Izicata
AE ALTADOON GHARTOK PADHOME
If Kim Jong-Il snorted enough divine power to make his insane crazy made-up backstory retroactively true, do you really think he wouldn't do it?
My Older Siblings Cannot be the Dragonborn (Skyrim SI)
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
What does that even mean?
We really only have his word for that being the case. He was a god king of Morrowind with powers of life and death for a couple thousand years, that's plenty of time to spread some bullshit around.
Izicata
AE ALTADOON GHARTOK PADHOME
Vivec had the power to do it and Vivec had the ego to do it. Why would you think he wouldn't do it?
Basically, it is my belief that anything in print in the TES universe saying things about the Tribunal was there because they wanted it there, they all had the time, motivation, and power to ensure it. Therefore nothing in the in-universe lore regarding them can be regarded as a trustworthy source.
frozenchicken
Does not have a custom title.
Yeah, but I think Izicata is arguing a specific point. Some portion of the stuff Vivec spouts is obviously true, without even needing his words to tell us that.
Everyone who finished Morrowind knows that Vivec really is divinely empowered, capable of hacking reality (see the Ministry of Truth), and possessed of sufficient esoteric insight to know not to pick a fight with the Nerevarine (even though he was apparently ballsy enough to pick a fight with Azura afterwards. This was in-game lore too, but since it was written after vivec died, I'm willing to consider it).
He's a fraudster, but he wasn't lying about having powers beyond the reach of mortals, only about how he got those powers.
Everyone who finished Morrowind knows that Vivec really is divinely empowered, capable of hacking reality (see the Ministry of Truth), and possessed of sufficient esoteric insight to know not to pick a fight with the Nerevarine (even though he was apparently ballsy enough to pick a fight with Azura afterwards. This was in-game lore too, but since it was written after vivec died, I'm willing to consider it).
He's a fraudster, but he wasn't lying about having powers beyond the reach of mortals, only about how he got those powers.
Science
If you're reading this, omae wa mo shindeiru.
- Location
- Killeen, TX
What, too good to make a typo? Pretty sure shade doesn't have an editor proof-reading every story post. That's what we're for.
Mizu
Software Developer
- Location
- Victoria, Australia
Can confirm, I find errors in his posts sometimes and report 'em. Like I do for basically any story on the net
Raviollius
...but what happens afterwards?
- Location
- .
The dragonstone marking named dragon's graveyards is what actually happens in the game. So unless Umbra is thinking about something else, mistaken for some reason, or Shadenight simply went through Skyrim without caring about the other dragon burial sites but the one the storyline forces you to(understandable), it doesn't make sense.
Please, don't do this. In the scenario the author is actually wrong(it happens), it puts them in a bad position. Everyone is fallible.
Last edited:
- Location
- UTC -6
Vivec knew it couldn't be true.
He had to know this because his powers don't come from his enlightenment, but from using the Heart of Lorkhan to blend himself with a version of Vehk that did have enlightenment powers. Once the Heart is gone he retains a measure of power from his worshippers and what he's figured out, but is weakened because he can no longer draw forth the glory that could-be because it was never true in the first place.
Vivec wroth that damn book to hijack philosophies that were already prevalent among the Dunmer. To place himself above the beings that were admired while he had the power to contest the wills of the Daedric princes. Some of it is as true as anything else on Nirn, the popular theories of the day, but lots of it is boasting that Vivec could smite you over if you call him on it.
Basically: What does God need with a set of Dewmer tools and a remnant of Lorkhan?
The tribunal are fakes. This is why they couldn't stop Tiber Septim, why they couldn't change the Nerevarine prophecy, why Dagoth Ur was kicking their haughty behinds. Vivec writing 36 babbles on how he is the most awesome thing ever doesn't change this.
*Gets smote by an angry Tribunal*
So, how 'bout them dragons? Umbra's going to need to work his mouth overtime once he runs into one of them. Delphine could also be a problem if his mouth gets ahead of his good sense ("I can't explain why I know you're a blade, but I'm a friend!").
Except then it'll turn out she's actually not a Blade, just a surly innkeeper who likes giving the cook/barman shit.
Chaos Blade
Procrastinating Writer
- Location
- Buenos Aires, Argentina
Deathlords and dragons sounds like a kick ass tabletop name... it needs to happen!
(but what about Deathlords Dragons? a weird strange and obscene melding of both! fun for the whole family!)
Chapter Thirteen - Riverwood - 20th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Thirteen - Riverwood - 20th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
A good night of sleep was everything that I dreamed of, and much more. It was also hell, because I had to share the large bed with Dragnor. He farted. He farted in his sleep as if someone had put a pressure boiler in his stomach and inserted the option up yourself in noise, smell and disgust. I reckoned that perhaps if I found a plug and had the courage to plug the gas leak up, then perhaps it would all cease.
But it didn't, and I had no intentions of looking at another man's ass long enough to plug it. I shuddered and did my best to scuttle as near to the bed's other side as possible. I could have slept with Ralvas, or Sharrum. I was sure they weren't this disgusting. Was this my punishment? Oh Tiber Septim, why won't you just kill me rather than force me to smell in this mixture of rank and sweat? Where are the glorious showers, or even the baths? I'll take a large basin filled with hot water too!
If that's not possible, then at least have mercy on my poor self!
I crawled out of bed, deciding that the excuse of finding a latrine, or more probably a hole in which to excuse myself, would be the better option.
Surprisingly, there was a latrine behind the pub. It was also a night where my skin turned blue from sheer contact with the wind, a night filled with stars and the moon big and wide in the sky. It was breathtaking.
