My Older Siblings Cannot be the Dragonborn (Skyrim SI)
- Thread starter shadenight123
- Start date
Evillevi
A Pikachu for everything - Shadow Pikachu,2015
So the good. Well written as always and a lot better a fight scene than some of your last works.
However I think that this really suffered from the lack of a proper lead up much the same way as the Shade Prophecy Future Berry Rain post did. Without a proper followup I don't have the context to really care about the characters. Yes there's probably information that I missed that would have made so much sense, but if the writing doesn't naturally lead me to it and makes it memorable for me (think the love potion in Fred and Georges shop in book 5 or 6(?)) then there's still something to improve on
However I think that this really suffered from the lack of a proper lead up much the same way as the Shade Prophecy Future Berry Rain post did. Without a proper followup I don't have the context to really care about the characters. Yes there's probably information that I missed that would have made so much sense, but if the writing doesn't naturally lead me to it and makes it memorable for me (think the love potion in Fred and Georges shop in book 5 or 6(?)) then there's still something to improve on
HarakoniWarhawk
Striking from the Skies
- Location
- Holy Terra
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Balgruuf the Greater. Motherfuckin' Jarl of Whiterun bitches! Why did Ulfric wait until he had the Last Dragonborn on his side before attacking Whiterun? Because he knew he'd need the Dragonborn to stand a chance!
I was thinking Umbra was in rare form, that form being the form of a fucking idiot.
Last edited:
The Bards college is going to love Shade.
Usually epic lines and insults are edited in after the matter but Shade has given them solid gold to work with.
@Woooinion
He is being a bit of a god botherer, but on the otherhand he is now in a world where you can objectively poke gods(not recommended).
That, the mild freakout/sanity break and the "totally not gods" band of merchants stopping by and if you throw in obscure stuff like mantleing things are kinda freaky.
He knows the gods are almost certainly watching.
Though he is a bit quick to assume Divine intervention.
Usually epic lines and insults are edited in after the matter but Shade has given them solid gold to work with.
@Woooinion
He is being a bit of a god botherer, but on the otherhand he is now in a world where you can objectively poke gods(not recommended).
That, the mild freakout/sanity break and the "totally not gods" band of merchants stopping by and if you throw in obscure stuff like mantleing things are kinda freaky.
He knows the gods are almost certainly watching.
Though he is a bit quick to assume Divine intervention.
I just realized that Willow has massed Archery and Stealth skills. With a brother to provide enchantment....
Willow has broken the game and could solo if not for the dann prophecy.
Willow has broken the game and could solo if not for the dann prophecy.
Ah, Balgruf, the only reason why i choose the Imperial Side in the Civil War Quest line, in my very First playthrough.
- Location
- Little Rock, AR
Bandit start mod?
And no one saw berry eat dragon soul.
While every saw her get slapped and the pike drove the dragon. Much less hype to go until the grey beards Holla or berry breaks a wall.
Nothing said the Dovahkiin needed to be at Helgen. The prophecy stated that when brother turns against brother, then Alduin would be free. Or somesuch.
- Location
- United states
so its all dragnor's fault cuz he hit us to fix our amnesia thus brother turned against brother
Last edited:
- Location
- Northish
Why on earth is Umbra assuming the gods are in any way helping him out?
I side with the Empire because unlike Ulfric, I'm not going to betray Talos and destroy everything Talos worked for.
That's right, siding with Ulfric Stormcloak is siding against Talos.
He wants to be more annoying than Heimskr?
- Location
- United states
because uncle sheogoreth loves helping people and brutally ripping out their insides to jump rope with, or turn them into cheese, or send on quests, or give them the wabajack, or teach them how to piss off the other deadra, or throw the best parties......or anything his mad mind can think of really.
Last edited:
- Location
- Little Rock, AR
Narrative conventions wry conincidences, the ghost incident. All the fuckery the daedra get up in game. The way the shrines work.
Coming this fucking close to murdering the Dragonborn who was a bandit like any other. And could have been any other random soldier he met.
One is chance, twice is conincidence, thrice is enemy action.
yes, ENEMY ACTION so why the fuck is he praising them?
- Location
- Little Rock, AR
Because the side saying this is alduin.
These coincidences may have been wrecking his body but they have also conviently had him gain experience and find the dragon born amd avoid dying and inspire her to her potential.
