Tell me, that you somehow feel like this should have been in the cannon, dragon riding Giants
What's on your mind?
I've been around on the Fallout wiki for a while now and decided to check out the TES wiki (that's you!).
For my first post I wanted to ask, if you had to set up a business in the TES world, any province, any era; what would it be?
I'd found a theatre group that would travel through all the provinces and perform the greatest and most revered plays of Tamriel. Classics such as The Lusty Argonian Maid or The Sultry Argonian Bard, but also lesser known, but still very enojoyable works, such as The Sandy Spear of Alik'r and Two Moons for Sugar.
It would probably fare best during the Third Era, shortly before all that nasty Mehrunes Dagon stuff kicked off, as it was a relatively peaceful time for Tamriel.
Maybe i could use it for dragons ? What should I enchant it with for dragons
What's the best way to level up early game? Exploits are welcome.
Also what's the best way to get my smithing and enchanting high?
Foreword: Here it is, the second chapter. Took me long enough but I also had to deal with revisiting a bunch of other stuff. I hope you like this one also. Have fun reading! :D
Featuring the Scavenger by Dawnknight21!
Word Count: 3,457
The tremendous shift from expectancy to vile reality was harsh and utterly unforgiving. It sparked in me an emotion I could at the time only hardly describe. A mixture of surprise, fear and disdain. But somewhere within lurked something else entirely. It was a sense of something catastrophically apocalyptic that crept in the bleak alleys of my mind. For the vista we beheld harboured some inherent disaster, albeit I couldn't quite place it.
Nephethys and I stood at the brink of this heretofore unknown realm of dæmoniac purport.
I scrutinized the horizon with fastidious minuteness to reassure myself that it was, indeed, the living, breathing dimension of the heinous canvas from space through which I suspected we had traveled. The very amount of similarities to it and the abominably real counterpart was staggering.
But it was only by the professional acumen from my years in the Imperial Investigative Division that I noticed some odd differences in the landscape.
For one, as opposed to the painting's portrayed angle, Nephethys and I appeared to be in a slightly differing spot. This location obfuscated partly the view of the looming mountain ridges. Aside from this, the two of us also failed to see the brooding, dark gem that was perched on top of a towering structure on a lonely island. Moreover, our gazes did not spy the half-decayed forest in its entire and complete odiousness.
The conclusions I drew thence led me to believe that we'd have to travel elsewhere to receive a proper glimpse of the world at hand. And perhaps, I thought, this was a first clue. A hint as to where we should let our feet carry us first.
Slightly dazed, I turned around and looked up into the heavy skies. The grey wall of rock that constituted the outside of the cave we had just emerged from stretched approximately a hundred meters upward, crowned by a balustrade of some proportion that slightly jutted out of the rock face. Said protrusion appeared to be chiseled from the solid stone, including the railing around the terrace's edges. From inside the caverns one could not reach it.
As intrigued as I was by those tremulous, shriveled creatures that preceded our egress into the bewildering plains of these lands, I had the implacable urge to find a way onto that balcony. With Nephethys in tow I turned right in an effort to circle around the hill in hopes of uncovering some means of ascent. And sure enough, when we, after a few minutes of treading the arid ground, reached the backside of the formation we inspected, there revealed itself to us not one, but two startling views.
After a dry gust had blown away our footprints in the brown, powdery sands, the first thing I noticed after the dusts which obstructed my vision had faded, was a flight of presumably ancient stairs. Carved into the stone itself, they wound themselves up the rather steep hill where it would meet with the sky.
On the opposite side, however, I could spy a terrible shore adjacent to, and no doubt in conjecture with, a red, foul, carnal sea with raging waves and hideously malformed silhouettes moving quickly beneath the water's surface. This body of water appeared to be limitless, completely devouring my reverent gaze all the way to the horizon's farthest point of reference.
At that moment I briefly wondered what lay beyond the sanguine gulfs and streams but dared not to think of it further, lest I discover truths meant to he hidden. Another question, still, occupied my worried mind when I tried to picture what eerie lifeforms might conceal themselves under the vile waters.
What lurketh malevolently under the sea?
I quickly banished those detestable deliberations when I heard these strange words in my head. They were not born from my own fancy, I was certain. Or did something more sinister gnaw at my sanity?
Decently overcome with an alien dread, the source of which I could in no way deduct from any one impression, I turned around to face the steps I was inclined to traverse. As I looked at them, I could observe their quite ruinous state which suggested them to be of rather old date.
Clambering up the two hundred steep, debris-infested indentations proved to be obscenely cumbersome. But the fatigue we submitted ourselves to should be rewarded.
When we finally reached the terrace I had espied earlier, I at last gazed at the full extent of the unfamiliar country below and beyond. The dark tower and its isle were now plainly visible to the eyes of the beholder, the jagged mountain ridges that - quite literally, in fact - cut into the heavens now perceptible in their true and unnatural grandeur. The forest, at last to be seen in its complete capacity and scope. But then a frightening thought snuck into my consciousness as I marvelled at the incredible scenery.
For it almost felt as if the painter had been standing where I now stood. But was all this not of the mad Lord's design? The riddles and puzzles suddenly mounted. I saw now behind the elusive curtains while I observed the broken down structures and dried lakes.
