Skyrim- Memoirs of a HousecarlIt was, once again, two in the morning when he came stumbling in through the door of Breezehome. He had a glowing sword on his hip and was clothed in strange, evil-looking armor. A quiver of Ebony arrows was askew on his back, and he was muttering about draugr and hands and nightingales.Skyrim- Memoirs of a Housecarl3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Believe it or not, I am used to this. “Hello, my love,” I said. “Back from some adventure, I bet.”
He continued to mutter, a bit dazedly, while he began unloading several new weapons onto the rack on the wall. Most of them were also glowing. Then he crossed over to the fire and sat down very tiredly, the wooden chair creaking and settling under him. He stared into the fire for a minute, before finally looking at me.
“Lydia,” he said, “Would you mind cooking something for me?”
“Here,” I replied, ladling a bowl of stew from the ever-present pot on the fire (as a housecarl, you have to be prepared for your Thane to come in at any moment). “
TES-Skyrim: The Dragon's Bane C02A/N: Yes, Ulfric in game says he is the only son, but the sake of my fiction he had an older brother. I won’t be going to much about this older brother, just someone who is mentioned and was a catalyst for Mira’s life. The brother is long gone, hence Ulfric is now the only son.TES-Skyrim: The Dragon's Bane C024 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
TES: Skyrim – The Dragon’s Bane
One step toward destiny
When she returned to came, Mira took note that Ulfric had already left, leaving Ralof to wait for her. Mira was a little disappointed that he gone without saying goodbye but concluded that maybe Ulfric was needed back at Windhelm as soon as possible. He was a wanted man and it was best to stay a few steps ahead of the Imperials.
“Are you ready?” Ralof asked.
“Ulfric wanted me to tell you that he is glad you are home and that you are welcome at his table anytime. Um, he mentioned something that if you were inclined, he still has your old rooms available.”
I Fear the NightIn a wooded glen, much like any other one might find in Tamriel, a little Breton girl hummed to herself as she gathered firewood. It was early in the month of Sun’s Dusk, and the days were starting to grow colder as autumn slowly gave way to winter. The girl could feel the chill in the air as a gentle breeze swept by her, stirring up the dead leaves that crackled beneath her feet as she walked. Towering trees with naked branches loomed all around her, seeming almost to reach out for her as their shadows lengthened against the setting sun. All the familiar sounds of the forest, from the gentle birdsong to the chirping of insects, seemed to grow still. The woods were going to sleep, it seemed, and it was time for all good little girls to be asleep as well.I Fear the Night1 year ago in Horror More Like This
The girl stopped humming when she looked up to observe the oncoming dusk. The hour was later than she’d thought. Silently, she scolded herself for allowing the time to get away from her. At ten years old, this was her first
An Orphan's Tale 10: PilgrimageAn Orphan's Tale 10: Pilgrimage3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Lydia came back a few minutes after Vilkas had left and knelt by Selene. "By the eight, what happened?"
"Lydia, could you take some fresh water up to my room for me?"
"Did Vilkas do that to your face?"
"I really don't want to talk about it."
"As you wish, my Thane."
When Lydia came back with water, Selene went upstairs, undressed and washed up. Her left eye throbbed and her vision was fuzzy, and when she looked in the mirror she saw that it was swelling shut and a terrible bruise was forming on her cheek. Vilkas had hit her hardin more ways than one. She put on a clean dress and lay on the bed, trying to blot out the day's events, but they bombarded her mind relentlessly. The Silver Hand had attacked and taken the fragments. Kodlak was dead. Vilkas had struck her.
Vilkas had struck her.
She'd been hit by guys before. She was a warrior, for Kyne's sake; she fought all the time. But this was different. It wasn't some bandit or a thug in a bar picking a fight; it was Vilkas.
The UnchildBabette sniffed softly as she worked on a new potion, her concentration slightly disturbed as that fool Cicero cackled loudly and started talking nonsense to the Night Mother. Oh how that fool felt himself important since Silimari let him live. The vampire snorted, shaking her head as she bent back over to her potion. What a sad fool he was.The Unchild4 years ago in Drama More Like This
The child-woman knew that truth. Sili, that's what Babette had taken to calling the Khajiit, had left the Jester alive in order to keep the peace. Between the four of them, only one knew how to take care of their Mother properly, and as the Listener Sili couldn't let anything happen to her. It must be so different for Sili who could hear their Mother, who knew that the Unholy Matron cared for the Family like they did. The others only knew the words through Sili, so their connection to their Mother was less.
Nazir believed that Cicero was left alive due to Astrid's downward spiral into madness. The Redguard was simply waiting for the word, he would
A Winter Tale.A Winter Tale.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had taken her years to work up the courage to visit London in any physical sense, despite her obvious obsession with it in her mind for the past nine years, and while the admittedly neurotic petite blond woman was nervous and out of sorts amid the tall once-familiar buildings and fireless streets, she also felt relieved, as though she were coming home from a personal war.
