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ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit · 1 year

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The Gang Meets Kaidan

((T for violence, some blood and unpleasant death of unnamed evil guards))

Kaidan awoke still alive, much to his surprise. He'd hoped his captors had given up trying to squeeze blood from a stone and ended it already; he knew nothing, and they knew it. But even when the prison collapsed and most had vacated, a few Thalmor remained behind with him. They were desperate. Desperate for what, he didn't know.

A noise roused him from his thoughts. Whispers, and he thought he heard a chuckle, too.

“Let's see what our prospector here can do.” A dark voice crooned.

Kaidan felt sick, trying to brace himself for another “session.” Rarely did he ever have a moment to prepare.

Strange, though. Usually the guards spoke in Aldmeri unless they were addressing him. What games were they playing this time?

Another voice grunted, and he flinched as he heard the approaching footsteps. He chastised himself for displaying fear like that. He could hear two people now. One was speaking, the other one—a woman?

"Shhh!" she hissed at the others.

No, he thought. Not another woman interrogator. Not like last time... His whole body tensed. An anger filled his arms with a tiny spark of renewed strength.

Go ahead and come closer, he thought. See what happens.

The barred door swung open, and Kaidan dug his nails into his palms, not even looking up to see who had entered. The footsteps stopped. Then there was silence again, except for the sound of breathing.

"Ahem--"

Kaidan lunged at the visitor. “I'll kill you all myself!!”

To his small satisfaction, she stumbled backwards, smacking the stone floor. Good--about time they got acquainted with it for once.

The others snickered.

“Easy there, friend.” one of them spoke in a low voice, and a distinctly non-altmer accent. “We're getting you out of here.”

Kaidan glanced up at his visitors. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he couldn't see any Thalmor robes. That accent, if anything, was closer to Lleyawin. He had never wandered into Elseweyr or Black Marsh, though. But then again, both were under Dominion rule and he wasn't about to forget it.

“Really, now?” He muttered hoarsely.

The one who had approached him sat on the floor, hooded and cast in shadow. She scoffed.

“Really,” a woman near the back of the group reassured him, then chuckled at the other woman on the floor. “C'mon Enid. We'll make sure he won't bite.”

“Feh!” The woman on the floor scrambled to her knees. She slowly approached him, holding up her hands to the lock. “You'd better not,” she growled in Nordic, but he couldn't quite distinguish the accent.

Kaidan froze, unsure if he was surrendering to a fleeting hope that this wasn't some sick Thalmor ploy.

A light erupted from her hands--pale and cold. An all-too-familiar light, as Kaidan's body reacted of its own accord. Thrashing, screaming, kicking, cursing. He bashed his head into hers before she could even react.

Enid crashed back on the floor, and her magelight extinguished. "By the mists!!” She spat.

Kaidan's heart was still hammering as he tried to gain control of his breath.

“Had a time with mages, haven't you?” one of the group commented.

“I'm done!” Enid hissed from the floor, holding her forehead. “He don't like magic? T'row him a lockpick, he can open t'ose locks with his godsdamned feet!”

“Oh, but Prospector, we're dying to see your alteration in action!” the woman from the back said.

“Well, seems he isn't!” Enid thrust a finger at Kaidan.

Kaidan, still catching his breath, searched for her eyes--something he could try to read off of her, but finding no more than the sharp tip of her nose poking from that hood.

“S-sorry...” he managed, feeling humiliated and weak. “Just...a warning, please.”

“Fine, here goes...” she growled. With a snap of a finger, her magelight ignited once more, illuminating her face under the hood. It was a thin, pale face, with tiny pupils and pressed lips. A few curls poked out of a white cap, but there was nothing else to soften her exasperated gaze, nor the angry red lump growing on her forehead.

“So I can see what I'm doing, alright?” She arched her eyebrows and wiggled her fingers around the light. “The rest is just feeling the lock and moving the parts. Shouldn't hurt unless you're made out of brass.”

Kaidan swallowed and nodded, bracing to tolerate any phobias and condescending remarks if it meant seeing daylight again.

She gingerly scooted back up to him, narrowing her eyes at his tensing muscles. Kaidan tried forcing himself to relax with a shuddering sigh.

She leaned over his shoulder and hovered her hand over his left shackle. He could smell the familiar scent of travel--pine, sweat, and a hint of smoke. It stirred a renewed longing for that long-forgotten freedom--freedom which was strangely so close now. He tried not to think of how he must have smelled to her.

Enid hmmed and clicked her tongue, massaging the lock. He glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the group, a couple of which were still snickering.

Kaidan wasn't all too sure about them--four total: A barely leather-clad Nord woman, a small man drowning in furs, someone covered head to toe in Dunmer armor, and what looked to be a blue Khajiit--must've been the dim light playing tricks on his mind--in threadbare hunter's gear.

“Sorry,” the small man in the furs quipped in a high voice. “We're laughing at her, not you.”

“Why?” Kaidan furrowed his brow.

“SHH!” Enid shushed none-too-politely.

The man shrugged at Kaidan.

She resumed her work on Kaidan's shackles, muttering and huffing. Minutes dripped by painfully, with this woman awkwardly bent around him and his filth, with an amused audience. And as far as he could tell, there was no progress.

“Um,” he gingerly turned his head. “Is everyth--?”

