#which sheogorath cannot and does not help with

[ehlnofay]

Pax should have said no.

Damn it all, they should have said no. Should have said go to hell and fucked off back – stop contacting me, sort out your own shit – but they didn’t, fuck knows why, and now they’re stuck here.

(They know why. They know exactly why; absolutely anything would be better than fucking off back to Cyrodiil. What’s for them there?)

But there’s nothing worth staying for here either, and now she’s crammed in between strangers on a long table, everyone dressed in fabrics she’s never seen with dyes so saturated they seem almost gory, eating stuff that isn’t food and talking loud enough to make her want to hurl a glass into the wall. It’s bizarre. The woman next to her, ruddy-faced and bald, wears a headpiece that shines like the sun the Isles doesn’t have; the other side is taken up by a stranger in a bone-white porcelain mask who has not moved but to swill the wine around in their glass. There’s scarcely room for Pax’s chair. It all feels like such a baffling pantomime of aristocracy (she's known the real thing well enough – feasts and toasts and luxurious gifts she had no use for, and if she doesn’t stop thinking about it she actually will throw a glass), bright colours and rich settings and a god taking offerings at the head of the table.

At least, Pax thinks, no-one tries to talk to him; they’re too busy fawning over their lord. Which is probably to be expected; but it all feels so strange, so unsettling, the way they all lean in towards it like flowers turning to face the sun, like seaweed dragged at by the inescapable pull of the tides. They grow towards it through the cracks in the air, matter moving toward the inevitable centre, as if they can imagine nothing more than this.

(Even more unsettling is the way it responds in kind, listening attentively to anyone who speaks to it, leaning in as though to kiss them, as though to swallow them whole. All hell, why did Pax agree to this? Why did they come?)

(They should have told it to fuck off. Should have said no way, I don’t want to help you, don’t want to get involved in anything you’d need my help for. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m done.)

(Pax is done. Pax is sick to death of all this shit; doesn’t want to deal with this, the vaguely described problems of a god that picks people apart like it’s unravelling a thick yarn shawl. Doesn’t want to deal with anything like this. He’s had his fill of gods.)

(Why is he still fucking here? Why did he agree to this? This is no better than eating in that weird fucking inn in town. This is no better than –)

(That’s a lie. It’s a bit better than Cyrodiil. Just as much a shithole, but it pulls the rug out from under him often enough that he doesn’t have time to think too much.)

“Not hungry?” says a prowling voice, coiling catlike into the plaits in their hair, and Pax jumps enough to jostle the masked bastard sitting ramrod straight next to him.

He looks up.

At the empty placemat across from him sits a figure veiled in gossamer, glittering in the glow of the lit-up lichen on the distant throne; the fabric of its endless shawls pulls apart at the ends, peeling away from itself, shedding patches like iridescent insect wings every time it shifts. If Pax squints, they can see through it to the grand marbled wall behind.

She glances back at the chair at the head of the table, where something lounges, eyes dripping gold, intricately carved cane laid across its knees; its too-many fingers are laced with the hand of a man whose gown blooms floral. Flatly, she says, “What the fuck?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sheogorath asks, pouting; she can hear it laughing down the other end of the table. “It’s a proper feast. We pulled out all the stops.”

Pax shifts their eyes away to peer down at their plate. “You have served me worms,” she says. She flicks the dish with a fingernail. “In jelly. With flowers.”

“Larva, actually,” Sheogorath replies. It’s still at the other end of the table. It doesn’t seem eager to explain this. When it smiles, the gossamer falls away; its whole face splits in half.

It’s all so fucking stupid. Pax takes a deep breath – in through the nose, ignore all the odd spiced smells, and out – and does not yell at it, or try to hit it, because she’s gotten herself into a situation where that’s not really an option, because she’s a fucking idiot. Why didn’t she just say no?

(She knows why.)

The Mad God’s teeth flash bright as the ornate silver cutlery. Its chair scrapes back from the table. “It melts in your mouth,” it tells her, eyes glittering, “but I won’t make you try it. Walk with me?”

The figure still sits at the head of the table, snatching something from someone’s plate, always, always laughing. Its limbs sprawl like tentacles, like the silken threads of a tapestry, to encompass the whole room. The dinner guests stare as though bewitched, bedevilled, beguiled. Not one of them is looking at Pax. If he were to drop dead with his face in the food his corpse would not be discovered until sunrise.

Pax sniffs and shoves his chair back from the table. He lets Sheogorath (the second Sheogorath – but it must be, what else could it be?) lead him through a narrow door into some winding hallway, the walls lined and rimed with ornate coloured-glass windows. (It’s so much quieter. Still as garishly bright, but Pax is getting the sense that that is inescapable, here; the clothes they wear, as crumpled and covered in travelling-grime as ever and startlingly out of place against the odd jagged finery of the dinner party, seem unimaginably dull in comparison. Everything seems unimaginably dull in comparison.) Outside the windows, they can catch glimpses of the city – its winding, lamp-lit streets, the jumbled mess of its architecture, the sky arcing above it like a child’s attempt at watercolours. Pax wants to smash it, tear it down.

There’s no sun here, but still it’s night. The sky has shifted to purple and black.

“Isn’t it nice?” says their companion; when they look back, it’s nothing more than a shifting impression in the stained-glass window, a series of hairline cracks. It still manages, somehow, to smile at them.

It’s not. The sky is a shadow and the flamboyance of the palace is scraping at their spine. “Sure,” Pax says flatly. When she flexes her fingers, the bruising staining the base knuckle of her thumb aches.

Sheogorath looks at her – an ancient man leaning on a stick, a flickering painting, a bloody corpse, a little girl in velvet-red skirts, a breath. In its mercurial shifting she catches the flowery blossom of the man at the table’s collar, an unpleasant glimpse of her own braided hair, the smell of sulphur. It tips its head. She can’t focus on it anywhere but for the eyes.

“You don’t like my dinner parties,” it announces, as though it’s a revelation, a tragedy; its body crumbles like sea cliffs slowly eroded by the ways. It’s annoying – bloody obnoxious, and incomprehensible, and kind of weird that it noticed, that it would even care. (She’s never liked dinner parties. Nobody ever commented on it before.)

I’ve had well enough of them, Pax could say, or no, I don’t like you, but it’s the fucking Mad God, Daedric Prince of – Pax doesn’t even know what, he’s never known much about this shit, only that it’s well worth avoiding. Prince of the mad and the missing and the foolish, of breaking and breaking and putting yourself back together backwards. She should have said no, but she didn’t, and who knows what would happen if she went back on that now?

It's slinking closer. All that stay static enough to make out are eyes and teeth.

“Pax, yes?” it says, soft-voiced – a hand lands on his arm, small and dry and shivering, the skin as thing as a mouldering leaf. “You have no obligations here. If you want to be on your own, be on your own. We’ve plenty of space for it.”

Pax’s eyes narrow. He does not jerk away from it.

In the light of the coloured sky, the coloured windows, its face is phantasmagorical. “If you don’t want to be here,” it continues – still so skin-pricklingly gentle – “then your hand will not be forced. I’ll speed your way home if you wish.”

They can’t help but twitch at that. It’s setting their teeth on edge. (It’s lying – has to be. After its ages of coaxing them in, meting out information, not telling them where they were until they were on its doorstep, it would not give them the chance to leave.) Rough, still covered in road-grime, Pax asks, “Why should I believe you?”

(None of them have ever given them the chance to leave.)

Sheogorath, a figure of hollow skin and bone, inclines its head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Pax,” it says. Its eyes are wide and bulging, whites on full display like a frightened horse; it grins again. “Others might. But we’re not a monolith. We’re not even especially similar.”

Pax bites down on the flat edge of their tongue. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The light coming in through the windows flickers. The Mad God turns to meet it.

“I’m the youngest,” it says, its voice glittering like mist on the air. “Did you know that? I don’t remember the world without you in it.” Its form spasms, volatile, wings and limbs and eyes like a snail’s on stalks sprouting and choking and subsiding back into its mass. “I’m closer to you than any. I understand, almost.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Pax repeats. She’s gritting her teeth, tonguing at her gums where two are missing. Are two devil-gods not enough to deal with for a lifetime? Is there really going to be more of this now, too?

Rolling through the air like smoke, the voice says, “It will.”

Pax presses purple-green knuckles to her mouth. Her teeth dig into the soft meat of her lip.

Sheogorath turns to face her, hair moving as though blown by the wind, as though tugged by the tides. It sighs. “You don’t believe me,” it says. Its tongue pokes through its teeth. “That’s perfectly fine. Clever, even. But if you want to leave, all you need to do is tell me so.” It pauses, then; the train of its strange, gnarled crown shifts over its shoulders when it moves its head. “Or just leave. The door is still open.”

“You’d be fine with me just leaving,” Pax rasps around his knuckle, “after weeks of not leaving me alone?”

(Of begging him to come, poorly-hidden agitation giving way to blatant franticness, half-swallowing the fear that choked its face in every mirror it spoke to him through. Of begging him still, after he got here, after he met it – begging in a roundabout manner, casual as anything, its every motion reeking of fear. Its abject terror when he turned to leave. You’ve come this far. Why not hear an old man out? Pax told it that it wasn’t an old man, that he didn’t give a shit either way, and it slid through a child, a monster, a sulphur-burned body coughing blood, his own shuddering form in armour he hasn’t seen in months, and it said please.)

(Regained its composure, its gentleman’s face, immediately afterward. But it – the Mad God, unknowable, inconsolable – said please. Pax still doesn’t know what to do with that.)

The Mad God, now, shrugs. Taps at the hairline cracks in the stained glass windows. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” it says, one pair of hands braiding something intricate into its beard. The hand on the glass slips down. “I told you. I do need a champion.”

“And I told you,” Pax bites, something aching and ugly surging in their gut, “not to call me that again.”

A smile, bloody-mouthed and beaming. “But we will abide,” says Sheogorath, and digs its fingers into the cracks of the stone. One brick slides loose, mortar dug up under its nails. It offers it up.

Pax licks their teeth and takes it.

The brick shivers, momentarily – crumbles, in their hand, like sand slithering through their fingers, and left in their palm is a hardy slip of bone. Spiked and sprawling, carved with intricate patterns; it arranges itself around an oval of empty space, the perfect size for four sharp-knuckled fingers.

“You can always leave,” the Mad God tells them, and for a moment it does look so very young and strangely, staggeringly hopeful. “But give it a chance. I think you could love the Isles, if you choose to.”

#for context - in my version of events sheogorath's recruitment of the HoK is a lot more active #it needs someone who can fulfill the metaphysical niche of the hero. it needs someone experienced enough that they might not even die tryin #and it needs someone desperate enough to take the deal #pax is fifteen years old has alienated everything that maybe could have been a support system and is grieving very badly. #perfect mantling material!! #so sheogorath pursued them very specifically and was very judicious about what they revealed when. which is why pax already has some kind o #relationship with it here - they've interacted before - in that for weeks pax's reflection has been constantly begging them to 'visit' #writing the interactions of these guys is a lot of fun because there is always so much sheogorath is keeping from pax. it is #extremely strategic in how it presents itself #and pax falls for it hook line and sinker. though we can't really blame them #it's hard to outsmart something that's in your head #and at this point pax is pretty much made up of their worst impulses #which sheogorath cannot and does not help with #see: this piece #“I would NEVER make you do something you don't want to do <3 if you'd like to go back to your miserable self-destructive hellscape that's #YOUR CHOICE. but wouldn't it be more fun to be regular destructive here... i made you brass knuckles... 🥺“ #im obsessed with them #the elder scrolls #tesblr #tes #my writing #fay writes #oc tag #pax #oblivion #shivering isles #the shivering isles

[trickstarbrave]

Hello! I am here to inform you that I would happily read a 10 page essay about Alduin's Bane. Spoilers are a highlight. Your Elder Scrolls lore is incredible and I am frothing at the mouth for more.

oh man now i have decision paralysis i have so much to talk about given the fic is over 150k (somehow. i cant believe i wrote that much) uhhhhhh im just gonna give some bullet points of what i can think of

>originally was going to just be a oneshot centered around the past that would have been the first 3-ish chapters but i liked it so much i had continued it

>hell i had debated actually naming eyja or not for a while lol

>originally fengr wasn't going to be in the story, but i actually liked him the more i thought about him. he is supposed to be the archtypical box art "dragonborn" bethesda markets (except two handed weapons instead of dual wielding). i thought he made a good foil and could help drive some of the character development and give eyja more to connect her to the world and also because i wanted to use him as a foil for another character

>i did intend for sheogorath to be the champion of cyrodiil. not everyone agrees with this theory but i liked it. i also hope i did a better job making the quest more interesting. i was really proud of connecting the weird, seemingly disjointed dream world quests to our main character's psyche and problems rather than being just a cheap joke

>i also LOVE sanguine if you couldn't tell. writing him was some of my favorite stuff. genuine chaos and debauchery. he technically had the right idea

>i had a big plan in mind for a side plot where The Gang currently (fengr, serana, eyja, alduin) run into cicero and the listener who were tasked with assassinating the dragonborn and instead ask for their help to take down astrid who they know is planning on turning on them. this was going to lead to a full blown assassination of the current emperor, but for the life of me i couldn't think of a satisfactory way to connect the plot to the rest of the story without feeling like i was forcing a block through a circular hole so it has been indefinitely tabled. if it makes it back in the story then it does but so far i'm not planning on it. but if you're wondering what happened to our dear little jester he is off helping rebuild the dark brotherhood with his wood elf listener

>in my fic to be mentioned later alduin actually got so angry he ripped off solstheim as a provide from mainland skyrim and flung it off into the ocean during a big ass battle

>i remember some ppl saying alduin could be akin to shiva. whether or not you like this idea or think it is credible i was a lil inspired by the myths of sati and parvati in the loosest of ways

>im still very proud that i made bleakfalls barrow originally designed and built to be eyja's tomb. in functions VERY much as a tutorial dungeon in many aspects with like blatant plot hooks in the form of the dragon stone and word wall that we just dont see in other tombs. not to mention it is very large and in your face, something you expect to be of bigger importance, and delphine wanted the dragon stone for some unexplained reason, so. head dragon priest's tomb it is. but alduin wouldn't actually let her be buried there, which only lead to credence to the mainstream belief that konahrik had defected or betrayed alduin and he had killed her in a rage.

>how she got the mask i just realized i never explained. basically my bullshit reason was she owns the mask. the mask was sealed off to wait for a new owner if one ever came, and then was lost to time. dragon priests arent really supposed to "die" in my telling of events so she got the mask by wandering in and it opened up for her assuming she was the original owner here to claim it. it does not do this for literally anyone else

>alduin kind of fucking sucked at sex. i hint at this in several ways but in their first lifetime he just fucking sucked at it. i cannot fully stress how just bad and clumsy he was. this immortal dragon god of the end of time was a complete virgin and it showed. if it wasn't for the fact he was a god she adored i dont think eyja would have put up with it. but luckily she taught him better.

>they were together i estimate in the ballpark of 60 years prior to her being killed. a very fun time for the people of skyrim given alduin wasnt randomly flying overhead to munch on them

>i wanna work more on serana and alduin's dynamic bc i think it is very funny. she's gotten over her panic into just normal rational fear and questioning her sanity of "wait the actual dragon god??? thats who im traveling with????"

>as far as dragon priests knew it was an open secret eyja and alduin were fucking. the general public didnt know but most of the priests knew. and most of the dragons but they were more confused by the concept of actually having sex which seemed weird in general

actual big spoilers under the cut for people who dont wanna see:

>fengr is, in the next little mini arc we're about to do with curing lycanthrope, about to be revealed as also a dragonborn. i like to imagine that was akatosh's back up plan or something. i wont reveal all of what the revelation entails to keep that fun and exciting

>also to be mentioned: molag bal has beef with alduin and eyja because her mask is actually made of daedric ivory. alduin went "i need a cooler material for her mask to be made out of" and went all the way to a realm of oblivion to kill one of molag bal's big ass daedra. this has lead to much of molag bal's beef with dragons

>several members of the thalmor were investigating the masks (this is canon) and took a particular interest in both eyja's and the time traveling unnamed mask. this wooden mask alduin had made in hopes it could bring eyja back (it failed)

>back to the sati and parvati myths uhhhh part of that has translated to miraak and his motivations. i hope you didn't have "miraak is past life eyja's ex" on your bingo card because you will not be able to check that off. miraak was her father.

