#oc: khemor gro skaven

[thana-topsy]

Khemor and Urag having a scholarly debate!

—

Khemor is an orc scholar and the LDB, and he is the lovely brainchild of @kookaburra1701

#topsy draws #skyrim fanart #urag gro shub #oc: khemor gro skaven #orc #orcs #orsimer #skyrim #elder scrolls #college of winterhold #tesblr

[kookaburra1701]

Khemor gro-Skaven

(Portrait by @thana-topsy, full version here)

Race: Osh Ornim (Iron Orc) Sex: Male Birthdate (given): 1st Morningstar, 4E 161 (40 years old in 4E 201) Birthdate (actual): Unknown Birthplace: somewhere in the Dragontail Mountains. Places of Residence: Skaven, Hammerfell > Water's Edge, Cyrodiil > Windhelm, Skyrim

Former factions: College of Whispers Current factions: Stormcloaks, Thane of Windhelm and the Pale

Khemor’s story will be told in my Homeric Orcs Series.

Early life in Hammerfell

The Iron Orc who would eventually be known as Khemor gro-Skaven was barely five years old when he was stricken with Rockjoint. ("Common in little orc children." --Murbul) Although he survived the disease, it left one of his legs atrophied and partially paralyzed. His clan, a particularly brutal group of Osh Ornim, intended to abandon him in Dragonstar in Craglorn as they did not want to waste the resources of the stronghold raising a permanently disabled child.

Whether it was fate, the hand of the gods, or just coincidence, Khemir at-Arlimahera, a wizard from a prominent Crown family in Skaven was traveling through the area and encountered the abandoned child before any harm befell him. The wizard sensed Khemor had a deep well of magicka and even though he was completely untrained he was manipulating the ebb and flow of ambient magicka in the world.

From Nostos, Khemor's central fic, set after the Main Quest and conclusion of the Civil War:

“My master was a once-in-ten-generations intellect when it came to the ebb and flow of magicka, delving into the secrets of the arcane, and uncovering the mysteries of Oblivion. But he was at a loss when it came to choosing a name for an Orsimer foundling.”

Khemir brought Khemor up as his apprentice: while Skaven was more magically inclined than most places in Hammerfell, Khemir's studies focused on various forms of Mysticism that intersected with Necromancy. Thus Khemor learned to be very circumspect and discreet from an early age.

Because of the reputation of Iron Orcs as particularly brutal and unintelligent, Khemor views his heritage with a deep sense of shame, and was brought up almost completely divorced from larger Orc culture, even more so than most "city Orcs" as he lacks any connections to anyone living in a stronghold. Most non-Orcs or people who are not from the Dragontail mountains do not pick up on the indicators of his heritage, and most who do clock him are too polite to mention it.

However, he does have a particular fondness for unusual rocks and minerals, and picks up pretty ones whenever he finds them. He also prefers to use un-faceted Soul Gems.

The Great War came to Skaven in 4E 173 when Khemor was twelve years old:

In Hammerfell, Imperial fortunes took a turn for the better. In early 4E 173, a Forebear army from Sentinel broke the siege of Hegathe (a Crown city), leading to the reconciliation of the two factions. Despite this, Lady Arannelya's main army succeeded in crossing the Alik'r Desert. The Imperial Legions under General Decianus met them outside Skaven in a bloody and indecisive clash. Decianus withdrew and left Arannelya in possession of Skaven, but the Aldmeri were too weakened to continue their advance.

--Legate Justianus Quintius, The Great War

Despite "only" lasting two years, the Empire's abandonment of Hammerfell and subsequent Thalmor occupation of Skaven was very formative for Khemor. Both he and his master were able to weather the occupation, but it took a toll on both of them. Khemor especially was not able to recieve chiurgeons' services for his leg during that critical time, which meant that his leg was unable to make a complete recovery like they had hoped, and so he’s used a cane to walk for his entire life.

From Katabasis, the story that details Calder the housecarl's adventures alongside Khemor during Skyrim's MQ:

Khemor sighed. “To say that I was ‘in’ [The Great War] would be a grave misstatement. I was only a child. Rather, the war came to Skaven. I was living there when the…order for the Legions to abandon Hammerfell was given.” A look of immense sadness passed over Khemor’s face. “Many of the Legion, mostly Nords and native sons of Hammerfell, refused to abandon Skaven, and deserted to continue protecting us. It was futile, of course. They were overrun and the Dominion occupied the city for two years.” He looked again at Calder and said quietly, “I am well-acquainted with the cruelties the Thalmor visit upon the populace of the places where they have control.”

