#dagny of whiterun

[throughtrialbyfire]

𝐖𝐈𝐏 𝐖𝐞𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐲 ♥

on time this week! lets goooooo!! thank you to the amazing @thequeenofthewinter and @skyrim-forever for tagging me!! tagging @umbracirrus @your-talos-is-problematic @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @changelingsandothernonsense @orfeoarte @thana-topsy @v1ctory-or-sovngarde @wispstalk @gilgamish @viss-and-pinegar and anyone who feels like joining! no pressure as always <3

since i just finished my rewrite of the early chapters of Cycle of the Serpent and posted a new chapter, i'm bringing an excerpt from another wip. i have no idea when this one will even remotely get finished, as it's one that i come back to and then leave alone for months on end, but i love the slow working of it. so, here's a tiny bit of my dragonborn frothar fic, "Kill the Creature, Shed the Blood"! this is an extremely rough draft, but i hope you enjoy!

The dragon didn't entirely sell Dagny on not telling their father, but it sure was interesting. Plus, if it got her moping brother out of Dragonsreach for a night, then maybe it'd be fun to send him on his merry way. The two crept through the halls, down past a locked door, through strange and unused corridors. How many basements and cellars did one castle need? Frothar cursed silently as he followed his sister through the dark, her own cloak concealing her form. He'd donned one for his travels, and was glad he'd done so. The chill under these stones sunk into his blood. He couldn't stop the shivers that raced up his spine at every cobweb, and wondered how many frost spiders he may have been standing above his entire life. Maybe this was where Farengar got some of his ingredients, but he wouldn't pry. That'd give away where he'd been. And he couldn't be sure, he didn't see anything larger than a typical house spider, but… "Stop." Dagny pushed a hand out in front of her. Frothar, lost in his thoughts, stumbled backwards, boots making a loud, metallic sound against his armor. "What? Why?" She turned back, brow scrunched. "Because you're stepping on my cloak, what else?" He hadn't realized how close he'd been walking behind her. Trusting her sense of direction, and losing himself in the examinations of his surroundings, he'd found that he'd been a mere hairs width away from her. He swallowed uncomfortably, scrunching his nose. "Ah." "Come on," she hurried him along, rolling her eyes. She gestured forward, her feet again finding graceful step along the stone, his shambling awkwardly behind her. For his younger sister, she sure was bossy. But, that had always been Dagny, since the moment she was born. The minute the girl learned how to talk, he'd watched her demand things, from her toys to attention to outings. She'd demanded horses to ride and blades to spar with and dresses upon dresses. He snickered every now and again thinking back on the first year of the Dragon Crisis, how one of the ones she'd had tailored had never arrived, and she sulked for weeks after. Last he heard, it wound up in the closet of some Thalmor general's daughter, but that was just gossip.

Frothar did his best to keep a subtle distance between the pair, but not too far as to get lost in the dark. Lanterns were a risk, so Dagny lead by a tiny candle and her hand cupped around the flame. The flickering illuminated the dust, the piles of hay, the musty stench that surrounded them filling his nose. "So, how come you knew of these tunnels, and I didn't?" He finally asked, Dagny stopping momentarily. Before he could ask why, she swayed the candle, dropping the hand that shielded the flame, metal on a small bench catching the gleam. A shrine to Talos, as solemn as the grave, buried deep beneath Dragonsreach. "These tunnels were built for times of war, didn't you pay attention? Farengar taught us all about them, but you just kept dozing off in his lessons." "Not my fault that he taught them on the Great Balcony," Frothar replied, thinking back on the early summer afternoons where the wizard taught them the history of their Hold - much to the dismay of both the children and the wizard himself - and the warmth of creeping sleep that Frothar did his best to resist, and failed fantastically on some days. He figured this must have been one of those days, and instead turned his attention to the shrine. The offerings were simple; coins, snowberries, and tundra cotton. Still, it sent a pang of familiarity through him, of the conversations his father and uncle had in secret, of Nelkir's idle gossip, the youngest being fully aware of their father's worship. Perhaps Frothar was the last of the siblings to become aware of this fact, and in a way, it sent another pang of worry into his heart. Did he miss even more important information? Was he truly sleeping through some of the lessons Farengar departed, the important ones? He didn't have any time to think this over, as Dagny trudged forward through the dark, winding her way through familiar pathways. Frothar fell in step behind her, not wanting to be left behind. He didn't want to know if he was right on the frost spiders being beneath the castle, or whether that was just his paranoia.

The door slid open with a loud, thunderous creak, the kind that made him wince and worry if anyone heard it. Dagny, unfazed, pushed through, blowing the candle out. Frothar looked at her with a knit brow, but Dagny waved it away. "I know my way through the tunnels," she explained. Apparently, she'd been doing this for a while. He looked out on the horizon. Whiterun sat in a basin of wide plains, between the rising mountains, much like the center of a delicate bowl. The wind brushed through his dark hair, and he stepped forward, grass crunching beneath his feet. He'd packed his things for this trek, but he had no idea just how much of his adventure was going to be him tracking down the dragon, or him trying to survive it. "Good luck. Oh, and Frothar? Next time Nelkir offers first, take it up, or I'm gonna have to drag you through the dusty basements again." He watched as Dagny turned and shut the door behind her, barring it. He was truly, completely on his own out here.

#skyrim #skyrim fic #fanfic #tes v #tesblr #tes fanfiction #skyrim fanfiction #bishop.txt #wip wednesday #frothar of whiterun #dagny of whiterun #dragonborn frothar #ldb #last dragonborn #my writing

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Balgruuf the Greater, after there's an attempt on his life orchestrated by his kids: Wow, that sucked. Time to not think about that ever.

#balgruuf the greater #jarl balgruuf #the whispering door #nelkir #dagny #frothar #dragonsreach #whiterun #brat(s) of whiterun #nerevar queue and star #incorrect quotes #incorrect elder scrolls #incorrect skyrim quotes #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #source: tumblr

[umbracirrus]

WIP Wednesday💛💛💛

'tis Wednesday! I've been looking forward to sharing this part of the WIP, because I've been enjoying writing greatly these past few days (probably because I'm working again as of next week and inevitably won't have as much time)!

Tagged by @thequeenofthewinter 💛

Here are some more festival shenanigans, following on from last week's WIP, featuring Elyse, tarts, and a very drunken Hrongar....

"Where's Balgruuf, Elyse? I thought you were with him," Hrongar drawled just as he finished what was most certainly not his first tankard of mead that night based on his breath alone, taking a seat beside her on one of the benches beneath the Gildergreen where she had hidden herself away from the main bustle of the festival. "He was… pretty damn eager to spend the festival wi' you."

Having been caught by him in the middle of eating some of the tarts that she had taken far too great of a liking to because of just how delectable and cheap they were, she had to quickly wipe some of the pastry crumbs from around her mouth before she could properly speak. "We decided to check out a few of the stalls together, before he realised the time and said that he needed to return to Dragonsreach soon…" She then pulled the remaining tarts, which had been laid out on a cloth beside her, closer to her leg and hopefully out of sight, though the one she had been eating rested on her lap. "He's probably back there now, if you're looking for him?"

His face scrunched up at her response. "Idiot had an opportunity…" he attempted to mutter under his breath, just for it to come out much louder than he likely anticipated, and leaving her feeling puzzled by what he meant. "I'm not looking for 'im. Just thought the two of you would be together." He then shrugged, and leaned back. "By th' way… You're not hidin' those cakes well."

Scowling, she grabbed her half-eaten treat, then bit into it. She had been very much enjoying not having company as she indulged herself, but it seemed that the drunken Hrongar was there to stay given that he was now reclining to her side. She also didn't half feel perplexed by... well, everything he had said.

Once she had finished eating, she remained sat for a few moments, fingers digging into her knees as she contemplated either seeking a new place to finish her remaining tarts, or just letting him continue to linger in her personal space. Or perhaps she would even try to seek out Lydia, Dagny, and Mila on their 'sweet treat tour of Whiterun' just to get her mind away from the awkwardness.

