#morrowind affirmations

[skyrim-forever]

Morrowind affirmations

#tesblr #the elder scrolls #tes #meme #morrowind #Morrowind affirmations

[darkelfharlot]

That Morrowind affirmations post but it says ''I know what direction east is'' and ''I'm not headed west of Balmora right now''

#Journal #No fast travel in morrowind

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Wah this is a little embarrassing to write down but could I get an obey me match up? I’m super obsessed w Nightbringer atm haha

I go by they/them, I’m 5’10 and I tend to dress mostly feminine but I’m also super hairy LMAO (shaving is too much work), I’m not too confident about my appearance but yknow it’s whateves as long as I get to wear bright and sparkly stuff looool

I’m a capricorn? Dunno much about zodiac stuff, but I would describe myself as a cheery optimistic person!! I like joking around and being silly and I’m described as childish quite a bit 🤷 I can be a bit shy and nervous though so it’s not like I’m SUPER extroverted, I actually tend to be a bit of a hermit sometimes since I don’t like to go out much (ya boy also can’t DRIVE LMAOO) parties and stuff are super overwhelming and I kinda have a hard time making friends ☠️ but I do like talking to people!!! Especially about my interests, I’m super into games and cosplaying rn (currently on my 5th morrowind playthrough, playing all the mainline persona games, working on climbing in ranked league of legends, etc) but I also love to read comics and books as well as write occasionally!! Poetry mostly but I also roleplay online if that counts, plus I do DnD,, I love my character creation 🤧 Tangentially related but psychology is also one of my main interests I absolutely love learning about it!!!

Oh I’m also currently studying art, my skills are mostly in traditional drawing and painting but lately I’ve tried pottery+ceramics and I’m slowly cracking away at digital art too!! My goal is to one day be able to write and illustrate my own stories someday ✨🌈 My favorite genres are fantasy, mystery, romance, and horror!!!

I rlly love spooky stuff teehee, I tend to be a lil thrill seeking, mostly just for stuff like roller coasters, horror movies and games, haunted houses, escape rooms, etc, I find it SO fun I love Halloween sooo much

I guess my love language would be words of affirmation? Sometimes I’m not too big on physical touch but I do like being told stuff lmao

As for things I don’t like, I’m a super picky eater ig? Oh and bugs they give me the icks lmao (I’m so sorry Beel it’s not personal) I also don’t like when things are super chaotic, messy, or out of my control, I function best with at least some semblance of structure in my life 😭

Anyway uhhh I hope this is enough? I’m not rlly sure how these things work lol but I’d love to hear who you think would suit me best!! God knows I’m terrible at picking my men ☠️☠️☠️☠️

Hello Anon! You put a great amount of information! I'm trying to finish the original Obey Me game before I get too into Nightbringer, but with me only being up to Lesson 18, it could take a while. Hope you like your matchup!

In Obey Me, I match you with...

Okay, I know what your thinking! You're a picky eater and I pair you with the one character that canonically can't cook? But hear me out!

If you can cook, you'd be able to make things you know you'll like, and you won't have to worry about dying from Solomon's attempts at cooking.

If you can't cook, either the brothers or Barbatos would be more than happy to help you out, making dishes for you while also teaching you how to make them yourself.

Solomon loves spooky stuff so he's right there with you in haunted houses, cinemas to watch the latest horror movie, on rollercoasters...you name it, Solomon's up to the challenge!

He also loves sitting down with you and trying to copy whatever you're drawing or painting. He's probably not as good as you but he tries his best. He can always just use a bit of magic while you're not watching to make his scribbles look a bit better.

Solomon loves that you have the desire to write and illustrate your own books. He'd feel honoured if you would share your progress with him. But he's also happy to wait until the final product is finished. It just means more anticipation and surprise when he finally gets to see your work.

Solomon playing D&D would be an experience. He's got so many stories from his years of life that all of his characters are probably just him from different eras. I really want to write a fanfic about the Obey Me character playing D&D now...

Because Solomon's been around so long, he's also a ready reference for a lot of psychology questions you have. He's seen so many people and how they think so there are very few questions you could ask that he wouldn't be able to answer.

#writing #fanfic #matchup #matchup request #request #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer

[nuwanders]

So out of curiosity for mathyas 💐, 🚊, 💓, ❤(supposed to be a red heart lol)?

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

ok so off the bat, mathyas is, tragically, a Boring Guy at his core and has limited interest in things he'd probably consider to be little more than aesthetically pleasing but ultimately quite meaningless tokens.

and then ofc the flora of Morrowind is something else, so the types of 'bouquets' he'd have been accustomed to maybe having as decoration around the house are probably nothing like what we'd consider to be bouquets in the traditional sense

but! that being said it's fun to play around with symbolism so i quickly did some floriography and here we go:

purple nightshade: silence

marigold: pain, grief

vervain: protection against evil

star of bethlehem: atonement

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

SJSDJHSF this is so perfect for him. he'd pull the lever, almost 0 hesitation; it's one life to save five and that seems to him an easy and obvious conclusion. mathyas is, unfortunately, a Utilitarian 😔

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

at this point it'd probably be better to ask what doesn't get his heart racing; his blood pressure is most likely through the roof, poor guy :( but the other questions in this section seem to focus on relationships and romantic interactions so i'll do the same, taking him out of the context of the fic for a moment. i think he'd be excited by fast and interesting conversation; he's attracted to intelligence and is the annoying sort of guy who'd treat debate or discussion as a type of foreplay

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

following on from above, i think he's a quality time guy. he's not someone i'd describe as massively physically affectionate, and he'd probably consider words of affirmation, acts of service, and gifts to be nice, but largely symbolic, (as opposed to genuinely meaningful)

#thank you sm for the ask!! loved answering these #mathyas #ask #useless-and-confused #in a way his whole questline / arc is just a super complicated and elaborate version of the trolley problem #at least post amaund motierre

[anoddopal]

💝 and 🧁

Gonna use J/enassa for this one!

💝 - What is their love language?

I would go as far as to say she’s mastered multiple love languages, but words of affirmation are her go-to when it comes to affection! She’s always expressing how fond she is of O’Pal, not to mention how proud she is of her. Never a conversation goes by that she doesn’t slyly slide in doting words, regardless of the topic.

🧁- Have you ever baked with your f/o? How did it go?

