The TES Roleplayer's Thread

[CBR JGWRR]

It comes to me by Top Gear actually; Richard Hammond talked about it while doing an MX-5 review, about how jinba ittai had influenced the design of the car. Which made a lot of sense to me, because I function best in synergy with bikes or cars as I parse them the same way I parse animals. (there is a huge amount of connection between a car and a cow, when you stop to think about them)

That's why it makes it difficult and she can't forgo armour, for example, because she's already set in heavy armour. There are work-arounds of course, use of a different material that is plant-based for example as a replacement, but I don't have the technical ability to mod Skyrim to actually effect that, because it would need modifying the meshes, the textures, the crafting recipe of any armour she'll use, adding the cloth that she can use to the game which requires all three plus whatever is needed for the manufacture thereof - it's beyond my abilities.

Looking at it a different way - consider a restaurant. She orders a vegan meal, but there is a mistake, and so one with meat comes in to her. How would she respond? And the answer to that is from her perspective that to reject the meal would see the food thrown out as it can't be served again (maybe in Tamriel it could, but not in the world I live in because it has to be chucked for health and safety law, and since she's part of exploring my world through her it kind of sticks...) and because she fundamentally wants to honour the animal throwing it away isn't an option and so the most respectful is to eat the remains thanking it for its sacrifice, because then instead of being thrown away it contributed to the sustainment of life - her - even if she would have preferred a different way.
Fundamentally therefore, she could use stuff made from animals who have already died, because it is still similar. It is not what she wants, but she understands this is not a perfect world, and to use armour as an example, if the animal has laid down its life in order to be made into leather; can that not give the animal the opportunity to accomplish good by protecting her after it has died? It is not what she wants, but in her eyes it would be making the best use of a bad situation.

Erriene-Rulindil is an interesting paring like that - and I doubt anyone else has ever thought Rulindil deserves to marry the Dragonborn, but somehow it seems perfect for them; but I'm not sure how she could do it.

What if Rulindil is the Thalmor soldier who wanted to have mercy on her way back in the earlier story? Now that would be a twist... Not a fully comfortable one given it would take Erriene through marrying someone who raped her, but in a way that would just make it even more of a prize to her that someone who once raped her as nothing but a sex toy while under the influence of the Thalmor would become someone who when freed from their grasp becomes someone she's glad to call husband? It is redemption, and she'd like that.

It would give them both pause to think for a second. I mean, it wouldn't break the quest; the objective updates on finding about Esbern, not on anything to do with Rulindil, so it therefore could be done if she has a way to induce him to follow her, which is what I don't have right now.

This is utterly crazy though... I mean, marrying her to her abuser? I know for her she isn't marrying her abuser, she's marrying a man who in a former life abused her but he is not that man now.

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

I'm sure there is someone who would be willing to get the Dark brotherhood to take out a high up Thalmor agent inside the Embassy...

Of course, there is the unknown gem that got moved from Elenwen's Solar to the cave; if she's doing that quest, that gives an opening to go in if you modded the game to put it back in it's original place. Or maybe as an additional special job in Haafingar? There's bound to be a lot of notice for successfully carrying out an operation on the Thalmor, which is part of restoring the Guild...


Edit to add - Rulindil actually works out really well here, because canonically he is a recent transfer into the Embassy, because his predecessor was sent back for re-education. So, it provides an opening to explain how he could be the one who raped her the first time and still get to Skyrim; after Erriene 's stay, a review finds the chief torturer incompetent for failing to break a 14 year old girl, Rulindil is promoted, then is promoted again to come to Skyrim as Third Emissary. Hmm.

[Finn Wolfshorn]

Danger, Will Robinson! I'd say making Rulindil (one of) the actual rapist(s) would pretty much preclude anything resembling marriage. Sympathy, yes - redemption, respect, friendship - I can see all of these happening if he really changes. But do you really imagine she'd ever feel comfortable in bed with him after he did that to her? She may know he's no longer the same man, but knowing is one thing, feeling and remembering is a wholly different animal.

Also, there's two sides to this. It's not just about her redeeming him - if he's a real character he'll have to redeem himself, and if he changes enough to recognize how wrong what he did to her was he may well be too ashamed to ever touch her again.

[CBR JGWRR]

They are good points; I just saw something without fully thinking it through, and while Erriene could come to such a point as to forgive him that much, he couldn't do the same - it wouldn't just be what he did to her, but everything that went on within the Thalmor; just look at other ex-Dominion elves in Skyrim, like Runil, who thirty years on still hasn't come to terms with what he did during the war, and for a recovered Rulindil it would be impossible to forgive himself for what he did...

[Finn Wolfshorn]

I still think Erriene winning Rulindil over and teaming up with him could make a great story if done right. As a writer friend of mine once said, if you bring a male and a female character together there's more than one direction it can go. Romance is overrated.

