneventful (I can't for the life of me imagine why), with it leading to a door into the Palace of the Kings proper, which ended up being easier to escape from than I'd anticipated. The good thing about having a lot of dead Windhelm guards nearby is that there was plenty of disguises to go around. We were almost caught again when Inigo's tail accidentally came loose near the front door, but we managed to convince the real guards that it was just a very long, thin bear pelt before leaving.

In conclusion, The Bloodworks were brilliant for what they wanted to achieve, which unfortunately for their review score wasn't a decent prison. The Bloodworks might just be the best torture dungeon I've ever seen, but it is highly insufficient as a city prison and the guards were... well, you saw what happened to them.

Final score: One Scroll of Conjure Storm Atronach out of Ten Scrolls of Conjure Storm Atronach

Thank you for reading this review. Next time we look north to see if we can brave the cold of The Chill in Winterhold.

[elderscrollsconceptart]

Alduin

Concept art for The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Art by Adam Adamowicz

[custom-whats]

Isn’t it crazy how there’s probably not gonna be an afterlife where ldb can be with the people they loved in life. Most people seem to think that as a start, Akatosh is calling dibs on ldb when they die, but even beyond that the afterlife opportunities for ldb are above and beyond the kinds of afterlives the ldb team are probably gonna get (do you see Lucien entering sovengarde??? Or serving nocturnal????) so. That’s weird. Ur ldb is kinda doomed to accept that the only time they have with their friends is the time they’ve been given on earth

[99corentine]

"I know Chry thought about letting Miraak’s bite scar over before deciding against it. If he were to be bitten somewhere less visible, would he let it scar over then?"

Sorry, I should have phrased this better. I just realized that I accidentally made the pronouns confusing when I wrote the initial question.

If Miraak bit Chry in a less visible location. Would Chry let it scar over like he briefly thought about doing in Sovengard? Or would he decide against it like he did then?

Although actually on that note, I know you mentioned before that Miraak's mind is sort of an enigma, so this may not have an answer. But what was going through his head when he let Chry bite him? Did his mind do approximately the same thing that Chry's does when bitten, or something else?

If Miraak bit Chry in a less visible location. Would Chry let it scar over like he briefly thought about doing in Sovengard?

Despite flashes of temptation, again I don't think Chrysanthe would permanently scar anyone or let himself be permanently scarred unless there was a sufficient reason to do it. Scars are itchy and uncomfortable! Also there's probably an amount of healer's pride in never letting yourself be permanently marked. But if one of them went on a mega jealousy drive, he might reconsider.

But what was going through his head when he let Chry bite him?

Honestly? I think he was just trying his best to soothe Chrysanthe's jealousy. You have to remember that Miraak is very, very familiar with dragon jealousy as a) something he has to contend with himself in a big way (because he's had 4,000 years with pretty much himself for company, and in that time he's lost a lot of the mortal temperance that Chry has) and b) half of his job as a dragon priest was managing tetchy winged lizards who were prone to fits of jealous temper. He's acutely aware of when a nearby dragon is unhappy, and he felt that from Chry all day they were in Blackreach because of Lucien's enthusiastic chatter. Chry has never had to manage dragon jealousy before, but Miraak has had to manage the heck out of it.

As for what he felt during the biting... I headcanon Miraak as pretty domineering, so his own inner dragon was probably mad as hell that he was just letting it happen and not fighting back. He was really wrestling with the urge to fight back / bite back and the knowledge that he needed to let it happen to calm Chrysanthe down, because again he's aware that the only way to soothe a dragon is a massive show of submission, or a brawl that ends with someone being forced to submit.

I don't think he himself finds biting or scarring to be personally hot. The way Chry gets when he's in full dragon mode however, that IS hot, definitely. Even his inner dragon agrees on that one lol.

[moicaire]

Okay but when aeilif has the sit-down with Kodlak about doing stuff for Aela she surely experiences EMOTIONS. Imagine finding out that on your current path you’re no longer headed to sovengarde when that is in fact where the ones you hold dearest are. She’s crying and bawling in front of that Apple pie

[shivering-isles-cryptid]

A Meeting of Godkillers

The room was silent, except for Doval’s fingers tapping on n the wooden table. To her left sat a man in silver armor, his yellow eyes and white hair glowing in the candle light. To her right, a woman wearing an extravagant dress and wielding a spear, the patches of grey skin dotted around her were the only indications of her previous race.