>in that regard i had to think a lot about how having kids would be handled by dragon priests. i dont see miraak actually raising any children he had, and he probably had a variety of concubines and wives to sleep with as i imagine most of the other dragon priests did, but no time to actually get attached. so she probably only had some status and little interactions with him prior to this, but boy was miraak mad he couldnt just use her influence for his own gain. idk if i will get to mention all this part in my fic lol

>finding out one of his kids actually inherited his abilities led him down the path to trying to understand what dragonborn were. he thought he was a strange, special existence, but finding out there were more people like him made him wanna find out how they worked. this also invariably led to him experimenting on several of eyja's multitude of half siblings that died prior to him getting his hands on her. also prob wont get to mention all this in the fic

>in this vein i had the idea to make vahlok eyja's other parent but i didn't think it did much for the story so. i might go in the way of "helpful mentor" or just that he didnt fucking suck

#i will add more as i think of them i just got off my work break #alduin #my fic #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfic #eyja

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Martin x Hero of Kvatch Headcanons and Stuff (feat. Avarenya)

Ship name: Martenya

Avarenya does not shut up. She grew up being told to be quiet ("A lady is seen, not heard"), and that habit kicked it when she ran away to the Imperial City. So now she thinks out loud more than Ed Sheeran! She gets herself into a lot of otherwise perfectly avoidable situations this way. Including going to jail and meeting the old Emperor. Just another Fredas night.

(Don't think I'm recounting the main quest. This is just as random as Avy's thought patterns)

Martin is Avy's impulse control. Which . . . doesn't always work since he's constantly asking her to go do very high-risk (for impulsiveness) things.

They constantly reference The Vacation to each other. The Vacation is a hypothetical holiday they'll take to Valenwood when the Oblivion Crisis is over. Avarenya wants locally sourced tropical fruit, Martin has never been to the beach in his freaking life, and they both need a nap.

Their conversations about The Vacation are typically nonverbal with many hand movements and occasional random statements. At this point Jauffre is too afraid to question them, concerned both the Emperor and and Hero of Kvatch have been touched by Sheogorath

nota bene: Avarenya does not mantle Sheogorath. Why? She has an older brother, Oromis, who's very important in the Mages Guild. Very serious know-it-all stuff. While his only sister is playing warfare with one Daedric Prince, he gets sent to investigate the one Oblivion Gate that doesn't look like any of the others and — oops, he's Sheogorath now. Ouch.

Sheo!Oromis isn't going to touch his sister (unless it's to pet that overexcitable brain of hers like a puppy) but he'd totally yeet Martin off the Hill of Suicides.

Martenya have no idea that freaking Sheogorath is sometimes stalking them.

But that's pretty heavy actually so let's put it back in the drawer and ignore it.

Avarenya is taller than Martin. Noticably. By like five inches. Ironically, at 6'3", Avy is considered below average height for the Altmeri aristocracy!

After retrieving the Sanguine Rose for Martin to use for the portal to Paradise, Avarenya invested in what's called the Sanguine Roast. She landblasts that sucker. Unfortunately, it has not dissuaded the Prince of Sex and Drums and Rock-'n'-roll from wanting in her tight leather pants.

Martin isn't comfortable sending Avy into constant danger, but he can't help but love it everytime she leaves. Leather pants, y'all.

Any bread these wackos touched turns into cornbread from the amount of corny energy they give off. They're radioactive with it.

Martin only calls Avy by her full name when it's serious. Notable occurrences include: Miscarcand, the Great Gate, Paradise, and the Temple of the One. Amung others.

. . . or, "Five Times He Called Her By Her Name, and One Time He Didn't Have To"

I cannot stress enough that Avy can and will just jump (stumble, slip, slide, meander) into a situation, while Martin's back there telling her "wait, no, don't do that" because that's how she ended up in the middle of a bloody sacrifice party with the Dagon cultists. Please.

Martin is the sun. Avy is literal sunshine. 🥺☀️ S'like the nicer version of the fingers and talons of the Black Hand.

Avy will make friends with anyone, if she can. But Farwil Indarys and that little Bosmer guy from the Arena try her patience. She is actually legit friends with Glarthir though.

. . . she does feel intimidated by Countess Carvain. Which makes . . . no sense because the Countess has always been polite, if not nice, to Avarenya AND she agrees to Martin's plan, so Avy doesn't know what's up there.

Oh Avy, so sweet but so internally paranoid from her upbringing, her subconscious convincing her that MartinxNarina is somehow endgame while her waking mind has no freaking clue! 😆

Avarenya/Martin/Narina political love triangle anyone?

Martin likes tea a lot, but Avy keeps bringing him imported coffee beans everytime she returns from southern Cyrodiil. He may have an addiction now.

Avarenya and Martin actually met once in Skingrad when they were kids. Martin was ten, Avy was nineteen (which is basically still a kid to Altmer). She got lost while her father was visiting his older brother during a summer festival. Little Marty and Avy ended up sharing watermelon taffy and unleashing a pen of sheep onto unsuspecting bystanders. It was lit. 😎

Avarenya has had to drag Martin to bed and tuck him in several times. She's only boinked his head less than half that number!

Growing up in a tropical environment, Avy gets cold very easily. Martin will go out of his way to get her a blanket when she comes in shivering from her latest quest.

In a modern AU, they'd totally have a meet cute/coffee shop story: Martin is a tired counselor burnt out on the wrong in humanity, Avy's a tired grad student burnt out on making coffee, and . . . Oh wait, it's a little depressing now. Hurt/comfort, anyone?

When they first kiss, they're on the battlements. Nearing midnight, both moons are waning and the shadows are heavy. They're cold by themselves and the air around them is colder still, but together, Martin and Avarenya are warm. Burning, like dragonfire.

Do I indulge in the overused trope of Skyrim's Last Dragonborn being descended from Martin? Uh, yeah! I like that trope. And anyway, I was thirteen when I made Leara Rose-blade . . . which is why she's Martenya's granddaughter when she should've been their great granddaughter. #writerproblems

It didn't take long for Martin to warm up to Avy after leaving Kvatch. She's a friendly sunshine personality and did her best to help him through the looming existential crisis of being the heir. She also shared her sweetrolls with him this one time.

Avarenya would totally be behind a whole Wandavision AU where she brings back Martin and they live in a magic fairy tale village bubble with mindless yesmen and their twin children. Baurus would definitely be Monica. Just picture it!

I love Martenya AUs, okay?

#some martinxhok for you thirsty people #martenya #martin septim #oc: avarenya #hero of kvatch #dragonheart #original characters #the elder scrolls #tes #oblivion #the elder scrolls iv: oblivion #tes au #Sheogorath #oc: oromis #oc: leara roseblade #baurus #jauffre

[tuitionofwinterhold]

I just got here and know nothing about your Oc's yet, please tell me about the knife wielding alfiq 🥺

kiza is part of, what my bf n i call, the forgotten-name-gang (called this because we...kept forgetting their names when we made them lol) or alternatively "pelinal nightmare squad"

selnims half altmer (on his das side) and half dunmer (on his mas side) and he is the shittiest lich you can possibly imagine. when he transferred his soul into a jar which may or may not contain also his mothers remains it shattered his brain into about a gazillion pieces so now hes..like that. he remembers nothing about who he was or what the world around him is like but he DOES know he is the most powerful motherfucker not alive and he cannot die (disclaimer: neither of these are true. probably.) he smells like a corpse because he is a corpse. kiza hates him.

dridyn (technically not my oc- hes my bfs) is "blessed" by sheogorath bc his parents were part of a sheo worshipping cult. shitty old man wont leave him alone for more than 5 minutes.

he helped dridyn escape thalmor prison by turning all the guards eyes into pearls :) prison that he was in because sheo decided to gift him the moons (like, the literal moons. shrunk down to palm size.) as a graduation present.

i dont know how kiza has mehrunes razor yet but she is um. a worshipper of sorts. of mr dagon.. shes not particularly bad at magic- she can use it if she has to, but shes not asinterested in shooting things with fire so much as she is with stabbing them. she met dridyn in skyrim while searching for someone, ANYONE, who would be willing to train an alfiq in melee combat. shes still searching. shes travelling with the boys still because, well she kind of enjoys dridyns company and they both make...intersting...meat shields.

when dridyn first met her he was convinced she was a lady that sheo stuck into the body of a housecat for funsies- he had no idea what an alfiq was let alone where elseweyr was on a map. selnim just thinks all cats can talk.

 she talks like this

tdlr

#selnim #dridyn #kiza #LONG POST ..... #thank u 4 caring about my ocs lol #<3 <3 #edit: idk why my keyboard copied smth earlier in the paragraph somewhere else #i keep fixing my typoes in this. oopsies #my art #ocs

[the-tharns-speak]

What is the general reaction towards mental illnesses in Tamriel? Are there specific restoration mages dedicated to such treatments and therapy?

I know it's more than a little ironic to ask you this, considering your spouse.

-Little Galerion

Mental illness. That is... a difficult question, especially because we don’t know what exactly it is. Sure, the definition is “not being sound of mind” but what is just a slight deviation from the norm like a crooked nose in a face, what is actually unsound of mind, and what is just scarring from a difficult experience? There are cases which we recognize. There are cases in which we... do not.

Given that lack of mental and physical health both are associated with Daedric Princes and the Daedric Princes are not well regarded in nearly all of Tamriel (with the notable exception of Reach, partly Wrothgar, and whatever is the relationship the Dunmer have with the Corners of the House of Trouble), you would find it hard to find positive view on any mental deviation.

It is a thing that I had occasionally discussed with Eustaar, my friend and classmate in Battlespire, who was, and still is, a Clockwork Apostle. The Apostles differentiate between two types of “not default” mental states, wherein the rest of Nirn lumps them all into one bag; those being mental afflictions and mental divergence.

Mental divergences are something you are practically born with and it fundamentally changes the way you perceive and interact with the world. For the Apostles it is just another perspective and as long as it does not have a negative impact on one’s life, they leave it to its own course and are mindful that every person might need certain adjustments, such as being reminded to take breaks or have specific orders in which books are ordered because otherwise that detail bugs them too much to work. Others, like chronic melancholy and exhaustion are treated with potions which supplement or suppress inner machinations of the body and brain which affect the mind; honestly I understood that part poorly, and I suspect that Eustaar understood it even less. He did begin each of those discussions with the disclaimer that he doesn’t know almost anything about the alienists and their work, as he’s never aspired to be one.

Mental afflictions are far simpler to describe and notice: they come later in life due to an injury, illness or traumatic event. Their treatment varies from directed talks with one of the alienists (somehow along the lines “Would you like to talk about it?”), potions to prolonged stay at the Asylum Sanctorium, which is the alienists’ hospice.

In the rest of the world, you just have to live with it. If you are one of the lucky few, your mental affliction or divergence doesn’t show and besides you and perhaps your closest family will never know. Otherwise you are often perceived as cursed by the gods or chosen by Sheogorath, which is not a good thing even within Sheogorath’s cults, because it means your fellow cultists are very likely to kill you in a very imaginative way. The rest of the people will simply shun you and ignore you or perhaps throw rocks at you. You might have a “correct” affliction/divergence and know a discreet apothecary who might supply you with medicine to suppress your symptoms for a payment. This medicine is usually sedatives, because sleeping and unconscious people cannot be sick, or outright drugs, because we do love to fight fire with fire.

As far as I know there is no restoration specialization regarding mental health, and not even any spells which would be to actually alleviate the problem. The closest you might get are religious orders, usually priests of Mara or Stendarr, who help those afflicted by war, soldiers and civilians alike. One of their services is helping to overcome the warfare trauma. They success rate in this regard is somewhere around 19 %. Which is to say the highest in Tamriel (excluding the Clockwork City which is one-perhaps-god-knows-where).

#c: abnur tharn #the mystery answered #mental health #Little Galerion #the Apostles are probably onto something #They could share?

[madam-whim]

So I decided to try my hand at actually writing something that is not just a headcanon list and here it is! It’s based on @sweetrolls-and-draugr’s post about bards playing a tamrielic version of Jenny of Oldstones while Sheogorath dances through Cloud Ruler Temple. This is my first attempt at writing fanfic in English, which is not my first language, so there will probably be mistakes. Feel free to point them out so I can fix them!  The Dragonborn in this one can be whoever you want them to be, but Sheogorath is based on my own HoK, Arri. Oh, and it also turns out I am utterly hopeless as a bard. You have been warned!

____________________________________________________

Dances Among The Clouds

Winter in Bruma is always an uncomfortable affair. It’s too close to the Jeralls, too close to the bitter cold of Skyrim. The Nords don’t mind all that much – they are used to the harsh climate, but no one else ventures outside unless they have no other choice. This goes for Jovian as well, especially with the blizzard outside not showing any signs of letting up. There are worse fates than being trapped inside a tavern, though. He is a bard after all, even if he’s just playing for the owner’s child at the moment, keeping them distracted from the howling of the wind. Children are so easily scared, he knows, but this one, at least, seems to enjoy his songs.

“What’s this one about?”, they ask from their spot on one of the tables as soon as he starts playing again, brown eyes fixed on his hands. Jovian smiles. They’re good with melodies, and they ask about the song whenever it’s one they don’t recognize. “Well, it’s a sad one”, he replies. “I’m not sure you’ll even like it.” “But you’re going to sing it to me anyway! So tell me!”, they pout. He sighs fondly. “If you insist... I don’t know the whole story myself, you see, because this song is hundreds of years old.” The bard watches their eyes light up with interest. “Really?”, they ask. Jovian nods. “It’s sung in Bruma every year, near the end of Evening Star, because that’s when the lady who inspired it appears. She’s a ghost, I think, of a woman who lost her love. Do you know the ruined temple in the mountains above the city? You can see it on a clear day.” The child nods. “The one where the Blades used to live, right?” “Right”, Jovian says. “That’s where she’s appeared every year ever since the Oblivion Crisis ended.” “What’s an oblivion crisis?”, the child asks. They still seem interested, Jovian notes. That one’s definitely not a future innkeeper. “That’s a very long story, little one. It was a war between us mortals and a Daedric prince, and we won. Maybe I’ll tell you more when you’re a bit older. Anyway, my guess would be that this lady lost someone, and when she died as well, she became a ghost and began haunting the temple. There are several songs like that all over Cyrodiil, you know. The Imperial City has one too, and so does Kvatch.” “That’s a lot of ghosts”, the child says, frowning. “Will you sing that song to me now? Even if it’s sad. I want to hear about the lady.” Jovian smiles. “As you wish, little one.” He picks up his lute and starts playing again.

She dances among the clouds each year Her eyes the color of amber To a song that only she can hear When the closing of gates we remember

In robes of purple and gold she’s dressed Her pain they could not be masking Through day and night she’ll never rest As she pays no mind to time’s passing

And when you ask why she is dancing She’ll say she forgot how to weep And when you ask why she is mourning She’ll say her dearest was not hers to keep

The one that she loved, he haunts her still For every room holds a memory She cannot forget and never will Forevermore she remains lonely

And when you ask why she is dancing She’ll say she forgot how to weep And when you ask why she is mourning She’ll say her dearest was not hers to keep

Oh, if you ask why she is mourning She’ll say the dragon was not hers to keep

Many years later, trying to escape from the mind of a mad emperor, the Dragonborn remembers the song.

Sheogorath started rambling almost as soon as they got here, and then they made the mistake of interrupting him. But they can’t help it, when Sheogorath describes Martin Septim’s sacrifice, him turning into the avatar of Akatosh, as ‘hardly sporting’, so they blurt out “Hardly sporting? He saved Tamriel!” They know they’ve made a mistake right away, and they instantly back away, because Sheogorath is... angry, and changing, and something he wasn’t a moment ago. “Hardly sporting indeed”, he hisses, “Because he didn’t even give me a chance to stop him, and then he was gone and dead and he left me and I died too, but then again, I can’t really die and I wanted to -”

And as Sheogorath’s voice rises, the man fades away, and in his place is a woman in a dress of purple and gold, with red hair and eyes like amber, and she’s staring at the Dragonborn, looking like she wants to cry. But the Dragonborn knows with absolute certainty that she can’t, because she forgot how to cry, is no longer human enough to know how to do it, and they wonder if old Jovian is still alive, and if they’ll ever get to tell him that the ghost wasn’t a ghost at all.