She settled on returning to Dragonsreach.

Just as she stood up, and ensured that her remaining tarts had been carefully bundled away into the satchel which she had with her, a large hand suddenly grasped hold of her wrist. She turned to face Hrongar and glared at him as he held on tightly and didn't allow her to pull herself free.

"Jus'… before y' go," he mumbled, his voice starting to slur even more than it had been previously. "He's got walls built up. But… I think a dragon can bring 'em down."

#meg has done some writing #dragonborn oc elyse #fic - the perfect storm #yes that vendor absolutely was scamming balgruuf in the wip from last week but he didn't think to question it lol #(though i am intending to reduce that price tag from previously because i think it's a bit too extortionate in hindsight!!!!) #but let's just say that elyse got more than double for the same price!! #and we all know that there's that goddamn markup anyway at events and stuff. i went out a few weeks back and my god. the prices. #hrongar is the wingman which balgruuf neither wants nor needs. or even knows about. but is getting anyway.

[ladytanithia]

Writing WIP Wednesday

Happy Wednesday, and happy birthday to me! Tagging all my frenz... @dirty-bosmer @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter

For an upcoming chapter of Best-Laid Plans.

**************

When Miranja approached Balgruuf, he was initially jovial and told her how good it was to see her. She could sense that as-yet-unspoken attraction by the sparkle in his eye and the change in his posture. But when she asked the question about his children, he became somber.

“Come, let us talk privately,” he said, standing and reaching out for her hand. She gave it, and he took it in both of his. Her hands were rather chilly, and his were big and warm; she wished she could give him the other hand, as well, and still be able to walk comfortably. They headed up the stairs.

She thought he was going to take her out on the Great Porch, but instead he led her across the large foyer to the door leading to the Jarl’s Quarters. He opened it and led her through, right on up to his private dining room. Still, he didn’t stop, but led her to the back of the room and out the door to the southwest, where she found they were on a narrow balcony with a breathtaking view of seemingly the entire hold.

Here he led her down the steps that ran alongside what she believed to be a bell tower, then he stopped and turned toward her, taking her other hand in his. Miranja enjoyed the warmth as she looked expectantly into his earnest eyes.

“All of this,” he began, inclining his head toward the sweeping tundra to the west, “is under my jurisdiction. Most of my people are farmers and Whiterun is the only walled city in the hold, so they are all vulnerable to not only the usual bandit raids and wild animals, but now also to dragon attacks. My men – like in all the other holds – are stretched thin already, thanks to the war, and it’s been a great challenge trying to ensure my people are as safe and protected as I can make them.”

Miranja briefly wondered what this had to do with his children, but she kept her silence and looked at him attentively as he expounded.

“I admit I haven’t given the children the attention they need lately. My mind and heart have been heavy with other matters. I’m aware that my children are... not the kindest people. Nelkir, though... he’s changed lately. He’s always been a quiet boy, but he’s become brooding, even violent. He won’t speak to me, and I feel I’ve upset him somehow, but I don’t know what I might have done. He has a different mother than the other two; my wife died in childbirth with Dagny, and in my grief, I turned to a kind and lovely young woman who used to work here at Dragonsreach.”

Miranja was shivering slightly, and Balgruuf released her hands and extended his arm slightly toward her at shoulder height with a gentle smile. Miranja took the suggestion and stepped close to his side, allowing him to encircle her shoulders, putting her own arm around his waist. They stood companionably, outer hands on the railing, as Balgruuf continued his story.

#skyrim #tesblr #elder scrolls #miranja #fanfic #ao3 #balgruuf #tes #skyrim fanfiction #tanithia writes

[sylvienerevarine]

every day and in every way i am completing more @nirnwrote prompts. this one via @chaoticsleepygremlin featuring "why is there chocolate on the ceiling?"

--

Sophrine had seen a great many intimidating things during her time in Skyrim, but few of them could compare to being stared down by three unimpressed, aristocratic children.

“Why exactly are you spending the day with us?” asked Frothar.

“Because,” Sophrine said patiently, “Fianna usually makes sure you lot aren’t butchering each other, but she’s ill. I was in town, and your father asked if I could lend a hand, since he doesn’t trust you to your own devices.”

“This is ridiculous,” huffed Dagny, pushing away the chocolate-filled pastry in front of her (Sophrine had brought them as a peace offering, though it didn’t seem effective). “You don’t know anything about us and what we like. And I have very particular tastes.”

“Sophrine knows a lot more than you think,” Nelkir said quietly. “More than anyone here except me.”

Sophrine’s mind flashed to the ebony sword hidden in the cellar, and she shuddered. She’d rather forget that particular secret, thanks very much.

“Well, I get paid whether or not you have fun,” she said with a shrug, sitting down. “So we’ve really got two options. We can all sit around here staring at each other until we all turn into draugr–that’s how they’re made, look it up–or we can play Secret Werewolf. Your choice.”

“Secret Werewolf?” Nelkir asked, looking intrigued in spite of himself. “What’s that?”

“You don’t know about Secret Werewolf?” Sophrine shook her head. “My goodness, what are they teaching children in Skyrim? Well, it doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t like it. It’s just about murder and magic and secret identities.”

There was a silence.

“See? It’s just like I said: she has no idea what we like,” said Dagny. “How do we play this…Secret Werewolf?”

“I’ll need a few pieces of paper, a quill, and a promise not to tell anyone your assigned role,” said Sophrine. “And someone fetch Farengar and your uncle. We’re going to need a bigger group.”

—

“Another beautiful day dawns in the city of Whiterun,” Sophrine said gravely. “Alas, I have some sad news. During the night, our beloved wizard Farengar was cruelly torn apart by…the secret werewolf.”

“Ah, me, how unfortunate,” Farenger said dryly.

“Unfortunate indeed. For poor Farengar’s soul cannot rest until the werewolf is brought to justice.” Sophrine gestured expansively. “I will now hear your accusations.”

“It was Nelkir,” Dagny said immediately. “For sure.”

“An interesting theory. Your evidence?”

“Because he’s Nelkir,” said Dagny, “and he’s creepy. Also he would definitely kill Farengar.”

“To be fair, I did feel someone moving next to me,” said Frothar. “Could’ve been Nelkir. I vote him too.”

“Aye, I’ll have to vote for the lad as well,” put in Hrongar. “Sorry, son.”

“As you wish,” said Sophrine. “Nelkir, please show us your card.”

Nelkir irritably flipped over the paper in front of him, on which was clearly written HUMAN.

“It wasn’t me, you idiots,” he snarled. “If it had been, I’ve have killed Dagny straight off.”

Dagny threw her pastry at him and missed, sending chocolate spattering over a significant portion of wall. Sophrine shook her head.

---

“For shame, townspeople! Not only have you killed an innocent man, but you have wasted a very good pain au chocolat. Back to sleep with you, and we’ll see which poor soul perishes tonight.”

“So, it was Hrongar?” Balgruuf asked several hours later, looking impressed. “I didn’t realize he was capable of subtlety.”

“He surprised me, that’s for sure,” said Sophrine. “Nelkir was the werewolf during the next round, but the poor boy started laughing so hard the others guessed right away. Still, I think everyone had fun.”

“That’s an understatement. I’ve never seen all of my children smiling at the same time. Should I ask why there is chocolate on the ceiling?”

“Probably best not to.”

“Fair enough. Well, Miss Aulette, your payment.” He handed her a bulging coin purse. “Two hundred septims.”

“Two hundred?” Sophrine frowned. “I thought we agreed on fifty.”

“Miss Aulette, my children are not only alive and uninjured, but happy,” said Balgruuf. “Were it within my power, I would appoint you Empress.”