Who is to say that mercenaries can’t cook? J/enassa specializes in making baked goods hailing from both Morrowind and Skyrim. She’s more than thrilled to have baking sessions so she can teach her wife a thing or two (O’Pal isn’t bad at making meals by any means, she’s just a bit inexperienced)!

It always goes well, and they have a lot of fun making desserts together! Though J/enassa often has to playfully chase O’Pal away from the batter, lest the khajiit-with-a-sweet-tooth consume the entire batch. 🤣

BONUS: J/enassa also teaches the two girls she and O’Pal eventually adopt how to bake! When they go to market the kids will point out sweets they want to try making. Their Dunmer mama happily obliges!

#we adopted Lucia and Sofie in game and they’re always going on about how j/enassa is gonna teach them how to bake 😭 #thank you for the ask! #S/I: O’Pal #dark mercenary wife

[the-college-of-whispers]

Queer Characters in the Elder Scrolls Series

If you’re anything like me (an aro-ace nonbinary person), you may feel disconnected from mythological figures from our world because the cultures they come from don’t have the same terms we use today. So, like me, you may have turned to pop culture entities to see yourself in.

In-Game Lore

In the Morrowind game, Crassius Curio flirts with the Nerevarine regardless of their gender.

In Oblivion, a lot of characters have the in-game models of one gender but are referred to with the other set of pronouns in-game, like City-Swimmer, Deetsan, Dumag gro-Bonk (who was originally designed as a woman but was changed into a man and also flirts with the Hero of Kvatch regardless of their gender), and Mach-Na.

This "different model to pronouns" thing also follows through to Skyrim, with Ilas-Tei. Marriage-eligible characters in this game can be married regardless of whatever genders the character and the Last Dragonborn are. Similarly, Serana lightly flirts with the Last Dragonborn regardless of gender.

In Online, Alchemy is a canon trans woman and Snaehild is also trans (just not explicitly so). The characters Cres and Gazmod the Collector are referred to by they/them pronouns exclusively. Online also features many gay, lesbian, bi- or pansexual characters, including at least two poly relationships.

Some of the Aedra vary in gender presentation in stories across various pantheons.

Khenarthi, the Khajiiti deity of the winds and sky (possibly also Kynareth, Kyne, and Kin) is referred to by both he/him and she/her.

Tava, the Lady of the Air, the Bird God, and the aspect of Kynareth in the Redguard Pantheon, is also sometimes referred to as he/him instead of she/her.

Y'ffre, aka Jephre (Aldmeri) or Y'ffer (Khajiiti), is the Bosmeri spirit of the "now" and is variously referred to as male and female.

The Daedric Princes are beyond mortal comprehensions of "gender" altogether but usually pick just one to present as, but there are exceptions.

Boethiah uses both he/him and she/her across different games, but when talking about her relationship with Mephala, Boethiah is only ever referred to with she/her pronouns.

Malacath is typically depicted as a man but appeared in a novel as an Altmer woman as a disguise.

Mephala is literally called the "Androgyne" and referred to as both a man and a woman, but when talking about her relationship with Boethiah, Mephala is only ever referred to with she/her pronouns.

Molag Bal is usually referred to with he/him pronouns but is referred to with she/her pronouns in the book Invocation of Azura by Sigillah Parate.

Additionally, Vivec is intersexed and usually referred to with he/him pronouns, but sometimes she/her is used. He is also described as being able to take on a female form.

Argonians can change their entire being via the Hist, up to and including gender. Their gender presentation is assigned based on how much they lick the Hist tree as adolescents, but many change genders later in their lives.

Pop Culture Witchcraft

As with a lot of deities, you could probably invoke an Aedra or Daedra for help in a gender-affirmation spell (or a same-sex love spell with the help of Boethiah and Mephala).

Dragon Shouts can also be crafted to help with gender dysphoria, confidence in who you want to be, help with coming out, stuff like that. I've even crafted two of my own, which I will link in the sources.

Anything you can think that includes magic and an element of yourself can be altered to include your identity, if you so wish for it to be there.

Sources

"General: Gender and Sexual Diversity" on the Unofficial Elder Scrolls Pages: https://en.uesp.net/wiki/General:Gender_and_Sexual_Diversity

"LGBTQ+" on the Elder Scrolls Wiki: https://elderscrolls.fandom.com/wiki/LGBTQ%2B

"Invocation of Azura" by Sigillah Parate (an in-game author), reformatted by myself with a little commentary: https://the-college-of-whispers.tumblr.com/post/662061066016227328/invocation-of-azura

"Transmasc & Transfem Body Dysphoria Relief Shouts" by @the-college-of-whispers on Tumblr: https://jasper-grimoire.tumblr.com/post/666248602641891328

The queer section tag on my personal online grimoire, @jasper-grimoire: https://jasper-grimoire.tumblr.com/tagged/section%3A-queer

#the elder scrolls #elder scrolls witchcraft #elder scrolls paganism #jasper post #in-game lore #kynareth #y'ffre #boethiah #malacath #mephala #molag bal #vivec #thu'um #spells #deities and worship #daedric princes #the aedra

[maybemanyskeletonhats]

Elves reaction to depressed hero 😔

Sad sad sad ☔ but...just a personal reminder from me, that you are never alone. This is unedited.

Inspiration for Vivec's scenario comes from MK's "What my beloved taught me" posted on Morrowind's 10th birthday. And Sotha Sil's dialogue on his personal view on Vivec from ESO. Also 'Mouth' for those who are in the know are referring to Telvanni wizard's errand boys basically. They handle recruitment into House Telvanni.

~°~°~°~°~°~°~

Sotha Sil knows what that feels like, that gnawing feeling in your stomach. and the moments when a spark of joy you feel as you do something can turn into a deep sense of dread in an instant. It's a sad ordeal, one he has experience with sadly. He can try what he can, offer some words if you truly think he would know what to say. He loves them, and he wants them to be happy but understands that being depressed can block that pretty easily. Sil may encourage them to do whatever they need to feel better as long as they don't harm themselves in the process. He'll bring them the things they want to eat and all the blankets they could possibly need. Anything for them to have a sense of security, even if it's brief. He cares in his own way, and he'll do whatever he can to help them get through it.