Carefully, they take a step closer to the... Madgod? They’re no longer sure who Sheogorath really is. “I’m sorry”, they whisper, because they’re not sure what else to say. “Truly.” “I can’t even dance anymore”, Sheogorath mutters. “They ruined it. They took Cloud Ruler from me, and now the good memories are fading and I...” She trails off, the anger slowly draining from her, and as the anger fades, so does the woman, and within a few moments, the other Sheogorath returns. “Sorry about that one”, he says, as if nothing had happened. As if the Dragonborn hadn’t just found out what became of the Hero of Kvatch, who was presumed dead after vanishing from the Imperial City, and who is dying, yet cannot die. “She still gets out sometimes”, the Madgod continues. “One of the nastier side effects of someone else being you, I suppose. I wouldn’t speak to poor Sanguine for years because of her, too, can you believe it? Years! Now, where were we?”

The Dragonborn leaves the mind of Pelagius Septim III. with the Wabbajack in hand. They are certain they will never have reason to use it, but if they keep it next to the small shrine to Akatosh they have built in their home, well... nobody needs to know.

#oblivion #my writing #sheogorath #hok arri #martin septim #ldb #and a random bard i just made up because i felt like it #long post

[patentlyabsurdrpgideas]

Lovecraftian Horror: Do’s & Don’ts

So, I was on @pwbi​‘s Discord, when someone posted a picture of a drawing of a fossil giant fish and it got called an Eldritch Abomination. This makes me feel angry and so it’s time for the Patently Absurd Guide to Incomprehensible Horror.

Eldritch Abomination is the generic term for a monster hearkening back to Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, but it has become so overused that TV Tropes at one point infamously called the titular witch’s ghost in Scooby Doo and the Witch’s Ghost an Eldritch Abomination.

So, in the name of helping pop culture (or at least D&D) understand what it really means, there are a few key points I have identified, and if you’re lacking more than one then you generally don’t have an Eldritch Abomination.

Unfathomable Form: This is what everyone immediately thinks of. Unfortunately, because Lovecraft’s work popularized the trope and his breakout star is Cthulhu, everyone thinks you can add tentacles and you’re done. NO. Cthulhu is low-key a bitch in Lovecraft’s own work. He’s just a squid head, a man’s body, and bat wings.

Unfathomable Form means that whatever you are looking at is unfathomable - it’s not just that you don’t understand it, it’s that you can’t. We all crack jokes about game glitches - but imagine if one of those happened in real life.

“Ha ha ha! His ass is clipping through his face while he floats towards me... wait I’m not playing GMod right now!”

But how about we take something less seemingly silly. How about color? Most human eyes are sensitive to 3 wavelengths of light, resulting in the spectrum of colors we all know and love.

But let’s consider the mantis shrimp. Their eyes are sensitive to 12 wavelengths of light. Try imagining and adding 9 additional impossible colors to the rainbow. You cannot do it because you cannot fathom something you have no frame of reference for. You literally can’t understand the world as seen by the mantis shrimp, and that’s a real animal!

Incomprehensible Motives: Let’s talk about one of my other favorite franchises for a moment: The Elder Scrolls. Most people would probably expect me to cite Hermaeus Mora as an eldritch abomination, but he fails this particular test. Old Mora simply craves knowledge. He’s curious, and that is an inherently very human motive. But do you know which Daedric Prince does pass this test?

Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness. Because contrary to how he’s portrayed in-game, he’s not the Daedric Prince of “Ooh Shiny” he is the Daedric Prince of Madness - ALL forms of insanity at. The. Same. Time.

Have you ever been depressed? How about manic? Are you bored? Excited? He is all of those things and so many more at every moment of his entire existence. That is a state of mind that is literally incomprehensible to any human and we didn’t even have to start making up entirely new feelings.

Some people will comment with the “Blue and Orange Morality” trope, and that’s a fair analogy, but it still falls flat, because most of the time the moral compass being pained blue and orange is not incomprehensible, just different from our own.

Impossible Origins: Lovecraft codified this with his description of the Star Spawn, Cthulhu’s posse. The Elder Things - basically starfish aliens - look weird to humans, but are made of the same mundane matter. The Star Spawn and Cthulhu himself are made of some kind of matter but not the matter native to our universe. It has inherently different properties from ordinary matter that look like magic weirdness from a scientific perspective, strongly implied to be why Cthulhu’s face regenerates when a boat plows through it.

That ain’t regeneration, just what the stuff he’s made of does.

Hermaeus Mora flunked the motives test, but he passes this one with flying colors. He is reputedly made of concepts discarded during the creation of the Elder Scrolls universe as incompatible with the fundamental basis of reality. He is quite literally made of concepts that cannot exist. Perhaps something like a sharp sphere? Perhaps that’s too close to comprehensible to be one of them.

Bonus Criterion - Cosmic Insignificance: A lot of Lovecraft’s work hasn’t aged well, and not just because of the racism. His works simply don’t inspire fear. But to be fair, they’re not really aimed at creating fear, but at a sort of existential despair.

In the universe of the Cthulhu Mythos, humanity is nothing special. Everything we think we know about the universe is wrong. Physics is fundamentally different than what we believe. And on top of that, gods exist, but they aren’t any of the gods we’ve ever believed in, and these gods don’t really give a damn about our existence one way or another. Morality and religion are just lies we tell ourselves so that we can sleep better at night.

The Cthulhu Mythos is essentially a pessimist’s view of nihilism, and that’s why I’m making it a bonus category rather than a fundamental one. Nothing in the original works written by Lovecraft himself has an inherent “madness aura��� like you see in D&D. In the works of Lovecraft, people go mad because they find out that everything they believe in is made up and wrong and they don’t cope well.

Except... most of us Millennials and the generations coming after us are also pretty nihilistic. The Boomers are ruining the world and we have no future to look forward to, so we’ve decided to enjoy life while we can using what little we have.

Lovecraft looked into the Abyss, and when the Abyss looked back it terrified him. My generation seems to have collectively looked into the Abyss, and when it looked back we decided to wave.

#Patently Absurd #RPG Idea #Tabletop Gaming #Roleplay #Worldbuilding #Bestiary #D&D #DnD #Fantasy #Fantasy RPG #TTRPG #Tabletop RPG #Pathfinder #Pathfinder RPG #Roleplayer #Roleplaying #DM #GM #Dungeon Master #Game Master #Philosophy

[nightingaletrash]

Hi! I am rather new to modding Oblivion and I was wondering if there is any mods you would recommend for it? Or maybe just your mod list, if you are comfortable with sharing that? Your Oblivion characters always look so beautiful, especially Iriana. Anyway, I hope you having a wonderful day! :)

It’s ironic you ask Nonnie, considering I’m wrestling with Oblivion myself and failing atm XD

Still, I’m happy to drop some recommendations for mods I use and can usually get to cooperate with me ^-^

First off, you’ll want the Official Oblivion Patch, the Unofficial Oblivion Patch, the Unofficial Shivering Isles Patch, and the Unofficial Oblivion DLC Patches (if you have the GOTY edition). They fix a bunch of issues in the game, and some mods require them to be installed, so they’re a solid place to start.

The rest are under the cut because boy this got long o.o

Character Creation:

I cannot recommend Nuska’s Oblivion Character Overhaul enough. It’s an absolute must have for me as it deals with Oblivion’s potato faces beautifully. And, thanks to the hard work of other modders, it is possible to customise OCO further. I’ll list those in just a second. You’ll also need the Oblivion Script Extender and Blockhead to get it to work.

I also use the HGEC Female Body for my OCs - if you use that mod or any other body mods, there are some additional files provided by Nuska that make OCO compatible with them. They’re located in the optional files for OCO, and the description for those will tell you what order you need to install them in.

Now, my other OCO Mods that I recommend:

Orsimer Overhaul for OCOv2 - merges OCO and Orsimer Overhaul for a look I personally love for orc characters. It can be a little hit and miss with getting it to work on my end, so you’ll need to decide if you want to have a go at wrestling with it, but I personally think it’s worth a try

OCOv2 Martin and Adoring Fan Fix - I’m not a huge fan of OCO’s take on Martin, so I prefer this one even though it makes him look a bit too young imo

Unique Face Features for OCOv2 - Adds some warpaints, scars, freckles, and other kinds of face markings to the cc. iirc they’re tweaked with the age slider

Warpaint for OCOv2 - adds some more Skyrim warpaints 

Seamless for OCOv2 - removes the very visible neckseam on characters. Whether or not I can get this one to work is usually hit and miss for me ^^”

New Brows for OCOv2 - exactly what it says on the tin ;)

New Eyes for OCOv2 - new eye texture replacements, along with some optional files to customise them a little

Better Necks for OCOv2 - adds some detailing to the neck and throat of the character model. Not a requirement ofc, I’m just a sucker for detail

OCOv2 Male Beard - adds some actual beards to the cc

Hairstyle mods can vary in quality, and some only come available as wigs. I only use a couple myself. 

Sidenote, wigs tend to make your characters look like they have no ears so you’ll need a mod that adds equip-able ears - I’ll have one recommended further down.

ANiceOakTree’s Hairstyles for Oblivion is a mod that adds hairs as wigs. There’s a few styles in different colours, and it’s the one I use for Iriana. You create your character with whatever hair, it doesn’t matter, and then travel to either Vilverin, which is the Ayleid Ruin literally opposite the Sewer Exit after you finish the tutorial, or in the Cheydinhal Chapel near the doors.I usually tend to go to Vilverin, as it’s closer for me and the chest is literally down the stairs from the entrance, plus it counts as stealing from the chapel so I’d recommend the ruin if you’d rather not get in trouble for wanting nice hair.

Zinni_s Braided Redguard Expanded is good if you plan to play as a Redguard and would like a braided style. It’s added to the cc, so you don’t need to go looking for it ^^

Chakaru Wigs 2.0 is a bit trickier. You need to access the Testing Hall in order to find them, and I can’t remember exactly which room they’re in. They’re located in a chest directly opposite the door, however, so it narrows the search a little. If I get to the point where Oblivion is cooperating with me, I’ll add the location here.In order to access the Testing Hall, open the console and type ‘coc testing hall’ (if that doesn’t work try removing the space between testing and hall, I forget which is the correct way), and then in the centre of the main room, find the door labelled Hawkhaven, go through it, and fast travel to return to Cyrodiil.

I’ve not used the Cazy Hair Pack in some time now, but it’s still worth a mention. It adds some new hairs to the cc, so no looking around ruins and testing halls to find them ^^

Armour and Clothing

Ordinarily I would never download Apachii Goddess Store, but it is where I get Iriana’s ears. On the ground floor, there’s a container full of equip-able ears you can take free of charge, and iirc they match to your character’s skintone.

Belphe’s Travelling Gear (the female version) is another mod I wouldn’t usually use, but it looks surprisingly good on Iriana sooooo. There’s a few mods on this page you can try out if you’re interested, but I have no idea how to install the ones without esp files, so I can’t help you if you want any of those.

This is my favourite remodel of the Archmage Robes (I could do without the titty physics, but it’s very unnoticeable most of the time so it’s survivable). Because of the unfortunate physics aspect, it does require Coronerras Maxiumum Compatibility Skeleton, but otherwise it’s a brilliant remodel. However, the Archmage Robes present a problem with equip-able ears - as they take up an amulet slot and these robes don’t let amulets show, you will have missing ears with these robes. There’s another mod I use to fix this, which I’ll get to late.

Alternatively, there is a male replacer for the Archmage Robes that I like but (obviously) have never used if you’re making male characters

The Triss Armour Retexture is another great mod, and I personally like to use the Dark Brotherhood variant for my DBH characters as opposed to actual Shrouded Armour. They can be a pain to obtain as you need to fight your way through some bandits in Fort Cedrian, then locate the bag in the Mausoleum, but they are worth the trouble.

Assorted Protective Female Armours is another must imo as it fixes the ridiculous boobplates and some textures for some of the game’s heavy armours.

If you used the HGEC Body for female characters, then you’ll want to grab the Vanilla Amulets Fix for HGEC as it’ll fix how amulets fit on that body.

Spike4072s Female Sheogorath Regalia is a great mod if you’d rather keep the iconic Sheogorath look on a female character rather than have it swapped out for a dress.

Shrouded Armour Cowl is another great mod for DBH characters; I use it with the Dark Brotherhood Triss Armour, seeing as the hood doesn’t really mix with it.

Sinblood_SonjaArmourTweaked is another good female armour mod; it looks good, and is reasonably functionable.

Other Mods

Oblivion Reloaded is a fantastic mod; primarily it’s a graphics extender mod, and it really does make the world of Oblivion look amazing.

Alternative Start is a great mod, and it functions very much like its Skyrim counterpart. If you want to do the Main Quest but start elsewhere, after a certain number of days pass you’ll receive a message to meet someone in a set period of time at the Temple of the One. That will put you in the tutorial and set up the Main Quest. Word of warning, miss that meeting and I don’t think it’s possible to do the Main Quest at all so just be careful.

Oblivion XP is an absolute must if you struggle with Oblivion’s levelling system like I do. XP is awarded for defeating foes, discovering locations, completing quests, stealing things, etc. It’s installed with Oblivion Mod Manager, so make sure you grab that.

Kvatch Rebuilt is a pretty damn good mod which offers a questline to rebuild the city of Kvatch and give it a ruler. That ruler can even be the player, depending on some choices you make. The voice acting isn’t stellar, but it’s worth it to see Kvatch restored.It requires the Engine Bugs Fixes so make sure to grab that.Also, make sure you pick up Compatibility Patches for OCO to avoid too many weird faces around Kvatch and other places.

Reneers Guard Overhaul is also a pretty useful mod if the ever-charming behaviour of the Oblivion Guards gets a bit wearing. They’ll no longer chase you to the ends of Tamriel, and a crime committed in Cheydinhal won’t get you attacked in Leyawiin (kinda like how Skyrim manages crime).

No Anachronistic Main Quest Comments is good for immersion; you won’t have people saying how a city might not go the way of Kvatch after the Oblivion Crisis is over.

Now, the amulet issue with the Archmage Robes. I fixed that with the Summonable Private Quarters, which provides a station where you can mess with slots for armour/clothing sets. There’s lots of use for this mod besides just making your amulets and ears visible, but this is what I primarily use it for.To make it work you need the Core files of Cobl, so manually download that and move the core folder into Oblivion’s Data folder.

I also use a couple of animation mods, namely Staff Animation which changes the PC’s idles and the way they move when holding a staff so it looks less awkward.

There’s also the Heroic Female Idle Replacer which is less stiff than the vanilla female idle. Otherwise I recommend searching through the Oblivion Nexus’ animation tag and finding any mods that suit you and your characters best.

Project Oblivion Gate Destruction Spell is useful if you get tired of diving into gates over and over again when you just want to get on with the game. Just cast the spell and poof, no more gate and you still get the Sigil Stone. It’s good for when you’ve already played the game over a few times.

The Elder Scrolls Online Imports is a must have if you love ESO like I do. It adds some bits of lore, creatures, and locations from ESO.

Better Cities makes the cities of Cyrodiil more varied and interesting, though it might be a bit troublesome at times. I’ve had the occasional problem with this mod, purely based on load order so just keep that in mind. Otherwise it’s a gorgeous mod with a lot of effort and creativity put into it.

Vanilla Staff Replacer isn’t necessary if you’re not playing a mage, but I really enjoy it personally ^^

I’m going to add Black Horse Colour Overhaul because it honestly bugs me that the black horses in Oblivion aren’t black

Companion Vilja is a mod I haven’t actually used yet, but I’ve got installed for this playthrough because I’ve been meaning to play it forever. Apparently Terry Pratchett himself contributed to this mod, so that should speak for its quality.

I hope this was helpful to you Nonnie, and good luck with modding Oblivion ^^

#anon #oblivion #modding #mod recs #long post

[ongoingaccident-deleted]

Martin Mantles Sanguine

So inspired by this absolutely gorgeous artwork and someone’s tags that I cannot for the life of me find (if they were your tags please let me know, I’d love to properly thank you for inspiring me) saying something along the lines of “what if Martin had to mantle Sanguine before the end of the main quest?” I have written some garbage start to a longer story based on that premise. Full thing under the cut! :) It is completely unedited as of now, so I apologize for any mistakes and would like to thank you for reading in advance!

It was the night before they were to head to the Imperial City and see Martin crowned when she had the dream. It was... odd, to say the least, for someone who rarely dreamed to have one that was so very vivid, but even more odd was the content.

