Welcome to my attempt at running a quest about restoring the Falmer from their state as wretched monsters to proud residents of skyrim.

I'll go more in depth later, but for now just some OOC stuff.
I'm going to try and put out the first few posts quickly in the next few hours, first to three is fine so I can get some momentum going and clear "character creation".

After that I want to make a post every 2 days.
And I didn't draw that art, so don't expect any drawings of mine.

>>6379610
>He rises again, the first breath of royalty breathing out makes the world tremble, the blessings of the soul of The Fixed Center weave and flow through this new body and with understanding comes the understanding of the power of the Tongues.
>Nilibor
It is WE who shall upend the Nordic usurpers, WE who shall make right their ancestral wrongs, WE who shall turn their speech against them so utterly that they are left as less than dust.

>>6379610
>Vythis
>He rises with a spear in hand, gleaming with unearthly white light. The spear of Encroaching Frost, a relic of bygone days that bites with the chill of winter and renders those it strikes more vulnerable to the cold.

calling in 20 minutes and doing a coin flip.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6379642

Nilibor, Prince of Snow. Herald of Dynasty, Great storm-throat, You are so charged; Mend what has long laid asunder. Repair my Temple. Rebuke the long death that is almost complete. In this you are Ours.

The great words wash through the dark room like a physical weight that pushes you to one knee in reverence, the mandate of your task brings a gust of air which sweeps up dust from the flagstones which make up the floor. It is cool here, that of a tomb rather than a cave, the distinction doesn't fill you with any great comfort. Taking a breath, your eyes flicker closed and you speak.

"Liz Drun Krah"
The specks of dust and sand ice over and fall to the floor, stone covering over in hoarfrost as the temperature of the room drops to a comfortable span below freezing, your bare form feeling nothing but the nostalgic embrace of the northern glaciers of Solthsiem. The imagery is almost real in your minds eye as you speak, the understanding fueling the illusion until it is reality.
The power of the Tongues, the arts of the butchers who sundered you and yours from hearth and home. The sting in your throat is enough to temper the thought of the great displays of city shattering cries, You have time yet to improve.

Your body straightens as the light fades, your eyes opening and they are unhindered by the absence. Gleaming sapphire orbs cut through the dark, picking out the stone and the carved insets for the nordic dead to sleep, all thankfully empty due to times careless advance.

As you look to begin scavenging for some clothes, the air shimmers again in a haze of memory and twinkling star light. Alongside some fine travelling robes, Another of the pantheon has deemed fit to provide you a tool to your uplifting.

>Pick 1

>Sacrifice of Syrabane and Xrib, a ritual using the soul of a Feral and a mix of their poisoned mushrooms to remake another into a Reforged Falmer. The cost in blood is high, but it requires ritual rather than talent and reagent rather than power. Suitable to all whom you can teach it too, but your heart rends to those miserable souls that must be sacrificed to enable another's rise. Of benefit, the ritual lasts only an hour.

>Honoured Crown of Trinimac and Phynaster: A crown of wrought ivory and gold embedded with a ruby over the brow this artifact is clear in it's divine craftsmanship. From it's touch flows knowledge, there is nothing honorable in slaughtering your people to benefit a fraction but neither can what is utterly ruined be made clean, and with a spell of godly complexity that flee's from your attempts to comprehend it you may make something pure. The cost is a good chunk of your magical strength, perhaps a tenth per use, and the spell may only be performed while wearing the crown but it will transform the children and the teenagers of the Feral into Reforged Falmer over a day of sleep. Of benefit however is that they will be of improved magical and physical aptitude.

>>6379683
>The Shrine of awakening, Magnus and Xarxes give you the words, the secret words, that rend the world but once. In it's place there stands a familiar yet altered form of a wayshrine. This great structure leads to nowhere, but those of the Feral that step inside are remade in an instant, their forms unwound and Reforged with the speed of a master conjurer summoning forth a daedra from the still waters of oblivion. Alas the stars fuel this great edifice and it's capacity is limited, a mere hundred souls may be reforged before it requires time to recharge. Every feral reforged costs a day and a night's worth of energy. And of course, you only have the one.

As you take in this great gift and it's ramifications, you ponder long on the fate of your people. You are an exemplar, the finest example amongst the Ancient Falmer and named for one of the great pilgrims who became one with The Fixed Center himself. Like all your people, your talent for Ice magics and destruction is nearly unparallel and in conjunction you are- were one of the foremost mages of your age in matters of destruction, your spearwork well regarded as veteran expertise. How can you handle it if your people are even worse than you are led to suspect?
Though you do not know what exactly has befallen them, you know that your people have become base Feral creatures, and though you love your kind you. . .

>Pity them, that they will have never known the crytal spires of Kethwish, or the great bridge of snowflakes.
>Hate them, for they are ruined things that you must right. The very idea of allowing their parody of self to remain is intolerable.

Falmeris muttering comes easy to your lips as you clothe and bind yourself in comfortable sky blue travel robes, sans shoes and gloves with your hood drawn up high. Stepping forwards and pushing open an ancient cheddar wood door, the cold behind you is replaced by the relatively warm air of the rest of the first city of Atmoran's. You stride in silence, your footfalls muted and your senses peeled, the faint echo's of the scrape of wood on stone is enough for you to map out tunnels ahead, the seismic sense of vibrations meeting your foot from movement ahead painting a picture of something stomping around up ahead, heralded by the reek of chemical preserves. Hearing, touch, smell, these in tandem form a mental image as clear as any divination spell of the Draugr about to step around the corner to investigate the noise you had made.
And with that pre-warning, you saw out the next few seconds in just as clean a detail. The white light of cold forms upon your left hand, and as the thing's head moves around the corner

>>6379684
THUNK.

The undead corpse slams backwards into the wall, adhered by the frozen ice spike through it's throat as it's own glowing eyes fade away into dust filled eyesockets.
And then there are the Atmoran's and the Dwemer. You had thought the Dwemer allies, cousins at the very least, but they had betrayed your people and their covenant? You ponder the matter as you step past the corpse, senses straining. The deep elves had ever been strange, valuing alien values but why would they turn upon you all? You had met and entertained many of them in matters of diplomacy yourself!

>What are your feelings on both of these races, Free write in.