It hurts now but imagine if he'd stayed put and she ran into sharrum and got bisected. They would have been fucked and no matter where he went or what he did he Glas going to die in pain as the world ends.
Unless they mastered cpnjuration to tell point of skipping reality.
Because, in a way, they already did help keep him alive.
Remember this scene?
That new helmet Umbra bought? Kinda saved his life several times now.
- Location
- florida
heh nice
Madou Sutegobana
Autocorrupt has been disabled.
- Location
- Twin Realms Mandala
FTFY.
If your gonna meme, make sure it's right.
I thought he was making a reference to Shade Stay/Write's EMIYA - the yandere sister.
Chapter Nineteen - Whiterun - 21th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
- Location
- https://discord.gg/z9tBvbh
Chapter Nineteen - Whiterun - 21th of Last Seed 4E 201 - Umbra
Whiterun was partying wildly. People were laughing and dancing, music and bards were at every corner, loud songs and cheerful gestures had replaced the moody darkness and grief of the afternoon, when the dead had been buried, and the last rites of their creed proclaimed. Talos' name had been invoked too, and no one had said anything, for that was the way Whiterun worked, and if the ears go momentarily deaf, then so be it.
Drums rumbled in the night accompanied by flutes and strings played by harps. Every barrel of mead that could be scrapped was, and every bit of meat that could be roasted, Skeevers included, was too. Today was the day man had reenacted its conquest over the dragons, and had emerged victorious.
Nothing like a common foe to convince both Gray-Mane and Battle-Born to cheer and drink together.
But amidst the crowd, a lonely spot of darkness and silence remained. It was the spot where cloaked dark purple figures stood with sharp jawlines and golden skin. The Thalmor, normally seen only in random encounters, where instead a fixed presence in the town itself.
Hirume was also one of them, her eyes and expression perhaps softer than those of her companions, but she was still there, among them.
Was it necessity? Was it obligation? Was there a reason for her to be among the Nazi-Elves? She didn't look the type to hate other races due to their differences, and yet...yet there she was, standing there, watching, quietly judging, doing nothing but sipping a cup of what I supposed was wine while her comrades muttered this or that about the people in front of them and their drunken revelry.
"Drink with me, man!" a robed figure bellowed as he clasped a hand against my back, making me wince as I turned to look at him. He sat down by my side on the bench that had been hastily rebuilt by the Gildergreen, and which was one of the many new pieces of furniture that now adorned the central square, the rest being long tables where people were cheering and drinking and eating. "Let us celebrate!" he added.
I quietly lifted my left arm, showing the shackle that apparently tied me to the bench's armrest itself.
"My condolences," the man spoke as he gave a small nod. "What did you do? Left the precious carpets of your wife's great-grandmother to die in the fire because they were so ugly you'd been waiting on the occasion?"
"I actually went and convinced the dragon to land," I replied quite smoothly, nodding to myself as I said that. "Also, don't try to break the shackle. Somewhere in the crowd there is a Bosmer with a bow and an arrow, and although I can't see her, she can see me. The arrows will always strike your ass."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Always?"
"Always," I replied with a sour nod. More than a few valiant heroes had been by such an arrow punctured, but had taken it in stride as the arrow had been imbued with some sort of venom that made them forget they had been hit to begin with. Honestly, it was one thing to be stealthy in the game, but to be that stealthy in this reality? There had to be some sort of poison that rendered one's mind sort of disconnected on the latest events. It had to be what Willow was using, wherever she was hiding in the crowd.
"A pity!" the man exclaimed loudly, "You look like the type of man that given a chance would do great things at a party!"
"Oh, you have no idea," I smiled back, "But I can't even leave my bench, so I'm glad for the merry company at least."
"Such sweet words!" a hand passed around my shoulder, the figure drawing near. In that instant, an arrow pierced the wood of the bench between us. The man stumbled slightly backwards, "Why, and here I thought I was being subtle about it," he muttered as he pulled a flask in his hand back into his pocket, "Everyone should enjoy a drink, even those in chains!"
"It doesn't work that way, or it wouldn't be a punishment," I replied with an awkward chuckle. "But it's all right, the Gods will see to it that I am appropriately rewarded in one way or another before the night's end," I grinned.
The robed man furrowed his brows, and then smirked. "Ah, I see! I see, well then, most pious man of them all, I bid you a good festivity and a hearty goodbye!" he stood back up and left, jumping into a crowd of men to dance and sing together and raucously enjoy the merriment. He disappeared from my sight minutes later, having joined another group and then one more yet again.