The man moved, the dice in his hand clattering on the wooden surface. “10.” He said, smirking at the two women. The Nerevarine hummed, grabbing the dice from their spot on the table. She shook them a bit before releasing. “12. I win.” Doval laughed lightly, laying back in her chair while watching Sheogoraths shocked expression.

“What say you, Shezzar?” Sheo looked at Doval, and eyebrow raised. “This is nothing but a game of luck, Sheo, and it seems our dear Demigod beat us both.” She laughed, fiddling with the red amulet around her neck. “Such is fate.” Moon-and-Star smiled as she picked up her winnings. “Now, what shall I do with this?” She tapped the end of her new staff against the ground a bit before throwing it to the side. It landed on her pile of artifacts and she picked the dice up again.

“Are you prepared for a new round?” She set the Mask of Almalexia down on the table and smirked at Sheo, who smiled his cat grin and placed down a book. “Bring it, you in Shezzar?” He turned to Doval, who chuckled and placed one of the Dragon Priest masks in the pile. “Show me what you got.”

3 hours later

Doval bit on her knuckle to keep from laughing as Sheo stared in shock at the table. She had just rolled an 11, winning not only all 3 Mask of the Tribunal, but also the Sword of Jyggalag and the Folium Discognitum. “What is happening?” Sheo said, gripping his hair. Moon-and-Star was laughing, banging her fist on the table. “Sorry Sheo. Seems the Isles is out of luck.” Doval laughed, adding the items to her pile. Sheo’s pile was growing exceptionally smaller with every game, while Doval and Moon-and-Star’s were both the size of the table.

“I don’t think this is fair. You can see the future, and your the daughter of the god of time.” Sheo huffed, crossing his arms. “True, but your the only actual god here Sheo. You should have an advantage over us.” Moon-and-Star pointed out, hand brushing over a weapon she won from Sheo that kept switching between a sword and an axe. “Yeah yeah.” He huffed again. “Tell you what Sheo, since I physically can’t bring any Daedric artifacts back with me to Sovengarde, you can have them back.” Doval said, separating I’ll of Sheo’s items from the rest of her pile and placing them on the table. “That feels like cheating…” he said, taking them anyway. “It is. Now I have to get going. Unlike you two, I’m in charge of a country, not a pocket realm.” Moon-and-Star said, standing from the table and disappearing in a flash of blue flames.

“I have to go too. You wouldn’t believe how much the Heroes and the Ziivahlok’s fight with each other.” Doval stood, waving at what was left of her pile, sending it to Sovengarde. “See you next time Sheogorath, I wish you better luck.” Doval said, a smirk on her lips as she disappeared.

Translation guide:

Dov-Al: Dragon-Destroyer

Zii-Vahlok: Soul-Protector

[dxwnfxll]

✧☽• Sweet Nerevar •☾✧

In this YOU are Nerevar, no specified race or gender, may differ away from canon a bit sorry

Based off of the wedding dream

Past romance - slight Angst - slightly Long

Tw: death, panic attack

It had been a couple weeks since you stepped off that boat, something drew you here. Before you had been working as a merchant in Cyrodiil, business had been slow for the past few months but your boss assured you everything would be okay. But then he passed, an illness overtook your boss's body and he slowly withered away before your very eyes. It had taken a few months before he was bed bound, his nord wife sitting by his side holding his hand as she wept. You still remember walking into the room and glancing at your mentor, your boss, and your friend as he wheezed before going into a coughing spell.

You stood right next to your boss's wife laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. They were both elderly, so you knew it would eventually happen but it still hurt nonetheless. There you stood comforting an elderly nord whose once blonde hair had turned grey at the root, whose face had wrinkled with time and whose eyes looked tired. 'Y/n..' A faint call from a dying Nord, his hair was completely grey along with his beard that had a few braids in it. His eyes looked tired as he stared up at you, you held it all in wanting to remain strong for your friend 'Sovengard awaits me..my friend' he said weakly. You regret not saying more in your short time with him, you regretted not thanking him for the years of mentoring. "I'm sorry bos-" he interrupted you "I'm not your boss anymore, right now I'm your friend" his wife had let go of his hand and now his boney scar covered hand reached out to you. He gave you a thankful look, a smile on his face till the very end. He used the strength he could to squeeze your hand in a comforting way, then he looked to his wife exchanging lovely words and promises to find each other again.