When she looked down, Adelaide realized she was not on Nirn anymore - instead, she was in some glowing plane of reality that seemed to have no beginning and no end. The strangest part, however, was the flaming dragon before her, and it got stranger still when the dragon began to speak.

“Adelaide Darrell, the one they call the Hero of Kvatch, know me for who I am.” The fiery creature spoke with a voice that she thought could move mountains or dig canyons. She wasn’t sure if the visceral feeling it left in her gut was terror or awe. “I am Akatosh, and I require your obedience.” That would explain the booming voice and the dragon and the glowing realm. Best to hear him out, then - not that she seemed to have much of a choice. “You are too late. As we speak, the armies of Mehrunes Dagon march on the Imperial City. He will arrive in Tamriel before you can light the Dragonfires, and you cannot fight him as you are.”

This whole thing had gone very quickly from a really interesting dream to a concerningly realistic nightmare. Adelaide tried not to let the fact that she was speaking to one of her gods intimidate her too much. “What should I do?”

The dragon let out a puff of air that could have been exasperation or amusement. She wasn’t sure which option concerned her more. “There is a portal in the middle of the Niben Bay. You must enter it and become something more than yourself. Only a god can defeat another god.”

It seemed that the stereotype of divine beings being infuriatingly cryptic was correct after all. “What about Tamriel? What will become of it while I’m gone?”

Akatosh eyed her, and again Adelaide failed to discern whether it was with approval or distaste. “Time in Oblivion passes differently than it does in Mundus. No Nirn time will pass while you are gone. But you must be swift. Obey me, or Tamriel will fall.” Before she could say anything else - before she could think anything else - he was gone.

For an instant, everything went black and she had the oddest sensation of free-falling through space before she woke with a jolt. She had taken to sleeping on the floor of Martin’s quarters when she was at the temple, but they were as dark as they had been when she went to sleep.

Adelaide breathed heavily for a moment as she tried to think what to do - that had been too clear a dream to ignore outright - when Martin also awoke with a muffled noise.

She was on her feet and at his side in an instant, but the look he gave her as he sat up did little to calm her nerves. “You’ll never believe the dream I had,” he said lightly, but his voice was stiff and she knew he was more troubled than his words implied.

Adelaide met his eyes, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, knew with frightening certainty what his dream had been like. “He came to you too, then,” she whispered. “It was no dream.”

Martin took one of her hands in his and gripped it tightly, and for a moment they stood there in silence before he spoke. “He did. We should go.” But he didn’t move to stand or leave.

Adelaide squeezed back before gently (oh so gently, she could never risk hurting him) pulling hers away and picking her cuirass up off of the floor. “It will be all right. I do not know what this journey shall bring, but we will have one another. But we cannot wait. The situation is dire.”

Martin sighed softly as he stood. “I don’t think we will be together, but you’re correct. We cannot tarry.”

He padded over to his wardrobe as she froze in between straps of her gauntlets. “What do you mean? You aren’t coming to the Niben Bay?”

Martin removed his plain grey priest robe as he shook his head. “I am heading to the Imperial Reserve, north of Skingrad.” His voice was tight, but she wasn’t sure why. Certainly the situation was stressful and sudden and far from ideal, but she got the feeling that there was a memory bothering him.

“Are you all right?” she asked suddenly, pulling up one of her sabatons. But Martin shook his head again as he began to dress and she turned her eyes away.

“I am fine, but it is no matter. You are correct. We cannot delay. We must obey Akatosh.” He was lying and she could tell, but Adelaide didn’t press the issue. As with everything else, Martin would tell her when he felt ready.

They finished their preparations in silence before heading toward the stables. Jauffre was sitting alone in the great hall, and started when he saw them. “Where are you going? We aren’t leaving until the morning.”

Adelaide hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Martin answered for them. “We have been given a task we must complete. We will meet you in the Imperial City tomorrow.” She could tell that Jauffre was distinctly displeased with the idea, but Martin’s tone brokered no argument. The grandmaster tried anyway.

“It isn’t safe, sire. Please at least take an escort if you must leave.”

But Martin shook his head. “We must leave immediately, and we must go alone. Please, my friend, we can waste time no longer.”

Adelaide could pinpoint the exact moment at which Jauffre relented. His eyes dropped and his shoulders sagged as he heaved a deep sigh. “Very well. Do what you must. We will be waiting for you. Gods-speed, sire.”

Martin took the older man’s hands in his and smiled gently. “Thank you, Jauffre.”

Adelaide tried not to think too hard about what would happen if they didn’t succeed - that was irrelevant, now. They would win, or they would die, and so would everyone else.

She and Martin saddled and mounted their horses quietly. Any attempts at small-talk died quickly - they had become very close over the last few weeks, but the situation was too serious for them to distract themselves with idle conversation. Their ride, too, was quiet and tense as they listened for bandits or cultists or worse. But as tense as it was, the end was more difficult still.

Adelaide clasped Martin’s arm gently as he turned his horse toward the hills. “Be safe.” She hesitated a moment before continuing. “I do not know what Akatosh asked of you or why it torments you so, but you can overcome this.” She swallowed heavily and didn’t meet his eyes. “I will see you soon.”

But before she could turn away, Martin pulled her into an awkwardly positioned almost-embrace. “Thank you, Adelaide. For everything. Stay safe, and we will meet again soon.” Despite her discomfort, she held him until he pulled away.

“Until then, Martin.” And despite every instinct she had screaming at her to ride with him, to help him, to protect her emperor from the dangers that were assuredly ahead, she turned her horse down the road and continued to ride.

Thankfully, it was only another two hours’ ride to the bay, and the time passed uneventfully. (Akatosh’s protection? Perhaps.)

As Adelaide approached the gates to Bravil, she could make out a distant, shining object in the center of the bay. Whatever Akatosh had been telling her of, no doubt. With a slight sigh, she dismounted and loosely looped Antinea’s reins around a tree next to the stables. “I’ll return soon,” she told the horse. “If there’s danger, run.”

With that, she waded into the bay, intensely grateful that she was a strong swimmer. The glowing object in the center of the bay was far, but not unreachable, and became clearer the closer she got. As she approached, Adelaide realized it was actually an island with a portal in the center.

Her blood chilled when she heard the voice commanding her to enter - Akatosh had sent her to a Daedra. (Martin too, most likely - an even more concerning thought.) But she was nothing if not loyal, and after a moment to steel herself, she stepped into the door.

Later, Adelaide would swear she had spent weeks inside the glowing door. But to any outside observers, she had only just entered the portal when Sheogorath emerged, tilted her head slightly, and laughed.

A moment later, she shook her head as if to clear it and stood up straight, looking completely changed from a few seconds before. A staff topped with a rolling eyeball appeared in her hand for a moment before it disappeared again as she turned her gaze toward the Imperial City.

A storm was rolling in.

--

That’s all I have for now, but I’ve been on a roll writing this and have already started the next part, so if people are interested I’ll probably put that up too! Thank you for reading and I really hope you enjoyed! :D

#tes #elder scrolls #oblivion #martin septim #adelaide darrell #jauffre #he shows up #i am really not a good enough writer to give this idea the justice it deserves #cat writes #cat says things #cat queued #cat is a mess oops #hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!! #really appreciate it :D #ahhh putting writing on the internet makes me nervous #cat is absurd #don't listen to me #my tags are a mess lmao #martin mantles sanguine

[cruisingheightswithdragons]

The Empath

Throughout this journey, the Empath has no name, and no memories, however their role in the world was still incredibly important, for it was to protect all of Tamriel. The Empath is kind, gentile, loving, and all around a good soul. They can feel the emotions of those around them, and can sense foreboding, or unease in the air. Though they do good in the world, they still wish to know who they are.

Timeline:

2E, 718

The Empath is supposedly born this year.

2E, 737

The Empath, unconscious on the side of a road, is woken up by another Khajiit named Randarji, and the Empath has no memories. They tag along with Randarji as the only person they know in a world now unfamiliar to them. Randarji calls the Empath “Dear” until she finds out their name.

The two end up adventuring across Cyrodiil together, exploring caves and ruins, and helping people out. The Empath finds helping people to come naturally to them.

2E, 738

The two grow rather fond of each other, and form a relationship.

While adventuring, The Empath has a vision after finding the symbol of Kazin-Dar on a ring. They keep the ring, as they feel it has significant meaning.

Randarji wonders if perhaps the Empath’s memory problem is in relation to daedra. She suggests finding a daedra worshipper and asking them about it. First, they read up on the different daedric princes.

In a dream, the Empath is visited by Sheogorath, who has taken an interest in the couple’s adventure. He asks a favor for a reward of the wabbajack. The Empath refuses the staff, and instead asks for information on who they are. Sheo agrees and tells them of what they need to do: find an argonian named Gathers-Flowers and ask him where he gets his flowers. When he answers a certain way, allow him to join them, and take him to the shrine of Sheogorath. The Empath agrees and wakes up. The two do what the prince asks, and when they arrive at his shrine with the argonian, Sheogorath is there in person, and proposes for Gathers-Flowers to come to the Shivering Isles, where he will be safe from the people who hurt him. The argonian agrees, and a portal opens which he enters. Sheo asks the khajiit couple to come with, since his reward is still in need of giving, and they go with. Sheo offers to enter into the Empath’s mind and help her find her memories, and they agree. In the Empath’s mind, the two walk down a path of memories, all from after they had woken up. They get to the memory of them waking up, and cannot go any farther, but the Empath feels a wave of sadness flood them, leading them to know that they were devastated from something before losing their memories. They return to the waking world with only that clue and nothing else. The two khajiit thank Sheo and return to Cyrodiil to continue their adventure and hopefully find new information.

2E, 739

The two reunite with Gathers-Flowers, who is vacationing in Cyrodiil. He joins the two on their journey.

The trio go to Morrowind after being attacked by cultists of Hermaeus Mora, and finding information that they came from the province in search of the Empath.

They find a shrine to Hermaeus Mora, and the prince speaks to them saying that he has been watching them for a while. He introduces himself to the Empath as the prince of knowledge, fate, and memory. The Empath asks if he could help, since their memories were erased, and he says that he can. Randarji, however, sees right through this ruse, and tells her two companions that they need to leave. The daedric prince appears as a mass of tentacles, and drags the Empath into Apocrypha. Nothing is heard from them for the next year as Randarji and Gathers-Flowers go on a quest to free them.

2E, 740

The two find the Empath wandering in the forests of Valenwood, shaken and disoriented. They have a heartwarming reunion, and the Empath details their time in the daedric realm, and talks of their escape. They say that they had received help from a strange man in the realm who also desired escape, but in the moment of truth, he could not come with. They also found out that their memory was erased in part of a prophecy, “empathy shall overcome apathy, and when that is done, peace will rule all.”

The trio resume their exploits, and as they journey they find a cloud hanging over the people, as if their motivation has been drained.

During their journey, they realize that apathy is taking over, and that the Empath is the one who must defeat whatever is causing it.

2E, 741

The Empath has a flashback to Vashjhad’s time after finding a dark elf who had the necklace that he had. The dark elf introduces himself as Dorin Verayon, which causes the Empath to have another flashback to meeting him, and his betrayal. Dorin realizes that they are Vashjhad’s reincarnation, and tries to kill them, but is knocked out by Gathers-Flowers. The trio leave the scene after The Empath takes the necklace.

One night, they get a dream from Stendarr, who tells them that apathy is growing in strength. The Empath asks what he means, and he tells them that like how they are empathy incarnate, there is one who is the personification of apathy. For Apathy to be defeated, the Empath, now called Empathy by Stendarr, had to have their memories wiped clean, to be pure of heart and mind, and once Apathy is defeated, they will regain their lost memories. Empathy and Apathy will meet at the heart of Tamriel, and all will be brought peace.

Empathy wakes from the dream, and tells Randarji and Gathers-Flowers that they need to return to Cyrodiil for the final confrontation. On the way, they explain to the two what happened.

The trio come to the Imperial City, and almost everyone they come across are apathetic. They realize that the confrontation between Empathy and Apathy is almost here. Empathy hears a voice call out to them, and sees Dorin coming to them. He says that he is Apathy, and has come to challenge them, taunting them that he has killed them once before, and will do so again. The two battle, and Empathy manages to defeat Apathy. In a blinding light, Tamriel is returned to a world of emotion and peace, but the flash blinds Empathy.

Empathy gets a dream that night, and Stendarr restores their memories, and Empathy finds their name, but wants to remain Empathy as a token of their successful mission. As well, they find out why they were sad before their memories were wiped, because their family had been attacked by cultists of Hermaeus Mora, leaving them to flee to the road they woke up on. They ask Stendarr about the memories of their previous lives, but he tells them that that is something he is not associated with. Empathy asks one more thing, that their name and family memories be erased, so as to not deal with the pain, but keep the memory of them asking this of the Aedra. He does so, Empathy awakens, and they resume life.

The trio continue to travel across Tamriel, helping out people and exploring old ruins for treasure. Empathy continues to get visions of their past lives, still unknowing of what it means.

Gathers-Flowers returns to the Shivering Isles, after saying his goodbyes to the two khajiit that have been his best friends.

Empathy learns about the reincarnation cycle after a series of flashbacks, and dedicates their travels to searching for more information. This, however, does not get resolved.

2E, 746

Empathy and Randarji are attacked by a group of bandits, and Empathy is killed by one of them, thus continuing the curse of Kazin-Dar. Randarji buries her partner by the place she first found them.

#my art #the elder scrolls #elder scrolls #tes #tes oc #elder scrolls oc #khajiit #khajiit oc #the empath #empathy #this ok this is my favorite original one #i LOVED writing their story #also i like to call the trio the gay squad agsksvskd #we got a lesbian we got a nb lesbian and we got a gay dude #and look! dorin is back! #i told yall he was important to two lives #but damn him being apathy incarnate ooooh plot fuckin twist baby

[powerovernothing]

What would the other two bros do if one of them was really terrified of something?

Dear sweet lovely Anon, I do believe you have just said the magic words. After all, I consider hurt/comfort to be my all-time favorite sort of genre to write about in general, and when it comes to Korbin and his siblings, I rarely do anything angsty without including something near the end to make the pain and the tears all better… so really, what I’m trying to say here is that you really don’t have to twist my arm to get me to answer your adorable question~

In fact, I believe I shall go a step beyond just the regular and long-winded answer I normally do when you send me these wonderful messages and will actually give you a few snippets of my writing based around this very concept! So, in other words, my friend! Buckle up, prepare your feelings, and get ready to do some reading down below!

And, if I didn’t already say it at some point recently, thank you – and everyone else – so very much for the continued and wonderful support! It means more to me than you guys will ever know~!

(*~*Underneath is six different snippets of writing from my Oblivion Verse, some that have actually been unseen as of now on this blog, and all of which involve tons of emotions from all three of the boys. Lots of reading involved, proceed with caution!*~*)

If Korbin Was The One Afraid:

When it comes to Korbin and the subject of fear, the things that he is quite often afraid of is based around the aspects of mental terror. Whether it is because of intense nightmares of past mistakes, or the torment he endures at the hands of Sheogorath and what may happen if he goes against his abuser, those are the things he is afraid of most. So, if he was in the trying process of suffering through either of those outcomes – or both at the same time, imagine that – I believe his chosen siblings would react as follows:

Lucien:

(In the aftermath of Sheogorath’s latest ‘play sessions’ with his Little Raven, Lucien soothes Korbin’s mangled nerves)

“Mydear Silencer, look at me,” He calls to him softly, his voice reassuring andgentle. Yet, when his words are unable to breach through the darkening cloud surroundingKorbin’s mind, his tenderness fades and is replaced with as much firmness as hedares to allow himself to be in this moment. “No, Korbin, you will do exactly asI say, and will look at me when I tell you to.”

It takes a rather long while, butKorbin finally does as he is prompted, and when their eyes meet, Lucien noticeshis normally sparkling gaze is now terrified and filled with overwhelmedtears.

“My brother, you are allright,” He says matter-of-factly, and lowers Korbin’s trembling hands tohis lap, so he might hold them both tightly in his own as their fingers intertwinewith one another. “Simply breathe deeply, and know you are not in any formof danger. Do this as many times as you need, as many times as you believe are required, until you find, and at last grasp the truth behindthe words I speak.”