"You know Tiber," I muttered, "There's this guy back in old Hrodan who's still waiting for your sword," I whispered out through chattering teeth, before deciding against my own judgment that the better part of godliness was cleanliness, and heading to the river to wash my hands. "And if the Dragonborn doesn't sleep in your old room, he doesn't even appear. It's like...he's just a footnote of it all. What Dragonborn ever slept there? Why sleep when you can just hack and slash your way through by chugging potions?" I mumbled even as I stopped by the river's shores, taking a deep breath and plunging my hands into the cold grips of icy water.
I rubbed them raw for a bit, before pulling them out, wiping them on my clothes.
"And that's not the only story, is it? There are a lot of sad stories. How about we fix a few, between you and I? I mean, I can withstand pain. No matter how badly it will hurt, as long as we get to find a path that has the least amount of deaths..." I mumbled, gazing at my reflection in the water. "Having faith is something, knowing for sure another," I added.
The reflection did nothing, but then again, I hadn't expected her to. I glanced up at the stars, expecting the constellations to shine brighter than the rest, only to exhale as I didn't notice anything different in them. They were stars, but that was it.
I stepped back inside the inn just in time to watch a half-asleep Berry prepare herself to leave.
I gazed at her, and she looked back at me with her eyes wide, as if not expecting to be caught leaving in the middle of the night. I wouldn't have thought about her doing it, but the Gods apparently had, why else fill my bladder? Seriously though Tiber, we need to come up with better signals. Can't you just send me a messenger?
"It doesn't matter where you go, or how you go," I whispered quite calmly with an awkward smile, "The Gods will always make us meet until you accept your destiny."
"Fuck that," Berry hissed, now wide awake as she hoisted her sack a bit better on her shoulder. "I'm not some tool of the Gods."
"Me neither," I shrugged, "But the difference lies in whenever one comes to relish the role he is cast upon, or fights against it until his dying breath. In the end though, fate cannot be overcome. But if you enjoy the rising tide, if you ride along the wave, then you can witness the greatest of things, and take pleasure out of it." I grinned as I gestured at the nearby bench, the silence of the inn deafening as no one actually bothered with stealing the simple wooden plates and crude iron cutlery in the middle of the night. I sat down, and plopped my chin on my open palm. "Come on now, young one. Lay your doubts bare, tell me your fears, and let me assuage them."
"Assuage?" Berry mumbled, "What does it even mean?" she plopped her sack by the side of the bench and sat down, huffing.
"It means either to make an unpleasant feeling less intense, or to satisfy one's desires," I replied. "So...what's up?"
"The ceiling," Berry replied with a crude grimace of her face, "That and then the sky, and the stars, and the moon," she said.
"Yes, not in that sense," I muttered, "What's on your mind?"
Berry looked straight at the fire, still crackling in the pit in front of us, and then exhaled loudly. "I can't be the Dragonborn just because I know how to read an old piece of stone."
"You're right. You aren't the Dragonborn just because of that," I said, "there is more to it, and it's even scarier than simply reading from an old stone, but you braved a tomb filled with forgotten monstrosities, isn't that a show of courage too?"
"Yes, but not like this," Berry said. "It was a question of...of choosing which way I'd die. I thought that between dying alone or with someone else, the latter seemed less grim."
"Death is always grim, but it's the cycle of life and death, and Arkay watches over it," I acquiesced. "And even now, you can pick whether you wish to die alone, out there in the wilds after a life of banditry, or become something more, and perhaps yes, still die, but in company." I smiled. "Who wouldn't want to die with someone like me by their side, I wonder?" I patted my chest.
"Pretty much everyone I knew," Berry said with a dry chuckle. "Let's say I am the Dragonborn," she began, "What am I supposed to do? Go bring peace to Skyrim?"
"Nah," I said, "You just have to stop Alduin, the World-Eater, from devouring the world and bringing the dragons back to life."
Berry stared at me as if expecting the punch-line to come. When it didn't, she stiffly stood up after grabbing her sack. "I'm leaving."
"It doesn't matter," I replied, not even bothering to stand. "You'll be back," I smiled. "May the Nine protect you, and should we never meet again, then know that the place of my death shall be in Whiterun, where a Dragon will first attack."
"It's not funny," Berry hissed out, "Not funny at all."
"Life seldom is," I said as I nodded, "that's why you've got to make it funny by yourself."
She took a couple of steps towards the door of the inn, "I'm not seeing the Gods stopping me from leaving," she said as she placed a hand on the inn's door. "See you around, crybaby."
"Sooner than you might think, Dragonborn," I replied, watching her leave and close the door behind her. I waited a few heartbeats, and then the sound of thunder echoed up in the air. I glanced out of the nearby window at the gathering clouds, and then at the sudden downpour which seemed to come down pretty strongly as the inn's door rattled open a second later. Berry gasped, her armor made of fur and leather utterly soaked.
I smiled.
"You could have braved the storm," I said gingerly.
Berry slumped down by my side, and then proceeded to shake the water out of her fur as if she were a wet dog, forcing me to wince and shudder at how cold the water in question was. "This is typical," Berry said in a hiss, "When it stops, I'll leave."
"You don't really want to leave, do you?" I whispered, "You're just scared of not being good enough."
"I don't care if I die fighting," Berry snapped angrily. "I am ready to kill, even now you're simply testing my patience and good heart," she growled. "Fear isn't something we Nord feel."
"If you say so," I hummed, "Then why are you running away from your destiny?"