For if the artist creates such magnificence, would it not be in their best interest to have everything in pristine condition? Is it not his desire to paint its life with splendour rather than pestilence? Everything I glimpsed retained a queer sense of antediluvian antiquity that just could not be, considering how this place had allegedly been conjured into existence only recently.
A whirlwind of different forms of anxiety ravaged my mind as I dared not think to myself that which I suspected.
Nephethys eyed me inquisitively. "What's wrong?" she asked. I replied:
"What if this place hasn't been created by him? What if he only procured a means of travel to it? Opened the gate? What if this hellscape had already existed several eras ago?"
There was this gradually growing apprehension. The implications of my inquiries, provided my suspicions were correct, posed a conclusion more horrible than the prospect of a madman creating a world like this. Because if it is true, there is no telling what other unsaintly realms might hide beyond our conceptions. And what dwells within them.
Distressed, the two of us turned around in order to descend, but we halted our movement for but a moment. From our newly discovered vantage point, we could now with unprecedented clarity behold the shadow-plagued ocean that bothered me so. And indeed, even from here I could see no new land formations occupying the horizon. The sheer extent of it unsettled me on a primal level. A kind of fear which I could not explain but felt as if it was inherent to life. Something I had no control over. I watched the liquid undulate about, not sure if it was truly liquid or a viscous mass of dissolved flesh. A fresh wind sent odours of utmost repugnancy and foetor our way, stemming from the endless sea.
Even more disturbed, I hastened down the steps, secretly hoping to never have the misfortune of having to sail along the coagulated brine of the mucous sludge beaches that reeked so dreadfully. My Dunmer friend followed me shortly afterwards.
I took great efforts in getting away from that condemnable shore and walked forward with a rushed pace, towards the windy, arid dunes wherein the Blind dwelt. After a few meters, an out of breath Nephethys called for a stop.
"Where do we go?" she inquired. I pondered, for there were a few paths to be taken.
Straight ahead lay the barren plains of sand and skeletons, inhabited by starved and scared creatures. Said creatures made their homes in the ruins hither and thither dotting the landscape.
Off to the right were the thorny woods and broken gallows. A fort was situated within the briar-infested thicket, but only the Divines could have guessed at what would await our advent into its walls. From there up north ran a path straight to where we knew was the tenebrous tower, perched on its top and lined with horns of stone a crystal of dark radiance.
Shifting my eyes to the left hand side, I spied a few hills and cave entrances on burnt earth, among which was discernible a road to the spiky mountains.
The two of us contemplated our options. Eventually we concluded that it was probably for the best if we sought shelter first, taking our general tiredness and strained selves into account. The most immediately reachable stood straight on, betwixt the blind things and a host of ruinous architecture, accentuated by osseous remains of various sizes. From simple humanoid skeletons to carcasses as great as two bears.
Slightly dissuaded from aforementioned remains, we set out to wander the cold sands. No paved way appeared to be present. And if there once had been, I suspected the uncontrollable weather to have chafed it away long ago.
We trod the drought-stricken land, moving ever closer to the already withered cadavers and destroyed buildings. When the feeble bipeds were made aware of our presence they began to scurry off into the worn, crumbling walls of what I assumed to at one time must have been a quaint settlement, hiding themselves. While we were on our way to enter the least squalid house with the least amount of disrepair, I failed to shrug off a sense of something dreadfully malicious about this place as we drew closer to our destination.
I caught myself asking: what were those sorry things so afraid of? What had taught them that anything beyond vacancy is a threat?
Regardless of our growing concern we continued onward until we arrived at a broken doorway to one of the depraved dwellings. We were quick to claim ingress for our increasing weariness urged us to sit down and rest.
Scanning the arguably small confines of the space we found ourselves in revealed two large enough boulders for resting purposes about two meters off to the left. Further observation shewed a long cold fireplace straight ahead as well as a bare, rusted bed railing along dusty remains of what I figured to once have been an end table adjacent to it.
The entire room was approximately seven meters in total breadth and as such suitable for our temporary tenancy.
Nephethys and I took a few steps further into the inside, aiming for the two pieces of rubble, when we heard something move within the chimney directly above the woodless fireplace.
With apprehension drew we our weapons, ready to end the life of whatever hid itself in the walls. More violent shuffling could be heard, faint dusts and fumes trickling down the tight quarry. The cobblestone wall at my blade's tip, I fiercely rammed my boot against it whereunto the fragile frame of one of the blind creatures tumbled down to hit the floor with a noisome crack. In its defense, it clouded our vision with a bloody mist before limping outside. Its leg had definitely been compromised from the fall.
The two of us followed its movements. Just before we would avert our gazes from it to turn around and get some rest, we witnessed a prodigious shadow speed by, seizing the famished biped after which it left a sanguine trail in its wake.
"Great", Nephethys remarked, "We seem to have just beheld the reason for their fright".
Whatever the incredibly fast shade was it appeared to be the source of the omnipresent anxiety among the indigenous life forms around these parts. Judging by the remains of its victim, that monster employed a kind of force past our abilities to combat it.
She and I looked at each other while an oppressive feeling of insecurity made our blood quicken. How naïve to think only harmless beings would roam this strange country!