>Which field had you studied and mastered/traded with the Dwemer.
>Farming: You had advanced the field in several ways. Food always flowed whenever your attention turned to the fields and the underground city states had always been appreciative of new ways in which to defeat the killing frosts or multiply the bounty of arcane reagents.
>Construction: You were a city builder and fortress designer, your command of the ice refined to such degrees that entire castles could be conjured from the perpetual snow squalls that blew over the sea of ghosts. You shouldn't be surprised if upon returning to the surface you find one or more of your creations still holding strong against entropy.
>Tonal architecture: A quick wit and quicker study, the mysteries of Dwemer engineering were not half as mysterious as many thought. At least for you, and your skill may have only been average with it but that was more than enough to be exceptional for a non-dwemer, the principles of harmonic metallurgy and steam powered resonators had made you a close confidant of several high ranking ambassadors. Or so you thought.

>>6379683
>Honoured Crown of Trinimac and Phynaster: A crown of wrought ivory and gold embedded with a ruby over the brow this artifact is clear in it's divine craftsmanship. From it's touch flows knowledge, there is nothing honorable in slaughtering your people to benefit a fraction but neither can what is utterly ruined be made clean, and with a spell of godly complexity that flee's from your attempts to comprehend it you may make something pure. The cost is a good chunk of your magical strength, perhaps a tenth per use, and the spell may only be performed while wearing the crown but it will transform the children and the teenagers of the Feral into Reforged Falmer over a day of sleep. Of benefit however is that they will be of improved magical and physical aptitude.
A raiment most righteous, most pure. With this, the resurrection of our race is yet possible. Given time. Ruinous, gnawing time.

>>6379684
>Pity them, that they will have never known the crytal spires of Kethwish, or the great bridge of snowflakes.
How far are we fallen? How distant are those ancient days? Our race, once beautiful and brilliant beyond compare, now lays scraping in the dust and hissing at shadows. An affront to ancestral memory, one that is our burden to amend.

>>6379686
>Tonal architecture: A quick wit and quicker study, the mysteries of Dwemer engineering were not half as mysterious as many thought. At least for you, and your skill may have only been average with it but that was more than enough to be exceptional for a non-dwemer, the principles of harmonic metallurgy and steam powered resonators had made you a close confidant of several high ranking ambassadors. Or so you thought.
The Dwemer. Oh, the Dwemer... their secrets were strange, their proclivities moreso, and now, they are gone. No matter. Their age-old secrets will find new use with us.

Another anon should come up with the racial relations. It has been years since I've played Skyrim and I'm not versed enough in the lore to make a call on it.

>>6379704
the Intro gives most of the tale, albeit in an attempt at dramatization.

But to cut a long story short, as Nilibor Knows it.
The atmoran's come from Atmora, a distant land across the seas and they settled in the north of the continent where the only eternal constant is Ice and Snow. [I'm gonna use those two words a lot this quest, Like skyrim in the mythic era was just all snow, all the time, with weird magical storms. If you remember winterhold from the games? multiply that over everything except the reach.]

Anyway, the nord's ancestors settled there and for rumour that they had recovered some world rending prize, the Snow elves attacked and wiped out their settlements to reclaim whatever was being held there. Only 3 men escaped the slaughter and fled back to Atmora.
A few years later the survivors come back with 500 buddies and they just start killing. And they lay waste to the thousands, hundreds of thousands die to 500. Ysgramor, first great chief of Skyrim and his companions spend a few decades killing every falmer he can find in revenge, cutting their ears into trophies, burning their homes. He is still historically like the 2nd greatest killer of elves in history.

they eventually corner the last army of the falmer in Solthsiem, A then-part of the mainland, in the battle of Moesring Mountains and the two sides maul eachother.
The Snow prince, the last hero of the Falmer, almost turns the tide before a 12 year old girl threw her dead mothers great sword and it slammed through his breast, killing him and routing the falmer. Those who stayed were slaughtered, those who ran died tired.

The rest of the race either took refuge with the dwemer or got mopped up later.
And we all know what happened to the one's who sheltered with the Dwemer.

>>6379686
>Honoured Crown of Trinimac and Phynaster
It also makes for a fine symbol of the snow elves return and our divine right to rule.

>Pity them, that they will have never known the crytal spires of Kethwish, or the great bridge of snowflakes.
It's not their fault they're all ugly bastards.

>What are your feelings on both of these races, Free write in.
>The Atmorans, as brutish and repugnant as they are, were merely foes. We warred with them and lost but I cannot pretend we would not have done the same to them had we won. Still, Aedra willing, we will reclaim our home from those savages. As for the Dwemer? It was foolish of us to trust such a godless and arrogant race to begin with. The only thing worse than those who revere daedra, are those who think themselves above the divine entirely.

>Construction
The irony of us using the dwemer's science and technology to resurrect our own dead civilization atop the corpse of theirs would be funny. But we're a SNOW elf.

>>6379746
I support this

>>6379683
>Honoured Crown of Trinimac and Phynaster: A crown of wrought ivory and gold embedded with a ruby over the brow this artifact is clear in it's divine craftsmanship. From it's touch flows knowledge, there is nothing honorable in slaughtering your people to benefit a fraction but neither can what is utterly ruined be made clean, and with a spell of godly complexity that flee's from your attempts to comprehend it you may make something pure. The cost is a good chunk of your magical strength, perhaps a tenth per use, and the spell may only be performed while wearing the crown but it will transform the children and the teenagers of the Feral into Reforged Falmer over a day of sleep. Of benefit however is that they will be of improved magical and physical aptitude.
>Pity them, that they will have never known the crytal spires of Kethwish, or the great bridge of snowflakes.
Ultimately, their fate was due to betrayal by the Dwemer.
>Tonal architecture: A quick wit and quicker study, the mysteries of Dwemer engineering were not half as mysterious as many thought. At least for you, and your skill may have only been average with it but that was more than enough to be exceptional for a non-dwemer, the principles of harmonic metallurgy and steam powered resonators had made you a close confidant of several high ranking ambassadors. Or so you thought.
As much as I want to stick with elvish specialties were are going to be grossly outnumbered and most of our brethren are degenerated savages. Even when restored they'll eventually reclaim our old specialties. Until than using the dwemer tools and ruins will be required to keep a low profile and rebuild. Except for a certain fat Dwemer in Morrowwind its not like anyone can challenge us for control over those mechanisms.

Racially wise the pain of being betrayed by our fellow Mer hurts more than the war against Man. After all, we ultimately picked that fight and lost against mankind. Fair is fair in a any war, much less one between races. Getting betrayed by our own kin however is a VERY different story, especially for what they did. Also, we don't yet know about the fact that Man has been divided into different subspecies yet, and technically speaking our grudge's closest bearers are the Nords otherwise it would still be with the Atmorans. While the dwemer are gone and the humans we hate/warrged against most are also long dead.