"I am not running away. I am refusing, willfully, to become something I'm not. You become the Dragonborn in my place. With how you've been spouting your love for the Nine, I think they should just pick you and let me be," Berry said.
I glanced at the fire, "I'll be your shield for as long as you ask, my friend."
"We are not friends," Berry said with a half-choked hiss, averting her gaze, "Acquaintances, maybe, but friends? Don't oversell yourself, you crybaby pants-wetting Imperial." Silence fell for a few seconds, as a log in the fire pit cracked in half. "I'd best go back to sleep," she mumbled. "But this doesn't mean you managed to convince me to do anything. I'm just not going to leave while a storm is running amok over our heads."
I grinned and nodded, "See you tomorrow then."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she said as she stood up, headed for her room.
I turned to look at the window, where the rain incessantly hit against it.
"She's Tsundere, isn't she?"
The rain, most aptly, chose not to reply.
I had no choice but to return to my own private form of hell, but this time, surprisingly, Dragnor's rank and smell had disappeared.
Truly, the Gods worked in mysterious ways.
A good night of sleep was everything that I dreamed of, and much more. It was also hell, because I had to share the large bed with Dragnor. He farted. He farted in his sleep as if someone had put a pressure boiler in his stomach and inserted the option up yourself in noise, smell and disgust. I reckoned that perhaps if I found a plug and had the courage to plug the gas leak up, then perhaps it would all cease.
But it didn't, and I had no intentions of looking at another man's ass long enough to plug it. I shuddered and did my best to scuttle as near to the bed's other side as possible. I could have slept with Ralvas, or Sharrum. I was sure they weren't this disgusting. Was this my punishment? Oh Tiber Septim, why won't you just kill me rather than force me to smell in this mixture of rank and sweat? Where are the glorious showers, or even the baths? I'll take a large basin filled with hot water too!
If that's not possible, then at least have mercy on my poor self!
I crawled out of bed, deciding that the excuse of finding a latrine, or more probably a hole in which to excuse myself, would be the better option.
Surprisingly, there was a latrine behind the pub. It was also a night where my skin turned blue from sheer contact with the wind, a night filled with stars and the moon big and wide in the sky. It was breathtaking.
"You know Tiber," I muttered, "There's this guy back in old Hrodan who's still waiting for your sword," I whispered out through chattering teeth, before deciding against my own judgment that the better part of godliness was cleanliness, and heading to the river to wash my hands. "And if the Dragonborn doesn't sleep in your old room, he doesn't even appear. It's like...he's just a footnote of it all. What Dragonborn ever slept there? Why sleep when you can just hack and slash your way through by chugging potions?" I mumbled even as I stopped by the river's shores, taking a deep breath and plunging my hands into the cold grips of icy water.
I rubbed them raw for a bit, before pulling them out, wiping them on my clothes.
"And that's not the only story, is it? There are a lot of sad stories. How about we fix a few, between you and I? I mean, I can withstand pain. No matter how badly it will hurt, as long as we get to find a path that has the least amount of deaths..." I mumbled, gazing at my reflection in the water. "Having faith is something, knowing for sure another," I added.
The reflection did nothing, but then again, I hadn't expected her to. I glanced up at the stars, expecting the constellations to shine brighter than the rest, only to exhale as I didn't notice anything different in them. They were stars, but that was it.
I stepped back inside the inn just in time to watch a half-asleep Berry prepare herself to leave.
I gazed at her, and she looked back at me with her eyes wide, as if not expecting to be caught leaving in the middle of the night. I wouldn't have thought about her doing it, but the Gods apparently had, why else fill my bladder? Seriously though Tiber, we need to come up with better signals. Can't you just send me a messenger?
"It doesn't matter where you go, or how you go," I whispered quite calmly with an awkward smile, "The Gods will always make us meet until you accept your destiny."
"Fuck that," Berry hissed, now wide awake as she hoisted her sack a bit better on her shoulder. "I'm not some tool of the Gods."
"Me neither," I shrugged, "But the difference lies in whenever one comes to relish the role he is cast upon, or fights against it until his dying breath. In the end though, fate cannot be overcome. But if you enjoy the rising tide, if you ride along the wave, then you can witness the greatest of things, and take pleasure out of it." I grinned as I gestured at the nearby bench, the silence of the inn deafening as no one actually bothered with stealing the simple wooden plates and crude iron cutlery in the middle of the night. I sat down, and plopped my chin on my open palm. "Come on now, young one. Lay your doubts bare, tell me your fears, and let me assuage them."
"Assuage?" Berry mumbled, "What does it even mean?" she plopped her sack by the side of the bench and sat down, huffing.
"It means either to make an unpleasant feeling less intense, or to satisfy one's desires," I replied. "So...what's up?"
"The ceiling," Berry replied with a crude grimace of her face, "That and then the sky, and the stars, and the moon," she said.
"Yes, not in that sense," I muttered, "What's on your mind?"
Berry looked straight at the fire, still crackling in the pit in front of us, and then exhaled loudly. "I can't be the Dragonborn just because I know how to read an old piece of stone."
"You're right. You aren't the Dragonborn just because of that," I said, "there is more to it, and it's even scarier than simply reading from an old stone, but you braved a tomb filled with forgotten monstrosities, isn't that a show of courage too?"
"Yes, but not like this," Berry said. "It was a question of...of choosing which way I'd die. I thought that between dying alone or with someone else, the latter seemed less grim."