I honestly can't imagine food being thrown away in an agricultural society like Skyrim's unless it's spoilt. "Oi, Kleppr! That milk-drinking elf too prissy to eat a good mammoth steak? Never mind, pass it over to me!" Our hangups about hygienics wouldn't bother them - just look at their toilets.

That said, I see your point and why you'd have her act like you described. Marilyn's having to make compromises in the opposite direction - using bows made of wood rather than bone or antler and chopping wood for a living, to say nothing of having to make herself a new bow every other day or so because they tend to get broken in combat (a Requiem feature). Also alchemy - limiting her choice of ingredients to mushrooms and animal parts would just be paralysing at low levels. She does observe the Meat Mandate but will eat veg food if it's the only way to save her life - I have an unfinished story lying around where she gobbles down a whole bush of snowberries to fend off hypothermia and Yffre's wrath manifests itself in giving her diarrhoea . (I know they're theoretically allowed to use plant matter that doesn't originate in Valenwood, but while that may be canon it feels like a copout to me.)

Back to Erriene, the only problem I see with her right now is that she's in danger of becoming too saintly to be believable. Doesn't she have a flaw or two?

Also, I'm curious what face you've given her. We can haz pics?

[CBR JGWRR]

That is a far more reasonable direction to go in, more realistic.

And Erriene would see that lack of hygiene is precisely why disease is so prevalent. While the developers REALLY dropped this for the later games, Daggerfall had only one disease that wasn't fatal; it was still a daily drop in health. The other 15 were fatal. That is probably closer to the truth than the more disease free Skyrim where they are mostly irrelevant. Plus, our own world has millions of people whose lives are in danger because of what is fundamentally bad hygiene - simply washing hands is a proven life saving measure, but for various reasons it isn't done...

Definitely agree on it feeling like a copout.

Well, of course she comes across as saintly; to her, she is. I'm writing from how she sees things, and she lacks the capacity to see herself as anything other than good. Why would she see her flaws? Case in point, that rhetorical question she would answer, then get annoyed because someone asked her a question without wanting an answer.

She certainly has not advanced as far as I have; I've gotten so used to non-literal expressions I actually use them without thinking about them. I don't understand them, but I've heard people say them when expressing what I want to say, so, I use them. In writing though, I do correct myself and use the correct literalism.

I can do some tact; Erriene has none. She has no facial expressions, she doesn't do any sort of small talk, she refuses to make eye contact because to her it communicates hatred and not whatever it communicates, I only do it because people expect you to do it and a much younger me started doing it to avoid being told off for refusing to do it...


http://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/f ... =604484023 - I preferred the first version of her, she looked nicer somehow; she had the right smudging effect of her eyeliner I wanted, the new her doesn't (as part of her fine motor deficiency, not able to line her eyes properly)

[Finn Wolfshorn]

And Erriene would see that lack of hygiene is precisely why disease is so prevalent. While the developers REALLY dropped this for the later games, Daggerfall had only one disease that wasn't fatal; it was still a daily drop in health. The other 15 were fatal. That is probably closer to the truth than the more disease free Skyrim where they are mostly irrelevant. Plus, our own world has millions of people whose lives are in danger because of what is fundamentally bad hygiene - simply washing hands is a proven life saving measure, but for various reasons it isn't done...

All true, of course, BUT... It's hard to decide, because Tamriel is neither really medieval nor really modern, but these people live in a society where food isn't bought in the supermarket, where the distance between producer and consumer is much shorter than in our (modern western urban) world. Everybody probably has friends or family on a farm somewhere and an idea how much labour goes into planting and harvesting crops. Most people will have seen animals being butchered, many more than once. Throwing away fresh, untouched food just because somebody may have breathed on it would seem like offensive wastefulness to them. (It certainly does to me.)

But then of course Erriene is an Altmer, so it makes sense she'd be more civilized and scientifically educated than the rustic folk of Skyrim.

picture

I like her! She has a look of kindness born from suffering about her, but also a stern 'no nonsense'-attitude in her thin-lipped mouth and almost geometric hairline, and something fierce smoldering in her eyes. Fits your description of her character.

You wouldn't happen to know anything about Bosmeri burial customs under the Green Pact, would you? Do they eat all their dead or just their enemies?

[CBR JGWRR]

As far as I'm aware, just enemies; I've done some looking around, and I haven't found an answer yet as to what they do with their normal dead.

If you say so; I can just about detect a meaning in her eyes, and I don't know what it is...

Umm, you've lost me, could you run the link by me again? I started by saying how she wouldn't throw meat containing food away, and I've lost track of your thought process...

[Finn Wolfshorn]

As far as I'm aware, just enemies; I've done some looking around, and I haven't found an answer yet as to what they do with their normal dead.

Me neither... I've found a source from ESO saying they bury the bones of their loved ones in the shadow of the Barrowbough, but that leaves a lot of wriggling space as to what they do with the rest of the bodies.

Umm, you've lost me, could you run the link by me again? I started by saying how she wouldn't throw meat containing food away, and I've lost track of your thought process...