While Khemir's social position and influence protected their household somewhat during the occupation, it was not easy, and Khemir's health never truly recovered. Before he died in 4E 187, he helped Khemor secure a position in the College of Whispers in Cyrodiil, despite neither of them being particularly inclined towards the Empire. In appreciation for his loyal service to and care of Khemir during the final, ailing years of his life, Khemir's family gave Khemor several of his former master's magical heirlooms before he left for his new life in Cyrodiil.

One of Khemir's grandnieces currently runs the family estate, and she and Khemor are on friendly terms and communicate somewhat regularly.

Life in River's Edge

(Portrait by @thana-topsy, full version here.)

With his command of languages, he was able to perfect his chosen sub-field of necromancy: spirit-calling and speaking with the dead. After all, what is the use of summoning the shade of a long-dead person to answer your questions if you won't be able to understand each other? This ability led to Khemor rising quickly through the ranks of the College of Whispers, and his calm and pleasant demeanor meant he was often chosen to lead delegations to advise the Elder Council or other political entities in Cyrodiil.

It was because of this role that in the year 4E 201, when word came to the leaders of the College of Whispers that the Synod and the Thalmor were scheming to gain influence with the College of Winterhold in Skyrim, Khemor was chosen to travel to the far, frozen north of the Empire and attempt to establish a line of communication Archmage Savos Aren.

Because of the unstable political situation in Skyrim, once he was through the Pale Pass Khemor changed his Legion escort for one comprised solely of Fighters Guild mercenaries. His entourage left Helgen for Riften on the 14th of Last Seed, 4E 201. Khemor noted the unusual number of Legion soldiers stationed at such a small outpost, but thought nothing of it.

When the escort arrived in Riften, they learned of Ulfric's capture and escape and hear the first rumors of dragons returning. However, it isn't until a dragon is sighted flying over Lake Honrich into the Jerall Mountains that Khemor takes the reports seriously. For safety, a larger group of travelers gathered in Riften to travel to Windhelm, leading to a significant delay of Khemor's itinerary. During this time, he composes what will end up being his last piece of correspondence to his superiors in the College of Whispers, detailing what he has heard about the return of the dragons to Skyrim before the ad-hoc caravan sets out for Kynesgrove…

#hot orc summer #oc: khemor gro skaven #kb writes #kbs ocs #orsimer #orc #skyrim oc

[kookaburra1701]

pskkkkkk

23 and 24 for mr krem 👀??

heeheehee. From the TES OC questions here.

23. If they could create a new spell, what would they create?

Well, Khemor has been credited with creating a new Conjuration/Necromancy spell or two, but to be honest, if he could snap his fingers he would make an Ayleid flesh-atromancy spell that could be used to correct physical deformities or injuries that healed wrong, for obvious reasons. (However, the pathophysiology of polioRockjoint means that even if he did manage a spell like this it would be unable to give him use of his leg, but he doesn't know that.)

24. What's the worst thing they've ever done? And did they get punished for it?

Khemor was rewarded quite handsomely for it! While in the College of Whispers, Khemor climbed the academic ladder quite fast, and his most closely-guarded secret is how he managed it (thought it's also very obvious if anyone sat and thought about it for long.) Khemor's specialty is summoning shades and spirits: medium-work, essentially. Many of his fellow Conjurers have a somewhat-lax approach to workplace safety, and go through assistants/apprentices at a really quite shocking rate. Whenever Khemor heard that one of his academic rivals lost another assistant, he would immediately summon that assistant's spirit and question them about the rivals' research. In this way, he managed to scoop his competition right and left. Khemor would say all's fair in love and pursuit of tenure, and really, who's at fault here? Him, just practicing the very specific field of necromancy that everyone knows about, or the mages who can't keep their assistants from being torn limb from limb by their summons and are too cheap to pay for a proper Arkayn consecration of the remains?

From the asks here!

#kbs asks #oc: khemor gro skaven

[thana-topsy]

My good friend @kookaburra1701 ‘s gorgeous and awesome OC that I have very quickly become smitten with. Khemor 🙈💚

#khemor gro-skaven #topsy draws #skyrim #elder scrolls #skyrim oc #skyrim fanart #orc #orsimer #hot orc summer #hot orc all year round

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Nostos

HA! This week I have my act together - it is I who will be tagging!