She shot him a look that silenced him.

With renewed focus on his shackle, she leaned in closer. “C'mon, c'mon...” she growled, again in Nordic.

He felt a click in the metal.

Kaidan didn't wait for her help to wiggle his wrist from the chafing iron band. Enid swiveled her waist to face their audience.

“Ta-da.” She said flatly, flourishing her hands at them.

“Nice, very nice,” the dunmer sighed. “I'm sure our client will find you valuable.”

“Hmpf,” she turned back to Kaidan, rolling her eyes, and scooted to his other shackle. She was able to free that one a bit faster this time.

“Thank you,” Kaidan sighed, rubbing his chapped wrists.

She replied with a grunt, rocking back on her feet and dusting off her aproned skirt.

“And I'm sorry...” He switched his speech to Nordic.

“Hm?” her head snapped down at him.

Kaidan awkwardly pointed to his forehead. Hers would certainly carry that mark for a few days.

“Oh, t'at.” She frowned, touching her bump. She spoke more quickly and confidently in Nordic, yet he still couldn't pinpoint her accent. “Well, just don't do it again.”

Kaidan chucked for the first time in what felt like an impossibly long time. “Deal.”

The nord woman led the group into the cell and they quickly circled around. “Name's Sofia,” she crooned with a wink.

Kaidan grimaced, unable to recall when he had last had the chance to bathe. “Kaidan,” he nodded.

He flinched at a finger tap to his shoulder. “And I'm Lucien! Pleased to meet ya!” the imperial man chirped.

“Not to interrupt the niceties, but we oughtta move,” the dunmer muttered. “I imagine there might be a stray guard or two.”

“Wait,” Kaidan wobbled on his knees, trying to find the strength to stand. “I know I owe you, and I don't have the right to ask, but they have my sword. I'd like to get it back.”

Enid pressed her lips. “No time.”

“Look,” Kaidan stumbled to his feet, feeling the prison spinning. He grabbed onto the stone wall. “It's not just sentimental. They were after my sword. If it's that important, we don't want the Thalmor having it, right?”

“It's not our job fighting T'almor.” She unlatched a water bottle from her hip, tossing it to Kaidan.

“Oh, prospector!” Lucien piped up again. “Let the poor chap get his sword back!”

“We just got our asses handed to us in those dwemer ruins.” The dunmer grumbled. “Even if I disagreed with the prospector here, we're in no shape to fight Thalmor agents.”

“Speak for yourself, Teldryn!” Sofia grinned, cracking her neck and unsheathing an axe. “At least these so-called high elves are nice and squishy!”

“Squishy, you say!” The khajiit chuckled. “I'm in!”

“Looks like you two are out-voted.” Lucien shrugged at Teldryn, who scoffed. Enid groaned.

“Thanks,” Kaidan croaked before taking a long draft from the waterbottle. “I owe all of you.”

They snuck on through the other side of the cell, Enid at the lead after casting a couple unknown spells. She moved silently, with the khajiit and dunmer close behind, bow and shortsword drawn respectively. Kaidan and Sofia filed right behind them, with the small imperial tailing the group.

“Down that hall,” Kaidan whispered. Up ahead, Enid rounded the first corner of the hallway.

One by one, they followed around the corner. Enid crouched near the next corner, holding up a finger.

Damn, already spotted a guard, it seemed.

“Oh, just one,” Sofia chuckled. “Inigo's a great shot--one hit to the throat and they won't make a--”

“AUGH!” Enid yelped, stumbling and landing on her rump. Something small and fuzzy retreated from her ankle, and Kaidan thought he spied--a porcupine!? He blinked, but his eyes didn't deceive him. The rodent turned back to stand on its hind legs and stare at her.

“Is someone there?” The guard's voice called.

“FUCK!” she hissed, looking down at her white stockings now impaled with several quills.

Enid scowled at the porcupine. Raising her hands, she cast some spell, spinning the creature around. With a squeal, about a dozen quills yanked themselves free from its back, flying to the prospector before hovering around her casting hands.

The guard rounded the corner, right on her now.

She ducked backward, swooping her hands to direct the quills straight into his face.

The guard howled, clutching his face as blood dripped down his cheeks.

Sofia wasted no time jumping past the others and cleaving his head with her axe.

Enid collapsed to the floor, nursing her leg and scowling at the retreating porcupine. “T'at does it! I oughtta pluck and roast you!”

“Aww, he loves you, Prospector! He's been following you all the way from Lake Ilinalta, hasn't he?” Lucien squatted next to the porcupine, who snorted at him and turned its back. “Looked like he was trying to get a good snuggle.”

“Well, maybe it can go love on someone else,” Enid furrowed her brow, gingerly pinching one of the quills and wincing. “Been a literal t'orn in my side...”

With a wet squelch, Sofia extracted her axe from the twitching thalmor guard. “That was alright, hope there's more!”

“No, I get the next one!” Inigo hissed. Under the torchlight of the prison hallway, his fur was indeed blue. Sofia didn't respond, unashamedly pulling out the guard's pockets.

"Damn, just a couple septims,” she tsked.

“F-f-fu....” Enid's hands twitched at the quills, not quite able to steel herself to grab them.

Teldryn sighed, squatting down and yanking them all at once with a flick of the arm.

A pained grunt erupted through her clenched teeth. “That dumb animal...”

