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Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 Moveset:

Gender: Male

Species: Evil Spirit/Sword

Game Series: Soul Series

First Appearance: Soul Edge (1995)

Health: 1,050,000 HP Points

Voice Actor: Patrick Ryan

Power Ranking (Out of 7)

Intelligence: 3
Strength: 7
Speed: 5
Stamina: 5
Energy Projection: 5
Fighting Ability: 7

Assist Alpha: Soul Edge Guillotine (Direct, Tilt Down)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Beta: Soul Edge Spear (Direct, Front)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion
Assist Gamma: Soul Wave (Direct, Instant)
Assist HC: Soul Explosion


There was a time when a man named Siegfried Schtauffen took control of the Soul Edge, becoming powerless under the power of the blade. He eventually was able to retrieve his mentality and used the power of the holy blade Soul Calibur in order to save his body. He was separated from his Nightmare form and became the new wielder of Soul Calibur, while Inferno made a pact with Zasalmel, who made him a new body of his own. Thus…Nightmare was born.

Entrance: Nightmare will have his back turned to his opponent. Then, swinging Soul Edge over his head, he'll turn around and get into his fighting stance.

Entrance Quotes:

#1: Give in to the Dark Abyss of Despair!

#2: Taste Fear!!~

#3: Tremble within my Darkness!!

#4: Your soul will soon become mine!

#5: My Power is absolute!

Against Ryu: Warrior of Legend…your soul shall be mine!

Against Akuma: Your soul is like that of my own…

Against Sentinel/Zero: Soulless being, be gone from my Sight!


Attack Layout:

Ground Level

Standing Light: Sword Handle (51,000)

Standing Medium: High Kick (64,000)

Standing Light: Nightmare Gauntlet (80,000)

Standing Special: Soul Edge Upper Swing (90,000)


Crouching Light: Low Kick (49,000)

Crouching Medium: Low Gauntlet (65,000)

Crouching Hard: Low Soul Edge Sweep (78,000)

Air Attacks

Air Light: Straight Kick (57,000)

Air Medium: Soul Edge Slash (70,000)

Air Hard: Soul Edge Slash #2 (80,000)

Air Special: Soul Edge Axe (90,000)

Unique Moves

Straight Stab (F + H) (85,000)

Nightmare Smash (F + M) (70,000)

Special Moves

NightMare Punch (Qcf + L) (90,000)

Charged with the powers of Soul Edge, Nightmare will do a straight punch charged with dark energy. The attack can stop fireballs if timed properly.

Soul Edge Guillotine (Qcf + M) (100,000)

Nightmare will bring down his Soul Edge on the opponent, the attack causing an OTG bounce and can stop projectiles.

Soul Edge Spear (Qcf + H) (110,000)

Nightmare's reach at its best. Nightmare will stick out his sword straight at the opponent. This attack can smash through any projectile in the game and takes up 2/3 of the screen in distance.

Knight Crusher (Dp + A) (140,000)

His standing Mashing Y/Triangle combo from SC4, Nightmare will smash down his sword a total of three times, the first two times causing a possible hit decay while the third strike causes a ground bounce.

Soul Crusher Side Slash (Qcb + L) (95,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will swing his sword sideways, sending the opponent flying back. The attack can cancel out fireballs.

Soul Crusher Uppercut Slash (Qcb + M) (115,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will uppercut his sword and the opponent with it. This attack can be air comboed into if the attack is timed right.

Soul Crusher Drop Kick (Qcb + H) (120,000)

Charged with electric blue soul power, Nightmare will do a double leg drop kick at the opponent, causing a wall bounce upon connecting with them.

Soul Wave (Down + Down + A) (100,000)

Nightmare will build up a large amount of energy within his body, then expelling it outward in a barrier-like burst. This attack causes an instant Wall bounce upon contact, even from the other side of the screen.

Hyper Combos

Flaming Souls (Qcf + AA) (300,000)

A quick one-hit armored Hyper combo, Nightmare will take Soul Edge in both hands and the blade will alight on fire. Nightmare will then lunge forward and uppercut it into the air, This attack has 2 hits of hyper armor and the flame lengthens the amount of distance on the hyper combo. This attack cancels out all projectile attacks and can even cancel out high priority hyper combos like C.Viper's Emergency Combination.

Soul Explosion (Dp + AA) (285,000)

Nightmare will charge Soul Edge with negative energy and do a lance stab with the sword, large amounts of dark energy flying around the sword as he does so, causing a large amount of combo damage.

Soul Destroyer (Down + Down + AA) (280,000)

A counter hyper combo, Nightmare will charge up a very large amount of energy within his body. If the opponent attacks him as he does so, he'll expel the energy outward in a shockwave, sending the opponent flying and causing a wall bounce.

Level 3: Critical Finish (Qcb + AA) (450,000)

Nightmare's Critical Finish from  is now his level 3 Hyper combo. The attack begins with an uppercut sword slash. If the attack connects with the opponent, Nightmare will throw his sword up into the air, which will air combo the opponent before bringing them back down into the ground. Soul Edge will then cause a giant area of dark energy to appear around the opponent as it combos them and explodes, ending the hyper combo.

Victory Pose:

Nightmare will take the Soul Edge in both hands, then raising it above his head, the sword shooting off Red Lightning from its tip into the air.

Victory Quotes:

#1: The Nightmare…will NEVER END!!

#2: Blood…Darkness…Come Unto Me!!

#3: Your souls…were rather good!

#4: Your Meager Souls are WORTHLESS!!!

#5: The Darkness is everlasting!!

#6: The near!

Against Ryu/Akuma/Wolverine: Warrior…your soul shall surely satisfy me!

Assist Quotes:

Call Partner:



"Tremble in Fear!"

Last Person Switch Out:

"The Darkness is coming for you!!"

Color Scheme:

#1: Dark Blue

#2: Black

#3: Dark Red

#4: Dark Green

#5: Dark Brown

#6: Dark Purple

I hereby give Capcom full rights over this moveset and are welcome to use this in any way/shape/form that they desire.