@mareenavee @thana-topsy @dirty-bosmer @greyborn2 @gilgamish @archangelsunited @paraparadigm @inquisition-dragonborn @skyrim-forever @elfinismsarts @polypolymorph @orfeoarte @tallmatcha @snippetsrus @rainpebble3 @saltymaplesyrup @thequeenofthewinter @changelingsandothernonsense.... STAND AND DELIVER (those WIPs) Khemor gro-Skaven still has me hung up on those wonderful orc tusks. Here's the opening scene for Nostos, the fic that will be a sequel to Aristeia.

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera]) Category: M/F Genre(s): Romance Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a quill knife for the rest of his existence. But when jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of Borgakh the Steel-Heart of Mor Khazgur. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

14 Rain's Hand, 4E 205 The snowfields of the Druadachs were melting in the spring rain that drew a gauzy gray veil over their jagged peaks. The dripping rivulets joined larger streams, carving ever-deeper grooves down the granite faces of the mountains, where they joined together in glades just greening with the waning of winter. The streams became myriad rivers whose names were known only to the inhabitants of the remote wilderness where they roared and foamed over jagged rocks on their way to the great river Karth, and finally to the sea.

Khemor gro-Skaven, Thane of Eastmarch and The Pale, the Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Confidant of the High King of Skyrim, and disgraced former Magus of the College of Whispers, was now drowning in one of those rivers. The violent current wrapped Khemor's thick traveling robes and cloak around his limbs as he struggled to grab onto passing debris; his head rang from the blow it had taken on a rock as his feet had been swept from under him, preventing him from even attempting a rudimentary waterbreathing spell in a last-ditch effort to save his sorry hide. Shouting was out of the question.

Calder is going to kill me. Khemor's lungs burned for want of air and the cold water squeezed his chest, the deluge pinning him against a submerged tree trunk as coherent thought left him.

Something was pinching Khemor in half. Unbearable pressure resolved itself into a narrow band of fire across his stomach: Khemor tried to squirm away but his arms and good leg refused to move, as if weighed down by anchors.

Breaking the surface of water he had not known he was under, the heavy wet canvas of his cowl plastered itself to his mouth as he tried to draw a desperate breath. A wracking cough caused him to twist in the hands that were hauling him by his belt through the shallows. A torrent of muddy, foul-tasting water spewed from his mouth as he hit the ground, his face in the clay of the riverbank.

He coughed again, his sopping cowl now hanging away from his face enabling him to take deep draughts of air in between wrenching paroxysms. As his lungs cleared, so did his mind.

Calder is never going to let me live this down, Khemor thought, waiting for the inevitable indignant lecture his housecarl was wont to give whenever Khemor did something particularly foolhardy.

"Are you able to stand?" said a gravelly, yet unmistakably feminine voice above him.

That is not Calder.

Khemor lifted his head, peeling the hood of his cowl and a lock of his hair back to peer up at his rescuer. As he blinked the river water from his eyes, the blurry figure above him came into focus.

An orc stood above him, silhouetted by the noonday sun. Water droplets twinkled as they fell from her dark hair and traced the severe angles of her face. Her yellow-green eyes gleamed in the dark hollows under her heavy brow, framed by deep madder paint that graced her high cheekbones and was now dripping and streaking towards the two white tusks peeking out from behind her lower lip. Her tunic and trews clung to her figure, revealing every bulge and groove of her well-muscled arms and legs.

Khemor shut his mouth with a snap, words crowding his throat but none of them would come out.

Say something, you idiot!

Instead of words, another coughing fit gripped him, leaving him breathless and retching as he brought up more river water. The orc knelt next to him, heedless of the mud and clay of the riverbank, and gave him several back blows that made him see stars.

#hot orc summer #fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday: Katabasis

Tagged by the lovely @thana-topsy @gilgamish this week, and in recent weeks past by @saltymaplesyrup and @dirty-bosmer

I'm not tagging anyone because I'm coming up on 2 WEEKS without power or internet after a severe storm, so there's no way to guarantee I'll see anyone's posts since navigating tumblr on my phone is a nightmare. :(

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence) Category: Gen Genre(s): Action/Adventure Main characters: Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB), Calder, Gregor

Summary: A series of fics detailing how Khemor went from a senior magus in the College of Whispers to becoming the Last Dragonborn, Thane of Windhelm and the Pale, confidant of Ulfric Stormcloak and traitor to the Empire.

The broad square sail filled with wind as the Sea Hawk turned towards the ocean. When the first wave caused the bow to lift and then drop, Calder quickly sat next to Khemor and stuck his fingers under one of the ropes that secured the canvas-wrapped crate to the bulkhead.

“Up oars! Ice to port!”

