Oat milk was discovered much more recently than you may have known. Like many now-familiar technologies, it was found by accident during the Apollo program when NASA learned what a zero-g environment does to goat milk.
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well, very simply put: iām indigenous. a lot of awful colonization has happened to my people, and i identify quite heavily with the reachfolk who have faced similar colonization and treatment as an indigenous group, which ulfric isnāt necessarily an innocent party in.
the reachfolk had established an independent kingdom in Markarth and the reach, until the previous Jarl (Hrolfdir) had called upon Ulfric and his militia to take control of Markarth. in the book āThe Bear of Markarthā itās alleged that Ulfric:
1. executed (or possibly called for the execution of) officials who worked for the Forsworn, even if they had surrendered
2. tortured (or possibly called for the torture of) reachfolk women to give up names of the Forsworn who fled
and 3. āAnyone who lived in the city, Forsworn and Nord alike, were executed if they had not fought with Ulfric and his men when they breached the gates. "You are with us, or you are against Skyrim" was the message on Ulfric's lips as he ordered the deaths of shopkeepers, farmers, the elderly, and any child old enough to lift a sword that had failed in the call to fight with him.ā <-thatās a direct quote
even if all of that š detail didnāt happen (as it is only alleged), ulfric still took a militia to Markarth and ādrove outā the reachfolk with force.
real talk: i donāt mind people who enjoy ulfric as a character, i think there are interesting parts of him, i suppose. but a lot of his fans (that iāve seen, at least) tend to dismiss the bad parts in favour of humping him. i think it does a disservice to any characterization to ignore what heās done, or try to find a way to justify it so you donāt feel bad about liking him.
i know a lot of people will hand wave it and say āheās not realā but these things do feel very personal for poc in fandom. itās hard to feel like youāre actually welcome and part of a community when people get mad at you for disliking a character who did something terrible to people like yours, who helped colonize and commit war crimes and borderline possibly commit genocide against them, yet is still regarded as a hero. itās hard to feel like people are truly your ally when they want to hump the guy who used military force against a native group living peacefully in their own land, and disregard it because āheās not real, nobody got hurtā. (and this is especially true when the very same fans show up on your posts to try and say he did nothing wrong.) but the very narrative that the game drives has people regarding him as a hero, and it plays into a very real way of thinking that indigenous people deserved the colonization that happened to them because they ālostā. iāve seen so, so many people parrot that the reachfolk deserved what happened to them because they ālost fair and squareā. wow, iām sure you have very normal opinions on irl native colonization! /sarcasm.
and listen, i get having problematic favesāiām a miraak blog for godās sake. that guy brainwashed an island and mind-control enslaved people to do his bidding so he could escape apocrypha. but you donāt see me going āMiraak did absolutely nothing wrong ever!ā
and honestly? a lot of my hatred of ulfric is in part because of how some of his fans get. i mean, jesus, i donāt want to be mean but iāve never seen such sensitive people. if youāre a fan of perhaps THE most controversial character in the game, youāve got to be able to handle it when someone else doesnāt like him. and somehow they always find my blog.
Cannot stand the trend of censoring any and all words that describe concepts that might make you go :( especially when the censoring is done in that quarter-assed way that's just 'did a lil scribble over a vowel so you know that I know this word describes a no-no."
I'm not even going to be vague about what sparked this. Do not fucking censor the word 'stole.' I'm at my fucking limit.
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"Then the door of the tavern swings open and in comes a clump of Skeggrs, the whole lot of them already hooting and hollering up a storm. Already in the middle of one of their songs, they must have been belting that one out as they partied down the street. I thought they were already drunk, could hardly get a word in amongst all the din. Didn't pause for even a second, one of them just tossed a coin purse onto my bar and the group started helping themselves to my barrels. Just more singing, drinking and slapping one of their mates on the back for something. Couldn't figure out what the big deal was, finally one of the milk maids got one to talk. Said they were celebrating that one of their buddies got his first streak of gray in his beard, something about him "becoming one of the grays." I don't even know. They got to be making this random Rot up just for the excuse to drink..."
The frozen north seems like an inhospitable place, with the violent seas, harsh weather and bitter cold. Just a land of ice and beasts, it seems like misery. Yet there are those who call this region home, who show that man can live just fine in such an arctic zone. In fact, it is these challenging elements that they take pride in, believing that it has hardened and honed them into what they are today. It is what separates outsiders from the Skeggrs, they who rule over the icy isles of the north.