Gnawing hunger encroached ever so slowly but we could not allow ourselves to rest easy with an imminent threat at hand. The slightest lapse in concentration could mean our demise. As such, abatement was impossible to consider.
A few disconcerting moments later, heavy footfalls on the ground outside disturbed the fine, powdery layer that sat on top of it. Its sound got carried by the winds which themselves appeared to increase in their intensity, accompanied by a feral grunting and growling. An almost wet breath slowly closed in on us as we stood there, unmoving, in trying to not arouse the animal any further.
We snuck away from the door frame with almost comically careful steps, out of its line of sight should it peer through it. Queerly, I hoped for the monster to be greater than its already large shadow implied. If the walls held fast when brutal assault is applied, it could not enter to rend our bodies if the opening didn't permit it to.
The in- and exhaling came ever closer. As we were both hidden away, we were unable to behold its likeness when it strained its nostrils audibly to pick up our scent.
Without warning, an ear-shattering roar made me stumble away from the wall I was hugging. I tried closing my ears with both index fingers while dizzily rocking my head slightly from left to right. The malign power of its voice was enough to paralyze us in fear. A few seconds passed and I regained my composure. Still somewhat hazy, I scouted through a crack in the brick wall to find out more about our horrifying foe.
My limited field of view prohibited me to make out every minute detail but what I saw sent my mind reeling in an act of misguided self-preservation.
A thing of gargantuan size, coated in white fur with black stripes here and there. Huge claws, an order of magnitude suggesting to be twice that of a regular sabre cat from the Nord's homeland. Long streaks of saliva steamed in the creature's trails.
Before I was able to receive a look or two at its head and face, a maddening howl broke the silence and interrupted my observations. In another instant, it appeared to have flung itself against the building with all its might in order to bring it down. A long, thick horn was thrust into the crack I had mere seconds ago used to peek outside, the beast's shoulder threatening to destroy our shelter.
Small bits of debris rained down on us, the wooden support beams of the ceiling bent with raucous moaning.
The beast hurled itself a second time at the wall, causing one of those beams up above to break apart and only barely to miss Nephethys' head. The roof shook violently at the loss of the stabilizing log.
Before long, it caved in. A cataract of heavy stone, planks and straw burying us underneath. Another hateful growl reverberated within our heads as the storm increased in velocity.
We kept still for what felt like an eternity. Buried alive and with troubled breathing, we hoped that the roof that just came down would sufficiently mask our scent and the ever more powerful winds dispersing any remnants thereof. A wave of relief brushed over me as I could hear the slow paws retreat to an unknown location.
When I began shifting and wading through the ruinous remains I noticed how I was largely unharmed apart from a few bruises here and there.
I took great pains to dig myself out but thankfully, the house still stood. Nephethys was likewise occupied with emerging from the pile. However, her injuries were of more serious concern. A sharp rock must have scraped off a large portion of her left forearm's skin while simultaneously breaking it which resulted in a jagged bone protruding from inside her flesh. The hot blood was dripping down, quickly coating the straw that lay scattered about.
When she finally freed herself I saw her grimace at the burning pain. She cursed loudly, seemingly for a moment forgetting that there roamed bloodthirsty entities outside.
We exchanged worried looks before she asked: "Can I request a favour of you?" with broken countenance. "Anything" I replied under my breath. "My tibiæ", she said, " They're enchanted to sap a victim's life force, do you remember? If I could just…". She stopped speaking at my corroborating nod. I knew what was about to happen but it was the only way to prevent her demise.
She fell silent at what she was about to do. Uncertain if it was right. But I needed to ensure her survival. After all, such a ghoulish wound will be her undoing if we did nothing about it. If left unattended, Nephethys would expire from either blood loss or disease very soon.
Slowly making her way through the debris, her hair disobeying in the shrieking gusts that encircled us and made small particles fly around, she closed in. A sorrowful expression took over her face as she gently lifted her leg and prepared herself to hurt me. "I'm sorry, Thorus", she aspirated with watery eyes. Suddenly, her blade slashed my right arm. A deeper than expected cut made the blood flow freely. In the next moment I felt my strength decline while I observed my friend getting reinvigorated by those evil enchantments. Through magic, her bones aligned with each other perfectly while flesh and skin sought each other's propinquity in order to heal.
"By Sithis, I…" was all she said before she tore apart her mask and cut off one of the belts of her armour to provide a bandage. She applied it quickly and with surgical meticulosity to staunch the flow.
Now, however, I truly needed to rest. I've slept not, eaten not and was now partly bereaved of my very life force. I harboured no grudges against her though, for I knew what was at stake and what consequences would have ensued if I had not consented to helping her in this way. And after all, patching up a narrow cut was not as difficult as to mend bones broken in the most fiendish way with missing skin and exposed flesh. It appeared, too, that Nephethys' hunger had been appeased also by this unholy act of blood magic. A practical albeit terrifying side effect of her enchantments.
I carried myself over to where the two boulders had been prior to the collapsing of the roof. The two of us brushed away the remains of the once intact ceiling and finally sat down.
She watched as I grabbed my pouch wherein I had stored the gory provisions. It was now clear to us that we could not hunt and kill whatever beast had compromised our temporary dwelling. And so I had to resort to the only source of food that was at my disposal.