I agree I could have made my thoughts a little clearer. What I really meant was:
1. I don't think people in Skyrim would care enough about hygiene to consider throwing away a rejected meal (because reasons).
2. But Erriene being an Altmer and Altmer being more civilized, she could be used to stricter standards of hygiene; therefore it makes sense that she wouldn't reject a meat meal lest it be thrown away, as you said (even though I don't think it would).
OK?

[CBR JGWRR]

As far as I'm aware, just enemies; I've done some looking around, and I haven't found an answer yet as to what they do with their normal dead.

Me neither... I've found a source from ESO saying they bury the bones of their loved ones in the shadow of the Barrowbough, but that leaves a lot of wriggling space as to what they do with the rest of the bodies.

Umm, you've lost me, could you run the link by me again? I started by saying how she wouldn't throw meat containing food away, and I've lost track of your thought process...

I agree I could have made my thoughts a little clearer. What I really meant was:
1. I don't think people in Skyrim would care enough about hygiene to consider throwing away a rejected meal (because reasons).
2. But Erriene being an Altmer and Altmer being more civilized, she could be used to stricter standards of hygiene; therefore it makes sense that she wouldn't reject a meat meal lest it be thrown away, as you said (even though I don't think it would).
OK?

... What are you thinking of?

1. Pretty much.
2. Well, for Erriene, it stems from the fact she doesn't want to eat friends, and she sees animal life on the same level as people; and she doesn't want to eat people. Therefore, she doesn't eat meat normally, but, I was outlining a situation where she would bend that principle to keep in the higher principle of respecting life.

The hygiene part is she's noticed clean people are ill less...

[Finn Wolfshorn]

... What are you thinking of?

Well, I was thinking the dead might be ritually consumed by the clan in a communal meal, and the bones buried afterwards. But the thing is, Marilyn grew up among Imperials and has never been to Valenwood, and it's likely she never witnessed an authentic Green Pact burial, so she wouldn't necessarily know any more than I do, and I can pass off anything I make up as her speculation.

Well, for Erriene, it stems from the fact she doesn't want to eat friends, and she sees animal life on the same level as people; and she doesn't want to eat people. Therefore, she doesn't eat meat normally, but, I was outlining a situation where she would bend that principle to keep in the higher principle of respecting life.

Yes, I understand all that. I was just suggesting that this situation might not be likely to actually occur in Skyrim (but maybe more likely where Erriene comes from).

Anyway... "the higher principle of respecting life" is something I see in the Meat Mandate as well, at least the way I interpret it: if you kill, you owe it to the killed creature not to let its body go to waste. It's kind of ironic that Marilyn, who has little respect for life and blithely kills both animals and people, follows this custom because it's the way she's been taught things are done, as if it would justify her crimes in any way...

[Dohva.]

I've started playing Skyrim again. Man, it feels like coming home indeed. I realized that Lieth the Bosmer hasn't ever finished Dawnguard and the Dragonborn dlc is somewhat of a mystery to me...so loaded up her game and she was with Serana rescuing the Moth Priest. It's been so long since I've played that Lieth had some difficulty using her bow. Let's blame that on her missing Vilkas, shall we?

[Finn Wolfshorn]

A Bosmer having difficulty to use a bow? Oh man, she must be missing him real hard!

I've been rather distracted from Skyrim myself recently, thanks to a friend who sung me the praises of Sunless Sea and it being free to try on Steam last weekend, which led to a no-brainer purchase. I also have a number of unfinished stories lying around, one of them inspired by recent gameplay events... I think I'll try to finish that one over the weekend, it won't be very long.

[Dohva.]

It's terrible, really. Lieth hit up Robber's Gorge (or whatever it's called) and died twice.

I...like, never die in Skyrim. This means I need to practice more so she dies less lol. She also couldn't remember which house her family was at. Eventually, she found them at Lakeside Manor. Vilkas was nude out in the yard (wtf huh) while the kids were inside with Meeko all alone. I forgot that the housecarl and Ria were killed by bandits ages ago and that's why they had moved out. So now they're in Whiterun again. Geesh. I need to get it together.

Finn, are those stories Skyrim ones? Will you be sharing them here?

[Finn Wolfshorn]

Sure, it's all Skyrim stuff. Marilyn stuff, to be precise. I totally neglected her while I was writing for that Dark Brotherhood mod, there's a lot of catching up to do. (That didn't keep me from throwing my hat in the ring to write for Requiem; they ended up picking two other guys but said they might call me back in the future if in need of more writers. Let's see what comes of that.)

Dying in Skyrim... I recently did a complete reinstall in preparation for another playthrough, updating or switching mods etc., in the course of which I played about half an hour of pure vanilla for the first time in years and crawled through the whole of Shriekwind Bastion with a board & sword Orc and roflstomped everything until I was obliterated by that vampire mage in the room close to the top. That's vanilla difficulty for you, unbalanced either for or against the player, and getting harder the more you advance, which flies in the face of the very idea of progress.