I exhaled loudly and wiped away the sweat from my brow. A few seconds later, and Tsavi sat down by my side, a plate with a piece of roasted lamb in her hands. It was the hardest-looking piece of roast with the least amount of condiment and spices. "Tsavi tried to keep the potatoes from rolling on the ground," the Khajiiti said while flapping her ears right and left, "But Tsavi failed when big sister willow knocked them out with her arrows."
I blinked and grimaced, "Isn't that terribly risky? She could have hit you."
"The arrows were without the tip," Tsavi said helpfully. "She would never hurt Tsavi, or any of her siblings." The giant humanoid cat then handed the plate over and fidgeted, "Does youngest brother remember anything about Tsavi yet?" she asked while preening up, only for the small negative shaking of my head making her slump her ears flat against her head once more in melancholy. "It is all right," Tsavi said, "Tsavi remembers for both of us then."
"I'd like to know more about my relationships with everyone else," I said.
"Tsavi can only speak for Tsavi, because youngest brother is a po...polygon," Tsavi said quite convinced of the word.
"Polygon?" I asked.
"One nod for the sad, one grimace for the wrong, one curt gesture for the rude, one smile for the happy," Tsavi said, her tail twitching right and left. "A person is a polygon when they act with difference to different things," she nodded, quite proud of herself.
I gave a bite to the roasted piece of meat, and then hummed. "Polyhedric, the word is polyhedric, and it means with many sides."
"What did Tsavi say?" she huffed, "have you read any new books?" she asked next.
"No, not really," I replied, shaking my head. "There are more important things to do right now, so reading books is kind-of...not important." Also, I unashamedly admitted that I didn't read the books in Skyrim to begin with. Well, I'd push the button just in case they were skill books, but I'd never read them. A Thief of Virtue was kind-of an exception, but mainly because it was a funny story and so I remembered it.
"Tsavi doesn't understand that," the Khajiit said, a certain smudge of sadness in her voice. "We always read books even when we were busy."
"We did?" I asked.
Tsavi nodded, "But we couldn't read every night," she continued. "Tsavi remembers when Umbra and Mansel were small, and they would curl up near my fur to keep warm. They would play with Tsavi's tail, and Tsavi would read stories," she preened up considerably at that, as if taking pride in it. "Umbra and Mansel both were my own little cubs to keep warm at night, but Mansel became all...prissy when he grew up." She sadly shook her head.
Around us, the festivities kept going.
"I see," I said. "So...Mansel's the youngest one barring me?"
"He is," Tsavi said. "He hasn't found what he wants to do in his life yet, but Tsavi is sure he'll do great things. It will be sad when he leaves and settles...but big sister Hirume will be the first, so Tsavi is already sad about that."
"Hirume...is settling?" I asked, glancing towards the Thalmor corner, where the woman in question was doing her best to appear as steel-eyed as possible and failing miserably at that.
"Yes," Tsavi said, "Not just work, but also life," the Khajiiti continued. "She will bear a cub of her own too," here the giant humanoid cat smiled, "And she has come to be with her mate."
"Oh," I said. "Uh," I blinked. "Who's the guy?"
"Tsavi doesn't remember the name, because it's a silly Altmer name," Tsavi said while shrugging lightly, "Eldest sister Willow doesn't know either, because otherwise she would have hunted him down and big sister Hirume did not wish for that."
I was about to say something when a bulky figure stopped right in front of me, the green-skin of Sharrum clearly visible even as he held two pretty young women, a Redguard and a Nord, in his arms. "And this here is my little brother! Come on, enough being punished by our eldest sister," he laughed vicariously as he let go of the Nord to wrestle the shackles free, an arrow hitting and shattering against his reinforced armored ass.
...
I stared at my best older brother.
"Sharrum," I said in awe, "You reinforced your armor's butt-cheeks."
The orc winked, "My perversion will never be denied!" he laughed again as he recovered the Nord woman, "Now go, mingle with the crowd while I hold back our eldest sister! I valiantly sacrifice myself for you tonight, little brother!" and with that said, he spun with both girls in his arms ready to face the full brunt of an invisible and deadly predator that was without a doubt nearing among the crowd.
I took his wise counsel and did just that, Tsavi following me as we reached for the closest keg of mead and empty mugs. The first sip of mead was delicious, and the second even more.