The journey wasn't a fruitless one, and she was damned sure too timid to just venture up on her own. Mina, who had religiously been practicing ballet for years, finally earned a role in the performance of the Sadler Wells Theatre's token Christmas performance--The Nutcracker. The slender but athletic child had scoffed at the idea of being cast as a bon-bon for Mother Ginger's dress, and to the chiding of her instructor insisted upon taping her feet and training in pointe shoes. Thanks to her lean frame and light weight, she was successful in her en pointe training, enoug
26. Tears "Coward."26. Tears3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The accusation was spat sharply into the still air.
Not offended, the silence waited.
"Fool. Didn't you see? Couldn't you tell it wouldn't help?" Drip, drip.
The lone figure stood at the foot of the new-turned grave, crying. They had waited until the rest of the mourners had gone, lingered on the outskirts until they could tell this dear deceased how they really felt. In person. Alone. They who never cried.
"You knew it wasn't going to work. You knew that even if you escaped, we'd still be here, still trying to deal with our own jacked-up lives, but without you, now. You knew you'd only cause us all grief and despair. And for what?" Drip, drip. A clenching of teeth and fists. "A miserable little coward that left me all alone."
Cicero's ListenerThe Dread Father would laugh and dance with him before loyal Cicero would let that sly, honey-worded thief take his Listener away from him.Cicero's Listener3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He had honestly liked him at first meeting. Sweet Listener had taken him to Riften, the home of cutthroats and thieves. She had mentioned that the reason behind their visit was a mix of business in pleasure. Listener was the Guildmaster to the thieves, so Cicero understood that she had to talk to Byrnjolf. He ran things while she was gone. Humble, loyal Cicero knew that he was Dark Brotherhood, and not Thieves Guild, so he agreed to leave the two alone to talk Thieves Guild business. Cicero was even agreeable to the fact that Byrnjolf and Listener were friends and had to catch up when it came to their personal lives.
But they weren't lovers.
So Cicero didn't know why it was so necessary for Byrnjolf to silently demand that he be closer to her. At dinner, he sat next to her in Listener's little Honeyside home. Cicero sat across them from, giving sil
A Christmas Poem, by LKIG.((IF YOU DON'T READ THE ARTISTS COMMENTS FIRST I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU))A Christmas Poem, by LKIG.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
'Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all around Deviantfuck
Deviants were doodling, scribbling,
writing, except for one schmuck.
Leon Kennedy, with coffee in hand,
His desk too dirty, his tickbeard too full
When late that night, he got canned,
And so ended the great Leon's troll.
Some say was the Christmas spirit
Snuffing out the heart of the beast
But for whatever reason, his profile disappeared,
and Deviants everywhere sat down to feast.
With a dumbfounded stare and wink of his eye
Leon flew to the ocean underneath the night sky,
He sat there stroking his tickbeard of luck
Deviantart, he muttered, messed with the wrong fuck.
Satan's tongue holds no more poison,
Leon claim's he is god, after all
and for certain no heart is more venomous
as the Tickbeard's, after his downfall.
So while the troll'ed relaxed for the season
and settled in with their cups of cheer
toasting to the demise of the troll,
a horrid laugh
The OwlThe world was a cruel place, and humans were even crueler. No matter who you are, you all strive and struggle to come off as an illusion, or as the good guy. There are the good, the bad and the ugly, majority of it is ugly. Hidden under kindness, hidden over every other emotion. And any other human being, is no exception, to monsters who may stand to reason over the world. The monsters inside, the monsters we are constantly fighting, what's the point?The Owl3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I held on tight to my school books as I walked through the gate, making sure not to loose them in the wind. Bucknear academy, was a boarding school, in the middle of the forest. Surrounding us was a large forest, and beyond that, was a rounded fence, to where none of the students could escape, not even climb, because of the electrical current going through it. Most of the students here, like me, had been sent as a rehab as "bul
Mk. III Cyberhound B955883Mk. III Cyberhound B9558835 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Around Freeside, the battle had died down. As a result of the Securitrons, the Kings, the NCR, and the Locals, the Legion had no chance. The shadow that the King saw earlier was descending, dropping off two very important people at the East Gate; outside the broken doorway, Boone fell to the ground, standing, and caught Andy as she slid from the rope as well. Carrying the wounded woman, the sniper hurried through Freeside, where he almost immediately ran into Nolan McNamara.
"We have ran them away, it is finished," he said in that calm voice, reassuring the sniper.