Vivec knows a poet's despair from the beginning. His earlier days weren't easy, and neither was his childhood. It wasn't something anyone could say they were proud of. Either way should he of had any other choice his life might have been drastically different. He's sympathetic to them. He feels their feelings rather strongly and perfectly understands that want to just lie around and do absolutely nothing. Just hoping things will get better by themselves. If they really need to cry, he'll let them. He'd rather have them cry and get it out then bottle it up like he does. Vivec can lay with them, he can have all the snacks they like eating taken to them, and he'll carry them everywhere if he needs too. The gods feet barely ever touch the ground, but the least he can do is shoulder some of the burden they carry.

Almalexia has mourned someone before. Cried so hard the whites of her golden eyes were stained red for hours. She understands the need to cry, to let out all of those bad feelings but it certainly hurts when they weep and she can't really do anything to help. Gifts don't really help, at least not permanently, food can be a great coping mechanism but she doesn't want them to overeat. Her head swims with thoughts of ways to help them. Eventually she realizes that her mere presence could do so much more then anything else. Chosing to abandon her usual spot so she could sit close by. She'll whisper affirmations and praise to them, and stifle any insults they throw at themselves. She's slow to learn, but she learns.

Voryn Dagoth feels his heart break slightly at the news. They were...depressed. He can relate, he doesn't see the world as something grand as everyone else does. If anything, people live solely for other people. When you strip that down...well. There's nothing. A lack of purpose and belonging. It's a hard battle, considering most people are always fighting alone. But he's there, if that's anything to them. He's there to listen and be the eyes and ears when no one else would spare them mercy.

He may be a reserved individual, strange in some sort of way but who wasn't? He does everything he does because he must, because his sense of loyalty was unwavering even if that hurt him later. He'll stick to their side like glue if he's their lifeline.

Mannimarco hasn't ever been depressed. Sure he's been dissatisfied, angry. Never depressed. Truthfully, he's slightly lost. He was never the best at comforting words but it's beautiful how far people will go to help someone elses peace of mind.

Mannimarco will take the time to be nicer to them, and will physically jump at the person who decides to try to verbally berate them. He may not understand, but he knows their at a time of great unhappiness. Therefore, he may come off as more sweet as he nudges them every now and again to question if they are okay or if they've eaten.

He's bitter at people for making them feel this way, as it's always people who cause deep upset like this. He'll glare at the person who even looks their way and never strays from their side for too long.

Neloth has seen fellow Telvanni members who were less then happy, if you believed him. He saw how exhausted they seemed despite sleeping frequently. So if they thought they were being subtle hiding it from him, they were surely mistaken. He doesn't want to coddle them, as he knows that can make them feel worse but he's surprisingly ready to tear a new one into the one who attacks them over it. He may not express it vocally but he does love them deeply. Neloth isn't the best caregiver, and he knows he can say the wrong things at the wrong time. So he settles for making sure they've been eating and sleeping a healthy amount.

Divayth Fyr feels immediate protectiveness take ahold. He would want to know if they were eating the right amount, were they sleeping okay? As a father of four he'll feel it's his responsibility in some way or another for their happiness. Might take it upon himself to feed them himself, which brings the rare sight of Fyr in a kitchen. That being said if Fyr likes them, his daughters probably do aswell. So they have lots of fun with the family of 5 coddling them. Knows they won't do anything to themselves but always has one of his kids with them so they have company. He'll hug them more just as a reminder that he's still very much there for them.

Teldryn Sero won't coddle them by default. He does like them obviously and he wouldn't want to see anything happen to them. Maybe, just maybe will ask them how they are feeling more then his previous employers.

Gets them food and will encourage them to have a bottle of Sujamma every now and again. Granted, he doesn't want them to drink their pain away. Hes done that before and it spares no pain the next morning. Overall, he's the supportive friend while not coddling or smothering them to pieces.

#the elder scrolls #sotha sil #elder scrolls morrowind #eso #elder scrolls #vivec #almalexia #divayth fyr #teldryn sero #neloth #mannimarco

[kogo-dogo]

ooh 5, 9, 43 maybe??

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

I can’t read things that are improperly formatted. If something isn’t spaced correctly or is an utter block of text, my brain just shuts off. It could be the most innovative, well-written work to have every spilled from human hands, but the inside of my head would just be angry and afraid and flip the “off” switch. Said brain just expects a pattern, and when that pattern is broken? I can’t do it.

I’m also not huge on most AUs. I’m what a lot of people would have called in the olden days a “canon elitist.” I’m all for flubbing things if you can make it make sense in the context of the original material, but I’m always wary of AUs. I blame the fact I was very heavily into the Elder Scrolls fandom when Mog Mod was popular and everyone’s Dunmer was a goth boy in leather chaps.

That said, not all AUs are made equal. Some people know how to write in-character and compelling content. Sometimes I’m guilty of it myself (I say, while gesturing violently to HRV). I’m just very, very leery of them.

9. Tag 3 fic writers you think are underrated/unknown in the fandom/fanfiction community.

The fics I have in mind that are unknown are fics that are literally lost. I think it’s kind of interesting to have Secret Knowledge of Hidden Fics, so I’m gonna share those instead.

- There was an illustrated(?) fic that was lost when the PlanetElderScrolls forum was destroyed, which was a screenshot-with-story fic written by a guy named Captain Jordan. About... Captain Jordan. He was a ship-sailing pirate who hung out in the Sea of Ghosts in Morrowind with a rag-tag group of non-lore compliant friends and kept ending up in weirder and weirder predicaments. Glitches that happened in-game were treated as “canon” to his adventure, and included a whale that jumped so high out of the water that it flew away, a Nord named Cjad who repeatedly died from falling from the crow’s nest, and his Khajiit and Bosmer companions getting into a raging fist-fight while a castle burned around them. It was... not lore compliant, but it was fucking hilarious because the author had one of the best senses of humor I’ve seen in writing.

- A New Vegas crack fic I found on the Fallout Kink Meme back in the day. It was about Vulpes Inculta infiltrating a slumber party with all of the most famous females of the Mojave, while dressed in a bad wig and pajamas. Throughout the whole thing, he was kept perfectly in-character, and so while all of these women are talking about their crushes and painting their nails, he is trying to piece together sensitive information from their conversations. It ends with him becoming convinced they’re oracles because they’re using a paper fortune teller to “see the future,” and he covertly informs Caesar that they’ve predicted he will do “naked Twister with the whore, Santiago.”