#my writing #skyrim fic #skyrim #oc: sophrine #jarl balgruuf

[listenermage]

The animals of House Revna

Dagni, Alma and Esther - They're three Irish wolfhounds that are always in her vicinity in one way or another. As a single mother of four with an ageing and disabled mother, these three protect the properties and the children with a fierce loyalty. All three have purple ribbon collars with the family crest on the front of a tiny metal plate and their names on the back

Varni - A female chestnut draft horse and Estrid's signature mount, often adorned with steel armour with the family crest upon it.

Bjorn - He was originally Frode's mount, but since her injury making riding extremely uncomfortable, the male draft horse is used to pull the carriage used when the family travels between the house in Whiterun and the farm.

Torvas - A great owl which is used as a messenger bird by the Revna family, he too adorned with the family crest in the same way that the dogs are.

Vik and Telik - Are the two ravens that circled the property when it came into the Revna's possession and they're very strickly Frode's birds. They can often be found on her shoulders or just in her general area, chatting with each other and instigating mischief amongst locals.

Dia - A white cat, simply named after Diabella, as white cats are sacred to her followers and its extremely fitting.

A nameless female cow - She lives at Ravenfeather and supplies the family with milk and its something that is sold at the markets in Whiterun.

Three female chickens - same applies as above with the cow.

#( 💎 ) ; headcanons

[callsignbaphomet]

Okay, so like I said on a previous post this is mostly unedited, messy and it certainly coulda been leagues better but I finally managed to write something so I’m not gonna complain. Also yes it’s their Skyrim versions.

Trevor was wrong, Ginger was wrong, Latoya was wrong, they were all wrong. He wasn’t getting any better, in fact, he could feel it was getting worse. Two days of a headache that was getting worse and worse especially during the day. Two days of a growing hunger that no amount of food could satisfy or stay down for long. He couldn’t even keep water down anymore. No matter how many hours he slept or rested he was still too tired. Moving felt agonizing at this point. It was now on the eve of the second day that he agreed to return to his home but no matter how much the others pleaded to accompany him he refused. Symptoms were bad during the night, but they were worse during the day and some company to make sure he arrived safely was the right course of action though he refused to let the group go out of their way just for him.

He felt it was a rotten thing to do, leaving without letting any of them know or saying good-bye, but he knew they would insist on going back with him so he did the only thing he could to avoid it. Jelani set off to the manor long before the sun rose over the horizon. It would’ve taken him at least four hours to reach his home so if he calculated it correctly he’d only be exposed to daylight for only half an hour. He could manage it; he’d been managing it for several days now. What was only half an hour more? So he grabbed his horse, his raven, and his belongings as quietly as he could and without a second thought rode off into the night. He rode for what felt like hours and hours. Eventually he saw the sun rising over the mountains that dotted Skyrim and forgot how much longer until he could see the manor in which he grew up in. The route didn’t feel right but it was familiar to him, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was near or far, the signs on the corners were a blurry mess, the letters melted into each other as he tried to focus his sights on them so he figured he’d go by memory but even that was failing him. So he continued to ride. If he had to guess it was almost midday now and he still hadn’t reached the manor. He was hunched over the horse, hands barely gripping the reins, and his eyelids felt heavy. At one point he could even swear he felt his heartbeat less and less as well as having difficulty breathing.

What could he have possibly been infected with?

Dagny crowed loudly as she took off to the sky and for that minute he woke from his daze long enough to see a blurry mess of buildings in front of him. Was it Falkreathe? Whiterun? Rorikstead? He wasn’t sure, he could barely make out anything in front of him and the more he tried to focus the worse he felt. Suddenly he felt as if he couldn’t breathe and in his panic he fell off his horse landing hard on the dirt road only a few feet away from the entrance to Rorikstead. Dagny flew down to her perch on the saddle and looked down at Jelani. She then swooped down to him and grabbed some of his hair with her beak and tugged on it like she normally did when trying to wake him in the morning but he wouldn’t budge. When that didn’t seem to work she cawed at him as loud as she could and tugged harder but there was no response.

“Hey,” A guard cried out as he ran towards Jelani, “Are you alright?”

No response. The guard looked around the area with his right hand hovering over his sword in case it was a trap or a robbery gone wrong and the attackers were still in the area. Once he felt it was safe he shoved Dagny away unaware that she has his pet, not a scavenger, and kneeled down beside him to check up on him.

“What’s happened?” Another guard asked as he walked over to the first guard.

“No idea. Wasn’t an attack from what I can see. No arrows, no cuts, and no blood anywhere.”

“Is he alive?”

The first guard placed his hand on Jelani’s chest to see if he was breathing but he couldn’t exactly tell. The second guard groaned out loud and moved the first guard, “Not like that, idiot.”

He placed his index and middle finger on the side of Jelani’s neck and checked for a pulse which he wasn’t finding any. After a minute he shook his head and the other guard understood.

“Oh, no. No, wait a minute,” The second guard said as he moved Jelani’s hair away from his face to get a better look at him, “I know him.”

“Who was he?”

“There’s a healer that lives near Falkreathe. Few years back my little cousins fell gravely ill and my aunt and uncle took them to his house. He had a little brother living with him. This is him, I’m sure of it. Grab the horse and follow me, I’ll send word to his brother.”

The second guard picked him up while the first one grabbed the horse’s reins and guided him into town. Once in town Jouane intercepted the two guards and asked what had happened and after briefly explaining Jouane paused for a moment. He couldn’t possibly leave a body out in the open, it was disrespectful to both the deceased and to the people living in the town. He asked both guards to follow him which they did. They circled behind the buildings and reached the back of Rorik’s manor and opened the cellar doors. Jouane knew Rorik never set foot down in the cellar so it would be the perfect place to leave the corpse until his family came to collect him, Jouane would explain to Rorik later, he always knew how to handle Rorik and just about everyone in town.

The guard that recognized Jelani volunteered to ride out to Falkreathe once his shift was over to alert Jelani’s brother of his passing and accompany him to Rorikstead.

Dagny hadn’t left the area. When the guard shoved her off she flew up to the roof of the inn and watched as they carried Jelani to the basement of the manor and left the horse, Bheka, near the cellar doors. Once she saw the guards and Jouane left she flew down to the doors and pecked at it as if knocking. She did that several times and each time waited for an answer but nothing came. After staring at the doors for a few minutes she looked up at Bheka and flew up towards the saddle and perched herself on the horn and waited.

Once the guard’s shift ended and his replacement arrived he made his way to Rorik’s manor to grab a single belonging from the corpse to bring with him as proof. As he turned the corner he saw the horse was gone but even more worrisome was that the cellar doors were wide open. He went down to the cellar but the body was gone. He was sure he was dead when he checked his pulse, there was no doubt about it. He frantically searched all over the cellar but to no avail. Someone either moved the body, Jouane had sent someone else to alert the family and they came to retrieve the body or he was still alive and awoke only to leave and was now wandering around the area quite possibly dazed and confused. The guard went back out and was going to find Jouane but a faint neigh caught his attention, he looked up towards the hills that adorned the northern side of Rorikstead and in the distance he made out what looked like a horse. He turned to the cellar and then looked up at the horse again weighing his options. He was well aware that sabercats roamed the wilds and a horse as beautiful as that didn’t deserve to be mauled to death by one of those beasts. He made his way towards the horse keeping an eye out and listening for trouble. Bheka seemed calm and was grazing away at the cool grass without a care in the world. On the saddle’s horn sat the raven he saw earlier, now he was sure the bird had belonged to the dead Redguard and he felt a pang of guilt rising from within for scaring it away from its former owner. Dagny kept her eyes on the guard and stood still, she almost looked like an adornment.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, there’s a good boy.” He clicked at the horse as he reached for the reins but was startled when he heard a branch snap behind him. He quickly turned around only to see nothing. Just shrubs, trees, and overgrown bushes covering the hilltop. It could’ve been a fox or a sabercat for all he knew. Whatever it was he wasn’t going to stay long enough to find out, as he kept an eye on the bushes he stretched his right arm and tried to grab Bheka’s reins but accidently grabbed the saddle’s horn where Dagny was resting. She pecked at him and cawed loudly which prompt the Nord to turn around and grab his hand, rubbing where the corvid had pecked him. It’d only been a warning peck but it didn’t hurt, more like startled him even more than he already was.