As murderous and as evil as the Dark Brotherhood was, the blasphemous crime I would commit in but a few seconds was not on their agenda. Even vampires stay away from such hideousness. Only a werewolf could not get nauseous at the gruesome imagery that would soon unfold.
The first bite was putrid. Riddled not only with a taste of profound bitterness and noises of the most odious quality while chewing, but also with self-doubt. Moral questions and pictures of dismembered bodies reigned over my feverish mind when I started gagging and coughing right after gulping down the first piece. It was not long before I regurgitated, tiring me even further. The process of ingestion now more strenuous than it was beneficial. But I had no choice. In utter turmoil I resolved to toil. And as I toiled and toiled, Nephethys, too, became sick at my perpetual vomiting, plunging me in unbearable torment.
I had been chewing my seventh bite by the time it stayed in my stomach.
This ghastly meal was an experience most harrowing. And even though this action was completely irredeemable, I needed to survive and not starve. When my hunger finally ceased, my skin was already in a deathly pallor. I could barely think. Talk, even less.
Nephethys swiftly gathered the straw from the caved in ceiling to spread it out over the rusty bed railing supported by a few broken wood beams. She then motioned me to lie down and rest. And rest I was in dire need of.
I stumbled towards the makeshift bed and laid myself on top, limbs outstretched. It took only a few seconds for me to fall asleep amidst the mourning gales that screeched eerily in between the cracks and holes of the dark bricks around us.
As my eyes involuntarily closed, I saw Nephethys, smiling. Her hand softly stroking my head, she whispered into my ear: "Sleep well, my love".
NOTICE: before I start this song realise that the Lyrics are similar to Johnny Cash's songs "All in Drunken Ira-Hase" or whatever its called so if I Wrote a Bards Song here is what it would be like. "Herma-Mora, Herma-Mora. All Old Herma-Mora he won't answer anymore of the Dragonborn Mirrak or the Stormcloak that went to war. Gather around people let me tell you a story of the Deadric Prince of knowledge and memory, in a plane of Oblivion in a Land called Apocalropha There lived the old Deadric Prince known as Herma-Mora. All Old Herma-Mora he won't answer anymore of the Dragonborn Mirrak or the Stormcloak that went to war. Some people say hes good, others say hes bad but, Nether the less his worshipers are really really glad! All Old Herma-Mora he won't answer anymore of the Dragonborn Mirrak or the Stormcloak that went to war. Hes still around, he can't be killed, but among the Deadric Princes hes the Ugliest of them still, this song doesn't praise him nor insult him too but the song is over woohoohoohoohoo.
So a friend got Skyrim for the ps3 a long time ago. My 1st character was a heavy armor mace/flames hybrid because I read "takes additional damage" and read that as a debuff, not a damage over time. I joined the mages and got to my 1st Chaurus before I couldn't advance through the dungeon further.
Same friend has moved on with their life and is not a fan of Skyrim or the ES in general. I am a huge fan.
I realized that I like the games because they're like Dungeons and Dragons Jr. You pick a race and equipment and skills, you gain levels and fight critters and dungeon dive and there's some sort of story that joins together the missions. It just isn't as involved with multi sided dice.
I also realized that when I first started I didn't understand the type of game. I thought more like a Legend of Zelda game. Didn't give thought to armor aside from the biggest number. Same with weapons. Its SO MUCH MORE! ❤
Need help new just want level up and get gold. Would be help if u could show me newbie guide.
Hiya! So I've only just recently joined the wiki but been in the fandom for a very long time. I've recently gotten into the online aspect of The Elder Scrolls after playing Skyrim, Oblivion and Oblivion over and over again, and as ESO is not a single player experience, it's definitely been catered for group playing, anyone got any suggestions on the best quests for single player or at least how to find a good group? I play on Xbox but do want to switch to PC some time next year.
If you were to be any Deadric Prince or Aeadra God who would you be? I'd probably be Talos for Aeadra and Auzura for Deadra
How can I change my sneak build to use the crossbow some how
I didn’t think i would reach this point, but as the title says, i’m gonna be leaving this fandom for possibly forever, i’ve mostly stayed around for a couple of years though this is my third account, so you can probably guess why it doesn’t seem like it.
If you’re wondering why, it’s mostly because of school and other interests i have. Anyway, i can’t leave without atleast giving you all a nice treat, and so here it is, sadly, for the final time, i present to you.......The Scalebreaker!
Name: The Scalebreaker
Base Value: 435
Short Description: A special violin made by an unknown blacksmith for Aquila Martel, it’s instilled with the distinct Daedric power of Sheogorath that makes it perfect for undercover purposes.
Origins: It will be made in the future by the same blacksmith that makes The Rumbler for Rorvar Kintlani to be able to defeat the Loprivia Crime Family.
User: Aquila Martel
Unique Traits: It can perfectly mimic any song the user wants and it can even reflect any shout the user is hit by nomatter it’s power or the wielder’s health. It can also record any words the user hears though it will only work while the violin is being played.
When the dragon head on it’s end is turned, it can make the songs or more specifically the lyrics played on it become real, like if the song “Doom And Gloom” plays, where it’s first lyrics are, “I had a dream last night i was piloting a plane, and all the passengers were drunk and insane”.