“Let's move.” Teldryn had already hopped back to his feet and peered around the corner.

“Sure,” Enid grunted. “Inigo, go ahead.” She nodded at the Khajiit.

As they proceeded, she was content to limp in the back of the group alongside Lucien.

Teldryn moved like liquid. The halls flickered as they moved further into the offices, but no sign of life.

“Hm,” he said, glancing at the room at the end, with the door left ajar. “Seems to be the storage room. Perhaps--”

Kaidan felt a wetness on his bare feet, nearly slipping. Far more slick than water.

Oil.

“WAIT!!” Kaidan called out in horror, but already a lantern plummeted from the ceiling.

Teldryn shoved Sofia and Inigo forward, and Kaidan stumbled back into Enid and Lucien as the lantern crashed onto the floor and an inferno engulfed the dunmer.

“Amateurs!” Teldryn spat, unfased by the blanket of flames..

“Teldryn! Catch!” Inigo tossed a guard at Teldryn who, still on fire, held his foe in a scorching headlock. The guard screamed, and Enid and Lucien recoiled in disgust at this rather drawn-out and gruesome death.

As for Kaidan, well, he didn't wish it on his worst enemy, yet he couldn't find pity in his heart for any thalmor.

Lucien stared wide-eyed at the charred remains Teldryn dropped to the floor as the last of the fire went out. “Was that really necessary?”

“He tried doing the same to us, didn't he? Or she. I didn't get a great look.”

Enid limped around the group and the guard to glance into the room. “Is this it?”

Kaidan followed her in. There was little but a chest labeled “Evidence.”

“Must be,” he said, kneeling before the chest and opening it. He couldn't remember the last time a smile found his face, but he was now beaming at his old armor. “Ey, old friend,” he muttered, touching the glassy steel.

“Awwhh, does he have to cover up?” Sofia whined as Kaidan donned his armor. Kaidan stopped and stared at her for a moment, and the rest of the team collectively rolled their eyes.

And right below his armor, his sword.

“Thank you,” he addressed the team as he latched it to his belt. “I owe you my life.” He addressed Enid, who frowned. “All of you,” he looked around the group. The others smiled. Except maybe Teldryn, but under that chitin helment, he gave a solemn nod.

“Well, if you're not too busy, you should stick with us.” Sofia winked. “We could always use another strong healthy man on our team.”

Enid shot her a look that could send a dremora back to the deadlands.

Teldryn shrugged. “We're not splitting our profit six ways, but if he doesn't mind--”

“What profit??” Enid scoffed.

Lucien didn't wait for a vote or even an agreement from Kaidan. He simply grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. “Welcome aboard!”

#kaidan skyrim #kaidan 2 #kaidan tes #skyrim fanfic #enidposting #inigo the brave #teldryn sero #lucien flavius #skyrim custom followers

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thebanneredmareinn · 3 months

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is there a way to change the screen image for this area

like if i have the summerset or elseweyr dlcs, is there a way to have those as the main screen like this? or does it just change depending on what's current in the game? when i played the first time, i had summerset and it was all leafy and green and i'm curious if i can change it to something else. i'm tired of seeing morrowind and mora's blinking eyes in there lol

#eso #the elder scolls online

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victorianasshole · 4 months

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A whole mudcrab's worth of meat (Vivec x Masc!reader) Chapter 1/?

Heyy this is my first time sharing my writing on here, so be nice. This was very self indulgent, but if you guys like it, there'll porbably be more!!

Includes: 1st person reader, OC character(s), Ohmes Raht reader, masc!reader, Vivec, other canon characters, canon environment

CW: Murder, cursing, violence, fantasy bigotry?? Lmk if more needs to be added.

Word count: 2804

...

A whole mudcrab's worth of meat. Gone, just like that. I cursed under my breath as I looked up from the shrubbery at whoever was obnoxious enough to scare my lunch away. An Elseweyr mercenary… And here I thought I'd be left alone, so far east. The feline man crouched by the bank of the water, filling his water skin. Seeming pretty pissed off himself. Perhaps he was looking for someone?

Despite my gut feeling of simply turning away, I stood up, hailing the fellow.

We soon ended up making a campfire, finding it easier to camp together for the night. Of course only after we both understood no harm would come to the other. As a performance of trust, we shared our names and secrets as well, as the moons peaked over the horizon.

M'aiko was his name. A grumpy and quiet Cathay, but not without a small humour in his eye. As he dusted his rations with moonsugar, he began to speak freely for the first time that night.

“M'aiko is looking for some cultist Ashlander. As it turns out this is a regular occurrence. However, this particular cultist has avoided proving his validity long enough for it to be a bother.”

I nodded at his words, pondering the fire as it heated the hound meat I bought some days ago in Molag Mar.

“I hear it's about some rebirth prophecy. Some king that died long ago… But wait, if you're doing this job, wouldn't your employer be-?”

M'aiko grinned, seeming a bit self-satisfied. “This one has no idea how I've come to such luck, but Lord Vivec himself sent me. Well... Through a mouthpiece.”

“How do you know you're not being set up for a simple assassination?”

“They paid beforehand. And only the houses would grace anyone with as heavy a pouch as what I got.”