“Listen here, bird. I’m in no mood for games.” The guard said in an accusing tone as he pointed at Dagny. As he reached for the reins yet again he froze in place when he heard a low hiss coming from the bushes behind. Bheka snorted loudly as he stomped at the ground with his forelegs, the guard kept his focus on the horse as a jolt of adrenaline laced with fear traveled all over his body. The horse kept stomping at the ground, its ears were locked forward, nostrils were flared, and the whites of its eyes were now visible. It was scared of something that was right behind him and the horse was looking right at it.

His right hand slowly crept towards his sword. He had it all planned out in his head. With a single move he’d swing his sword as he turned to face whatever was behind him. He hoped that by swinging his sword he would injure whatever was behind him buying him time to strike a second and hopefully fatal blow. He was ready. It was a move he’d done dozens of times before. He knew the exact weight of his iron sword and the length of the blade by heart. He’d driven off many would be robbers and raiders in his time as a guard. This was his job; this was what he’d trained for. His hand had grasped the grip of his sword, all he had to do now was swing and turn his body with the momentum of drawing his sword.

He was ready.

He was also much slower than his stalker. A set of sharp and cold claws sliced the back of his head. The Nord lost his grip and balance as the pain quickly registered and all he could muster was a measly groan as he fell to his knees and watched the horse take off in a panic with the raven flying after it. As the pain intensified he could hear the attacker making their way towards him but before he could turn around his attacker grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled back as hard as they could. The guard lost his balance and fell back and finally laid eyes on his stalker.

There was a low grumbling snarl caught in his throat as he looked at the guard. He wasn’t exactly sure what was driving him but he knew he wasn’t able to take control, it was as if someone else had possessed him and he was helpless to stop it. The fear in the guard’s eyes aroused him far more than anything else ever did. His nostrils flared as he smelled the blood and it was driving him mad. The irony substance smelled sweeter than any mead or wine that ever passed his lips. He had to taste it. He didn’t know why and didn’t care to know either, he just needed to taste his victim’s blood, he was almost lusting for it.

“Please…” The guard managed to gurgle out as he brought up his left hand. “Stay away, please…”

He didn’t care for the man’s pleading, in fact, he was surprised to find himself feeling indifferent. He stood over the guard and sat on him as he watched him plead and beg for his life. It only made the blood smell twice as sweet and twice as tempting. He lowered himself and actually heard the man’s heart beating loud and fast, and then in one fell swoop he bit down on the guard’s throat as hard as he could. The guard struggled and tried to push him off but when he bit down again there was a loud crunch and suddenly the guard stopped moving. He paid no mind to it; all he could taste, and smell was that sweet blood that had been calling out to him. It was a sloppy kill and most of the blood fell to the ground but what didn’t he lapped up and sucked out of the wound in an almost animalistic and desperate manner. Once he swallowed the last bit of blood from his first victim Jelani somehow felt weaker than he had the last few days. He motioned to stand but fell back to the ground as his head spun. He lifted himself up but kept his head low as he swallowed the blood that was still coating the inside of his mouth. It was then he noticed his teeth, long and sharp fangs had replaced all four of his smaller and more blunt fangs. He rubbed each one with the tip of his tongue and finally processed that what he was tasting was blood. A cold wave of panic washed over him when he laid eyes on the body in front of him. He was starting to realize what had just happened, like a veil was lifted from his eyes and he was in control again. He managed to stand back up all the while keeping an eye on the dead Nord. With one hand he clutched his stomach, the other he used to cover his mouth. The guard was dead for sure and he was responsible for his death. Jelani could still smell blood and realized he was covered in the guard’s blood. His hands, bottom half of his face, and throat were stained red. He shuttered as he lifted his hand from his mouth and saw it was dripping with blood and that’s when he noticed claws as sharp as his fangs and interlaced between them were strands of the guard’s brown hair. They must’ve got caught when he slashed the back of the man’s head. Jelani covered his mouth again as he heaved heavily once again as if to vomit but nothing came up. He turned around to see where his horse had run off to. Thankfully Bheka hadn’t gotten far but as Jelani approached the horse it reared in fear as it snorted. Dagny seemed to be all right, she perched herself on his left shoulder as she usually did. He then grabbed Bheka’s reins and tried to calm the horse down.

“Bheka, it’s okay, it’s me. Please, it’s still me.”

After a minute Bheka seemed to calm down and once he did Jelani mounted his horse and road as fast as he could to the only place in Skyrim he felt he could be safe: home.

“Listen, you’ve been working on potions all day long. Night is still young, how about I make us some dinner and we can eat and drink out in the balcony. Stronghold can hold itself together for two more nights.”

“I am getting a bit tired.” Loke said as he put down the last sealed healing potion and gently planted a kiss on Nagronar. “Let me clean this up and I’ll help.”

Nagronar chuckled as he stood up, “Oh, no, you don’t. Clean up and meet me in the kitchen but you’re only going to watch.”

“I like more than just watching, you know.”

Caught by surprise by the comment Nagronar let out a hearty laugh which in turn made Loke smile sheepishly. As he was about to say something else they both heard the front door open and quickly close. There was only one other person with the key to the manor so Loke poked his head out of the alchemy tower and called out, “Jelani? Is that you?”

There was a moment of silence before Loke and Nagronar heard footsteps running across the wooden floor of the manor. As both men looked at each other in confusion Loke heard a door open and then close.

“Jelani?” Loke called out once again but there was no answer.

“That’s odd.” Nagronar said as he looked back at Loke who now looked worried. “I hope nothing happened.”

Loke carefully put all the potions and alchemical ingredients aside before he and Nagronar went down to the first floor to look for Jelani. The kitchen and greenhouse doors were wide open so he hadn’t hid in any of those rooms. The alchemy tower doors were also wide open, the only exception was the washroom but the doors had an odd creaking sound so he was certain his brother hadn’t gone in there. The only place left was the cellar. Loke reached for the handle and pulled on it, surprisingly it wasn’t locked and after a minute of reflecting on whether he should follow his brother or not he climbed down the ladder followed by Nagronar.

“Jelani, are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you answer?” Loke called out as he reached the bottom of the ladder. He was still unsure if following him down was a good idea. One thing that Loke knew about his brother that no one else knew was that when he was a child he would often hide out in the cellar when he was either angry or upset. He often said the peacefulness and quiet of the cellar helped him think and calm down. Because of this Loke was worried. He slowly approached the wall that divided the old forge and the rest of the cellar. He didn’t want to intrude on his brother but his silence was making him worried, he wasn’t sure if he was hurt or if something had happened to him out there. He just needed to know if he was okay for him to relax.

“Jelani?” Loke called out once again.

“Stay…back.”

“All right, but I just want to know if you’re hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, can I go over to you? Is that okay?”

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Loke looked back at Nagronar, he was worried and confused as well but was also alert. Something didn’t seem right; Jelani was not violent, and he wouldn’t hurt anyone without any reason much less would he hurt his own brother. Loke then took a step forward and gently said, “I know you wouldn’t. I’d still like to get close to see if you’re alright. Can I?”

“Okay…” He finally conceded.

Loke slowly made his way around the wall and found his brother sitting on the floor with his head tucked between his knees. First thing he noticed was the blood on his clothes which made every alarm in him go off at the same time but he remained calm so he wouldn’t startle Jelani. He kneeled down in front of his brother and the smell of blood hit him hard.

“Are you hurt? Can I see?”

Jelani tried to stop himself from crying but he couldn’t any longer and began to cry as he recalled the events. He knew Loke saw the blood and assumed it was his and that he’d been injured somehow. He gathered himself as best he could and through tears and sniffles said, “It’s not mine. I—I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t. It was as if it wasn’t me anymore and something else took over.”

