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Hist tree and Argonian village in Coldharbour
Art for Tales of Tamriel
Art by Jan Pospisil
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smorgasbort · 5 months
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Got a little wacky with this theory.
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blkice64-blog · 12 days
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Our love 💕
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archipithecus · 9 months
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tag yourself
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scotianostra · 5 months
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On December 5th 1560 King Francis II of France, the husband of Mary Queen of Scots, died.
Although not crowned it has to be remembered that Francis was also King consort of Scotland.
Francis was born on 19 January 1544, the eldest son of Henry II of France and Catherine de Medici, he was named for his grandfather, King Francis I.
When Francis was four years old, the Scots and French signed the Treaty of Haddington in July 1548 arranging the betrothal of Mary Queen of Scots and the dauphin Francis in return for French aid to expel the invading English. Mary Queen of Scots sailed from Dumbarton for France in the August of 1548 when she was but five years old. The young Queen was accompanied by her four Marys, the daughters of Scottish noble families, Mary Beaton, Mary Seton, Mary Fleming and Mary Livingston.
Mary spent the rest of her childhood at the court of her father-in-law, Henri II Her father-in-law, Henry II of France wrote 'from the very first day they met, my son and she got on as well together as if they had known each other for a long time'. Mary was a pretty child and brought up in the same nursery as her future husband and his siblings, became very attached to him. She corresponded regularly Mary of Guise , who remained in Scotland to rule as regent for her daughter. Much of her early life was spent at Château de Chambord. She was educated at the French court learning French, Latin, Greek, Spanish and Italian and enjoyed falconry, needlework, poetry, prose, horse riding and playing musical instruments.
Mary was the cosseted darling of the French court, the doting Henri II wrote 'The little Queen of Scots is the most perfect child I have ever seen.' He corresponded frequently with Mary of Guise, expressing his delight in his young daughter-in-law. Mary's maternal grandmother, Antoinette of Guise, in a letter to her daughter in Scotland, stated that she found Mary ' very pretty, graceful and self assured.'
Francis and Mary were married with spectacular pageantry and magnificence in the cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris, by the Cardinal Archbishop of Rouen, in the presence of Henry II, Queen Catherine de' Medici and a glittering throng of cardinals and nobles. The French courtier Pierre de Brantôme described Mary as ‘a hundred times more beautiful than a goddess of heaven … her person alone was worth a kingdom.’
Among the wedding guests was one, James Hepburn Earl of Bothwell. Francis was fourteen and Mary fifteen at the time, Francis then held the title King consort of Scotland until his death.
When Henri II was killed during a jousting contest, incidentally by Gabriel de Lorges, Comte de Montgomery, Captain of The Scots Guard, and a descendant of Alexander Montgomerie of Auchterhouse, Mary's young husband Francois ascended the throne. Francis was reported to have found the crown of France so heavy that the nobles were obliged to hold it in place for him.
The young Francis became a tool of Mary's maternal relations, the ambitious Guise family, who seized the chance for power and hoped to crush the Huguenots in France. The Huguenot leader, Louis de Bourbon, prince de Condé plotted the conspiracy of Amboise in March 1560, an abortive coup d'etat in which Huguenots surrounded the Château of Amboise and attempted to seize the King. The conspiracy was savagely put down, and its failure led to increase the power of the Guises. This alarmed the king 's mother, Catherine de Medici, who reacted by attempting to secure the appointment of the moderate Michel de L'Hospital as chancellor.
During the autumn of 1560 François became increasingly ill, and died from the complications of an ear condition, in Orléans, Loiret. Since the marriage had borne no children, the French throne passed to his 10-year-old brother, Charles IX. Mary was said to be grief-stricken Multiple diseases have been suggested as the cause of Francis' death, such as mastoiditis, meningitis, or otitis exacerbated into an abscess. Francis was buried in the Basilica of St Denis.
There was no place for the seventeen year old Mary, Queen of Scots in France, she prepared to return to her native Scotland with an uncertain future that would hold.
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uesp · 2 years
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"It smelled like flowers and black earth. It tasted like rain and summer wind and the deepest green."
--The Dunmer Biiril describing Hist Sap.
