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You´ve slathered yourself in self pity, but don´t you dare mistake that for any actual knowledge. Stop lying to me, and stop lying to yourself. You´re a grown up mer, you should know better.

- Mehra Lleran still beating up on Dalamus Rex.

#i need to figure out how to tag this #lleran

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The point is that you are far too lucky. You don´t deserve what you´ve got one bit, and you´re still capable of being the most arrogant, petty, and outright whiny person I know.

- Mehra Lleran to Dalamus Rex

#JUST STOP BEING PERF MEHRA #YOUR INSULTS #ARE SO GOOD #lleran

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You aren´t serious?! You cannot think of any other honest way to generate income outside of stealing a nine year olds idea? Azura preserve me.

Mehra Lleran

#keeping it forever #lleran

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Her movement made Caleb's teeth ground together, and his feet dug into the side of Macke making the horse skitter forwards out of instinct. His bow arm lowered now because he couldn't very well fire at her now without severely injuring her; which wasn't exactly what he wanted.

And now Caleb knew he slipped up with speaking the Low Voice to the kid. It was a mistake and he knew he couldn't easily go back from it without fucking it up more. "Ní féidir liom cúram, tá tú leanbh dúr. Téigh ar ais go dtí do Dúnchla, nach bhfuil sé sábháilte chun tú a bheith chomh dúr agus téigh go dtí na bóithre, agus ní fiú a choinneáil faire!" he growled in warning once more. "Agus más mian leat a fhios cac iarraidh faoi Caleb Dog-eye. Agus focáil leat."

[1] I don't care, you stupid child. Go back to your redoubt, it isn't safe for you to be so stupid and go to the roads, and not even keep watch!

[2] And if you want to know shit ask about Caleb Dog-eye. And fuck off.

On the Way to Whiterun [Caoimhe & Caleb]

#on the way to whiterun #ocnaimhin #//r00d caleb #//tho this is how most of his rps will be #///him trying to cut it short

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It wasn't actually that hard for Caleb to get the information he needed. Apparently his target wasn't very popular with the Bannered Mare's inn keep. Especially because he was once a frequent and ran off to the Drunken Huntsman after the prices had to be raised. Irregardless of the fact prices were being raised everywhere. No thanks to the war. It brought a smile to Caleb's face that everything was going smoothly for once.

Then Caleb bothered to look around for Matilda. The dogs name slipping from his lips in a confused whisper, as his brows knitted in confusion. Where was she? And, then he spotted her, and he couldn't believe it. Another Altmer. "By the Eight," he muttered under his breath, and gave his forehead a rub as if it would cause the supposed problem to go away.

Pushing himself out of his seat, he walked over to his furry companion. Footsteps heavy. Making a silent prayer that this wasn't another feisty female elf. "Matilda. Come." His command was firm. Causing the dog to look up at him with a doe eyed look, and Caleb's eyes narrowed in accusation as if accusing the dog of betrayal. Reluctantly it got up and walked over to its master, who rewarded her with a pat on the head. "What is it with you and bloody piss skins? You know they're trouble," came Caleb's grumbled, unaware and uncaring that the 'piss skin' he was referring to could actually had very good hearing. Wasting no time the mercenary turned to walk away to continue on with his job. 

Get Away From My Dog! [Ceirria & Caleb]

#//I TOOK LONGER~ #get away from my dog

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Bretons

#sights

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Was this Forsworn stupid? She was obviously a child, but the she was tall, big. Caleb had to wonder what the savages were doing. Why they'd be so careless with there own, when there was so few of them already. He couldn't stand it. It made his blood boil, more than it already was.