“You’re not making any sense. What happened?”

“I killed him. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop myself and when I saw the blood I completely lost control and then…then…”

Before he could finish the sentence Jelani leaned his head to the side and threw up. Loke quickly stood up and backed away as he saw the large puddle of blood. Nagronar moved in but stopped behind Loke when he saw the blood on the floor and the blood covering Jelani. Loke kneeled back down and wiped some of the blood from his brother’s mouth, he felt cold to the touch and could feel him trembling though he was almost sure it wasn’t because he was cold. With his thumb he raised Jelani’s upper lip further up and noticed the two fangs and then noticed the bottom two fangs and sighed. He could feel his eyes beginning to burn but he held it together for a little longer.

“When did it happen?” Loke asked in a whispering tone.

“Tonight.”

“Maybe there’s still time. Maybe a dose or two of cure disease might do the trick.”

“It won’t work.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Loke, I’m not a child!” Jelani yelled at the top of his lungs and then looked directly at Loke. His eyes were the same shade of blue as they’d always been but they had an otherworldly glow to them and the sclera had turned as black as the void. “Don’t lie to me. It’s too late, you know it as well as I do.”

“It’ll be alright, we’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this.”

“You have to kill me.”

“What!? No! No, don’t say that. It’s gonna be alright, I swear it.”

“I don’t wanna hurt anyone else! Please, just get it over with before I hurt you or anyone else!”

Loke reached forward and hugged Jelani as tight as he could. In turn Jelani broke down in tears again and returned the hug. Nagronar who had obviously heard the conversation between the siblings made his way over to Loke and kneeled next to them. He didn’t have to ask the blood covering the younger brother, the claws at the end of his fingers and the pleading began to make sense.

“You know,” He began, “I know a werewolf who is kind, gentle, and loving.” He paused for a second when Loke jerked his head towards him. He looked at him with pleading eyes but Nagronar gave him a small smile to reassure him. “They lost control once but they learned to gain control over their new nature and haven’t hurt anyone since.”

“Werewolves don’t need to kill people for their blood, Nagronar.” Jelani said as he leaned back and wiped his tears away.

“So we find a way. Besides, little brother, there’s plenty o’ murderous bastards out there askin’ to be put down, ya know.”

Jelani actually laughed a bit and leaned back while staring at nothing. Sure, he was a mercenary. Yes, it was true he took on bounties and most of them ended with the involved parties dead, but they were scum who robbed, killed, and hurt others just for a handful of coins or less. He had absolutely no problem raising a blade to end them but that was an agreed upon contract against raiders or in self-defense. He could still see the guard’s face and worse yet could still hear the man pleading for his life and the worst part was how he felt nothing when he killed an innocent man in cold blood. No remorse at the time, he just saw the man and acted upon what he felt he needed to do which would normally make him sick to the stomach.

“I’m tired.” He quietly said.

“That’s fine, little brother,” Nagronar responded before Loke could, “Go ahead and get yourself cleaned up. We’ll take care of the rest, all right?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.” Loke reassured him as well.

Jelani nodded and quietly stood up to go and wash up and get some clean clothes and hopefully fall asleep for as long as he could. He hadn’t been able to get a descent night’s rest since he’d fallen ill and after he threw up he felt he could sleep for years.

“I don’t know the first thing about vampires.” Loke admitted as he stood to get a cloth that was hanging off a barrel near the old forge. “All I know is they have to avoid direct sunlight and drink blood.”

“Hmm, I may know of someone that can give us all the information we need. In fact, a mutual friend of ours knows her.”

“Who? I mean, we can’t just trust anybody with this information. It’s hard for me but I can easily hide I’m a werewolf. Vampires, on the other hand, have their features out for the world to see. Nagronar, these Vigilants of Stendarr maniacs declared it open season on vampires since they attacked one of their buildings!”

“I know, shh, I know. Calm down. This didn’t exactly happen at the best of times but he’s one of the best at illusions. He’s smart, he’ll manage.”

“I know he is and I wasn’t doubting him…” Loke reached behind him for a bucket and began to mop up the blood on the floor. “I’m just—I don’t wanna lose him. I don’t want anything to happen to him. I don’t want him to have to go through anything bad!” Loke slammed the cloth he was using to clean up the puddle and sighed deeply as he tried to gather himself. Yelling, screaming and certainly making a bigger mess wasn’t going to fix the problem. He had to focus on trying to keep his brother safe or at least as safe as he could now. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I did say, ‘We’ll take care of the rest’, didn’t I, my love? At first light I’ll find the woman I spoke of and come back with everything we need to know. I’ll stay here for a few more days until things settle down. I’ll go and make sure all the windows are closed and while you finish up there.”

The guilt of murdering the guard haunted Jelani for hours and after crying to the point of exhaustion he finally gave up and fell asleep. He wouldn’t be able to guess how long he slept. When he did awaken he remained in bed and after some time he fell back asleep and the cycle repeated. Through the haziness of being between sleep and awake he could sometimes tell Loke was checking up on him and would sometimes speak to him, whether he answered or not he was unsure but Loke felt calm which was a relief. After a while he could smell a distinct scent that arose whenever Loke was nearby. It was berries and rosewood with something else though he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. The berries and rosewood he could explain, their mother at one point in her life picked up the hobby of making scented oils, a hobby her eldest picked up from her. The other smell he couldn’t identify, it wasn’t a bad smell, it was familiar yet he could not identify it. He remained in that cycle of sleeping and awaking just long enough to fall back asleep though he wasn’t sure for how long it went on.

On a rainy sundown Jelani awoke and felt a certain jolt of energy writhing through his body like he had never felt before. He felt awake, strong, and aware of everything. He sat up on the bed and placed his bare feet on the wooden floor and was surprised to feel nothing. Not the cold of the air or the cold of the wooden floor and for a moment he thought back on all the times he’d done exactly as he was doing now and quickly put his feet back up due to the coldness of the floor. Yet there he was with his bare feet touching the floor and not registering the temperature. It felt odd. He then looked up at the roof and listened to the rain fall on it, a sound he heard many times through out his life but this time it sounded far more intense, as if he could really hear every drop hitting the roof. He kept staring and then he noticed just how sharp the details of the wood looked. The manor was far older than even his parents were and no amount of upkeep could possibly make the wood look like that. He then looked around and focused, everything looked much clearer and sharper. He could even read the titles on the spine of the books on the shelves at the end of the hall. It was then he noticed his entire bedroom was dark, not even a single little candle was on and he could see all of that as clear as if it was midday on a clear summer day. Jelani was astonished for sure but he was also nervous at these new revelations and somehow eager to discover what else there was. He finally stood up from the bed and he caught the faint smell of rosewood and the other familiar smell.

“Loke.” He thought to himself.

He made his way to the first floor and heard two voices speaking and a second scent hit him, this one was of pine mixed with what he guessed was body odor. He wondered if he could actually smell people’s scent.

“I’ll go put the horses away, dear.”

That was Nagronar’s voice. Jelani quickly made his way down the main stairs, across the dining room, then the gathering room and stopped at the entrance of the manor but didn’t see the orc or his brother. A few seconds later the door opened and Loke walked in covered in rain. He’d heard them all the way back there and they still hadn’t come into the manor. It was astonishing.

“Jelani? You’re awake! Are you alright?” Loke happily asked. He quickly took off the wet coat and furs and hugged Jelani.

Rosewood and that wild smell, his brother’s scent. As soon as it registered in his mind he smiled and hugged his brother back tighter than he had ever hugged him before.

“I am,” Jelani answered and gently pressed his forehead against Loke’s in that familiar way they always did, “How long have I been sleeping?”

“Three days and you awoke just in time.” Loke said as he grabbed a knapsack he’d set down when he entered the manor and quickly made his way to the gathering room but not before grabbing Jelani’s hand and pulling him with him. When they reached the room Loke sat on one of the chairs and sat Jelani next to him. Loke seemed oddly enthusiastic. Maybe he’d found a way to cure vampirism.