"You mean there was a battle here? This looks like regular old Freeside to me," Andy said jokingly, still in Boone's arms. She was woozy from lack of blood, and neither Nolan or the man with the red beret laughed at her feeble joke. The bodies of many lay around them. The usually dusty gray streets were literally r
Vulpes one shot.Vulpes one shot.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Decanus lifted his shoulders, cringing behind his mask as the other man fell to the dusty ground, rope around his neck. It wasn't something he'd expected, to see this. He didn't agree with the decision, either. The one who was about to be crucified wasn't fighting his fate, though; he accepted it with the same serene demeanor he always carried. You could call the pair of them similar in the way they spoke, however this was not the case. One was simply aloof, the other...eerily detached.
Now, Aloof watched Eerily Detached as his knees and palms slammed into the dusty soil, breaking his fall and perhaps being the only thing to save his face from hitting the ground instead. The Centurion's whip lashed through the air and struck the man's back, but the Decanus' thick armor didn't allow much of the sting to carry through. The Centurion realized this, for he immediately stepped forward, looming over t
Sign of the Maker part twoSign of the Maker part two5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sign of the Maker Part two
"Hawke, behind you!"
Cortland Hawke turned at the sound of Aveline's shout without hesitation, twin daggers whirling. The fight had been a long and hard one, and he was panting and tired, he knew, but he would not go down like this. Almost automatically his eyes sought out the party's healer as he span, hoping beyond hope that this wouldn't be his last look. Please, Maker, not now.
He needn't have worried.
Before his blades could bite into the flesh of the man behind him, an arrow lodged itself firmly into the forehead of his would-be attacker, sending the last of their current foes crashing to the floor. There was a moment's pause as the party sheathed weapons and brushed dirt from their clothing, Hawke letting out a whistle as he did so.
"That one was pretty close." He turned and looked up at a raised section of the Bonepit mining cavern, where the Prince of Starkhaven stood. "A timely arrival, Sebastian, you have my thanks."
A small head move
Rawlith Kharji "I cannot understand why skooma is so popular " sighed Do'Krin, as he and his master walked past a skooma den, both in hooded robes marked with a large strange symbol on the backs and wrists. Many of the residents lay outside, out of their minds, whispering strange words in their stupor. Others ran around, elated and feeling on top of the world.Rawlith Kharji4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"The feeling, I would assume, look at them, they feel as if they can conquer the world " his instructor replied, pointing to those running about. "The others ecstasy I suppose " he finished, looking at those who lay on the mats and benches outside.
"But it is such a dependency, sir" Do'Krin continued. "It does not seem like a good trade; the more you use it, the better you feel, and the more you feel you need it " he sighed, looking upon the addicts with nothing but pity. "Soon they feel like dying more than they feel their ecstasy " he finished.
"I suppose I cannot answer your inquir
RJTaffyLeonDosolusCollegekidThe Day the FONV Canon Characters and OC's worlds went upside down.RJTaffyLeonDosolusCollegekid5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
(and these will be UTTER craptastic but trust me. Read until the end. It will make sense then, all these little drabbles of pure shit. I couldn't ask for permission regarding OC's for a good reason, but turn on your humor. DO IT.)
It had been a long day in the Fort and pretty much everyone was ready to drop over from exhaustion. Kurt was lying on his bed, looking through some old prewar books for the hell of it. His shirt was off so he could catch the occasional breeze which would come through his tent and also because the man despised wearing anything dirty.
A few moments later, he felt the familiar touch run up his back, teasing over his spine and his eyes closed as a small smile graced his lips. Adrian. When Kurt felt the mans weight move over his back as he leaned over to whisper a greeting into the Frumentarian's ear, Kurt set down the book and let out a soft sigh. "We need to talk, Adrian....."
The Anthropologist - Human After All (2/2) “ ‘Oops,’ he says,” she quoted irritably. Dr. Kandace Malloway hurried over to the master computer on the wall above the pools within the BATH chamber. “We can’t revive them if they’re still in stasis, Joseph! Get your head on right!”The Anthropologist - Human After All (2/2)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“I’m sorry,” Joey stressed again. “It’s not like it takes a lot of time to push a few buttons,” he muttered under his breath.
“Will both of you relax?” Jenson asked. “Joey – Kandace is right. We can’t afford any mistakes right now. Even little ones,” he added before Joseph could retaliate. “Simon’s gonna flip his lid if something goes wrong this time.”
As if summoned, Simon strode in from the dry lab next door. “How’re things going in here?”
“Fine,” Brent replied quickly. “J
So That's What She Meant.Late that night, after everyone else was in bed, the curiously quiet Burned Man, who accompanied the small group across the river, finally folded the page down on his Book of Mormon and pocketed the Scripture, standing slowly and staring at the flames of the campfire which he'd been reading by for hours.So That's What She Meant.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Late night studying?" piped up a voice behind him, and he turned in surprise, unaware that anyone had remained awake after the rigorous day.
"Have you ever read any of the Scripture?"