"Wait a moment," a voice spoke by my right, "You're the guy who insulted the dragon down!" a bearded man exclaimed, a hand thumping against my shoulder as I found myself thrust into a crowd of cheering men and women. "Chug with us, brave man!" another yelled, and as I was flung around like some kind of doll, I ended up losing sight of Tsavi. I stopped mid-pushes, trying to recover my ground and seek out my Khajiiti sister, only for other hands to grab hold of me.
"I was there by the tree when this man called the dragon down!" a cheerful voice, my hand ended up raised up high as I found myself spinning in the middle of a joyful chorus. Perhaps I preferred the bench, admittedly. "He spoke to it, and down he came! Never did I see such courage in someone who wasn't a Nord!"
I was trying to hide from my eldest sister, not join the crowd in their revelry and get caught once more. The keyword was stealth and silence, not getting brought into the spotlight. "And down he came, the wretched worm, but a brave imperial to his honor sworn, defied the beast's roar with his words, and struck the dragon down with raised sword!" a Bard began to sing, the lines clearly improvised.
"The one with the sword was another, not me," I tried to say, only for cheers and noise to drown my words out. I still kept on trying to free myself from the clutch of the Nord that was holding my wrist, and failing miserably at that. "I just talked to get the dragon down."
"The power of the Voice then!?" someone yelled, "Can he use the thu'um too!?"
"No, no! Most definitely not!" I replied, "I just yelled loud enough insults on the dragon's mother. Those always work, you know the kind!"
A round of laughter soon followed, but a new mug was thrust in my hands by the Nord that still clung on to my wrist. "Uhm...could you let go of my wrist now?" I asked, only for the man to laugh and pull me along into yet another group of festive Nords. "Oi, I said—"
"This is the guy with the greatest guts I ever saw!" he yelled, pushing me in front of him, "Yelled at the dragon to get down and fight like a man, and the dragon obliged him!"
"Oh really? Now wasn't that brave? Raise your mug with us, man!" an old wrinkled Nord did so, and I returned the gesture automatically. More men and women came and went, but no matter how hard I tried, I could no longer leave the group as more people would walk behind me, even as the Nord let go of my wrist.
By the time my mug was empty, another filled itself.
When in the end the party began to die down and the people started leaving, I realized I hadn't seen the rest of my siblings at all.
Ocheeva was the first I found. Mostly, she was the only Argonian still milling around the party, her expression wary even as she tried some of the local delicacies. Cheese and fish, for example, was one such thing that I hadn't dared try. Cheese and fish put on a platter together with roasted lamb and potatoes was apparently the best way to destroy all flavors, but who was I to judge when my own eating habits at buffets amounted to pretty much the same thing?
"Big sister?" I asked as I awkwardly neared her, her crocodile-like snout breaking into a wry grin as I called her. "Where are the others?"
"Dragnor lies drunk together with the companions," she gestured with her tail to where a table held the most valiant of people being also the most drunk, and some of them were soundly asleep. "Sharrum has left for his debaucheries. I last saw Mansel speak to some other Redguards." She smiled. "Eldest sister Willow has been hunting you throughout the night, but your abilities to elude her have returned at the very least, youngest egg-brother."
"What about Tsavi and Ralvas?" I asked, furrowing my brows as I recalled their names, and grabbed a platter myself of whatever was left. It wasn't much, unsurprisingly, but there was still something, which was a surprise by itself.
"Ralvas never enjoyed parties in which there was not a challenge to be had, and Tsavi is not a party-Khajiit. She prefers silence and a book," Ocheeva shook her scaly head, and then flicked her eyelids open and close once. "You have forgotten everything, Umbra. I am worried. Do you remember nothing at all of Cyrodiil? Of the time in the sewers? Of the cold days, or the hot days? The sad moments, and the happy ones?"
I grimaced, and shook my head. "No, nothing. But if it was a blow to the head, I'm sure it will pass one day, won't it?"
"I hope so. Mansel is quite sour about the lack of his best rival," Ocheeva smiled, "And I do miss my warm big-sister-entitled hugs," she continued nonchalantly. "Such a cute little egg-spawn you were, a bit too much of a lover of tails, but cute nonetheless." She shook her head in disbelief as I followed her away from the town square, and all the way back to the inn where we were apparently staying for more than just the night.