The violin will materialize a real plane with actual drunk and insane passengers even if planes weren’t invented in the TES lore. Or if it plays “Ragnar The Red”, it’s first lyrics are “There once was a hero named Ragnar The Red who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorikstead..” A new, full living clone of the old and deceased Ragnar will appear going from Rorikstead to Whiterun riding on a horse.
1. It doesn’t really attack upfront and if you do use it as a close quarters weapon, it will often lead to your demise if you’re alone fighting a strong enemy or just being unprotected while fighting another strong enemy.
2. The wielder should be careful on using it’s materialization ability as one wrong song or lyric can lead to them dying in a lot of different, terrible ways.
I’m stuck in the ratway and I can’t find my way out! Any one have any advice? I’ve tried using clairvoyance and I’ve checked the map a bunch and I can’t get out! I exited the Red Flagon and that’s when I got stuck if that helps
I found a lever that helped me out
If I follow the imperial legion isn't there's a glitch with the quests? In on a xbox 360
So I'm coming towards the end of my current play through as a Nord spellsword vampire lord that uses one handed, conjuration, destruction and restoration. Mainly utilising the unholy powers to conjure dremora from oblivion, atronaches and bound swords. I've done the main quest and dawngaurd and once I have done dragonborn I'm gonna leave it at that.
Now I'm planning on moving onto a new character and having a new adventure. I have a plan for my backstory and I thought I'd share it to see what people think and get some suggestions.
(The next paragraph is backstory skip if you are not interested)
Xal-Valkass is an Argonian sellsword who was a slave for 2 years after escaping his captors he survived in the wild for 5 days taking shelter and scavenging anything he could before a small militia of mixed race (sellswords/adventures) found him. They took him in and brought him to their temporary camp. They fed him and watered him and once he had regained his strength, they began to train him. Xal-Valkass excelled in training and the militia decided to take him in permanently. His first test was to accompany the militia back to his former captors and kill them, freeing the rest of the slaves in the process, the military was successfull. Valkass travelled with them for 3 years. Taking contracts in Cyridil and moving camp to camp the militia was venturing north near Burma and a small group of storm cloaks presumed them to be bandits and attacked on sight. The militia out up a decent fight but inevitably the numbers was too much and they were killed, Vallkass escaped through the forest, using his inherent sneak abilities due to being an argonian. Valkass was one of 3 to escape however, none of the members knew of each others survival and headed in different directions. Valkass headed north to Skyrim, with plans to continue his services as a sellsword and take contracts in Skyrim. Now 25 years old this is where I plan to pick the story up on skyrim. After escaping Helgan I will ignore the main quests and roleplay as Xal-Valkass the sellsword.
My plan is to travel around Skyrim asking for work and taking the contracts, killing bandits and avoiding the main story for a long time. I may join the dawngaurd and I will join the imperial army as Valkass wants revenge on the storm cloaks.
My questions are this, is it possible to always get quests from asking for work?
Does anyone have any ideas for other adventures I could take my character on before becoming the dragon born?
What kind of build could I follow, i wish to be a warrior and not make sure it doesn't get boring add other skills? Is it possible to level up many skills and be decent with them? I plan to use a sword and shield. Restoration, sneak, archery, maybe two handed from time to time and add anything after this to mix it up?
Thankyou for anyone's input. I appreciate this wiki and the community
Skills: Sneak, Security, Speechcraft, Light Armor, Unarmored bc Khajiit, will decide the rest later
Gear: light armor, haven't decided on weapon
Factions: Thieves Guild, house Hlaalu, Morag Tong
Ajirra was born a slave. her parents were enslaved on a plantation in western Morrowind, close to the Cyrodiil border. her mother passed away during childbirth, and no one knew who the father was. the slavemasters were very cruel, and would often inflict collective punishments for anything ranging from disobedience to a poor harvest. Ajirra still has a scar on her left leg from a particularly violent beating.
When she was 15, Ajirra decided to run away. She sneaked out under the cover of night without anyone noticing. By the time her owners noticed one of their slaves was gone, Ajirra was already halfway to Cyrodiil. they sent word to the guards that a fugitive slave might try to cross the border to Cyrodiil, but Ajirra managed to get through by sneaking onto a carriage headed for Cheydinhal.
Now free but penniless, Ajirra had no choice but to beg for scraps. in the two years that followed, she often wondered whether she was truly better off as a free woman. however, she eventually got involved in the local thieves guild, and also did some odd jobs for the strange people who lived in the abandoned house. she built up enough money to buy herself a house, but she gave most of her ill-gotten money to the poor, as she knew their pain, and wanted to do what she could to relieve it.
However, it was not to last. one day, she got caught breaking into the count's castle, and she was shipped to the imperial prison. sometime after that, the Emperor noticed that she seemed to match the criteria of the Nerevarine prophecy, and decided that she'd make a useful tool in securing imperial power in Morrowind. thus, Ajirra was shipped back to the land of her birth.
Notes: this character will free any slave she can, and will give away most of her money to those who need it (the aforementioned freed slaves, for example)
I've done most of the game so far but now the bloodqueen as asked me to find the smuggler I have no other quest to do and have built my full town apart from 4 houses is there anyone that can please help me to find the smuggler
What's the most jerk/rude thing you've done in a TES game? It can be anything from any of the games.