There is no mistaking a Skeggr from the other races of man, their build and bodies quite iconic. They are bigger and bulkier, a physique they like to attribute to being related to the giants (no actual evidence there), though it most likely came from living in such a harsh environment. A larger size to help retain heat, more muscle to deal with the physical challenges of the land. Yet these traits hardly get the spotlight when it comes to the subject of Skeggrs, for they have something else that is far more iconic: their body hair. These people constantly grow an insane amount of body hair throughout their lives, even their newborns have a healthy coat of vellus hair. It grows long and thick, covering most of their bodies. The hands, feet, ears and nose are where the coat is thinnest or absent. This hair is thick and dark, no doubt formed to help keep these people warm during the harsh winters. Such quantity would put the coats of beasts from the golden lands to shame, and it is a point of pride for the Skeggr people. This hair is what helps them survive and it sets them apart from the others, which is why it is woven so deeply into their culture.
"What is your worry? You fear your hair growing gray? Ha! Such a thing is an honorable sign amongst us Skeggrs! To live to such an old age shows that you have survived countless hardships, gained great wisdom! You are turning to the Gray and that calls for celebration!"
"And the balding? You guys celebrate that?"
"Ah, well, you see in the beginning man once proclaimed himself superior to woman. For his boisterous claims, a challenge from the gods was issued, in which man and woman would compete. Despite his ego, he failed the great test, and thus would have to remove the top of his hair as a sign of humility! You will carry the mark of humbleness, there is no need to be ashamed. This humility you show is inspirational-"
"-and we should celebrate that?"
"Spoken like a true Skeggr! Milk Maid! Another round!"
These incredibly long locks that grow all over their body are not left tangled and untamed, for they become the cloths and armor that the Skeggrs wear. Rather than take the fur of other beasts to clad themselves in, they weave their own body hair into intricate braids and patterns to further insulate their bodies. Hair of the arm and armpits are coiled into long sleeves, their leg hair fashioned into warm pants while the chest and back form thick warm sweaters. The men grow massive beards and mustaches, while the women show them up with their copious amounts of head hair. Skeggr women grow hair upon their faces as well, but these remain shorter and thinner than that of the males. All hair of the Skeggrs plays a role in their culture, be they status symbols or used for practical purposes. Men will weave hidden pouches within their beards for sneaky storage, women will use some of their braids and body hair to form the slings they carry their children with. The beards and braids of both are flaunted, for those with the biggest and longest are said to be stronger and healthier. The back hair of the Skeggrs are typically woven into intricate patterns that denote their family and clan, an honor bestowed upon them since this art must be done with the approval and help of another. Personal touches to their body hair are always sprinkled in here and there, augmented by ornaments of bone, horn and chitin added to their manes.
To a Skeggr, their hair is everything. While the copious amount and musky odor may be off-putting to outsiders, it should be known that hair care is very serious business for them. Special powders and tonics are used to replace traditional bathing, as water would have a hard time penetrating deep enough and doing so in arctic conditions is a bit of problem. Instead, these oils and mixtures are worked into their hair to help clean it, strengthen it and make it shine. When one wants to look good for your clan's image, you got to make sure your hair is in perfect condition. As for cutting Skeggr hair, there are incredibly specific rules tied to it, with failure to follow them resulting in great shame and mockery from the others. For one, Skeggrs never fully cut their hair, only trimming is allowed to help keep it workable. Specialists in their clan are typically called for the job, as they are well versed in treating hair and grooming it just right. Any hair clippings that are produced must be collected by the owner and properly cared for, leaving them lying about is like leaving an extension of yourself on the ground. It would be shameful, but also allow enemies to collect the random pieces and use them for malicious purposes. These hair clippings may be burned in ceremony to dispose of them, or used in personal items.
Certain hairs from specifics parts of the body are deemed acceptable for harvest in use of weaving items. Any Skeggr archer will have their bowstings made from their own body hair, and any other rope or binding in their home will come from the same source. With the personal energeiai infused in this material, Skeggrs believe any removed portion of it still has ties to them. It is why parents may make dolls for their children with their own hair, a toy that holds a part of them to watch over their young. Valuables my be secured with ropes of their hair, with the belief that any tampering will mentally alert the owner. And when a couple is married, braids will be crafted and woven into each other, the perfect symbol of their union. Hair is everything to them, and that remains true when it comes time for battle.
