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ervona · 9 months

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Day 1: Arcane / Beast for @tes-summer-fest

The city of Winterhold coasted on its illustrious history as capital, though it had shared that honor with quite a few cities in the province. Still, it held a charm that set it apart from the rest in the eyes of a courier who had just finished her delivery to the far-flung shrine of Azura. The mountainside view was one to behold, enjoyed by many from afar who'd come to join the work on that lofty statue. To her, the sight of moonlit stone walls called for a night out.

A gleaming eye caught her own, atop the most distinguished, towering structure in the city. Home to many a mage, such as her friend who on this day was waiting for her at the city gates rather than on College grounds. He was but a prentice, and even though he’d started learning a bit late by a naysayer’s estimate, he was bound to become a great mage someday. One could only hope.

Though not officially enrolled there, she was a scholar of sorts, as well as a courier and self-appointed investigator. Her pursuit of mystery was greater than the sum of its parts. She arranged to borrow a book on occasion in return for running the archivist’s errands, but the path to knowledge ofttimes lay elsewhere.

“Just so you know, that hermit up in the mountain told me you absolutely need levitation!" The volume of her voice sank into the surrounding snow. Only slightly dusted by it, like a sweetcake, he threw his head back in unbridled laughter.

That was how they met each time, continuing their last discussion regardless of how long it had been. Or at least, that’s how she commanded awe with her excellent memory. Usually.

“I missed you too!” His feet dangled in the air when she hugged him, repeatedly hitting her ankle. “And ah- sorry- can’t say I didn’t expect that. I haven't been neglecting my studies, either.”

“She also offered to share arcane secrets, if I-”

“Do some errands for her?” he drawled, mimicking the archivist, who'd come across as the unwitting jester of the faculty.

“No, if I leave her alone for a while. She seemed cross with me.”

Chattering friends beat chattering teeth, and they’d discussed their latest findings all the way down the path that sloped down to arguably a beach. Ancient bones distorted as in a dream were stuck in the glacial gullet of Hsaarik; less ancient ones lay half-buried in the snowdrift.

Deep below the lights of the city, falling prey to something sharp was far too easy, but the fog of breath held no fear. She took the hand offered to her aglow in purpureal light and her step became lighter still, they could skip across the water like stones.

He’d practiced his spellwork on these shores for days on end with only her in audience, a mouthful of dried fish and socks full of water. The days had been longer then, and one could get away with being sodden before a biting chill came upon them. Fortunately he had picked up a flame spell, more for need of himself than her, who braved the Old Holds with naught but skis and high spirits.

“Now, behold something a bit different.” he said when they’d stepped on frozen ground.

“You’ve finally come around to ice swimming?”

“I wish! No, no, just look.”

The spell looked similar enough to her eye, but the motion to cast it was different. Soon enough the circular shape mimicking his hands elevated his feet ever so slightly from the ground. She clapped, perhaps emboldening him too much to take a less than careful step, after which the next one sent him plummeting into waist-deep water with a wail.

Trying not to chuckle, she stepped close enough to wet her boots. She would be undressing soon anyway, thus without a care. “Could have been worse. What if I were to jump in too?”

“That’s unneeded. But thank you.” He wrung out what he could with a sigh, and she would have asked him about learning a dry warming spell if he didn't have enough on his plate already.

Once again they joined hands, in a more sodden saunter towards the next islet, a larger one they’d frequented. There lay wood ash and fishbone, remains of their last fire that the wild waves hadn’t claimed yet. Starting a new one with no delay, they sat for a while in silence, broken only by the seabirds’ cry.

The days had grown shorter, giving way to night. Masser, the roseate eye in the tapestry of stars, had seized her beating heart and now looked upon her in anticipation. She strode on the lookout for fish, drinking in the horizon that would at some point give way to the nascent sun.

In that direction, a once mighty craft cracked in twain on long since melted ice, since then picked clean by beasts and priests. They’d searched it up and down already, finding what they sought and the years had gone by until it was of little interest but a grim omen.

Strewn across sea-nooks were many such wooden carcasses, cast away at the mercy of the eponymous ghosts that only grew in number. But she couldn’t let that dishearten her. Rather she counted every golden drake, pressed until they were warm, for passage to faraway shores. Though her friend had not complained once, it was her that made their journey troublesome to plan for.

Breathing in the night air, her heart began to play the moon’s tune. Blood rushing to and fro, crawling deep into herself. Her fur was already growing in. It was crucial to disrobe and fold all her clothes into a now empty knapsack, before her shape was truly unmade and remade. She left it to her friend’s safekeeping, who also provided the perfect cover, a novice of transfiguration with a proclivity for accidents in spellcasting. It wasn’t far from the truth, and was of course her idea.