"Death is always grim, but it's the cycle of life and death, and Arkay watches over it," I acquiesced. "And even now, you can pick whether you wish to die alone, out there in the wilds after a life of banditry, or become something more, and perhaps yes, still die, but in company." I smiled. "Who wouldn't want to die with someone like me by their side, I wonder?" I patted my chest.
"Pretty much everyone I knew," Berry said with a dry chuckle. "Let's say I am the Dragonborn," she began, "What am I supposed to do? Go bring peace to Skyrim?"
"Nah," I said, "You just have to stop Alduin, the World-Eater, from devouring the world and bringing the dragons back to life."
Berry stared at me as if expecting the punch-line to come. When it didn't, she stiffly stood up after grabbing her sack. "I'm leaving."
"It doesn't matter," I replied, not even bothering to stand. "You'll be back," I smiled. "May the Nine protect you, and should we never meet again, then know that the place of my death shall be in Whiterun, where a Dragon will first attack."
"It's not funny," Berry hissed out, "Not funny at all."
"Life seldom is," I said as I nodded, "that's why you've got to make it funny by yourself."
She took a couple of steps towards the door of the inn, "I'm not seeing the Gods stopping me from leaving," she said as she placed a hand on the inn's door. "See you around, crybaby."
"Sooner than you might think, Dragonborn," I replied, watching her leave and close the door behind her. I waited a few heartbeats, and then the sound of thunder echoed up in the air. I glanced out of the nearby window at the gathering clouds, and then at the sudden downpour which seemed to come down pretty strongly as the inn's door rattled open a second later. Berry gasped, her armor made of fur and leather utterly soaked.
I smiled.
"You could have braved the storm," I said gingerly.
Berry slumped down by my side, and then proceeded to shake the water out of her fur as if she were a wet dog, forcing me to wince and shudder at how cold the water in question was. "This is typical," Berry said in a hiss, "When it stops, I'll leave."
"You don't really want to leave, do you?" I whispered, "You're just scared of not being good enough."
"I don't care if I die fighting," Berry snapped angrily. "I am ready to kill, even now you're simply testing my patience and good heart," she growled. "Fear isn't something we Nord feel."
"If you say so," I hummed, "Then why are you running away from your destiny?"
"I am not running away. I am refusing, willfully, to become something I'm not. You become the Dragonborn in my place. With how you've been spouting your love for the Nine, I think they should just pick you and let me be," Berry said.
I glanced at the fire, "I'll be your shield for as long as you ask, my friend."
"We are not friends," Berry said with a half-choked hiss, averting her gaze, "Acquaintances, maybe, but friends? Don't oversell yourself, you crybaby pants-wetting Imperial." Silence fell for a few seconds, as a log in the fire pit cracked in half. "I'd best go back to sleep," she mumbled. "But this doesn't mean you managed to convince me to do anything. I'm just not going to leave while a storm is running amok over our heads."
I grinned and nodded, "See you tomorrow then."
"Yeah, see you tomorrow," she said as she stood up, headed for her room.
I turned to look at the window, where the rain incessantly hit against it.
"She's Tsundere, isn't she?"
The rain, most aptly, chose not to reply.
I had no choice but to return to my own private form of hell, but this time, surprisingly, Dragnor's rank and smell had disappeared.
Truly, the Gods worked in mysterious ways.
- Location
- Somewhere!
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Is it typical for reflections to be female, like boats and bridges and stuff? Maybe in Italian?
Mockingly-Tricky
Ketchup Enthusiast
- Location
- Happy Funtime Candyland
Shade....I hate to tell you this, but I think the gods are just messing with you.
- Location
- Italy
In Italian reflection translate this way: Riflessione.
Of course they are.
That's what gods do.
But just because they're messing with him doesn't mean there isn't a greater purpose to it.
Wobulator
Within 1 AU of you!
- Location
- Mars
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nah. Not the Aedra.
Sheogorath, sure, but... that's not something to count on.
Older-than-Time
[Eating My Muse]
- Location
- Somewhere in the Sol System
- Pronouns
- He/Him/ThatIdiot
Give her time to get used to the presence of his siblings. She'll toughen up and whack him good
Insomnius
Sleepless
Going to point out that Vivec attained CHIM separately from the Divinity he stole from the Heart of Lorkhan. He was perfectly willing to surrender his Divinity because he would have still been nigh Omnipotent.
Also, the books were written as a guide for the Nerevarine when they finally showed up, but a good portion of the stuff in them were true. They were also an excuse to brag about all his sexual escapades. Muatra, after all, isn't an actual spear.
Science
If you're reading this, omae wa mo shindeiru.
- Location
- Killeen, TX
La Reflexión in Spanish(feminine), La Réflexion in French(also feminine). I guess it is the same for Italian. Romance Languages For The Win!
Chapter Fourteen - Wilderness - 20th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Fourteen - Riverwood - 20th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
The carriage could easily hold all five of us, but since someone had to stay near the horse to steer it, and the general consensus was to not overwork the poor animal, most of us decided to walk next to it. We left behind Riverwood at a decent pace, Ralvas sitting placidly on the back of the carriage with a book open in his hands. He flipped through the pages of it, his mind lost. I took that as the cue to not disturb him, and instead turned towards Dragnor who was by the side of the large and solidly-built horse that had a dark brown fur, and pleasant hazel eyes.
"So, what are Elder Sibling rights?" I asked.