Why shouldn't Vilkas be nude in the yard of his own home? It's not like there are any neighbours around who are likely to take offence, and after all he's a Nord, hardy against the cold. Nor should that bother Lieth, who, if my memory serves me well, has been caught naked in public herself on occasion. (Kidding aside, I suspect it's an AFT thing. All followers have these flashes of nudity if you've managed their outfit with AFT and then revisit them some time after telling them to stay put. It's like the game takes a moment or two to remember what they're supposed to be wearing.)

[Dohva.]

It's definitely AFT's fault. Oh, well. At least he looks good naked.

Having taken a break from Skyrim has been actually good for me. I played for an hour last night, choosing it over Fallout 4 which is huge lol. I loaded up Felina's game and had a great time sitting her on an island in Lake Illinalta, watching Onmund fight 4 trolls by himself on the shore. They're both still pretty low level, 16 I think, so trolls are deadly still. Anyway, good times.

It seems like everyone here takes breaks from Skyrim...except maybe you, Finn, lol. Honestly, it's like my favorite game of all time next to Pacman and Zelda, so I'll always come home.

[Finn Wolfshorn]

It seems like everyone here takes breaks from Skyrim...except maybe you, Finn, lol.

Even me, lol! Skyrim is still on my mind, but Sunless Sea is largely keeping me from actually playing it... or writing about it ( at self). (S.S. is quite awesome in its own way - totally different style of gameplay, but rich in stories and very well written. I keep telling my way wife about it, and the other day she said, with a resigned sigh: "Well, at least it's a different game for a change." )

[CBR JGWRR]

... What are you thinking of?

Well, I was thinking the dead might be ritually consumed by the clan in a communal meal, and the bones buried afterwards. But the thing is, Marilyn grew up among Imperials and has never been to Valenwood, and it's likely she never witnessed an authentic Green Pact burial, so she wouldn't necessarily know any more than I do, and I can pass off anything I make up as her speculation.

Well, for Erriene, it stems from the fact she doesn't want to eat friends, and she sees animal life on the same level as people; and she doesn't want to eat people. Therefore, she doesn't eat meat normally, but, I was outlining a situation where she would bend that principle to keep in the higher principle of respecting life.

Yes, I understand all that. I was just suggesting that this situation might not be likely to actually occur in Skyrim (but maybe more likely where Erriene comes from).

Anyway... "the higher principle of respecting life" is something I see in the Meat Mandate as well, at least the way I interpret it: if you kill, you owe it to the killed creature not to let its body go to waste. It's kind of ironic that Marilyn, who has little respect for life and blithely kills both animals and people, follows this custom because it's the way she's been taught things are done, as if it would justify her crimes in any way...

Yeah, she'd see the link in the meat mandate the same way. I doubt there is any difference in culinary taste between Altmer and whoever except being self-perceived as more "refined and cultured".

One of the things with TES lore is that it is fairly malleable like that, at least it is intended to be.

[Finn Wolfshorn]

So here's the little story I promised you above, about the aftermath of a radiant game event:

Black Arrows

Hidden:

Marilyn couldn't believe Faendal was dead.

They had only known each other for a few weeks and hadn't been close friends, but it had warmed her heart to meet a fellow Bosmer in this cold and hostile country, and she suspected he had felt the same, although neither of them had acknowledged their fondness of the other. A nod, a smile as they passed each other in the street or chopped wood side by side at the lumbermill, that was the extent of their displays of affection. Sometimes they had met when their day's work was done and practised their marksmanship in a little shooting contest. Occasionally Faendal had put a hand on her hip or elbow to correct her stance in a manner both friendly and detached, and she had been fine with his touch, knowing his heart belonged to Camilla Valerius.

But now he lay dead in a puddle of drying blood in the street between Sven's house and the blacksmith's workshop, his face smashed in by a mace, and Camilla strode up to Marilyn, eyes hot with tears and rage, shaking her fist and yelling: "This is all your fault! Those mercenaries were after you, not him. Divines know what you've done to bring them upon you. We could have been happy, Faendal and I, if not for you! I wish you'd never come to Riverwood!"

Helpless and speechless, Marilyn watched her being led away by her brother Lucan and comforted by Sven the bard - Sven, who had once vied with Faendal for Camilla's love, standing by to take his dead rival's place before the corpse was buried.

She felt the reassuring weight of Gorr's broad, brown hand on her shoulder. "What she said wasn't right, friend." The huge Redguard's booming voice could sound amazingly soft in moments like this. "It wasn't fair."

Marilyn smiled at him over her shoulder and squeezed his hand in gratitude; without his help she would lie next to Faendal, as cold and dead as he. However, she couldn't deny the truth in Camilla's accusation. Faendal would still be alive if she had never set foot into Riverwood. Or if she hadn't helped herself to those steel ingots lying around in the smithy without paying.