With newfound power and little care for the cold she leapt into the sea, making a grand entrance. Some fish fled, others were fearless, but her teeth snapped around them all the same, not unlike the traps that sought to capture her kind. Each time she surfaced to deposit fish on the rocks, he would look up from his little spell-circle and line them up all orderly. So began their night, with a feast.

Just a step beyond the locals’ taste, the two companions shared a liking of raw fish. It was always nice to spend time with someone who’d never cast a glance of judgment. Not even the subtle ones brimming with dignified superiority, for he didn’t have that streak in him, but she often feared the day that could change.

At the moment, she feared nothing. In her many years of life, her greatest fears as a youth had reformed into her great solace. It was no longer too much to bear. She felt only the need to delve further into the water, as the call of the forest was much the same on land and sea. Down in the brush of kelp, one could find all manner of things, even sunken treasure. The hunt raged on through the night.

When she came to, Magnus and Azura had embraced in the sky, and the treasures she’d scattered around were truly nothing to write home about. Fish scraps were stuck in her hair, not her fur, but the hair that hung over her neck now, heavy with water. Trying to balance on the ice, she was growing shaky by the moment. Ever since she’d known of herself, she would regain her merish form with the dawn.

Cold, cold, that sudden cold, was surely the worst part of these trips, fun as they were. And it wasn’t too long until she spotted a familiar figure, ever nearer as he hopped along the drift ice, brandishing her cloak like a banner. She snagged it and made quick work of her knapsack, robes and all, but in pursuit of warmth almost slipped quite a few times before she got her boots on.

To divert from such a graceless moment, she grabbed one of her sunken trinkets, a worn, blackened chip that may have once been silver and put on her best impression of the Nord merchants at the city market. “Might you be interested in an ancient Atmoran coin?”

“Just what I’m looking for!” He laughed, rolling it around in his hand. The sun at his back was but a trifle when he beamed. “I don’t mean to brag, but I may be getting the knack of this. Levitation. I’ve been practicing all night.”

“Will you whisk me away to the city, then?”

“Um, not yet. But one day, I hope!”

That she looked forward to, but another sea-walk was certainly more than adequate.

#tesfest23 #skyrim #tes #the elder scrolls #brand-shei #merris tag #oc tag #scrawling tag #need to change that but 'fic tag' isn't doing it for me #alternate time going on here and if you're able to piece it all together without prior context then i've done something right #and you too! thanks for reading and happy tesfest

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morrowalker · 3 months

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l: when i grow up, im gonna have cool skeleton ribs too g: is that so? l: and WAR scars! im gonna take over the world! everyone'll fear me g: (haha) what about me! l: you can be… my henchman! second in command!! g: im honored

#ninjago #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #garmadon ninjago #lego ninjago #how many times can i include Ninjago in a tag #scrawls #this is about the two of them being trans. but. also about like #growing into yourself as a person. inheritance. becoming your parents.#for better or for worse #who knows.

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charpim · 4 months

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tumblr user charpim posting charpim. scandalous.

#HI.#Sorry. im not immune to them #caveman scrawlings #charpim #smiling friends #[wipes the dust off of both of those tags]

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humming-fly · 1 month

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Happy to report I have finally started listening to Malevolent and to no one's surprise I am already obsessed (I'm almost done with s2 atm please don't send me spoilers yet sdlkfj)

I'll skip over my usual formality of having one normal art post before diving into shitposts let's not waste anyone's time here

#to no one's surprise the body-sharing eldrich horror buddy comedy is right up my alley #this one's been on my 'to listen' list for a long while but the stars finally aligned to make it happen #okay time to figure out how to tag this uhhh #malevolent #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #john doe #i will probably change how i draw arthur a Lot as this goes on lol but enjoy these early drafts #unlike him I had a good idea how I wanted to draw john from the get-go #though the scrawling chaotic scribbles are actually a bit tedious to do in cleaner art #the pencil comic at the end is about the easiest way to do it he's just a bit more formless there #which is only really confusing when I also want to draw the hand like in the first shitpost #if i draw anything for s2 i'll update him a wee bit though probably pretty easy to guess what #i'll be playin with it i'm sure #idfk what tags people use for these i'm not allowed to search the tag till i'm caught up #so for now these'll work!#shorthand i'll probs just use #mp #pretty sure i haven't used that before #probably #my art #doodles #comic

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illogicallyinclined · 4 months

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tragic, really x

#hematology is kicking my ASS so obviously i had to give up on studying and scrawl out a meme #roman sanders #remus sanders #cursing #but only in tags

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betweenlands · 6 months

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It takes exactly two seconds between Impulse looking up at the top of the Secret Keeper and him realizing what he's actually seeing up there to decide he is officially sick and tired of seeing ghosts.

