Lurbash's writings and essays

Writings, ramblings, apocrypha and musings about Orcs and Orsinium culture, as well as other TES stuff. Writings are done from the perspective of Lurbash gor-Gortwog, archivist and historian of Orsinium.

[mothermorrows]

Good to know even the authors of the Prima guidebook were unnerved about Oblivion’s epilogue. (Ramble below)

“Martin was Oblivion’s real hero and protagonist” is an agreeable but somewhat misleading statement. I’ve always considered Martin and the HOK as two sides of the same coin. There is absolutely no way Martin could have done “what he was born to do” without your help, and likewise no other person besides Martin who could have made you “the scribe of the next Elder Scroll.”

Martin was born for a specific inescapable fate in true Dragonborn fashion while you were an agent of free will given the grace to choose your level of fidelity to Uriel’s final wish, prescribing your own meaning to the obscure prophetic dreams he shared with you in the sewers. When presented with Jauffre’s invitation to join the Blades, there is an implication that you have personal motive and reasoning for doing more than what was initially expected of you. Martin innovated the possibility of each foothold against the enemy as he studied the Mysterium Xarxes while you were the ground-level means of executing it. You watched his rapid metamorphosis from farmer’s boy to emperor while you had simply stayed a valued trusted friend in his eyes. And lastly, Martin’s final form is that of an Aedric avatar while yours is a Shezzarine and Daedric Prince. The two of you served different, yet complementary roles of equal importance. Though I’d still consider Oblivion’s epilogue and canon player ending as grim, the fact that both of you become immortalized in opposing fashions, one of grandeur and sacrifice and the other in moral ambiguity is really fitting. It makes sense that a machine missing its adjacent part whirrs for only a little longer before breaking down. But as mortals, you two are always remembered together: there will be no history books about the Oblivion Crisis written in the 4th era where your names aren’t inked on the same page.

[uesp]

"That's where Big Walker was born. And that's why that part of our Elsweyr is still poisoned glow-rock, where no cats go."

--A Khajiit discussing the activation of the Numidium near Rimmen

[orsinium-scholar]

Darkness wrapped around the moorlands like a cloak, a forlorn wind howling through sparse trees. Out there in the wilds, the flicker of a torch was a beacon, illuminating a strange scene.

Two orcs, hooded and cloaked, one a woman with an axe slung over her shoulder, eyes darting distrustfully about, the other a powerfully built man, standing firm and proud as he quietly conversed with a tall breton man, also hooded. Under his arm was a bundle of papers.

"-Cannot guarantee this lands ownership is uncontested. You understand even I have limits in what I can do? The world is not yet ready for what you propose. If I pushed too far, people would ask questions..."

"It's a start." Gortwog grunted, dark eyes focused on the bundle with poorly disguised excitement. "A land I can call my own. A land I can defend...I can work with that, build from there...I owe you, Lysandus."

"Yes, you do." the king said bluntly, as he handed over the papers.

Gortwog smiled and held out a hand, one leader to another. The hands of the king of Daggerfall were silken, nary a callus to mar the skin. The light of the torch threw the handsome lines of his face into sharp relief, shone on the silk of his well-trimmed beard...

Gortwog became aware of the wandering of his eyes, and swiftly took his hand away. Something flickered in Lysandus' eyes, an awareness. Gortwog had not been as subtle as he hoped. The warlord held the gaze and tried not to think of the flush creeping along the back of his neck. The king certainly didn't seem...angry about it...

"Send word when you need the favour called in. My orcs will be at your side. We can promise you much, when the time comes and we are people in the eyes of the law. Soldiers for your army. Weapons and tools from our forge. There is...much we can offer you."

Lysandus smiled.

"Of that, Lord Gortwog, I have no doubt. Good luck."

With the swish of a cloak, the king mounted his horse and was gone.

The other orc relaxed and shot him a look.

"I saw that look, Gortwog. And at some scrawny Breton, have you no shame?"

Her voice was harsh, but her warm eyes betrayed her gentle teasing.

Gortwog chuckled.

"A passing fancy, my beloved." he said, relieved to return to his own familiar language. Cyrodiilic was too fluid on his tongue.

His wife grinned, and he knew he wouldn't hear the end of that for a while. No matter.

He looked down at the documents in his grasp. Somehow, they felt heavy in his hands.

"So that's it? After all this work, it's that simple? Just wave the papers about and the land is ours?" She asked, peering closer.

"It's that simple."