So honestly, we are quite the pickle in terms of racial views and vengeance. The ones we could avenge ourselves on are long dead. In terms of race enough time has passed that we cannot even consider Man of all beings the same as the old Altmorans, either that we were familiar with. Not even the Nords would qualify. Also the connection to Altmora has also been lost. The last people who went there were an Imperial family member and a certain Morrowind protagonist. Meanwhile the Dwemer also drove themselves to extinction for their own hubris too. So who is left to blame?

>>6379825
So racially tension-wise...I can easily see our protagonist being deeply DEEPLY confused and bitter when he finds out what happened to the Dwemer and Altmorans. It's impossible avenge the snow elves anymore, goddamn it. Punish the Nords? The Nords are no Altmorans as much as they like to claim to be the most pureblooded descendants of theirs. While the Dwemer are extinct from their own hubris. We cannot claim vengeance unless we somehow rediscover the route back to Altmora itself.

The bigger problem would be the Imperials, Altmer, and those dragons.

The best we can hope for is trying to rebuild and restore the snow mer. Vengeance...we lost our chance for revenge unless we find Altmora.

>>6379704
Racially, all those we hold grudges with are long extinct. So we are very much caught with our dick in hand with nobody left to fuck over. The closest we have to blame are the Nords(still not Altmorans) and maybe the Altmer as replacements for Dwemer, with how much of an asshole they became. I wouldn't be surprised if we note their similarity to Dwemer especially when we find out what they have been doing to other people. That would bring back some very bad memories and comparisons to us quite easily. Other Mer we would still be fine with but probably sad about what happened to the Adaleids who also bit the dust but maybe they also have a failsafe like us?

For Man I imagine we may have some dislike for them on account of our grudge against their ancestors. Particularly the Nords who like to claim they are the closest to Altmora making them easy targets for us to make fun of because we actually DID know the Altmorans and can easily tell the difference between them for insults.

No reason to feel anything different about the beast races. So neutral? Dragons do be trouble, though.

>>6379829
>>6379825
Thalmor not Altmer. I forgot how to spell.

File: Altmer.png (18 KB, 527x594)

18 KB PNG

>>6379825
>>6379829
>The last people who went there were an Imperial family member and a certain Morrowind protagonist.
Nah both Uriel V and the Nerevarine went to Akavir not Atmora. Nobody has been to Atmora since very early in 1st Era when a final wave of Atmoran migrants arrived in Skyrim. It was likely destroyed or otherwise rendered uninhabitable somehow like Yokuda was and all the Atmorans fled to Skyrim. Maybe some ASoIaF white walker invasion type shit? Who knows.

>Vengeance...we lost our chance for revenge unless we find Altmora
As I mentioned, it's very likely that Atmora was completely abandoned. Even the giants fled to Skyrim with the Atmorans. So revenge is impossible unless we decide the Nords are close enough to our ancient foe for us to really hate them.

>maybe the Altmer as replacements for Dwemer, with how much of an asshole they became
The Altmer were always assholes. Not much has changed there.

>Other Mer we would still be fine with but probably sad about what happened to the Adaleids
The Falmer were devoted to the Aldmeri pantheon so I don't know if they'd be too torn up about the extinction of the hedonistic daedra-worshiping Ayleids who did all sorts of fucked up nonsense like injecting daedric spirits into people to get high off their blood, setting children on fire for fun or displaying tortured and mutilated slaves as living art pieces.

>For Man I imagine we may have some dislike for them on account of our grudge against their ancestors
If I recall correctly, not all Men are actually descended from the Atmorans. The Nedes (ancestors of Imperials and Bretons) were in Tamriel during the Merethic era and were possibly native to Tamriel alongside the beastfolk, but were definitely living all across Tamriel long before the Atmorans ever stepped foot in Skyrim. Nilibor would have only known the Nedes as tribals, reavers and slaves. The Redguards meanwhile are descended from the Yokudans who sailed from the west after they blew their homeland up and started committing genocide on everyone who wasn't them the moment they arrived.

>>6379683
>>6379684
>>6379686
>Honoured Crown of Trinimac and Phynaster: A crown of wrought ivory and gold embedded with a ruby over the brow this artifact is clear in it's divine craftsmanship. From it's touch flows knowledge, there is nothing honorable in slaughtering your people to benefit a fraction but neither can what is utterly ruined be made clean, and with a spell of godly complexity that flee's from your attempts to comprehend it you may make something pure. The cost is a good chunk of your magical strength, perhaps a tenth per use, and the spell may only be performed while wearing the crown but it will transform the children and the teenagers of the Feral into Reforged Falmer over a day of sleep. Of benefit however is that they will be of improved magical and physical aptitude.
>Pity them, that they will have never known the crytal spires of Kethwish, or the great bridge of snowflakes.
>Farming: You had advanced the field in several ways. Food always flowed whenever your attention turned to the fields and the underground city states had always been appreciative of new ways in which to defeat the killing frosts or multiply the bounty of arcane reagents.

While tonal architecture offers an alternative, generally all energy comes from food --> muscle power, or from nature e.g rivers or wind --> wind/watermills. If we're gonna rebuild our people, we'll want a strong foundation. Machines are obviously more efficient, but you need a lot of prerequisite things to be capable of producing them and sustaining those who do produce them.

>>6379857
Been forever since I checked the elder scroll archives and these days I don't trust it much thanks to how shitty the Elder Scrolls Online 'lore' was. To be honest my favorite lore period was pre Oblivion. We lost out on having a giant jungle full of dinosaurs and amazon tribes being the heartland of the Empire instead. That would have been far more awesome but nnnooo. We had gay ass Ayleid European medieval analog 2030442nd instead.

Been 20 years and I'm still mad about that. Ruining my alien fantasy world damn you Todd Howard. Morrowind is still the best Elder Scrolls.

>>6379704
>>6379746
>>6379793
>>6379825
>>6379875

Unanimous votes for Honoured crown of Trinimac and Phynaster, and pitying your degenerated kin, for it isn't their fault.

Tonal architecture: 2
Construction: 2
Farming: 1

I'll let the vote run for another hour and 15, then flip a coin.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6379895
1= Tonal architecture
2= construction

The divine crown weighs heavily upon your brow, the responsibility it represents like a millstone about your neck. Hope was a powerful thing made all the more precious by the harsh edge of knowledge that it is the only hope left to your people. Your steps carry quickly towards the distant promise of freedom, a sharp whistle or the slamming of a magical gale into the chest of a draugr warlord helping to map your way out from doomed and ruined Sarthaal, It's clear by the inhabitants that Ysgramor had at least returned to inhume his dead once he finished removing yours. At the very least you have some idea of where Auri-el has placed you, the north east of the country near the sea of ghosts by the city state of Afltand, your memory straying to the time where you had spent there amidst the glacial spire.