- My holy grail that I hope to find again someday: The Vulpes/Deacon fic. It wasn’t a ship fic, but was basically a redemption arc for Vulpes Inculta. I remember he joined a caravan after the Legion was destroyed at the insistence of Courier Six, and marched eastward until he wound up in the Commonwealth. Once there, he’d already realized how misguided he was, and while stopping at... that one settlement that hates synths? He finds a tape for “Join the Railroad” in a trashcan, and is inspired to actually seek them out. The rest of the fic is Vulpes trying to atone for his life as a tyrant and slaver by liberating synths and fighting the Institute (who he considered a second coming of the Legion). He becomes friends with Deacon, and hilarity ensues as... they’re both expert spies but have vastly different personalities and approaches. It was very good and I would pay money to have it back again, but it seems like whoever wrote it wiped it clean from the internet.. and it was unknown enough that I’ve yet to even find somebody who also read it.

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

As much as I roll my eyes at the “goth boy Morrowind” time of the fandom back in the late 2000s, the Elder Scrolls fandom was actually very encouraging. I was a sixteen year old surrounded by grown adults in the forum I frequented, and I would write some of the worst, most cliche, garbage stuff known to man... and all of these adults would just applaud me and clap me on the back and congratulate me and tell me to keep going and chase that dream.

The same community that harbored all of these bizarre Mary-Sue Nerevarines and goth clubs in daedric shrines were some of the most affirming people I’ve been around. In their eyes, this was all for fun and personal enjoyment, so you can write and do whatever, so long as it didn’t hurt anyone and it made you happy. And if you wanted to put a Dremora in raver gear or dress up your Khajiit like he shopped at Hot Topic? Fine.

Those people are the entire reason I started taking writing seriously in the first place, and I adore them even over a decade later.

[morihaus]

some part of me seriously considers going with oblivion’s really weird out of nowhere “i heard the nerevarine went to akavir” as a story beat for my nerevarine bc 1 it’s really funny and 2 maybe i’d also want to leave tamriel after helping to affirm imperial hold of morrowind and being used as a tool to kill a bunch of sad people i knew in a past life in the name of some vengeful spirit. you’ve got to admire impulsive decision making like that

[skyrim-forever]

Morrowind affirmations #2

#tesblr #tes #the elder scrolls #meme #morrowind #morrowind affirmations #girl help #they are scary #saint juib my beloved

[ariquar]

He’d swept through the house three - four? - times already. He’d lit the fireplace, checked it every ten minutes, set about baking bread ( three different loaves, each attempt slightly better than the last but still not perfect ), bought some brandy and put it in his cupboards, cleaned every inch of what he could and still,

Still, Ariquar knew it wouldn’t be up to his family’s standards. Teldryn had watched him tear through the house in a panic, had offered to help and shrugged when Ariquar answered him in a panicked mumble. So he’d turned and taken down his tapestries to clean outside, to let Ariquar clean away his stress.

Outside, it was warm, the first warmth of summer pushing through the very edge of spring. The river was rising up to the very edges of the banks, and Teldryn tossed his tapestries over the line he’d hung back up after the ice had melted and Faendal passed by, giving him a quick wave as he headed for the mill. A completely normal day, in all honesty, as Teldryn grabbed the broom he’d carried out to beat the dust from it.

It was going just fine until he looked over the road and saw three Altmer step off of a carriage, which resulted in him sucking in a quick breath, breathing in a patch of dust, and coughing relentlessly.

He left the tapestry and hurried inside, seeing Ariquar fuss over the placement of bottles on a shelf beside their fireplace.

“I think they’re here,” Teldryn said, shutting the door behind him. Ariquar froze, slowly pulled his hands from the shelf, and straightened his back.

“Okay,” Ariquar said, taking a deep breath. “Do you think - do you think this is going to go alright?”

“Well, based on how well you’ve cleaned this entire place at least four times - I think everything is going to be fine.”

Ariquar smiled. A nervous, terrified smile, but a smile nonetheless. Teldryn pulled him down and kissed him, just to relax him for a second. He was pleased when Ariquar leaned down into it, sighing.

There was a knock at the door. Ariquar jumped, pulled back, and backed toward the door. Before he even touched the door handle, Teldryn gave him an affirmative look, nodding at him.

Deep breaths, Ariquar thought, and pulled the door open.

His father stood tallest behind both his mother and his sister, staring over them and into the house. Ariquar’s mother, regal, hair dark and pulled up into a woven bun, looked somewhat more pleased about the situation than Vaelcelmo. And then there was Faewen, who Ariquar hadn’t even known what to expect of, who was standing with her hands in front of her, clasped together as she grinned.

“Ariquar!” Faewen was the first to speak, stepping inside as he stepped away from the door to let them all in. “Look at you!”

“Look at you!” He said in return, laughing somewhat - “You - you look just like mother!”

Faewen laughed, as did Eiramere. Ariquar shut the door behind all of them, and watched nervously as Vaelcelmo began to look around the entry room - which doubled as the kitchen.

“This is…” Vaelcelmo started, looking everywhere from the fireplace to the stairs leading down, “Rustic.”

“It’s newly built,” Ariquar said, “Teldryn and I put in a lot for this.”

“You did this?” Eiramere asked, hand over her chest, delicate.

“I mean, Teldryn and I - we had help - Teldryn, my husband.” Ariquar explained, and Teldryn stepped up beside him as he waved his hand toward him. Teldryn’s hand settled on his back and his family looked between the two of them.

“It’s impressive.” Eiramere said, and Ariquar felt himself exhale a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. Teldryn’s hand on his back is steadying.

“Thank you.” Ariquar said, and looked to Teldryn. “You’ve met my father - this is my mother, Eiramere, and my sister, Faewen.”

Teldryn, unsure of the correct manners, bowed his head gently and smiled.

Ariquar spent the next twenty minutes helping them settle in, found them places to put their things, and finally had them all in the sitting room downstairs while Teldryn brought his tapestries back inside to hang them back up. He explained his story - with Alduin, with Miraak, with Teldryn - and his family listened, even though Vaelcelmo had already heard it once.

Eventually, Vaelcelmo stood to look around the house a bit further and Faewen decided that she wanted to get to know Teldryn a little better - which Teldryn wasn’t sure he was fine with until she cracked a joke and made him snort. At least, Ariquar thought, someone gets along with him.

And then he was left with just his mother, sitting across from him.

“I was so scared,” Eiramere began, “That the moment you opened the door, you and Faewen would start fighting.”