I hummed... It seemed a bit too good to be true. But I didn't have the heart to say it. Though, it WAS pretty believable. As the khajiit would show me, he had the official tribunal seal on him and everything. I looked back at his pouch…

“Say… You still owe this one for that mudcrab I was to eat tonight. Why don't you pay me back by letting me come along?”

M’aiko didn’t seem too pleased by the idea of having me with. Understandable. I was but a simple hunter. But I did so want to come with. He simply raised a brow and handed me some of his moonsugar as the meat I had on the fire seemed finished. “What could a hunter offer a mercenary?”“Restoration magic, Illusion magic… Lock picking and a good arrow.” I listed, sprinkling a healthy amount of the glittery spice on the meat. It had been quite some time since I had felt the good and warm buzz of my home’s number one trade. “And this one could only imagine you long for another cat to speak to. These dumner are not the best company…”

I got him to laugh at that. I curled my tail in delight, knowing I had now won him over.

…

My boot came down heavy on the last embers of the fire the next morning. We had agreed to wake early, to be done with the job as soon as possible. I wasn't too eager to kill anyone, but it was not like I hadn't done so before. The roads were treacherous. It was necessary to kill these days. This time, however, it was to be a little different. Thankfully, M'aiko and I had already planned that I was to be his shadow, and less so in the middle of the conflict. If he needed healing, he was to get healing. If he needed his back covered, he was to be aided by my arrow. That was something I could get behind.

I followed M'aiko's steps through the tiny islands on the edge of the coast. We agreed that the roads were too risky to be caught in. The roads had yet to become more guarded in the wake of the recent uptick in crime this year, but we were primarily worried about being seen by commoners. M’aiko had promised confidentiality. So hiding in nature seemed like our best bet.

The round volcanic pebbles rustled by the shoreline, making odd clicking sounds as they grinded together. I picked one up and put it in my pocket as we walked. The trip wouldn’t take so long, he assured. Halfway to Sadrith Mora. So I was content enough to just walk along. Passing small ruins of Dwemer, egg mines, and other small locations of note… I enjoyed the change of scenery. M’aiko was quick, however, so we never stayed in one place for long. Only when we rested. He even carried me when the water was too high for me to safely swim from island to island with my gear, simply because he didn’t have the time to go around. We used the night for travelling as well. But not before long…

“You see the tents over the creeks, yes?”

I hummed in the affirmative, having already subconsciously lowered my body a little.

“We are to target Dralas. He is a loud type, easy to spot. Preferably no one will see us by the time it is over.”

“I'll head up behind the cliffside then. From there, my arrow and spells will be within range of the camp.”

I suggested, and M'aiko silently nodded in agreement to the plan. I took that as my cue to quietly disappear up the hill to take purchase by a larger rock, for cover. Once I was situated and hidden, I took my dagger and let the sun fall upon it, guiding the reflected light upon M'aiko to tell him I was ready.

And so he went.

He was quick. I couldn't look away for a moment, lest he simply disappear from my eyes. Not a soul in the camp realised as he sneaked from tent to tent, many of the nomads having yet to properly wake up yet. Then Dralas stepped out from the wise women's tent. And things were quick to get more complicated.

As Dralas stepped outside, he called the camp close to surround him, to make some kind of announcement. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but I could easily understand that all this attention on our target was a stick in the wheel for M'aiko's plan. I tried to think, quickly. M'aiko looked up at me in frustrated uncertainty… I took out one of my arrows and brushed my hand against the stick. Concentrating on it… And just then, I was no longer holding an arrow. I put the weight I felt in my hand against the arrow rest on my bow, breathed in as I pulled the string back… And then Dralas clutched his chest. Blood spread quickly under his sandy cape. The arrow revealed itself as my concentration faltered. And Dralas fell to the ground.

The outrage was immediate, and the armed Ashlanders were soon out to search the surrounding area for me. M'aiko took the opposite direction, and I spent my remaining magic to become unseen as I followed him away from the crime scene…

“...Did I get him properly? I couldn't see if he died from where I sat.”

I spoke up quietly, dropping the invisibility when I knew we were both hidden well enough. We could still hear the yells from the camp.

“Oh, you got him alright.”

M’aiko's voice was heaving, and I was for a moment afraid that he had gotten hurt in the chaos of getting away. But he held up a hand to signal he was fine.

“...You're coming back to Vivec with this one. I think this calls for you to get the other half of the payment.”

…

I had never been to Vivec City before. I had imagined it to be big, but this was beyond my expectations. The newly finished Foreign Quarter greeted us, and M’aiko looked down at me with a humoured expression. I barely noticed, my eyes glued to the giant rock floating over the tops of the cantons. I knew I was small, but this made me feel ever so smaller…

“Never been here, I assume?”

I shook my head quietly and fixed on the straps of my old rucksack a bit. Maybe I looked too uncomfortable. Holding onto my dignity, I took the first step over the bridge to the city, knowing M’aiko would follow to not lose me in the crowd.

We had travelled together for a little under a week now, through the east side. Become what I would probably call friends. We never really spoke when on the move, but we shared plenty of stories and laughs over the fire. The night before we arrived at Vivec, I had taken out the Skyrim mead I had been keeping for the right occasion. The wooden cups dyed lightly purple from the blackberry spirits. M’aiko nodded a thank you. He was quiet tonight. “The Temple Canton is open to the public. When we get there, we’ll likely speak with Vivec about your payment.”