There are seven entire ghosts around the thing today -- a couple appear to be tinkering with the secret delivery mechanisms. Impulse squints at them.

"What are you doing?" he says.

"Trying to figure out how to load more tasks into this thing," one of them replies, kicking one of the blocks with buttons on them. He's got a full beard and some weird green glowing mushrooms poking out of cracks in his face. It's definitely... a look, Impulse will give him that. Very Mycelium Resistance. "But whoever designed it used freakin' command blocks, and you can't even see the randomizer run."

"How many times did your randomizer break again?" one of the other ghosts calls from up on top of the Secret Keeper.

"Never!" the mushroom ghost protests, causing at least two other ghosts to crack up laughing. "It worked completely flawlessly except for user error."

One of the ghosts, someone who appears to have a floating cactus block for a head, snorts. "And programmer error."

"You shut it," the mushroom ghost responds.

"He's not wrong," the more normal-looking brown-haired ghost over by the command blocks says absently, purple eyes clearly focused on trying to trace the wiring back to the actual command blocks.

Impulse just stands there, bewildered -- both because the ghosts are actually talking to him, and also because these are extremely weird ghosts to be talking to who look nothing like anyone he's even vaguely heard of.

"Fine," he says, "you know what, I'll bite. Why are you guys here?"

"Checking in," a ghost sitting on one of the lower rocks says. He's wearing blue and yellow, looks to be a little more transparent than the others. "Y'know, new season and all that?"

Impulse squints at him. "No, I meant, why are you following me?"

"Ohhhh!" The ghost laughs. "Hadn't looked into what you were doing yet, and these guys wanted to see if they could get some of their tasks into the machine, so I just brought everyone along."

"That's not really a good answer," a ghost leaning inside the alcove under the Secret Keeper says. He's got a mask pulled up over his face, though his voice doesn't really sound muffled at all.

"What," the blue and yellow ghost says, "am I supposed to say something like it's because you're one of the people with no hard-and-fast thematic associations to stick to and therefore easier to facilitate a meeting with and freak him out more?"

Impulse squints harder. "Are you guys Watchers?"

The blue-and-yellow ghost snorts. "Hah! That's Martyn's lore, bud, not yours. Nope, nothing to do with the Watchers."

"Aren't you technically--" the ghost in the alcove starts.

"Tsssssshhhhhh," the other ghost replies by way of shushing him aggressively, "spoilers!"

"Alright," the alcove ghost says, spreading his hands in mock defeat, "fine, have it your way. He's right though. Not Watchers."

"Lowercase-w maybe," the brown-haired ghost still inspecting the redstone with the mushroom ghost says, "but otherwise, no."

Impulse is starting to feel like he's wandered into something way above his pay grade.

The alcove ghost snaps his fingers. Impulse notes somewhat absent-mindedly that he has, like, a lot of piercings on one ear. "Hey," he says, "come to think of it, we might be able to help you out with some stuff."

"I swear to God," another ghost says from on top of the Secret Keeper, "if you try to sell another person on your weird coffee god thing again-"

"I wasn't going to!" he responds. "Honest! I was just gonna say, it looks like there's a plains biome here, that means oxeye daisies, that means suspicious stew with regen if you can get a good source of mushrooms."

"Unfortunately," the mushroom ghost says, looking up from where he and the other ghost appear to now be trying to cram books into the ground, "the space for the hearts seems like it just kinda vanishes when people get hit. At least, if I'm not misunderstanding the programming."

"If you're misunderstanding the programming then we're both reading this code wrong," the brown-haired ghost says. "And I'm pretty sure I used something similar here for Dark Path stuff, so probably not?"

"Dang," the alcove ghost says, then tilts his head back towards Impulse. "Maybe make splash poison potions, then? That'll take out a good chunk of someone's health if they can't regen."

"He is green," the cactus-headed ghost says. "Why's he gotta make poison potions right now?"

A shrug in response. "Never hurts to prep early."

The blue-and-yellow ghost leans forward, squinting at him. "Alright," he says, "one of my wisps give you that idea or what?"

