When the dovahkiin disappears from the eyes of all, including the daedric princes, they decide to grit their teeth and work together. The champions ultimately chosen to gather the remainder to send them to Ivarstead, the meeting place, are the champions of Meridia and Mehrunes Dagon; Therazi Cairn-Bane and Baalla, respectively.
Wary of eachother as much as the other champions, they intend to fulfill their intended duties to the letter.
But is that all that waits for them?
Current Quest; Kallborn, Champion of Clavicus Vile.
(This is an adventure story based in the lands of TES:V Skyrim, with some notable changes in lore and interpretations of events. This is, ultimately, an AU- an Alternative Universe- of what happens in TES proper. People made slightly differing decisions in places, and now allyships that wouldn't otherwise have been made are set in motion. The Civil War has changed. Due respect for these changes is appreciated.)
[Start]
Extra information and yapping under.
Daedric Champions
Chapter Masterpost
The champion sheets will be updated as is relevant to what is publicly known. I am the sole artist (though not the sole, nor primary author) so some specific things may take time.
I may or may not be making it an ask blog simply so that I can justify putting my memes here & fiercely documenting a funny relationship chart, no siree I have innocent thoughts.
It is important to her that our emotions be engaged in her worship. And our love must also be directed inward. If we love her and hate ourselves, she feels our pain. I will, for all time, have no other mistress. —Sigillah Parate, Invocation of Azura
She is the daughter of Magrus, who loved only himself and his own creations. . . . Merid-Nunda is a cold spirit, born of light without love. She is intellect without wisdom, knowledge without purpose. —Amun-dro, The Adversarial Spirits
Had some thoughts about the differences between Azura & Meridia, who, if you read through them, sound like they do very similar things.
Transformed, warped, in front of her worshipper's very own eyes.
The firstborn son of Akatosh perches. Sharing a space with the chosen champion of a different sun diety, one who must defeat him- and her current charge, who has taken it upon himself to protect her.
Bellowing the disgusting cry of undeath.
The Champion of Mehrunes Dagon stands bravely against the predator of man as though she holds no fear.
The Champion of Meridia knows well what that expression on her face is, though.
"Well, Baalla would have a hard time doing that right now."
"Why's that?"
"You haven't heard? Ulfric made a deal with the forsworn, and the Empire responded by making a deal with the surrounding orc strongholds."
"He made a deal with the forsworn?" Since when did Ulfric Stoarmcloak sympathize with daedra worship?" Since when did the forsworn want anything to do with Talos?
"Probably since Talos worship started being prosecuted heavier."
"What did he even have to offer?"
"Land... if they could claim it."
But- "If he was just going to join hands with them in the end- wh-"
"You really weren't aware?"
"Why didn't this happen twenty years ago, when it could have actually helped? The rebellion's about over, now."
"- And- unfortunately for him, Orc strongholds are actually the better alliance."
"They're both warrior peoples, this much is true- but orcs have strongholds and resources outside of Skyrim, aswell- and so the empire can trade and make use of those aswell. This also could foster positive relations that can be used later, to turn on the Thalmor with."
"Meanwhile, Ulfric is basically riding off of the Forsworn sympathizing with his plight. Something which definitely won't last, cosnidering they've practically been waiting for this day, if 'The Madmen of The Reach' is to be considered accurate... and it's not like the two of them will be able to agree on the Empire or the Thalmor the same way orcs and the empire wi-"
(Written in a journal found tucked under a bed in the Bard's College of Solitude.)
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A woman, a proud hunter, and a man, a wealthy noble, took great joy in eachother's company while hunting together, and were soon enough wed. Children, of course, would follow- and soon the man found himself quite the homebody when once he was not.
Virtuously, the woman refused to accept any fur or leather that hadn't been hunted by a member of their little family. "I do not trust the gifts from other nobles," she claimed, "And I know nor whether the furs you have purchased were hunted in Kyne's name."
"My love," the man begged, as they lived in Morthal, where furred beasts were few and far between, "I cannot have you attend court in skeever and deer pelts." He could not leave for greater beasts, as their oldest was barely six winters along, and he wished for his children to know their father.
She refused, and continued purposefully being spotted in public- all finely embroidered fabrics and glittering jewels, nary a fur coat in sight. Soon, the men in town started to talk, and the women began approaching him to try to convince him to lay with them, as they believed she had fallen out of favor.
"My light," he pleaded, "Do you wish to see me dead? Our children would miss their father dreadfully, should I go to my death, hunting in Falkreath or the Rift."
And yet, she still insisted, purchasing for him poisons and guidebooks, and gifting the hunts she deemed 'lesser' to their children. Their youngest was swaddled in a fur worth a farmer's yearly income, and still she sat in his office, shoulders barren, even in comparison to some of the lesser nobles in other holds.
One winter day, the man came home with an expensive arrangement of fur-lined coats and shawls in which she was to meet with the Jarl in. "My dearest," He began a third time, which he intended to be final; "I beg of you- when our children grow older and I can be sure they will be safe without my guidance, I will hunt you a mighty, dangerous beast, and you will wear it.
Until then, point at just one of these to wear, for public appearances. That's all I ask of you as your husband."
The lady looked over the selection, unimpressed. And then, smiled cleverly, pointing at her husband. "I want that one."
The nobleman, enamored with his wife as ever, shrugged off his fur-lined cloak with a sighing laugh.
That evening, she attended court dressed in the fur of the animal that she had hunted.