"What strange people...Never thought paper would be stronger than weapons."

"This is not a weapon, beloved. With this, no soldiers can come and kill our little ones, no armies can come and force us off our lands. This...this is a shield. And under it's protection, I can finally build us a kingdom."

He paused, gazing at nothing, before letting out a soft, shaky breath.

"Do you...wish to ride home alone tonight, my chief?"

The papers trembled in strong green hands.

"...Ride ahead, and tell my soldiers to prepare to travel. And have a scout sent to the location and see that we haven't been given wasteland. I will...catch up."

He waited until the sound of her horse faded into the distance, until the wind dried the tears on his face. Only then did he turn to make his way to the encampment, hope riding at his heels.

[orsinium-scholar]

Darkness wrapped around the moorlands like a cloak, a forlorn wind howling through sparse trees. Out there in the wilds, the flicker of a torch was a beacon, illuminating a strange scene.

Two orcs, hooded and cloaked, one a woman with an axe slung over her shoulder, eyes darting distrustfully about, the other a powerfully built man, standing firm and proud as he quietly conversed with a tall breton man, also hooded. Under his arm was a bundle of papers.

"-Cannot guarantee this lands ownership is uncontested. You understand even I have limits in what I can do? The world is not yet ready for what you propose. If I pushed too far, people would ask questions..."

"It's a start." Gortwog grunted, dark eyes focused on the bundle with poorly disguised excitement. "A land I can call my own. A land I can defend...I can work with that, build from there...I owe you, Lysandus."

"Yes, you do." the king said bluntly, as he handed over the papers.

Gortwog smiled and held out a hand, one leader to another. The hands of the king of Daggerfall were silken, nary a callus to mar the skin. The light of the torch threw the handsome lines of his face into sharp relief, shone on the silk of his well-trimmed beard...

Gortwog became aware of the wandering of his eyes, and swiftly took his hand away. Something flickered in Lysandus' eyes, an awareness. Gortwog had not been as subtle as he hoped. The warlord held the gaze and tried not to think of the flush creeping along the back of his neck. The king certainly didn't seem...angry about it...

"Send word when you need the favour called in. My orcs will be at your side. We can promise you much, when the time comes and we are people in the eyes of the law. Soldiers for your army. Weapons and tools from our forge. There is...much we can offer you."

Lysandus smiled.

"Of that, Lord Gortwog, I have no doubt. Good luck."

With the swish of a cloak, the king mounted his horse and was gone.

The other orc relaxed and shot him a look.

"I saw that look, Gortwog. And at some scrawny Breton, have you no shame?"

Her voice was harsh, but her warm eyes betrayed her gentle teasing.

Gortwog chuckled.

"A passing fancy, my beloved." he said, relieved to return to his own familiar language. Cyrodiilic was too fluid on his tongue.

His wife grinned, and he knew he wouldn't hear the end of that for a while. No matter.

He looked down at the documents in his grasp. Somehow, they felt heavy in his hands.

"So that's it? After all this work, it's that simple? Just wave the papers about and the land is ours?" She asked, peering closer.

"It's that simple."

"What strange people...Never thought paper would be stronger than weapons."

"This is not a weapon, beloved. With this, no soldiers can come and kill our little ones, no armies can come and force us off our lands. This...this is a shield. And under it's protection, I can finally build us a kingdom."

He paused, gazing at nothing, before letting out a soft, shaky breath.

"Do you...wish to ride home alone tonight, my chief?"

The papers trembled in strong green hands.

"...Ride ahead, and tell my soldiers to prepare to travel. And have a scout sent to the location and see that we haven't been given wasteland. I will...catch up."

He waited until the sound of her horse faded into the distance, until the wind dried the tears on his face. Only then did he turn to make his way to the encampment, hope riding at his heels.

[orsinium-scholar]

Oh...in the lore book "how orsinium passed to the orcs" we know that Gortwog had acquired the correct paperwork to make a claim for the land, paperwork that had all the I's dotted and T's crossed to hold up in court. But it doesn't tell us how he got them...

But we know Lysandus supported Gortwog's push for rights and statehood...

What if Lysandus gave him the papers?

[orsinium-scholar]

Oh...in the lore book "how orsinium passed to the orcs" we know that Gortwog had acquired the correct paperwork to make a claim for the land, paperwork that had all the I's dotted and T's crossed to hold up in court. But it doesn't tell us how he got them...

But we know Lysandus supported Gortwog's push for rights and statehood...