An extended silence falls over thecamp, and Korbin’s shoulders continue to shake violently; the tears in his eyesfalling from his eyes and down his cheeks even amid attempting to make sense ofhis brother’s instruction. Lucien remains where he is, hardly daring to moveeven an inch from his side, and only squeezes Korbin’s hands when he believes hisSilencer falls prey to whatever unspeakable horror he is attempting to fightwithin his own mind.

And when Korbin is carefully pulled from the depths andrealizes the touch he is feels is Lucien’s own, he grasps onto his brother’s handswith white knuckles, and holds on as though they were truly the only possible thingin time itself that could keep him afloat.

“Can you hear the sound of myvoice?” He asks after a moment.Korbinsays nothing in response to his brother’s questioning, and simply nods; hisbreathing rough and ragged, but calming slightly.Lucien then takes one of hishands away from Korbin’s tight grip and returns his palm back overthe side of his cheek.“Are you able to feel mytouch upon your face?” Another nod, and Lucien’s tonesoftens once again.“And you know for absolute certainthat it shall not harm you?” “…I do,” Korbin finally speaks, and he struggles to find his words.“I know… very well that you… that you would never hurt me, Lucien. Even when… evenwhen I’m like this…”“Yes, very good,”Lucien replies with a genuine smile. “And indeed, you are correct in whatyou say, my Silencer, for I would never think to harm you in any way.”And although he cherishes the soothing words his brother speaks to him, and howthe Madness is beginning to subside the longer he remains underneathLucien’s careful touch, the lingering fear of somehow falling back to sleep, only to find himself suffocated underneath never-ending chains, before being broken from an all too different, and oh-so sickening touch, only causes his shoulder to tense and whatever reassurance he thought to heave leave him almost instantly.“But even if you wouldnever hurt me… I know… I know someone who would,” He pulls away from Lucien’s touch, and wraps his arms around himself. “Someone who did. In my mind, before you came tome. You have no idea what it was like, brother, it was simply…”However, Lucien refuses to allowsuch a thing to happen, and reaches to pull Korbin back before he has a chanceto get too far.“It was simply a terribledream, and nothing more,” He explains in a gentle tone, placing one hand in hishair and the other around his shoulders as he holds him close. “It cannot physicallydo any damage to you.”Korbin shakes his head. “But,you don’t –”“—Silence now, and know Iam here,” He whispers, lowering Korbin’s head to his chest before he thinks to speak another wordand runs his fingers through his brother’s tousled locks of grey affectionately. “Whatsoever yousaw surely does not matter any longer, for you are safe within my embrace, and Ishall never let anything come to harm you, Korbin. Not now, and not even whilstyou sleep.”

Martin:

(Martin tends to Korbin after an ambush by the Mythic Dawn, and Korbin blames himself for needing help at all)“There is no shame indesiring protection, and comfort; or coming to my side and allowing me to healyour injuries, you know that I would never –”

“–You very nearly passed outbecause of me, Martin.” Korbin interjects softly, cutting him off as hefeels the tears pooling in his eyes. “You wasted too much energy, and Iwould have been the reason for you hurting yourself…”

Martin breathes out, andthen begins to stand to his full height; touching both of his hands to Korbin’scheeks affectionately, and carefully lowering his tone.

“And yet do you see merefusing, or turning you away, even if such words were true?”

Korbin shakes his head, attemptsto wiggle out of the touch he does not deserve, but his brother onlyholds him in place.

“No, it is not as thoughyou would slam the door in my face,” He tells him, his eyes nearlyoverflowing. “But it does not mean that you should help me,or that I deserve such…kindness.”

Martin places a hand againstKorbin’s neck, and slowly pulls him forward. Korbin does not fight him, he onlyreaches out and grabs a part of Martin’s robe to clutch onto. Grounding him andkeeping him afloat in this dark raging sea. Just another weakness, just another act born ofshame.

“And just why do youbelieve that?” Martin whispers, allowing his brother to hold on ashe runs a hand through his hair. “Why do you believe that you, mydearest little brother, is unworthy of my affection, or my love?”

Korbin buries his head intoMartin’s robe and chokes out a quiet sob. “…Because what if in thenext instance that this happens, you are with me?” The tears run freelydown his face. “What if you are injured somehow, or you expend too muchenergy, or my own actions cause you to leave me?”

Martin pulls back andgives him a curious stare as he tries to dry his tears with his thumbs. “What do you mean by–”

“–You know exactly what Imean by my words, Martin!” Korbin shouts, jerking back as tears runincessantly down his cheeks. “I cannot bear the thought of my mistakescausing you to die in my arms or turn away in shame and anger! And yet, with asmany missteps as I take, it surely means that is only a matter of time before Istumble down the mountain entirely, and you or Lachance fall along with me! Itonly makes sense! Perfect, terrible, awful sense!”

Martin feels his heart breakinganew, and yet he only moves forward to pull Korbin back against him. He husheshis frantic cries and tries to calm his shaking shoulders.

“…Korbin, neither I nor Lachance would ever think to leave your side,” Martin slowly rocks himin place, attempting to soothe him in action as well as words. “We loveyou far too dearly to ever think of doing anything of the sort.”

[…]

“What I am attempting tosay, however,” Martin slowly turns Korbin’s face back around, and lockseyes with him as his voice turns serious. “Is that even though you may beafraid, and that the path before you may be treacherous, and overwhelming tobehold… there is certainly no shame in how you feel, as you are not alone infeeling them. Nor are you alone whatsoever.”

Martin leans forward, and Korbinis surprised when he places a gentle kiss upon his brow. “And if you find that toohard to accept,” He whispers gently, the firmness in his voice gone as quickly as it had come. “Then simply allow me to fightoff whatever frightens you the most.”

If Martin Was The One Afraid:

Being the chosen heir of the Imperial throne in the midst of the great Oblivion Crisis, there is no limit to the things that Martin would end up being afraid of. From dealing with the constant onslaught of Daedra forces, to knowing he will have to bear the weight of the crown by the end of the Crisis, to even witnessing his brothers constantly putting themselves at risk for his own sake… there are many things that could make Martin frightened for one reason or another. Thus, if something like that occurred at any point, I believe his siblings would react as follows:

Lucien:

(Martin has sleeplessness from the Mysterium Xarxes, and Lucien tends to him)

“When was the last time that you slept?” He says,reaching out his hand and turning Martin’s face to the side with a singletouch. “And slept more than a few hours at a time?”

Martin touches the hand that is on his face and lowers itwith a small – rather nervous, sheepish – chuckle. “Would you possiblybe satisfied in any way, if I told you that I simply cannot remember?”

Lucien frowns in response, quite obviously not pleased in anyway regarding Martin’s words, and he exhales a soft sigh. “Ah, then it is justas I thought.”

Lucien pulls his hand away from Martin’s grasp, and thenslowly begins to shuffle backwards upon the large bed until his back is laidpropped against the headboard. When he stills, he crosses his arms overhis chest, and gestures towards Martin with his chin.

“Then I shall ask you again,” He says, and heshakes his head in knowing that Martin managed to have him repeat himself afterall. “Come here and allow me to rectify your terrible choices atonce.”

Martin pauses, genuinely surprised by what he was hearing,and what Lucien was doing – for him,and not their youngest, more troubled brother for once – and he just smilesfaintly.

“Are you suggesting that I come lay beside you?” Heslowly moves forward, but pauses half way, as though he was awaiting voicedapproval of such actions. “As you would with Korbin?”

Lucien holds out his hand; an invitation. “Do you have issuewith that?”

Martin shakes his head and takes the offered hand willingly. “No,not at all,” He tells him simply. Letting himself be pulled forward untilhe was directly beside Lucien against the pillows. “I was just… rathersurprised that you would choose to do this. For me, that is.”

Lucien wraps an arm around Martin’s back, and slowlyreadjusts the Emperor Priest until his head was laying upon his robedshoulders. He listens carefully to the words in which his brother speaks, and asmall amused chuckle escapes him before he realizes it.

When Martin looks up, due to the sudden sound, Lucien justsoftens and tightens his almost protective grip around him.

“You are my brother, are you not?”

Martin nods, nestling himself further within Lucien’s grip,and finding the embrace of The Assassin comforting despite everyknown reason that it shouldn’t.

“Indeed; or at the very least, I was the last Ichecked.” Martin smiles slightly playfully.

“And you have gone without sleep for many nights;possibly brought on due to a certain Daedra Artifact and its influence overyou?” Lucien turns his head, casting Martin back underneath his darkstare. But instead of the Septim Heir desiring nothing more than to wiggleaway, and escape from Lucien’s eyes, he notices a hint of concern lurkingbehind his elder brother’s eyes.

Martin merely nods and allows him to continue. To piece togetherthe puzzle pieces he had already gathered, and to admit the truth in which wasalready clearly known.

“…Or perhaps, it was not simply that damnable bookitself, but the nightmares seeking to torment you when you longed for asoundless rest?”

[…]

“Lucien?”

In response, almost as though he could sense where thisthought process was heading just from the whisper of his name alone, Lucienhushes Martin, and pulls his brother closer.

“…I am not going anywhere, Septim,” He reassures him,hoping it is enough even as he wraps his other arm around him just in case itproves otherwise. “Sleep and know that I am here. You are perfectly safe.”

Korbin:

(Martin is temporarily blinded by Akatosh’s great power, and Korbin tries to see the bright side of things)“Martin, what in all of Sithis himself were you thinking?!“Korbin shouts, kneeling in front of his brother and grasping onto his shoulderstightly as his concern and anger combine into an uncontrollable emotion seeking to overwhelm.“I told you I would have beenfine! You had no reason to give yourself over to that sort of magic, especially whenyou barely understand such power to begin with!” He shakes Martin slightly in emphasis to his heated words, and then his emotions shift from the intense mixture of worry and rage, to a much more selfish line of thought. “You could have hurt yourself back there! Burned yourself from the extent of the flames, did terrible things to your body, or you could haveeasily died by unknowingly expending too much energy! And just what would I have done then? What would I have done if youdied in the process of protecting me?!”Korbin pulls his hands away, and impatiently awaits a reply. But whenone does not come, and instead his brother simply continues to stare at him blankly, hardly reacting to his words, or even the sudden shaking, his expression twists in frustration.

“Are you merely going to let me ramble on without end? Without hardly saying asingle word in response?” He asks in an offended tone, and then touches his shoulder once againwith one hand, patting it lightly in an effort to gain his attention. “Did you evenhear a single word I said to you at all?”

Martin inhales a deep breath in the hopes of somehow composinghimself, but it does very little to soothe his nerves. His shoulders beginto shake as he desperately scrambles to reach for the hand he feels restingagainst his shoulder. His voice stammers, and his unfocused eyes fill to therim with terrified tears.

“…I can… I can hear you justfine, Korbin,” He tells him when he finds his brother’s hand at last. He turnshis head, and the tears slip down his cheeks as he clutches the hand pitifullyagainst his chest. “It is only because I cannot… see you… that I said nothing. Know that I… that I can hear you just as clearly as I would naturally… but your face… noteven your place in, where I assume, you are in front of me… I can no longer see it… Isimply cannot see anything…”

[…]

“All right, this doesn’t… this doesn’t mean it isn’t something we can learn to deal with, and come to terms with, yes?” Korbin mutters with a nervous chuckle, one hand resting against Martin’s face so that his brother might know he is still there outside of voice alone, and the other running through his hair almost frantically before he stands.

“We have faced all manner of things before now, and dear Sithis, we have even faced the very worst that Oblivion itself had to offer! So, a little thing like… like a sudden loss of sight doesn’t mean it takes away who you are! You are still very much my beloved brother, and I care for you even if you have bright and shining eyes much like my own, or dimmed and faded ones!”

Martin sits with his hands folded in his lap where Korbin had placed him beside what he assumes is the feeling of the heat of the fire lightly warming against his skin as it crackles and pops. He listens intently to his brother as he rambles on and finds it curious how his voice fades in the distance, and then rises in volume at least half a dozen times.

He can only surmise, from behind his still darkened eyes, that his brother is pacing about the grounds of their campsite.

“And if that is not enough to soothe you,” Korbin begins, halting his step and coming to stand in front of his brother with his hands outstretched to gesture. “Then we could always locate a healer of some kind! I mean, there must be some amount of magic, or magical being in this Void cursed world we inhabit that could make you better! I mean, whatever else is that damn magic good for if not for healing! Or, if you simply do not want to involve an alternate means of magic – considering it was Divine tampered magic that caused this to happen to begin with – then I simply stay beside you and help whenever you needed to see.”

Korbin kneels in front of Martin and reaches to take his brother’s hands in his own, and Martin tilts his his head and blinks in surprise.

“After all, considering that my honored title is the Knight of the Emperor, I see very little reason why I cannot be considered the Eyes of the Emperor just the same,” Korbin tells him with a genuine smile. “I can assist whenever you need to pass judgement, or when you need to write out papers, or even when you need to go from one room to the next. Whatever is needed my dear brother, you have me. As long as it helps… and as long as you know, without a doubt, that I am with you in this darkness….”

If Lucien Was The One Afraid:

Now, this is where things become quite tricky, and just a touch complicated in the long run. Mostly because, as the eldest sibling out of the three, there are very seldom moments where Lucien allows himself to be seen as weak in front of both Korbin and Martin. As he deems himself to be their protector, and the one who keeps them safe whenever something dangerous or frightening arises.However, this is also where it backfires on him, as while he is indeed the eldest, that just means he has so much more to lose. Worrying over their safety, and fearing the moment he would be too late, sometimes it just overwhelms him in uncontrollable ways. And while there aren’t exactly many moments where he is the one receiving comfort from his younger brothers, you have just managed to inspire me to create more, my dear Anon!

But here’s hoping these will sate you until that time comes~

Korbin:

(Lucien is haunted from nightmares of his previous Silencer, and his brother’s death, and Korbin calms him unintentionally)

“What good is your trustand love, dear Speaker,” Lara whispers; her fingernails digging into hisforearm and drawing blood, as her lips twitch with a demented smile. “Whenyou knew in your cold and selfish heart that you would never be able to carefor them as much as they cared for you?”

Lucien’s eyes dart quickly fromboth Lara’s bloodied and torn face, to where Korbin stands far too still as heslices his throat with The Assassin’s own dagger, and he feels himselfdrowning. Being pulled under the weight of his own choices, his own mistakes,his own foolish heart that should have never tried to love whatsoever, and allhe wishes to do is scream until his throat is raw.

“Whatever you thought were yours to hold, shall againbe taken!” Lara squeals happily; pulling Lucien into her embrace, as hervoice shifts from playfulness, to quiet anger. Lucien feels a cold sweat formover his forehead as he listens to her words. “And yet, why do you look sosurprised, dear Lachance? Have you not realized by now that your love is simplya death curse written in the bloodstains of those you foolishly sought to carefor?”

Lara finally lets him go, andLucien falls to his knees in tearful heap. Watching helplessly as Korbin chokeson his blood, and falls backwards away from the cliff side, and down into thedepths of the abyss below. As he does, and Lucien’s hand remains outstretchedtowards a brother he knows he can no longer save, he finds his voice at last.

“Dear sweet Dread Father make itall stop!”

[…]

“By Sithis, I surely cannot explainit,” He mutters to himself; his tone quiet, far softer than the mosttender whisper. “…But the mere thought of losing you in any way; why, itis enough to bring me to my knees in sheer grief alone.”

As his hand moves away fromKorbin’s head, a small grumble – caught between another snore and a groan –reaches his ears, and his brother begins to stir from where he lay.

“…Lucien?” He says ashe attempts to raise his head; his eyes still closed as he speaks. “W-Whatdid… what did you say?”

Lucien chuckles warmly despite it all and leansdown on one knee. “Nothing, my Silencer,” He whispers; pulling the blankets back up around Korbin’sshoulders. “Or at the very least, nothing of grand importance.”

Korbin lowers his head back ontohis pillow when he feels the warmth of the blanket envelop him, and he smilessleepily.

“Are you certain?” Comespart of his question, and his head rolls several times to the side and backuntil he is able to find enough willpower to finish what he was saying. “Afterall, if there is… something you need from me, I could try… and assist?”

‘All I need from you, my brother, is for you to simply stayalive.’

It goes unspoken, unsaid, and asLucien muses silently over the thoughts in his own mind, he slowly brushes theback of his hand against Korbin’s cheek in a candid moment of affection.

“Yes, I am quitecertain,” He answers simply; his gentle actions betraying his otherwiseunemotional tone of voice. “Go back to sleep now, and we shall speak againcome morning.”