At Revna’s shout, the men at the oars pushed down and held, lifting the blades as one from the water, and Torden leaned on the tiller, the rushing of water around the steering-oar increasing in volume as the ship changed heading.

Calder risked a glance over the topstrake. Submerged chunks of ice floated by, milky blue in the dark water. There was a hollow thump and a shudder ran through the hull, but Captain Torden did not seem bothered.

Above them the sky was a cloudless, azure bowl where seabirds wheeled and called. Below, the water was dark. Soon the shore was far enough away that the only indication of how quickly Kyne’s wind was carrying them was the bright white ice floes that passed by as the ship cut through the waves. A large horker bull amidst his harem of cows called out a challenge to them, but was soon left behind.

The men continued rowing, the creaks and groans of the oars in the ports blending with the sound of the water churning in their wake.

“We’re out of the ice-belt!” Revna called from her perch in the bow. A sigh of relief went up from the men at the oars, but they continued their slow, steady strokes, looking to Captain Torden.

“Ship oars!” he called, and the long pine shafts were pulled in, lashed to the strakes more quickly than Calder would have thought possible. There was a flurry of activity, shouting, cursing, and finally with several chants of heave-ho the sail was hoisted to its full height.

A great bird of prey was painted on the sail, its wings seeming to flap as the canvas rippled and billowed. The acceleration was immediately apparent, and the deck suddenly tilted as the Sea Hawk heeled against the wind. The cliffs and rocks of the mouth of the White River were small on the horizon: they were truly underway.

After a while, Calder felt he was less liable to tumble off of his perch with every pitch and roll of the deck and he released his grip on the rope to lean back against the upper strake. When Khemor glanced over, Calder was slightly gratified to note that his thane did not seem to find the motion of the ship any more pleasant than he did.

“Are you warm enough, Thane?” Calder said, leaning close to be heard over the sounds of the sea and the thick fur-lined hood that was pulled up over Khemor’s ears.

“I believe I am as warm as it is possible to be, under the circumstances.”

Behind them, Captain Torden let out a loud laugh. “This is as good a spell of weather as we could hope to have, Thane! Kyne is smiling on us!”

“Let her continue to do so,” Khemor responded.

“And look, Stuhn’s wolves have come to see us off!” Torden stretched out an arm, pointing towards the horizon.

A line of black, triangular fins rose from the ocean, and Calder caught a glimpse of shiny dark forms beneath the surface of the water before they disappeared.

The boat suddenly felt very small.

“Bah, they just think we have a net full of herring,” said Helvyn. The first mate finished securing the line holding the beitass to an iron ring set into the deck before standing and shading his red eyes, looking out towards the dark forms in the waves. “Thieving fetchers.”

The line of fins broke the surface again, closer. Before they had fully sunk beneath the waves a second rank of fins followed them, and this time one of the creatures lifted its blunt head out of the water and a plume of vapor rose into the air. A sharp white oval stood out starkly on the side of its face.

Is that an eye? It’s enormous!

#fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr #hot orc always #calder the housecarl #fic: katabasis

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Nostos

Tagged by @dirty-bosmer and @skyrim-forever tyty friends

I am tagging @thana-topsy @greyborn2 @gilgamish @mareenavee

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera]) Category: M/F Genre(s): Romance Main characters/Pairing: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a quill knife for the rest of his existence. But when the jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of Borgakh the Steel-Heart of Mor Khazgur. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

Previous Nostos snippets posted on Tumblr are available under the story tag, here.

------------

The road split up ahead, with one branch climbing to the city gates, and the other descending to the docks. Solitude harbor had once been described to Khemor as filled with lights at night, with ships arriving and leaving from the great East Empire Company Warehouse at all hours, bound for far off ports. With the expulsion of the Legion and all agents of the Empire from Skyrim, the warehouse stood empty, and instead of the massive galleons a few Nordic longboats and fishing vessels were moored in the waters below, dwarfed by the infrastructure intended for much larger trade.

If all goes as planned, the harbor should be seeing activity again soon. Khemor spared a thought for Ulfric. At least he had been able to lay a good foundation for the trade negotiations currently taking place between House Redoran and the Throne of Ysgramor.

Long shadows stretched in front of them, and Khemor spared the magicka for a candlelight spell as they climbed towards the city.

The scars of war were still visible: new paving stones where old ones had been dislodged or destroyed by siege engines, new rock in the ramparts that stood stark and white against the mossy green of old masonry, and half-torn down barricades now repurposed into makeshift guard shelters. On the walls bright blue and silver banners with the snarling bear of Ulfric Stormcloak fluttered in the sea breeze, revealing the burnt remnants of the crimson banners beneath them only when a particularly stiff gust moved them aside.

