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Tenets have been broken, friends have been lost, blood shed by yours and my own hands. May you rest in the void and may the Night Mother be forgiving in both your actions and mine, Brother.”

weehoo is it a dark brotherhood OC without some angst?? context may/may not be given I do not know <3

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screaminginthuum
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Serving breakfast, although easy, had been boring (except for the instance where the lawyer interrogated Saufinril) and Toivon was glad it was over. The next part of the day had gone in moving furniture with another footman so a maid could clean behind, meeting Aubry  -a charming, friendly butler whose first words upon meeting Toivon were “and who is the elf?” while looking at him up and down with the face of a man that was looking at someone else eat their own shit. They’ll be friends in no time- and opening doors for people with fully functioning hands and arms that could open doors by themselves.

Fuck the rich.

Hawkcroft had left for a meeting around six, and at ten Aubry instructed him to wait for Hawkcroft at the main door so he could open it for him (fuck the rich) and let him in when he came, in around 20 minutes. An estimate. It was now half past midnight and this old fucker was still set loose in Evermor.

As cherry on top, he’d sent Saufinril a message in the afternoon to meet him on the other side of the property’s hedge at midnight. And here he was, drumming his fingers on his thigh while waiting for Hawkcroft. Saufinril was probably wondering where he’d been gone to. He didn’t want to risk leaving the place in case Hawkcroft came, but chances are Saufinril was out there wondering what had happened to him.


Just what had happened to Toivon?

Saufinril looked around yet again, a hand combing his ponytail absentmindedly. Was he right? The message said to meet him on the outside of the manor, on the other side of the property’s edge. In the back. Yes. That’s where he was at. Where was Toivon? He’d circled the place a couple of times, he’d even strayed away from the manor here and there in case the Dunmer were hiding in a more discreet location, and yet no such thing had happened.

He wouldn’t have just told him to come and then forgotten, could he? Saufinril looked around again. The image of the blue eyes against the bluing, drowned face of the second victim was still imprinted on him, and for a second the thought of the killer being nearby crept on him. He quickly pushed it back, instead straining to hear if someone approached.

He’d waited too long. Maybe he should go back to the inn? Leave him a message? What if someone found it before? In any case they wouldn’t know it was them if he left his real mess- be smart, Saufinril. Toivon was probably the only Dunmer he’d seen in this side of Evermor so far, of course they’d know it was him. Saufinril looked around, his gaze lingering on the hedge and the top of the manor’s roof. Maybe he’d have to get inside to see where was Toivon.


The floor was dead silent, everyone was asleep. There was nobody in the house except for the footmen and maids that patrolled the house every hour. A new safety measure, along with the guards, implemented since the party fiasco. Toivon leaned against the wall, his eyes lost in thought. From what Sorcise told him, the servant activity post-heist remained pretty much similar to the pre-heist during the day. But the footmen and maids patrolling the hallways in turns was a new measure implemented only at night (when nobody of the main house could see them) and the guards patrolled only the outside gardens. It’s as if Hawkcroft didn’t want to disturb the daily life of himself or his family at all.

An orange tinge of light at his periphery made Toivon turn his head. It was one of the maids, a girl with her blond hair in a messy braid, yawning and walking slowly to the stairs to do her patrolling. Toivon watched her walk past. This girl was one of the kitchen hands, she’s around her late teens and supposed to be up and working in 3 or so hours, but she’s patrolling a house that isn’t hers.

Toivon himself yawned, a chain reaction propped by the girl.


Breton keyholes were easy, only slightly harder than Nord ones. Saufinril was crouched on front of the kitchen back door, an ear close to the keyhole as he worked the tumblr locks one by one.

Click, click, click.

When he tried to climb the hedge, Saufinril had been shocked to see a labrynth of plants that he didn’t recall seeing in the party. Going through it would be a huge waste of time, so he’d had to go around the property until he got to the side of the house, only to almost jump over the hedge at the moment that a guard patrolled past. He didn’t recall those either. Had Emmanuel increased security? Maybe this is what Toivon had wanted to tell him, he mused as he waited patiently for the lock to give in. Using an unlocking spell would catch attention, what with the show of lights and smoke it made, but lockpicking with a spell that put back the pins was going to take forever. Saufinril stepped back.