Korbin nods in response to hisbrother’s commands, incredibly eager to follow them to the letter withouthardly a word in complaint for once. Lucien continues to watch Korbin for amoment, and when he believes him to be back within the realm of sleep, hefinally stands; moving away from the beds before heading back towards thecracked door of their shared chambers.

But before he reaches connectinghallways, he hears a familiar voice sound from the shadows once again.

“Goodnight, brother,”Comes Korbin’s fading tone from behind; already consumed by his tiredness whenthe words leave him, and yet still desiring to have the final word even still.

Lucien merely smiles sadly whenhe hears his Silencer’s incredibly innocent – and yet far too ironic – wellwishes, and he slowly shakes his head as he whispers his faint reply under hisbreath.

“Sleep well, my dearKorbin.”

Martin:

(Lucien breaks down whilst on the search for Mehrunes Razor to save Korbin from Sheogorath, and Martin soothes him)

Lucien buries the sharp edge of his blade into the bark of the tree and forces down the scream rising in his throat. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Martin’s hands trembling in front of him, uncertain as to what he could possibly do to make this moment better. And all Lucien can do is laugh bitterly at the sight.

“…How is it that no one, in the entirety of this unjust and vile land, has come to realize that we, as his chosen eldest siblings, only want him to be safe?! To at last be set free from his seemingly unending torment and have some manner of the peace so wrongfully denied him!” He slams his fist against the harsh bark and cares very little for the blood running down his hand in response to his actions. His eyes are downcast, and he stares at the pebbles at his feet as the memory that drove him to such a state repeats without end in his mind, and he becomes more emotional.

“Is the sight of him lying in broken tears not already enough to feel utterly helpless? Knowing there is very little we can do at this point to soothe him? Is the sound of his near constant begging for the sweet release of death far too much of a grand request in the eyes of for any possible Divine or Dread Father to somehow grant their mercy?”

Another laugh escapes him, and he slowly pulls his hand back to wipe the blood upon the surface of his armor before turning around around and locking eyes with Martin as angry tears slip down his cheeks. When he began weeping, he surely does not know, but he makes no effort to stop them from falling, even when he sees Martin’s own eyes go wide in shock.

“Of all things… of all things that would prompt them to shun us both away they are needed the most… why must it be this? Why must it be him?” He asks miserably, forcing himself not to step back as his brother begins to move forward. He simply remains fixed in place, all his energy spent on giving life to the words, and the emotion, he had kept within him for too long.

“Tell me, oh wise Emperor… For all your knowledge, all your reassurances, and all the Void-Damned hope you continue to carry alongside that ever-damnable Light, merely answer me this…” Lucien feels his legs beginning to tremble alongside his hands, and he hates every part of the weakness he is allowing himself to give into. But it was too late now, and if he did, indeed somehow fall, then perhaps Martin would catch him. Perhaps then, the two of them could make sense of this all, instead of choosing to shoulder it solely on their own.

Perhaps that is what Korbin needed.

“If you are so content to stand silent and bear witness to me in such a state, lost and near breaking just the very same as you, then surely you must have the answer which eludes me,” Lucien shuts his eyes before he continues, allowing himself to shed broken tears. His anger now having faded away, and simply replaced with genuine pain. He takes a breath, and speaks from behind closed lids. “Why is the one thing I know we both truly desire above all else, for our brother to be alive and to simply feel joy once again, why must it seem so utterly imposs–”

His words are cut off before he has a chance to complete his sentence, for he suddenly feels arms wrapping around his shoulders, and his breathing catches in his throat. Rising his head, he opens his eyes, and sees the faint shape of Martin resting against his shoulder. His hands begin trembling more fervently as they linger just above his brother’s back.

“It is not impossible, and we shall fight back againstevery thought saying otherwise, until we are able to finally save him,” Martin whispers softly, pulling the Assassin close, and tightening the grip he has around him. “He will live through this, Lucien, for we will not let him go so easily. You simply have to keep trusting thatthere will come a day where this will at last be over…and he will be his smiling self once again.”

Lucien says nothing, only nods and slowly wraps shaking arms around Martin’s shoulders. The Emperor Priest rubs a hand over his brother’s back in comfort, as he tries to calm Lucien’s raging emotions with whatever gentle words he believes that he needs to hear the most.

“And if such a thing proves too difficult at first, or you are unable to continue to uphold your self-imposed image of unshakable strength for whatever reason,” He whispers into his ear. “Then understand that it is quite all right, and I shall simply believe enough for the both of us…”

Oh goodness, this ended up way longer than I first expected it to when I was first compiling my ideas, but I honestly couldn’t help myself by the halfway point! Your question was so lovely, and I got so inspired by it, that I couldn’t help but give you something special in return for you taking the time to drop this in my askbox! Did I possibly overwhelm you with all the various snippets of writing from so many different scenarios? Most likely, but I hope that even despite that, you enjoyed reading all of this over!

As you may have already guessed, most of these came from different points in the boy’s lives – some during the Crisis, a little while after, and some even post the two-year time skip – so there’s a touch of flip flopping around, and some of these were actually quite old before character development actually set in. Meaning I had to do a little flash editing to make them presentable to how Korbin and his brothers act nowadays. But as I said, I hope you end up getting some feelings while reading, and you are satisfied with all the new information and scenarios involving these three!

If you have any further questions about the boys, are curious about one of the snippets above that you wish to see more of, or you just wish to poke my brain a little further in the near future, please feel free! I am always overjoyed and honored whenever you prompt me like this, and I always enjoy taking the time to answer you in full! Thank you so much again for leaving this message, sorry for making you wait a while – as well as possibly overwhelming you with all my writing lmao – and I hope that your days are filled with lots of love, hurt/comfort, and tons of hugs and kisses!

All the best to you, lovely Anon~ ♥

#Anonymous #TKTEATA Anon~ #The Knight The Emperor And The Assassin~ #My Fan Fiction~ #Korbin and Lucien Related Things~ #Korbin and Martin Related Things~ #Martin and Lucien Related Things~ #Good Lord this thing turned into an absolute monster of a post but considering that I just adored dear Anon's question so much #I had to turn around and give them something special! #Of course going over this I realized just how much I write in one setting and how big my stories can be now and again. #I had to trim a lot of fat and think of the best possible scene to put into this without it turning into ten thousand words of hurt/comfort. #It still wound up becoming quite big -- but hopefully it's a good kind of big. #In any case I want to thank you again for taking the time to give me this message lovely Anon! #You're always the best and I super appreciate you! #I have several other questions still to get to in my askbox but I'm slowly but surely getting around to them! #Thanks so much for the continued support and the patience my dudes~ #I always adore and love you guys! ♥ #Thanks for reading!

[talldarkandroguesome]

3rd of Sun’s Height, Tirdas

Tel came to see me last night, apparently after working out some deal with Qau-dar for jewelry. I was having a lovely chat with Sera Maglan, trying to see if there was a way that we could work together on a performance. She wants to try dancing with some flaming sword to music and I have been crafting her a song to suit her tastes and style of dance best. We have even talked about my being the one to set the swords on fire during the act for added effect.

Then over comes Tel with a bit of a perturbed look upon his face. He had a question for me about Ta’agra, so I told him I would answer if I could.

Apparently, Qau-dar had been calling him trevan without him ever knowing. Better still, Qau-dar told Tel he would tell him what it meant for 3 gold, then when Tel agreed, left him with a riddle!

I could not help but be mirthful as Tel told his sad tale. Such a clever joke to play. How could I not continue the merriment?

I told Tel I knew what it meant, but wouldn’t it be more fun to make a game out of the explanation. So we decided on a bet at a game of cards. I knew that Tel would object should I push for any large prizes, he complained enough as it was. But I finally got him to settle on keeping his mouth shut for a lie I tell, just one time, in the future. I swear, that mer is so stubborn! It’s not like I was asking him to murder a child if I won.

Still, I was planning to let things go until I had amassed several such favors. I am not a master card player, but I usually do rather well. Yet the gods did not smile upon me this time. I can’t believe Tel managed to win with a ten string! And how, in a full deck of cards, did I only manage to have an eight string as my highest? And once we had played that round, Tel had no interest in continuing.

So I explained to him it simply meant friend. It seemed as though I had slapped him across the face, the strangled noise that he made. It was awful. You’d have thought his brother had betrayed him and come at him with a great sword. Oh wait, I didn’t make that much noise when it happened to me.

Apparently Tel was very hurt that Qau-dar didn’t yet think of them as friends. I almost didn’t believe Tel, but he can be so emotionally sensitive about the idea of friendship. I explained that all Qau-dar knows of him so far, is that I met Tel at a party where we were both so drunk we were stripped of everything and dumped in a lake, that Tel ranted about being in Coldharbor, which only made Qau-dar question if Tel were touched by Sheogorath, and that Tel insulted little Khes, then tried to buy his favor.

It’s little wonder with such a short time since those very vivid first impressions, that someone who is easy to take offense might not yet be ready to accept an unknown as friend. Tel seemed to accept this explanation, but continued to appear saddened by the revelation, logical or not. 

We talked on other topics as I tried to keep Tel from thinking of it. The mer seems so lost and out of place here. I wish he would just relax and enjoy life for a moment. Likely he need to share an intimate hour or two with one of the Den’s professional entertainers. Or even me. Something to help him wind down. He is so high strung right now, I fear we may soon see smoke coming from his nostrils.

When Tel decided to wander back off, I went and sought out Qau-dar. He was busy teaching little Khes, so I asked him what I could do to help and he offered to teach me. I admit, it took a lot of instruction from him to get my wrist position correct. It’s a different style of holding your writing instrument than I am used to with Dunmeri calligraphy. Much less distance between your hand and the page. It’s more up close and personal.

Once the lesson was concluded, I spoke to Qau-dar of new earrings, making sure to tell him how much I missed the beautiful ones that he had made for me before. I told him how sorry I was for being foolish enough to lose one of my most dear possessions. Qau-dar offered me to choose from pairs of his own and newer ones as well.

I was probably asking too much, but I requested that he be the one to pick which pair suited me best, since he had done so with the previous pair and I wished to continue the sentimental value of such a gift.

We also joked about a new piercing. Apparently it has relevance to your age in Khajiiti society, which I had not known for certain before. He forwent a new piercing for now. It makes me wonder though. Where would he pierce next? The nose? Higher upon the ear? Someplace else entirely? I am curious.

The earrings he gave me are such a beautiful, bright red. And how appropriate that they should look much like some of the tropical flowers around us after receiving them here in the Green.

If only my hair were longer, they would be even more beautifully set off with my black locks behind them. I am sure my hair will grow back soon enough. It’s only taken my whole life to maintain long hair.

I wish that Qau-dar was willing to be intimate with me. I know he likely cannot with his spouses and that he may not find me to his tastes. Just, things felt so much like the old days again! That closeness, the interactions that leave me wondering if he has any attraction to me as well. I think our friendship would deepened as a result of sharing that side of ourselves.

Perhaps there is simply a loneliness that persists. That hollow feeling, so cold, in the center of my being, certainly does not help. I need someone to warm the core of who I am. The kind people of the Den can do much for me, but they have done little to fill that void. And probably nothing but my soul can.

I wish Nabine was here with me. She always knew just what to do to knock me out of these kinds of moods. Usually with her hand or lashes. I wonder how she may have changed now that she has children. Is she a softer, more gentler, Nabine? Or is she twice as fiery and fierce?

I need a drink and some company. Maybe a party. Yes, I should have a party. Or maybe go and bother Ulyn. I need something fun.

#ESO #TES #Dunmer #Khajiit #Bosmer #RP #Elder Scrolls Online #The Elder Scrolls

[prettycooregrey]

So after setting up a 100+ plugin modlist for Raka, I started their official Skyrim SE run with SkygerfalI. This is really long. Like, really really long. And it’s packed with spoilers, so my fingers are crossed that the cut works on mobile because otherwise I am so, SO sorry to mobile users.

Links: Legendary - Special Edition

What a hell of a mod. It was so much easier to swallow than Daggerfall proper, I’ll give it that! For one, the 3D map in Daggerfall drives me batty. I can’t read it at all, and the samey graphics in every dungeon make them really hard to navigate. For another, Daggerfall notably averts the “take your time” trope where players are allowed to fuck off and do whatever they want while the main quest stays politely paused in the background - almost every single quest is timed, and exceeding the time limit is an automatic fail. It’s possible to lock yourself out of the main quest this way.

Thankfully, the Skygerfall mod recreates all the main quest dungeons with a significantly more helpful Skyrim-style local map. The mod page describes the dungeons as hand crafted, and... well, I’d personally describe it as LOVINGLY put together. The attention to detail is exquisite, and it absolutely feels like a recreation of the dungeons. In fact, it’s so carefully and thoroughly remade that for the most part, the original walkthroughs on UESP came in handy for the few places I got stuck (ahem... Direnni Tower). There’s so many twisting corridors, right angles, and those big huge pyramid-esque centerpieces. My unabashed favorites are the little diagonal rooms hidden within other small rooms, tucked into corners in and of themselves. My own playthrough of Daggerfall made me look forward to those spaces as good places to rest or find loot.

There is not much going on outside the cities or dungeons though! Since it was, for the most part, a single dev putting the whole thing together in their spare time, it’s just the main quest. Even the main towns are largely empty, save for tavern owners (who act as general good merchants), a blacksmith in Daggerfall proper, and any NPCs directly related to the main questline. Ironically, Scourg Barrow is one of the most populated places in the entire game, if only by volume of nonhostile NPCs! The palaces also have merchants and guards around, and there’s a... cheerful little kid over at Wayrest who would love to meet your Agent.

That means no questlines for any of the side factions, very few extra merchants to buy your high volume of crap (though you wont actually need more than one or two at a time), no side dungeons to explore, and nothing in the landscape between the map markers. There’s not even any generic NPCs to populate the towns, and almost no interiors.

Still, it’s entirely worth playing, if you want the basic runthrough of Daggerfall’s main quest in a familiar, modern engine. Particular props goes to some of the scenery and levels. Where there’s very little going on outside of your quest targets, the places that have been built are stunning. Shedungent’s exterior in specific enchanted me, looking exactly like a medieval castle with plenty of nooks and crannies to poke into (though no loot, unfortunately... not that I need any extra with how much garbage I haul out of those dungeons). Another particular detail that I loved were... pigs, actually. I loved the pigs. There’s a few dungeons that contain pigs, which existed in Daggerfall.

I love them. They’re darling.

I dunno, the fact that Oracus0 put so much time and effort into making sure that Skygerfall was a true to the original as possible, down to the animals passively hanging out, really brought me into it. Sure, I wish there weren’t giant scorpions in any game ever, but I can also appreciate that since they were in the original, they were there in Skygerfall (and that they dropped a Raka certified safe alchemical ingredient). And who doesn’t get excited when they see the loot pile model tucked behind a locked door?

I also ADORED - spoiler alert - Aetherius, which turned the game into a full-fledged puzzle platformer. Note to anybody playing through the Room of Fire? You can and will fall off if you’re not careful! But the scenery there is also gorgeous, with a stunning backdrop of swirling stars and galaxies, hellfire, and a wonderfully dapper Sheogorath (whose voice actor does a great job, by the way, of holding true to Sheogorath’s canon voice).

Bonus points for having (and I must emphasize) FULL VOICE ACTING. Every NPC available in the game has a voice. All of the custom NPCs have custom voice acting, and every voice actor did a real bang up job. There wasn’t a single character I encountered whose voice didn’t match them.

It’s also way more... cartoony? Than Skyrim, and it shows a lot in places where custom and vanilla 3D assets were used right next to each other. There’s a lot of blocky, and almost plastic-y walls, floors, sconces, etc that made some of the rough-and-tumble stuff stick out, but it’s not actually enough to take you out of the game unless you’re a really picky bastard imo. It works really well for being a faithful recreation of Daggerfall, which looked like... well. This:

I had a habit of taking pictures of any cool animals I saw in Daggerfall, especially if I haven’t seen them in TES before. Speaking of this awesome camel picture, not to fear if you’re worried about hauling all your crap out of the dungeons like I am (my partner has a hard time watching me play Skyrim with the way I lug out everything that isn’t nailed down to hawk later)...

There’s a mount waiting for you near Sentinel!

...(: That’s right. You get a camel. No need to buy it, it’s not tagged as theft (as of 11/12/19, a little under a month post initial release). It works exactly like a horse - hop on and it’ll help you bounce between map markers, even if you’re overencumbered by several hundred pounds of loose swords, gemstones, potions, and your enemies’ underwear. It looks AMAZING, and though you kind of clip through his hump a little bit, it’s again not really an issue unless you’re overtly picky.