Ariquar laughed, nervous, and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I think - I think we’re past that, actually.” He said, thinking back on the letters Faewen had sent him, “And I think I, personally, have had enough fighting with her.”

“You seem like you’ve grown past that sort of thing.” She said. She went quiet for a few moments, mulling over her next words.

Upstairs, Teldryn laughed at something.

“I always figured you’d have a husband,” she said, and Ariquar blanked. “Though I expected it to be one of the winemaker’s sons, not…”

“A refugee from Morrowind?” Ariquar finished for her, and Eiramere raised a brow.

“A refugee? How old is he?”

“At least a hundred years older than me? Give or take, of course.”

“A hundred years,” she repeated, “I’m sure he’s taught you a lot.”

“He has,” Ariquar said, smiling, “I know you’re probably disappointed that I married him, that I abandoned everything, and…”

“Ariquar,” she said, firm, and waited until he turned his gaze up to meet hers. “He seems like a good person. I’m not disappointed that you’re happy, or that you broke away from the dominion.”

He stayed quiet, picking at his fingers.

“I am disappointed that you broke numerous laws in doing so, started a stir back in Alinor, and ruined some of the family’s standings with the hierarchy, but,” she made sure he didn’t break eye contact. “When your father told us what you did, I started researching this whole legend he mentioned, about these dragons…”

Ariquar felt the barest hint of a smile coming across his face. There it was - his mother was endlessly curious, endlessly learning. If anyone in his family would find his situation the most interesting, it would be her.

“I couldn’t be happier with what you did. I couldn’t be happier that we sent you here - if we hadn’t, Ariquar, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“And you wouldn’t have found something else to study,” he joked, and felt relief as she laughed.

“That too,” she said.

Eventually, Teldryn and Faewen came back downstairs, joining Ariquar and his mother; Vaelcelmo joined as well, settling in after Ariquar helped him find numerous glasses and a bottle of brandy. There was something in his eyes that told Ariquar that he’d come to terms with things.

Teldryn was right. Things were alright.

#ariquar #my fic

[the-tharns-speak]

Morning, Tharn. I join the list of people who are glad that you are feeling better today. And, the question. Managing a large territory requires a division of power, local rulers. How were they chosen in the Empire? How was their work monitored?

Provincies set aside, as right now the Empire doesn’t hold any province, Cyrodiil as whole is divided into eight Counties - Anvil, Bravil, Bruma, Cheydinhal, Chorrol, Kvatch, Leyawiin, and Skingard. Each of them ruled by a Count (and in recent nomenclature revision as of 2E 513: if this office is held by a woman, she is called Countess should she wish to), and the title is hereditary by the closes blood relation. If it is unclear who should be holding the title of Count, the Elder Council appoints a new count.

Counties are the each split into Prefectures which are ruled by a Prefect* and their appointed advisors. The position is an elected one. In case of need, Prefects of the county of the County form a Prefectoral Council (sometimes mockingly called Younger Council) as a governing body for their County. It typically happens if the Elder Council for some reason cannot appoint a Count immediately, or if the current Count is being a moron and the County is in the phase where nobody listens to the Count, but nobody has yet managed to get rid off them. Once a Prefect is elected, they remain in the position until death.

The finally each municipality (towns and a villages) has their own Mayor, this being the lowest government position. The Mayor the has their own Municipal Council (size depending on the number of residents, consisting of the rest of the people who were voted for with the most votes) which helps them in their duties, and also rules in the Mayor’s absence. The mayoral position is also elected, but unlike the Prefect, the elections are held every eight years. With the Prefect in whose prefecture of the municipality appointing the the two days in which the elections will take place - these two days are work holidays. To vote you must present yourself with Certification of Graduation (or another identity affirming document) which states you as a citizen of the Empire and a resident of the municipality.** The equivalent  to Prefectoral Council in Mayoral Assembly

It is not a law, but very common that the town Prefect is also the town’s Mayor, and that the Count also holds the position of the Prefect (and also the Mayor), and there is no law forbidding that. If something unfortunate happens to the Count-Prefect-Mayor one person, the Prefectoral Council handles the Count-related business, the Mayoral Assembly has to take care of the prefectoral duties, and the Municipal Council fills the role of the Mayor.

*In this particular case, the full title is Urban Prefect and it is a strictly civic function. For this reason the position is more commonly known as “town Prefect,” although they rule a larger unit than just one town.) Not to be confused with any military Prefects.

**Just for the record: Prefectoral elections are announced by either the Count or the Prefectoral Council, and there are the same rules as for the mayoral elections, the only change being that your CoG/IAD must name you a permanent resident of the Prefecture. If you move from, say, Kvatch to Cropsford and want to partake in elections there, you have to obtain Residency Deed and bring it to the election with you. Fun little fact: Even if you yourself cannot vote, the law allows you to be voted for. The Prefect of Vlastarus has been for a long time Tears-Paper, who was in fact an entirely illegal immigrant from Morrowind and the only thing he knew how to say in Cyrodiilic was “eat shit, lazy Telvanni netch,” a fact which automatically made him the favorite politician of the six-years-old me.

#Abnur Tharn #The Mystery Answered #the Empire

[halfofxerxes]

Magelight had such a gentle glow to it, the washed out hues softening the edges of the world. The pair of infants he was bringing to his fathers were glad for the attention he was giving them. Such happy babies.

Alphonse doesn't know if he could part with them, but he can't imagine how he could stay with them either. Van… Sil… They'll know what to do, he's sure of it. He wants his dad more now than ever, and the calm reliable Mer as well.

He knows if he could just focus he'd be able to contact Sil and have the mage take him home to them, but that's the issue isn't it? Having to be able to set aside his notions and think of Sil as divinity rather than a friend.

If only he hadn't been so careless, he'd still have that magical communicator. For all his bravo and experience, to end up in a situation like this?

"Are you still holding out hope that someone will save you, Alphonse?"

The words, whispered in a too familiar tone of voice, cause his chest to tighten in fear. He extinguishes the magelight, already knowing what will come next if he doesn't.

He has a long way to go when sunfall comes tonight, and he can't have any delays. The babes hate the dark, their thin wailing echoing off the cave walls, despite his best attempts to sooth them. He hates this just as much as they do, and he knows they're going to be better off in the arms of his father. Without a coward who can't look at their faces.