I choked on the mead. “What, THE Vivec??”

M’aiko nodded, giving a cheeky smile I had come to recognize as teasing. But it seemed a bit forced. I understood it fine enough. Two Khajiiti mercenaries are not exactly ‘meant’ to interact with the Dumner gods. And the thought of even setting foot in the home of one of them was nerve-wracking… We drank from our cups in silent synchronicity. After a moment of quiet, I decided to ask what I was sure we were both uncertain about.

“Well, what do you plan on saying to him?”

The stairs up to the temple looked like a whole day’s worth of fitness. This god must think they’re quite high and mighty… I tried my best not to roll my eyes at having to exhaust myself, as we approached the temple doors. Or palace doors. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to call this gold-plated erection... M’aiko patted my back as we reached the final steps, heaving just as much as myself by the end. The guards standing watch by the entrance somehow emanated the energy of a side eye to the both of us through their helms, looking on as we caught our breath a bit. But they didn’t block the entrance, thankfully.

I looked at M’aiko. M’aiko looked at me, reflecting my expression perfectly. He looked like he was about to shit himself.

“On three?”

“No, that’s stupid.” He countered, opening the temple gate with a push before I could quip back. I sucked in a small breath, getting my heart stuck in my throat. I was not ready. Neither was he, but the bastard didn’t show it like I undoubtedly was.

I had no choice but to follow his tail, however, making an active effort not to make myself too visible. Or visible at all. Anything to make M’aiko be the one talking.

The greeting hall felt bigger than it looked from the outside. Murals complimented the round loft of the chamber, gold lines shimmering echoes of the stories they told. Of Vivec, and his deeds to the lands of Vvardenfell. Of his accomplishments, and their power. I looked down at the floor. It seemed rude to stare. A small pat on my back from M’aiko made me buckle down on one knee, my eyes still fixed on the tiled floor. I felt rickety and confused. And then I felt warmth fall on my forehead and shin. A bright light casting shadows in the cracks of the ceramic stone. I made damn sure to keep my head down.

“Lord Vivec. This one comes to announce the downfall of Dralas of the Erabenimsun Tribe.” He sounded so formal.

“I thank you for this news. Who is your companion?”

My throat bobbed. I didn’t know if I should talk. Or look up. But M’aiko thankfully set forth my name before I had to do it.

“He was the one who dealt the final blow. That is why we went to you directly, so you can judge the payment for his contribution.”

“I see.”

…I had to look up now.

When we locked eyes, he surprisingly didn’t seem all that imposing. More curious and gentle than anything. He was still hard to look at, with practically shining skin and a presence that nearly filled the entire room. It was hard to hold a common-folk bias towards what I was looking at. Even when I was kneeling on a floor that probably cost more to make than what I would have been sold for.

I made an awkward croak. He smiled. I looked back down. “I have made up my mind. I propose you get equal payment to compliment your companion’s pouch. Furthermore, I will sign you a permit to purchase housing here in Vivec, for your initiative to help the temple. And lastly…”I could see the god’s feet touch the ground, not a sound emanating from him at all. It made me wonder if I was imagining things. I couldn’t hear him like I heard most other living things. I couldn’t find a breath. A heartbeat. Except for my own galloping organ.

“I thank you. Should you ever need work again, you will always be welcome in the temple for it. I will make sure there is always a position you may take.”

I tried making a sound, pressing out what could be interpreted as a “thank you”. It didn’t go too well, so I tried adding some kind of head-bowing to it. M’aiko thanked them as well, following my lead with a bow. This was scary and embarrassing and humiliating and I needed to leave. M’aiko was already getting up and leaving. But as I went to stand myself, to back away timidly, I was robbed of that opportunity to flee, to get away from the probably already sore eyes of the God-King. However, they were the one stopping me, calling my name. “You are but a simple hunter, yes?”

I looked back instinctively, but quickly changed my mind and averted my gaze again when I actually met them with my eyes. ��Uh… Yeah- Yes. I’ve just been living off the land. For about eight months now.”

It took real strength to not use khajiiti formalities with him. I had come to know how dumner people sometimes react to such things, so I tried my best to use their tongue. But if this had been the Mane… I remembered giving my hair when I went away. It was much like this. Scary, humbling and breathtaking. Speaking to overpowering devines was never really my cup of tea. But back then, before all of it, when I had given my hair. It felt easier. Maybe that was simply just because it was kin. Or because I had an innocence to hide behind.

“You must excuse my curiosity. But I fail to see how a common hunter like yourself would need to know illusion magic to such a high degree.”

M’aiko hadn’t said how I killed Dralas, did he? He didn’t. I looked up at Vivec, my confusion louder than my awe for just a moment. They simply smiled encouragingly for an answer. “Uhm… I, well..” Would I get captured if I just run now? Was I allowed to tell him? I should act less apprehended.

“.... Back in Elsweyr, I once spent my days making some coin in higher circles, lending out my services to nobles who wanted an extra hand in networking. It was… Appreciated, when one’s opponents heard false rumours. Saw the wrong hand at the gambling table. Things like that. After some complications with those very opponents, it was best for me to leave and live off the grid for a while.”