"It's the right to decide who gets to boss the younger siblings around," Rae answered in Dragnor's place. "Willow is the eldest sister, but when she isn't there she normally lets Ralvas, Hirume, Dragnor or me decide on what's best for the rest." She smiled. "And the younger siblings have to do everything the older sibling says, because otherwise, they'll get their punishment," she sing-sang the last part, twiddling her fingers, "Ocheeva, Sharrum, Tsavi, Mansel and you are the youngest."
"Ten siblings?" Berry asked, having kept count, her eyes wide. "That's one big family."
"Yes it is," Rae said with a bright smile. "And we stick together, no matter what."
"We never expanded on the argument," I said suddenly, "But why exactly are we all in Skyrim? Didn't we have a life in Cyrodiil?"
At my query, Dragnor thumped his chest with his free hand, "Ah, my idea!" he grinned, "I wished to discover my roots as a Nord, and perhaps find a local witch to discover my ancestry. Even if my ancestors were poultry thieves, it would still be better than not knowing."
"That is part of it," Rae acquiesced. "Willow had her reasons for coming here too, which I'm not really at liberty to say. I wouldn't want your meeting with her to be...tinted by preconceptions, which are..."
"Willow kills people for a living," Ralvas said from the back of the carriage. "She's a mercenary."
"Ralvas!" Rae hotly said. "You're one too!" she quickly turned towards me, "Think of it as a family business. Willow had to make a lot of tough choices to keep our family together. It might not be the easiest or nicest of jobs, but it paid for a roof on our heads and the clothes on our backs."
I furrowed my brows, "All right?" I hazarded. "I'm not really seeing a problem in that."
"Good," Rae said with a heartfelt sigh, "That's good to know."
"That's because he's unable to connect the dots, not having a complete overview of the situation," Ralvas quipped dryly, having in the meantime closed his book. "I think it is for the best to prepare him to the hardships to come by being brutally honest, rather than wait for him to find out the truth by himself and then have him sulk for months. You do recall what happened with that priestess of Dibella, don't you?"
I inwardly felt the beginning of yet another tale from Umbra's background coming right up, and I dreaded it. I had no idea why, but I still dreaded it.
"Ralvas, not another word!" Rae snapped curtly.
"Uh, was that the pretty lady of grain-blond hair and suave strawberry lips that captivated brother's heart so much he ended up doing those very gaudy and silly things in the marketplace?" Sharrum remarked, my cheeks heating even without me remembering just what I did.
"Yes, that one. And then it turned out she taught eroticism to everyone who asked. His poor broken heart couldn't take it, and he spent months locked in his room swearing revenge on love and everything nice. You do remember we had to break down his door in order to get him to eat after the first four days had gone by, right?" Ralvas spoke, "And how he lamented his fate, and how we literally had to slap the melodrama out of him, and..."
"Woah," Berry said even as I hid my face with my hands. Seriously, this Umbra guy seemed like the type of person who needed to calm himself a great deal. "That's...interesting," she smirked. "Any other embarrassing moments from his childhood?" as she asked that with a devious smile, Ralvas' eyes gleamed.
"There was that time he wanted to keep a giant skeever as a pet and we had to settle for letting him keep a slaughterfish in a tank. He called it mister Bubbles and wished to take baths with him. It ended up poorly for the fish when Willow finally conceded and allowed it," Ralvas smiled, "The fish didn't last two seconds after biting on to poor Umbra's butt, and the screams were..."
"Enough," I groaned, "Just...enough," I shook my head. "I don't remember any of it, but I am already dreading remembering it to begin with! Thank the Nine for this amnesia of mine!"
"A true man is made up of both good and bad events, Umbra," Ralvas spoke firmly. "It is through hardships, pain and suffering that we may achieve our true great selves. Only the weak seek out nothing but bliss." He snorted.
"Embarrassing memories are not pain! They're just...embarrassing!" I shot back.
"Embarrassment is a form of weakness, so cull it," Ralvas continued. "Shatter it. Break it. Burn it away. Weakness exists only as long as you allow it to exist."
"You're the big brother I turn to whenever I want to ruin a party, right?" I asked, only for Ralvas' eyes to gleam. "I actually did turn to you to ruin a party, didn't I?"
"We were lucky no one in Bravil saw us, but to this day, I think that was the best moment of our lives. They had to rebuild more than a quarter of the city, but it was primarily their fault for building most of it out of wood," Ralvas said, the smile on his lips a clear sign that he was fondly remembering a beautiful moment of the past.
"Don't tell him that stuff," Rae said angrily, huffing, "Tell him about the good times. The ones that you can be proud of, like when you taught him how to read and write! Or when for his seventh birthday you gave him his own personal staff to conjure flowers!"
"It was supposed to be lightning," Ralvas said, "But Willow found out before I could get the right enchantment in," he lowered his head. "The wasted potential..."
I looked sadly at Ralvas. "A staff that conjure lightning sounds cool, big brother," I said, "Maybe you can make me another?"
"No!" Rae said hastily, "No lightning for you!" she quickly lifted her index finger, pointing it in Ralvas' direction. "You two are prohibited from using Destruction magic without Willow's approval! You know that!"
"Well," I said, "Not like I can. I don't remember how," I continued.
"That would explain why he hasn't been setting stuff on fire as much as he did before," Dragnor said from the side, "I was starting to wonder why though."
"Wait, you're telling me that other than having a loud mouth and being utterly unable to fight using a shield, he can use magic too?" Berry asked, only for Sharrum to laugh loudly.
"Brother is a jack of all trades, and a master of none," the orsimer smiled, "Though it pains my breast to admit that never will his boot touch the blood-soaked soil of the arena, and never has his blade been thrust into the heart of a human foe, he has more often than not proclaimed his desire to learn of all crafts and ways. Though his skill is mainly his tongue, and many a wench claim it is a true work of..."