Soon his words pass from him, and he can do nothing more than rock the children in his grasp, before that too fades, leaving him stranded back in an old, dead world.

"That's the thing about insects." He remembers saying, "Once you wipe them out, everything dies. You should have seen this coming."

The Homunculus had scoffed at him then, before coming to sit down by him. For all his aloof and controlling attitude, Alphonse knew that he wanted company. Misery, that's the name he had taken to calling him. All the other homunculi had names based on sins and vices, why not the father?

"Do you really believe you're above this?" Misery had asked, "You're stuck here on this planet just as much as I, except I shall find a way off, and out into those stars."

Alphonse turned his head, looking out into the glittering expanse that Misery indicates. They often sat here, in the ruins of the center of Amestris, the place where Misery had triumphed. It had rotted, long since overtaken by plants and forest, only to fade out and die as Misery consumed more and more of the life around him.

He supposes he'll have to be content to watch the lights blink out one by one as Misery continued to find solace for his grief. Van Hohenheim hasn't come back for either of them, though as long as Alphonse kept his head, he still believed his father would. It was the only thing left after all.

"Decay is preposterous." Misery said, upset that he didn't get a response. "I was foolish, I should have tried harder to keep things as they were. You were so much more fun when I had you running mazes."

Mazes built of rotting corpses, puppeteered by the reach of the Homunculus… dancing, dancing, dancing themselves to dust, their flesh dripping off their bones. A celebration to their new God, writhing like worms.

"You got bored." Alphonse reminded him, "I warned you it would happen."

"You could at least have given me a speech about how I would never break your spirit or enslave you." Misery liked going on about this, this was a conversation they had many times, though Alphonse never replied. "Your brother would have done it, and I could have spent millennia proving him wrong."

"My father was a slave." He had said, finally breaking his silence on the topic, looking down at the ground, "There's no shame it, by its nature it's not something you can control. The only embarrassment I feel is that I cannot slit your throat while you sleep and expect you to die."

"And what? Leave yourself alone with no one to turn to or talk to?" Misery spits at him, though Alphonse doesn't flinch.

"I've never been alone." He says quietly, "Not truly. The skill of language and how to use it is the only thing keeping me here, but you gave me all the company I need."

"Yes, he does keep you company in your nightmares, doesn't he." Misery snaps spitefully, pulling on Alphonse's hair.

.

It takes him a long moment to recognise the pull as his magical alert for sundown, rather than that ancient foe. He was lucky, that wasn't a bad episode. Somehow, he's sure of it, but the Homunculus has somehow been attacking him-- how else… why else would--

"No, focus." He whispers to himself, shaking himself awake fully as he feels around in the dark to get the babies ready for journey, "C'mon Alphonse, don't think about it."

He could make it home tonight as long as he could get going now. Having to stop every two hours to feed and change the infants was inevitable, they were helpless after all. The light of the moons was gentle, and Alphonse was glad for it. He knows the children are glad for it as well, their fussing fading as he emerges from the cave.

It's better this way, though he misses the face of the sun. Traveling at night was better. For many reasons. No sunburns, not having to stop and cool down… not having to look at the color of their eyes.

The edge of the woods is a familiar sight, one he's grateful beyond words for. It's been too long. Instead of pressing inward, he waits. Worldy had been assigned breakfast duty a long time ago, and often would be out sniffing for mushrooms around dawn. The old nix-hound delighted in being the first one find him, and it would be…. Better… if the babes were brought back with the hound, rather than with Alphonse.

Finding a log full of edible fungus, Alphonse sits down and waits, preparing a basket that the hound could hold onto while it ran home. Sure enough, as soon as early morning began to break, the nix comes out from between the trees, chattering softly to itself. On seeing Alphonse, it leaps into the air, intending to crash into him, loudly welcoming him back.

Alphonse quickly sushes it, the nix sliding to a confused stop. He shows it the contents of the basket, the two tiny bundles, and in recognition, Worldy lowers its voice. Sniffing at the basket for a moment, it allows Alphonse to attach it to him, before pointedly looking at the mushrooms.

"Of course, it's only fair." Alphonse says, "I'll bring back enough, I promise. Go take that to Dad."

Worldy nibbles on him in affirmation, before setting off slowly, careful not to jolt its burden. Alphonse knows the creature is as likely to bring it to Sil as much as to present it to Van, but it hardly mattered. He only wished to delay the inevitable conversation.

Best yet, perhaps there need not be a conversation. The assumption might be made that Worldy had brought home abandoned children, and that would be it. It wasn't going to happen, but he wishes it could.

The kitchen is empty when he comes inside, setting down his load of mushrooms and sets to preparing breakfast. His father, just a bit more gray haired today than the last time they saw each other, slips in beside him to help after a few solitary moments. Sil, then, must be watching the new arrivals.

… His father has already seen them.

Al knows Van is waiting for him to speak first. The way that the old man's fingers linger on his every time Al hands him something is reassurance, and a question. Sometimes Al wishes his father would be the type to sit him down and badger him just so he could be over with it.

"Just got back from Morrowind." Alphonse says finally, turning to face the stove to set the fire. "Strange place, that."

"Sil was talking about how someone dropped their orb, he was sure it was Timmy. Apparently it, and his destruction of it has been used as a miracle story and it's been converting people to worship him again." Van says, leaving off the obvious question of 'what the actual fuck were you doing there?'

"...Confiscated… actually. Slavers, though I dismantled that operation." Which could mean any thing from him destroying ships or killing people, and he's not going to comment on which one it was. "By that time, I was already there, so I decided to take a look around."

"Did a little more than just looking." Van replies quietly, "Dunmer twins don't just show up in the woods."

Alphonse doesn't say anything to that, lowering his head for a few seconds, before standing up. He knows his father isn't judging him, but it still feels like he's failed. All he's done in his life is fail when it's important that he doesn't.

"They look like Edward." Al says finally. "I can't look at them without seeing him."

It's the closest he's ever gotten to speaking about what happened to his brother, after Van was sent away. He feels foolish for it, arms coming to cross over his chest. After a moment, his father's arms are around him as well, pulling him into a hug.

Whatever happens, he can't tell Dad about that. Van already blames himself for so much of the Dwarf's actions, he can't lay that at his feet. Not when Alphonse had no assurance it would release any of the burden he felt.

"If you're okay with having us take care of them, you know we will." Van tells him, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "It makes me sad that you feel like you must."

