#skyrim scene

[fithragaer]

This happens when you follow me btw

#image #tes #oblivion #perso #I love the mechanics of factions in oblivion #it’s present in fo3/nv/skyrim too #so many little things working behind the scenes #for example these are so the undead won’t just attack each other when they’re in the same dungeon #except liches who are only their own faction to add the tags that they fucking hate all necromancers and vampires #but are still cool with random ghosts and zombies and stuff #ok goodnight #the posts

[tanithias-art-blog]

2024-04-15 cat in the rain (with a video that condenses 10 1/2 hours of work into 30 seconds). Remember this? I shared it as a WIP on my other blog back in October or November, maybe, before I went into the winter slump. This morning, sitting on the porch enjoying the spring rain with my kitties, I finally felt inspired to finish it!

#tanithia draws #digital art #not skyrim! #cat #rain #night scene

[silusvesuius]

wednesday is a success

#tes #skyrim #elenwen #general tullius #my art #2nd pic inspired by that one scene in that movie aal*yah starred in i need to watch it actually. for her only

[decoyhounds]

can someone please tell me i'm not the only person who immediately thought of this

#literally the second i watched the scene #IT HAS TO BE A REFERENCE #it's too funny #gen v #jordan li #limoreau #marie moreau #mariejordan #skyrim #jordan li x marie moreau

[its-sixxers]

wip i’m posting because i might never flesh it out

u done goofed, ulfric

#tes #elder scrolls #skyrim #the last dragonborn #ulfric stormcloak #this is idunn's redemption scene and how she gets her fuckhuge bounty on her head #art #fanart #wip #oc: idunn / dragonborn

[mazurga]

No basis for a system of government

#skyrim #gif #elder scrolls #i think i've quoted every possible bit of that scene #except for arthur's lines #i've made a bunch of gifs of this over the years! #ifttt

[gortrash]

Child of Stendarr, kneel before me and obey. Surrender your soul to me. Do this, and I promise you a swift death. | VIGILANT - ACT 1

#poor altano #everything about this scene is iconic ok #yeet that vigilant molly #skyrim vigilant #vigilant mod #skyrim #molag bal #tes #jade's gifs

[thekatbirdscrolls]

the lake ilinalta area is just one of the prettiest areas of the game

#skyrim #tes #whiterun plains has very dramatic twilight scenes as well

[jiubilant]

12 (candles) if youd like :)

12. candles

The lawman’s desk is a heavy old thing, hard-cornered, strewn with billets, bills, and bobs—and tall tallow-candles, pale and slender as a gentry-mort’s throat, standing in ship-shaped silver chambersticks. The urchin stands tippy-toed to stare at them. If she snatches them and bolts, she thinks, she could fence them dockside for a rum sum. Her hands twitch. Her own mug, blank with terror, stares back at her from the polished plate.

“The contracts are in order,” says the lawman, reaching for his quill. Then his hand stops. Through silver-rimmed spectacles, he sizes up the urchin: her togs, her scabby ears, the bald tip of her tail. The hard corners of his mouth turn down. “And—this is the child in question?”

The clerk to whom the urchin will be prenticed, unless she darts out with the chambersticks, drums two calm fingers on his cane. “Yes.”

Auntie, the urchin reminds herself over the hammering of her heart, had told her to mind him. She wouldn't disobey Auntie, never. But Auntie hadn't known, surely, that her turncoat-toff brother would march the urchin straight into a cunning-man's office, where rogues like her get their fortunes read—

"—right, hla?" the clerk is saying, for some reason.

He’d told her outside to bow to the lawman when addressed. Now they’re both looking at her—the clerk with furrowed brow, the lawman fitting her for a noose with just his eyes—and the urchin’s back feels like a wooden beam, and her tongue feels like something growing on it. She manages to nod.

“Well.” The lawman gives the clerk a pointed look, then scans the contracts again. “No bond of surety. No pension provided for the child’s upkeep. You understand that you are, therefore, obliged to provide for her out-of-pocket for the duration of her indenture?”

The urchin, half-listening, imagines the ship-shaped chambersticks sailing away: candle-flames flickering, silver prows carving the sea. She imagines herself in one. The clerk's curt voice drifts down to her as if through water. “Yes.”

“That you are, for said duration, liable for her in every particular—"

“Quite.”