When she had stepped out of the Sleeping Giant and found three armoured thugs walking up to her she had run - run for her life, run to gain distance for a bowshot, trusting Gorr to handle himself in melee, but also run to draw them out of town, to avoid getting bystanders hurt; but even as she had turned to run she had seen Faendal step into the street from the wooden bridge that led to the lumbermill, take in the situation with a single glance, drop the load of firewood he had been carrying and draw his bow to assist her.

The main fight had been fought outside the village, across the bridge straddling the White River, her and Gorr killing one of the thugs each. The third, whom they had finished together, had taken longer to come after her. Apparently he had taken the time to kill the other bothersome wood-elf before.

Sitting on the boardwalk outside the Riverwood Trader, head hung and hands between her knees, she relived the walk back to the village after looting the corpses. Commotion in the street, people running, gathering around a body prostrate on the cobblestones. Dreadful anticipation, then truth closing around her heart like a dead hand as the Trader's door flew open and Camilla threw herself on the body, wailing with heartbreak.

A horse-drawn cart pulled up in the street, Hod the lumber-miller on the box, and Marilyn watched as the men of the village lifted Faendal's shrouded body onto the cart. They were going to take him to Whiterun to be embalmed and blessed by a priest of Arkay and laid to rest in the Hall of the Dead like all people of the hold.

She heard footsteps on the boardwalk and Gerdur's voice next to her: "This is what he would have wished. I don't know your customs in Valenwood, but he lived among us all these years, he would have wanted to lie among us in death."

In this Marilyn couldn't gainsay her. Apart from Camilla and her brother, the mill owner and her husband had been the closest thing to a family Faendal had in Riverwood, having worked next to him at the mill for years, and Mari herself knew little more about Bosmeri burial customs than Gerdur. She wasn't even sure to what extent Faendal had followed the Green Pact, if at all. Would he have wanted her to consume his body? An impossible task, unless she were to cut him into strips and smoke or dry his flesh into jerky - which she was sure these Nords would never have countenanced. Still, she couldn't help feeling he would have preferred being buried in the woods where he'd been wont to hunt to being immured in a stone building in a city of stone, waiting to be joined by the man who had got him killed.

She raised her head and stared across the street at Alvor. The blacksmith had watched Faendal being laid on the wagon from the porch outside his workshop. When he felt Marilyn's gaze on his face he shot a glowering look at her, then quickly retreated and busied himself at the forge. Mother's voice filled her mind with daydreams of blood and slaughter.

"Marilyn?"

She turned her head. Gerdur was still standing there, accompanied by one of the Jarl's men, holding a written parchment and a small but heavy leather bag.

"It turns out he mentioned you in his will. To my compatriot Marilyn, known to the citizens of Riverwood, I leave the sum of two hundred septims in gratitude for her tact in handling bardic letters. There are also several items in my house which she may find useful. Let her take what she thinks appropriate."

That came as a surprise. True, she had helped Faendal to outsmart his rival Sven and win Camilla's love, but he had recompensed her for that little service while still alive. She had never dreamed that he would be so generous as to leave her money in his will. Her eyes moistened.

"As usual," Gerdur continued, "I have subtracted a tax of ten percent for the Jarl. The rest of the sum is yours." She handed Mari the bag, along with an iron key of simple, rustic design. "Please return the key to me after taking your pick. I'll pass it on to Camilla who inherits the house. I don't think she would want to see you now, and you may not be too keen on facing her either."

Marilyn tied the bag to her belt and nodded thanks to Gerdur. The mill owner's eyes rested on her for a long time, and when Gerdur spoke again the words came slowly in that heavy Nord accent, as if carved from stubborn stone.

"I know nothing of your past, Marilyn, nor who sent those thugs to kill you or why. I've known you as a fine, hard worker at the mill, and it speaks well of you that Faendal took a liking to you. But maybe it would be for the best if you left Riverwood for a while and took a long time coming back."

Faendal's corpse being secured on the cart, Hod cracked his whip and the horses fell into a slow trot. The men and women of Riverwood watched the hearse pass under the village gate, hands raised in a last farewell to their elven neighbour, then slowly dispersed as it crossed the bridge and turned north-west for Whiterun. The Jarl's guards went to find and bury the dead hirelings.

"I think she's right, friend," said Gorr. "We should move on." He slapped Marilyn's shoulder, meaning to cheer her up but nearly knocking her off the boardwalk. "Let's flip a bandit and go where the head points on landing, shall we?"

Marilyn couldn't help but smile. Even when it grated against her own mood Gorr's irrepressible rough humour was a solace to her.

"Yeah, let's do that," she said, standing up. "Just give me half an hour or so to look into Faendal's house."

"Sure. I'll be at the Giant when you're done."


Faendal's house, tucked away under a group of firs at the edge of the village and surrounded by a little garden full of wild flowers, was built in the typical log-and-plank style of Nordic farmhouses, its thatched roof shadowing a porch where firewood was piled up against the winter. Small compared to its neighbour buildings, but cosy-looking.