He sniffles slightly, attempting to hold back the emotions in an attempt to stay on his feet. The worst thing was how easily his body could succumb to despair, even if he was grateful to display it in tears.

"I suppose I expected time to soften it." Alphonse admits, "But it just makes it hurt all the more the longer I don't think of it, and it returns."

"You need to let yourself grieve." His father says, voice so soft Alphonse mistakes it for his own thoughts, "And part of that is talking about the things you're hurting over."

"I… can't." His father may be right, but the potential for damage outweighed the good. "I'm sorry Dad. If you knew, you'd understand why."

"I'm sure I would."

Van's acceptance of it doesn't make him feel better. After a moment, Alphonse moves away from his dad, turning back to breakfast. His fingers fumble around the shape of an egg, sending it to the floor. His father catches it before it breaks, returning it to him.

Where was this man before he and Edward attempted to bring Mom back? Where was he when she died? Why did he leave him for so long in the grip of that disgusting beast?

"The Homunculus kept Brother's body fresh for… I don't know how long. Too long." Alphonse says, egg broken in his grip. "His skin never looked right, to make it move the Dwarf had to put part of himself in it."

Grayish blue, talking and laughing at him with golden eyes that didn't see. Making him fight, not allowing him to win.

"...For all my knowledge of alchemy, everything I learned, the only thing that ended it was time…"

Purification, starting, ironically, at the joints and sockets of the automail implants. Then the stab wound Edward had endured had opened up and would not seal.

"He hated that more than anything. Knowing that he couldn't stop it."

Alphonse barely registers the fact that his father is wiping his hand clean, only seeing maggots and flies feasting on his brother's body. The earth reclaiming its final champion despite the Dwarf's efforts.

In a last act of spite, Alphonse remebers waking up face to face with, and covered in Edward's rot. Finally getting to destroy the body before the Dwarf could pull it away.

"I can't look at them." He says finally, shaking himself, "I can't look at them without seeing him. Like that."

Beautiful, lovely golden eyes. Like fire and sunset. They're his eyes, he knows that, but set into the skin of the dunmer… All he can see is his brother, nothing more.

A curse.

#v. rusted worlds #drabble #READ THE TAGS BEFORE CLICKING #1. long post. #2. THIS HAS GORE IN IT #....not as much as i was expecting but THERE IS GORE. #death and dead bodies are mentioned a lot #moving corpses are featured (looking at you Bun) #also Krys if anything i mentioned in the tags means you don't want to read this but you want to know the tldr #feel free to shoot me a message #but okay go #good luck reading this

[mudcrabmassacre]

So what’s the deal with Snow Elves?

content warning, this is a friggin’ text wall

Okay so I normally don’t make lore posts I kinda lay low in the TES fandom and in most fandoms beyond that, but I gotta say something on this and bear with me, it might get lengthy

I booted up morrowind today for the first time in ages and while on the fighters’ guild quest to deal with the caldera mine, I passed an undressed nord who claimed to have been drugged by a witch. Okay, no big issue, except further dialogue prompt yielded:

hold up, what??

No, yeah, I read that right. Morrowind takes place in 3e427, and yet a nord claims in his lifespan, snow elves killed his father? I tend to try to keep my ears to the ground when it comes to falmer lore, given how inconsistently it’s peppered throughout the games(with their first mention being a single secondhand line in daggerfall, and then never mentioned again til now).

Doing a quick search I’ve compiled a list of all mentions of snow elves in lore since daggerfall(which I believe is the first mention of snow elves as a concept, with the small exchange: 

"Everyone! What of the Bretons? What of the dark elves? And the wood elves. Of the ice elves I say nothing. They are gone, gone altogether and forever."

"Such shy folk ... I tried," Lucky faltered. "I did try. The ice elves were very hard to find, and not that friendly when I did find them."

"Are all the elves to follow them, and the Bretons, and then the other races?")

https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:King_Edward,_Part_X https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Frontier,_Conquest https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Fall_of_the_Snow_Prince https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Bloodmoon:Old,_Wet_Note https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Lore:Pocket_Guide_to_the_Empire,_1st_Edition/Skyrim https://en.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Skorm_Snow-Strider%27s_Journal 

honestly, if anyone in tesblr can help me figure this out it’d be great. Because the conclusion I’m coming to is that it was probably a haphazardly tossed in thing. Interesting to note is Ysgramor as a character was first introduced IN morrowind, near as I can tell? I cannot find a single mention of Ysgramor PRIOR to TESIII, and it is in sole reference alongside the snow elves in Frontier, Conquest

Going with the idea that TESIII introduced the concept of Ysgramor, it’s also neat to note the book the fall of the snow prince doesn't actually state which era it takes place in. In fact theres no dates whatsoever in the book.

Leads me to believe that they could have intended this to have been relatively recent to the backdrop off screen world shown in morrowind, just meant to be a sort of. Background event? Intended to reintroduce the concept of snow elves from the single ice elf name drop from daggerfall, it seems, using secondhand sources to discuss some unseen war going on in the nordic homelands at least at some point in the past century or so

But after bloodmoon concluded and finished up the tesIII development it was completely dropped, only mentioned secondhand in oblivion, and then skyrim re-affirmed it indeed as something that definitely happened in the merethic era(the falmer genocide, that is).

And it paints a pretty inconsistent picture when you take into account the fact a living adult nord mentions his father was killed by snow elves, meaning they're alive and known well into the third era at least in skyrim

But in the same breadth an altmer Scholar from summerset is baffled because apparently NOBODY not even OTHER ELVES knew about the existence of the snow elves in the third era outside of rumor and hearsay, and the book "fall of the snow prince" is supposedly(in universe) the first tangible proof of a now extinct race that once inhabited skyrim, being published and copied by this very altmer and existing as a widespread lorebook during the events of TESIV: Oblivion.

One day I hope to like, be able to have a sitdown with one of the loremasters from morrowind and figure out what the heck is up here if it’s intended to be that way or if they just had an oversight of Hlormar Wine-Sot’s dialogu, which I’d understand seeing as he’s a very minor character.