Her arms were folded, her eyes weary but still merry enough. Shrugging, the Courier responded, "I'm sure I did when I was younger, but I don't remember it much. I didn't have much time for it, as I recall." Assuming correctly, the Courier gathered that Graham knew of her hardships in her pre-Courier life.
Quoting from memory, Graham recited in his gravelly voice, "Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine
Sign of the Maker part one.Sign of the Maker part one.5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Maker, hear me."
A soft, lilting brogue, rising gently from the central mezzanine of Kirkwall's chantry, caused Grand Cleric Elthina to pause her steps and turn. She let her eyes move sadly toward the kneeling boy she had raised as her own; the boy who was now a man, she reminded herself with a soft shake of her head. Sebastian seemed to spend so many hours on his knees these days that she wondered how he was able to keep up with the lifestyle Cortland Hawke's companionship demanded of him. When would the lad see that his service to the Maker shone through in his every action, his every word? Elthina knew as well as anyone that a holy duty can take many forms and, for someone such as the Vael Prince, that duty could be performed as admirably on his feet as on his knees.
But he would not hear her.
He had ever been a stubborn child. At the whim of the winds of change, but ready to fling himself body and soul in whichever direction they took him. She prayed each day that the winds tearin
Honest Hearts?(I warn you to read description first)Honest Hearts?4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Years had passed since the Dam. Happy years, for the most part, years in which anyone except possibly a shot-in-the-head idiot courier would've been content to sit at the top of a luxurious casino day in and out and raise her family. But alas, she was the 'but', the exception to the rule, and every so often she had to venture out into the wild wasteland to see what it offered her. True to his word, Boone was never far behind, but on the way to Salt Lake she had more than a sniper. Rather, a caravan following her.
Still, her friends from Vegas had remained far to her east, in the old innards of the city. She'd walked probably fifteen miles today, away from the snow-capped mountains and toward the empty, dead lake. It was a place not even raiders enjoyed lurking around, from what the locals said. A great luxurious hotel was set up for them, the others probably enjoying a wa
Dwemeris, A Study (Elderscrolls Dwarvish)Hello, my fellow Elder Scrolls enthusiasts! For my next installment in language study series, I give you Dwemeris! The language of the reclusive, subterranean Dwemer!Dwemeris, A Study (Elderscrolls Dwarvish)1 year ago in Settings More Like This
The only usable source (only comprehensible source) of written text is the Calcelmo’s Stone in Markarth (Appears in Skyrim). The tablet is marvelous find! This is the tablet in English alphabets…
(If you are just here for the phrases I have made, scroll to the very bottom of the page)
ye sa sou meldi calne tarn va molagnensaliye trumbi nou bala
ilpen av sou meldi nagaiale as guntumnia spantelepelaelia arani morae
ye sou liebali racurane ye nu rautane sye ye nu hautalle nou buroi
gune sou gravuloi sa metane sye garlis frey as gondra doemera tarcel
lane sou agea silya nu hecta sou arcten rias nu nemalanta ge nu hecta sou epe
gandra rias ne nemelauta ge nu frey sepe sye arcta varlor denai
cullei noue sta
Best Friends ForeverYou all once were children, even though some of you would rather choose to forget it. Yes, all of you, with no exceptions. You, fierce werewolf huntress - there was a time when the wild flame in your heart was not yet lit, when you had chubby cheeks and untidy ginger pigtails. And you, oh wise Arch-Mage, - there was a time, long, long ago, when your crimson eyes were widened in silent wonder as the world unveiled before you for the very first time. And you, bulkily muscular, battle-hungry Orc warrior - these fangs of yours weren't always so big and sharp and curved; in fact, there was a time when you had no fangs at all, crawling on all fours round the stronghold's longhouse and starting to whimper whenever you lost sight of your mother's skirt. And you... you, haughty, cold-hearted Thalmor Justiciar - you don't really believe that you have worn your gilded robes since the dawn of time, now do you? Even you, yes, even you once were a child.Best Friends Forever3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
My name is Mister Patches; there's qui
Velut Abbas Parilis Filia.Vulpes was breathing raggedly, his chest heaving from the effort it took to walk with his arms behind his back: not that he had a choice, they were tied. His companion, the man at the campfire, strode toward the Legion camp with purpose and calmness, his pistol withdrawn nearly the entire time. Not that it needed to be: there were few things Vulpes Inculta feared, but this man walking alongside him was indeed one thing on the list. Perhaps at the top of the list.Velut Abbas Parilis Filia.5 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He'd not said much along the way, not daring to ask questions, almost mesmerized at whatever dark magic was going on here. The other man didn't talk much either, seemed disgusted by the sight of the blond. Yet he didn't seem surprised when he learned of Vulpes's rank within the Legion. He after all knew most of the men anyway, and Vulpes was one who was at the very least well-known. He gave no reasonings for his motive, but simply said "You will lead