*Ahem* Well...I've been playing alot of Soul Calibur 4 lately and...well...I was tempted to make a moveset for possibly one of the best and coolest game villains ever, Nightmare from the Soul Calibur . This guy is one of the reasons I hope they expand to Namco vs. Capcom after Street Fighter X Tekken is done, for I'd use a team of Felicia and Nightmare (And Wesker if it's 3 vs 3) and be completely unstoppable! >8D

Anyways...enjoy everyone. :3
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We come from the land of the ice and snow,
From the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
How soft your fields so green, can whisper tales of gore,
Of how we calmed the tides of war. We are your overlords.

"The Immigrant Song", Led Zeppelin (Page, Plant)

The morning was colder than it had been in recent days. Ralof wasn't convinced that the temperature had anything to do with the climate of Skyrim however; he was sure the camp's proximity to the fort at Broken Tower Redoubt had more to do with the chill up his spine. Those damn Forsworn crawled through the fort; their burning eyes scanning the horizon. Ralof and his men were forced to keep their cooking fires low to prevent unwanted attention. It also meant that they had to rely upon their furs and pelts for added warmth. And he wasn't sure if either was successful.

Low clouds at this elevation were at least helping to provide cover from both directions: preventing discovery from the fort to the south and the caravan that was parked to the north that they had been tracking. It was involved in some sort of an accident – from what his scouts advised him, Ralof could only assume that they encountered a sinkhole. The freezing and thawing of the ground led to a depression that one of the largest carts became trapped in.

It was a positive development for his Stormcloak brethren – this was going to be their first mission to prove their worth to Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric's second in command. Ralof had hoped since his promotion to Captain for an opportunity like this. Something to prove to his seniors that he was worthy of the title. This delay in the caravan's progress would allow for the reinforcements to arrive, and he would lead them to victory against the guards they would face. Since he received word that the men Galmar was sending should be arriving that day, he had been on the lookout for them since the sun rose.

"Still no sign of reinforcements, Captain?"

Ralof looked up at the Nord warrior Haakon. The large man was leaning heavily upon his steel greatsword.

"I don't suspect we'll see them until closer to the time when the sun is highest in the sky," Ralof said, shaking his head. "But then, I've been wrong before." His eyes narrowed as he looked towards the south. A figure in the fog was approaching from a distance; small, yet guarded. He couldn't tell who it was…whether it was one of the Forsworn or someone else. "On your guard men."

The soldiers in the temporary camp readied their weapons and slipped behind the natural elements in the landscape. They were partially surrounded on three sides by large shrubbery and thick vegetation. Several jutting pieces of rock stuck out as well, obscuring their position from oncoming attack. Yet the approaching individual seemed to be heading directly towards them. Ralof signalled to the others to stay back as he stepped out slowly towards the path, attempting to draw the figure's attention away from his troops. He could see the silhouetted figure place their hand upon their sheathed weapon, but did not draw it.

As the fog slowly dissipated from around the figure, he could make out that it was a woman who approached. A woman he'd seen before. Of course! She was at Korvanjund when we retrieved the crown for Ulfric!

But it wasn't the first time he'd seen her. Her face was unmistakable. She had also been on the wagon when he was taken to Helgen…to be put to death. He had no idea then what her so-called crime was against the Imperials, but it appeared that she wasn't about to let them get away with anything they'd done against her now. She had joined the Stormcloaks to fight against the Empire.

"Good day to you, woman," he called out. "Have you been sent by Galmar?"

He could see her relax her stance as she continued to approach. "I have."

"Just you?" Ralof was taken aback that she was their only reinforcement.

She finally stood before him and nodded. "Do you not trust Galmar's judgment?"

"I do not question his judgment," he replied. "But I'll admit I was expecting…more than a single person."

"He tells me that you'll only need me for this," she said flatly. "There are apparently small numbers guarding the caravan. And that you'll only need one person to sneak into it."

"So you know of our mission then?"

"I was the one who discovered just how important this caravan will be for us," she replied. He wondered if there were arrogance behind her words, but it appeared to be nothing more than a factual statement. "I suppose it's rather serendipitous that you've managed to encounter this in your scouting patrols."

"Yes…absolutely fortunate," he replied. "You must have been travelling on foot for some time. Please…come and get some food and we can discuss how to handle this situation."

She nodded and followed him to where the others were concealed. He could see her scanning over him, uncertain of something.

"Like what you see, Breton?" he joked.

"No," she quickly replied. "I mean…yes…I…" She looked straight ahead, trying to avoid his eyes.

He chuckled over her awkwardness. "Relax. I'm only wondering why you're paying such close attention to me."

She looked back at him. "I'm just trying to figure out where I know you from. I think I saw you before we took Whiterun."

"Ah, yes," he replied. "Whiterun as well. I was wondering the same when I saw you approaching. I recall you from Korvanjund. And Helgen."

"Helgen?" she replied incredulously. "You were at Helgen?"

"I was. In fact, we spoke briefly. In the wagon on the way there."

"You?" She eyed him closely, slowly nodding. "Yes, I do remember you now. You were the one…you set me free of my bindings."

He nodded. "And after everything, you still decided to go with that damned Hadvar," he said, joking.

"Yeah…about that," she replied. "I didn't know what was happening. It was chaotic. There were people everywhere. I didn't know where I was—"

"Relax," Ralof interrupted. "I'm only joking. I know it was chaotic. I only wondered if it was something I said."

"I…I don't think so," she replied.

He looked at her oddly. "You don't…really get my humour…do you?"

She frowned. "No, I suppose I don't. Sorry about that…but then, I have a lot going on…in here." She pointed to her head.

He chuckled and stopped her. "We still haven't introduced ourselves. I'm Ralof. Captain Ralof."

"Captain, is it?" she repeated. "Well, it is good to meet you, Captain Ralof. I'm Marieka. No title."

"Marieka, you say," he replied. "I've heard your name in whispers. And I believe you do have a title. You've been called Bone-Breaker."

She grimaced. "Hardly. I'm a mage, Ralof. I rarely break bones."

"Galmar and Ulfric do not easily throw titles around," he advised. "Whatever you've done, you must have impressed them. Either way, let me introduce you to everyone here."

She peered around him, spotting the group that had now relaxed their positions when they saw Ralof welcoming her to the camp.