The man's tongue clicked, and when he spoke it was in the tongue of the Reachmen; guttural and harsh, just like like Caleb himself, "Téigh ar ais go dtí do Dúnchla. Níl aon bóthair sábháilte le haghaidh aon Forsworn. Tá tú t-ádh go bhfuil sé dom agus ní Silver-fuil, meirleach, Imperial, Stormcloak nó Nord go bhfuil teacht síos an bóthar. Gur mhaith leat a maraíodh ar an láthair cosúil le muc. Tá cogadh ag dul ar, agus ní fiú ar an bhfíric go bhfuil tú Is féidir le leanbh a shábháil tú. Anois a théann tú ar ais sa bhaile! Sula mé shoot tú ar an cos agus a dhéanann tú crawl ar ais." The aim of his bow shifting to match his threat. And again Caleb hoped the mer understood what he was saying, what it meant for him to speak in the Low Voice.

[1] "Go back to your redoubt. No road is safe for any Forsworn. You are lucky it is me and not a Silver-blood, bandit, Imperial, Stormcloak or a Nord that has come down this road. You'd have been slaughtered on the spot like a pig. There is a war going on, and not even the fact that you are a child can save you. Now you go back home! Before I shoot you in the leg and make you crawl back."

On the Way to Whiterun [Caoimhe & Caleb]

#on the way to whiterun #ocnaimhin

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Caleb was in no mood to deal with stupid Forsworn either. Matilda on the other hand had another idea and padded up behind Macke going straight to the stranger. Following the welcoming sounds and snuffling at Caoimhe's hands. Of course that didn't go well with Caleb at all.

The half Breton made a noise; a snort mixed with a growl. He pulled the bow off his back, and notched an arrow deftly. Aiming it at the Altmer. There was no lack of anger in his voice, it wouldn't have even been hard to think the man was part dog himself. "Get going girl. Or else I'll shoot ya." Keeping his eyes on his target, he gave another shout to bring his dog to heel. "Matilda! Come!" And she reluctantly ran back to her master. And he waited for the Altmers response. Hoping to the gods she'd have some sense and just leave already, and learn not to go so close to the roads.

On the Way to Whiterun [Caoimhe & Caleb]

#on the way to whiterun #ocnaimhin #//so mean caleb

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Caleb gripped tight onto the reins, slowing down Macke as he noticed someone in Forsworn garb of all things, near the road trying to forage for creep clusters. Of all the damn things to risk your position for. He watched for a few moments, hoping that the Forsworn would just look up, notice him and run off. But Caleb was luckless today, and the Forsworn seemed adamant in not leaving.

Driving his horse forward; he essentially charged down the road towards the Forsworn; who he could now see was an Altmer. Which by the gods, was very different. He pulled Macke to a stop, dirt flying up as the horse began to rear. A growl already erupting from Caleb's throat, "What in Oblivion are you doing you damned savage? Get off the road." His glare was hard, and so was his frown, as he got a good look at the Forsworn.

On the Way to Whiterun [Caoimhe & Caleb]

#on the way to whiterun #//LOOK WHO IS REPLYING #//WOOOP

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Skyrim, the northernmost province of Tamriel,is a cold and mountainous region known as the Old Kingdom, Mereth, or the Fatherland.

#sights

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Get Away From My Dog! [Ceirria & Caleb]

Arriving in Whiterun, Caleb made a beeline for the Bannered Mare. That was after he left Macke at the stables; good girl had done her job, and he paid the stable boy a little more to give her the best care. As he needed a drink after that trip and it's eventful encounter, but he didn't want to waste time on his job. He had to find the poor soul who was indebted to the Silver-bloods was, and he supposed the grumpier he was the more easily it would be for him to become genuinely angry and intimidating.

Pushing the door open; he let Matilda wander into the tavern, the dog lifting it's nose high in the air, taking in all the smells. Caleb's eyes gave quick sweep of the place, and he strode over to the counter taking a seat on a stool. Quickly ordering a tankard of mead. As was proper before needling the innkeep for information.

#unseeingaltmers #get away from my dog

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On the Way to Whiterun [Caoimhe & Caleb]

Macke was moving at a trot with Matilda following behind; an easy pace. Caleb was not in any grand hurry, but also didn't have any intention of stopping. Because, as urgent as the Silver-bloods wanted their work done, Caleb could never bring himself to overwork Macke. So, it was a nice and easy the trip down the cobbled roads that lead away from Markarth. He only got the mare to go into a gallop on occasion; when the wilderness and expanse of the Reach was around them, and only for a few short moments. Since Matilda, the poor dog could only chase after a horse so long.