The only thing I absolutely cannot stand is... mythril.

Mythril in this mod is... blue. The armor is gray, but the weapons and shield are blue. Not a silver blue or a dark slate blue in the way you’d expect from something metallic. No, I’m talking about Hawaiian Punch Blue Typhoon, I’m talking blue raspberry Airheads, I’m talking about Lapis lazuli from Minecraft and/or Steven Universe, Cornflower Blue Crayola, “her cerulean orbs” fuckin BLUE. That was the ONLY thing that really stuck in my craw. Raka is an archer, but in the event of an emergency they dual-wield daggers and for a period the best one I had on hand aside from the ebony dagger was mythril and I hated it. I resented it. Every time Raka had to get into close quarters I grumbled with distaste as soon as that goddamn Manic Panic deep dream knife popped out on my screen. I replaced it with adamantium as soon as I was able to.

Everything else was copacetic! As with the set dressing, a lot of the custom armor and weapons were kind of cartoony and might stick out in Skyrim proper, but they’re pretty charming in that way. If for no other reason than collection purposes, I took one of everything with me to Skyrim at the end of the questline with the intent to maybe display it in one of Raka’s player homes. Especially the adamantium, which out of everything fits in the best with vanilla Skyrim’s assets (as far as I can tell, don’t quote me on that, please!).

Again, it’s a very lovingly made tribute to the original game, with a lot of time and effort put into it. A lot of modder resources were used in order to achieve this end, and what an end it is. For all of the places where there might be criticism, it’s still a fantastic piece of work that deserves a lot of praise and appreciation, especially since it was largely a single dev working and learning by themselves to put it together. It’s still hours of content to work through, having taken me about 4 days to get through via my playstyle, even when it primarily involved jumping between map markers and delving into dungeons. God only knows I’d have never gotten to the actual main quest of Daggerfall in the original engine, and likely not even in Daggerfall Unity, as I was too busy messing around, getting headaches from the procedurally generated dungeons, and trying to climb the ranks of the Mage’s Guild and Thieves Guild. Not to say that that isn’t a fun and completely valid way to play the game. But Skygerfall allowed me to play through the actual main quest, kept me engaged with voiced characters and a streamlined series of events, and a thorough and faithful recreation.

A lot of people mentioned wanting more stuff between the towns and cities currently in the mod, but personally, going forward, I’d love to see what already exists be expanded. I’d love to see more shop interiors, some generic NPCs to chat with or ask about rumors from (or even just to fill out the space! I’m not picky!), and maybe some basic structure for some of the guilds.

That being said, it’s still a complete mod in and of itself. It has all the components anyone could reasonably ask for. It has its dungeons, it has its armors and weapons, it has custom spells, potions, and ingredients. It makes use of monsters from the Mihail mods, populating the underground with lots of scary and lore-appropriate foes to fight. It has very little to explore outside of that, but still offers a LOT, and I was able to enjoy the main quest of Daggerfall in a way that was comfortable and easily playable for myself, which is more than can be said for the clunky DOS the original game is built in. I would not be mad if Oracus0 decided to close it up, call it good, support bugs for a while, and moved on. They’ve done plenty in the way of Skygerfall, and though I’d love to see more I’m also incredibly happy with what I got! I’m pleased as punch, got to roleplay my little idiot moron bosmer in their original context, and then was able to seamlessly integrate them into the world of Skyrim (via Live Another Life, which is supported by Skygerfall) to enjoy the rest of their modlist. I can’t recommend it enough, especially if you want to get a feel for Daggerfall with some of the comfort and convenience of a better engine and less stingy limitations.

#tes #daggerfall #skyrim #mods #skyrim mods #daggerfall mods #ian plays: daggerfall #ian plays: skyrim #chatterbox.txt #oc: raka

[altairattorney]

[SHIVERING ISLES/OBLIVION] Moebius

Have you heard the story of the Dragon God?

Between Oblivion and Skyrim, two centuries go by; in their own way, they pass for Sheogorath, too. A complex story, dense with theories, possibilities and headcanons discussed with @renmorris, regarding the fate of Champion!Sheo and his memories. I hope you will appreciate the result of our conversations!

Hey! Wake up, silly. No time to horse around. Wake up!

I... I am not sleeping.

You say so, lazy bones. Don’t you know not answering is rude? Who are you?

Haha! What are you asking for? I’m you! And maybe your horse, too. Can't promise anything. 

You are not me. You’re a voice in my head. Why won’t you stop? 

Not very polite, are we? What else to expect from a farmer, bah! Never forget, little mortal, you are your own best friend.

In the Nine’s name, what is going on? Get out of my head right now!

Ah, the Nine, yes? Not so fast, silly. We aren’t getting there anytime soon. But drop that fork, the fields can wait. No time for trifles like that. You must take care of what is really important.

Like what?

Like the beginning! The start of it all. Have you heard the story of the Dragon God?

*

An old farmer of Kvatch is found dead, barefoot and frozen by the night. A stolen snowdrop hangs from his hand. When the Skingrad sentinel turns him around, she realizes he was starving, and still he crawled towards the Imperial City. * Ocato, my old friend. Long time no see! I never heard your voice in my life. Where are you from? What liar god are you?

Nuh-uh, not like that. The first rule is, never underestimate me. Are we clear? Altmer know better than interfering with what they ignore.

If only that were true, Ocato dear. Your buffoon brothers wreak havoc upon the world, and you have the guts to say so? What are you talking about? Ah, mortal friend, my mistake. Forgive me. Way too soon! The Dragon flies in circles, you see. He spirals up and down. Easy to get lost. You know-it-alls believe his flight is straight? Ha! You are dead wrong! Or maybe just dead, where I am. Hahaha!

Whatever I am worth, I recognize the borders my mind cannot tread. O Daedra, you speak of Auri-El, and with such things mortals mustn’t meddle. Please, let me walk my path freely. But of course, it suits you. Young, yet ambitious as you will always be. Go meet your future. Just a thought... have you considered Cyrodiil, perhaps? * He is in the Temple of the One when the dagger flashes gold, to mirror the torches and the fear in his eyes. Unable to react, Ocato sheds blood on the claws of the Dragon. His last memory is the whisper, the voice which led him here so long ago; and for a moment, a mystery to himself, he wonders where Sheogorath may have disappeared to. *

Help me... Oh! So it was you who called me. Funny for someone else to be around. It never is too crowded nowadays... it didn’t use to be, at least. How can I be of assistance, little mortal? Whoever you are. Please, help me. It’s... unbearable... What’s that, friend? Is it about the yellow skins? Well, cannot pretend I don’t inspire them, but... overdoing it a little, aren’t they? Oh, it is you... I beg you, serjo, make my mind numb. I have no care for the n’wahs and their gods. I care for my life. Why do they torture me?

Am I what you truly need? I see you in the Temple, after all. What do you believe in, son?

I have no idea what I believe in. I don’t want to die. Help me...

I don’t want to die, either. Laughing is so much better! Isn’t it? I don’t want you to die. Or me! I don’t want him to die, either. What, then? What can I do?

Ah...

Yes, laugh! Laugh like your mind does. Yes, like that. Maybe...

...

Then... it... there was nothing I could do, little mortal.

...

I’m sorry. * They are collected in the Temple, or what remains of it. Among the debris, the statue stands intact; Masser glimmers on its marble, enhancing its shine with blood spilt by the Thalmor. There, it has been decreed, the executions must take place. Wings open to protect -- useless effort -- shield a Dunmer severed head, with many others.

* What do you think Paradise feels like, o Mankar? You... you are not my Lord. Get thee gone, foul parasite Daedroth. It would be nice, wouldn’t it, Lord Mankar. To play around with things you cannot even begin to comprehend as you would play skull-ball. Which is nicer than it sounds, by the way! Care for a game? In your head? You can drive me mad if you like, Daedroth. That will not stop my plans. Oh, I know, cheesecake. I know most things about you and your arrogance. I know most things about us, too. Why I am here, maybe not that? Anyway, never mind. It is a warning I bring you, Mankar. So be it. Speak, disgusting fiend. Those little plans? Do reconsider. ‘Cause if you don’t, I will walk backwards. I am good at that. Paradise or not, I will dig you out of your rathole. And then, when I find you... haha! Hahahaa! ... Then... I will kill you.  * The agony of his slit throat doesn’t keep him from remembering. The glint of this puny man’s blade has an echo of future -- the trace of something he never lived through, something he may be bound to meet. When the last slash pierces through him, in fire, Mankar Camoran sees yellow eyes.

*

Haskill! Hey, Haskill! What are you doing in my head? Nothing of importance, my Lord. Checking on your health... as per our agreements. Oh, come on, no no no. What did I tell ya, brainy brains? Not before half a man’s life of silence. You promised... Sire, it has been longer than that. Way longer.

It has? Oh, Haskill, you joker. I live to serve, my Lord. You trust me, don’t you? It has...? May I offer you my humble advice, Lord Sheo- -- yadda yadda, yes, sure. Cut it with the formalities already! I... yes, sire. So... how about a vacation, my Lord? Hahaha! Hahahahaha! You sure are something, brain pie. On vacation? Me? With my favorite beach sunk in ashes and lava? Not necessarily, my Lord. Another space, another time? Or both. Believe me, you need to leave all this behind. This what? I -- I don’t know, sire. But if you do... maybe you’ll find a replacement.

*

The Madgod leaves with an oblivious smile. So lost he is, he doesn’t even notice his journey was already prepared. Left alone, Haskill turns his gaze to the Isles as a whole, with the weight of their next Interregnum entirely on his shoulders. 

He walks to the throne. By his side follow the words left unspoken; for whenever he tried to fill the chasm, entwining what Sheogorath remembers and what Sheogorath believes he does, a blast of fury silenced half of Oblivion. 

May this be the right time, Haskill's memories whisper to him. For his sake.

*

Glad to see me, Pelagius dear? What would you like to hear, Lord Sheogorath? The only possible answer, my dear. Of course! Unless you want your intestines out.

Of course, of course. What brings you here today? Vacation, Pelagius. Vacation! When Haskill needs some space... you know how it is. An-noying! But I owe him, after all. And I was tired... sort of...

Heavy duties. Such is your life, but mine too, my Lord. I have important matters to take care of, and --

My life, eh. My life... which one? When we walked around the perimeter, under the stars? When we fancied of what could be -- or what was already, in the spaces between our fingers? My Lord... well... Tell me, Pelly, is it you I’m looking for? Eh. I couldn’t say. I guess we shall find out together. What a delightful idea, my friend. Now, here’s what I call a real sensible person. Care for some tea?

*

In a dingy asylum, cramped where the afternoon still throws a shadow, what is left of Pelagius hides from the outer world. His head hangs low, his mouth open. He emptied his stare of all meaning two days before. A crash, blood, and the touch of cold tea. A grunt. His mind rearranges itself in convulse paths. By the time the maid rushes to his cell, to step on shattered china and a broken tray, Pelagius’ eyes are blank. She touches his wrist to find him as he is -- a corpse, at long last cured of his madness.

*

Hey, Dragon Kin. Or whatever they call you. Remember me? Haha! It was a joke, I don’t really care if you do. You sleep soundly, for a savior of the world. 

What about you, then? Have you heard the story of the Dragon God?

Duh, there is no time. You’re too sleepy to talk, I’ll do it in your stead. I was wrong, you know? All wrong. For so long. It wasn’t the gadget, oh no, nothing come from the outside. It was within him all along. Sad stories end soon. The thing splits his chest open, it turns him inside out, body and everything. The calling of his blood, his birth? His origin? Regardless, he was doomed to return where he came from. It is not funny. But listen, when I think of this, Dov, I laugh even less. The thing is, that wasn’t just the story of the Dragon God. It was mine too, a long time ago. Many times over. I was the outline of the circle, and also the point where it begun and ended. Trapped in his flight I was, I say, from my realm. And now that, again, his scales flow smoother than clouds, I feel him curl around that broken cycle.

Wake up, half-mortal. Wake up, I say. That is an order! You sent by the Dragon, you of all people, must know -- 

if he embraces me, why can’t I touch him?

#Sheogorath #Haskill #Martin Septim #Champion of Cyrodiil #Oblivion #Shivering Isles #Shivering fanfiction

[blueclock3000]

Caretakers of the Emperor

By Sicilian Oravarian

[In 3E 389 the wicked mage, Jagar Tharn, ensnared Uriel Septim VII’s form onto his own and sent the Emperor to Oblivion. While the prison was of Jagar Tharn’s design, it was vulnerable yet to the influence of Princes who dominated the realm. This text documents the meeting of the unholy royalty and their concerns of what to do to their new guest.]

“Give me his asshole.” Molag Bal grabbed one of his servants and sent their head into pieces against his table. “There is much to do with a Septim but a little reminder of the forces he has mingled and barter with is in order first.”

LET’S KILL HIM! It’d be so easy just bash Bash BASH his skull in! COME ON! Just do it!

Mehrunes Dagon was never raised properly and thus didn’t know how to quote his words. Peryite’s many claws rapped against the chair his serpentine form curled around. The chaos and cacophony of these meetings always riled him up and it came to be expected that every few meetings he would explode into insanity much like his kin.

“Order, I say, order!” He chimed. Peryite rested his head as his temper fumed.

“Give me that royal ass! Aren’t you sickened by the violating hands of mortals slithering into our realm and taking our servants? I say we violate them back.” The Prince who said this needs no identification. He turned over to the woman quietly scrying far across the table. “And what are you up to, Azura? You secretive bitch!”

Hermaeus Mora slithered by, his casual negligence of his tentacles and their proximity to bodies giving Molag Bal a much arousing shiver.

“Vivec?” He cried out in desperate want.

Azura burst into laughter.

“Your lover is still struggling to maintain power in his faux temples. Don’t worry, I’m quite certain you and him shall see each other again.”

“I’ll rape you! I’ll rape all of you!”

“Order! Nothing gets done if everyone is just shouting what they want!”

“You’re shouting you want order.” Azura said as her second self spoke whispers upon dying sun rays to her servants far away.

“Yes, but what I want is best for all.” Peryite hissed.

“Azura.” Groaned out Mora. “Perhaps you and I shall discuss Morrowind. I have schedules with a certain part of it, if all works out accordingly. Shall we see if there’s any conflicts….or rather,” His voice dragged into a malevolent growl. “How far you intend to influence it.”

The sudden stink of wet swine and carcass invaded the room and all but Malacath quivered at the intense rancid mist only a Prince of dying animals could marinate and concoct.

“Morrowind, we speak? What business have any of you with it?” Hircine said.

“Far more than a mere hunt.” Mora replied.

“Technically you want Solstheim, idiot.” Azura said. “Keep that filthy isle. It’ll make a great dumping ground for your hogs and dogs. So please tell them to stop defecating on the meeting floor!”

Malacath rose out his seat and slammed his hand against the table.

“Stop oppressing his personality!!”

Sanguine’s mind found its way through the intoxicated fog.

“We should think of how to care for the Emperor. Uriel knows the pleasures of life and beyond, let’s at least be gracious hosts for a while.”

“If it’s sustenance he needs…” Namira gracefully but with quick purpose uncurtained her left breast, revealing a mushroom infested rot lump quivering with the release of new age pus, “…let’s give him a taste. They say in strife a man may find his star.”

Sanguine’s cheeks ballooned with a torrent of vomit, only withdrawn with hesitation and reminders of his drinks the night before.

Throw my lands into CHAOS! THE EMPIRE IS DESTINED TO FALL AS ARE ALL THINGS! I refuse to rest until we usurp the throne and GIVE ME WHAT IS MINE!!

A xivali risked it and whispered into the ear of his lord, reminding him of their meddlings in Nirn and the long term benefits. Suddenly the disappearance of Uriel Septim VII seemed to work just perfectly.

I WITHDRAW MY DEMANDS. PROCEED AS YOU WISH. I AM PLEASED.

The moving flow of stars left Azura’s eyes as she snapped to Dagon.

“What does that mean? What are you scheming?”

NOTHING. STATEMENTS WITHDRAWN FROM I. ONLY APATHY TOWARDS THIS MADNESS.

“Bullshit!” Azura screamed. “You monkey-looking maniac, what are your plans? Give them to me!”