"Sharrum!" Rae's roar was accompanied with a thunderclap noise, which made the orsimer's smile widen to the point where his tusks were clearly visible.
"Sister dear, brother's silver tongue is undoubtedly the best in making compliments, whatever else were you thinking?" the orc asked innocently enough, only for Rae's eyes to narrow.
"I do remember the statue and the hammer thing, Sharrum," Rae said threateningly. "You do not want me to bring it up."
Sharrum's green skin turned slightly pale, "Come on now, big sister, sweet sister, merciful sister, I was merely jesting. There is no need to be so pettily vindictive."
Rae's eyebrows rose delicately, in the same way a noblewoman would if told that a servant was about to be executed, and not caring the slightest about it. She then smiled, a warm smile of a shark drinking in the blood of the sea, and finally nodded. Sharrum exhaled, the tension leaving his frame.
The road to Whiterun was a long and snaking thing that wasn't hard to follow, but longer than what the game had shown. Apparently, it would take at least a day and half to reach the city, but the entire trek would be done for the most part beneath the canopy of trees, trudging alongside a stream filled with water and jumping salmons, witnessing the beauty of nature in the form of a pack of feral wolves snarling at us from the side of the road and the fury of a well placed tongue of fire that scorched the face of the pack leader, making the rest scramble away.
"The wildlife's quite desperate around these parts," Ralvas said. "We killed half a dozen of wolves just getting to Whiterun, and there are more already trying to hound us."
"Feral beasts cannot make our hearts waver, for their fangs are bared just like their emotions. Truly, the greatest wavering of hearts may come only from the veiling of one's desires, ah, such hardship that encounters he who seeks to fight his fellow, for intelligence begets deceit, and deceit is the harshest of foes to defy," Sharrum spoke, before turning towards me. "Was that great or what, Umbra?"
"I...I think so," I replied. "Waver our hearts do not, for feral the foe he may be, but still pure of heart and candid in battle. Troublesome is the foe of cunning and wits, for in lies and deceits he proves his strength."
"Well, his brain is still there. His tongue works well too?" Ralvas asked next.
"We avoided the chopping block because of him," Dragnor said. "Didn't know he was friends with a member of the Penitus Oculatus though. Maybe he met him at a bar with Mansel?"
"Oh? So his amnesia is localized? Interesting," Ralvas said, rubbing his beard. "With time, it should pass. He'll grow stronger from it," he added. "Also, there is the matter of knowledge you should not possess, and yet do. I did not know you for a connoisseur in ancient Nordic myths and legends, and this praying to the Nine...it's new. While your silly love for the glories of the Empire of the past aren't, your devotion...was non-existent. No, to be more precise, rather than spouting your love, you enjoyed hating on them."
I raised both eyebrows, "I did?"
Rae uncomfortably looked away, "I think that it's a bit of a pleasant change that he isn't offending the gods any longer."
"Nonsense," Ralvas said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Without the Gods cursing him with misfortune and bad luck, without his hatred of the divine to strengthen his resolve and without the pain of knowing he was alone against the world, then how can we expect him to grow back into the brother we know?"
"I could hit him again on the head," Sharrum said. "Unless...do you still enjoy peeking and groping half-naked women in the sauna?" Sharrum asked quite politely, looking at me as if expecting the answer to be yes, which only made me feel further shame for the background of this Umbra guy.
"Like...any other male might?" I hazarded the most neutral reply I could, only to be on the receiving end of Berry's hands shoving me to the side.
"You're also a pervert!" Berry snapped, "Is there any good, redeeming quality in your past or are you just a bundle of negative traits?"
"He once tried, and failed, to beat up a group of fighters who were waiting for me outside the arena because I had eclipsed them," Dragnor said, "Also there was that time he took three blades in the guts trying to protect Ocheeva from a bunch of bastards, or that time when he managed to sweet-talk an old coot into taking Rae as an apprentice even though she stank of sewer. There's one thing I've learned as his older brother which to this day makes me proud of him. If he latches on, he won't let go until he dies, which is quite problematic because if he gets hurt, then Willow hurts us, and I don't want Willow to hurt me."
Rae grinned, "He's also a good hairdresser."
I blinked at that last part. "I am?"
"And a great singer," Sharrum said.
"No!" Ralvas, Rae and Dragnor all roared that at the same time. The orsimer groaned, hanging his head low while I simply winced from the level of denial that I was receiving. I couldn't be that bad now, could I?
"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart..." my next words were taken away by a blast of lightning which exploded a tree trunk nearby, sending wooden shrapnel everywhere as the lightning sizzled still in Rae's hands, the Breton's eyes twitching.
"No. Singing." Her words were law, I decided.
Still, it was truly unfortunate.
Everyone was a critic no matter the world I ended up in.
The carriage could easily hold all five of us, but since someone had to stay near the horse to steer it, and the general consensus was to not overwork the poor animal, most of us decided to walk next to it. We left behind Riverwood at a decent pace, Ralvas sitting placidly on the back of the carriage with a book open in his hands. He flipped through the pages of it, his mind lost. I took that as the cue to not disturb him, and instead turned towards Dragnor who was by the side of the large and solidly-built horse that had a dark brown fur, and pleasant hazel eyes.
"So, what are Elder Sibling rights?" I asked.