The inside of the inn was quiet, if not for the snoring of more than a few drunken customers. Slumped against the table, Mansel was resting side by side with a few other Redguards. The presence of more than just one inn made it reasonable why they hadn't yet found their mark. Perhaps if the city had actually been as big and wide as the game's they wouldn't have needed the Dragonborn to discover the woman.
"We have returned with food," Ocheeva said as she stepped inside the room.
"We?" Rae asked, as I stepped inside in turn. "Ah, you were freed?" the young woman asked, "how nice!" she smiled, "You can show Berry around the festivities then," she grinned as she gestured to her side, where the young girl was wearing what could only be described as a nice one-piece dress, if thickly covered in furs due to the temperature. This wasn't a game, after all, temperature was a real thing.
Not that I could feel it, since I had enough mead in my body to make me ponder on the meaning of life and death, and yet I was still quite sober.
They needed to up their game, these Nords and their alcohol.
"Sure," I said with a shrug, "If you see Willow, stall her for time."
Rae giggled, "Ah, Umbra...you don't remember, but...fine," she beckoned me closer, and then whispered once I was within earshot, "Dragnor was not lying when he told you what to say to Willow back then. Just do a trembling lip and plead with the meekest voice you can manage. She'll let you off the hook. She always does, even with Dragnor."
I belatedly realized that was the main reason he hadn't been shackled during the party. The...the bastard. He had a Get out of Willow-Jail card and he didn't even tell me! The cur, the vile fiend!
"Is there still something to eat or is everything here?" Berry asked, glancing at the platter in my hands, which I gently left on the table inside. "Did you leave something for the beggars too?"
"They ate their fill first," I replied as I gestured for the door, "Shall we go?"
"If you make me link arms like some fancy lady I'll stab you," Berry replied quite firmly, showing a dagger by her side.
"Please," I scoffed, "Get old enough to be called lady if that's what you want." I then easily sidestepped her lunge meant to shove me, and ended up outside the room and into the corridor of the inn, "Come on, Berry. Let's go get you some fame, oh mighty Dragonborn."
"Yeah, you're right," Berry said while lifting her chin up in pride. "I'll be on the mouth of every bard now, just you see!"
It was only when we stepped out into the chilly night of Whiterun and made our way to the few remaining people still partying and still sober enough to do so, which weren't as many as one would think, that the dots connected themselves to form a stray thought, which in turn became reality a second later.
The Greybeards had remained silent.
Oi, Berry, I think we need to get you shout to make them acknowledge you.
Whiterun was partying wildly. People were laughing and dancing, music and bards were at every corner, loud songs and cheerful gestures had replaced the moody darkness and grief of the afternoon, when the dead had been buried, and the last rites of their creed proclaimed. Talos' name had been invoked too, and no one had said anything, for that was the way Whiterun worked, and if the ears go momentarily deaf, then so be it.
Drums rumbled in the night accompanied by flutes and strings played by harps. Every barrel of mead that could be scrapped was, and every bit of meat that could be roasted, Skeevers included, was too. Today was the day man had reenacted its conquest over the dragons, and had emerged victorious.
Nothing like a common foe to convince both Gray-Mane and Battle-Born to cheer and drink together.
But amidst the crowd, a lonely spot of darkness and silence remained. It was the spot where cloaked dark purple figures stood with sharp jawlines and golden skin. The Thalmor, normally seen only in random encounters, where instead a fixed presence in the town itself.
Hirume was also one of them, her eyes and expression perhaps softer than those of her companions, but she was still there, among them.
Was it necessity? Was it obligation? Was there a reason for her to be among the Nazi-Elves? She didn't look the type to hate other races due to their differences, and yet...yet there she was, standing there, watching, quietly judging, doing nothing but sipping a cup of what I supposed was wine while her comrades muttered this or that about the people in front of them and their drunken revelry.
"Drink with me, man!" a robed figure bellowed as he clasped a hand against my back, making me wince as I turned to look at him. He sat down by my side on the bench that had been hastily rebuilt by the Gildergreen, and which was one of the many new pieces of furniture that now adorned the central square, the rest being long tables where people were cheering and drinking and eating. "Let us celebrate!" he added.
I quietly lifted my left arm, showing the shackle that apparently tied me to the bench's armrest itself.
"My condolences," the man spoke as he gave a small nod. "What did you do? Left the precious carpets of your wife's great-grandmother to die in the fire because they were so ugly you'd been waiting on the occasion?"