Two soldiers stood at attention before the gatehouse: one in the red surcoat of Solitude and the other in Stormcloak colors. As they approached, the man in blue stepped forward and saluted. “Dragonborn! It’s an honor.”

Khemor nodded in acknowledgement. Two of the figures seated around the brazier against the wall stood, and Khemor’s light illuminated Calder’s face as he approached. Next to him was another of Ulfric’s soldiers, this one in the regalia of an officer. Gregor dismounted, and he helped Khemor from Blue’s saddle as Calder took her reins. Khemor could hear Borgakh’s boots hit the paving stones behind them.

“Dragonborn, your housecarl arrived at the Blue Palace while I was giving a report to Jarl Bryling; I thought I should greet you personally.” With his bearskin hood thrown back, the man’s piercing blue eyes and short, blond braids stood out in the gloom. Khemor recognized him from among the throng at Whiterun, one of many hopeful young faces from Galmar’s squad staring up at him in awe as he stood next to Ulfric before the battle commenced.

“Commander Ralof,” Khemor clasped the man’s arm firmly. “I thank you for your welcome.”

Ralof’s smile grew wider and Khemor was thankful his memory had supplied the man’s name.

“I’d like to extend the hospitality of the Stormcloak detachment here in Solitude as well, Dragonborn. We have quarters available for you and your retinue in Castle Dour.”

“The inn would require three flights of stairs, likewise the Blue Palace,” Calder murmured next to him. “It is a bit of a walk from the gate.”

#hot orc summer #fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr #borgakh the steel heart #hot orc always #orctober

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wednesday - Nostos

Tagged by @mareenavee, @dirty-bosmer, @skyrim-forever, @rainpebble3 tyty friends🙏

I am tagging @thana-topsr @greyborn2 @gilgamish @thequeenofthewinter @changelingsandothernonsense

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera]) Category: M/F Genre(s): Romance Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a quill knife for the rest of his existence. But when the jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of Borgakh the Steel-Heart of Mor Khazgur. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

I introduced Khemor in last week's WIP Wednesday, here.

------------

As the sun dipped towards the Druadach mountains, Borgakh led them through the maze of jagged boulders and juniper scrub that made up the Karthald highlands. If it was not for the wall of mountains staying generally to their left, or the leyline of magicka he could sense to the northeast, Khemor would have suspected she was leading them in circles as they wound their way over the harsh terrain.

In several places he was certain the path would disappear only to have Borgakh make a sharp turn and what had seemed to be an impenetrable scrub thicket or wall of rock would be revealed to be passable, or broken in just right way to allow a horse and rider through while fooling the eyes of anyone not looking at it from the correct angle.

Calder was chatting happily as he led Bear on a loose rein, occasionally gesturing with the thrown horseshoe in his hand. The young Nord’s ability to make conversation with anyone under any circumstances had often served Khemor better than his housecarl’s sword arm, and he was grateful for it. It gave him more time to look at Borgakh.

Despite the chill in the air and her damp clothes, she showed no outward sign of discomfort, and navigated the uneven ground and broken rocks at a rapid pace. Now that he was behind her, he could see a buckler and sword strapped beneath her pack, not obvious to the casual observer but still easy to access. A quiver of arrows and a vicious looking knife at her hip seemed to be the weapons she preferred to have closest to hand.

How does anyone live out here? Strongholds had been doing it since the Merethic Era, but so far Khemor had seen nothing even resembling land that would be productive enough to support a settlement. Surely they don’t eat only deer and juniper berries?

"...really, you haven’t heard of the Dragonborn?"

Calder’s question caught Khemor’s wandering attention. Even if he was not recognized by sight it had been a very long time since he had met anyone who did not know of him. They really were on the edge of the map out here, weren’t they?

"I think Pavo, the owner of Kolskeggr, said something about it. Once."

"Well, surely you noticed the dragons returning, even out here! I’ve seen the empty mounds, they must be around."

Borgakh waved her hand dismissively in response. "Oh, yes, the dragons. There’s one that was at the ruins downriver."

"There’s a lair nearby?" Calder looked over his shoulder at Khemor, flashing him a toothy grin.

Next to him, Gregor heaved a weary sigh and said, "We aren’t out here to look for dragons, boy. If Jarl Thongvor wanted it gone he would have asked."

"Ha! I doubt the Silver-Bloods even know what’s all out here in this divinesforsaken backwater." Calder quickly looked over at Borgakh. "No offense."