“Well.” With an ironic flourish of his quill, the lawman makes his mark. “You Company people dredge up your prentices from the damnedest places. All right, Master Rano, she’s yours if you sign.”

She’ll do it, the urchin thinks, eyeing the silver glims. She’ll kick the stick out from under the old scribbler, so as he can’t grab her, and be out the door like that. She shifts her weight in preparation—

"My thanks," says the clerk breezily, and whisks the contracts from the lawman's desk. He blows on the ink to dry it—the candles sputter, as does the lawman—then drops the rolls into the wide-eyed urchin's arms. "Hold onto those, for now, and let's be off. Stuffy in here."

"Why—" The lawman, turning red, straightens his spectacles. "You've not signed!"

The clerk's cloak swirls about him as he turns. The look with which he fixes the lawman is one of perfect, polite concern. "Need I do it now?"

"A notary must witness the signature—"

"I'm a notary," says the clerk brightly, and billows out the door.

They're halfway down the street before the urchin realizes that her legs are moving. Wobbling, too. She hugs the contracts close and slows to a practiced stroll, keeping to the scribbler's shadow, because only the greenest dabbers get caught hurrying in broad daylight—

The clerk, she realizes, is talking to her again.

"—all right?" he asks, looking down his long nose. She's never seen such a beak on any bird. He doesn't look like Auntie at all, she thinks, her chest all tight. Auntie had never stared at her like that, brow creased, as though the urchin had been put together wrong.

Whatever he'd said, twice now, he wants her to agree. She swallows and drops her eyes to his boots. "Right."

The clerk studies her. Then he sinks stiffly to one knee.

"I asked if you're all right," he says, still looking at her in that odd, painful way. "It's a bit much, I expect, all this. How old are you?"

The urchin doesn't know. She wants to cringe away. She flicks her ears back instead, trying to come off fierce. "I were the biggest of Auntie's lot. Quickest, too. She"—her voice cracks, and she squares her shoulders to compensate—"she wouldn't have shipped me here if I weren't best."

It's true, she tells herself, trying not to breathe too funny. No lilligut would stroll into a lawman's office, swell as you like, and connive to nab his chambersticks besides. No coward would swimmer to far Haafingar to learn a dayman's trade, and be a prentice, and all. She won't run off. She can't cock this up, she thinks, peering over all the tickrum in her arms, or she's every sort of stupid.

She's starting to understand the look on the clerk's face. It's sad, somehow.

"What did you do," he asks, "for my sister?"

The lawman's isn't twenty steps behind them. The urchin's lie comes prompt and proper; not even a tail-twitch betrays her. "Errands."

"Really?" The clerk's voice is dry as ash. "When I was your age, she had me crawling down outlanders' chimneys to steal their limeware."

The image is so ridiculous—this spindly cove, Auntie's selfsame kin, folded up in a flue like a concertina—that the urchin barks a single startled laugh, involuntary as a sneeze. The clerk blinks at her, astonished. Then he grins.

"Hold onto those," he says again, and levers himself to his feet. "I shouldn't have hurried you to the hiring-hall straight off. At the end of the day, if you find the prospect of a Company apprenticeship, ah, amenable, give them back to me." His voice goes gentler. "There's a place for you to sign, too."

It's a lot of binnacle-words. The urchin blinks up at him, warily fascinated, and mouths one: men-a-bull.

"I know some already," she says hesitantly. "About the Company. About—stuff."

"Stuff."

"And fustian."

"Ah." The clerk's smile is canny as Auntie's. "Well, to supplement your knowledge—why don't we begin with the market rate for silver?"

[send me a number, and i’ll write a microfic using the word or phrase!]

#these two again to start. figured this scene would nicely bookend the last piece #skyrim #microfic #oc tag #shurri #ravi

[arcanewonder]

beyond the throat of the world.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 render #skyrim save #rowan #i give you credit if you can recognition my shitty sims personification of #my skyrim followers for rowan's save #i'll give the first person who guesses them all correctly except the dunmer at the end #a lil' x-mas present of my of my render scenes or redecorated builds of their choice #because the guy at the end is the only ec companion #i'm using for sure for rowan's squad #eye edits

[illumiera]

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak, Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Miraak Characters: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Miraak (Elder Scrolls), Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dreamsharing, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fairy Tale Elements, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Time Travel Summary:

“What a shame that your fate is to die so that I may have my freedom.”