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Confession: I wish I had my own hist tree. I would commune constantly
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girlblogging9 · 1 year
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gameguy20100 · 10 months
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My favorite thing about Oblivion Crisis from Elder Scrolls is that two nations that were "the best" at defending themselves from invading Daedric Armies were Redguards and Argonians. Even more, latter were even casually doing counter-invasions into Oblivion (Elder Scrolls's equivalent to HELL) everytime Daedric portal opened in Black Marsh
Yeah, I love that bit of lore.
The Hist basically turned Argonians into the Deadra's worst nightmare. They even started closing portals because fucking hell those lizards are mean!
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protoindoeuropean · 2 years
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my favourite manner of royal succession (aside from the obvious choice, abolition ofc – be it voluntary or guillotinous) is substitution-made-permanent
which we have one record of, from the 19th century BCE (about a century before the infamous Ea-naṣir and his subpar copper), when a king of the Isin dynasty that appears towards the end of the Sumerian King List, Erra-imittī, was succeeded by Enlil-bāni, a gardener that he crowned himself
this comes from my favourite ritual from the ancient world, the ritual of the substitute king. you see, when an omen predicted that the king was in danger, a servant would be chosen to take his place – the substitute would be given the crown, dressed in royal attire, live in the palace and be treated as king for the duration of the danger not only by the (other) servants/subjects, but hopefully (crucially!) also by the gods. after the danger passed, the real king returned and if the gods hadn't taken care of him already, the substitute was ritually slaughtered
Erra-imittī is notable because once he placed the crown on the substitute, Enlil-bāni, a gardener from the royal palace, he went on to choke on some hot porridge and dropped dead. clearly, the gods saw through Erra-imittī's ruse. by way of this "gastronomic mishap" Enlil-bāni simply did not return the crown and continued to rule for another 24 years
*because of some inconsistencies in the different versions of the SKL in this part, it is also possible that this is a secondary explanation for the break in dynastic succession, invented later to legitimize an usurper's taking of the throne. but even if this is the case, the fact remains that this was then apparently a conceivable, plausible scenario
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aladaylessecondblog · 8 months
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Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Female Dunmer Nerevarine (Elder Scrolls), Im-Kilaya (Elder Scrolls), Various Argonians, Two Different Nerevarines, Azura (Elder Scrolls), The Hist (Elder Scrolls), Vivec (Elder Scrolls) Additional Tags: Screw Destiny, The Daedric Princes Being Assholes (Elder Scrolls), This started as an ai voiced series on youtube, Late Night Writing, Writing what I want, Crack Treated Seriously Series: Part 3 of Altered Amaranth Summary:
The previous Nerevarine passed birthing the next, who grows up in the Argonian Mission in Ebonheart. It was happy enough an upbringing, though despite the Argonians' best effort she still feels as though she is missing something.
At thirteen, Haj-deek is told who she is, and why her mother left her in the care of the Argonian Mission. She is given both the journal of her mother and the moon-and-star ring. She slips the ring on, the memories return...and she realizes that while she DOES have a family, it is her destiny to destroy them.
The Queen of Dawn and Dusk should really have known better.
At sixteen, Haj-deek is ready to approach Red Mountain.
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I figured I’d continue posting the series here since this place is why I decided to turn this into an Ao3 fic in the first place. Now we’re actually getting into the current Nerevarine’s time in the sun. :)
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Chapter One
Prologue III - Vivec, Haj-deek
Vivec
The quest panel, or journal rather, had been empty for some time; though he was glad he had written it all down before it had been wiped.
The Ordinators had attacked the Nerevarine, and brought the report of her getting away back to him. It was rather too late for scolding them but he did it anyway--saying that he wished to see if the Nerevarine could be made to see sense, as it would be more beneficial to them as a whole. They had apologized, kept looking, but after seeing her on the road near Vivec City, lost track of her.
He still couldn't teleport her to his location, nor could he discover at what coordinates she might be found. It was more than a little frustrating--what good was the console if he could not use it to better things? Certainly items would be handy, but the ability to alter people's courses would be better.
There had been one little quest completed, some sort of note delivery--in Ebonheart. What, he wondered, had she been doing there, after visiting Red Mountain? Perhaps looking for a place to rest and recover for another attempt at defeating Dagoth Ur...or perhaps she was looking to flee.
As for him, he had had no luck with Sotha Sil.
He had stated he was committing himself to the construction of the mechanical heart. Nothing could be more important, considering the situation with the heart of Lorkhan, and Dagoth Ur. If even a fraction of their power could be restored, it might give them the edge that they needed. Vivec advised him about Almalexia's increasing instability, and warned him that he may wish to take that into consideration going forward.