She grunted in acknowledgement but said nothing. The path was pitching up in a gentle slope, the crest of the hillock just ahead of them. Khemor hoped the stronghold was close - it had been a very long day, and his hip and leg were throbbing. He was going to have to have Gregor assist him off of Blue if he didn’t want to make the poor mare kneel to let him dismount.

"Anyways, I hope they haven’t given you too much trouble, at least lately. My Thane-" Calder waved vaguely back towards Khemor, "-defeated Alduin two summers ago. That was the dragon that was bringing back all the other ones."

Borgakh nodded but said nothing, so Calder continued, huffing slightly between his words as he climbed.

"We’ve been killing the others as they become problems, but most seem to be retreating to the mountains."

"Yes, I’ve seen them flying west sometimes. We’ve lost a few goats." Borgakh’s voice held no trace of effort as she stepped lightly from foothold to foothold.

"Well, if needed I’m sure we’ll be able to deal with any that show up while we’re here," said Calder, in his most gallant tone. "Quite frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t targeted your settlement, they can’t seem to resist every other little hamlet and farm in the rest of Skyrim."

"Oh, I didn’t say they hadn’t attacked." Despite only being able to see a sliver of Borgakh’s face from this angle, Khemor could tell she had a smile playing on her lips.

"I said they didn’t give Mor Khazgur any trouble." Borgakh reached the top of the rise, and stood aside, gesturing to the valley below with a grand sweep of her arm.

The expected mountain-orc stronghold, with its usual curving timbers, sturdy walls, and longhouse would have been the dominant feature of the glen if it were not for the massive dragon skeleton that was splayed out on the valley floor.

"By Talos," Gregor murmured as he pulled his horse up next to Khemor.

Borgakh grinned at Calder’s dumbstruck expression, obviously pleased with herself.

It was a good piece of dramatic timing, Khemor had to admit. And the look on Calder’s face was rather amusing.

The skeleton was undeniably real even from this distance --a small industry making facsimiles had sprung up across Skyrim to take advantage of the standing bounties, and Khemor had seen many fakes just as large as this one-- but the genuine article was unmistakable.

At the far end of the basin, several broken treetops, their exposed inner wood no longer stark white, and a deep groove in the earth, now filled with new spring grass, showed where the dragon’s final stoop must have ended. As he looked more closely, Khemor could see a section of the logs on the stronghold wall had been scorched shiny black, and a few had been replaced, their brown bark standing in contrast to the char on the others.

"It must have been quite a battle," he said, breaking his silence.

"Yes," agreed Borgakh, turning her head to look up at him. Her teeth flashed white in the oncoming evening gloom. "It thought we made an easy target. Now our animals graze around its bones."

"We will be certain to keep that in mind," said Gregor.

"See that you do."

#hot orc summer #fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr #borgakh the steel heart

[kookaburra1701]

Bold the facts OC Game

Tagged by @mareenavee, @dirty-bosmer, and @changelingsandothernonsense

I had to think about some of these because the options did not really fit poor Khemor. He is truly out of place wherever he goes, ha ha. I decided to answer these based on where he is at the beginning of Nostos, not at the end, because there's going to be some major changes in the answers over the course of the story.

Also some explanations at the end of each section because I'm a mouthy bitch.

Khemor gro-Skaven

✧˖°. PERSONAL

$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty ✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non-applicable ✪Class/Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other ✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other ✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet* / yes, but charges were dismissed

* It depends on how one defines necromancy and the specific laws of the jurisdiction he's currently in as to whether he's just not been caught yet or hasn't committed crimes at all.

✧˖°. FAMILY

◒ Children: had a child or children / has no children / wants children ◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased ◔ Affiliation: orphaned / abandoned / adopted / found family / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / not applicable

✧˖°. TRAITS + TENDENCIES

♦ extroverted / introverted / in-between ♦ disorganized / organized / in-between ♦ close-minded / open-minded / in-between* ♦ calm / anxious / in-between / highly contextual ♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in-between ♦ cautious / reckless / in-between / highly contextual ♦ patient / impatient / in-between ♦ outspoken / reserved / in-between / highly contextual ♦ leader* / follower / in-between ♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in-between / highly contextual ♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in-between ♦ traditional / modern / in-between ♦ hard-working / lazy / in-between ♦ cultured / uncultured / in-between / unknown ♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown / highly contextual ♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown / highly contextual

\*Khemor would absolutely deny that he is a good leader, and also considers himself very cosmopolitan and open-minded. He's got some glaring blind spots, though.