Laat Dovahkiin tilts up her chin. “I have slain the World-Eater, crossed into Sovngarde a living woman, and returned alive. Surely I am beyond fate by now.”

“But you are not beyond mine, mal dovahdin,” Miraak tells her.

* * *

Once a runaway noblewoman from High Rock, now the famed saviour of Skyrim, Elentari vows to do her duty when a new threat rises on the island of Solstheim. What she expects is an enemy like all the rest. Instead, she meets Miraak, a man whose very soul calls out to her own, and she begins to wonder just how closely their fates are intertwined—and if the First and the Last Dragonborn can defy the destiny set aside for them both.

#miraak #miraak x ldb #skyrim #i fear no fate (for you are my fate) #oc: elentari #otp: i fear no fate (for you are my fate) #is this a chapter i see before me? (macbeth act 2 scene 1)

[omegatheimmortaldragonborn]

Character Study: Idolaf Battle-Born

Because I'm tired of seeing how quickly people kill him off, let's see if I can get myself to understand why you would OR show you why you shouldn't.

Feel free to request a character study in my ask box! It will help me keep track of them!

Neurological traits & Personality

There's a good chance he's neurodivergent, please bare with as I'm using my own experiences with this.

This isn't to say this is how all ND people act, although I shouldn't have to clarify that

He has a strong sense of justice - we see this with the imperial legion, he's a very strong supporter

He seems to lack the ability to feel empathy - eg. When talking to Fralia at the market (this isn't to say this applies to all ND people, as some experience quite the opposite)

While this could be just the voice acting, his voice lacks emotion (which i personally struggle with)

He doesn't actually seem to hate the Gray-Manes, only their choice in support. There's no dialogue in game where he insults or "drags" any of the family members. While yes, he can say he wants to throw Avulstein in jail, this can be linked back to the strong sense of justice

THORALD!!! He was looking into it himself, and if your speech is high enough you can persuade him to tell you. While his reasoning is blurry, it can be presumed he asked about because of concern. He mentions that they used to be friends, no doubt close too.

He knew the risks of asking about him, and he tells us he was told to mind his business but kept pushing for an answer

He believes letting the Gray-Manes think Thorald died would've been easier than telling them that no, he's alive, held captive by the Thalmor, in a place where you don't ever come out, and probably being tortured. - sense of Justice AGAIN

He gives you the letter anyway, too!

The market scene reinforces the lack of empathy theory, and the strong sense of justice, because he clearly cared enough about Thorald to go asking about him, had his answers (worse case scenario ones too) and came to the conclusion she was better off not knowing.

I think people tend to forget he grew up around the Gray-Manes too, so he's going to know their character alot better than the DB ever will.

Fralia already seems heartbroken over him going missing, which is probably why he made the decision not to tell her.

Often considered prideful, for example - would rather bend his knee to Ulfric than ask Eorlund for help. Again though, he grew up with the Gray-Manes and so them not picking the same side he did probably hurt like a bitch. (Sense of justiceeee)

Parenting

This part is the only part where I can fully understand why people may not like him as Lars is still being bullied.

There may be multiple reasons for this

Lars hasn't told him - very unlikely though since Alfhild (Idolafs wife) knows about it but he may just be closer with her

Has a more traditional approach to it, and tries to get him to stand up to her, which is most likely as it seems to be a common theme throughout Nords in general that you handle your own problems.

He has spoken to Armen and/or Sapphia about Braiths behaviour, but nothing came of it. Which to be fair is also a decent possibility, as someone who has been bullied most of my school life, typically parental intervention never really helps 💀

Other than that, he seems to try a decent amount. He tries to keep Lars out of trouble with the guards (climbing Dragonsreach cannot be legal 💀🤣), and Lars is outside most of the day too so he probably encourages him to play with the other kids in the hold. (Maybe not braith but yknow)

Anyway, if there's something I've missed feel free to leave a reply, I'm happy to try and explain them some more! :> not that I'm expecting anyone to see this like who actually scrolls Idolaf's tag 💀

Me, I do :)

#Idolaf Battle-Born #skyrim #whiterun #i think he's very overlooked and hated #especially after that market scene #rambles #Rexus' Character Study

[ehlnofay]

Efri thinks she’s found the library.

“Woah,” she says, letting the door swing shut behind her. (Loudly. The doors here are so heavy.) Her voice echoes off the stone walls. She feels like she’s stepped into some story, like an exaggerated version of what a mage’s college would be.