Vivec hummed along to my words, giving a small nod. Did I just out myself for a fraud? Or a criminal? I did, I didn’t mean to say so much. It was as if their gaze pulled the words out of my mouth with string. My mind raced to try and read the god’s reaction. Was such activity illegal here? I hadn’t done it since I left, but…

“A social networker, then. I won’t pry into why you’ve ended up here in Vvardenfell, of all places. However…”

I had to look down again when he came closer. They were scrutinizing me, I knew as much. But I also knew why, now. I was useful. I could feel it in their demeanour, I had proved myself useful. More handy than a sword for hire, at least…

“... Hm. I look forward to our next meeting, friend.”

I bowed my head.

#morrowind #elderscrolls #the elder scrolls #vivec #oc #vivec x reader #vivec x masc!reader #Vivec uses he/they #Khajiit reader #morrowind fanfiction #fanfiction #masc!reader #lord vivec

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ithekingofweeds · 1 year

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Do you guys want to meet one of my favorite OCs? Jk you don't get a choice :)

This is Tek'har, and I adore her. She's been with me since the start of 2020 and in that time, has gone through a few designs, but this is probably my favorite because I decided to not limit myself to what skyrim offers in terms of armor and weapons. Yes, the blade is majorly inspired by Luna's in Dota:DB, but deadass, it's such a cool weapon, and I've been in love from the very first time I saw it. It would definitely fit Tek'har and her style.

This is also the first time in a long while that I've played with lighting and shading in my art. I think it turned out okay? Here, have the non-shaded version, too

Let me gush a bit, okay? This is just a bit of optional trivia:

Tek'har has two main weapons: This boomerang sword thingy called Zukoa Kuz, or "Glass Fang" in ta'agra, and her longbow Zrege Tak or "Burning Strike". Zrege Tak has a burning enchantment, and Zukoa Kuz has life-drainer. Along with these, she's capable of one spell, which is Moon Fire, a frigid flame which can give severe cold burns.

Her armor is custom made, created out of mainly ebony and dark steel, with leather and linen parts. She's left handed, so her left glove is fingerless because she feels more control of her weapon that way. Her right has steel claws for extra damage when unarmed.

She was born to her single mother, a caravaneer in Skyrim, and lived the first few years of her life with the caravan, being taught their ways. The caravan was attacked by traffickers however, and Tek'har was separated from them, never knowing what became of her family. She lived on the streets of Markarth for most of her youth doing whatever she could to survive, which as it so often does for the poor and desperate, eventually ended her at a cross with the law. She bared alleged reassurances that should it come to execution, her remains would be brought to Elseweyr, but all it did was make the young khajiit weep, for she had never been there, nor did she belong there.

Eventually, A companion who had visited the city ended up spending a night due to getting too rowdy at the inn, and would eventually offer Tek’har another chance. He paid her bail with interest, and brought her to Whiterun, where she started training under the companions, as well as running errands for stray coin. Her views of lycanthropy would change from the common khajiit onlook, to a more positive light, perhaps even one colored with desire and curiosity.

Tek’har was hard to control, brash and violent at the best of times, rowdy from too long spent dodging guards but with the quicksilver tongue of a prosperous merchant. She also seemed to have a certain bloodlust that couldn't seem to be culled.

Eventually, at 19 winters, she would accept the offer of lycanthropy, but it was quite apparent that the young woman became a danger in beastform. Both cat and wolf, large, brutish and hungry.

Asbjorn would extend his own offer of coming with him to serve The Dark Brotherhood, and she would accept. During her travels as an assassin, she would come across the cult of Namira, and morbid curiosity would lead her to pledge servitude.

Tekhar’s dreams are marred by nightmares, even more so than just a werewolf. It is a reminder of the rage all three gods she serves feel, and of how her soul will be torn asunder upon death. One does not pledge servitude to the Mistress of Decay, the Dread-Father and the Father of Manbeasts and live a life that is kind to them.

Despite being a mess, Tekhar has some redeeming qualities. Theve mellowed out, calm but sharp as a blade and unwaveringly courageous. She is typically unfazed in the face of peril, with a moderate level of distrust of the world around her. Her loyalties are slack, but steady. Rarely does she become less loyal unless provoked into becoming so, but she never fully commits to a single cause, taking contracts wherever. She's erudite and strangely elegant, priding herself in clean cloth and polished armor as a token she has moved from the slums, but is also notorious for crude language and brash words. She can be ruthless and cold in circumstances, but holds a certain warmth and solidarity for those less fortunate. Her humor is dry but abundant once you get past the cold indifference. Shrewd and full of street smarts, raised by barters, she certainly knows her way around people. So though stubborn and unapologetic, Tekharhas been shown to also be capable of personal reflection and growth

#art #digital art #ibispaint art #character #digitalillustration #characterdesign #artwork #oc #original character #skyrim #skyrim oc #khajiit #skyrim khajiit #i could talk about her for days

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tastesoftamriel · 2 years

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Dear Talviel,

This one journeyed to Elseweyr recently to visit family. Ahnarji, this one's sister, mentioned she could not wait to try her friend's candied rose petals. It gave this one quite a shock! Are roses actually edible? If so, have you cooked any dishes with them?