He had to try another place. Saufinril walked around the house again, the dark of the night making good cover but still sticking to the hedge side for extra safety in the shadows. The silence would only give away any noise he made, any-

“Is someone in here?” a guard called out

Saufinril froze, looking back at where the voice came from. From the kitchens, right where he’d been standing, a lantern moved towards him. Fuck! He’d been spotted! He ran to the front gardens.

“Hey!”

Thuds of his own feet against the grassy ground, thuds of the guard’s feet in pursuit. He turned around the corner and saw two more lights, in further distance, stop their slow procession and move faster. Fuck!

“Stop in there!”


Toivon’s ears perked up. There was noise in the…Saufinril!


Saufinril immediately ducked around one of the topiaries. This stupid fucking garden had way less hiding places than the maze. Why didn’t he stay at the maze? No time to overthink.. One of the lanterns was moving in his direction. He had to hide! Where?!

It was a split second, but he saw it: a topiary, a shadow, a bench, flowers. There. Go! He ran, are the steps his or his pursuers?

No time to see which. He dropped on his knees, force driving him forward, he hit his shoulder on the bench. Then on his hands! Lower! Legs first, tucked under the topiary, then his torso, then head. He tucked himself in a fetal position and held his breath as the guard came to where he’d been a second ago. And another.

“What is it?”

“I saw someone, he was running here!” the guards looked around, “Can’t have disappeared just like that.”

“Got to be around somewhere.”

Saufinril cursed himself mentally. He didn’t check behind himself, a very very basic mistake that could’ve cost everything! Damn it Saufinril! You know better than this! One of the guards walked towards his bench. Oh no. Oh no. He saw him. He saw him. Are his feet tucked? Did he breath out? Had something caught their eye? Was he charging magic unknowingly? That had happened before, especially when he was younger. Saufinril felt a rush of warmth and jittery energy. He was going to have to kill them. Here. Ok. He knew which spells. And he’d take the bodies to-

The front door opened.


The front door opened and Toivon walked out. Two guards near a unicorn topiary turned to look at him.

Shit, say something! First thing that comes to your mind!

“Shhhh!” Toivon hissed, “There’s people sleeping here!”

The guards didn’t reply. Toivon stepped back and closed the door.

“Was that an elf?” one of the guards asked

“I think so.” Saufinril could see their boots right in front of him, shuffling as they looked around. One of them took some steps to the right to look around. Saufinril steadied himself. The silence was suffocating.

“Must’ve been a shadow.”

“No, I saw it.”

“Then maybe you scared it away?” one of the guards sat down at the bench (fucking great) as he went on, “Get back to your part. I’ll stay around and see if he’s gone.”  The first set of boots walked away, back to where he’d originally come from. The second set, annoyingly in front of the Altmer, remained seated for 5 too-long minutes before he stood up again, summoned a light, and went towards the left. Only after another minute had passed did Saufinril dare to slowly crawl out of the bench, now looking in all possible sides to make sure the zone was free before pulling himself out and pushing up.

He was wiping the grass and dirt from his clothes when he looked at the door and noticed the shadow on one side that indicated that the door was not shut close completely. He felt his heartbeat increase; had Toivon left it like this on purpose? Maybe he knew he was here. Looking around to know where to go and avoid more guards, Saufinril stuck to the shadows and advanced to the main entrance.


Toivon paced. That’s the only thing he’d thought of as a distraction. It was the worst distraction ever. What was he doing here?! It was well past midnight, of course. The meeting, the meeting, the damn meeting he couldn’t go to because someone needed a Dunmer to open their own door for him. There-

The door opened quick, Saufinril slid in, and closed the door behind himself. Immediately, Toivon grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the house.

“Wh-”

“Shh!”

On they went. Toivon took him down a hallway Saufinril had just walked to this morning, but when Toivon pushed a door open the light of a lantern in the dining room made him close it immediately.

“Hello?” a feminine voice asked from the other side. Toivon, still grabbing Saufinril’s wrist, took him quickly back down the hallway and away. Down another hallway, on their left in an open door room there was another lantern light. They stopped on the side, pressed to the wall, waiting until the light moved away. Then they went on down the hallway. Toivon turned to the right, peered at a double door, then pushed it open and motioned Saufinril to follow.