It’s not that she’s never heard of a library before or anything. She understands them, conceptually. But the most books she’s ever seen at once was the small set of shelves in Rorik’s manor, and even that blew her away the first time – all the pretty bindings and close-written words. This is –

The College library is something else. It’s a lot bigger than a set of shelves.

Winding, narrow hallways bend and squiggle around like a set of earthworms trying to squish together to make a solid shape with no gaps, and every single wall is lined with books. Each shelf is like a rainbow of covers and colours. Half the spines are thick as at least two fingers put together and written over with words she can’t read. Efri has to bring Sissel here. She’d lose her mind.

“Woah,” she says again, and steps further in to look at the books on the shelves. All the bindings in blacks and blues and browns. One has the title written down the spine in gold lettering that shines. She brings up a hand to touch it.

“What are you doing?” someone demands. Efri stops. She looks.

It’s a grumpy-looking orc man in a bright yellow tunic, glaring at her much fiercer than seems necessary for the crime of looking at books in a library. He looks like he might be old – his hair’s white enough that his beard’s the same colour as his sharp sticking-out teeth, and he’s wrinkly.  Efri wrinkles her nose and tells him, “I’m looking at the books.”

“Wash your hands first,” he barks, turning his much-too-angry glare on Efri’s hovering arms. “You look like the sort of person to have grubby fingers.”

It’s true, but Efri is offended anyway. She wipes her palms hard against her orange wool skirt. (The skirt is grey at the hem from playing in dirty snow. It does not make her any cleaner.)

“Who’re you?” she asks the rude man. “I haven’t met you yet.”

He does not stop scowling. Maybe he’s perpetually angry. Maybe he just has an unfortunate face. But he says, “I’m the Arcaeneum archivist. Urag gro-Shub.”

The Arcaeneum, that’s what the library’s called. Very fancy name. (Sissel will love it. And has Kazari been here yet? They might like it too. She’s pretty sure they can read, though probably not these fiddly little paper books.) “What’s an archivist?”

“I maintain the library.” The archivist Urag gro-Shub might be grumpy and not very nice but at least he didn’t do the thing where he sighed all annoyed at Efri’s question. “I choose when and to whom the books are lent, and I ensure they are not damaged. Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection, and it’s going to stay pristine.”

“Is that book hundreds of years old?” Efri asks, pointing to the showy tome with the writing in gold.

Urag barely glances at it, dark eyes flashing in the vague direction of her pointing finger and flashing back again. “No. That’s historical fiction written in 185. That copy was made within these last ten years.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Efri says.

“Bejewelled Tragedy. Four hundred pages. Horrendously inaccurate. Frankly, it wasn’t worth acquiring in the first place. Feel free to look for yourself.”

Efri will take his word for it.

“This section is for the books that are up for purchase,” he tells her, gesturing. “The worthwhile ones – and the old ones, if those are what you’re looking for – are further in.”

Efri squints down the passages again, their bright lights and cosy winding walls. She can’t tell where this section ends and the next one starts. She feels like if she went any further into the library she’d get lost. She says, “Thanks. I’m Efri, by the way.”

“I know. You’re that kid who showed up.”

“One of,” Efri corrects.

Urag keeps talking, rolling right past like he didn’t hear her. “Don’t know why in the name of all that’s been called holy they let you in. You’d think this would be a step too far, even –” he huffs and snaps his jaw shut, tusks digging into his moustache. He says, “At any rate. You’re here now, and you’re subject to the same rules as everyone else. You treat these books as careful as if they were your own firstborn children, understand? And if there’s something you want to find – or especially take out of the Arcaeneum – you come talk to me.”

Efri nods obediently. What time would it be right now? The lecture Sissel went to was almost two hours, and it’s definitely only been about one. She asks, “Are there any books with pictures?”

She’s not sure if it’s just the shape of his mouth or if he’s sneering. Urag says, “That depends. Are you going to respect the books enough to try to read the words too?”

“That depends,” Efri retorts, nettled. (She gets that he’s protective of the collection, but there’s no need to be rude about it.) “Are your books going to teach me how to read?”

Urag stares.

“You can’t read,” he replies, sounding vaguely offended, as though she, at six years of age, had refused to attend the village school for the express purpose of spiting him four years later.