Marilyn turned the key and stepped inside. The single room was dim, as the small square windows admitted little daylight, but the embers in the fireplace were still glowing; once she had stoked the fire she lit a few goathorn candlesticks and a soft golden light spread through the room.

Hunting trophies mounted on the walls, fur rugs on the floor. A bed and end table, a round dining table with two chairs, another table with a bench, two cupboards, two chests. Books and bottles, dishes, potions and pelts, utensils and weapons, arranged in the seeming disorder characteristic of a lived-in space whose owner left it only hours ago, meaning to return soon.

But now he never would.

Marilyn rummaged through the chests and cupboards, and a small amount of coins went into her belt pouch. In a drawer she found two spare candles which she threw into a cast iron pot and heated in the fire. While the wax was melting she examined Faendal's bookshelf. Pension of the Ancestor Moth, Ode to the Tundra Striders, Scourge of the Grey Quarter: Faendal, it appeared, had been a widely read mer whose curiosity extended far beyond required reading for hunters like Herbane's Bestiary, a copy of which lay on the end table by his bed.

The food on his kitchen table was another surprise: next to several wheels of cheese and a slice of seared slaughterfish lay carrots, leeks, potatoes and two loaves of bread. Faendal had strayed even further from the way of their people than she had suspected, and for a moment she doubted whether she had ever truly known him. This house could have been anybody's.

In life he had been a brother Bosmer to her; death turned him into a stranger.

Her gaze wandered across the weapons laid out handily on another table. A sword, shield and helmet made her wonder whether Faendal's past had been more warlike than she had given him credit for. He was old enough to have fought in the Great War, like her father. On which side had he stood then?

There was also a spare hunting bow and a quiver of arrows -

She caught her breath, then let it out in a soft whistle. A quiver of black leather embroidered with silver thread, filled with ten sleek, black arrows tipped with spiralling barbs of glinting black metal.

Ebony. The black volcanic gold of Morrowind. He had left her ten bloody ebony arrows. Her eyes filled with tears even as a broad grin spread across her face. Faendal, wherever you are now, thank you!

They were worth a small fortune, but she would never sell them. Ebony arrows were every archer's wet dream - hard enough to punch through any armour, and their winding heads went through flesh and bone like drills. Arrows like these would pierce the tough hide of mammoths and giants, maybe even the scales of a dragon.

Or the heart of a less lofty quarry.

Marilyn drew a chair up to the fireplace and sat down. The wax in the iron pot was completely liquid now. She removed the pot from the fire and dipped the key she had received from Gerdur into the molten wax, then set it aside for the mould to cool down. It never hurt to have a spare key to somebody else's house, preferably without them knowing about it; especially if the new owner was next of kin to a merchant.

She drew a single arrow from the quiver and, looking down its perfectly straight black shaft with one eye closed, imagined setting sights on her prey with it nocked to her bowstring. Then she placed it across her knees, reached into the bosom of her fur armour and produced the crumpled contract she had found in the pouch of the thugs' leader. She smoothed the paper on her thigh and reread the words she had only skimmed until now:

Here is the amount we agreed on. I trust you to faithfully carry out my request to teach a lesson to the thief Marilyn. You need not kill Marilyn, but I have no qualms about it if you deem it necessary.

The letters were cramped and crude, drawn rather than written by a hand better suited to wielding a hammer than a pen. The signature was clearly legible: Alvor.

Kill him, Mother whispered in her head. Kill the blacksmith. Shoot him dead.

Marilyn wrapped the paper tight around the shaft, then put the arrow back into the quiver. Mother smiled.

[The SheoDovah]

I'm in the mood to revisit Skyrim and the new God of War game put me into the mood. I know i keep saying i'll return then forgetting but last time, erm... i was in a bad place.

Anyway, kinda got an idea for a character. A battlemage. Well, i say battlemage. More of a warrior that uses magic. Probably Restoration, Destruction on humanoids and dragons and Conjuration. Dislike the AI as it's usually "GODDAMNIT! YOU JUST GOT IN MY FOOKING WAY! YOU IDIOT! NOW I HAVE TO RELOAD THE GAME! THANKS!" or "Really? You're focusing on the whelps!? THE WHELPS!? WHY!? YOU LITTLE DUMB MILKER!" Ok, maybe not that but the AI is kinda bad when it decides to not want to do it's job.

Two handed sword or axe for the melee. Probably use a bow for hunting.

[VirtualWeasel]

I've begun replaying Morrowind in the last month, and I must say, I've fallen deep down the roleplaying hole once again, as I often do with Morrowind.