He passed her a large piece of bread, for which she was thankful and immediately began to pick away at it while he introduced the Stormcloaks. He pointed to each member of the camp in turn, beginning with Haakon who approached her and nodded. He was a full two heads taller than she was and Ralof couldn't help but smile when he saw just how far she had to crane her neck to look at the man. Two others approached, both archers: Jannicke, a tall, slender Nord with the appearance of a young woman just coming into her own; and Peder, a grizzled older man full of anger and an inherent mistrust for outsiders. Neither of the two seemed particularly impressed with Marieka's appearance at the camp, but greeted her nonetheless. A young man in his teenage years approached her, sticking out his hand to greet her. She shook it and he introduced himself as Soren. As the smallest one in camp, he was pleased to find someone was finally more diminutive than he. Another archer, Karine remained on the ground, but nodded to her as she stepped forth. The last of the group was a blacksmith – an older man named Stellan who travelled with them to assist with weapons support when it was needed.

She looked at Stellan and then at Soren carefully. "You must be kin," she observed. "The two of you resemble each other far too much to be coincidental."

Stellan smiled at her as he looked upon the younger man. The shade of their dark blonde hair was similar. The facial structure near their nose and chin were almost identical. And despite the different colours of the iris of their eyes, the shapes were unmistakably similar. He nodded at her. "Soren is my son."

Her expression turned contemplative, and while Ralof did not miss it, neither did he comment upon it. They had all experienced loss in their lives at one point or another; there was no sense in dwelling upon it.

"Come Marieka," he said. "Now that you've met everyone in camp, perhaps we can discuss strategy."

She nodded. "What's the situation at the caravan?"

Ralof described the delay they faced with the current status of the largest cart. He suggested that if one of them could infiltrate the caravan's location to take out the scout, the rest of them could attack the Imperial guards from the ridge above. It couldn't have been in a more perfect location.

"I could certainly help in that regard," Marieka said. "Though I work best under cover of darkness."

"I thought it best that we attacked at night anyhow," Ralof agreed. He looked around at the others for their agreement. Seeing no opposition, he continued. "It's settled then. We attack at dusk. With any luck, the Imperials will have bellies full of meat and mead and won't know what's hit them. Feel free to explore, but stay away from the caravan. And be back before the sun begins to set."

Most of the group dispersed, happy to stretch their legs for the day and careful to avoid the area south where the Forsworn were situated. Only Marieka, Stellan and his son remained with Ralof, and she quickly settled in next to the fire and into conversation. That discussed at length how both Ralof and Stellan came to be a part of the rebellion, but eventually, Ralof's curiousity got the better of him.

"So how does a Breton find herself in the company of Ulfric Stormcloak?" he asked out of the blue.

She shrugged slightly. "I found my way to Windhelm for…something. I can't even recall what I was there for now. But I came upon the scene of some guards investigating a murder of a young woman. When the guards said I couldn't help them unless I had permission from the steward, I marched right up to the Palace of the Kings. And the man I was searching for wasn't there…so I spoke directly to Ulfric."

"Wow," Soren said, evidently star struck. "You know, you hear of these great leaders, but you never think you'll meet them. What was it like? To meet Ulfric, I mean."

Her expression changed; she looked temporarily confused. "I'm not sure…I mean…what do you mean? He's…just a man."

Soren looked slightly disappointed by her answer. "You mean, you weren't in awe of him? He's such a legendary man! Shouting the High King to death!"

She shrugged. "Well, I suppose. That is, he's impressive. Rather large, but then his second is so much more frightening. Especially since I'm so…not very large."

Stellan chuckled at her stumbling over words. "Don't mind the boy," he said. "Ulfric has been a hero to him for some years now. That they finally allowed him to join the rebellion has been a bit of a blessing for our family. It has given me some regular work as well."

"Your work is much needed, Stellan," Ralof interjected. "And your son is of the age where we can begin to include him in some more basic tasks. He has learned to fight well very quickly."

Soren's face lit up with a large smile. His father put an arm around him proudly.

"A true Nord," Stellan said. "Never prouder have I been of my son."

Marieka smiled at them both, yet Ralof again noticed the wistful look behind the smile.

"You're of the age to have children, Marieka," Stellen noted. "Do you have any?"

"Me?" she exclaimed. "Oh no! No, I don't have children."

"What's wrong?" Ralof joked. "Haven't found the right man? You need one of us strong Nords…not one of your silky Breton men."

She couldn't hold back the smile from her face. "No…no, it's not that," she replied. "I'm just…I don't think I'm the mothering type."

Both Stellan and Ralof looked at her, as if appraising her suitability from her appearance.

"Nonsense," Stellan countered. "Every woman has it in them to be a mother."

"Bah!" she growled. "You Nords and your ridiculous molds to fit everyone into. Not every woman is suitable for domestication, you know."

"Oh ho ho!" Ralof exclaimed. "Got a bit of a lively one here, eh Stellan?"

Marieka crossed her arms defiantly, glaring at him. "I'm much too busy to consider even thinking about a child," she pointed out. "What, with the rebellion…and…I do a lot of travelling. I'm very busy."

"You mentioned that," Ralof said, smirking. "I think I was right. You haven't found the right man."

She shot him another cold look. "As a matter of fact," she corrected him, "I have found the right man. We just…haven't…discussed such things."

"Are you married?" Stellan asked.

"What? Why does everyone want to know if I'm married?" she exclaimed in a huff. "No, I'm not married to the man."

Ralof smiled at Stellan, pleased at the reaction they were getting as they teased her.

"Is he a prissy Breton?" Ralof asked, chuckling after he did so.

"By the gods, Ralof," she grumbled, clearly not amused by the line of questions. "Why must all you men be the same? Always asking the same questions. Always wanting to know what isn't your business."

"Ah, my apologies, Marieka," he said. "I've been enjoying your reaction."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You do realize I can set you on fire if I want, right?"

He laughed in response. "Truly. I am sorry."

"Fine," she said. "Apology accepted."

A few moments of silence passed.

"I still want to know if this man's a Breton."

If she could have set him on fire simply by looking at him, it would have happened in that moment.

"Oh for Talos' sake!" she cried. "No! He's not a Breton. He's a Nord! Are you happy to know this?"

Ralof looked over at Stellan, who immediately shrugged at him.