Bright moons, friend! I absolutely adore the use of flowers in food, whether it's for aroma or a pop of colour. Rose petals in particular are a favourite, as they make for a lovely, fragrant infusion. They are also perfectly edible as is! Candied rose petals are a great place to start, but I also love rosewater-soaked baklava, rose jellies, chocolate-coated rose petals, and rose milk pudding.

While I don't have many recipes at present involving roses (there are a couple in the works, though!), you can try my Rosy Disposition Tonic and Gingerose Tea for a floral twist to your afternoon tea. ~Talviel

#Asks #Roses

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throughtrialbyfire · 8 months

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1, 3, 13, and 31 for skyrim faves questions

ooooo thank you for asking these!!!!

1 - favorite character build?

stealth builds by far have been the most fun for me, but i've only played as two characters thus far! i love sneaking through draugr ruins and taking down enemies in silence.

3 - favorite daedric artifact?

DAWNBREAKER <3333333333333333333333 my fav. i just love it. glowing sword that can turn draugr to ash is a win in my book

13 - favorite in-game food drink? would you eat / drink it in real life?

elseweyr fondue!! yes i would 10000000000% try it, it sounds fucking delicious

31 - favorite craziest piece of actual canon lore?

OK SO if we're talking about just canon to skyrim, i don't know, tbh! a lot of it can be really wild. like the greybeards just having a whole ass dragon for their leader, that's a fairly good example. but i think if we're talking about general TES canon, the numidium. i'm slowly wrapping my brain around it but man i think about it sometimes a bit too much. AND the floating city of umbriel!

thank you again, these were really fun to answer!! ask game

#bishop.txt #ask game #asks #tes #skyrim

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arsontastic-fandom-takes · 8 months

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Back on my bullshittery again. I saw this post and got inspired to do the same with Tally-ho, so here we go. Thanks to @dynamite124 for answering my ask and thus helping me with my fic.

Taliesin with the idea that the time spent in Sovengarde fighting Alduin felt like hours, but was actually years, and the dragonborn is presumed dead. Can be read as platonic since no inherently romantic actions take place, but is intended to be romantic.

Words: 877

Sovengarde was nothing like Massacre expected it to be. They had heard passing tales of glory and battle from the few nords in the college and on their journey, but no mere story could regale precisely how beautiful and serene it was. Minus the horrible dragon that they had to fight, that is.

The fight itself passed quick enough -as quick as all fights do, with adrenaline changing your perception of time- and the celebratory afterparty was wonderful. Massacre quickly learned that if there's anybody that knows how to party, it's dead nords.

After a party that left them glad they couldn't get hungover through dimensions, Massacre returned to the living world of Skyrim, but something was.... wrong.

The temple that the portal to Sovengarde belonged to seemed more... disheveled than Massacre remembered, and the bones seemed more aged than they last left them.

Slightly perturbed, Massacre decided to go to Whiterun immediately. Their companions would have known what was going on, they were sure of it.

The trip took a week, and Massacre was determined to not stop in cities or villages. Throughout the week, they found themself glad that they knew how to hunt and forage. They considered calling Odahviing, but decided against it. They didn't want to spook the city's people, and their horse was back in the stables, so their only travel option was on foot.

Whiterun looked different too. It seemed less lively and the kids looked older. No one said 'Hi' to them or even paid mind to them, as if they'd been forgotten. It left them feeling uneasy.

Dragonsreach was more dilpetaded than they remember, the stone carrying age and weather that it shouldn't have.

Balgruuf didn't recognize them. His face carried lines and blemishes that it wasn't supposed to and looked at them with confusion.

Something was very, very wrong.

They spent three months looking for him. He was nowhere to be found across all of Skyrim, and the only indiction that he had been there was a journal left behind in Lakeview Manor.

From what the journal said- in Taliesin's handwriting-, they had been gone for over a year, and were presumed dead after a month. They remember him saying that after everything in Skyrim, he wanted to visit other parts of Nirn, primarily Elseweyr and High Rock.

By the gods, Massacre hoped that was still true. They couldn't bear the thought of never finding him again.

High rock was a bust. Getting a passport and the doccumentation needed was a story and a half, and after months of looking over the unfamiliar terrain, they found nothing. Massacre hoped he was still alive. They didn't know how long they had been gone, but anyone could die any day and they would be none the wiser.

Sending a small prayer to the Nine, they prepared for their trek across Elsweyr.

The sandy terrain was warmer than they were used to, and unforgiving. Their meals were few and far between, and water was even less frequently stumbled upon. Sometimes, they wondered if they died in Sovengarde and this was some sort of punishment placed upon them for failing to fullfil their purpose.

They kept hope though, as it was the only thing that kept their steps coming one after the other.

Finally, after almost a year's worth of searching the blazing heats of Elsweyr, Massacre found him. When they saw him amongst the Khajiit, they thought he was a mirage. The world was already cruel, so why not torment them some more?

Then he looked at them, and disbelief took over his features.

They knew that no mirage conjured by their memory could imitate that look. They wanted to scream praises for whatever deity finally allowed them to find their best friend.

Instead, they started running towards him. "Talliesin!"

The disbelief only grew the closer they got. Massacre was close to crying from the joy of finding him.

They collided with him head on, almost sending the elf toppling over. He was real, and Massacre was so glad to have found him.

They stood in eachother's hold for who-cares-how-long, processing that they were both actually there. They were both alive and together, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

After he recovered from the shock, he pulled back, staring at them. "You're alive." It wasn't a question, but they answered anyway.