My main concept with this go-around of Morrowind was that Rianor, a Dunmer rogue, would be a bit of an "old Dunmer" faithful from the get-go, in that he spent most of his obscured background in the lands outside of Morrowind studying old Daedra and ancestor worship. I never wanted to have a character that really scorned the Tribunal like the Dissident Priests, so what I ended up with throughout the main quest was a character whose loyalties were conflicting—obviously going back and forth between respecting the divinity of the Tribunal, to the murkiness of the Nerevarine Cult, to the new Temple following the death of Dagoth Ur.

Something interesting happened where Rianor turned into a sort of "secular" Dunmer faithful. I would often find myself setting up small shrine or meditative areas along the unnamed island northwest of Khuul (which I haven't ever taken to giving a name, though the island's reference in the old Morrowind game guide's index was "All it lacks is ginger..."), consisting of books, a candle or lantern, and some ceremonial tools like ancient silver daggers, soul gems, staffs, etc.
I even ended up placing some odd "protective" totems on the cardinal directions of the island relating to the Dunmer mythos—Ordinator helmets, Daedric Faces, House-specific helms, all surrounded by jewels and other precious objects.

Most of the books in those meditative spots were the Sermons of Vivec or books like Sithis. It ended up becoming something like this character was trying to find the meaning behind the words of the Tribunal, the original intentions behind the words of Vivec, as opposed to the face-value egostroking that come from it.

I guess the TL;DR of it is that I ended up with a really odd character who's sort of a religious pilgrim, gaining spiritual value from a rejection of any Dunmer dogma, instead focusing on the teachings of the many, individual prophets of the Dunmer people. It's rare that I find inner character values like this in a game setting, especially when they're so unrelated to combat, quests, and the greater direction of the questlines. The ultimate effect of this has made me really avoid the Great Houses altogether, because each has such an equally dogmatic agenda, while focusing more on the main quest and now the Temple, in an attempt to reconstruct the pieces of Dunmer society to be more like what Veloth may have originally preached, while stepping into a more progressive mindset, unlike the Veloth faithfuls of the Ashlanders who have, by now, likely twisted the Saint's words to fit their victimized narrative.

[Finn Wolfshorn]

It's alive! Just when I expected to see this thread drop off the page any day now. Great to see you here!

Sheo: yeah, Skyrim's summons AI is a bit idiotic at times. I don't remember how many times I've been killed by a Flame Atronach returning triumphant from incinerating a bunch of draugr only to explode in my face when the summons ran out. The dangers of trafficking with Daedra... In my experience the best way of getting summons to stay out of your way is staying out of their way - let them charge ahead and support them with destruction from the rear. Worked quite well for me.

Weasel: I like conflicted characters, and your Dunmer seems well thought through. Totally believable path for a Nerevarine, I'd say. I love the idea with the shrines, awesome roleplay!

Nothing new from me, I'm afraid. I still dabble in Skyrim a bit every now & then with Yet Another Marilyn but haven't been inspired to make another character in a while. Mainly I'm still playing Sunless Sea (and it's parent game, Fallen London), which is pretty addictive; I roleplay my captain characters to some degree and sometimes write ministories about their pursuits to share on Facebook with those of my friends who also play it. And I've started to write the beginning of something I'm too superstitious to call a novel, set in a world of my own invention but featuring a protagonist who is basically another Marilyn.

In other words, waiting for TES VI (yes, I know, it's going to be a while).

[IcarusBen]

I figured this would be the best place to post my idea for a Morrowind character.

---

Omar ibn la'Qassim (with his full title being Sidi Omar ibn la'Qassim al-Sehntnal, Maharib Alghani min Alttajir Niqabat Sehntnal [Or, translated, Sir Omar, son of Qassim, born of Sentinel, "rich warrior" of the Merchant Guild of Sentinel]) is a Redguard trader and knight based out of the city of Sentinel on the Illiac Bay. As a "maharib alghani" (often shortened to "maharib,") Omar is well versed in both the art of war and the art of commerce.

Born to the "Syd Alnnaqaba" (or Guildmaster [as opposed to a Sydda Alnnaqaba, or Guildmistress]) of the Merchant Guild of Sentinel in 3E 399 and a Maharib, Omar spent much of his early years working with his mother in the Grand Bazaar, either training in the art of swordfighting or developing the skills needed to be a successful trader. His father was often too busy working to see his son, but what time they did have was remembered fondly by the both of them.

At age 16, Omar himself joined the Guild, becoming a "mubtadi alssuq" ("market novice.") As a mubtadi, Omar was given a small stall in Sentinel's Grand Bazaar to manage and defend against thieves. His stall was nothing exceptional, selling mostly trinkets and jewelry, but that year, Uriel Septim VII visited Sentinel, and by chance met with Omar. Omar's skill in dealing with a customer of such high class earned him a promotion to "khirrij alssuq" ("market graduate.") He soon rose through the ranks, from "sayadi alssuq" (market lord,) to "mubtadi maharib" (novice warrior) and finally to a proper Maharib at age 27.