"Actually, yes. That does make me strangely happy," he replied.

She drove a small fist into his arm. "Ow! Your bloody chainmail!"

The three men laughed openly at her. She looked down at her hand, rubbing it and scrunching up her face. But soon after, she joined in with them, laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole conversation.

"Listen," she began. "No more questions about me, okay?"

The others nodded, before Soren's eyes lit up. "Wait! I have one more!"

She sighed. "Go ahead, Soren."

"You said your name was Marieka," he said. "I've heard rumours about a Marieka. That she is the Dragonborn. Is it true? Are you the Marieka they talk about?"

"Soren," Stellan interrupted. "Don't…"

"No Stellan," she said. "It's…fine. I…yes. I am her. I'm the Dragonborn."

Soren nearly fainted from the revelation. Ralof's jaw dropped; his mouth opening wide. "Gods woman! You should have told me before. I'd never have teased you so much had I known you could shout me to death if you wanted to!"

"And you continue to tease, Captain?" she asked. "You really don't know what's good for you."

He smiled at her. "Marieka…Dragonborn…we are pleased to have you here with us. I tease because…it's what I do best."

"It really is," Stellan agreed. "To tell the truth, I have no idea how he became Captain. This fool of a man."

"Hey," Ralof protested. "I'm right here."

"I thank you all for your…interesting method of welcoming a person into your scouting party," she said. "But I expect your treatment of me will be no different from the rest of your soldiers."

"If that's what you wish," he replied, "then I can certainly treat you like every other grunt around here."

"That suits me just fine," she replied, smiling.

"Which means you can start peeling the potatoes for the stew we'll be making for lunch," he instructed, grinning at her.

She nodded. "Walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," he said, handing her a sack. "If you don't have a suitable knife, I'm sure we can find you one."

He smiled to himself, content that this woman – the Dragonborn herself – would be fighting at his side. Had fought by his side. And yet, was not above helping to prepare a meal for her fellow Stormcloaks. For all the powers that being the Dragonborn brought with it, she was humble…unassuming. She barely looked to be a threat to anyone.

But he recalled now seeing her fight when they entered the ruins at Korvanjund. And he remembered that she had shouted. He didn't really know what it was that he had seen at the time, but now it all made sense. She had a gift from the gods and was delivered directly into the hands of the Stormcloaks. They must have truly favoured the true sons and daughters of Skyrim to have sent the Dragonborn into their ranks.

He had no illusions about the dangers of the civil war he was entangled in. But at the very least, with the Dragonborn at his side – and essentially his command – his confidence increased by leaps and bounds. There was no way anything could possibly go wrong this day. The caravan would be ripe for the picking and his name would be remembered. It was all Ralof could ever have asked for.

He'd have to remember to thank her for it all later.

If he'd have ever told his men a fortnight ago – before they'd successfully taken the broken caravan with little resistance – that they'd all be standing victorious on the top of Fort Sungard that day, Ralof would have been laughed out of camp. Yet there he stood, listening to the cheers of the Stormcloaks as they celebrated their victory over the Imperials in the Reach.

He stood upon the southern rampart of the fort, surveying the destruction in the courtyard below. So much death. The Imperials fought hard, bringing an end to several Stormcloak soldiers before they met their own ends. Yet they prevailed. There were many injured rebels who fought bravely and stood until they could no longer do so. A small figure darted back and forth between them all. It was Marieka; she was handing out mixtures to heal their lesser wounds, and using her arcane abilities to attempt to heal some of the deeper, more grievous injuries. It seemed that the Bone-Breaker was actually quite the opposite of her title.

"Oye!" he called. "Dragonborn!"

She paused, spinning around to look up at him. "Captain! You survived!" she called back to him. "Shocking!"

"Bite your tongue, woman!"

Even from that height, he could see her smirk as she returned her attention to the soldier she was next to. Their short tenure together had seen them grow close on the battlefield. She continued to fall into his traps of wit and mischievous banter, but she never seemed to mind the teasing in the end. Why, he'd even begun to consider her a friend.

When she'd finished assisting those who required it, she ascended the stairs to the outer wall of the fort and approached Ralof. When she stood in front of him, he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Nice work out there," he said.

She nodded and looked up at him. "You too. The troops fight well under your command, Captain."

"It is a shame we lost some today," he replied. "We will return their bodies to their families. I'll see to that."

"I'd like to help you, if I can," she advised and he nodded.

He was about to continue, when a commotion from outside the gates of the fort sounded. They both looked down to see a young Nord on horseback, riding furiously into the courtyard.

"The Captain!" he called. "Where is the captain?"

"Up here, boy!" Ralof shouted down. The young man immediately dismounted and ran up the steps towards where they stood.

When he reached them, he pulled out a parchment and handed it to Ralof.

"I bring a message from Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak," he declared.

Ralof looked at Marieka, who shrugged in response. He unrolled the parchment and his eyes skimmed the message quickly. They widened as he read the letter.

"What is it, Ralof?" Marieka asked.

"A dragon," he replied. "A dragon has attacked Windhelm. Ulfric summons us there immediately."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she sighed. "I shall instruct the men to gather the bodies of the fallen, and then I'll prepare myself to leave."

He nodded and folded the parchment up. A dragon at Windhelm. What did it mean? Did the gods not favour the Stormcloaks after all? He hurried down the steps to prepare himself for departure as well. This was not good news. But at the very least, the Dragonborn would be there when he met with Ulfric. If anyone would be able to assist in this situation, it would be Marieka.

When she returned to his side, ready to set off for Windhelm, he saw the concern on her face. She was just as uncertain over what was to come as he was.

"I think it's time we set aside our differences with the Empire for a short while," he said. "There is a far bigger threat in these dragons than the Imperials could ever be to Skyrim."

She nodded. "We'd best hurry. Ulfric won't want to be kept waiting over this."

Ralof left Haakon in charge of the remaining troops and set off with Marieka on their long journey to Windhelm. So much uncertainty existed. He silently prayed to the gods that they'd see the Stormcloaks to victory over the Imperials…but first, that they'd allow them to survive the return of the dragons to Tamriel. And as he watched Marieka out of the corner of his eye, he knew that he wasn't the only one doing so.
A series of connected one shots of the Dovahkiin from the perspective of traveling companions, friends, lovers and those who attempted to cross her.