Molag folded his arms and chuckled heartily.

“You plot too? I’ve got my eyes and servants on your vampiric hordes!”

“I’ll have my vampiric hordes on your servants as well.”

“Fucker dick! I’ll have a little surprise for your boyfriend.”

“Taking a male form are we?”

“Now why would I want to make you insecure?”

“God….damn…” Sanguine muttered through his pants. “The banter…”

Meridia hummed to herself as the outline of her form danced through many colors and lights. Peryite had used them to comfort his mind until he realize there was no pattern to them after spending half an hour thinking there was. It only swelled his stress. The maiden of lights just watched as others spoke, keeping note on Mehrunes Dagon and his sudden satisfaction.

Clavicus Vile had spent the whole meeting uttering conflicting information to pin the Princes against each other but none had cared to listen. Despite Sanguine’s invitation to a meeting afterparty, Vile proceeded back to his realm to listen to music and ponder if he had lost his touch.

“Why do you all fret so wearily?” Yawned out Mephala. “Is it not enough the Empire has been deceived by a falsehood, a falsehood that this Jagar Tharn will be unable to keep up? He’s a sneak with no knowledge of how to rule. With patience we shall see the Empire tear itself apart.”

“Death to evil!” Yelled out a paladin as he leapt upon the center of the table. “By the Nine I see all the vileness of all the worlds at conference! You fools! You merely line your heads for an execution!”

“ENOUGH!!!” Peryite shrieked as he slid onto the table, wrapped himself around the paladin and vomited cancerous surges down his throat. The paladin’s body erupted piece by piece into blood plops and infested meats.

“Whoa ho ho! Sick!” Molag Bal laughed as he pulled up to the edge of his seat.

For Sanguine this was hilarious but with the upset caused by Namira’s prior exhibition, it was the last straw. He later stood in a two foot hill of his own upheave.

“Boethiah doesn’t even bother showing up but she sends her pranks!” Peryite shouted. “ORDER I DECLARE! BAGAWK! ORDER!!” He span his head wildly in circles as Meridia slid over to talk to Dagon, as Namira began to produce lewd and putrid juices while darkness overwhelmed her among the vomit - which pile of vomit is up to you - while Nocturnal stood as she did since the beginning and waited for the ramblings and initial madness to exhaust itself to only incredibly irritating levels. She could exert her status and speak truths of the void but that cannot be withered in use. Namira knew of Nocturnal’s presence, which stirred her lewdness in the first place.

“Shut the fuck up!” Azura yelled as she hurled an ebony moon AND a star at the dragon. Peryite’s temporary fray into insanity had already expended itself in the taking of a life so he took the blunt damage as a reminder to maintain himself and returned to his seat. He left the tumor vomit corpse as punishment.

"What takes Nocturnal so long?" asked Azura.

Molag Bal whipped out his menacing rod and smiled as the narrative was now forced to use unpleasant innuendos.

“Yeah, where is she? I wouldn’t mind a threesome with you and her.”

Sheogorather blurred his form as his torso leaned in 45 degrees to the cloaked and despicably fragrant Prince of Nightmares. The blur was to hide or perhaps make notice of his legs remaining strictly upright. Lips popped in and out in a bubble fashion about Vaermina’s head, whispering plots. She took heed of each as she held her sharp chin in thought.

“Tell me your voices on this, Mad Prince. Nightmares for one long stayed in Oblivion will only seem like the anxieties of one in a crime ridden village. Horror awaits in memories of a world far kinder growing more distant away.”

Sheogorath nodded before jerking his neck abruptly and collapsing on the ground. A Sheogorath from within the corpse emerged, ripping through the carcass as if it were paper. The mouths around Vaermina’s head whispered in fear as they beheld the display. The new Sheogorath stepped out of his corpse like a man at last ready to attend the ball. He rolled the corpse into a paper ball and tossed it to the side. The mouths parted, allowing a silent one in the back to fly onto the featureless jaw of the Mad Prince, cracking a growing smile as it glided through the air.

“Old ideas scrapped, Vaermina!” His golden eyes sharpened. “This dream business has a lot more potential than what those deviled eggs over there are cooking up! I say, why torture the man any further? Give him pleasant sanity from these wonderful waters.”

“Help the Emperor? You’ve intrigued me before, I thought you’d be pleased with another Pelagius.”

“Bitch, please.” He chuckled. “Pelagius is more than one Pelagius as far as he and I are concerned. Besides, the Septim’s head is already a festival. The Divines speak to him, what’s another friendly voice? That Tharn lad has given us gold here. In the Septim’s time of need he will find new loyalty in wondrous dreams, loyalty that will carry over once he returns to Mundus.”

Vaermina’s brow jolted to join the wrinkles above.

“You speak of others but what are you concocting, Sheogorath?”

“A new kind of future for Tamriel. I say we proceed with Love, shall we?”

[thomasroach]

Elder Scrolls Online Elsweyr: 6 Biggest Changes

The post Elder Scrolls Online Elsweyr: 6 Biggest Changes appeared first on Fextralife.

In this Elder Scrolls Online article we’re going to be taking a look at some of the bigger changes coming to the MMO, along with some of the smaller ones. Elsweyr releases in just a few days, and we’d be remiss if we didn’t give you a heads up of what’s in store. We have not covered Class changes in this, and these will be covered by a separate article, since there are simply too many to list here. So, keep your eyes out for that while we fill you in on the changes coming with Elsweyr.

Elder Scrolls Online Elsweyr: 6 Biggest Changes

The first of the major changes to the game probably comes as no surprise since it’s been advertised all over the place, and that is the addition of Necromancers to ESO. Players will finally get to summon undead and use the forces of darkness to aid Tamriel.

1. New Class – Necromancer

The Necromancer Class features 3 new Skill Lines: Grave Lord, Bone Tyrant and Living Death, and these are their DPS, Tanking and Healing lines respectively. Though this Class is not a “Minion Master” type of Necromancer that maybe some players wanted, you can summon at least 1 undead at a time and use corpses to further enhance your spells, some of which use the undead in unexpected ways.

In addition, practicing necromancy in Tamriel is a criminal act. In most cases, mages caught casting necromantic spells can feign ignorance or insist that the spell originates from a different school of magic. Some spells, however, are too horrific to overlook, and any necromantic ability marked as a “CRIMINAL ACT” is a major crime, and will offend the locals and alert the guards. You can see what these are in your Skill list or on the Wiki.

This Class will only be available to players who purchase the Necromancer expansion, and much like the Warden (at the launch of Morrowind), all early indications are that it will be very powerful at launch. Prepare for the rise of the Necromancer, as you see them spring to life all over Tamriel, including Cyrodiil. This brings us to our next topic: PvP.

2. PvP Artifacts

PvP Artifacts have finally made their way to Cyrodiil in ALL campaigns. These legendary Weapons will replace your entire skill bar with a brand new set of Skills, and your stats will be adjusted accordingly as you become the living embodiment of these Weapons. These will spawn in Cyrodiil 4 or 5 times a day, but whether or not they will make their into Battlegrounds remains to be unseen, however it seems unlikely.

Players will have a small tutorial explaining these weapons led by none other than Sheogorath at each Alliance stater gate (where quest boards are located). There players will learn that you must keep feeding these weapons Alliance Points (repairing structures or resurrecting other players doesn’t count) or else the power of the weapon will drain your life, killing your character.

Currently only Volendrung has been added to the game, but more are expected to be added with future Updates, all containing their own unique Skills.

3. Cyrodiil Campaign Adjustments

All currently-existing campaigns will be shut down once Elsweyr launches, and will be replaced with entirely new ones. In keeping with the Season of the Dragon, Zenimax will be introducing 6 brand new campaigns with some additional rules added, all named after Dragons. These are as follows:

Bahlokdaan: 30 Day No Champion Points & Alliance Locked

Kaalgrontiid: 30 Day Champion Points Enabled & Alliance Locked

Yolnahkriin: 7 Day Champion Points Enabled

Mulaamnir: Levels 10-49

Imperial City: No Champion Points

Imperial City: Champion Points Enabled

Alliance Locked Campaigns are a new style of Campaign that’s only being applied to 30 day variants. In these Campaigns, each account will only be able participate with, and represent, a single Alliance for the duration of the Campaign. This means no more switching between alts that belong to different factions if you don’t like how the map looks.

There are two methods of locking in your Alliance for a Campaign. In both cases, Alliance selection is determined by the Alliance of the character you are currently logged in with. Method 1: Assign a “home” Campaign in the Alliance War menu. Method 2: Enter Cyrodiil on a Campaign you’ve not previously joined. Once you’ve locked in your Alliance, only characters of the same Alliance on your account will be allowed to enter Cyrodiil in that Campaign.

There is no option to change your locked Alliance until the Campaign duration has elapsed. Multiple in-game notifications have been added to warn you when you’re about to join an Alliance-locked Campaign. Campaigns not flagged with the “Alliance locked” rule set remain unchanged. Any character above level 10 from any Alliance can play in those Campaigns at any time.

Imperial City is now its own Campaign and the doors in Cyrodiil have been shut down and no longer work. To get into Imperial City, you simply use the Campaign selection menu. You’ll end up in the Sewers just as if you had entered from Cyrodiil. Note that Imperial City now has its own population cap (including the Sewers and Districts) which is now removed from Cyrodiil’s population caps. Rejoice!

Guest Campaign will no longer exist as a status, so you no longer need to manage your “guest” Campaign and are now free to play in any Campaign at will. Note that a Home Campaign status is still needed for earning Leaderboard rewards at the end of Campaigns and participating in Emperorship leaderboards. Emperor Leaderboards have also been adjusted. Once you have served as Emperor in a Campaign, you cannot be crowned as an Emperor for a different Alliance for the rest of that Campaign’s duration.

A few other miscellaneous Cyrodiil changes are as follows:

Melee guards will no longer use Bash or Power Bash.

The roof of “cathedral” style Keeps can no longer be destroyed, such as Bloodmayne.

Towers can no longer be destroyed.

Siege damage in CP-Enabled Campaigns will now hit approximately 30% harder than prior update adjustments. Damage in No-CP Campaigns remains the same.

4. Guild Finder

Guild leaders now have the ability to list their guild within the Guild Finder, a new tool for connecting players to like-minded guilds. A new section is present within the Guild menu for Recruitment. Here, a guild leader can fill out information about their guild, as well as include a custom headline and a guild description. Once they’ve provided enough information, they can then list their guild in the Guild Finder. Other players within the guild will be able to see their guild’s listing while it is active as well.

If you’re looking for a guild, you can now access the Guild Finder within the guilds menu, located below the list of any guilds you may be currently in. From here, you can browse by multiple different types of guilds and filter down potential matches by several additional criteria. Once you’ve found a guild that looks like a fit, you can send an application to the guild that includes some basic information about your character and account, as well as the option to include a custom message. Members of a guild with the new “Manage Applications” permission will be able to view and respond to applications. Accepting an application adds the player to your guild, and declining removes their application.

5. Skyshard Achievements for Alternate Characters

Fully completing a Skyshard Hunter achievement on one character will now unlock the ability to purchase that achievement on other characters from the Crown Store. The purchased achievement will award all associated Skillpoints, or any remaining Skillpoints, that your current character has not yet acquired. This is huge because one of the biggest things that prevents players from rolling alts is not the XP needed to reach max level, but the Skillpoint grind. This will give players the option to bypass this all together, albeit for money. Still I’d rather have this option than not, and will probably end up using this on my Necromancer, as I have a ton of Crowns from ESO Plus with nothing to spend them on.

Image taken from PTS, does not reflect updated crown prices

6. Dragons

Lastly, it wouldn’t be the season of the Dragon without actually having Dragons, and now they have finally made their way to Elder Scrolls Online. With the Elsweyr Expansion players will face these terrifyingly huge monstrosities out on the landscape, and they will need all the help they can get to bring them down. Featuring unique mechanics and health pools of 8 figures, Dragons will not be defeated without the help of many players, and they should see tons of action at launch. Imagine Dark Anchors at the release of One Tamriel, but more fun…and with Dragons!

But that’s not the only place players will face them, as they make an appearance in the game’s new Trial: Sunspire, as well. There you will do battle with several Dragons, again all with their own mechanics, and all new Trial Sets as rewards. Team up with 11 other to take them down, in Normal, Veteran, or Hard Mode.

Miscellaneous Changes

In this section we’ll take a look at some miscellaneous changes coming to the game that are somewhat notable and we felt should be shared. These are as follows:

Removed the 200ms post global cooldown from cast time abilities. This was done to improve the feeling of using these abilities in rapid succession with other abilities, to allow for a more fluid transition, and less down time between usage. We also made some adjustments to the cast times and power levels of specific abilities, which will be called out on a per case basis in further notes. Note that channeled beam attacks, such as Soul Assault or Radiant Destruction, retain the post global cooldown, but have had them reduced to 100ms rather than 200ms. This was done to prevent animation errors.

Player abilities that fear targets will no longer cause them to flee in terror. Instead, they will now cower in terror, unable to move while feared. Note that this does not affect abilities that monsters can cast. This should be an interesting change in Cyrodiil to say the least, oil anyone??

All Immobilizes from player abilities and item sets will now apply Immobilization Immunity once applied, to prevent multiple Immobilizes from applying on the same target. Once an Immobilize from these abilities ends, you gain immunity to Immobilizes for 3 seconds after, similar to the Dodge Roll mechanic. Thank god!

Befouled: Reduced the maximum value of this star to 35% from 55%. This was done to allow better balance between Healing bonuses and reductions within the CP system. RIP Befoul…

Decrease Health Enchant (Oblivion damage): Reduced the damage of this enchant by 33%. Probably a needed change.

Dubious Cameron Throne & Witch Mother’s Brew: Reduced the Max Health and Max Resource (Stamina or Magicka) granted by these drinks by approximately 12%. The Recoveries remain unchanged. Damn I have a full stack of Witch Mother’s…

Artaeum Takeaway Broth & Clockwork Citrus Filet: Reduced the Max Health and Max Resource granted by these foods by approximately 15%.

Shield Breaker: Redesigned this item set so it no longer deals damage when you Light Attack a target with a shield active. Now, it increases your damage dealt by 6% at all times. This effect is doubled when attacking targets with a damage shield active. This is a great change and will see a surge of players using this Set.

Removed the snare applied from all abilities that deal with character charges, leaps, teleports, or other movements. Removed all minimum ranges from these abilities. Drastically increased the speed of all of these abilities, and increased their auxiliary effects’ (damage, debuffs, etc.) range to ensure they always apply to their target. Note: Dragon Leap and its morphs are an exclusion to some of these changes. They will continue to fire a snare, which has new visual effects introduced to it. This is due to the fact it cannot be used in quick succession compared to other instant cast abilities. Dragon Leap has had its speed increased as well, but not as drastically, to ensure the visual fidelity remains.

Final Thoughts

These are some pretty big changes to the game, or I should really say improvements. The addition of Guild Finder will be a god send for new players and those who play less frequently, and should help Guilds in general become more active. I fully expect Guild rosters to see a substantial increase, and that’s great news for everyone. Nobody likes being a part of a dead guild, and Guild Leaders can get exhausted from recruiting constantly.

Cyrodiil has also made some great changes, with the addition of character locks for the 30 day campaigns. This prevents some players from just swapping to the character of the faction that’s dominating when things look grim. This should help to keep the longer campaigns more interesting, and with this change (and the the Imperial City change), hopefully decrease queue times to get into them as well.

Removing Guest Campaigns is also a great change, and I’m really looking forward to the increase in Siege damage in CP campaigns. This has been sorely needed for a long long time. What I’m not sold on is the new PvP Artifacts, as there is potential for abuse by factions already dominating. This is something that could go either way, and my guess is that we’ll find out real quick.

With the addition of the Skyshard Achievements carrying over to other characters if you pay in the Crown Store I think you will see many more players trying out new characters. There isn’t an overabundance of things to spend Crowns on if you’re like me and don’t care for all the cosmetics, and this seems like a good use of them. I am sure, however, we will see a few people scream “pay to win” at this addition. It should make for some “interesting” forum discussion to say the least.

Stay tuned as we dive into the Elsweyr Class Changes in detail. There were simply too many to fit in this article, so we decided to cover it separately. Elsweyr releases on PC on May 20th, and Xbox One and Playstation 4 on June 4th, 2019.

The post Elder Scrolls Online Elsweyr: 6 Biggest Changes appeared first on Fextralife.

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