"I actually went and convinced the dragon to land," I replied quite smoothly, nodding to myself as I said that. "Also, don't try to break the shackle. Somewhere in the crowd there is a Bosmer with a bow and an arrow, and although I can't see her, she can see me. The arrows will always strike your ass."
The man raised an eyebrow, "Always?"
"Always," I replied with a sour nod. More than a few valiant heroes had been by such an arrow punctured, but had taken it in stride as the arrow had been imbued with some sort of venom that made them forget they had been hit to begin with. Honestly, it was one thing to be stealthy in the game, but to be that stealthy in this reality? There had to be some sort of poison that rendered one's mind sort of disconnected on the latest events. It had to be what Willow was using, wherever she was hiding in the crowd.
"A pity!" the man exclaimed loudly, "You look like the type of man that given a chance would do great things at a party!"
"Oh, you have no idea," I smiled back, "But I can't even leave my bench, so I'm glad for the merry company at least."
"Such sweet words!" a hand passed around my shoulder, the figure drawing near. In that instant, an arrow pierced the wood of the bench between us. The man stumbled slightly backwards, "Why, and here I thought I was being subtle about it," he muttered as he pulled a flask in his hand back into his pocket, "Everyone should enjoy a drink, even those in chains!"
"It doesn't work that way, or it wouldn't be a punishment," I replied with an awkward chuckle. "But it's all right, the Gods will see to it that I am appropriately rewarded in one way or another before the night's end," I grinned.
The robed man furrowed his brows, and then smirked. "Ah, I see! I see, well then, most pious man of them all, I bid you a good festivity and a hearty goodbye!" he stood back up and left, jumping into a crowd of men to dance and sing together and raucously enjoy the merriment. He disappeared from my sight minutes later, having joined another group and then one more yet again.
I exhaled loudly and wiped away the sweat from my brow. A few seconds later, and Tsavi sat down by my side, a plate with a piece of roasted lamb in her hands. It was the hardest-looking piece of roast with the least amount of condiment and spices. "Tsavi tried to keep the potatoes from rolling on the ground," the Khajiiti said while flapping her ears right and left, "But Tsavi failed when big sister willow knocked them out with her arrows."
I blinked and grimaced, "Isn't that terribly risky? She could have hit you."
"The arrows were without the tip," Tsavi said helpfully. "She would never hurt Tsavi, or any of her siblings." The giant humanoid cat then handed the plate over and fidgeted, "Does youngest brother remember anything about Tsavi yet?" she asked while preening up, only for the small negative shaking of my head making her slump her ears flat against her head once more in melancholy. "It is all right," Tsavi said, "Tsavi remembers for both of us then."
"I'd like to know more about my relationships with everyone else," I said.
"Tsavi can only speak for Tsavi, because youngest brother is a po...polygon," Tsavi said quite convinced of the word.
"Polygon?" I asked.
"One nod for the sad, one grimace for the wrong, one curt gesture for the rude, one smile for the happy," Tsavi said, her tail twitching right and left. "A person is a polygon when they act with difference to different things," she nodded, quite proud of herself.
I gave a bite to the roasted piece of meat, and then hummed. "Polyhedric, the word is polyhedric, and it means with many sides."
"What did Tsavi say?" she huffed, "have you read any new books?" she asked next.
"No, not really," I replied, shaking my head. "There are more important things to do right now, so reading books is kind-of...not important." Also, I unashamedly admitted that I didn't read the books in Skyrim to begin with. Well, I'd push the button just in case they were skill books, but I'd never read them. A Thief of Virtue was kind-of an exception, but mainly because it was a funny story and so I remembered it.
"Tsavi doesn't understand that," the Khajiit said, a certain smudge of sadness in her voice. "We always read books even when we were busy."
"We did?" I asked.
Tsavi nodded, "But we couldn't read every night," she continued. "Tsavi remembers when Umbra and Mansel were small, and they would curl up near my fur to keep warm. They would play with Tsavi's tail, and Tsavi would read stories," she preened up considerably at that, as if taking pride in it. "Umbra and Mansel both were my own little cubs to keep warm at night, but Mansel became all...prissy when he grew up." She sadly shook her head.
Around us, the festivities kept going.
"I see," I said. "So...Mansel's the youngest one barring me?"