A/N: Okay, I just wanted another opportunity to link to this video, hence using this song in the beginning. But, it does relate nonetheless. Go check this out…it's the full opening credits to The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo…The Immigrant Song as interpreted by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross. In-freaking-credible. [link]

Just another thank you to all the new folks along for the ride (through faves and watches), and my old faithful readers. Thank you all for your feedback, comments, reviews, PMs. I'm feeling the love…seriously. For those of you who don't know, I was in a bit of a snowmobile accident on the weekend, so the bulk of this chapter was precariously written with a laptop on one leg with the other one up on the back of the couch, and me…pumped full of painkillers. At least I've stopped with the wine for a bit.

Published simultaneously at

Part of The Girl with the Voice collection.
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Regret --

Many things I regret
I want to take them back
But it's too late
I can never take them back
They've already hurt me so much
What can I do now?

Inside this HELL --

Light fades away
Darkness takes over
My control is gone
I can't be free
Alone and trapped inside this hell
Why won't you save me?
Because it's too late
I'm gone
Lost forever in the darkness
More depressing emo poems I came up with. I've been more depressed than before lately.
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As the young blond traced small details onto her map, she wiped a bit of sweat from her brow. For early fall, it sure was hot... Or perhaps that was just the heat of the furnace getting to her? Sighing, Fleet dropped her quill and stood up, dragging her hand through her short, fluffy hair. The day had been long, and the evidence of this was all over her body- Dirty clothes, a small smudge of coal dust on her left cheek... Not to mention the fact that her hands were stained with ink. But all the dirt, all of that dust had been worth it. It was always worth it. Sitting back down again, she didn't even notice the sun setting as she her mind floated in the lala land that most refer to as reverie. Nor did she notice the tall shadow striding towards her house, a diamond block in hand.

No, Fleet was far too lost in her thoughts to even realize that she'd left the door open. Too busy thinking about how she dove down into that cave everyday, and always hauled back such a huge load. Today was the day she'd actually done something a little different. Fleet had traveled far in order to find a new cave, and add to her map. The thought of fresh air just seemed great, really. And it was- Until she'd seen that tall ass stilty creature running around with a sand block in it's hand. She didn't even know how lucky she was that it hadn't noticed that she'd seen it... Or so she thought. She'd taken off too soon to even pay attention to what it was, dropping the diamond block she'd just crafted in the process. That had absolutely sucked. There were so many things she could've done with that diamond...

Fleet leaned back in her chair, letting out a yawn that turned into a startled yelp as the door slammed, jumping up a little. The jump caused her chair to scoot back a little and then fall over. Her eyes widened as the shadow creature from before stared down at her, just... Staring back. Both were frozen. The Enderman because it was being stared at, and the human because she was scared as NETHER. This fear spiked as Fleet's eyes drifted to the diamond block it was holding. She recognized that block. Did this thing follow her? She looked back at the Enderman, letting out yet another yelp as it seemed to have gotten closer, leaned in closer. Why in the Nether had it followed her all that way? And more importantly, it seemed hostile. Kinda. So if it was following her that whole way, it would've had a chance to kill her any time it wanted.

So, why didn't it? As she continued staring at the creature, she shuddered. That whispering... It was terrifying. Like listening to a ghost or something. Maybe it was a ghost? Gulping, she struggled not to blink. And failed. The Enderman took this chance to kneel down and lean in closer, it's long, gangly limbs dragging on the floor for quite a length. When Fleet opened her eyes again, she wasn't surprised that it was closer... But she still whimpered anyway. Was she going to die today? So, lying there upside down with her feet in the air, she was going to die. Sitting in a chair upside down. Whatever happened to creepers just exploding and sending your limbs flying? Or being arrowed to death? Since when did monsters act so personal when they killed you? Questions like these flooded the teen's mind as her heart pounded...

It was an interesting thing, being terrified. It was almost like being in love. Your heart felt like it was gonna explode in your chest, your emotions ran rampant, you felt like you were about to cry, and you're afraid to speak. They both sent adrenaline pumping through your veins. Was there really even a difference? The Enderman stared down at her, vaguely wondering when the girl was gonna give him a chance to move again. He didn't have long to wait- She shut her eyes to squeeze the tears away. He moved in closer, closer... Until his face was an inch from hers. Her eyes popped open, and the tears began to flow. Why keep from crying? She was going to die anyway... Maybe it was best to let her tear ducts have their way?

Unable to move, the Enderman merely stared at her with his glowing green eyes. The air felt tight. Fleet knew that if she closed her eyes one more time, she would die immediately. It would eat her, or something. The Enderman, of course, had other plans. Not that Fleet knew anything about them. In her pocket, her clock ticked. Her heart beat erratically when compared to the ticking. Ticking, thumping, inaudible whispers. Each second of it seemed to last an hour. Her eyes began to feel dry, and the tears made her eyelids feel a little crusty.

Just one blink, it would make it better... Wouldn't it? But just one blink... And she'd die, wouldn't she? But it didn't matter. No matter what, she'd die. It wasn't like she could attack... If she moved her gaze from this strange, tall shadow for even a second to pull out her sword, she'd still die. Fleet's eyelids began to droop, and the Enderman's eyes brightened a little. Suddenly, the girl was just... So... Tired. She just wanted to shut her eyes. There was nothing she could do now. No matter what, if she moved her eyes from the gangly beast at all, she'd die. Quietly, one last tear slipped from her left eye as they both closed for what she thought was forever.
Inspired by Minecraft's Enderman, obviously. xD
There will be two alternate endings to this. One is based on how a Herobrine and a creeper are made. :3
However, I'll take requests for endings... So I'll upload all ending requests. :3
God, I'm so uncreative with names. This Fleet is in no way related to my Ribbon Eel Girl Fleet. xD
Ending- Gone Forever [link]
Alternate Ending- Pity the Taken [link]
Romance Ending- Didn't mean to scare you, oops [link]

I love R&R~ It brings improvement, I think. :3
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(Requested by Dekler :3)
Fleet waited.
And waited.
And waited.