“While you were resting Nagronar got into contact with someone who knows a lot about things most of us don’t. She gave him several things to help us out. On the table right behind you is a wooden box with what looks like potions. I mean, technically they kind of are. Blood potions, it’s a much watered down version of blood but it is in no way a replacement for it, okay? You need actual blood from humans or mer to survive but those will help you keep what she called the bloodlust under control. You can feed every other night and she said you wouldn’t need to kill anyone for it. If you keep the supply of blood steady you just need one bite from anyone.”

“Wait a minute, wouldn’t I be turning people if I bite them?”

“Apparently it doesn’t work like that. Bites don’t infect. She said it was through consuming a vampire’s blood—she called it accepting the gift—whatever that means or by contracting sanguinare vampiris from a spell vampires use. Some kind of drain attack which is what I’m guessing happened.”

“What happens if I don’t feed or have access to any blood potions?”

“You can go three days before you succumb to bloodlust. It’s a survival state of sorts, from what I understood your body takes over and searches for sustenance. You’d be in some kind of hypnotic state. She said some vampires refer to it as ‘stage four’ and it’s dangerous. You’d try to find some blood no matter where it comes from.”

“Is that what happened? With the guard?”

Loke lowered his gaze and nodded.

“Oh…”

“It wasn’t your fault, Jela. You couldn’t help it. If we try to keep it in check it won’t happen again. I swear it. Three days at the most, on the fourth day you lose control over yourself and may even be hunted down. Apparently illusion spells don’t work on vampires in stage four. She said most vampires use a type of glamour spell to hide their features or have a spell that emits from them to make others see them as still living.”

“Sounds easy enough. I’ve been practicing illusions since I was a child.”

“Exactly. But you don’t have to do that here, you’re perfectly safe here. She also advised against travelling during the day but if you absolutely have to you must cover up as much as you can and avoid too much time under the sun. She said exposure to direct sunlight is agonizing. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you won’t be affected by the cold either.”

“Yeah, I actually noticed that a bit earlier. Actually, I noticed a lot of things sort of…changed. I can see, hear and smell…better? If that makes sense?”

“It…actually does. She also warned me that you’re far more susceptible to fire spells now and healing spells don’t work on the undead…but, she told me of a place where I can get my hands on some healing spells that do affect all manner of undead including vampires.”

“Did she say anything else?”

Loke groaned as he tried to keep his laughter down which wasn’t exactly working. “You’re not gonna believe this but you guys kind of have to sleep in coffins.” As he finished the sentence he covered his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“No, absolutely not! I am not doing that. You insufferable toad, stop laughing!”

“It’s not everyday, ya soggy sweet roll. It’s just every so often to keep your energy up or something like that.”

“What about food and water? Wait! Oh, please tell me I can still drink.”

Loke bit his bottom lip to avoid laughing again and shook his head much to Jelani’s disappointment, “No more need of food, water or alcohol. From now on the menu is blood and sometimes blood potions.”

“Son of a bitch…” Jelani complained as he threw himself back against the chair and sighed deeply. The spiced wine in the cellar he’d been saving and savoring after was out of his reach. He turned to Loke in the hopes that he was joking but the smirk on his face and the slow shaking weren’t filling him with much confidence.

“Well, not all is lost. You’ll stay young and gorgeous forever, little brother.”

“Eh…”

“Oh, stop pouting. Here,” Loke turned to grab his knapsack and rummaged through it. He then pulled out a book that looked very weathered and old, and handed it to Jelani but before letting go his expression turned serious, “There isn’t much written on vampires, most of the information is word of mouth but it’s out there. There’s also a lot people out there who’ll hurt you or worse because of what you are. I don’t think I have to state the obvious but I still will, you have to keep this to yourself and know who you can trust. Part of me wants to lock every door in this house to keep you safe in here but it’s not fair to you. You’re so much smarter and better than I am so I know you’ll be alright, I trust you. But if anything happens I’ll always be on your side, no matter what.”

Both gave each other a smile and pressed their foreheads against each other’s. Jelani understood Loke’s worries and admittedly he was worried as well but Loke was right. Keeping him inside the manor for the rest of his life wasn’t the answer. He’d be back on the road again and off to find the group, whether he’d go farther than he usually did was still left up in the air. For now he wanted to stay home until he could understand his condition better and admittedly until he felt Loke was more at ease with the entire situation.

“I’ll go and start dinner.” Loke said as he backed away and playfully ruffled Jelani’s hair, “Nagronar’s gonna stay for a few days. You alright with that?”

“Aye, it’s a good idea.”

“I thought so too.”

Loke let go of the book and reminded Jelani about the potions as he left to go into the kitchen. Jelani looked at the book’s cover and the pages that had turned yellow with time and wondered how many people handled the book before him. It had that distinct smell all books have, a smell he loved and adored. To be able to experience the smell at the magnitude he was experiencing now made having been turned into a vampire almost a blessing. The book had certainly seen better days but it still held together nicely enough, still, he handled it with as much care as he could. He opened the book and saw the title that was written on the first page, Opusculus Lamae Bal.

#001022 #la: skyrim #Jelani tag #Loke tag #Nagronar tag

[tmvoldemort]

5, 6, 14!

Let’s talk ships!

5.) Favorite Canon ship : Bellamort is canon, right? Yeah! Outside of HP, Wall-E and EVE. Carmila and Laura (Not base on the novel, or web play but a modern play).Sadly those are the only ones I can remember right now.

6.) Favorite Crack ship: Dagny of Whiterun and Aludin from Skyrim. Seriously a crack ship of my making and poking fun of the whole Princess and Dragon trope. I have never laughed so hard at that!!!! 

14.) A ship you never considered but is now one you love. : Chibi Usa and Hotraru from Sailor moon. I mean in terms of like ships I write and read this is more of an innocent one. More of a strong bond with lesbian over tones. Tho I like to keep it rather pure and wholesome. But since I worry its a fetish out there in the world I avoid going checking it out. So...

#meme #ooc #I can #as you tag me #now tag you for ship questions lol #sinisteraugurey

[theimmersivist]