Another shrug. "I mean, what if they did?"

"Last time you started listening to his wisps," the brown-haired ghost says, "they told you to try and kill everyone just because I beefed it before the dragon fight."

"It would've worked if you hadn't warned them," the ghost in the alcove replies. "I can't believe you tried to sabotage my attempt at avenging you."

"I can't believe you listened to them in the first place," the blue-and-yellow ghost says. "They're bloodthirsty, they don't really give good advice."

"And I," Impulse says, having inched his way over towards the new task button, "am going to take my task and leave, because you guys are weird."

He hits the button and flips through the taskbook.

"End every sentence said to another player in a question?" he says, squinting down at it.

"You're already doing better than some of us were!" one of the ghosts on top of the Secret Keeper yells down.

"Oh my god, shut up!" the mushroom ghost yells back, and then turns to Impulse. "Hey, by the way, have you considered getting a pet parrot?"

"That's still a bad loophole and you know it," the blue-and-yellow ghost cuts in.

"I heard him just fine," the brown-haired ghost says. "Hey, hang on -- that's one of ours! It worked!"

Impulse decides he's not even going to bother trying to be polite about leaving. He has had entirely enough of these ghosts in particular.

#secret life #secret life smp #impulsesv #gilded hardcore #vikingpilot #this minific brought to you by: gilded is good go watch it #unlike last impulse fic i will not bother with a pretense of it being symbolism. this one is fully because it is funny to me #there's SOME stuff in there if you squint but it doesn't actually have anything to do with impulse #anyway sorting tags time:#yt #txt #solar scraps #solar scrawls #slsmp #gilded #you may have noticed i tagged the blue and yellow ghost. this is because i fear no man. or pronoun stealer for that matter #oh dunk wait i should also tag the others #devonsdesk #thefoolnse #avidmc #and then whimzee and trog are in the background (sorry guys i didn't have the voices down yet)#oh and fun fact about this one. the identity of one of these ghosts is Really Questionable #like just a little bit... it could be him acting weird or it could be something else entirely yknow? something more aware of certain things #but ehhhhhhhhhhhnnnn that's spoilers so who am i to blow up its spot #update josh got a new username so #codeneon

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trejean · 10 months

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#rat scrawlings #higurashi #i'm reading matsuribayashi and i hate him more and more every second. genuinely a loathsome little freak #removed character tags bc i've already had one person asking why i hate him and i'm hoping removing his name will help mitigate that

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patchworkgargoyle · 9 months

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Okay, Sav, my first instinct was of course to demand more motw just because I am already so fucking invested BUT then I thought I'd rather ask about "Shark Bite Meet-Cute" just because WTF are you coming up with here???? I need to know!

Hi Sandy!! xD That one was inspired by a rant that I thought I would go on if I ever got bit by a shark (highly unlikely) and survived, and then I figured Eddie would say something similar, then thought that it'd be very funny if paramedic!Steve was there trying to help Eddie while he ranted about how it wasn't the shark's fault for biting him.

Not sure if I'll ever finish this one, because I did that thing where I skipped ahead and wrote the scene I wanted to write and that's always the best way to get me to never finish a fic, so. Whoops.

Anyway, here's that rant xD

"It's not the shark's fault!" Eddie shouted as loud as he could manage at the crowd. "Sharks are still great! It's their ocean, we're the invaders!"

"Eddie, please calm down, oh my god," Chrissy said, following the stretcher and wringing her hands.

The unfairly hot paramedic nodded down at him. "You should try to keep your heart rate down, and please lie still."

He doubted his heart could be any kind of normal around this man, but Eddie lowered his voice anyway as they lifted him into the ambulance. "It's true, though, man. They can't help that they don't have hands."

The other paramedic couldn't hold back a snort and the hot one raised an unimpressed brow at her. "He's probably feeling loopy from the shock and adrenaline," he explained to Chrissy.

"No, nonono, you don't get it," Eddie blundered on, only slightly slurred, "they don't have hands, y'know, so they use their mouths to figure out what they're seeing. Like babies, or archeologists. Did you know archeologists lick rocks to tell if they're rocks or bone? It's because bone sticks, it's more porous. So, sharks. Can't help it if they've got some fuckin' sharp teeth. Probably thought I was a weird seal, took a bite and didn't like how my gamey, non-blubbery stick leg tasted."

Chrissy, who'd sat on the bench in the back, hid her face to try and stifle her laughter while he rambled. Hot Paramedic had the prettiest, most baffled smile on his face while he hooked Eddie up to some wires and monitors and the other one actually looked thoughtful while she checked the bandages on his leg.