Deep, bone shaking resonant tones had run up and down the stone structure like a small earthquake, disorienting for you in particular who had far more exact senses than the greyish-blue skinned betrayer you had called 'teacher' who stood beside you. A flat headed hammer swung in rhythmic humming flow upon corrundum sheets as flame salts are tossed inbetween, handful after handful. The process was not akin to the smithing you knew or watched being craft before by the court artisans, it had a different kind of significance that only became stronger as you took up the humming song, hammer in swing at precise and obtuse angles, always hitting perfectly flat and making the ground sway while it stood as solid as it always is. By the time the moon rose the final notes had faded and there lay a flat expanse of dwemeri metal, cut and slot into decorative slabs by composition alone. It wasn't the first or last or most advanced lesson you had there, but it still held the greatest effect on you.

After what felt like an hour, finally your seismic sense revealed a crag threading down a collapsed corridor's roof and squeezing through it with hands and knees, it's only your knowledge of the way forwards that stops you from abandoning the way as an ignoble form of suicide. Cold, fresh air! The first stirrings of snow! you struggle faster, breathing in to get past a cramped S turn and then-

Your hand punches up through a quarter foot of snow, compressing it into ice with a quick and dirty application of magic before hauling yourself up. The Snow Prince returned in a small flurry of white, standing atop a glacier in the early morning sun. The wind feels good on your face and the crunch of snowflakes under foot is as reassuring as the eye of Auri-el above you which is all the comfort you can truly draw from the vista as a strange uncanny sense of wrong permeates it. The air seems. . . warmer than it had before while to the south east there rises a giant statue of Moon and Star among the mountain range, Had the Ayleid influence spread so far north?

>>6379916
The sky is overcast but clear rather than entangled in a storm of sleet and flakes, allowing you to see that the sea of ghosts is a few hour's trek north over the steep rises and falls of the ice shelf. If memory serves you right, north east is the atmoran landing post and while you cannot bring yourself to hate the barbarians for their actions both because they are long dead and you would have scoured them to the last if the roles were reversed, there is a possibility they have a settlement there which might make for uncomfortable questions asked as to why a Falmer would so brazenly walk amongst them.

Of course then there is west towards where your memory of Alftand is, a vast and open plane of white like the trek north but you couldn't see anything out there. While you don't feel hungry and water is everywhere, the prospect of finding the city-state erased from the face of the continent and having no supplies does not fill you with confidence.

>Where do you go?
>Towards the statue of Azura, it is a daedric shrine and they are not to be trusted, but they are probably not malicious. Plus it gives you a better view of the country from a mountain top.
>North to the Sea of Ghosts, it's a few hours away but from the coast you can catch some fish and get your mind in order. The terrain is what your people were made to thrive in, it'll be relaxing.
>North east to Hsaarik Head, at risk of finding a settlement of Ysgramor's descendents. A settlement is still a settlement.
>West, try to find Alftand. The dwemer city states are hardy things, though there's the risk of it's presence being gone like it's makers.
>West, strike out into the wilds and try to find something else.
>Write in

>>6379917
>West, try to find Alftand. The dwemer city states are hardy things, though there's the risk of it's presence being gone like it's makers.
Dwarfcraft will serve us well. We must be sneaky, lest the men overwhelm us before we can reclaim our homeland.

>>6379917
>Towards the statue of Azura, it is a daedric shrine and they are not to be trusted, but they are probably not malicious. Plus it gives you a better view of the country from a mountain top.
Maybe we can convince these lost souls to embrace the light of magnanimous Auri-El over their bitchy blue goddess. If not then we can at least gather some information about the state of Tamriel. I wonder if the Crown's power could undo Azura's curse and turn a Dunmer back into a Chimer?

You know, I doubt anybody would recognize us as a falmer and if they ask about our race then we can always just tell them that we're a maormer. Most people won't be able to tell the difference and it's easily more believable than the truth.

>>6380023
I think the last maomer was seen some time in the southern parts of the continent about 520ish years ago.
So really just slightly more believable

>>6379917
I'll admit I'm really torn between finding out about what happened to the Ayleids and what has changed over the three eons for info as we are quite literally flying blind or rush to the dwemer ruins for refuge/a base and to find our degenerated kindred.

I think finding out some info from the Daedric cultists on what has changed will be better. It will be far safer to acquire info and supplies from them than to head into a human settlement unless we find an orc clan. I would imagine we very much don't trust humans very much atm since we have no idea what has changed exactly right now. Plus, they might even know about the Dwemer ruins and the things that lurk in the caves and ruins.

>Towards the statue of Azura, it is a daedric shrine and they are not to be trusted, but they are probably not malicious. Plus it gives you a better view of the country from a mountain top.

>>6380023
I'm more curious about any Ayleid failsafe since ours got triggered but only the Daedric Princes or Gods would know that we might not be the only one.

Good idea on the obscure disguise. Only a history buff might notice something is off but Snow Mer is a very obscure topic given how long ago they went extinct. Still better safe than sorry. We'll just claim to be maomer when asked.

>>6380037
Oh, wait. We could just tell people we're a high elf with albinism.

>>6380050
>I'm more curious about any Ayleid failsafe since ours got triggered but only the Daedric Princes or Gods would know that we might not be the only one.
Meridia brought Umaril the Unfeathered back. He failed but that's just what happens when you piss off the Nine by sending daedra to murder their followers in their temples.

>>6380052
The Daedra aren't about to give up the Ayleids simply because the Ayleids made the golden age of Daedric cultists. So there is no way they are about to give up that easily. The Ayleids, unlike the orcs and Dunmer got actual results.

>>6379917
>>North to the Sea of Ghosts, it's a few hours away but from the coast you can catch some fish and get your mind in order. The terrain is what your people were made to thrive in, it'll be relaxing.

>>6380069
I don't think most of the daedric princes really care as much about being worshiped as the aedra do. Azura and Meridia might be the most eager to be worshiped since they're both petty, egotistical assholes. For other princes, fucking with mortals is usually either just a means to an end, a transaction or a fun hobby.

>>6379917
>Towards the statue of Azura, it is a daedric shrine and they are not to be trusted, but they are probably not malicious. Plus it gives you a better view of the country from a mountain top.

>>6380118
test, are we back?

Well!

That ruined my schedule something chronic.