"When the first attackers came over the hill, we believed the Skeggrs had set their war beasts upon us. Massive, hairy things of tusks, horns and claws, charging forth upon all fours. It wasn't til they got closer that we realized that they were no animals, but the Skeggrs themselves..."
When a fight is called for, Skeggrs do not need to strap on a suit of armor. They may have bone plates and helms to put on, but these are the few pieces used. Due to the cold and limited resources, bile forging in their land is not nearly as common compared to other places. And why does one need armor when they have natural suit growing right out of them? The intricate weaving and thick coats already grant them some good defense, but special "guardhair tonics" bolster it even further. When the brew is applied and worked in, the hairs tighten and harden. They become like chunks of keratin horn, which fits since Skeggrs like to shape their beards, mustaches and braids into horns, tusks and antlers. They take on the visage of beasts when going into battle, charging forth to gore foes or deflect attacks. Their infamous "Beardserkers" take this a step further, fully weaving their body hair to truly take on the strength and spirit of a particular animal. And that isn't the only trick they hold.
Hair is one of the Four Constitutions, special arts and magics that are tied more to the flesh than fluid. The Skeggrs are masters of this, as should be obvious with that much hair. They call upon their energeiai to aid in its growth and density, even able to animate it. Braids become like snapping serpents, tendrils of arm hair shoot forth like a great grasping hand. Protective cocoons may be woven in times of distress, while some have learned to form shed hairs into piercing needles that can be launched. With this Constitution, the bulky Skeggrs can become foes of incredible adaptability. Their performance in battles grant them honor amongst their clan, as such bravery and strength is valued in their culture.
There is no denying that the past of the Skeggrs is filled with fights and violence. Living in a harsh land with many beasts, it takes much strength to fend off predators and bring food home to the village. And then, of course, comes competition. Though the homeland of the Skeggrs is the Isle of BrĆŗn, their kind has spread all over the Aurgelmir Archipelago. Many clans have developed, leading to conflicts between them as disputes arose over resources and territory. Fighting to protect your people and claim resources for your clan was seen as a great honor, thus leading to many of their men and woman becoming warriors. Special codes would develop amongst the Skeggrs to determine what actions and feats would be applauded or shamed, with value granted to "fair combat." Such things typically pertained to Skeggr vs Skeggr battles, as there was still some awareness that they were all the same. When it came to fighting outsiders, such rules became a bit more lax, as victory over these intruders mattered more. Those who have seen the art and villages of the Skeggrs can see well that they revere their warrior nature and honor those who have succeeded in glorious combat. Yet, they are not ice cold killers. As their culture has opened up more to the outside world over the past decades, folks have seen another side of Skeggrs that were once hidden in their taverns and halls.
The harsh winters and bitter cold can be draining to the body and soul, and Tears ice can make that quite literal. Days of darkness and brutal elements truly test the mind, making outsiders wonder how anyone can stay sane in these conditions. The Skeggrs know these mental dangers well, that one can become weary from all of this. But they have found a way to combat this, and it is to drown these lows with incredible highs. Take off the edge with countless ceremonies and celebrations, let it disappear beneath loud songs and strong drink. Despite a reputation of being tough honor-driven warriors, Skeggrs also come off as absolute party animals. It is how they cope with the woes of the world, when souls are lost in battle they are honored with raised mugs. There are more serious ceremonies performed by their kind throughout the year, ways to bless their people, honor their dead and strengthen their future. Yet there is also just as many celebrations to be had where they bust out the food and drink. Music is always a must, making any party a cacophony as the Skeggrs break out in one of their dozens of songs. No matter if they are in the archipelago or traveling a foreign land, a Skeggr will find any reason to have a good time.
Such jovial nature is a welcome sight (though a bit grating for some) compared to the Skeggrs of old in the past. The remote nature of their frozen isles did mean that not many traveled to their lands, but the same cannot be said about Skeggrs coming to ours. At some point in the past, their clans saw it futile to keep fighting amongst themselves in a land that was already challenging. Instead, they would turn their sights upon the surrounding regions and their coasts, seeing plenty of trade ships and lucrative harbors. The Skeggrs would retain their honor of being a warrior and provider for their clan by raiding these places, with ships sent out to attack trade vessels and coastal villages. Glory was gained from slaying foes and bringing home great treasures. Wealth was valued, but so was the acquiring of food and fluids, precious resources in their frigid land. Skeggrs would become a scourge for traveling vessels and those who lived nearby, giving them a reputation of violent raiders. Guard ships and Church forces would be sent out to protect against these hairy marauders, but this was just seen as extra challenge. Well, for a time...