"I didn't know that about archeologists," she said.

Hot Paramedic sighed. "Don't encourage him, Robin."

"Hey, if it keeps him conscious."

#wip tag game #sidekick-hero #thank you sandy!! xD #steddie #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #snippet #sav scrawls stuff

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newttxt · 2 years

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my scribbly thoughts on hubert von fire emblem

#fire emblem #fe3h #hubert #not tagging the others sorry dkfkdkdk #this is some of the worst art ive scrawled #but also the BEST teeny ferdie #win some lose some

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loquaxleemons · 8 days

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Jade Supremacy

She's cool and I think she should be muscular and chubby. She's so beautiful. I love women! I love self made girlboss :)))

#loquāx scrawls #kinitopet #kinito pet #kinito #kinitopet game #jade the jellyfish #jade kinitopet #idk how to #idk how to tag this actually-#my art #yippie

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fooltofancy · 2 months

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hey so this is kind of dumb, but my partner and i are getting fantasy hitched on friday (23 feb, 7pm central standard, which i THINK is -6GMT but also i haven't checked so take that with a grain of salt), so if you find yourself on primal with nothing to do on a friday evening and would like to come to the wedding of misters grimm beans and baby mode (probably for tax purposes), lmk and i'll hook you up with an invite.

edit: forgot we're on leviathan hskdfjf

#this is deeply unserious #u receive a scrap of parchment with a badly drawn piece of cake and a date scrawled on it with no other explanation #no pressure obviously lmao #uh.#baby mode blogging #for tagging purposes #the plan will probably be to show up like ten minutes early with invites available idk logistics across worlds funky and im a lil dumb #that seems the easiest

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ervona · 9 months

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Day 5: Forgotten / Devotion for @tes-summer-fest

Once there was a tower, a twisted thing with winding corridors and roots sunken deep into the ground. It had stood in its place for ages longer than many now abandoned ruins, and it was alive. The master wizard liked his tea bitter, his stew warm, his estate orderly and his patients content. He kept busy, shrouded in mystery, far from power struggles and political squabbles, making few enemies in his long lifetime. In the end, his greatest enemy turned out to be himself.

Before the great calamity, Vvardenfell was teeming with wildlife in grasslands and ashlands alike. Each day marked their struggle for life, which mer deemed as survival of the strongest. One ought to know that a nix-hound was no match for a kagouti, such a spindly thing in comparison. But when a pack of nixes descended together, they could best the mightiest kagouti and leave nothing but bones.

All creatures wished to survive, and some of them even wove secret arts through intricate magics to further lengthen their lives, but that didn’t necessarily keep them safe from harm. The tower would outlive its maker, and in turn make good use of him.

On the highest spire of spores was a mer clad in bone and brass. Having just unmade her maker, one could guess that she was distraught. In truth she was taking in the morning air, like a newly hatched kwama's first breath. Once, twice, she clicked her feet and her magic boots soared. Unlike how netch would float high with an innate sense of limits, for the time she was lighter than air and they helped to weigh her down.

So high above one could see the whole island, from other towers to castles of stone, black sand and green plains and rivers of fire, and at the very heart of it the corprus-spitting mountain. She thought of the woman who’d last visited them looking for the cure, grumbling under her breath in the tongue of that old friend Vistha-Kai.

Perhaps that floe in the sea of her normalcy had come to note when the patient survived, impatient and insistent that she had a god to kill for what he’d done to her. The tides of inevitable change came for all. For all the effort to remember her parting words, she could not.

Four sisters scattered to the four winds and set out for the sights they’d been sure to never see. One wished to look for ways to aid the afflicted alongside an old friend, another wished to have the world sing and dance to her tunes, and yet another wished to make a name for herself in the circles of noble mer.

One was floating ever still, with no particular devotion for anything, so she stayed and pored over the ancient tomes and artifacts left in her keep. She’d never been alone before, it hadn’t been allowed, so she used the quiet to think upon who she even was on her own.

When calamities struck one by one, she found it difficult to care. Unfortunately, her tower was dying, and she had little interest to maintain it further rather than let the cycle of decay and growth finally be. Let the elements take it, the undercroft swallow it and monsters claim the treasures.

Of herself she made a falling star, and she saw Azura from stone standing strong as ever while the eruption clouds choked in ash her whole world. And she laughed, though out of breath. Goodbye tower and sand and plain, goodbye shimmering coast kissed by an impassive Prince, goodbye Vvardenfell. Goodbye sisters, whom the winds took to where their hearts pointed, may the sun shine on you.