"Yeah, I am. I'm so sorry I left you. I didn't know that I was in there for so long. I'm so, so sorry."

They both had tears in their eyes, and for all they knew, it was just the two of them in this city made of sand.

"I thought I lost you. You were gone for so long, we all thought Alduin had won, or that you had both bested eachother..."

"I'm so sorry. I'm here, and I was so scared when I couldn't find you. I thought I had lost you. You don't know how long I was looking for you." Massacre felt like a broken record, but they didn't care. They couldn't imagine what he had gone through when he thought they were dead. They wished he never had to experience any of it.

"It's okay. You're here now, and that's what matters."

#skyrim taliesin #skyrim #arsontastic writing #drabble #skyrim drabble #skyrim fic #Massacre the dragonborn

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thalwhore · 9 months

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If Taliesin keeps talking about visiting Elseweyr I'm just gonna have to draw him there.

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late-nite-scholar · 2 years

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Day 5- Language/Divine

Prompt Used- Language

@tes-summer-fest

Wordcount- 769

Warnings- None

A fun little piece where a Redguard, a Nord, and a Khajiit walk to a Dwemer ruin and talk about words.

***

J'Zargo had been grumbling in Ta'agra for the last twenty minutes. Farkas looked back at him, then at me.

"What's his problem?"

"He's complaining about the cold, mostly. Also about travelling in the cold. And snow.” I chuckled.

“He didn’t have to come with us.”

“I know, and he originally said no. But then he decided it would be better to see a Dwemer ruin in the company of a couple of warriors, rather than alone.”

“I guess I can’t blame him there.”

By this time, J’Zargo had caught up to us. He looked over at Farkas, muttering again. This time I couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s not cold because Nords are born and bred for this, from the time even before they were Nords and came over with Ysgramor.” I replied in Ta’agra. J’Zargo stared at me like I’d grown a second head.

“How… how do you know the language of the Khajiit?” he demanded, now in Tamrielic.

“Well, my father runs and organizes caravans that travel all over the continent. I know words in a lot of languages. And I’m pretty good with Ta’agra. When I was still at home I helped with the caravans travelling to Elseweyr quite often.” I gave him a friendly nudge with my elbow.

“J’Zargo did not know this. So, you have known what J’Zargo has been saying all this time? And you did not tell J’Zargo? You wound me, my friend.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to seem like I was being nosy. As long as you weren’t badmouthing me behind my back, I wasn’t too concerned about you grumbling about the cold.”

“That’s because J’Zargo is cold.”

I patted him on the back. “I’m from the desert. I get it. I’m always cold, too. I used to wear so many layers of clothes when I first came here. I’m a bit more used to it now, but I’ll never be able to be immune to the cold.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I probably wouldn’t do well in a desert.” Farkas shrugged.

“Perhaps that is true. Thank you, for understanding. J’Zargo is sorry for speaking when you could not understand, my Nord friend.” He gave Farkas a grateful smile.

“Lots of folks go back to their first language at times. I’ve heard Besharat do the same thing.”

“I thought the Redguard spoke only in Tamrielic?” J’Zargo looked at me.

“Kind of. There’s always been those that spoke Yokudan, and there’s been a lot more interest in it since we broke from the Empire. It’s been having a bit of a revival.”

"J'Zargo has never heard someone speak in Yokudan. Not more than a word or two." He admitted.

"Oh? Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Here," I cleared my throat and spoke in Yoku. "My name is Besharat Earth-Breaker, of Bergama. I am Harbinger of the Companions and bear the blood of the dragon." I then translated it for him.

"Ah, J'Zargo likes this Yokudan. It has a good sound. Thank you, my friend, for showing J'Zargo the sound of your homeland. Ah, J'Zargo sees our target ahead! Come!"

He took off, toward the cliffs ahead. I could just start to see the tops of some kind of fortifications above the trees.

"The cat… the Khajiit called me friend." Farkas smiled. "He's arrogant, but he's a good one."

"That he is. I'm glad you two get along."

"I like him. He fights well. And he looks after you when you're out together." He looked over at me and added, in very good Yokudan. "Because my world would darken without you to give it light."

I stopped, mid-stride. "That's from…where did you hear Yokudan love poetry?"

"You said I was getting pretty good with what you taught me. I asked Saadia if she had anything I could study. I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, I'm definitely surprised." I wrapped my arms around his neck. Tears blurred my eyes as I pulled him down to kiss him. "Thank you."

"Friends! Perhaps we will explore these ruins? Or shall J'Zargo explore them while you explore each other?" The Khajiit teased, coming back into view.

A blush rose in Farkas' face that matched the heat in my own. We stepped back, and I turned to J'Zargo.

"We're coming. We wouldn't want you to have all the fun of fighting Dwemer constructs by yourself!"

"J'Zargo would rather not. J'Zargo would rather fight with friends."

The big, golden doors loomed, and we entered together. As we settled into ready stances, I knew nothing in this ruin could stand against the three of us.

#tesfest22 #Skyrim #tes v skyrim #the companions #college of winterhold #friends #farkas #j'zargo #khajiit #languages #linguistics #learning from each other #fluff #farkas x dragonborn #farkas x besharat #playing fast and loose with canon #if i don't know it i make it up

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