It was an elegant room with a spinet, a table with two chairs and a whole big room for dancing. Too bad the total darkness enveloped everything, letting light from the hallway be the only moment both mer saw the instrument before the black engulfed them when they entered. Toivon closed the doors behind themselves and then went further down the room, followed by Saufinril. The heavy curtains kept any moonlight from filtering in, so they were both in complete darkness. Steady, secure, hiding darkness. The first one to talk was Toivon, who was (from what Saufinril could tell) in front of the Altmer.

“Sit down. What happened out there?” he asked in a hushed whisper as Saufinril held the ruffle of clothes, the patting of skin and the scuffle of shoes next to him as Toivon sat on the ground, “What are you doing here?”

“It was one’s mistake, one didn’t see the guard-” Saufinril explained as he himself sat on the cold ground too. He could guess he was next to Toivon, maybe facing him, based on the direction Toivon’s voice came from.

“Are you mad? Breaking in here like this?”

“One waited for you! One’s been in the spot since midnight!”

“I know! I wanted to be there, but the butler set me to wait for Hawkcroft.”

“Wait for him?” Saufinril’s voice was confused, “He’s not here?”

“No. He left for a meeting around six and hasn’t returned.”

There was a second of silence before Saufinril replied, “Armellon said this morning he had other commitments.”

“Uh, how do you know that?”

“He took the same carriage as one to The Marigold after breakfast today.” Toivon felt a small lump in his throat at that, but listened as the Altmer went on, “One thinks he suspects something. One can’t put a finger to what, but ever since the party he’s been transparent on his suspicions to one.”

“Damn.” Toivon whispered in a way Saufinril fleetingly thought was attractive, “If he keeps this sniffing, that lawyer could put a damp on this.”

“One has managed to keep him away for the most part. Have you found anything about La Zadine? Where it could be?”

“To be honest, nothing. Everybody acts like nothing went on, and Hawkcroft’s new security measures are at night. He doesn’t want anyone to see anything’s changed.”

“Interesting. You mean, he doesn’t want people to be alarmed?”

“Could be. This tells me La Zadine is more important than we thought.”

“Do you think if we find out why, we can figure out where it is?” Saufinril inquired

“It’s a theory. Ugh, this feels like it’s all over the place, where do we even start?” Toivon whispered

“One agrees. It’s a lot and this meeting was rushed.”

“I wouldn’t say rushed.” Toivon started

“We were set to meet almost forty-five to fifty minutes ago outside, you got set to watch the door and then one triggered the alarm and we had to run all around the manor to this cold room to have a chance to have a quick chat that one is sure has to end soon before Emmanuel comes or you’re missed. It was definitely rushed or botched, to say the least. Inconvenienced.”

Toivon let out a chuckle. It was a pleasant surprise.

“Fine. It was inconvenient. Tell you what. Starting on Turdas at midday, I have the afternoon and night off. I’ll get to The Marigold and we can talk more in depth about this. In the meantime, I’ll try to get as much information about La Zadine and Hawkcroft and just overall this whole mess. You do the same. We’ll discuss what we found.”

“Deal.”

The rustle of clothes, patter of hands on the ground and scuffling of shoes sounded again when they were getting up, but this time when Saufinril put a hand on the ground to push himself up, instead of touching the cold ground, what his palm and fingers set on was another warmer hand. He removed it immediately.

“Oh, sorry.” He whispered.

A second passed before Toivon’s voice whispered back an “Nevermind.”

The double doors of the room opened shyly, and again Toivon guided Saufinril past the maids doing their turns, down the hallways and open or closed doors until they got to the vestibule Saufinril had come on to. It was exactly how they’d left it, unless miraculously Hawkcroft realized he could open his own damn doors himself. Highly unlikely. Nobody was in the vestibule, no lights, no sound, no movement. Saufinril turned to Toivon.

“One can sneak out through the dining room and kitchens, then out to the backyard. Should be easy to get out from there.”

“Kitchen is too close to the servants quarters though, are you sure?”

Before Saufinril could reply, a sound of hooves and carriage wheels not too far from them made them turn to the door.