>>6379974
>>6380023
>>6380050
>>6380087
>>6380118

Statue of azura: 3
Alftand: 1
Sea of ghosts: 1

Closing the vote now, Time to see how the Daedra got into your country.

Your eyes rake the land and it's pristine coat of white as you consider your options. Banking on the permanence of a betrayer was foolishness and you discard it out of hand, you need facts and certainties, and turning your gaze back towards the rising mountains, if there is one certainty that has lasted the ages it will be the vanity of the Daedra.

You do not see anyone on your hike from Sarthaal, each footfall earning you another step closer to the crags with only the wind for company devoid of an ice wraiths chime or wolves howl. A brief working of ice magic firms up powdery snow into hard blocks for you to climb, and after a mere hour and a half, you have passed an odd post with a bare corpse on it, scaled a sheer incline of sloping snow and now you come to the base of the statue.

It's even larger up close, some 40 meters from toe to crown, and as you crest the lip your eyes see that it has a plinth carved from mountain rock. And this Plinth is surrounded by tents of fur and fire pits, a small settlement that your mind takes quick to grouping and counting, returning some 34 or so.

The inhabitants are what make this truly odd, wrapped up in thick clothing rather than embracing the caress of the mountain gales, what you can see of them are like Mer, standing as tall as any Chimer but these beings had skin as grey as paper ash and eyes as gleaming red as rubies. Curious though they are, careless they are not.

A shout goes up from a short one, The pitch suggesting a child's voice, and 4 men emerge from the cover of the tents, flames flickering in the palms of one while the others bare axes and a bow. Defensive, Wary perfectly in keeping with expectations thus far.

"Greetings friends, I offer no harm"

The four look at one another in confusion, and some small hope you'd had that Falmeris was still surviving in some way is extinguished. Still what else could you use other than your own tongue-

Dark elf 1: "What do you want?"

>>6380237
Decades of practice keeps surprise off of your face, these words are strange and chopped rather than rolling and flowing, yet your mind parses them simply enough. Realisation is quick to manifest, Praise Auri-el and his foresight of your needs! In the span of two breaths, your tongue works the unfamiliar syllables with a natives fluency.*

"My apologies, I am a traveller and it seems that greeting is not in favour here. I was passing by and saw this great shrine, and wished to examine it further, I meant no offence."

The excuse is smooth and practiced, suspicions dimming slightly at your affable demeanour that you help along with a guileless smile. Another of these dark elves, Dunmer to use the usual convention of aldmeris naming, lowers their axe and waves you off.

Dunmer 2: "he's not a nord, and look at that Crown. Probably some kind of wizard, let's just leave him. He can't mess with the ceremony now."

Your interrogators demure amongst themselves a moment longer before flames gutter out and weapons are lowered.

Dark elf 1: "If you want to talk about the shrine, The priestess is up those stairs."

Curious and suspicious eyes remain upon you however you have made your way inside their perimeter. As directed, there are steps leading up to the foot of the statue that you could take to speak with the Priestess, but on the other hand that second Dunmer has wandered off back to a large bonfire with some of his kith and kin. Perhaps the lower levels of this cult would be more pliable to your questions.

>Speak with the priestess, She is doubtless to be shrewd and powerful if she is worth the title but she is also likely to be well informed.
>Speak with the lay members, they are suspicious but curiosity is a trait that can be applied both ways. And even common knowledge is more than you have at the moment.
>try and barter for some food [with who? With what?]
>write in

>>6380238
>Speak with the lay members, they are suspicious but curiosity is a trait that can be applied both ways. And even common knowledge is more than you have at the moment.
I don't want to listen some priestess of Azura start rambling on about fate and prophesy.

>>6380238
>Speak with the lay members, they are suspicious but curiosity is a trait that can be applied both ways. And even common knowledge is more than you have at the moment.

>>6380238
>Speak with the priestess, She is doubtless to be shrewd and powerful if she is worth the title but she is also likely to be well informed.

>>6380238
>>Speak with the priestess, She is doubtless to be shrewd and powerful if she is worth the title but she is also likely to be well informed.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>6380380
>>6380472
>>6380499
>>6380502
and a fifty fifty split.

rolling.
1= layity
2= priestess

The stairs leading higher hold your attention for a long moment. Azura's Priests were powerful seers by reputation and that would leave you on the back foot of any contest, so turning your attentions back to the bonfire you considered the people who were more likely to give you the answers you seek. The Dunmer huddle close to it's uncomfortable heat with a few of them even dipping their bare hands into the pit without any apparent discomfort, so you try and mimic their behaviour and sit next to the man who had waved an axe in your direction.

"So what's your name then friend?"

The dunmer looks at you with wary surprise, then nods back into the fire. "Morvane, I figured you would have gone up by now Stranger."

"Nilibor of Summerset isle is fine, I Just wanted to enjoy the fire for a moment, the heat isn't something I'm accustomed to but it is enjoyable." There is a muttering of agreement from your new interlocuter and you press forwards. "What's the celebration that I've missed? It must be an important one"[.i]

"Aye, Hogithum has just come and passed, most of us are from the Grey-Quarter of Windhelm so the trek is a long one-"
And the words start to flow with little more encouragement. Morvane is a dour cynic and once you have it figured out, you just need to nod and commiserate the foolishness of the Jarls who rule this country, their rumoured indiscretions, the fault of the merchants for their prices and amidst it all come the rumours that the High King has been Murdered, the building tension around a rabble militia in 'the rift and eastmarch', The man has many many complaints and he lacks all of the training and fortitude of a diplomat to defend himself against your gently provocations and guiding insinuations.
By the end of the matter you have a good grasp on the various holds Jarls and their exports [and the dissatisfactions Morvane has with them] but the two most interesting tidbits you manage to pry are that there has been a built up city co-opted over, Nchuand-Zel and this Jarl Igmund has put out runners to every corner of Skyrim that they are seeking brave sellswords to work on an eradication crusade of the reachmen. Some things ill change it seems. You don't ask further about the reachmen, there isn't an opening without revealing the ignorance of one who claims to be well travelled.

The conversation has been going for an hour by this point, and the fire has begun to grow dim.
"So then Nilibor, Since you've seen the statue of our Lady where's too next?"

"Oh here and there, what did you have in mind?"

>>6380541
"About half of us are taking two days travel down the mountain and roads back to windhelm, you seem like a capable sort. If you can handle yourself then 20 septim for working protection and breakfast and dinner for it, what you say?"