"He is," Tsavi said. "He hasn't found what he wants to do in his life yet, but Tsavi is sure he'll do great things. It will be sad when he leaves and settles...but big sister Hirume will be the first, so Tsavi is already sad about that."
"Hirume...is settling?" I asked, glancing towards the Thalmor corner, where the woman in question was doing her best to appear as steel-eyed as possible and failing miserably at that.
"Yes," Tsavi said, "Not just work, but also life," the Khajiiti continued. "She will bear a cub of her own too," here the giant humanoid cat smiled, "And she has come to be with her mate."
"Oh," I said. "Uh," I blinked. "Who's the guy?"
"Tsavi doesn't remember the name, because it's a silly Altmer name," Tsavi said while shrugging lightly, "Eldest sister Willow doesn't know either, because otherwise she would have hunted him down and big sister Hirume did not wish for that."
I was about to say something when a bulky figure stopped right in front of me, the green-skin of Sharrum clearly visible even as he held two pretty young women, a Redguard and a Nord, in his arms. "And this here is my little brother! Come on, enough being punished by our eldest sister," he laughed vicariously as he let go of the Nord to wrestle the shackles free, an arrow hitting and shattering against his reinforced armored ass.
...
I stared at my best older brother.
"Sharrum," I said in awe, "You reinforced your armor's butt-cheeks."
The orc winked, "My perversion will never be denied!" he laughed again as he recovered the Nord woman, "Now go, mingle with the crowd while I hold back our eldest sister! I valiantly sacrifice myself for you tonight, little brother!" and with that said, he spun with both girls in his arms ready to face the full brunt of an invisible and deadly predator that was without a doubt nearing among the crowd.
I took his wise counsel and did just that, Tsavi following me as we reached for the closest keg of mead and empty mugs. The first sip of mead was delicious, and the second even more.
"Wait a moment," a voice spoke by my right, "You're the guy who insulted the dragon down!" a bearded man exclaimed, a hand thumping against my shoulder as I found myself thrust into a crowd of cheering men and women. "Chug with us, brave man!" another yelled, and as I was flung around like some kind of doll, I ended up losing sight of Tsavi. I stopped mid-pushes, trying to recover my ground and seek out my Khajiiti sister, only for other hands to grab hold of me.
"I was there by the tree when this man called the dragon down!" a cheerful voice, my hand ended up raised up high as I found myself spinning in the middle of a joyful chorus. Perhaps I preferred the bench, admittedly. "He spoke to it, and down he came! Never did I see such courage in someone who wasn't a Nord!"
I was trying to hide from my eldest sister, not join the crowd in their revelry and get caught once more. The keyword was stealth and silence, not getting brought into the spotlight. "And down he came, the wretched worm, but a brave imperial to his honor sworn, defied the beast's roar with his words, and struck the dragon down with raised sword!" a Bard began to sing, the lines clearly improvised.
"The one with the sword was another, not me," I tried to say, only for cheers and noise to drown my words out. I still kept on trying to free myself from the clutch of the Nord that was holding my wrist, and failing miserably at that. "I just talked to get the dragon down."
"The power of the Voice then!?" someone yelled, "Can he use the thu'um too!?"
"No, no! Most definitely not!" I replied, "I just yelled loud enough insults on the dragon's mother. Those always work, you know the kind!"
A round of laughter soon followed, but a new mug was thrust in my hands by the Nord that still clung on to my wrist. "Uhm...could you let go of my wrist now?" I asked, only for the man to laugh and pull me along into yet another group of festive Nords. "Oi, I said—"
"This is the guy with the greatest guts I ever saw!" he yelled, pushing me in front of him, "Yelled at the dragon to get down and fight like a man, and the dragon obliged him!"
"Oh really? Now wasn't that brave? Raise your mug with us, man!" an old wrinkled Nord did so, and I returned the gesture automatically. More men and women came and went, but no matter how hard I tried, I could no longer leave the group as more people would walk behind me, even as the Nord let go of my wrist.
By the time my mug was empty, another filled itself.
When in the end the party began to die down and the people started leaving, I realized I hadn't seen the rest of my siblings at all.
Ocheeva was the first I found. Mostly, she was the only Argonian still milling around the party, her expression wary even as she tried some of the local delicacies. Cheese and fish, for example, was one such thing that I hadn't dared try. Cheese and fish put on a platter together with roasted lamb and potatoes was apparently the best way to destroy all flavors, but who was I to judge when my own eating habits at buffets amounted to pretty much the same thing?