“Emmanuel’s carriage.”

“One is sure. See you on Turdas, The Marigold. Wait for one on the bottom floor, near the stage.” And with that, Saufinril silently darted to the dining room. Toivon resumed his position as he heard Emmanuel greeting the guards, then walk up the stairs. Toivon opened the door wide, letting Emmanuel in, who didn’t say a word and walked to the stairs. Toivon closed the door and walked behind Emmanuel to his room. It was 1 am now. A 7 hour meeting. And, Toivon narrowed his eyes, observing the Breton, Emmanuel’s hair was wet.

Without saying a word, Toivon opened the door for Emmanuel, who went in his room. The door closed, and Toivon headed down the stairs and hallways, finally to go to bed.

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uespPhoto

“You know how these Nords are. Honestly, they’ll blame any misfortune on bizarre creatures or foreigners. Just the other day, some pale-eyed merchant blamed me for putting an "Elf hex” on their dog. I mean, what is that? And why would I care about their dog? It’s all nonsense. That said, nonsense often makes for entertaining verse! Just last night I wrote a farce about a five-eyed troll. It will land with a splash. Guaranteed.“

–The Dunmer bard Gilse Tistar, on Nordic Superstitions

uesp
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i may not be a nord, but skyrim is my home. i intend to fight for it, until my very last breath.

naryu andavel stormblade, trueborn daughter of skyrim, the last dragonborn. fuck the imperials and the thalmor. dark elves do it better.

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These wastes of earth are choked by wastes of sky, each pulling the other apart by the smallest hairs, and the world tumbles overhead. Hla-eix has prepared for this, having spent time in the ashlands of Morrowind, and tightens her scarf and scrapes sand from her goggles with a single motion. If it were up to her, she wouldn’t be out here, but Hammerfell is as distrustful of magic as ever, so teleportation was out of the question. The old ways of a dead world have forced her to cross the Alik’r Desert in the middle of a sandstorm, but such ancient traditions have always held her back. This is nothing new.

But there is something new: a sound, amidst all the roaring of the wind, almost like a frail brook, babbling discordantly. Hla-eix is certain the desert hasn’t made her mad just yet, so she pursues the sound.

And then she trips over its source.

Hla-eix tries to catch herself but the wind pushes her over, crashing into the dune she was climbing. She picks her head out of the sand, wipes furiously at her goggles, and looks for the cause. At first, just a dark shape sticking out of the sand. Then, she realizes, a dark shape with bright red eyes, staring at her, its mouth opening and closing like a dying twitch, screaming gibberish through a tortured throat.

Hla-eix spins around on her knees to get a better look at it. It’s a person, alright. A dunmer, by the looks of it. She casts a spell, a purple spark illuminating the eyes of her goggles for a moment, before there is suddenly silence. The sand that was carried by the storm falls to the ground like snow. She casts another spell, illuminating the small sanctuary she’s created for herself and the mer.

“You alright?” Hla-eix tries to ask, before realizing her voice is muffled by her scarf. She pulls it down and raises her goggles. She repeats the question, her voice and vision clear now.

The mer’s mouth moves, wide like his eyes, wide like he’s screaming, but even in this quiet space, it’s faint, unintelligible. Hla-eix leans in closer.

He grabs her by the straps of her backpack, his eyes like hot coals pressed into her scales. He desperately tries to be heard: “…the vision…fades…the pupil is closed, fails, bound tight to the mutation, to the home…the strained eye, spreading itself over paper like mercury…stretched thin and membranous over and over unto itself until it is dry and torn like a sailor’s flag forlorn…it…fades…”

Hla-eix clocks him in the face, knocking him out. She sits back on her haunches and her muttered question echoes in the magical bubble, unanswered: “What the fuck?”

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I finally got a shot of all three of my girls together and it’s possibly the worst shit I’ve ever taken 🤦🏻‍♀️😂 they were testing my patience.

Lilivah Veranim, Dunmer mage and healer of House Telvanni, member of the College of Winterhold

Hanna, Nord Dragonborn, Companion and two handed warrior

Belwen, Bosmer Listener of The Dark Brotherhood, Thieves Guild member, marksman and dual wielder

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