Foreword: Minor wording changes, some punctuation changes and a few tasteful additions to enhance my written word for this revised version of the story. Enjpy.
Word Count: 3,310
I awoke to the cries of my fellows by noon of the next day. Lili's voice was the first I heard. Then followed Horace and Ravaia, Azarain joining in shortly after. "Yagir!" I could hear them holler. "Yagir! Where are you?!" Horace's voice echoed across the open landscape. At first I was under the impression of being in a dream world. As I opened my eyes, a most staggering sight revealed itself to me. It appeared as though I was suddenly teleported into a crystal cave!
Everywhere around me sprouted prismatic appendages from the walls and floor in different colours, seemingly transforming and taking over the room I laid myself to rest in earlier. So much so that even my coarsely sewn-together bedroll started morphing into a solid mat at its edges and corners, with little shards of the colourful growth everywhere. I quickly rose up to my feet, surveying my surroundings. Where there had been a blank and mossy brick wall before, to my left there now stood a sparkling mural of white, blue, red, green, yellow, teal and purple beauty with little spiky, sharp looking gems protruding from it. Gazing to my right I espied a mosaic of stained glass coffins emitting a gay shine in their beauteousness. The floor to my feet, not completely overrun by whatever versicolor coating all this was, twinkled enjoyably, casting lovely shadows at the remains of the partly broken ceiling.
As if in a trance I marvelled at this pulchritudinous display of otherworldly elegancy. I noticed not how close my boots were to the foreign substance but I was swiftly flung into present reality once more by Lili's voice yelling behind me: "Yagir! By the Nine! Are you okay? And what is all this?". I turned around and looked up, seeing the party of four blocking the sun's rays providing me with shadow so I didn't have to squint. All of them stood there in absolute awe at the look of the vitreous caverns I was situated in. And by extension, at the opalescent, gargantuan jewel that had also started giving off various colours as opposed to the night it so brutally crash landed. I responded to my friends, enunciating what had transpired the night before. How a surreal force presented itself to control the adjacent flora and fauna. How the wisps danced. And how the thing from above struck the area after which a pillar of extraneous radiance shot up. And, of course, I told them of my first observations I had made, iterating how I myself was surprised as to the interesting developments that had unfolded over night. Recalling whence I climbed in from, I rapidly ascended the debris-filled cave in whereby I knocked over some protrusions in the fractals of the stony brick floor.
Being above ground again I proceeded to greet my peers with a solid handshake. Lili then started speaking of how the four of them observed an almost indescribable light they spotted from the lodge in Leyawiin and their worries about my well being. They knew the ruins lay in this general direction. Albeit I got thrown around by the blastwave the impact created, I told them, I was fine nonetheless.
After this little chit-chat and Ravaia chastising me on having traveled alone yet again, I gave them my notes I had made that night. Lili, Horace and Azarain studied the pages avidly before proclaiming it's high time we set up camp for our base of operations. As it presently was, we would have much more to do than we previously expected.
We proceeded to build up the different tents my friends brought. First, we set up the big tent in which we'd examine and study specimens taken from the ruins. While Horace and I built this one under Lili's guidance, Azarain and Ravaia started constructing the four smaller tents. Three of them would be used for sleeping in. One for me, one for Horace and Azarain and one for Ravaia and Lilisephona. The last tent would be used as a crude infirmary in case someone contracts disease or injury. You can never be too sure when dungeon delving so it always helps to have some medicinal herbs and some basic alchemical equipment along with a spare cot at hand. Our group also rented some horses to aid in the transport of our wares. After we were done building our shelter, we unloaded our supplies from the six horses my friends brought along. Let me reiterate: you can never be too sure.
Furthermore, our 'better-safe-than-sorry' kind of attitude has saved us in the past. I remember a venture from way back into some cave that was supposed to contain some antediluvian relic of sorts. At one point, the pathways fell to ruin preventing passage in or out those vaults. But Horace was careful enough to carry a pair of pickaxes with him. At the start of our journey we mocked him for that but considered it a boon when we actually needed to dig ourselves out of the solid earth. Needless to say we failed in retrieving said relic but at least we all survived.
Ever since, we always keep a list with us containing notes on crucial supplies. And what can I say? The pickaxes are listed, too. We carried the copious amounts of provisions, tools and collapsible furnishings, mostly stools and two small tables, off the horses and placed it all in our linen-roofed safe holds. When everything was done and all items put into place we took our horses in an effort to tie them to a pole we hammered into the ground by the camp. We cleverly placed our camp near the now colourfully illuminated cave-mouth, so naturally, the steeds and mares had to be brought near it as well.
However, when we approached the site, the horses started going crazy. They jumped and tore at the ropes we used to hold them with, neighing ferociously in denial at the hole's precipice. One kicked Azarain in the chest with its hind legs before disbanding from the herd, driving him into the mud. The others we could keep under control no longer, so we let go of the leashes to avoid getting hurt like poor Azarain had. The animals fled at once, disappearing into the distance in the warm midday sun. We were collectively baffled by such fright when it dawned on us that curiously, the whole area appeared to be vacant of fauna. We did not really have the time to ponder on this quite astounding fact too deeply since we were busy taking care of Azarain as we hurled restoration spells at him from the distance. He swiftly got up again and after thanking us, sported an inquisitive look on his face asking the question we've all been thinking. "What the hell was that?".