She opened her eyes, and saw that the Enderman had backed away slightly, and was now holding out a hand to help her up. The blond stared. What... Why on earth? In utter confusion, she grabbed it's hand and let out a yelp as it hoisted her to her feet with ease and held out the diamond block she'd abandoned when she'd run away. But why? Fleet tilted her head and took the block, looking into the Enderman's eyes. It stared back and seemed to quiver a little, but it could still move. Why? Just... Why?

The answer was because it liked those big bright blue eyes, and the shiny hair. The Enderman wondered whether or not the hair was soft. Fleet didn't understand why it was staring at her hair... Did it want to pet her or someth- Her question was answered as it raised it's hand to her head and ran it through her short hair. It sent a small shock through her, jolting her body. It was indeed soft, and the Enderman could detect a faint sugary scent wafting from the pretty locks. Fleet on the other hand just felt sort of awkward. This was sorta weird... A faint blush appeared on her cheeks, because she was so confused and embarrassed. Did this tall gangly thing just follow her to her house to pet her, or what?

She looked at the floor, down at the Enderman's feet. The second she did, she saw him take a step forward and looked up in surprise- SURPRISE! Much to her absolute confusion, she'd looked up and locked lips with the Enderman. Almost immediately, she took a step away. However, the Enderman just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close again. He liked her. He liked her a lot. He liked the feelings his tummy had when he looked into her eyes, and he especially liked the feeling that he'd had just now. Fleet's face was bright red... This was so awkward. Did this beast.. No, this person have no idea what was coursing through her mind right now? In all honesty, it was like it had a crush on her or something... Oh god. Oh god. Her eye's widened, and she looked up at the tall, dark shadow she was being hugged by. Despite being rather naive when it came to love, she knew what she saw in those eyes. Infatuation. Curiosity. But no lust. That was interesting. But still awkward. Here she was being apparently courted by him, even though he'd just been terrifying the hell out of her a few minutes ago. What. The. Heck? She thought, unconsciously leaning her head onto his chest.

The Enderman let out a gleeful whisper and hugged her tighter, wishing it could speak to her. But it couldn't, not in this realm. In this realm, he was paralyzed by the stares of everyone until they looked away. And for some reason, after they stopped looking at him, he would attack most of them. He didn't understand why, though. Nor did he understand how this girl was any different, other than the fact that he liked her a lot. But he didn't know if she knew. What if... he took her to his realm, to The End? After all, he couldn't court her correctly, otherwise. When Endermen found mates, they went to the Great and wise Enderdragon and asked for a scale with which to propose to their mate. The dragon would give them the scale, and they in turn would give the scale to the lucky Enderman/woman. Or, in this case, Human. The idea in his head felt great, so the Enderman went with it. He let go of Fleet, who'd been sort of comfortable for a while there and tore one of her heavy curtains from the window, draping it over himself. It was daytime now, so they needed to make a break towards the portal.

Fleet stared, not really happy with him for ripping her curtains off of their hinges, even if it was probably to protect him from the light. However, she had no time to say anything about it, because the Enderman grabbed her by the hand after wrapping himself tight with the curtain and threw one of his Enderpearls to the ground. Fleet let out a yelp of surprise- Not the first one today- as they were instantly warped to the inside of a Stronghold, in front of a large glowing square with lava below it. Fleet had no idea what it was, she only knew that the seemingly suicidal Enderman was pulling her along with him into the portal, straight towards the lava. "Are you crazy?!" She screamed in total horror, not wanting to die today. However, they didn't die. The bright portal blocks caught them instead, and they fazed away instantly. Fleet blinked.

Then unblinked. Suddenly, the two of them were in a strange world, where there were Ender people everywhere. They looked up with interest, seeing one of their brethren covered in a strange cloth, and him holding hands with a pale skinned girl. One of the female Enderman came up to him and asked, "What is this?" In a whispery voice. She wasn't mean about it, just inquisitive. Another one came up. "A ghost?" He suggested, tilting his head. Fleet's Enderman shook his head. "No... Human." He stated, smiling. Within the actual realm of The End, one could actually see an Enderman's features quite well. Fleet was confused. "Umm.." She murmured, tilting her head. The Enderwoman looked up in surprise. "You can... Speak?" She asked innocently, so much so that Fleet had to crack a smile. "Well, yeah. But... Um... Where are we?" She asked, tilting her head. The Enderwoman smiled back and giggled. "In The End, of course. Ec'e Has brought you here, for reasons we don't know..." She explained, reaching up suddenly to run a hand through Fleet's golden hair. It shone brightly within the dim light of The End, making her truly seem like a ghost. Fleet blushed a little, not used to so much attention. However, she turned to Ec'e, the Enderman who had brought her here, and whom she'd seemed to develop a small attachment to. "Why did you bring me here... Ec'e?" The young woman asked, tilting her head. Ec'e Looked away slightly, and a tinge of purple came to his cheeks. "I can't ask you until I go get something." He explained, then turned to the Enderwoman who was busy petting Fleet. "Eun'e, can you maybe show her around while I go do something?" He asked, and Eun'e nodded. She knew exactly what was going on. But first, she looked at Fleet, who had a look of confusion plastered onto her pretty face. "What's your name?" She asked, smiling as she led her off towards god knows where. "I'm Fleet. Nice to meet you." She said happily. Eun'e's smile widened. "I am Eun'e, as you know. Nice to meet you as well, Fleet. I'm Ec'e's sister, by the way." The two walked off, with a few other Enderpeople following along to question the Human about her world. In the meantime, it was up to Ec'e to get a scale from the Almighty Enderdragon.

It wasn't all that hard to scale the islands of Whitestone to get to the Enderdragon. What was hard was getting him to give him permission to become lifemates with the human girl, Fleet. The dragon simply did not understand. "You..." It rumbled in it's deep voice, which still had an echoey tone to it, "Wish to take a human. Not from this realm, not even your own species... That's interesting. But why do you wish to do so?  Is it because she's a shiny new toy, to show off to all the others?" It asked, tilting it's head as it inspected it's huge claws. Ec'e shook his head, but had trouble finding the words to speak. The dragon smirking and leaned in close, until his large snout was a mere inch away from Ec'e's face. "So. You don't want to show the human off. I can see into your mind, why you like this human. No Enderperson has ever caught your eye, but when you saw the human today, you felt a flipping in your stomach, didn't you? Something new, special, pretty, full of wonder and life. Something you could fall in love with." It murmured, making Ec'e's face go dark purple. That was exactly how he felt. But the way the Great Enderdragon had put it, it sounded like it was shallow and not even real love.