The man had only agreed, and gone back to his projects.
Vivec had not even bothered to attempt speaking to Almalexia. While some of Sotha Sil's habits changed, Almalexia remained unseen, hiding away in her temple, as dedicated to punishing the "unfaithful" as she ever had been in the first instance of this timeline.
He didn't understand it. It was clear the Gift had affected everyone--why would she not choose differently? But the more he mused on it the more obvious the answer became. The ability to choose different did not mean that one would choose differently.
Am I really to do this on my own? he wondered, I am perfectly capable of guiding things for the better, but still...it would be nice to have help.
His mind went back to the Nerevarine. The quest panel still hadn't updated, but on a hunch he began to (via the console) look through the list of books available for spawning. The usual variety were there, but there were a variety of new ones, too.
Let's see, the journal said that Nerevarine's name was Sadara, so perhaps...
Filtering by Morrowind, and then by city, he eventually found what he was looking for.
Sadara's Journal
How, he wondered, had he not thought to try this before?
After a short console command, the leatherbound book was in his hands. Its entries seemed normal at first--it started in Seyda Neen, then went to Balmora as the quest panel indicated. It was the quest journal, but with a more personal touch. Reasonably similar, too...until until she went to Red Mountain.
So when he admonished me for coming unprepared, I asked that he at least speak to his old friend, for there was much I wanted to know. And as he was an enemy of the Tribunal, he would surely surely be honest with me. I thought he would say no, but in his stony yet hopeful way he replied, "I would be happy to grant you that before our battle. What do you want to know?"
Vivec had nearly dropped the journal in shock.
He hadn't anticipated that. He'd known the Gift would alter people, but for Dagoth Ur to be affected, too? That he had NOT expected, and as he turned the page in haste, several fell out from further forward in the journal. He reached down to pick them up, and though he would look over them later, the passages he initially saw on each one as he picked them up would stick most firmly in his mind ever after.
His body is as warm as the living, yet his heart does not beat.
...intoxicating...act of worship...
...where he lives, my heart is also, but each day I fear Azura's wrath...
...called me a siren...other half, missing before, now whole......
One last time...
Vivec skimmed over the most egregiously heated parts. He couldn't say that it surprised him, to find that a Nerevarine would...fall...in this way. Was it not said that the Sharmat wooed as a lover? If there were any one on whom the attempt would be made, it would be the Nerevarine...so long as they were a Dunmer, of course.
He read the journal through. So she HAD gone to Ebonheart, as he'd suspected. And given what he had seen of Sadara's repeated attempts to deliver freed slaves there, he supposed it only made sense that she would ask sanctuary of the Argonians.
She wrote of her pregnancy, but it was not until Ukawei's entry that he realized the importance of it.
The room was silent save for the mewlings of the babe and I saw the mark of her lineage upon her tiny wrist. A glimmering ring, the moon and star, had been slipped onto her delicate skin.
The child was the next Nerevarine.
...we have named the child Haj-deek...
Vivec could hardly believe his luck. A babe. A literal infant, newly born, burdened with the prophecy. He even had her name!
He had all that he needed now, and as he looked down at the name again, a new thought entered his head.
Almalexia still pursued her previous course. Sotha Sil might fare better due to being forewarned, but how well he would do remained to be seen.
Dagoth Ur SEEMED more changeable than Almalexia, but it was best to operate on the assumption that no change would be possible from him.
At the very least, Vivec thought, I can bring the Nerevarine to my side. I can afford to be patient.
In that matter, at least. As far as the "House of the Emperor," however...
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*13 years later, Sun's Dusk 3E 423, Haj-Deek*
By the time she entered the Mission, it was obvious that Im-Kilaya had heard her coming.
"What is that terrible noise?" he asked. A second later he'd turned to look, and his head moved down in apparent exasperation. "Haj-deek..."
In the girl's arms was a cliffracer, probably a juvenile from the size of it. One of its wings was being held at an odd angle, and every step she took jarred it, causing the high-pitched outcry that every traveler was familiar with.
"It was injured!" Haj-deek called out, "What was I supposed to do, leave it there?"
"Yes," Im-Kilaya replied, "That is exactly what you were supposed to do. First of all, it's a wild animal, secondly, it could have any number of diseases, and thirdly, in this state it's even more likely to attack you than usual. You--"
"It's not diseased, but I can't get sick anyway. And I COULDN'T leave it," she huffed. "I'll let it go after but I'm going to heal it."
