#* lore.

cue all of his children being like WHO WAS WATCHING DAD. DID HE TAKE HIS MEDICATION?? WHY ARE ALL OF HIS CLOTHES GONE?? WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE FUCK.

remember. it's never too late to be an absent father.

Ruarc believes in stewardship theology, practical virtue ethics rather than relying on rules or divine guidance, and faith in action. He sees the world not as a lost cause, but as an overgrown garden, not inherently good or evil but something that people have a responsibility to tend, prune, water, seed.

He rejects passivity, calling out people who want salvation without sacrifice, or God to fix what they keep breaking. Faith isn’t comfort, it’s discipline and action and the reward of that, and God works through those willing to put their back into it. Sloth will not be tolerated. God is merciful; so they don’t have to be, not to others or to themselves.

On the surface, it’s moral stewardship — but at its extreme, it can slip into a kind of moral absolutism; he decides what is worth saving and what is rot. That gives him the potential to justify harsh or violent actions in the name of “cleansing” or protecting the greater good. When taken too far, his worldview can excuse cruelty, coercion, or even preemptive judgment against people he deems unworthy or corrosive.

Another aspect is the emotional toll and rigidity it demands. His philosophy at it's worst leaves little room for mercy and compromise, those with empathy for outsiders can risk being part of the decay that must be corrected.

This outlook leads to isolation, obsession, fanaticism: a shepherd who is so focused on the field, the greater picture, the forest and not the trees, that he loses connection with the very people he’s trying to save, his community, and becomes willing to burn “rotten”, doubtful, or exploitive parts of the flock even when alternatives might exist.

Ruarc’s philosophy empowers decisive action and moral clarity, he conducts himself with a confidence and urgency that brings comfort to alot of people languishing in their circumstances - but it can also justify extremism, create blind spots to human nuance, and make him a rigid arbiter of life and death in his own moral calculus.

The line between “saving” and “destroying” can blur so easily, especially if his judgment is clouded by pride, anger, or fear of decay. Once again, reiterated, his stewardship theology at it’s depths blurs into moral absolutism; if i can make such sacrifices, why can’t you? You have a duty. A responsibility. You will go where you are told, do as you are ordered, and exact divine will without hesitation, because our will is righteous. If you refuse, you do not disappoint me, you disappoint humanity, of which you are responsible for the wellbeing of, which is the greatest sin of all.

His worldview becomes significantly less fanatical when Ruarc regularly takes his lithium.

HEY, SACHA, WHAT'S THIS BLOG ALL ABOUT? ARE YOU GOOD?

First thing's first - I need you to imagine I'm holding your hand for the rest of this post with an ironclad grip. This character has lit a fever in me, and if I don't get all of it Out Of My Brain and into a metaphysical space I'm going to explode into confetti - so forgive me for the ramblings that are going to ensue, and use your imagination because I do not give a fuck about canon. Skyrim is the Dating Brynjolf game now, fuck everything else - I'm kidding, I just need you to suspend your sense of belief by a couple of inches to the right to indulge me.

This is a lore-heavy writing blog, sometimes roleplay blog, but mostly writing blog, for an original character of mine that I ship with Brynjolf from The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. For my purposes, his name is Halle, Halle's just a guy - well, a half-giant, but still just a guy, not the dragonborn, there's no dragonborn in this setting, unless someone's writing an original character who happens to be the dragonborn, then we take creative liberty for roleplay reasons and we all get to have fun together.

WHO IS HALLE?

Halle is a half-giant, half-nord, originally from Bleakwind Basin in Whiterun Hold, but currently taking residence at Honeyside in Riften, where he lives with his partner, Brynjolf. He mainly keeps to either Whiterun or Riften and the spaces in-between, him and Brynjolf kind of have a Moomintroll and Snufkin situation going on where Halle comes and goes because that's his nature and Brynjolf loves Halle as he is, even if he misses him terribly.

When in Whiterun, he keeps mostly to ranging the tundra, but he has a pretty positive reputation with the people living inside the city walls as well. He's considered a Thane, and mainly handles diplomatic relations between giants and citizens - keeps them from killing eachother over territory and misunderstanding, which makes him happy, because Halle considers himself more giant than nord, and there's very few giants left in Skyrim compared to what their numbers used to be.

Halle spends alot of his time in Whiterun strengthening diplomatic relations between his people and the citizens of Whiterun, hunting poachers, or in his woodworking shop up in Riverwood.