Suddenly, the dragon turned away and let out a great, laughing, roar. He plucked a scale from his hide and turned around, handing it to Ec'e. "Go now, little Enderman. Just go." He ordered, still chuckling. Ec'e booked it off the mountain, grinning like a madman. He was going to get Fleet, and take her. They would be each others. As long as she accepted the scale.

And you now what?

She did.
xD Ending requested by :icondekler:
I fail at cute endings, so it's really super duper uber sappy. xD
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Of the Dragonborn and fated days foretold.

(a newer version of an older song:… )

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:bulletblue: Twitter
:bulletgreen: Commissions (art & poetry)

Art and Lyrics ©Liefesa
Original game and dragon language script ©Bethesda
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1. You are a writer.  It does not matter that your form of writing is fanfiction – you are creating a piece of written art and therefore you are a writer.  It will never be published outside of your personal webpage and DeviantArt but that isn’t important.  Your writing transcends the petty literary anthologies.  Besides, who wants to be one of those kinds of writers?  They’re all just elitist snobs anyways.

2. When selecting a piece to write fanficiton about, make sure it is a well-known one.  Plastering “FINAL FANTASY VII” all over the piece ensures that only dedicated fans look at it.  Otherwise, you might wind up having one of those literary elitist snobs stumble across it, and we all know how they view fanfiction.  Also, it ensures you an immediate fanbase.  Selecting a relatively unknown work as your subject material means that only a select few will be able to read and comprehend it.  That simply won’t do – you are a writer – you need an audience!

3. Plot is the driving force behind fanfiction.  Remember – the bigger the better.  People read Lord of the Rings because it had Frodo saving the world and defeating the evil Sauron so you must find something of epic proportions to match that.  How about Inuyasha teaming up with Legolas to fight Sephiroth for control of the universe?  Excellent.  

While these sort of plots are a staple of fanfiction, they are not the only option for an aspiring author.  Lists making fun of characters are always a viable option, as are “A Day in the Life Of ….”  Be sure to include plenty of recurring jokes – inside ones you share with your parakeet and your five year old brother are the best.  

4. Description is unnecessary.  Remember, the focus of a fanfiction is the plot/pairings, not how well you can write.  Imagery, metaphors, and symbolism only get in the way.  The most in-depth you will ever need to get with description is about one adjective per sentence.  Here is an example:

Good – Riku quickly swung his sword straight at Sora’s face.  “I hate you!” he yelled, angrily “You stole Leon from me!”

Bad – Riku threw himself into the attack, his sword a dark blur as it tore through the empty space between him and Sora.  “I hate you!” he cried, “You stole Leon from me!”

5. For characters, always use the main ones.  Everyone knows who Fred and George are; the audience isn’t going to be interested in ol’ Jor-something.  There is an added bonus to using characters that everybody knows already.  You don’t have to waste precious time that could be spent on the plot with characterization.  Why bother with those deep and meaningful moments that define the psyche of a character, or even the minute ones that give insights into their personality?  That’s the job of the original author, not yours.  All you do is put them into a new and insightful plot that no one has done before.

Another point to remember is that your characters always have the best stuff.  If you decide to write about Squall’s first year with SeeD make sure he has both his gunblade and the coolest summons in the game.  And by coolest I mean Bahamut.  

6. Know the lingo!  No fanfiction writer can consider himself/herself literate if he/she is not familiar with the various pairings and terminology that exists.  Some good terms to know:
a. Slash – method used to denote pairings of a romantic/physical nature.  Ex. Harry/Snape, Draco/Hermione.  Can also be used to denote the genre of a piece of fanfiction.
b. Bishonen – very hot male, often in a feminine way
c. Mary Sue – a term the elitist literary snobs use for your character.  Ignore them.
d. Yaoi – male on male pairings
e. M-preg – actually, I’m not going there.  You sickos.

7. Put yourself into the story.  There are two accepted means of doing this.  One is to put your literal self into the story – this is generally done for the sillier versions of stories as you can then run around throwing fish at people, as I’m sure you do in real life.  The second method is to make up a character based off of yourself.  If you are female your character will be utterly gorgeous, rich, powerful, talented in 89 different forms of fighting, and have powerful magics to boot.  The main characters will fall instantly in love with you.  After all, why would Cloud want that nasty old Aeris when compared to your character?  If you are male your character will be strong, handsome, and able to defeat an entire army with only his incredible cunning and a pointed stick.  All the attractive females will be swooning over him.  Remember, personality flaws are to be omitted.  This is your fanfiction, why would you want to portray yourself as anything other than perfect?

8. Remember, fanfictions exist to fulfill your own dreams and fantasies.  If you’ve always wanted to see Harry Potter and Ron Weasely get it on then by all means make that the focus of your story.  Don’t worry if the original author has made it clear that a character favors someone else/a different gender.  This is your fanfiction and therefore your world.  Feel free to re-write romance, sexual orientation, anything.  Wedding rings only last as long as the original author’s book does.  

Mortal enemies provide a wealth of fanfiction pairings.  The saying “keep your friends close and enemies closer” takes new meaning when writing fanfiction relationships.  By “closer” they mean bedroom sans clothing.  And remember – nothing is illegal in fanfiction.  It is perfectly acceptable for Sephiroth and Riku to have a physical relationship; statuary rape doesn’t exist in your version of Kingdom Hearts!

9. Blood is good.  Whenever a fight erupts you want to ensure that the combatants somehow lose their clothing and obtain a tasteful amount of wounds.  There is nothing better than a fanfiction involving shirtless and slightly bloodied characters.  Another means of obtaining the necessary violence is to put the characters at the mercy of another, especially if you combine captivity with slash.  Some good characters to play the role of captor are: an already established mortal enemy, a traitorous friend, a character that you introduce, and the character that represents yourself.  