>Travel south to Windhelm with the convoy, it will earn you some money and take care of your meals for two or three days.
>Haggle, you don't have much reference for the value of a 'Septim' but your protection can command much greater prices if you reveal your mastery of destruction. How much these people can pay is of another consideration.
>Refuse, travelling in a convoy will just slow you down and make for a target of brigands [Go where?]
>Do something else [Write in]

>>6380543
>Travel south to Windhelm with the convoy, it will earn you some money and take care of your meals for two or three days.

>>6380543
>Travel south to Windhelm with the convoy, it will earn you some money and take care of your meals for two or three days.
Perhaps it's best to learn a bit of this world before we reclaim it.

>>6380543
>Travel south to Windhelm with the convoy, it will earn you some money and take care of your meals for two or three days.

>>6380543
>>Travel south to Windhelm with the convoy, it will earn you some money and take care of your meals for two or three days.

Unanimous for windhelm
Locking, post up in a few hours.

Currency was a boon regardless of the age and while you never had much need to handle it personally, dim memories of the comforts it brought as well as the lessons of the court had tutored you on the avenue of power that an economic nation could wield. None of it held much prominence in your mind beyond the basics though, your interests in steam and steel holding your passions.

"Travel in good company is travel much improved."

Morvane: "Good mer. We will be moving off after breakfast, so you can help yourself."

The rest of the afternoon passes without incident, being introduced to Morvane's family and neighbours you would be shepherding down the mountain. 40 souls with 6 and yourself who know what they are doing with their weapons or queer affinity for flames acting as guardians, were this a caravan of any value beyond their lives you would be concerned about banditry in the political instability that a potential civil war brings. Instead your concern is that an ice wraith or blizzard atronach will bear down from the snow for some target practice.

Well there's no use worrying about it until it happens, and as the many dunmer return to their tents to rest, you take a seat near the edge of the peak and doze. The landscape sprawled before you is the unfamiliar of a pet spider left in the care of another for some years, the mountains' shape altered by wind and rain, sections of the sea so many miles away curving along unfamiliar coasts. . . and far in the distance, enough that you might be mistaken with the clouds, the dull smear of browns and greens that say the snow may not tresspass beyond the north.
The winds sing you into sleep, until the camp stirs with the rising of the sun anew.

The Dunmer fare is simple and easily carried, crusty berrybreads and jams that the cold doesn't freeze while the restoked fires are tended to heat a rather strong spiced drink that you find more bitter than pleasant. Breakfast finished quickly and tents collapsed into portable rolls, the Cultists of Azura bid their fellows fare well and your group begins to descend the mountain, treacherous slush and steep inclines mitigated by the use of walking sticks and slow, careful placement of their feet. At several points you have to help members of the caravan, your seismic awareness giving the impression of omniscience as you pull a man away from a powdery drift that sat lightly over a deep hole, another time saw a woman lose her balance over a rock and her pack send her the rest of the way towards careening down the slope which you managed to halt after a mere meter of skidding.
Still, while theoretically dangerous, the trek down the mountain side was done in the day, without a storm and with conditions like that you don't lose any of your passengers. Morvane even sees fit to make a jape about Azura's favour fating for a smooth journey. Your good fortune ends soon after reaching a pocketmarked and line of cobbled stones that an Atmoran may call a "road".

>>6380970
The blizzard starts quickly with fat snowflakes the size of pebbles and only escalates in the intensity until your effective range of sight has shrunk from hundreds of meters to 2. Your feet slap on crunching snow as often as stone or ground up slush, your connection to the ground and fine sense of hearing allowing you to make up for the deficit of your eyes, but the situation isn't looking good for the dunmer.

Their inexperience as a group shows, the brave and the stupid are powering on up ahead while those with families are bunching up in a tangled mix of hands and securing rope, while those elders who are alone are flagging further. The tight group of 40 is beginning to turn into a long line of 2's and 4's, and making matters worse the "guards" other than yourself are allowing the defensive parameter to shrink as they prioritise staying close to those they can see or their families while the rest float away.
Unless something is done, several lives are going to be lost.

>What will you do, Nilibor?
>Find a nearby empty cave and herd them into cover until the blizzard passes over. It'll take some unknown amount of time but it's the safest
>Gather up those falling behind and those racing ahead, force them together as they endure the blizzard. The going will be slow and the weaker members will be tried harshly but progress will be made
>Let the fools run off, it's their own faults.
>Leave the slow behind, focusing your efforts on those who are most likely to be able to keep up.
>Try and turning your command of ice magic against the storm. Destruction is not the peaceful sphere but even a weapon has more uses than just killing.
>Write in.

>>6380971
>Find a nearby empty cave and herd them into cover until the blizzard passes over. It'll take some unknown amount of time but it's the safest
How did any dunmer ever think migrating to Skyrim was a good idea? It's the polar opposite of Morrowind, climate-wise.

>>6380971
>>Find a nearby empty cave and herd them into cover until the blizzard passes over. It'll take some unknown amount of time but it's the safest

>>6380971
>Find a nearby empty cave and herd them into cover until the blizzard passes over. It'll take some unknown amount of time but it's the safest
The dunmer are not suited to such conditions.

>>6380971
>Find a nearby empty cave and herd them into cover until the blizzard passes over. It'll take some unknown amount of time but it's the safest

>>6381028
Closing.
Finding a cave!

>>6381028
It was either Skyrim or going to the argonians, or even worse, the mongrel dogs of the empire

>>6380971
>Try and turning your command of ice magic against the storm. Destruction is not the peaceful sphere but even a weapon has more uses than just killing.
Nilibor can't barely see his feet in this circumstance. Unless there is a cave luckily placed a few meters ahead, finding one is going to be impossible at worst, too time consuming at best. For Azura's nipples, he's a wizard, not a helpless traveller, it's time for him to show off a little

>>6381359
So a choice between people you've occasionally warred with over the millennia, overgrown monitor lizards who hate you for enslaving them and people who might give you dirty looks because of your religion but otherwise treat you fairly?

>>6381366
That might have worked if we'd chosen Construction over Tonal Architecture since Construction would have had us be an unrivaled master of cryomancy. Hell, we could have just made our own shelter out of ice.

>Unless there is a cave luckily placed a few meters ahead
Obviously Nilibor wouldn't know this but if we're on the road between Windhelm and Azura's shrine that passes by Fort Kastav then there is actually a cave just up ahead conveniently placed right next to the road. And it's full of falmer :)

My apologies to you anons, The post is going to be delayed. Cold medicine and fatigue do wonders for knocking you out.