When in Riften, he keeps mostly to the Ratway or to the surrounding wilds, but occasionally picks up work inside city limits when he isn't working with the guild - it's usually fetch requests from the merchants, but he picks up a few shifts as a baker in the bakery that Dawn of Skyrim adds, a bartender in the Bee & Barb on occasion, and if all else fails, there's always work to be found at the docks.

Despite his associations with the guild, Halle's pretty difficult for locals to hate, because he operates off the philosophy of, well, if you aren't making money, how am I going to make money off you in return? He routinely pisses Mercer off by refusing to kick people while they're down, Halle won't steal from people less fortunate than himself and there's been a few debts settled discretely out of his own pocket that he's had long conversations with Delvin about, but it always ends in the same acknowledgment; coin is coin at the end of the day.

Halle, as a person, is kind - ultimately kind. He has a strong sense of empathy and honor, which are strange qualities to find in a thief, but Halle's not just a thief. His entire affiliation with the guild is.. complicated, to say the least. Halle seems like he would fit in much better with a faction like the Companions at first glance, but Halle has very strong opinions on the way the Companions chew up and spit out people like Uthgerd, Arnbjorn, and others. There's also some bad blood between Halle and the Companions as they've killed a handful of giants before Halle could get things straightened out, because they don't tend to see them as people so much as challenges, and Halle finds that hard to respect. To Halle, the Thieves Guild is a collection of people just trying to make a living by the means available to them, they're survivalists same as him, and down on their luck at that, but still trying, which he finds noble in his own way - he also appreciates that their standards for joining up are basically, can you stay out of the way, and can you defend yourself, which makes them alot more down-to-earth from his perspective.

Halle is compassionate even to those who seem undeserving, and fiercely loyal to those who matter to him, but he will sever ties over dishonorable, careless, or cruel behaviors, although it might hurt, especially if they're close to his heart. He doesn't hesitate to make hard choices, or confront people with poor intentions, and serves as a moral compass on multiple occasions in the guild, both before Mercer's betrayal and after, something that was a point of great contention on multiple occasions that nearly turned into physical fights with the corrupt guildmaster.

He's thoughtful, with a strong attention to detail, especially where people are concerned - Halle notices things about others and keeps them in mind habitually. Despite his thoughtful nature, it doesn't extend to himself, and he can be impulsive when it comes to exploration, diving into caves and ruins without a second thought for his own safety. He's also naive in matters of Nordic culture, like the time he wore an Amulet of Mara he'd found because he thought, huh, that's pretty, and nearly gave Brynjolf a heart attack.

With his even temperament, Halle and Brynjolf are both natural mediators, and it's something that they admire equally in one another. Halle's priority is always keeping the peace, but he won't hesitate to stand up if his values, or his companions, are threatened.

WHAT DOES HALLE LOOK LIKE?

Well, Halle's about 7'2, which doesn't make him very stealthy in broad daylight or tight spaces, but he makes an excellent distraction - in circumstances other than bright daylight or tight spaces, however, Halle tends to surprise people with how quiet he can really be. His size makes him quick, and his feet are thickly padded from a lifetime of walking everywhere he needs to go, because, as a fun fact, Halle actually can't ride a horse due to his size.

He has long red hair - a dark cinnamon color. He keeps the sides of his hair cropped short, the rest kept long in the back and worn in two braids. He has deep-set eyes, blue-green, and his skin is tanned from so many days spent out under the tundra sun. He has a strong jaw that lends itself to a relatively handsome face despite his crooked nose, and broad shoulders that speak to a powerful build. Halle keeps a decent beard, not overly long or wild, usually unbraided except for special occasion.

Halle has a variety of scars, but the majority are ritualistic. The giant language is made up of various swirls and pointillisms, and the scars on Halle's body are essentially sentences in Giant stating who he is, where he's from, his temperament, and his values. The rest of his scars are from a mix of animals and blades, he briefly wrestled bears for money while on hard times and while it developed his grappling skills, people don't pay well for short, quick fights with little bloodshed to be had.

Halle mainly wears the bare-chested variant of the fur armor, or one of two leather armor sets - the usual chestnut-brown travel leathers, or his ink-black thief's raiment.

WHO ARE HALLE'S CLOSEST ASSOCIATES?