She had never gotten to visit the ruins of old that dotted the landscape, nor seen the snow fall like ash as it did in the north of Telvannis. When she stood on the highest peak of the Velothi Mountains, she had no doubt about journeying further westward to find her place. So she found herself a mountain, and bone-weary from her travels, fell into a deep slumber.

Ah, no, not quite. But that was certainly how it felt when she awoke one day to the sight of a statue–grand one by the looks of it–being built almost in her courtyard. Soon enough she would have pilgrims and busybodies all over her peaceful, frozen mountain and the home she’d made for herself in its forgotten corridors. She was of course fuming like an alchemist’s attic, more vexed than she'd been in so long, having almost put her temper behind her.

Rather than simply let them disturb her peace, she would come to them first. Winterhold–which had stood for ages longer than she’d known, cared or moved into its vicinity–was a city of mages, and they were awfully curious. These fools could be content with aught that sounded like arcane knowledge, but she would teach them lessons that they’d never forget, if they survived where she sent them.

Once again came a heavy knock on her door. “I have a letter for the wizard Fyr… not sure who from,” the courier’s voice came in muffled, but the howling wind was as sharp as ever.

“Give it over,” she said, then rushed the poor thing inside, if only for a moment of respite. Must have been truly devoted to her work, to come all the way up here. But word traveled even faster. How did she even find her, was the question. “Do you know who I am, girl?”

“I… think you are very old and you come from Morrowind. I’d love to visit it someday. And you were of House Telvanni, correct?”

The courier left after having poked her with more questions, but she’d begun to tolerate this. She’d never been alone before, and now she was the wizard Fyr. As far as they were concerned, the only one that ever was and ever will be. Still, she burned the letter unopened.

It took another great calamity to strike her home for her to stir once more. Something in her had sought company for so long, but she’d never expected to find it where she had, to find herself sitting at the foot of the shrine as a habit, supping with its last remaining keeper.

“More tea, Alfe?”

“What? Ah, and more honey. Thank you.”

“You are going to use up all my stock,” she tutted, but mixed in the honey ever still.

“But you don’t mind, right?” Alfe slunk to her side on her fur bedroll. It was no position to drink in, but she liked to tempt fate. After all, fate had led her to the strangest places.

“Certainly not! There are but two of us here.”

Aranea Ienith was by her own account a strange mer, but she was no stranger than herself. The path of sorcery taking a sharp turn into monastic life must not have been so rare, though she didn’t know enough people to tell. She was only strange in that she remained assured Azura had a plan for her yet to be revealed, even after everything that had transpired.

The sea had never stopped hungering for the land, and in years uncounted after her move to Mount Anthor, the raging waves had devoured half of the city below. Winterhold had been a passing interest, rarely a necessity, but to Aranea it’d been much more. This image of Azura was just as uncaring as the one back home had been, looking upon what remained with silent acceptance.

Alfe simply wished that she could offer what her Prince didn’t, and so she did, for they ate and drank and even laughed together despite it all. They discussed at length the lost art of spellcraft while cleaning up the snow piled on the shrine's entrance that so few ever visited.

On the coldest nights made warmer by her presence, she thought of an old book of Aldmeri ballads that she’d left to rot, illuminating what she was feeling and decided to keep close to her chest. She was not the Nerevarine–wherever that woman was now–to contest with gods.

Ofttimes she wondered if they’d met before, somewhere on her rare outings to Sadrith Mora, and it had slipped their minds like so many moments of their long lives best left behind. She was sure she’d seen Aranea before, the same copper hair framing a silver face, only younger, as she had been. It mattered little in the here and now.

Their lives had grown entwined like the roots of old trees, and the priestess' striking devotion was her own now. Not necessarily for the Lady of Twilight, but for each dusk and dawn spent together, for the promise of tomorrow that neither of them would have to face alone.

Thus the tale of Alfe Fyr went on, and would go on for quite some time. As for her sisters, one might wonder, had they each found their place under the sun? Theirs were tales for another time, but rest assured that they lived and prospered, and may yet live to this day.

#tesfest23 #tes #the elder scrolls #morrowind #skyrim #alfe fyr #aranea ienith #merry if you squint. she's there #also the nerevarine. all women special chapter #no cw necessary for this despite the characters #aaand we're back sorry for the delay #scrawling tag #tes legends #i forgot to specify that because i've talked about it before. alfe on mount anthor is from that game!

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morrowalker · 5 months

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