"It's the right to decide who gets to boss the younger siblings around," Rae answered in Dragnor's place. "Willow is the eldest sister, but when she isn't there she normally lets Ralvas, Hirume, Dragnor or me decide on what's best for the rest." She smiled. "And the younger siblings have to do everything the older sibling says, because otherwise, they'll get their punishment," she sing-sang the last part, twiddling her fingers, "Ocheeva, Sharrum, Tsavi, Mansel and you are the youngest."
"Ten siblings?" Berry asked, having kept count, her eyes wide. "That's one big family."
"Yes it is," Rae said with a bright smile. "And we stick together, no matter what."
"We never expanded on the argument," I said suddenly, "But why exactly are we all in Skyrim? Didn't we have a life in Cyrodiil?"
At my query, Dragnor thumped his chest with his free hand, "Ah, my idea!" he grinned, "I wished to discover my roots as a Nord, and perhaps find a local witch to discover my ancestry. Even if my ancestors were poultry thieves, it would still be better than not knowing."
"That is part of it," Rae acquiesced. "Willow had her reasons for coming here too, which I'm not really at liberty to say. I wouldn't want your meeting with her to be...tinted by preconceptions, which are..."
"Willow kills people for a living," Ralvas said from the back of the carriage. "She's a mercenary."
"Ralvas!" Rae hotly said. "You're one too!" she quickly turned towards me, "Think of it as a family business. Willow had to make a lot of tough choices to keep our family together. It might not be the easiest or nicest of jobs, but it paid for a roof on our heads and the clothes on our backs."
I furrowed my brows, "All right?" I hazarded. "I'm not really seeing a problem in that."
"Good," Rae said with a heartfelt sigh, "That's good to know."
"That's because he's unable to connect the dots, not having a complete overview of the situation," Ralvas quipped dryly, having in the meantime closed his book. "I think it is for the best to prepare him to the hardships to come by being brutally honest, rather than wait for him to find out the truth by himself and then have him sulk for months. You do recall what happened with that priestess of Dibella, don't you?"
I inwardly felt the beginning of yet another tale from Umbra's background coming right up, and I dreaded it. I had no idea why, but I still dreaded it.
"Ralvas, not another word!" Rae snapped curtly.
"Uh, was that the pretty lady of grain-blond hair and suave strawberry lips that captivated brother's heart so much he ended up doing those very gaudy and silly things in the marketplace?" Sharrum remarked, my cheeks heating even without me remembering just what I did.
"Yes, that one. And then it turned out she taught eroticism to everyone who asked. His poor broken heart couldn't take it, and he spent months locked in his room swearing revenge on love and everything nice. You do remember we had to break down his door in order to get him to eat after the first four days had gone by, right?" Ralvas spoke, "And how he lamented his fate, and how we literally had to slap the melodrama out of him, and..."
"Woah," Berry said even as I hid my face with my hands. Seriously, this Umbra guy seemed like the type of person who needed to calm himself a great deal. "That's...interesting," she smirked. "Any other embarrassing moments from his childhood?" as she asked that with a devious smile, Ralvas' eyes gleamed.
"There was that time he wanted to keep a giant skeever as a pet and we had to settle for letting him keep a slaughterfish in a tank. He called it mister Bubbles and wished to take baths with him. It ended up poorly for the fish when Willow finally conceded and allowed it," Ralvas smiled, "The fish didn't last two seconds after biting on to poor Umbra's butt, and the screams were..."
"Enough," I groaned, "Just...enough," I shook my head. "I don't remember any of it, but I am already dreading remembering it to begin with! Thank the Nine for this amnesia of mine!"
"A true man is made up of both good and bad events, Umbra," Ralvas spoke firmly. "It is through hardships, pain and suffering that we may achieve our true great selves. Only the weak seek out nothing but bliss." He snorted.
"Embarrassing memories are not pain! They're just...embarrassing!" I shot back.
"Embarrassment is a form of weakness, so cull it," Ralvas continued. "Shatter it. Break it. Burn it away. Weakness exists only as long as you allow it to exist."
"You're the big brother I turn to whenever I want to ruin a party, right?" I asked, only for Ralvas' eyes to gleam. "I actually did turn to you to ruin a party, didn't I?"
"We were lucky no one in Bravil saw us, but to this day, I think that was the best moment of our lives. They had to rebuild more than a quarter of the city, but it was primarily their fault for building most of it out of wood," Ralvas said, the smile on his lips a clear sign that he was fondly remembering a beautiful moment of the past.
"Don't tell him that stuff," Rae said angrily, huffing, "Tell him about the good times. The ones that you can be proud of, like when you taught him how to read and write! Or when for his seventh birthday you gave him his own personal staff to conjure flowers!"
"It was supposed to be lightning," Ralvas said, "But Willow found out before I could get the right enchantment in," he lowered his head. "The wasted potential..."
I looked sadly at Ralvas. "A staff that conjure lightning sounds cool, big brother," I said, "Maybe you can make me another?"
"No!" Rae said hastily, "No lightning for you!" she quickly lifted her index finger, pointing it in Ralvas' direction. "You two are prohibited from using Destruction magic without Willow's approval! You know that!"
"Well," I said, "Not like I can. I don't remember how," I continued.
"That would explain why he hasn't been setting stuff on fire as much as he did before," Dragnor said from the side, "I was starting to wonder why though."
"Wait, you're telling me that other than having a loud mouth and being utterly unable to fight using a shield, he can use magic too?" Berry asked, only for Sharrum to laugh loudly.