Again there was an outcry from the cliffracer, as Haj-deek sat down with it. Despite the obvious pain it was in, it curled close against her, and made a whining sound.
As she lay her hand over the injured wing, Im-Kilaya spoke again, and more softly.
"Where did you find it? A hunter's trap?"
"No, it was on the ground, dragging the wing. I didn't see any wounds on the outside, so...I think it tried to attack someone, and got hit with a club or something."
He said nothing else, merely watched as the wing moved back up, and the cliffracer flapped it rapidly. She looked up, thinking it would try to fly about the room, but after a few more moments it seemed to settle down.
"It must be ill," An-Deesei said, suddenly entering the room, "That is unnatural behavior for such a creature."
Haj-deek didn't listen to her, merely gave a little smile at the cliffracer. She reached up to pet at its head with her free hand and it made a curiously soft sound.
They hate you, she thought, Everyone does. But you're just an animal, doing animal things. You can't help it.
Behind her, she could half-hear Im-Kilaya and An-Deesei talking, though she pretended as if she couldn't.
"...the Hist says now..." Im-Kilaya said in a quiet tone, "...why, I do not know. It seems too early."
"Not our place to judge," An-Deesei replied, and lowered her voice, "...importance of it?"
As Haj-Deek moved to the table, with the cliffracer now settled comfortably on her lap, the two Argonians finally approached her again.
"You know," Im-Kilaya spoke first, "How you always asked us about your mother, and we said that we would tell you everything when the time came...when you were older?"
She didn't respond right away.
They wouldn't say much, other than her mother loved her, and wanted her kept safe. Safe from what, she had always wondered? The Tribunal? She had a feeling that was it, because Im-Kilaya and the others had told her not to speak to any Temple priests if she could help it. Not that that was much of a risk in Ebonheart since there wasn't really a Temple presence. There was an Imperial chapel, and...
A feeling stirred in her gut.
Im-Kilaya would give her a single drop of Hist Sap every now and then, saying it could be dangerous for a non-Argonian to have more than that. And while she had much, much less of a connection to the Hist than they did, the link was still there. And every so often...she would get a feeling she was sure was the Hist, trying to speak to her. An instinct, telling her something would be a good or a bad idea.
An-Deesei had left the room, but soon reappeared, carrying a leather journal, and a little bag along with it. Both were handed to her. The book she lay on the table, and she felt at the bag--a ring? Was there a ring in there?
"This is your mother's journal," Im-Kilaya said, "It will explain everything. And in this bag is your mother's ring."
"There are other things," An-Deesei added, "She kept some weapons and artifacts, but those you won't need just yet."
The book first, the feeling sparked in her gut, so intensely that she could do nothing but obey it, Read the book first, before even touching the bag.
She opened the book, petting again at the cliffracer as it started to move about in her lap.
This is the last journal of Sadara, sometimes called the Nerevarine...
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10paintingseachmonth · 11 months
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John Frederick Kensett (American), Sunset on the sea, 1872
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hatscomic · 10 months
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The Hist part 2
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babyfurylove · 2 years
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#imperioromano #roma #historia #a #romanempire #rome #italia #history #italy #hist #ria #n #espa #imperio #spqr #o #travel #romanos #spain #arqueologia #imp #antiguaroma #historiaderoma #art #arte #turismo #photography #ancientrome #s #romaantiga https://www.instagram.com/p/ChX-jcGpY7Q/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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scotianostra · 1 year
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Preston Mercat Cross.
Admire a beautiful 1600s market cross – the only surviving monument of its type on its original site.
Preston Market Cross was erected in 1617 to serve as the focus of the bustling town of Preston, although it has now become an isolated roadside monument.
At ground level is a drum of masonry, within which is a space that would have served as the town gaol. Above this is a platform, from which proclamations would have been issued. The cross shaft rises from the centre of this platform.
Dating from the early part of the 17th-century, the township of Preston was granted permission to hold a weekly market and annual fair. As a part of this prestigious distinction, the township was honored with a market cross. 
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uesp · 2 years
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Did You Know: According to Argonian folklore the Mangroves of Black Marsh used to be giant spiders that earned the wrath of the Hist? As punishment, the Hist transformed them into their current arboreal form.
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