In utter bafflement we surveyed the area and indeed, not a living thing could be seen or heard. No wolves or hares, no falcons or even insects. Even the plants seemed to bend away from the crater. I took to explaining this odd detail away by the shockwave that happened, but weird it was regardless. "Gone are the horses. Great." remarked Horace in disappointment.
Reassuringly, Lili told him with a sharp tongue that, should come our investigations with more peril and destruction, we wouldn't have to carry all these materials back anyway. Horace shot her a mocking look and went back to his tent, puffing his cheeks. We all did the same to retrieve food, firewood and some stones to prepare a campfire at which we would eat.
While our group waited on evening to come upon us, we all met inside the big tent to discuss our next steps. We've been working together for years so the operation didn't take much planning. Azarain proposed we'd fashion a rope ladder first to then safely descend into the gay lit cavern, collecting samples for further studies. Horace munched a piece of bread in agreement, adding that the pickaxes should come in handy. In response, Lilisephona remarked it'd be best we wear protective gloves since the crystalline substance had some sharp tips and edges and we wouldn't want to put the infirmary to use too soon. All nodded and were content with the plan thus far.
I then spoke up and proclaimed that, while the other two were digging, I'd investigate deeper into the haunting ruins for any clues that might help us understand what's going on. Lili gave me her okay in this respect and suggested she'd stay in the camp together with Ravaia to guard the premises and coordinate our undertakings.
We all approved in unison and lifted our mugs in acquiescence. After the awkward silence that ensues when everybody present is drinking at the same time, we noticed the sky darken and headed out to light our fire.
As the flames reflected off our eyes by nightfall, we cooked up some venison stew to keep us fed. Grey smoke rose up from the smouldering logs we set ablaze and the smell of freshly cooked meat and charred wood filled the surprisingly stale air around us. While we sat circumjacent to the fire, we told each other stories from the past.
Ravaia recounted a very peculiar client from her time as a sellsword a couple years back. Apparently, the guy was a retired hunter living in a small shack in the Rift woods in Skyrim. For some inexplicable reason he dared not tell, he had an intense fear of caves so he sought Ravaia's help in retrieving some rare herbs from Snapleg Cave betwixt Nilheim to the west and the Rift Watchtower to the southeast. Ravaia could remember his name not, but vividly recalled how shaky and bathed in sweat he was when she entered the cave to fetch the precious greens. Upon successful retrieval and delivery, the client awarded her a surprisingly large amount of coin and hastily disappeared into the forest. "I'm still confused to this day", she then commented. She lifted up her mug and took a gulp of warm mead.
Lili and I then told of our tale in respect to our first meeting at the Throat of the World to which Horace responded by raising one eyebrow. We looked at each other in puzzlement when he finally explained that he was on his way patrolling the roads around Ivarstead with his fellow Stormcloaks when he witnessed someone falling down, getting completely obliterated on impact. Surprised, we all burst into laughter at the notion of how close we actually were to each other.
Azarain had nothing to tell, shrouding himself in mystery as always. He never was too talkative and he never really told us anything from his past. Only that he fled from Morrowind after Red Mountain plunged the province into chaos. For years he had been stranded in Raven Rock on Solstheim mining for ebony until he at last earned enough septims to afford passage to Skyrim's mainland to start his life anew. The only thing he added to the conversation was that he was grateful to have met such amazing companions such as us. He raised his mazte in our honors and drank from it with deep swallows.
Before long, we finished eating our soup and grew tired. It was then time to appoint who'll stand guard during the night. I volunteered and chose Horace for the first half. He agreed silently and so, we put out the fire and got ready to sleep. We sought our tents while Horace stood guard for the first few hours. We all consented upon waking Ravaia and Lili when dawn came so they could prepare the operations while I was able to get a few more hours of rest. I crawled into my bedroll, happy about it being a proper one and not whatever murky thing I fashioned the night before. I briefly wondered if it had been engulfed by those crystals by then as I watched Horace extinguish the fire.
Then all was dark. Only the brilliance of the cavity a few meters away shone lightly through the linen cloth of the tent's fabric.
A cracking noise in the dark. A howl of unnatural origin echoing through the halls. A high pitched screeching surfaced from the shadows. I felt some entity grab my shoulder and call my name. "Yagir!" time and again. An invisible force rattled and shook, swaying me back and forth. I awoke. Horace's face stared down on me.
"Wake up!" he whispered sharply, motioning me out of the tent. Of course, the nightly watch. I quickly got my bearings and crawled out. 'What a strange dream' I thought. I watched as Horace retreated into his shelter and waved at me. Then my glance shifted involuntarily to the glowing aperture in the distance. Keeping watch is important. That shining nozzle in the ground there might attract unwanted attention after all. I headed towards the tent where we stored our most crucial belongings in and from it I produced one of the foldable stools they brought. I set it up between our base and the vitreous dissemination of emptiness to get a good glance over the still forsaken landscape and the ruins. Thereby I wondered how Horace even managed to stay awake without one of these wooden seats. Has he been standing this entire time? "Crazy people" I silently mumbled to myself in disbelief.