===================== THERE AND BACK AGAIN ===================== It is no small task, the building of a respectable steading. Particularly when the plot of land you've been awarded sits abreast a bog brimming with necromantic energies and the mouth of the Karth River, the busiest waterway and channel in Skyrim, and no stranger to brigands with more nautical inclinations. However great a task it proved, Akhara found that her meager time in Skyrim, and all those she had once helped in the past, arrived to pitch in. . From Morthal, Jarl Idgrod Ravencrone herself (with whom Akhara has evolved a mutual friendship and respect) dispatched a handsome shipment of lumber which was delivered personally by Thonnir, his son Virkmund, and their associate Jorgen. Though each would insist the fees had already been duly paid by Aslfur, Akhara refused to let their lumberjacks leave without accepting additional septims of gratitude and a full, home-cooked meal. . With all the lumber she'd need ready to go, Akhara proved her fearsome ability to multitask in spades by doing a weekend trip to Whiterun and a lakeside vacation at the Half-Moon Mill on the western shores of Lake Ilinalta with her adopted daughter and orphan of the L'argashbur tribe, Sher'Tul. The young Orc chieftain gained an audience with Balgruuf, and Sher'Tul played with Balgruuf's three children,  Frothar, Dagny and Nelkir (she really likes Frothar, and really hates Dagny, it turns out) while the Jarl agreed to have substantial shipments of glass, stone, clay, and whatever other materials Whiterun could spare, to Akhara's plot of land in Haafingar Hold. It turns out that saving one of Skyrim's greatest cities from a dragon attack, being summoned by the Greybeards, displaying the power of the Voice, and resurrecting the Gildergreen Tree oftentimes results in a credit line with the powers that be that even a daedra would call "never-ending". . Back. And forth. All-in-all, it took a week, but it was an invaluable week during which Akhara took stock of all that she'd accomplished so far in Skyrim. Far from the constant din of hammers driving nails into planks and workmen shouting directions and orders to each other, the Orc reclined quietly against a gnarled and withered old birch and gazed out upon the scene. Nearly half of the population of Morthal had turned up to pitch in; Benor, Jorgen, and Gorm worked alongside Ogol, Garukh, and a half dozen additional Orsimmer brutes that had ridden up from Akhara's stronghold of Tharash Dol at her command to assist. . At some point midway through the week, the amount of activity in the area awoke a swamp dragon from necrotic slumber, deep beneath the lightless and rank murk of the Hjaalmarch. Fortunately, the amount of competent blades already in the area was sufficient enough to deal with the beast quickly and decisively, but news travels fast in Skyrim, and shortly thereafter, Imperial patrols along the banks of the mouth of the Karth River doubled. The commotion prompted Falion to arrive on scene, after which he promptly set to work erecting protective wards around the property to protect the work force from any further bestial immolation. . Lydia, the acting steward of Akhara's would-be estate, arrived toward the end of the week with the additional supplies from the tundra's stone quarries and the stores of Dragon's Reach. Several of the Companions as well as Farengar Secret-Fire himself were in tow, and by the very end of the week, both warrior and mage from near and far was feasting and toasting to a job swiftly and remarkably well done. But while everyone else was getting drunk on the singular largest shipment of ale ever purchased by a private citizen of Skyrim from the East Empire Trading Company, Akhara slipped into disguise and attended a completely different sort of party. . At the Thalmor Embassy, Akhara used her meteoric rise to political and economic stardom throughout Skyrim as the pretense for infiltrating the Altmer soiree and uncovering whatever information the Thalmor might have about the return of the dragons, the Blades agents they were hunting, or even the Dragonborn herself. Akhara was pleasantly surprised to find the Jarl Ravencrone in attendance, and the two talked at length about how things were finally looking up for Morthalians and about the Civil War in general. Eventually, Akhara asked the Jarl for a favor, and the old woman was more than happy to conjure a fake vision to divert the attentions of the guests of the party. Akhara Shug snuck out the back with Delphine's spy Malborn, and managed to make a speedy (if not exceedingly bloody) getaway. Unfortunately, she did not possess the answers she sought. . Akhara could no longer afford to pretend she was a nobody in Skyrim. People knew her name. The recognized her by sight on fable and gossip alone. The children of many of the Holds began to invent clever or fearsome names for her, such as "The Green Butcher" or "The Tusked Queen". She now owned property in two different holds. She had invested in the businesses of nearly a dozen of Skyrim's most reputable or well-known merchants. And she had a daughter now. . As Akhara leaned against that withered birch in the swamps north of Morthal, the realization hit her harder than any blow she'd yet weathered. For the first time in her entire life, Akhara Shug had begun to feel what it was like to matter. ===================== FOLLOW the Immersivist on Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCxdyI8ciV-p7B35K6EHxWjw

#skyrim #the elder scrolls #the immersivist #akhara #akhara shug #litpost #storypost #orc #orc female #orsimer #warchief #main character #character blog #original character #orc girls #fitness girls #strong girls #video games #roleplay #bethesdasoftworks #bethesda #lore #immersion #youtube #youtube plug

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Last Dragonborn: Would you slap the Jarl for a million septims?

Irileth, appalled: No, of course not!

Balgruuf the Greater: If you ever, I mean EVER, pass up the opportunity to win us a million septims, I will disown you right then and there.

Balgruuf the Greater: *says this as his actual children line up to slap him with the Ebony Blade for free*

#you know that's right #jarl balgruuf #balgruuf the greater #irileth #housecarl #last dragonborn #dovahkiin #oc: leara roseblade #oc: aurora orianus #nelkir #frothar #dagny #whiterun #dragonsreach #mephala #the whispering door #nerevar queue and star #incorrect quotes #incorrect elder scrolls #incorrect skyrim quotes #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #source: tumblr #hey but I'd slap anyone (except a baby cos I'm too soft) for one septim as long as that one septim is martin priest of akatosh

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Balgruuf the Greater, after Frothar drags Dagny away so she doesn't rat out Nelkir: You gotta be ready to listen to your children, even if they have nothing to say.

#🤦🏻‍♀️ #jarl balgruuf #balgruuf the greater #dagny #frothar #nelkir #brat(s) of whiterun #whiterun #dragonsreach #nerevar queue and star #incorrect quotes #incorrect elder scrolls #incorrect skyrim quotes #the elder scrolls #tes #skyrim #the elder scrolls v: skyrim #source: chicken little #source: disney

[umbracirrus]

what made you settle on balgruuf of any character? just curious

OOOH

Okay okay okay, so like, bare with me on this because this is a very good question!!!! It is in part my own judgement of his character but alskfhsajdfhasdj I'm not normal about him

He is one of the first characters that become a 'constant' in the Dragonborn's main quest. You meet him early on, you go back to him time and time again, and he is always willing to listen to you even if what you are telling/asking him is downright madness (i.e. asking him to trap a dragon).

And that is even bearing in mind that you can downright tell him that you were being executed in Helgen, he sees the bigger picture than the fact that there is a soot-ridden possible criminal on his literal doorstep, because this one person has brought him news which set into action things which in the end likely saved the lives of many of his people in Whiterun hold.

He doesn't panic when the news of the dragons reaches him, he instead takes time to think and chooses to be practical by planning and preparing and remaining vigilant until the time comes that they can be pushed back and/or killed.

Whilst Proventus and Hrongar bicker about the importance of the Dragonborn and whether you are or not, he keeps a level head and advises you on what to do (go and see the greybeards because it was them who summoned you as that was what the thunderous noise when you reentered the city was) as opposed to showering you with admiration (or being highly suspicious of you)

The Dragonborn, as part of the main quest, becomes a Thane of Whiterun. That means that you have contributed significantly to the hold of Whiterun and that he trusts you.

And speaking of trust, he gives you his axe when you become thane and giving axes is a huge sign of trust in Skyrim (and I have written a mini essay on this before, so I won't go into that all again. that post is my pride and joy lol)

And speaking of Balgruuf trusting you, his voice if you join the Stormcloaks and says that he thought better of you breaks my heard ashjkasdablkjsdhjkh- (again, see linked post about axes above because you can only do battle for whiterun after you become thane of whiterun)

Even if you ask him the most nonsensical things, he thinks rationally about it. Yes, ending the dragon menace is a good thing even if the insane has to happen to do so (aka trapping Odahviing), but if the cost of stopping it is his hold and his people, it is out of the question. His priority is keeping his people and hold safe, and by the looks of things if things were to go to shit, when weighing up the options, it being the result of dragons is preferrable over it being a result of brother against brother, friend against friend. It is also likely preferrable because of my earlier point that he is trying to be practical about the dragons and come up with plans to handle them. He does not wish to partake in the war whilst he has the option to keep clear of it.

You don't often see him interact with them, but he has his family around him! His brother and children! And even though there is a lack of interaction, there are a few little ways in which he can be seen as looking out for them. For example, Frothar likes to go around saying 'Father says I'm too young to train with a sword' and that he wants to fight in the civil war. He's trying to keep his child as far away from the danger as he can.

Admittedly, Dagny is a bit of a selfish and spoiled child... and Balgruuf contributes to that. She argues with Frothar about how Balgruuf promised her a new dress and doesn't like it when her brother calls her out on the selfishness. It's almost like he can't say no to her when his little girl wants something (and adds an extra layer to his character that you don't really see otherwise in-game!)

