Works in Challenges/Collections
Listing Works
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The antelucan swell of stars took up the sky above them. Crowding their visions were the thick, black trees, which bowed like acolytes deep in prayer. In the heavens, the constellations took their shapes. If one stopped for a moment and configured them together, they might be able to spot specifics, but the clouds winnowed through the air with the leisurely stroll of a storm not quite ready to brew yet. The grass trod under their boots like lonesome horses hooves. They'd thought of taking a carriage for the journey, in fact, and could imagine in the waning light of the lantern the procurement of passage down the dark roads, and the gold changing hands, and the hours passed, able to sleep.
Nearly a year since arriving in Skyrim, the three Last Dragonborns make camp outside of Falkreath, and ruminate on their origins.
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The Most Loyal Companion by AngelofAftermath
Fandoms: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Elder Scrolls
18 Aug 2024
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Meeko had been the most loyal companion. His friend had told him so. Yet, the stench in the cabin is growing, and the smell of a stranger is enough of a lure to pull him from his friend's side, if only for a moment.
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The door creaked open, budged against by a figure. Alarm ran through the air, the holes in the wood like many eyes which faced the blonde woman, whose armor burned against the pale of Morthal with black and red hues. She pushed and grunted until the door flung open like a mouth, and made a slow walk into the home. The woman spoke to herself, and adjusted her cowl as she gathered tinder and gave the hearth a fire. The first one in many years, though the shack knew not how long. The flames lit, crackling as dust burnt away, and the room gathered warmth in bundles. She stood a while, stretching, seating herself near the fire, and breathing in the cold air.
She would leave shortly after this moment. A few hours later, she would return with another person, with their head covered by a sack.
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This was not a position that Elisif had ever wanted to find herself in: High Queen of a broken country, a widow, and the bond which held her land together. But it was she who wore the jagged crown, and it was she who held the burden of its office.
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Maybe Athenath preferred to work alone. Guidance was an unnecessary burden on their shoulders, and when they thought about the hassle of having to sit by and listen to someone drone on and on about the importance of certain objects and not getting caught and all the shit they'd learned on their own ages ago, they wanted to gag. Plus, it didn't exactly pay him well. Something about the old ways of their guild must have been long, long forgotten. Fair share was a laughable suggestion. And teamwork was debatable, or downright nonexistent, depending on the person.
Or, how a future Last Dragonborn acquired their prized instrument.
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Upon The Shoreline by AngelofAftermath
Fandoms: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls
14 Aug 2024
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See, here, the ship. The broken wood, the splintered underbelly sliced open upon the rocks like elk, strung up for harvest. See also the ghost, which lingers on the nearby shore like a warning, a lighthouse illuminated far too late.
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Summary
Money in the Rift changed hands as often as the leaves were gold, which was to say, a perpetual flow of currency ran like rivers through the hold. Riften was the cornerstone, the foundation of trade in the autumnal region, caravans and merchants from all across Skyrim - and some, brave or foolish, from beyond - traveling the floors of the long-armed realm, stretching over mountains and valleys and lakes. Of course, the Black-Briar family played more than a small role in the shifting tides of commerce, but who was Brynjolf to object when so much of this coin fell into his pockets?