✧˖°. BELIEFS

★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist* / atheist / agnostic ☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don't know / don’t care / in a matter of speaking ✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking ✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking ❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don't care ✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious ❀ Philosophical: yes / no / highly contextual

\* Khemor is a necromancer, so it's not so much that he's a polytheist it's that he knows the aedra are real and also he tries very hard to fly under their radar.

✧˖°. SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION

❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual ❥ Sex: sex-repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless ♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious ❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious ⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all ⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all

✧˖°. ABILITIES

☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor* / none ≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✂ Technical Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none

✧˖°. HABITS

☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic / former borderline alcoholic turned sober ☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker ✿ Recreational Drugs: tried some / never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict ✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess ☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater $ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic ♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gamble

#oc tag game #tag game #oc: khemor gro-skaven

[kookaburra1701]

WIP Wheneversday - Nostos

tagged by @dirty-bosmer @mareenavee @paraparadigm @gilgamish and @changelingsandothernonsense

I am tagging @greyborn2 and @thana-topsy mainly because I've been screaming in Discord about my new OC so they get tags too. Also Khemor would likely have never existed in his final form without the absolutely inspiring works by @greyborn2 featuring Kesh gra-Bruma.

I just want everyone to know, this is all @mareenavee's fault. An "innocent" question about what Borgakh's ideal future would look like after Aristeia is done and suddenly 48 hours later I'm writing a sequel when I haven't even finished the second chapter???? I am a clown. This is me putting on my big red shoes and big red nose and honking a silly horn and squirting a flower all over my massive WIP pile.

Fandom: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Rating: T (blood and violence, mushy stuff [kissin' not viscera])

Category: M/F

Genre(s): Romance

Main characters: Borgakh the Steel Heart, Khemor gro-Skaven (Male orc LDB)

Summary: Khemor gro-Skaven, Thane of Eastmarch and The Pale, Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Confidant of the High King of Skyrim, and disgraced former Magus of the College of Whispers thought that after he defeated Alduin, he would not have to worry about anything more dangerous than a papercut for the rest of his life. When Jarl of the Pale asks him to investigate the destruction of the Hall of the Vigilants, it sets off a chain of events that ultimately leads him to wash up at the feet of the woman of his dreams. But what can a crippled conjuration mage-scholar half again her age possibly offer to a future Shield-Wife?

The pain was blinding. Khemor's knees buckled, and Borgakh made a noise of fear and started forward as if to catch him but Serana was faster, her shoulder under his arm, one knee bracing his leg.

"No, keep your hands on it!" Khemor hissed through gritted teeth. Borgakh's hands tightened over his, pressing them into the soul gem.

Magicka burned its way down his arms, dammed behind his palms, searching for a way into the rough, uncut gem.

There it is! All soul gems had a natural entry point, almost always obliterated in the process of faceting them. But if you had a natural, uncut gem, and the talent and patience to find the entry point, the soul would flow into it effortlessly, like a river finding the sea.

The pain faded as the flow of magicka -- the flow of his soul-- was released into the stone. It left behind an acute weariness, and despite Serana's support Khemor sank to his knees. Borgakh still clasped his hands around the soul gem, and he looked up into her eyes.

The naked fear they held was so alien to him in the context of her features that he almost reached out automatically to touch her face, to reassure her. But she was not concerned with herself, she was fearful for him. And there was no reassurance he could give that he would be alright.

"Khemor, that's enough," Serana's voice cut through the spell Borgakh's eyes had held him in. He cut off the flow of magicka into the stone. A chill had settled in his chest, as if cold hands were gripping his heart. But as he withdrew from the stone, leaving it cradled in Borgakh's hands, the sharpness of the cold diminished, as if he was huddled next to a small fire in a snowstorm.

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "It's...warm. It's like a heartbeat."

Khemor reached up, and covered her hands with his own, he looked into her face beseechingly. "You hold my heart and soul in your hands, Borgakh the Steel-Heart. Please," his voice dropped into a husky whisper. "Please don't let them break." He pushed the stone against her chest. "Keep them safe."

The kindness and determination in her face as she nodded sent another bloom of fleeting warmth that forced the chill farther away from his heart.

The hardness of the flagstones against his shins brought Khemor back to himself, and the fact that he was on his knees, gripping Borgakh's hands, staring into her eyes and begging her to take care of his heart. He forced himself to release her, and accepted Serana's assistance to rise shakily to his feet.