>>6381442
>So a choice between people you've occasionally warred with over the millennia
everyone occasionally wars with another every few decades, not something to be angsty about
>overgrown monitor lizards who hate you for enslaving them
yes
>and people who might give you dirty looks because of your religion but otherwise treat you fairly?
imperials came uninvited to morrowind one day, and made themselves the bosses because of the tribunal being the tribunal. some dunmer might hate them in the same way you might hate that uninvited guest who wont leave
>That might have worked if we'd chosen Construction over Tonal Architecture since Construction would have had us be an unrivaled master of cryomancy. Hell, we could have just made our own shelter out of ice.
Oh, well
>And it's full of falmer :)
I see where this is going, with the crown and all
>>6381454
its ok, take your time as needed

The storm is getting uncomfortably strong, though you would be able to endure it as an argonian would endure a torrential down pour, your wards are not so well adjusted. Riding out the blizzard in a cave would do them better than blindly fumbling into a death trap. The first step then was consolidation.

Pushing off at a sprint, you become a pale specter against the white hell that surrounds you, the gale steals your voice when you call for the front runners to slow so instead you grab them by their cloaks and shout against fur clad ears. A few object to your plan but a reminder that they can no longer see the rest of their party is enough to cow them where your personal charisma falls short.

The forerunner so corralled, you find the mage with them and to your great relief he isn't a fumbling novice, cloaking himself in a dervish cloak of fire that should serve as a better rallying point than one without a light.
Leaving then to stomp their feet and shiver, you race back along the road with keen purpose, directing those you pass to head straight on where otherwise they start to drift off the road. But these people do not need your personal intervention, clinging tight to one another as they are, it's some 4 dunmer lagging behind as the cold gets into their limbs who you have to take by the arm and herd closer together.

What was that? Another ghost flickers through the shade, a glimpse of movement in the corner of your eye which the rest of your senses tells you never happened. Seconds pass again without it reappearing, and you can spare no more attention while your charges need help.

Step 2 then, with the group reformed they are bid to take hold of the one ahead and one behind while you think. The earth below feels solid, but there are some hollow irregularities, perhaps a mine of some kind?
So you lead them along towards the mountains again, following the feeling of the caves a few meters below the earth.

>>6381707
The winds quiet for a moment. Jephre's spirits taking a breath before resuming their wailing dirge and allowing for a dramatic scream to echo from the rear of the group.
You can see nothing and feel little more, so again bidding the group forwards you dash back towards the cry. The situation becomes clear as ice in seconds, One of the dunmer fallen on the snow as Morvane swings his axe at half seen tricks of the light, a trio of Ice wraiths circling like wolves about the wounded prey. Your usual tricks will be ineffectual against such monsters but it behooves a master to not focus on one style to the exclusion of all others. Magika flows into your hands and leaves as a precision bolt of lightning, a dull boom of thunder heralding the impact against one's side, raking a tally of ice shards from its flank. Morvane clobbers another with the broad side of his axe, slapping it's biting teeth aside. The last goes to take another bite from the fallen by slipping under Movane's clumsy guard. Bones made of ice leer with more malice than they should be able to express with just teeth and eyeless sockets.

Another dull boom sends a bolt of lightning into one of those sockets and the skull collapses into powder. Residual power arcs up, briefly stunning the other pair enough that the axe claims it's own kill, and you finish the problem with a 3rd and final bolt as the injured wraith tries to make you a meal, ducking low under the lunge and pumping the crackling energy down its throat.

[i]"Still able to stand warrior?[/i]

Morvane grunts, turning to heft up his fallen fellow. There isn't much blood, probably bitten just under the armpit. Proper examination would have to wait.
Morvane: "I got 'im, come on Nilibor"

Snatching some teeth from the snow, you reclaim your place at the head of the train and by the blessing of the pantheon you find a cave.

>>6381708
The first chamber opens wide enough for the group to sit down in, and torches to be lit. To look at them now, if you hadn't hunkered down then you have no doubt some would have been lost to the wraiths and frostbite. Their coats are thick but they shiver, clutching close to one another for warmth. The cave would warm by their presence, but your people never had such an adverse reaction to a light blizzard like that one, so further help you can offer escapes you.

The injured dunmer, as you expected, was bit clean with their grey skin turning purple as flash-freeze had set in. Tch, Restoration wasn't your best skill, so the best you can do is leave it to one of their folk remedies.

The cave entrance is close enough to hear the whistling of wind split off from the gale, and the cave descends deeper. While there is enough space here, now it's just a matter of time.
How do you spend yours, Nilibor?

>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.
>Practice your magick, you can keep an eye on the entrance of the cave but the storm isn't as hard on you as them. And you doubt anyone else is going to be there to get hit by a stray spell.
>Mingle, you aren't sure if you intend to stay overlong in Windhelm, but the group should surely have thawed enough to be amenable to you.

>Write in

>>6381709
>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.
It is foolhardy to assume we pilgrims are the only ones who would seek shelter here.

>>6381709
>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.

>>6381709
>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.

>>6381709
>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.

>>6381709
>>Explore the rest of the cave, Alchemy isn't your best subject but you are sure there are more than just mushrooms to find down here. If it is a mine, perhaps there is some gold, equipment or potions to be had.

>>6381829
>>6381850
>>6381992
>>6382047
>>6382112
Pretty unanimous, Locking.

Let's see what's under the earth.

Your eyes turn towards the descending slopes of the cave, where the air turned from frigid to merely cold by the insulating properties of miles of stone. There was no reason to assume that you were the first residents to take shelter, or even that the cave was currently uninhabited, the cavities underground you sensed outside were probably a miming operation after all.

The Dunmer would be safe for the moment with their torches and sentries. More than protective or contractual duty ushers you down, brushing aside a pebble as you set off into the dark, a powerful curiosity that grabs hold and asks in brash tone 'what has changed since your defeat?'. You make it several paces before Morvane shouts after you, confused by your apparent destination.

Morvane: "Where do you think you're headin'?"

[i]"The caves are most likely home to many other creatures, it would not due to be caught flatfooted."[/i]

A momentary hesitation crosses the man's scarlet red eyes before nodding in agreement.
"Then I'm coming with you, Can't see an icewraith from a yam down there." The tone brooked no argument so merely nodding in return, a torch was taken and the pair of you continue on with your exploratory venture. Grey stone and patches of moss make up most of the first two descending paths, the close, sloping roof of the cave forcing you to crouch slightly as you walk deeper into the underbelly of Skyrim. Spores hang in the air by the time of the 4th chamber, your nose leading you towards a small pile of white mushrooms growing quite comfortably out of a crevice, which you elect to leave alone after some due consideration, They might be poisoned after all.