It had been a couple months since then and it still hurt to not see him, to not hear his advice. You were sat in an inn drinking a cup of mazte, glancing at the hand that held your cup a small glimmer of light. A ring of a moon and a star, you had slowly tried to accept your supposed fate. You were the Nerevar, a legend and to some a god. Azura had led you here, you had no recollection of this past life, no memory of Indoril Nerevar but yet you were him and he was you.

Ever since you got that ring from Azura you began to have weirdly cryptic dreams, dreams that made you want to stay awake. They made you feel as if you weren't really yourself, question if you were truly Y/N or Indoril. Dreams of a masked dunmer with three red eyes and long disheveled black hair. He felt so familiar but still like a stranger at the same time, you knew he was from your past but didn't know what as. Or maybe he was simply toying with you, making you confused and manipulating you into thinking he was someone.

You were torn away from your thoughts by a tap on your shoulder, blinking you looked behind you towards a dunmer woman "it's quite late will you be needing a room?" You nodded taking out ten gold, you already knew where the room was you had been staying here for the past three days sorting through your mind. You groggily walked to the small room before closing the door, a window sat near your bed giving you a good look at the stars outside. You laid on the worn bed, you didn't want to sleep but you had to. You couldn't run on matze, bread and cheese after all, you laid on your side bringing the scratchy blanket up to your shoulder curling up as you began to drift off. You prayed silently that your dreams would be normal for once.

It was dark for a moment before a light, a brazier near a pillar had lit up beautiful red flames appeared. Then the one across from it lit up, they continued to light up until you could see your surroundings. A long aisle with a red rug down it, small beautiful intricate designs were on it along with a golden lining. Pews lined up near pillars and down the aisle sat an altar, almost like you were at some temple. You tried to speak but no noise came out, you touched your throat trying again to speak to ask where you were, what was happening. You knew he controlled these dreams and you just wanted answers for these dreams. You looked around and began to notice little red lights fading in, as you squinted at them you could make out silhouettes of unrecognizable people. Their bodies all looked to be covered in ash and their eyes bled with a glowing red.

You tried to move but your feet were glued to the ground as if waiting for someone, and as you looked down you noticed your outfit had changed. Your armor gone and replaced by beautiful red robes, you looked to your hands seeing golden rings with jewels on almost every finger. Then you felt eyes on you, as you turned your head you could see the same mask that haunted your dreams. He stood above you his body stretched and unnerving to look at, you two stared at each other in pure silence the only sound being the flames crackling. Then he reached out a long slender hand to you, his nails were sharp and the tips of his fingers were dyed a red color. He only stared waiting for you to take his hand and once you did he stood up straight.

You finally got a view of how tall he was, he was definitely something other worldly as his height towered over you immensely. Everyone stared at you two with emotionless faces, he began to walk and your feet moved with his. People began to appear standing in the pews, what was this supposed to all mean. Was there some secret message behind this? Was he toying with you? You began to hear clapping but no one's hands moved, you began to hear talking but no one's mouth uttered a sound. You felt a tightness in your chest as you two walked getting closer and closer to the altar. There stood a priest but its face was twisted, a large trunk like appendage moved around from its face. Your breathing began to get worse as you looked around some of the faces looked familiar and it hurt your head.

Your head began to pound as you walked, everything seemed so slow. You felt sweat beads appear on your forehead and rolling down your face, you felt your head pounding as if someone was bashing it in repeatedly with a mace, you felt your legs begin to shake as they turned to jelly. You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go home. Home back in Cyrodiil, you wanted your merchant job back, you wanted your run down shack.

You felt the tall beings hand squeeze yours, was he really trying to comfort you in a nightmare he created? He finally stopped just as you both got to the altar, the cheers began to grow louder but no one's face moved from their expressionless gaze. Then he turned to you, moving your face so you'd look at him. His eyes began to glow as he stared at you, five words were spoken and nothing more.

"Come to me sweet Nerevar"

You awoke gasping for air as if you had been choked, you fell out of your bed holding your throat as you coughed. Your eyes bloodshot and your mouth dry, you took a moment on the ground just sitting there trying to compose yourself. Leaning against the side of the bed your breathing went back to normal, the pounding in your head dying down. You looked towards the window, you couldn't delay your prophecy anymore.

Hope y'all like this! I'll be writing more Elder scrolls stuff soon! Requests are always !!