#Falmer #snow elf #snow elves #the elder scrolls #morrowind #skyrim #oblivion #TES #lore #someone please help me make sense of this bc I had a pretty well established idea of wtf is goin' on til this single snippet of dialogue #which I'm just chalking up to 'devs forgot they added this line in and completely remade the lore from the ground up' in later games #or something along those lines

[boethiah]

ideal holiday for each of the tribunal?

almalexia: almalexia has quite a few holidays but the main one is ‘mother’s day’. it is designed to appreciate all mothers, BUT a huge component of it is also reaffirming that almalexia is the mother of all dunmer. if your mother is good, you affirm that she’s behaving as almalexia would behave and is a suitable representation of the goddess, and give the ritual offerings to her; if your mother is abusive, or absent, you go to the nearest temple and receive praise + support from the priest and you thank almalexia for being your real mom and you give the offerings to the temple. charity is a core part of this day, and all faithful dunmer are expected to give donations to the temple so that the less fortunate will be cared for (”wouldn’t mother morrowind want you to care for her children?”) and there’s free food and drink to be had by all. 

vivec: vivec’s birthday!!! important day!!! vivec loves to hold a big parade on this day and ze showers everyone with gifts and arranges the most incredible performances right across the land. it’s basically a whole day for everyone to talk about how much they all love vivec (spoiler: they love vivec SO MUCH) and vivec just rides around on a giant nix-hound celebrating for all of it 

sotha sil: sotha sil doesn’t have an official holiday. his unofficial holiday is simply “rest day”, where whenever possible workers are allowed to not do anything and take the day to themselves. it’s meant to be a day to sit at home and enjoy the company of your family and reflect on your life, so morrowind tends to come to a standstill on rest day, while everyone reflects on things. 

[flameandfeather]

Drabble: Clouds of Silver

Bruised, despondent, burned, and depressed, the Argonian sat limp against the moss-covered blocks that comprised the back wall of his cell. He was weak. He had never been this weak. Even in Morrowind, when he was ambushed by the Morag Tong, he at least had the strength of will to continue fighting. And where was that now?

His teal eyes listed up to the walls that kept him hostage. There was no way of knowing exactly how thick they were–though he knew they were thick enough not to be budged, even in his beast form. Somehow, this group of bandits–of shady skooma sellers–had known. And they had prepared accordingly. Chains of barbed silver snaked their way around each of the iron bars of his cell. Touching them and inflicting damage would only drain his strength further, and would take more energy than was available to heal in any reasonable amount of time. He didn’t know who was funding these villains, but whoever it was, they had money.

They fed him, barely. They had given him water one day, but he knew something was wrong as soon as they sat it down. His blessed blood allowed him to smell the stink of the horrible drug within the water, and he refused to drink it. So now, the water he received was from a trickling stream that leaked down the side of one wall. He was alive, but that was all. He had no weapons, no strength, and no hope.

The shuffling of feet and the metallic grind coming from down the corridor alerted Tor-Acr to the approaching guards. There would be three total. Two with silver longswords, and another with the scraps to feed him. First, they would tell him to back up against the furthest wall. Then the two with the swords would enter, weapons drawn and pointed at him. The bowl would be set by the third just inside. Finally, all three would back out slowly and lock the bars once more.

It all seemed a bit much to the Argonian. It was a lot of effort just to feed him. Perhaps it was an intimidation tactic, perhaps it was something else. He didn’t really care anymore. After the first time trying to escape, and being slashed on both thighs, he wouldn’t be trying it again.

He looked at his wounds as he waited for the men to approach. They were nearly healed. Usually the beastblood would help the process, but against cuts from silver, it was slow going. Lucky he was that they were not too deep, but they still ached a bit.

“Beast! Stand back!” The voice echoed from just passed his cell. Tor-Acr shielded his eyes as the torch that was carried came into view. He shuffled a bit closer to the wall, and turned his gaze from the men so as not to seem a threat. His stomach was eager for the meager scraps about to be provided.

He heard the movements of the men, similar to every time before. And then he smelled them. There were six guards that had rotated this task since he had been here–three of them were men, all of Imperial or Breton descent, one was a lanky Altmer, and two were Khajiit. He knew all of their scents by now, even in the musty cell and through their leather and metal armor. Today, there was a new scent. And there was a new sound as well. A few of them, in fact.

It had ended just before Tor managed to turn the way of the guards once again. One of the two with swords was on his knees, hands grasping desperately at his gaping throat. The other swordsman was still standing, blade plunged deep into the food-carrier’s chest. Sliding the blade back out, the two injured men fell completely to the ground simultaneously, dead.

“Time is not our friend, old friend. We must move with haste.” The man reached down and aided the weak Argonian to his feet. He then lifted his faceguard to reveal the countenance of an older Redguard, eyes stark and light in contrast to his dark, weathered features.

“S-Salt?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. Perhaps there was skooma in the water falling into his cell the whole time, and hadn’t realized.

Lifting Tor-Acr’s right arm over his shoulders to stabilize him, the man grunted in affirmation. “You’re not going crazy. Not yet. The wife is here too. She should have the escape route cleared for us already.”

The three stood together, gasping for air, in the dark woods. They were safe, for now.

“I do not know how to thank you, friends…” Tor-Acr was still in disbelief at seeing his two closest friends here in High Rock.

Salt’s face was stern, as always, but not unfriendly. “No thanks is necessary. You would have done the same for us.” His large hand was placed on his wife’s back. She nodded in agreement.

“There isn’t time for much explanation right now, but we will write you when we can.” The Nord woman, Pepper, smiled.

“You two are leaving already? We can build our strength, expose this op-”

Salt interrupted. “No. It is too dangerous. This goes into the High Rock government. Perhaps the governments of other provinces, as well. Pepper and I are travelling to the Fighter’s Guild in Cyrodiil to present the case. Then we will head to Balmora and do the same once more. On the way back to High Rock, we may even contact the Companions in Skyrim to aid our cause. But for now, you need to lay low. Find someplace safe, and stay there until you hear from us. We will find you.”

Tor’s mouth was shut tight. He wanted nothing more than to go with them. To aid them in their cause against this injustice. Alas, he knew that they could handle themselves, and that he would only slow the two of them down. Perhaps he could head back to Skyrim and get a head start on the Companions. Perhaps others, too.

Tor-Acr nodded, and proceeded to embrace his two friends. “Farewell, then. I will head to Skyrim, where I have lived the passt few years. I will start talking to those I trust. And you better find me. I will be ready.”

And with that, the Saxhleel headed east, back home.

#drabble #clouds of silver #in the past #{ this is why tor was gone so long }