Brynjolf, first and foremost, but a close second would be Lucien Flavius, who has been his road-companion for many, many years now. He's quite close with Vex as well, treating her like an older sister. Delvin is someone who Halle can always trust to be frank with him as well, and they've forged a bond of their own ever since Mercer was dealt away with, and Delvin was made guildmaster.

WHAT ARE HALLE'S VIEWS ON THE CIVIL WAR?

Halle takes no particular side in the civil war, not finding any sense of kinship with the Imperials, or even in the more giant-friendly Stormcloaks. His half-brother is a Stormcloak officer, but him and Halle have no contact, though each are aware of the other’s existence. Halle doesn’t care for the fine points of the civil war, only how it affects the land - this changes slightly when Halle rescues Etienne post-Mercer's betrayal from the Thalmor, and finds the dossier on Ulfric Stormcloak. It spurs him into becoming more involved in his own way, not with the Stormcloaks or the Imperials, but by tying a bond with the Forsworn instead - there's also an arc I'm currently writing for Halle travelling to Solstheim and retrieving the initial fungus that rendered the Falmer blind from the depths of Apocrypha, and striking a deal with Nocturnal in exchange for his fealty that results in the resuscitation of the Snow Elves.

HOW DOES HALLE FEEL ABOUT THE DRAGONS?

For Halle's storyline, the dragons don't actually return to Skyrim until Halle and Lucien leave to Solstheim to follow up on a research lead, and are present when Miraak returns. This is after Mercer's betrayal. Halle's first encounter with a dragon is when Riften comes abruptly under attack after his return, and it's a mess. Lucien and Halle evacuate the civilians, and Halle bodily forces Brynjolf through the opened portal to Ivarstead before it closes, in a fucked-up self-sacrifice moment where he and Lucien nearly both die trying to take down the living legend. So, safe to say, he's not very fond of the dovah.

WHAT ARE HALLE'S FEARS?

⸙ ˚࿔ @devilarmed — what’s the darkest thought they’ve ever had about themselves?

It isn’t something dramatic like “I’m a monster.”

Ruarc’s too self-aware and too controlled for that kind of blunt self-condemnation. He knows he's a monster; he's definitely going to hell, nobody planted a garden worth a damn without gettin' a little dirt on their hands, that's the price he's paying for a better world; his sacrifice, his cross to bear.

The darkest thought he’s had is quieter, and far more damning; that everything he calls “care” in regards to his garden, is just control wearing a gentler face, domination with kind blue eyes that crease when he smiles (bares teeth before sinking them in, sharp and hungry into the softest parts of you), and that he might not actually know the difference anymore!

There are moments, usually in the aftermath of some violent outburst, when someone in the flock looks at him with genuine, naive trust, where it hits him sideways with all the force of a bullet train; that sobering clarity of, oh, son, I sure did a number on your fruit salad up there, huh? He’ll catch himself replaying a choice of phrasing, guiding lying to someone, protecting isolating them, shaping conditioning them, and realize with abrupt clarity; he never seriously considered letting them choose differently! Not really! At least, not in a way that risked losing them. The illusion of choice.

This control issue, it makes him too similar to his father, the family annihilator, to sit well in his chest.

And the thought that naturally follows,

If they walked away freely… would I let them? Or would I just find a better way to convince them to stay? Would I splatter brainmatter on the cabin walls and say, boy, what a night, then turn the barrel on myself? Just like him? Am I just like him?

What makes it dark isn’t just the question, it’s that he doesn’t have a clean answer that doesn't come from some raw and bloody and agonizingly bright (a glare like headlights, do not be afraid) part of his mind that screams well, prophet; you didn't think saving humanity would come easy, would you? everyone kicks and screams as they're born! (again!)

Worse, there are times, (god, are there times!) he suspects the answer is no - just no. He wouldn't let them leave. Not out of anger. Not out of desperation - like this is the first time he's had to burn it all down and start over? But because, in his mind, keeping people, refining them, “gardening” them, is indistinguishable from loving them, and you can't really ever choose not to love someone, can you? It's out of his hands, and certainly if it's out of his, it's out of yours.

He doesn’t spiral. Ruarc doesn’t do spirals; not anymore! Praise the lithium, Praise the Lord. He compartmentalizes it, files it away, turns doubt into something usable.

You're planting seeds in a garden you will never get to see; burdened with purpose. This mutual fatigue, well, it's just proof that you're putting your back into it.

But that question never really goes quiet.