"More of the warships have been sighted in the trade routes, the golden soldiers are growing in number. We cannot pretend we do not see the Church's presence moving closer and closer to our isles. There is no telling when they will choose to escalate their efforts and come to our shores in retaliation!"
"Hah! Let them come! Are warriors will face anything they throw at us! You wish to surrender like some hairless coward? No! We fight no matter the odds! If we die, then we die with honor!"
New minds amongst the clans would look upon these violent ways and grew fearful over the fate of their people. Though they had years of glory and battle, it was becoming clear that the outside forces were starting to win more. And even when they claimed great victory, the clan leaders could sense the Church growing more irritated with this "nuisance" preying upon their ships. As more warriors were lost to the cause, there was the worry that the golden empire of the Church would one day have enough of these attacks and launch an all out assault on the archipelago. Many Skeggrs would have loved to see them try, yet wiser minds saw the danger. Honor only worked when there were people alive to acknowledge it, and the Church's army upon their shores would inevitably lead to Skeggr extinction. The call was made to the many clans to deescalate the situation, bringing these days of raiding to an end. It was not an easy sell, nor any easy process to establish, but the outsiders would see Skeggr attacks begin to dwindle. Offerings and treaties would be extended to the shores they once besieged, and eventually an understanding would be made. Obviously animosity would remain in quite a few, but a time of peace would begin to grow in the history of Skeggrs.
Their shores would begin to open up to others, receiving outsiders to the Aurgelmir Archipelago. When good hospitality was shown to these travelers, a new opportunity would arise for Skeggr kind. The new flow of people and goods to their shores brought much needed resources, and even the doubters of their kind had to acknowledge the benefits. Stability would come, helping settle things after clans had lost so many in their raids. Honor and battle were still sought, but better avenues were found for that need. Competitive games would be established, warriors would become guards and guides for visitors, and Skeggrs would even go out into the outside world to bring down worthy prey or find honorable work. Their people would work as mercenaries, guards and hunters, finding a better outlet for their warrior beliefs. Their strength and hair would be appreciated by others, who would also be charmed by their partying ways. Skeggrs and their land would see the reputation of savage raiders start to fade, and their homeland would find peace and prosperity now that an understanding was reached. These decades were enjoyed but, unfortunately, it seems like their past has not been fully buried.
"They say we still have honor! They say we are still warriors! A bunch of bald faced lies! Look here! See what they call "honor" here! A Runic Blade of the Giants, a weapon bestowed upon those who have proven themselves true warriors on the battlefield! Who have claimed many lives in glorious battle! A blade meant for heroes! Warriors! Yet where did I find this sacred sword?! Upon the mantle of some gnarled crone! An owner of a traitorous lodge, a vile nest built for outsiders! She was given this to honor her deeds and hospitality, her contributions to community! Does that sound like a warrior to you all?! Does that sound like honor, to make beds and cook meals for our enemies?! These swords are our heritage, our culture, our very soul! They are not some trophy, a prize to be handed out for charity! It is a weapon of a warrior, to be bathed in the spilled fluid of our enemies! Will we suffer this same fate, or will we reclaim our beards and braids and prove ourselves true Skeggrs?!"
The Skeggrs have been spared from the war raging on the golden continent, as their archipelago is far from Church territory. Even the northernmost point of the landmass sees little Church presence due to its weather and isolation, giving the Skeggrs a buffer. Only those who have traveled to this land have been caught in it, but it seems like the rest of Skeggr kind may be dragged into the madness. A recent movement has been growing amongst their people, focused on their past days of raiding and glory. Old souls that feel that their warrior ways have fallen out, replaced with passivity and submissiveness. Their leaders have grown hairless, caring more about appeasing outsiders than upholding their ancient traditions. They demand that Skeggrs reclaim their honor and purpose, to return to a time when strength ruled. The leader, StĆ³rrekkr, has gathered a number of warriors across the many isles, attracting old ones were cling to their glory days while winning over younger fighters with the promises of glory and riches. And with the Church weakened by war, now is the best time to bring back these old days. Those who believe this are in the minority, but that hasn't stopped StĆ³rrekkr from going after the clan leaders to give the demands or from sending out raiding ships to restart their days of conquest. Pillaging was done, retaliation was fired back and StĆ³rrekkr would face the executioner's axe for his deeds. Unfortunately, this only ignited the movement, turning it into a full blown coup against the elders. Though they are few, the powers they have claimed from reviled sources have granted them obscene strength.