#ocnaimhin #idk if that is any good but TAKE IT #on the way to whiterun

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Caleb & Matilda

#about caleb #adarkerstar #thannkkkyyy astrid 0v0

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The Missing Children: Imagining the Sustainable Forsworn Community

Ever notice how there are no kids at the redoubts? Or the Forsworn Camps? But there seems to be an endless supply of Forsworn raiding parties, most of whom appear to be at least young adults if not older. Even taking into account that the game suggests how things are instead of making concrete statements, there’s no sign of widespread industry of any kind, including agriculture, to support the people living at the redoubts and camps, and raiding can only provide so much. So how are the people living at the redoubts and camps actually supported? Where are all these people coming from?

Read More

#headcanons

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Caleb's Shack

Caleb's home is in The Warrens of Markarth. Though it's meager and he lives with the poor and sick, he is comfortable in these conditions. He has Matilda to guard him, and takes care of his own health, even if he does rarely get sick.

#about caleb #mod used is Player Shack

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Not the Morning Courier [Drabble]

Markarth was beautiful and harsh; not only in looks, but also in way of life. Caleb loved it and loathed it; but it was more than often pure loathing. It was the morning; Caleb was on one of the higher levels of the stone city, near the temple, leaning against one of the stone barriers. He looked out across the horizon, and down at where the people and guards milled. Observing them as they bartered, trading handfuls of septims for goods and produce. He even liked the rocks that Markarth was built upon; the Dwemer metal especially and how it adorned the city. It shone like gold in the morning sun, but that was where the beauty ended; on the surface. 

His dog, Matilda much preferred to doze on the ground, head between its paws; disinterested in the ever familiar surroundings. Caleb wished he could do the same, but he was expecting work soon. How soon he never knew; he was at the Silver-bloods every beck and call. It might be in the next few hours, the evening, or late at night, maybe even tomorrow. His work came in ebbs and flows, yet he was expected to be ready at a moment’s notice. For anything. But, for now he would enjoy the time he had. Caleb soon closed his eyes; soaking up the sun, and enjoying the lack of sight. It was a small quiet reprieve from reality. 

Then finally a bark came, alerting Caleb that someone was approaching. A great sigh heaved from the mercenary as he stopped his daydreaming and opened his eyes; turning his head to see a Nord guard. Caleb’s eyes narrowed into a glare and his lips tugged into a full frown. The way they walked towards him; Caleb knew he had business, and so he waited until they were closer before he stepped away from the barrier and straightened up. And, even though he was shorter than the Nord; Caleb was no less strong in his stance.

"A message from Thongvor Silver-Blood," the guard said; glancing at the dog and it's owner with barely concealed disdain. Promptly handing over the letter, and leaving. Caleb pondered for a second what in Oblivion the nord did to get forced to play courier, but the thought quickly vanished. As Caleb couldn't care less, and a message from a Silver-blood was far more important. Opening it up, he began to read its contents. Matilda now trotted over snuffling at his arms as if to try and read the letter by smell.

It was a short letter; blunt too, simply ordering Caleb to turn up in front of Thongvor to get even more orders. For seemingly important tasks. Even when the Silver-bloods mentality was that all their business was important. At least for their workers. Folding it up he tucked it away in his pocket. Looking down at his friend, another sigh came from Caleb and he gave Matilda a pat on the head; ruffling up the dogs ears and fur as she watched him with a doe eyed look. Mumbling to her, "We got to see the Thongvor soon. He's got important work for us." He then straightened up, walking off to go back to his small home that was nestled in the rock that was Markarth. Since work was bloody and one could always be more prepared.

#writing #just a practice at getting back into writing #especially writing caleb #setting up open rps/future rps too #drabbles

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Markath

For the ever lovely powderganger

#sights