"Big sister?" I asked as I awkwardly neared her, her crocodile-like snout breaking into a wry grin as I called her. "Where are the others?"
"Dragnor lies drunk together with the companions," she gestured with her tail to where a table held the most valiant of people being also the most drunk, and some of them were soundly asleep. "Sharrum has left for his debaucheries. I last saw Mansel speak to some other Redguards." She smiled. "Eldest sister Willow has been hunting you throughout the night, but your abilities to elude her have returned at the very least, youngest egg-brother."
"What about Tsavi and Ralvas?" I asked, furrowing my brows as I recalled their names, and grabbed a platter myself of whatever was left. It wasn't much, unsurprisingly, but there was still something, which was a surprise by itself.
"Ralvas never enjoyed parties in which there was not a challenge to be had, and Tsavi is not a party-Khajiit. She prefers silence and a book," Ocheeva shook her scaly head, and then flicked her eyelids open and close once. "You have forgotten everything, Umbra. I am worried. Do you remember nothing at all of Cyrodiil? Of the time in the sewers? Of the cold days, or the hot days? The sad moments, and the happy ones?"
I grimaced, and shook my head. "No, nothing. But if it was a blow to the head, I'm sure it will pass one day, won't it?"
"I hope so. Mansel is quite sour about the lack of his best rival," Ocheeva smiled, "And I do miss my warm big-sister-entitled hugs," she continued nonchalantly. "Such a cute little egg-spawn you were, a bit too much of a lover of tails, but cute nonetheless." She shook her head in disbelief as I followed her away from the town square, and all the way back to the inn where we were apparently staying for more than just the night.
The inside of the inn was quiet, if not for the snoring of more than a few drunken customers. Slumped against the table, Mansel was resting side by side with a few other Redguards. The presence of more than just one inn made it reasonable why they hadn't yet found their mark. Perhaps if the city had actually been as big and wide as the game's they wouldn't have needed the Dragonborn to discover the woman.
"We have returned with food," Ocheeva said as she stepped inside the room.
"We?" Rae asked, as I stepped inside in turn. "Ah, you were freed?" the young woman asked, "how nice!" she smiled, "You can show Berry around the festivities then," she grinned as she gestured to her side, where the young girl was wearing what could only be described as a nice one-piece dress, if thickly covered in furs due to the temperature. This wasn't a game, after all, temperature was a real thing.
Not that I could feel it, since I had enough mead in my body to make me ponder on the meaning of life and death, and yet I was still quite sober.
They needed to up their game, these Nords and their alcohol.
"Sure," I said with a shrug, "If you see Willow, stall her for time."
Rae giggled, "Ah, Umbra...you don't remember, but...fine," she beckoned me closer, and then whispered once I was within earshot, "Dragnor was not lying when he told you what to say to Willow back then. Just do a trembling lip and plead with the meekest voice you can manage. She'll let you off the hook. She always does, even with Dragnor."
I belatedly realized that was the main reason he hadn't been shackled during the party. The...the bastard. He had a Get out of Willow-Jail card and he didn't even tell me! The cur, the vile fiend!
"Is there still something to eat or is everything here?" Berry asked, glancing at the platter in my hands, which I gently left on the table inside. "Did you leave something for the beggars too?"
"They ate their fill first," I replied as I gestured for the door, "Shall we go?"
"If you make me link arms like some fancy lady I'll stab you," Berry replied quite firmly, showing a dagger by her side.
"Please," I scoffed, "Get old enough to be called lady if that's what you want." I then easily sidestepped her lunge meant to shove me, and ended up outside the room and into the corridor of the inn, "Come on, Berry. Let's go get you some fame, oh mighty Dragonborn."
"Yeah, you're right," Berry said while lifting her chin up in pride. "I'll be on the mouth of every bard now, just you see!"
It was only when we stepped out into the chilly night of Whiterun and made our way to the few remaining people still partying and still sober enough to do so, which weren't as many as one would think, that the dots connected themselves to form a stray thought, which in turn became reality a second later.
The Greybeards had remained silent.
Oi, Berry, I think we need to get you shout to make them acknowledge you.
Last edited:
ABitToTheWest
Trilogy
...Sam Guevenne?
- Location
- Edmonton
- Pronouns
- He/Him
They'd have to hear her shout. I think that's what signalled it to them in game, I haven't played in years so my memory is fuzzy.