As the Church's war rolls on, a smaller one takes place on the Isle of BrĆŗn. The coup clashes with the remaining clan leaders and the Skeggrs who do not want to return to such a savage time. The Hall of Elders has been claimed, the horrid guardian and the rotten forces turning it into the coup's stronghold. Across the other islands of the archipelago, the clans are free from this terror, but they fear that may change. Warriors go out to try to aid their fellows and bring this coup to an end, while those remaining fortify their homes in preparation for invasion. Life goes on and the parties still grow loud, but the Skeggrs of these isles always keep their frost axes close at hand, fearing ships of gnarled soldiers landing upon their shores.
FINALLY! We finally get to the actual Skeggrs! Whew! What a time! Boy it is a good thing I chose to make a people and region all based upon hair. You know, one of the many things I absolutely suck at drawing.
Been a few months but I'm still chugging away at custom-voiced followers
We got Auri now! Personally, I thought of her as one of the Big Four in terms of modded followers, alongside Lucien, Kaidan, and Inigo, and now I'm only one away from completing the quartet...
And now a slightly newer one that I don't see talked about very much: Sa'chil! She required a great deal of modification to get her as short as she's supposed to be, but I think I got close enough.
Lastly in this bunch is Sheogorath, who is not a follower nor modded but I've been doing these in threes and I'm pretty happy about how he turned out. Of all the characters in The Elder Scrolls, this is the one that should be sporting a new outfit every time he shows up, and it's a crime that ESO just rehashed his Shivering Isles digs.
We donāt talk enough about the two identical old women who just hang around Azula saying ominous shit in unison. Whatās their deal. Is there a comic about them. Are they paid for their services
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āBecause the truth is, tech doesnāt have an image problem. It doesnāt have a message problem. It has an intention problem. Whatās wrong with the axe murderer who broke into my house is not that he hasnāt successfully persuaded me to buy into his narrative. Whatās wrong is that heās trying to kill me with an axe. Similarly, when you launch a product thatās designed to put millions of people out of work, block access to sources of verifiable truth, replace human creativity with slop, and lower the barriers to every sort of atrocity, the problem isnāt that you havenāt told the public a good story about those things. The problem is that you are trying to do them.ā
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Can't help but appreciate how well the body language translates through VR.
The frantic head turning while looking for a place to stash the grenade, the double take as they realize the drawer they chose was FULL of grenades, and the "WTF" hand gesture as they point in disbelief at the drawer full of grenades? Chef's kiss.
āItās digestibleā is pertinent!! Okay, for those of you who havenāt researched Crisco for writing fic about gay sex in the mid-late 60s:
The first-edition ofĀ The Joy of Gay Sex, published in 1977, declared, āVegetable shortening may be the best lubricant, since it is not only greasy but also digestibleā[4]Ā Such a statement perhaps gives new meaning to the companies boastful declarations that āIts digestibleā and āCrisco has been making life in the kitchen more delicious for years.āĀ Similarly, in the 1978 sex manualĀ The Advocate Guide to Gay Health, Crisco even earned an entry in the bookās index.Ā Discussions of the shorteningās use as an anal lubricant indicate its popularity, with statements such as: āThe lubricant, typically the cultic Crisco, must be copious.ā[5]Ā In fact, Crisco was so synonomus with gay sex that discos and bars around the world took on the name, such as Crisco Disco in New York City, which was one of the premiere clubs during the 1970s and early 1980s.Ā Other clubs or bathhouses, such as Club Z in Seattle, even featured murals with Crisco.Ā Thus, Crisco was conversely also one of many things that led to the formation of gay identities during the 20thĀ century.
from this essay: http://www.columbia.edu/~sf2220/TT2007/web-content/Pages/drew2.html
Love this post for so many reasons but most especially because this is from all the way back in 2012 and and yet not a single blog in this thread is deactivated
Love the gay history, but i just wanna correct that the āitās digestibleā in the gay stuff was a reference to criscoās tagline it had been using since 1911, the actual meaning of its digestible is because itās main competition came from āenhancedā lards which were rendered pig fat mixed with non food thickeners that literally did not digest and caused people to basically just shit out pig cream, since crisco was veggie based the body digested it along with the food
This post is the opposite of net zero information. Not only did I learn several new facts about gay history but also we rounded our way back to the original question of the tag line and the mini obelisks.
Itās a net profit of information. 12/10 post
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