On you continue, moving past more moss and trickles of ice water from stalactites above, something starts to wear on your curious spirit. You had suspected that a Mine was to cause for these caves, but you haven't found any evidence of quarrying at all. Perhaps nirn was merely being strange again, but-

>>6382278
You pause mid step, Morvane bouncing off your back with a guttering flicker of firelight over your shoulder. He speaks some words but they are lost with the sudden spike of energy that floods your legs and fingers, your eyes tracing a side path down the caves with great and terrible awe. Long fine silks are spun across meters of the side passage entrance, so thickly matted together that it looks like a pale wall crossed in black in the firelight. The size or number of spiders it must have taken to do that is unthinkable, the size of a mer or as multitudinous as the snowflakes outside, shivers breaking out down your spine like the multiple tapping legs of the little daedra-beasts.

You will not go this way, and you tell Morvane as much, setting no less than three runes of frosty death between you and the threads.

"Are you alright Nilibor? You're pale as. . well, you."

[i]"It's nothing, We just need to find a new way around."[/i]

"Hmm, A spiders brood is hardly the company I want down here either."

[i]"Just!. . Enough, Come on."[/i]

Moving on from that episode, you double back and find another route lazily meandering under the stone, when you sense something new ahead. Seismic senses bring you a peculiar sort of picture with a short, 3 feet wide and 4 and a half tall tunnel, cut through with harsh scraping tools. The stone still has scrapes and pebbles spread out around your feet like crumbs but there isn't yet sign of where the rest went. So crouching, you went forwards into the tunnel, hunched and moving at the speed of a sedate stroll into the gently twisting tunnel. The torchlight behind you marks the progress of Morvane as surely as his hissing exertion, but he has been a good sport about your exploration. Perhaps he too has an adventurer's soul in him.

It's with some relief that after an indeterminate amount of time you are able to stand up again, cracking your back and looking across a pleasant underground stream of water, about knee deep.

>>6382280
The whole area glows with a dim blue, your night eyes reading it as well as sunlight when you notice two very interesting things. The first is the area expanding out into a cave cavern of good size, enough that you could fit the pilgrims in it with room to spare and the walls were crowing these glowing blue fungi, mushrooms spreading like some artist's mad slashes over the canvas. You step through the water to get a better view and mount the edge of the stone that forms a shore, when your hands touch the stone the feedback sends your eye flicking to the other side of the cavern.

And the second interesting thing is a 4 legged scuttling insect appearing down the other end of the stream. It's a large thing, the size of a dog, with thick slick looking segmented carapace and two large clicking mandables shaped like curved daggers. You turn your head fully, and behind it, you spy a hunched gaunt figure with a bow, an arrow already drawing taunt while the insect prowls forwards with the faint and almost silent 'tic-tac-click' of it's feet on the stone. The feelings of pity spike like a dagger twisted in your chest, but this situation is about to turn bloody.

>What do you Do?

Formatting's fucked, damnit.

>>6382281
Hmm... an archer? Normally, a thing to skewer with an icicle, but something odd, something filial stays our hand. I suspect this is one of the falmer. We must of course be stealthy in our reclamation. If Morvane catches on, he'll spread rumours like wildfire. At the same time, he is an innocent that has done nothing to harm us. I have an idea.

>Throw a stone in such a way that it skitters and distracts the bowmer, then sneak back out
>Keep a close eye on the tunnel but watch the caravan until the blizzard is gone and they're ready to leave
>Go with them, and commit the location of this cave to memory

We will be back.

>>6382297
The insect sized like a dog is advancing on you and Morvane is climbing through behind you.

Retreat is a viable route, but that Beastie is going to be nipping on you like a hunting hound.

>>6382299
A fair point. Do we know any enchantment spells? Casting sleep on the beast could be quite useful. Failing that, I suppose the good ol' icicle bug, and scare off the falmer with a lightning bolt trick could work.

>>6382309
Illusion spells, agh. It has been many years since I've played Skyrim.

>>6382309
Nilibor's ability is predominantly destruction at a master level. Throw out a blizzard of your own? Switch it up with a fireball or a lightning strike? Disintegrate something with a touch? Right up your area. Preference given to Ice magics.

But despite that prodigious talent, it wasn't omnipresent.

Next is about "adept" skill in restoration, good for healing, a bit of restoring your Stamina or curing poisons but that's about it.

And the last of your talents lie in some basic alteration, Ice-skin and some transmutation between hard ice and powdery snow which is related to your cryomancy.

The rest of your magical abilities were not very well developed, instead time was given over to spear work, light armour, Acrobatics, sneak and speech.
And naturally, Tonal architecture and it's applications.

You are good at magic, but you didn't have the time or inclination for other schools.
Those being for clarity, Illusion, conjuration, enchanting, alchemy and mysticism

>>6382309
A sleep spell would probably be drain fatigue, which is actually destruction magic.

>>6382328
Closer to "inflict exhaustion" but being careful the effect is almost indistinguishable.

Nice thought

>>6382281
>Pull Morvane through and get him to hold off the insect.
>Intercept the incoming arrow with destructive magic, then counterattack the archer.
>Once we are sure the archer is incapacitated, kill the insect.
>Then go over to inspect the archer, see if he can be restored and interrogated. Or if he is a Falmer.

>>6382281
>Cast Iceskin, send a Blizzard towards the chaurus, and retreat back through the tunnel with Morvane.
>If possible, use destruction magic to collapse the tunnel behind us.
We don't need to clear the betrayed out, we just need to make sure they can't threaten our dunmer charges. It's not like we can save any children they might have with the dunmer present anyways. We can always come back for them later.

Just for confirmation, would it be possible to collapse the tunnel with destruction magic?

>>6382297
Keep in mind that the Crown's power only works on the children and teenagers of the Betrayed. We basically have no choice but to kill the adult falmer. It's really the merciful thing to do.

>>6382419
>send a Blizzard
Meant Icy Storm. That spell that sends an icy whirlwind forward.

>>6382419
Disintegrate is a destruction spell

Collapsing the tunnel will seal off the route back unless the Falmer redig their way again

>>6382543
>Disintegrate
Good call.

>Collapsing the tunnel will seal off the route back unless the Falmer redig their way again
They likely will, they dug the tunnel once already. We and our dark elf acquaintances will hopefully be in Windhelm sipping flin by then.

>>6382281
I'll switch to >>6382419 with the addition of using Disintegrate as the spell to collapse the tunnel behind us.

>>6382297
>Distract the archer and leave: 1

>>6382406
>Incapacitate the archer and inspect: 1

>>6382419
>>6382548
>leave and collapse the passage behind you: 2

I have some kind of consensus here.
Locking