And Nelkir, he does worry about the boy. He knows that he is typically a quiet child, but is incredibly worried about him once he starts falling under the influence of Mephala (though obviously doesn't know that), and is worried that he is the cause of him no longer talking to him and ending up all brooding, which unwittingly he kind of is, because of the secrets he holds... such as Nelkir having a different mother to his siblings (leading to a whole other thing about their identities because you have no idea who their mothers are, were they a string of tragic romances? a result of affairs and such? there are so many unexplored opportunities there, of which I quite like the concept of two consecutive tragedies explaining why he doesn't appear to have a significant other at the time of Skyrim because of what if it happened again, no, he needs to put what he has of a family and Whiterun first), that he doesn't want to be forced out of Whiterun, that he doesn't like the Thalmor, and...

He still worships Talos! In theory against rules, something which could potentially get him into trouble or killed, but he still does it, he still gets away with it, and may be a contributing factor to the fact that there is still numerous statues of Talos in his hold, including the city of Whiterun itself, and that Heimskr is still about preaching and not in jail.

Just quickly going back to Mephala, he knows (presumably first-hand if the book found during that quest is anything to go by) about the dangers of the Ebony Blade. He and Farengar did what they could to destroy it to protect everyone in the long run, but couldn't - so they did the next best thing and tried to lock it away in a hidden/difficult to get to room and limit access to it by being the only ones to have keys. I don't think he ever anticipated one of his own children finding said door though and getting the Dragonborn involved...

Going back to the worship of Talos, that is one of (but not the only) justifications for the civil war. In the end, he sides with the Imperials which is quite interesting, given that he seems to have a rapport with Ulfric Stormcloak. Though he does mention at times that he sees good reasons for both sides. His reasoning is not completely clear(from what I can recall without loading up the game) but based on the fact that he seems to look out for his people and hold over other things (and would have preferred to remain out of the war completely), he must have deemed that siding with the Empire was less bad of an option than siding with the Stormcloaks. Perhaps he felt that would lead to more stability in the long run.

Basically, he's a loyal man who looks out for those nearest and dearest to him (even if his way of doing so is unhealthy *cough* Dagny *cough*), holds his position with pride and does what he can for his people, and there are many little nuances of his character which I really just like and makes him much more of a multi-dimensional character than quite a few others in the game. Probably could've just said that from the start hehe.

As I have said though, this is my own interpretation of his character.

Sorry if this list is very ramble-y - I've been awake for like an hour or so at this point and still haven't sufficiently caffeinated myself lol...

#skyrim #balgruuf the greater #look i just think that balgruuf needs a break and somebody to be there for him in a way that isn't tied to his duties #he needs the emotional support damn it

[umbracirrus]

As part of my regularly scheduled normality over Balgruuf, I present to you... some headcanons about him (and his family, somewhat)! In part because I've been thinking about this a lot with regard to The Perfect Storm. These are probably going to (or already have) influenced plot points in it :)

Balgruuf's children, as revealed in the quest The Whispering Door, have two different mothers - Frothar and Dagny, the older two, have the same mother, and Nelkir, the youngest, has another one. There is also nothing mentioned in-game about what happened to their mothers, and why neither are present, because Balgruuf's only other family member about is his brother Hrongar. Well... I like to think that Balgruuf truly did love the mother of Frothar and Dagny, but tragically lost her when Dagny was still a baby. But Nelkir's mother? Well, what if the reason that Nelkir was so susceptible to Mephala's influence was because his mother before him had been the previous user of the Ebony Blade? That could explain why Balgruuf is one of only two people who knew about the blade and it being locked away... he knew of what it could do and didn't want anyone else to fall to Mephala's whims. It could also explain why he doesn't seem to have a significant other at the time of the events of Skyrim... two tragic losses of the people that he loved in such a short period of time, leaving him having to juggle the responsibility of being Jarl and a single father to three very young children was likely a very difficult period of his life.

He likes to go out drinking at the Bannered Mare, as established in conversation (or rather telling off) with Irileth. He likes a traditional Nordic Mead, in particular local ones such as Honningbrew (hence why it was such a big deal in the Thieves Guild questline that he was going to have a tasting of the new Honningbrew Reserve), though can be inclined to expand out to Cyrodilic beverages such as the Surilie Brothers wines - after all, Whiterun is a key trading hub for Skyrim and likely has better access to such drinks than elsewhere. Usually though, he just prefers something a little closer to home.

This is admittedly inspired by this post, but what if the reason that Balgruuf is titled 'Balgruuf the Greater' is because his predecessor as Whiterun's Jarl (maybe another Balgruuf?) was that terrible (and likely struggling as a consequence of/in the aftermath of the Great War) that when he took the Jarl's throne his changes improved the situation in Whiterun enough to earn him the title of 'the greater'.

Balgruuf was likely in his teen/late teen/young adult years as the Great War happened (I'm inclined to believe late teens, maybe 17/18/19 as it ended) so he found the transition into not believing in Talos as a divine quite tough as he had spent his entire childhood believing in Talos. He began to silently worship Talos instead, openly expressing believe in the Eight but keeping the Ninth quiet. As a result, he turns a blind eye to Talos worship in his hold, and why he is fearful of the Thalmor and the discovery that he does still worship Talos going public (also why it takes him a while to side with the Empire?) as per Nelkir during the Whispering Door.

As much as he likes serving Whiterun as Jarl, he fondly remembers and wishes that he had some of the freedom of his younger days. However, he knows that he is looking at his past through rose-tinted glasses, and that with the current state of Skyrim and his position, it would be highly unlikely that he could do such things again.

He wants to protect his children from some of the harsher realities of life. It's why he doesn't want Frothar training with a sword, why he spoils Dagny, why he worries greatly about Nelkir when he was being influenced by Mephala. He knows that he cannot protect them forever though, but while he reasonably can, he will.

#hi my name is meg and i am absolutely normal about jarl balgruuf and think far too deep into little in-game things :)

[umbracirrus]

I see that people like posting WIPs on Wednesday, and I think that's a neat idea - so even though I've not been tagged in anything I thought I'd post part of what I have too for the Dragonborn/Balgruuf fic update I'm hoping to have done for Monday, mostly for self-motivation 😊

There was a relative calmness in Whiterun, for a change. Balgruuf had been quite surprised when Proventus told him that though there were a small handful of audiences for the morning, the rest of his day was free to tackle other matters – namely the building pile of letters and paperwork in his study. It wasn’t often that he was able to tackle some of the more intricate and long-term issues as opposed to the immediate, and that was a blessing in itself.

As such, once he had finished speaking with the usual folks who tended to want his attention for any and all minor or major squabbles, he had found himself with a few hours to spare, having chosen to wait until afternoon before retreating to his study. He could have gone to make a dent in the paperwork there and then, but the ability to simply observe the comings and goings of Dragonsreach were often quite interesting, and allowed him an opportunity to reflect on where things could be improved there – and by extension, improved in Whiterun.

After all, it was those working on his behalf in the background which made things run smoothly, not just him. A Jarl was nothing without his support.

Reliable as ever, Proventus was busy handling some of the more… tedious, repetitive tasks which would crop up. Ensuring that the books were balanced, and that the funds which were contributed to causes across the hold including the guards and maintenance were being used appropriately and as intended. He also had recently taken up the task on his behest of ensuring that a certain Jarl’s correspondences never reached the Dragonborn after everything which had happened over recent weeks (albeit without the woman in question knowing, for now.)

Irileth remained his shadow as he moved about, a constant watchful eye no matter where he ventured into the palace. Occasionally she would step away when she knew things to be more than secure, often to talk with the commander of the guard or to check in on Frothar, Dagny, and Nelkir – after all, a housecarl’s duties were not just tied to the protection of their charge, but of their kin too. He would not know how to handle harm coming to his children, especially after… well, the losses of their mothers many years earlier.

The only exception to Irileth’s responsibilities was Hrongar. And Hrongar was… very opinionated on that matter. He much preferred relying on his own capabilities to protect himself, to the point of calling himself ‘a weapon in human form’… there was simply no arguing with him on it.

#meg has done some writing #fun fact the tentative chapter title is 'how to flirt with a nord without even realising it' #like this is going to be slow burn so there is a lot of build up before a relationship is established :))))