Leaning on his staff, Khemor faced the swirling, violet abyss that yawned below them, the steps leading into it like a narrow tongue inviting him into the maw of Oblivion. He could not meet Borgakh's eyes, but as she carefully opened her gambeson and placed the now-glowing soul gem into an inner pocket, next to her heart, a peace settled over him. No matter what awaited him on the other side of the portal, his soul was with Borgakh.

As he placed his foot upon the threshold of the steps, a hand gripped his arm. Khemor didn't turn, but reached up to cover it with his own.

"Return safely to me, Khemor gro-Skaven."

Khemor said nothing, but took Borgakh's hand in his and with a final squeeze shared between them, let her fingers slip from his as he descended the stairs into the realm of the Ideal Masters.

#hot orc summer #fic: nostos #oc: khemor gro-skaven #skyrim fanfiction #kb writes #it's not easy being green #wip wednesday #skyrim #tesblr

[kookaburra1701]

🐈💛🍛 For our favourite orc <3

Thank you for the ask! From the emoji ask game here.

🐈CAT — does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends?

Khemor would say that he prefers a few close friends. There are many people who would look at the circle of people he is is friendly with and be surprised, or think that he is fooling himself. Because of his diplomatic skillset, Khemor does enjoy meeting new people and is very good at maintaining several circles of "friends," and you won't realize you weren't in his closest circle until you're let into the next tier. He'll send congratulations on your cousin's daughter's promotion to third flautist in the Solitude Children's Chamber Orchestra and remember your birthday and all your food sensitivities; make you feel like the most important and interesting person on Nirn when you're speaking to him...and most people never realize he hasn't told them anything about himself or his own thoughts, emotions, or vulnerabilities beyond surface pleasantries.

💛YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

Khemor is quite the polyglot! His first language was likely some dialect of Osh Ornim, but as he was abandoned and taken in by a mage from a Crown family before he was five years old, he lost it quickly and grew up speaking Yoku at home, and Yoku and Cyrodiilic around Skaven. Like any well-educated mage, he can read, write, and speak Aldmeris, High Elvish, and Bretic fluently. He has knowledge of dead languages such as Ayleidoon and Dwemeris, though since he has risen high enough in the ranks of the College of Whispers to make free use of the scribes and scriptorium, he has become a little rusty. During his time in the Cynosure of the College of Whispers, he became familiar enough with "street" Ta'agra that he could mostly avoid being cheated by Khajiiti merchants that came over the border, but he will be first to admit that his accent is atrocious. In Skyrim, after being revealed to be the Dragonborn, he spent an entire winter with the Greybeards, learning Dovahzul. Now that it is becoming evident that he will not be able to return to his home in Cyrodiil, Khemor is also focusing on becoming fluent in Nordic to better be able to assimilate to Skyrim's culture. After Alduin's defeat, and Ulfric Stormcloak's victory, Khemor has devoted himself to shoring up the place of the newly liberated Skyrim in Tamriel's geopolitical landscape. This means quite a bit of diplomatic work with other independent nations like Hammerfell and Morrowind. Khemor keeps meaning to pick up Dunmeris, at least to be able to converse with House Redoran envoys and ambassadors in their own language, but because of his close association with Ulfric Stormcloak, there aren't many Dunmer in Windhelm who would go out of their way to help him practice.

🍛 CURRY AND RICE — what does your oc's typical dinner look like? do they usually eat dinner?

If left to his own devices, Khemor would definitely not usually eat dinner. He tends to get distracted and absorbed in his research and forgets to eat. Fortunately he has two housecarls who do a good job reminding him when it's dinnertime. Dinner at Hjerim is usually a simple affair, but with high quality food and cuts of meat as would befit a Thane. Barley bread is a staple, as it is easy to grow even in the harsh climate of Eastmarch, though fine white wheat flour is well within his means to acquire when it is available. Fish, either herring or salmon fresh from the docks, or whatever special Aval Atheron has at his butcher's stall in the market provide the bulk of the protein. Root vegetables such as beets, radishes, carrots, and turnips also regularly make an appearance, especially in skause or pottage. When he can get the beans imported from Hammerfell, he always has a small cup of coffee after dinner.

#skyrim oc asks #skyrim oc #oc: khemor gro-skaven #ask games #kbs asks

[kookaburra1701]

So I've been having a heckuvalot of fun playing around with the premium features on Hero Forge. Everyone, please say hi to Khemor gro-Skaven. He's the Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Thane of Eastmarch and the Pale, and a necromancer, formerly of the College of Whispers.

#oc: khemor gro-skaven #orc #orsimer #osh ornim #hero forge #the last dragonborn #tes v:skyrim #tesblr #hot orc summer