Remember, no matter how badly you injure the main characters, they will recover.  The only time you want to actually kill off a character is so that the others can mourn his/her loss and swear vengeance.  Make sure that it’s an unimportant character that no one really cares about, like Hermione.  No one really likes that know-it-all.

10. If you cannot decide which work to write fanfiction for, consider a crossover.  These feature characters from one story taking a vacation to another story for unknown reasons and even unknown means.  The only thing that matters is that you get all your favorite characters into one piece!  This means more pairings, more hotness, and more characters for your character to run around glomping.  Besides, who wouldn’t want to see Link fighting side by side with Legolas?  Mmmm, sexy.
Suggested by ~shoelesswandere

~Sabreur is making me include this disclaimer. "If you actually believe in rules 1-10, please identify yourself to the genepool improvement association immediately."

There. I'm done. And remember - I write fanfiction myself. It is my tried and true method of beating writer's block.
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You live to love.
You love to give.
You give your love.
Your love is big.
Your big heart smiles.
Your smile is bright.
Your brightness blinds.
You're blind to spite.
You spit at hate.
You hate to cry.
You cry to love.
Your love is fate.
Your fate is real.
You really try.
You try to love.
To love, you'd die.
For my Anti-Emo boy

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On the nature of Sithis
By Lily Surilie, a humble servant and a faithful daughter to our Dread Father and Unholy Matron

Everybody who has ever bothered to visit a library has surely noticed an outstanding number of researches dedicated to the Nine as well as to the Daedra, but hardly anyone has ever found a work uncovering the mystery of Sithis’s nature. This humble research was done to fill the regrettable gap in our theological knowledge. Some of my acquaintances were eager to prevent me from doing this research – part of them being convinced that the topic is of no interest, others believing the very idea would most surely rouse ire of our Dread Father. The former are very wrong for there is no such topic which is of no interest to a devout scholar, as for the latter… well, I shall be the first to know if Sithis is displeased with my work.

One of the first questions one faces when entering the Dark Brotherhood is: What is Sithis? The answers are numerous varying from “the cold dreadful Void, resembling of a starless night deep in Jerall mountains” to “a voice whispering in one’s ears when he (or she) fulfills the will of the Night Mother”. Both are true – in a way – and still are most probably not the whole truth. According to the scarce bits of information available, we may assert that Sithis is strongly associated with darkness, void and chaos; that he gets the souls of those killed in his name; that he is powerful enough to cast his Wrath upon infidels and traitors, but still needs a go-between to interact with the material plan of the Mundus, this intermediary being the Night Mother herself; that he belongs neither to the Aedra nor to the Daedra. The last statement seems to be of the particular interest, for it arouses another important questions: What are the origins of Sithis and How does he fit in the harmonious imperial theological system?

The history of Sithis’s worship is closely connected with the history of the Dark Brotherhood. Most scholars agree that originally the Dark Brotherhood was a small group that broke away from Morag Tong in the beginning of the Second Era. The following development of the Brotherhood is not to be discussed here, for it mainly concerns political strife throughout the history of Tamriel, but not the sources of Sithis’s cult. The most popular theory of the origin of Sithis is that He is an incarnation of one of the Daedric princes, presumably Methala. Indeed, this hypothesis has some convincing argument. First, Methala is a patron of secrets, sex, assassination and of art (apparently of sex and assassination). Her (though Methala is believed to be bisexual, this Daedrot is generally referred to as a she) sphere perfectly coincides with that of Sithis, except for sex. So it is quite intelligible why Sithis is sometimes supposed to be a personification of the masculine nature of Methala. Second, it is Methala who is also believed to be the Morag Tong’s patron. As the Dark Brotherhood has once been a sect within Morag Tong, it’s natural to presume that, again, Sithis is only some kind of Methala’s misinterpretation.

However, due to the evidence I managed to find in some rare sources, I am convinced that the “Methala avatar” version is not true. According to Tarnatos Manuscripts, recently discovered by Nohept dir’Camal, Sithis came to existence when a nihilist Kimer sect of Psjjjjic order united Daedric elements with Ineffable Action under the Methala’s supervision. Thus Sithis is somehow connected with Psjjjj, which is a special notation of unknowable and inexpressible notion of Primeval Chaos – or Padomai (generally it is said that Psjjjj is not Padomai, but some unintelligible action by Anu – still I am not going to discuss this most complicated topic here). This seems quite a convincing hypothesis, especially if you keep in mind that the most probable etymology of our Dread Father’s name, “Sithis”, also lies in originating from “psjjjj”.

Here comes the time for my guess-works. Common theory is that there are two initial essences, Anu, the Light and Order, and Padomai, the Darkness and Chaos. My idea is that Anu is the Light and Padomai is the Darkness all right, nevertheless, the chaos-order opposition is, so to say, square with light-darkness couple. Hence there is a “lawful darkness” as well as a “chaotic light”. To my mind, Sithis is a substance of chaotic darkness – or cold void, “willing to kill the Mundus” (Tarnatos Manuscript, 27:14), while Daedra are creatures of lawful darkness.
So, finally I have said it. I am quite prepared for the flow of criticism, which is likely to pour down on my head, but I am not going to change my mind in favor of more popular and widespread theories. Dixi.
Here it is, an article about Sithis by Lily Surilie, my Oblivion charachter. I've tried hard to copy an awful style, in wich most of the research papers are written. Hope I've succeeded. =D

Of course, Oblivion, Sithis etc. are all Bethesda's inventions, blah-blah-blah.

As for the information given in this article, it is quite truthworthy, because I DID a research. I've read something on Psjjjjic order and all the stuff, and the "Tarnatos Manuscript" mentioned above is among the supplementory information provided by the TES IV creators.

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This is a bard song for Skyrim.

It is lore-friendly: these events did happen in the canon lore of the Elder Scrolls.

I thought that the past deeds of both the Stormcloaks and the Empire could do with a bit more emphasis in the game; especially if you want to make an informed decision when joining the civil war...

This has the same rhyme scheme as existing in-game songs, such as Ragnar the Red or The Age of Aggression/Oppression.

:bulletgreen: Art and poetry commissions are open! - details here.
:bulletpurple: tumblr

Art and Lyrics ©Liefesa
Original game ©Bethesda
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