Efri pulls a book out of the shelf without looking at it, ignoring the way he huffs. There’s nothing embossed on the spine or the cover, but there’s a title scribbled on the first page. “That’s a B,” she says, pointing to the first letter of the first word, and then stops, squinting. Switches her focus to a different word. “That one says off.”

“Of,” Urag corrects over her shoulder.

Efri shrugs. She snaps the book shut and slips it back into its place on the shelf. “I can read a bit,” she says. “I know my letters and that. The books here are just big.”

And given that she’d failed to correctly identify of, even small stories might be a bit beyond her skill level.

Urag is quiet. Efri looks back at him, mostly expecting him to still be looking affronted, as though she’d stolen food out of his mouth and thrown it at a wall – instead he looks oddly, blankly thoughtful.

“We don’t have anything suitable for early readers,” he says, tapping his fingers against his leg. “That might be an oversight.”

Efri really doesn’t think it is. “It’s a big fancy library, right? I think it’s normal to just collect the big fancy books.” All the ones that are hundreds of years old, or about magic or important things, or both.

Urag’s knuckles rap against a buckle on his belt. He says, “No! First misconception. A worthwhile collection archives all the work on its focus possible. The Arcaeneum is a collection of knowledge in every form. Therefore, we have as many books as we can access, on all sorts of topics. Half of them aren’t even good!”

“You sell the bad ones,” Efri says, trying to follow.

“Some of them. If they’re wholly without merit. Mostly I sell duplicates. Or works no-one has ever used. There’s things to be learned from everything – if not now, later. I’ll think on it.”

He looks back at Efri, looking a bit like he might have forgot she was there. “Regardless. Do you need anything, or can I get back to work?”

He’s still all rude and prickly. Efri bristles a bit. “I wasn’t keeping you,” she says, flicking her eyes again over the strange and wandering walls.

Urag sighs again like he’s got any right to be annoyed with her, but then he asks, “Would you like a tour of the Arcaeneum?”

“Do you want to give it?”

“You’ve already distracted me,” he says. Adds less irritably, “And I enjoy a chance to show off the collection. Long as you don’t interrupt me.”

“I’m going to interrupt you,” Efri informs him. She doesn’t like to be told what to do.

She lets him show her the library.

#I need to post more of efri in winterhold... it's sooo much fun #I'm slowly making my way through the story still. figuring out mzulft rn #this piece I wrote a while ago but I like it #urag is going I cannot BELIEVE we don't have any early reader books. this is a grave archival oversight!! #and efri is going ok man. #(he is very earnest about this. he wants the arcaeneum to have Everything in it. the idea that it doesn't is not to be borne) #after this scene ends efri is appropriately impressed by the library contents #and urag makes her a shitty little booklet made of stitched-together scrap paper to help her learn to read #(man cannot interact with children for the life of him but he is very invested in literacy) #oc tag #efri #the elder scrolls #skyrim #tes #tesblr #fay writes #my writing #urag gro shub #college of winterhold #arcaeneum #microfic

[shitty-miraak]

Miraak, in full armour, coming out of a dragon egg, because he is a dragon born. (Do dragons lay eggs in the ES series? No. Do I care? Also no.)

Miraak Goes To See A Play About Himself

#miraak #skyrim #tes fanart #the elder scrolls #this is inspired by one of the only atla scenes i know #the one where they're watching a play about themselves

[the-sunlit-earth]

Talvas, playing errand boy, stops to try out some of this "Hot Cocoa"☕ that Fethis had imported. Talvas loves it! ..Oh? This scarf? W-Why are you asking who gave it to him? Stop teasing, you're making him blush! 😳

#it was fun working in this 'reduced-lineart/more shading and texture' style :D #...have i ever told you that i <3 Talvas? a lot? yes? it's all i ever say??? sorry ;-; #why yes a certain Breton girl DID knit him a scarf as a present :3 #have you SEEN how much exposed skin he has at the neck? in THIS climate?? *shivers* #elder scrolls #skyrim #Talvas Fathryon #dunmer #dark elf #snowy winter scene #probably my magnum opus even if it's not perfect #he's just a precious scarfy boi <3 #if only Master Neloth felt the same 😔 #my art #my posts

[ana6aena]

I've been very very busy, but have this anyway ✨

I still want to draw the rest of the scene but it'll take a long time, so...

#that scene from the Teldryn Serious mod #i love them your honor #teldryn sero #geldis sadri #the elder scrolls #skyrim #skyrim fanart #the elder scrolls fanart