A maharib alghani, among other duties, is in charge of managing Merchant Guild trade within a specific district. In Omar's case, he was granted the district of Vvardenfell and was tasked with establishing a Guild presence on the island. In 3E 427, Omar set off for Vvardenfell. Things would have gone perfectly fine, had the inexperienced Omar decided to go by carriage and not sail through the Sea of Ghosts in a rinky-dinky ship with a crew used to the calm waters of the Illiac. A storm attacked the ship, causing it to capsize. Some of the crew survived and were rescued by a Nord fishing vessel, reporting the death of everyone else onboard. Omar, however, took a different lifeboat and washed ashore on the western coast of Vvardenfell.

Now presumed dead, Omar has decided that now is his chance to finally strike it rich. Now was the day of Omar ibn la'Qassim.

---

Here comes the hard part. I'm trying to decide what factions to join. While he is a merchant by trade, he's also a warrior, leading to me being torn between House Hlaalu and House Redoran. He'll probably also join the Fighter's Guild and Imperial Legion, again, because he's a warrior.

Are there any mods (compatible with Morrowind Rebirth and Tamriel Rebuilt) that add a faction that would be good for those who want to be merchants and warriors at the same time, or is Omar kinda screwed in the faction department?

[The SheoDovah]

Just started on notes for my character.

He shall be Thoric of Bloodgate. More will be revealed during the first few tales. However, there will be two versions. Thoric in the tales(due to limitations in the game) and Game Thoric(which, I'll probably discuss at random and may use in game exploits as stories).

I do intend to roleplay. Eating, drinking must be once a day due to time going fast and timing it so three meals a day is too much hassle. Drinking, I'll headcannon that he has a flask. Will try to stick to a no more then a few swords and bits and babbles loot rule. E.g. A greatsword can only be looted once and is on his back.

Game Thoric may be a two handed warrior that uses magic. Tale Thoric will not. Mainly for balancing reasons and well, the last time I played a pure melee character, it ended up with a lot of death. But I may do pure melee again and try to have an ample supply of potions. However, I do hate the instant death kill cams that can trigger. :-/ Probably be 50/50 levelling for health and stamina.

[Finn Wolfshorn]

Welcome to the thread, IcarusBen! (I'm beginning to think we should subtitle this 'The Lazarus Thread' - whenever I think it's dead for good this time somebody brings it to back to life). That's a very interesting character backstory! I'm intrigued by all those Arabic-looking Redguard names - did you make them up, or do you actually speak Arabic?

Are you going to play through the main quest at all (i.e. will Omar be the Nerevarine?), or just sticking to merchant-warriory pursuits? As to the question of Dunmer Houses, Redoran somehow feels more Redguardy to me than Hlaalu for no reason I can put into words, and there are lots of merchants in Ald'ruhn.

I'm sorry I can't give any modding advice for Morrowind - back when I played it I had no idea mods even were a thing, and I haven't replayed it since.

Sheo, I'm looking forward to learning more about Thoric!

As for myself, I've begun playing a bit of good ol' Oblivion every now and then and made a Redguard scout by name of Amin. His backstory is somewhat sketchy, but I think he's a former Alik'r scout who went to join the Dark Brotherhood (of course!). After tracking his last target (*pulls idea out of IcarusBen's hat*: a travelling merchant! ) to Imperial City he was caught on the job and sentenced to imprisonment for life in the Imperial City prison, where he spent about twenty years until Uriel and the Blades came along. At the beginning of the game he's in his late fourties and a bit at a loss what to do with his newly-won freedom, but eventually he will seek out the Brotherhood and rehabilitate himself.

[IcarusBen]

Welcome to the thread, IcarusBen! (I'm beginning to think we should subtitle this 'The Lazarus Thread' - whenever I think it's dead for good this time somebody brings it to back to life). That's a very interesting character backstory! I'm intrigued by all those Arabic-looking Redguard names - did you make them up, or do you actually speak Arabic?

Are you going to play through the main quest at all (i.e. will Omar be the Nerevarine?), or just sticking to merchant-warriory pursuits? As to the question of Dunmer Houses, Redoran somehow feels more Redguardy to me than Hlaalu for no reason I can put into words, and there are lots of merchants in Ald'ruhn.

I'm sorry I can't give any modding advice for Morrowind - back when I played it I had no idea mods even were a thing, and I haven't replayed it since.

I don't speak Arabic (I have enough trouble learning other languages in the same family as English [I think I'm condemned to be a one-language man] so Arabic is just... no) but thankfully, Google Translate turned up some interesting names.

Omar is going to be Nerevarine, though I'm holding off on the main quest. I've already done the Legion and Raven Rock/Falco questlines (turns out, it's possible to beat the final boss of the Legion questline at level 2... after eighteen tries...) I'm planning on doing the Redoran and Fighter's Guild questlines next, then start up with the main quest. Actually, I might consider doing the backpath, but I'm not keen on losing 200 health permanently. I'm also planning on avoiding becoming either a werewolf or a vampire.