"Brother is a jack of all trades, and a master of none," the orsimer smiled, "Though it pains my breast to admit that never will his boot touch the blood-soaked soil of the arena, and never has his blade been thrust into the heart of a human foe, he has more often than not proclaimed his desire to learn of all crafts and ways. Though his skill is mainly his tongue, and many a wench claim it is a true work of..."
"Sharrum!" Rae's roar was accompanied with a thunderclap noise, which made the orsimer's smile widen to the point where his tusks were clearly visible.
"Sister dear, brother's silver tongue is undoubtedly the best in making compliments, whatever else were you thinking?" the orc asked innocently enough, only for Rae's eyes to narrow.
"I do remember the statue and the hammer thing, Sharrum," Rae said threateningly. "You do not want me to bring it up."
Sharrum's green skin turned slightly pale, "Come on now, big sister, sweet sister, merciful sister, I was merely jesting. There is no need to be so pettily vindictive."
Rae's eyebrows rose delicately, in the same way a noblewoman would if told that a servant was about to be executed, and not caring the slightest about it. She then smiled, a warm smile of a shark drinking in the blood of the sea, and finally nodded. Sharrum exhaled, the tension leaving his frame.
The road to Whiterun was a long and snaking thing that wasn't hard to follow, but longer than what the game had shown. Apparently, it would take at least a day and half to reach the city, but the entire trek would be done for the most part beneath the canopy of trees, trudging alongside a stream filled with water and jumping salmons, witnessing the beauty of nature in the form of a pack of feral wolves snarling at us from the side of the road and the fury of a well placed tongue of fire that scorched the face of the pack leader, making the rest scramble away.
"The wildlife's quite desperate around these parts," Ralvas said. "We killed half a dozen of wolves just getting to Whiterun, and there are more already trying to hound us."
"Feral beasts cannot make our hearts waver, for their fangs are bared just like their emotions. Truly, the greatest wavering of hearts may come only from the veiling of one's desires, ah, such hardship that encounters he who seeks to fight his fellow, for intelligence begets deceit, and deceit is the harshest of foes to defy," Sharrum spoke, before turning towards me. "Was that great or what, Umbra?"
"I...I think so," I replied. "Waver our hearts do not, for feral the foe he may be, but still pure of heart and candid in battle. Troublesome is the foe of cunning and wits, for in lies and deceits he proves his strength."
"Well, his brain is still there. His tongue works well too?" Ralvas asked next.
"We avoided the chopping block because of him," Dragnor said. "Didn't know he was friends with a member of the Penitus Oculatus though. Maybe he met him at a bar with Mansel?"
"Oh? So his amnesia is localized? Interesting," Ralvas said, rubbing his beard. "With time, it should pass. He'll grow stronger from it," he added. "Also, there is the matter of knowledge you should not possess, and yet do. I did not know you for a connoisseur in ancient Nordic myths and legends, and this praying to the Nine...it's new. While your silly love for the glories of the Empire of the past aren't, your devotion...was non-existent. No, to be more precise, rather than spouting your love, you enjoyed hating on them."
I raised both eyebrows, "I did?"
Rae uncomfortably looked away, "I think that it's a bit of a pleasant change that he isn't offending the gods any longer."
"Nonsense," Ralvas said, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Without the Gods cursing him with misfortune and bad luck, without his hatred of the divine to strengthen his resolve and without the pain of knowing he was alone against the world, then how can we expect him to grow back into the brother we know?"
"I could hit him again on the head," Sharrum said. "Unless...do you still enjoy peeking and groping half-naked women in the sauna?" Sharrum asked quite politely, looking at me as if expecting the answer to be yes, which only made me feel further shame for the background of this Umbra guy.
"Like...any other male might?" I hazarded the most neutral reply I could, only to be on the receiving end of Berry's hands shoving me to the side.
"You're also a pervert!" Berry snapped, "Is there any good, redeeming quality in your past or are you just a bundle of negative traits?"
"He once tried, and failed, to beat up a group of fighters who were waiting for me outside the arena because I had eclipsed them," Dragnor said, "Also there was that time he took three blades in the guts trying to protect Ocheeva from a bunch of bastards, or that time when he managed to sweet-talk an old coot into taking Rae as an apprentice even though she stank of sewer. There's one thing I've learned as his older brother which to this day makes me proud of him. If he latches on, he won't let go until he dies, which is quite problematic because if he gets hurt, then Willow hurts us, and I don't want Willow to hurt me."
Rae grinned, "He's also a good hairdresser."
I blinked at that last part. "I am?"
"And a great singer," Sharrum said.
"No!" Ralvas, Rae and Dragnor all roared that at the same time. The orsimer groaned, hanging his head low while I simply winced from the level of denial that I was receiving. I couldn't be that bad now, could I?
"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart..." my next words were taken away by a blast of lightning which exploded a tree trunk nearby, sending wooden shrapnel everywhere as the lightning sizzled still in Rae's hands, the Breton's eyes twitching.
"No. Singing." Her words were law, I decided.
Still, it was truly unfortunate.
Everyone was a critic no matter the world I ended up in.
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Both Aedra and Daedra will curse you with living in interesting times (at least!); the key difference is whether the journey/end goal is benevolent or malevolent. Are you on a quest fraught with danger, or is your life just in a spiral of cruel circumstance? in both cases you're just playing into some beings greater game of 4 dimensional chess when they're involved. In the case of the Dragonborn in this stories canon at this point the gods are forcibly setting her on a path she doesn't want to be on and actively sabotaging attempts to get off The Aedra's Wild Ride™.
You can't seriously say a freak storm out of nowhere to rain on travel plans to get off The Path set by the gods isn't messing with someone.