For hours I sat there unmoving, observing the colourful beams of light, watching as dark clouds flew by in a very much peaceful atmosphere. I started closing my eyes and meditating, in- and exhaling deeply, achieving an almost trance-like state. I didn't bother with thoughts of a raid or malicious wildlife. After all, living things seemed to avoid this place for some reason.
This meditation went on for several minutes until a noisome crack broke the silence in the dead of night. Disturbed, I opened my eyes. I assumed it came from the Malada ruins. Did something damage the crystals, perhaps? Maybe it was a bit of broken brickwork tumbling down the mound? I readied a fireball in anxiety as I approached the gaping light source. Slowly but in a steady pace I drew closer to it, a growing feeling of repulsion accompanying my every step.
Crack! I fancied something just hit the ground down there. Bigger than mere debris. I was intrigued, yet frightened as to what it might be, causing this breaking of a hitherto serene silence.
Just a few steps more. It was as if an ill gust flew through the burial chamber. At the roughly composed ledge I looked down into the iridescent abyss, utter darkness behind me. I could barely make out the camp in the shadows despite it being so near. I inspected the crash site, looking closely for any sign of heretofore unseen life in the luminous mists. After a while, I concluded there wasn't anything there and my mind, at unrest about the implications of something - anything - being down there, playing tricks on me.
Just as I went to turn around, I thought I saw a shadow moving in the damp, undulating swarthiness of the caverns below. I batted my eyelids several times in response to something I deemed impossible as of yet. The shade appeared to be gone. I returned to my seat, shrugging it off as a mirage. A figment of my imagination. Clever trickery devised by my fear of the unknown and unseen. My elevated heart rate slowed down and I felt moderately at ease again. Although I couldn't shake off the impression that what I thought I fancied seeing was real, I didn't pay any more attention to it. After all, a mind at unrest is a mind without proper focus and concentration. And I knew I needed both for what's to come.
The rest of the night was blissfully uneventful, downright boring to some extent. I watched the distant horizon setting itself aflame in the rising morning light. I folded the stool and brought it back to the great tent before waking Lili and Ravaia. In doing this it dawned on me that Horace must've done it the same way and with a slightly embarrassed "Oooh" I proceeded to Lili's tent.
I woke her gently by stroking her cheeks. Ravaia immediately grabbed my wrist in response and held it in a tight grip as she looked at me. She then shyly apologized, remarking that one could never be careful enough. As she withdrew her hand a slight hematoma formed on my pale skin. Ravaia poked Lili in the face to which she grumpily woke, complaining that this "had to stop or else".
Ravaia and I both chuckled at Lili's mood and I was subsequently relieved of guard duty, free to take a nap before we'd start to uncover the secrets of this celestial stone.
"Do you like that, eh?" were the first words I heard that morning while simultaneously being poked in the face with a wooden stick.
Apparently, Lili took our snickering a few hours ago much more seriously than Ravaia and I thought. She beckoned me to get up so that I don't miss the meeting by which goals were established and tasks assigned. I dressed myself and clumsily rolled out into the open. The morning sun blinded my vision under the clear sky as I laid on my back for several seconds. In hazy puzzlement I got up and staggered towards the unlit fireplace passing it by, sniffing the odor of cold ash and burnt wood.
I entered the big tent and was greeted by my friends who stood around a table waiting for me. I never was a morning person, anyway.
Lili spoke up, placing her long, golden hair behind her back making it fall off her blue robe. She once again went over what we had discussed yesterday, reiterating on what had been planned and adding to that list some other tasks.
Specifically, I was to investigate the ruins and note down anything suspicious I could find whereas Horace and Azarain were to collect and surface any gem fragments they'd uncover, careful not to break anything in the process. When they were done they got assigned to gather more firewood while Lili coordinated it all. Ravaia was to stay in the camp in case she needed to defend herself, Lili and our goods from raiders or hostile wildlife. In between all this, Lili would brew some potions and concoct a few remedies for anyone who got hurt or contracted a sickness.
The part about getting hurt she said with an annoyed tone in her voice looking at me in a scolding manner pertaining to my general clumsiness. We all nodded in agreement and proceeded to have some breakfast before our work began. Then we all got ourselves ready for the tasks at hand that should keep us occupied for the entirety of the day. I prepared by packing a pickaxe (just in case), a steel dagger, two red and three blue potions (for life force replenishment and magicka rejuvenation, respectively), some food and water as well as my trusty quill, ink and paper.
The three of us, Horace, Azarain and myself, wandered towards the ever sparkling mound together. Horace had during his night shift constructed a rope ladder from spare rope and leftover logs. We anchored the ladder with two big iron nails driven into the ground and threw it down the ledge. To our amazement, the chamber seemed much more alight than conceived previously and my makeshift bedroll was also gone.
Notwithstanding these odd occurrences, we climbed down the ladder. On the way down I noticed one colour missing from the obelisk and a small crack seemed to have appeared on one of its six sides.
I got about 60 misc quests which should I d Do first ? Also how should I. Go about getting alot of iron ore not ingot because in doing rings. What's the best light armor that I can craft and enchant my self ?