What if Lysandus gave him the papers?

[pickled0ctopus]

leave or join

[orsinium-scholar]

Gortwog posting has made me think about what OCs I have around that period in tes history. Mostly Sintaba, my soul of conflict, but she's a smalltown mercenary who keeps her head down. Also Ak & Sat, who stumbled out of a dragonbreak and began being put in Situations.

Anyway even tho I haven't played any of the earlier installments besides Shadowkey it is fun to rotate the geopolitical concepts from Arena and Daggerfall

- mothermara but main blog

Daggerfall has SUCH interesting concepts. It's such a rich game in terms of lore and politics. It's funny to me how a game set in one small corner of High Rock is so much deeper than something like Skyrim.

Also, as near as I can tell, it may be the first piece of media to have orcs as explicitly not being evil. I may be wrong but near as I can tell this seems to be the case.

[orsinium-scholar]

You know those fandom posts you often see floating around of "Careful shipping that couple as a joke otherwise you'll start doing it for real lol"?

Yeah that's true as hell. Way back when I thought Gortsandus was just an interesting thought experiment and now god help me I think it's got merit. There's a fortune to be mined in some good old fashioned toxic yaoi right there.

[orsinium-scholar]

Gortwog gro-Nagorm headcanon:

A not insignificant part of his success in helping orcs become part of the fabric of Tamriel was the fact that he had many, many children. Not simply because he was very good at organising political marriages between powerful orc clans that would bend their knee to his demands, but because he had a good eye to seeing the talents and drives of his children and could think up ways that would benefit orcs and help as many of his children lead fulfilling lives as possible.

This also increased the visibility of orcs, helping to push out the dominant view of them as rampaging monsters.

An incomplete list of places his children wound up:

-One of his sons was sent to serve as a page boy for a famed knight in the court of Daggerfall, a court Gortwog had much respect for as an old ally of Lysandus. His son would have a successful career as a knight.

-A particularly canny daughter was sent to a famous girls school. Though she struggled with etiquette, the top quality education she got came in handy when she established her own, highly successful school for orc children.

-One blatantly homosexual son who refused a political marriage point blank was sent to the Legion, where he excelled. Another daughter was also sent there to get an education from legion smiths.

-In a tragic case, one of his more sickly children was sent to a monastery in Skingrad, both to get a good education and to take in the warm climate, as Wrothgar's cold was killing him. Sadly, he passed away at the age of 16 after an attack of inflammation of the lungs. Gortwog was devastated, but the sudden outbreak of the oblivion crisis prevented his body being returned home, and he is still buried in Skingrad.

Gortwog's children were noted for their success and passion in turning around the orcs reputation, and the entire family was recorded by many outside observers as very close-knit. Even sons and daughters in distant political marriages still communicated frequently with home via letters and visits.

[skooma-puma]

"We need more complex female characters" you guys cant even handle her

[vokriid]

in-depth tes oc questions

some world-building and character-building questions.

It’s a little unreasonable for everyone in a Middle Ages-esque fantasy to be perfectly literate, and writing with quills was considered legitimate labor! How well can your oc read and/or write? How detailed is their quest log/journal, if they keep one at all?

How educated is your oc? Did their parents teach them, did they have a tutor or were they apprenticed to a master, or did they attend a university? What university? What are they educated in? How long did their education take? (Learned skills like blacksmithing count here too!)

Does your oc have any kind of crafting skills that either aren’t in-game or don’t have as much importance in-game as they would in real life? (For example, can your oc sew or weave, etc? Are they skilled in any kind of art? Can they make jewelry or work glass? Are they musicians? etc)

What pantheon does your oc worship? If they worship the Cyrodiilic/Imperial pantheon, does that include Talos? If they secretly worship Talos, how do they justify hiding it?  

How religious is your oc? Do they come into conflict with others over their beliefs? If their patron deity told them to do something extremely undesirable or against their moral compass, would they do it? Would your oc sell someone’s soul for a corn chip?

Does your oc have a family of origin? How many members of their FoO are still living? Do they have a good relationship? How much contact does your oc have with their FoO? How in-the-loop is your oc’s FoO about your oc’s being Dragonborn/HoK/Nerevarine?

What social class was your oc born into? Did they change classes at all? How?

How politically active is your oc? Are they obviously influential, or is their influence more subtle?

What unplayable faction would/did your oc join, if any? Why?

How trustworthy is your oc? Would they ever change opposing factions?

What is your oc’s main source of income, if they have one besides plundering tombs and adventuring? If they’re mercenaries, are they part of a company? Does your oc own their own business, and if so, what is it?

Is your oc good with finances? Bartering? How long can they keep the money they make? 

Does your oc have any particular rivalry or mutual dislike with any NPC?

How well-liked is your oc? What is their reputation, if they’re well-known? Are they simply liked/disliked, or are they respected but feared, or personally liked but not taken seriously, etc? Do major factions consider your oc an important player? 

Does your oc have a horse/other mount? A pet? How did they get this animal? If they were given the animal, do they have the money to maintain it? How careful/careless are they with their animal? What do they do with their pets while adventuring, especially on dangerous quests?

Does your oc take their time as they travel, or are they purposeful? How do they survive in the wilds, especially if they aren’t hunter-types? How dependent is your oc on civilized society?

What does your oc like to eat? How much food do they eat? Can your oc cook, and can they do it well?

If your oc is a vampire, do they go outside in the daytime? Does the daylight affect or hurt them in any way different from in-game? If they interact with society, how do they justify looking half-dead and hating sunlight? How good is your oc at blending in? Do they even like dealing with society?

If your oc is a werebeast, how much control do they have over their transformations? Have they ever lost control? What happened? If not, why do they have such strong control? Does Hircine ever call on them, and do they answer?

What does your oc wear in the city/settlements? In the house? When travelling, but not adventuring or expecting combat? Do they vary their clothes depending on what hold/city they’re in? If they don’t, why not (e.g., if your oc wears the same outfit to tend their garden or lounge around the house as they did to meet Ulfric or Elisif, why?) Does your oc have a good or bad sense of fashion? How many clothes does your oc have?

How picky is your oc about their gear? Do they have different equipment for different adventures, or is it the same suit of armor for everything (not counting upgrades like from steel to ebony)? 

How does your oc acquire their clothes, and from where/whom?

Can your oc swim, and how well? Have they ever swam in the ocean, or only lakes/rivers? Remember, it’s much harder to swim in the ocean than in a lake! If your oc is an Argonian, do they take special advantage of it somehow (e.g., do they go diving for fun/for profit, do they instinctively hide in the water, etc)? If your oc is a Khajiit who can swim, how do they get their fur dry?

How easy/difficult is it to rob your oc? Pickpocket? Bribe? 

If your oc is part of one of the more morally questionable or outright evil factions, how do they justify it to themselves? Do they still consider themselves as morally good? How well known is their affiliation to these groups? Do they have separate personas (e.g. Dragonborn to some people, Listener to others)? Do their family/friends know? If they have separate personas, how do they keep their less than righteous activities secret?

How helpful is your oc, and why? Are they helpful or kind even during difficult situations? Are they pragmatic, or do they have a hero syndrome?

[orsinium-scholar]

Headcanon: It's well known that orcs are often derogatorily compared to pigs, particularly around the High Rock area. And in recent years, they've begun to take that insult back.

Orcish noble families are more frequently incorporating wild boars on their heraldry, and boar imagery and tusks frequently find their way onto orcish smithing. As they're quick to point out, there's few creatures in the wilds as dangerous as a boar with it's dander up.

This reclamation attempt recently culminated in the Grand Tourney of Camlorn on 4E 198, where the Orcish knight Bogrog Gro-Malraz, in his distinctive boars head helm, spent the entire day kicking the ass of the famously bigoted Ser Frederic Maurard in every event, from jousting to archery to the final grand duel. Afterwards, as a gesture of "good sportsmanship" he gifted the Breton knight with...a nicely cured leg of ham, as the audience exploded with laughter.

Ser Frederic was not available for comment afterwards.

[orsinium-scholar]

Thought I'd do something interesting and make an ask meme, but with one simple question for your LDB, Hero of Kvatch, Nerevarine or etc:

Give an in-game quest and an OC and I'll tell you how they did that quest.

[orsinium-scholar]

Regarding that last shitpost, Larkash picked up the Vibes of that place quickly, realized there was a tangled mess here he wasn't even going to BEGIN sticking his nose in, and made his excuses very quickly. Lovely stronghold, congratulations on the mine! But I have to...see someone...about a thing...no, terribly sorry can't stay for dinner...Better hit the road...

He never set foot there again. Whatever rot is in that place, it's the chiefs job to cut out. And if he can't...

[orsinium-scholar]

Reading up on the narzulbur stronghold:

[adonischildsupportcase]