#madanach

The Forsworn and the lore of the Reachmen is barely brushed upon in Skyrim and TES save for them being ‘old inhabitants of the Reach who were vicious savages’.

Wait. That sounds awfully familiar to me, a Welshman.

A Bit of Hanes Cymraeg (Welsh History) For You:

We were the first people to be colonised by England, and our tribe of the ‘Silures’ was known for being so vicious that we scared the Romans off and fought them back for a considerable length of time before they successfully invaded - considerable enough that the Romans saw it as something worth mentioning. We also scared the Vikings back into the sea.

Now, when England took over, all of our princes were killed. Our language was outlawed and made forbidden. We were annexed to the larger country. Our Druidic beliefs were demonised as backwards and savage, despite our practices being nature-based and rooted in animism. Our Druids were executed.

Witchcraft, however, was rampant. We have always been a witchy country - so much so that when witch trials came to the UK, hardly anybody was executed or tried in Wales because it was seen as something to be revered; we didn’t have ‘witches’; we had ‘wise folk’ who were important and cherished members of our communities.

Another thing to note is that a lot of our history, stories and mythology was erased, and it’s thanks to those who fought for it that we know what we do today (even if it’s meagre).

Cymrophobia and racism towards the people of Cymru is still prevalent in England. It isn’t so bad today, but in the late 90’s, one heinous piece of shit named A.A. Gill described the Welsh as thus:

“Loquacious, dissemblers, immoral liars, stunted, bigoted, dark, ugly, pugnacious little trolls.”

All words you’d likely see the Nords using to describe the Forsworn after ripping their home out from under them.

The Markarth Rising sounds a lot like the Merthyr Rising, too.

Not to mention that the Forsworn, like Duach and Madanach, have distinctly Celtic names. Now, before you start saying “but those names sound Irish/Scottish!” consider the Welsh name ‘Afallach’ - the King of Afallon (Avalon). Now consider that unlike Gaelic, Welsh (alongside it’s little sister, Kernewek (Cornish)) is the closest to Brezhoneg - Breton.

Yes, literally; Breton.

So if Bretons are from High Rock and are Brezhoneg / Gaulish coded, and the offshoot are the Forsworn, that would make the Forsworn Cymraeg.

And it makes sense, too, looking at what information we have about the Forsworn in the game; they were the original, ready to fight ‘savages’ who had their homes taken from them / were forced into poverty by the rich Nords (the same happened in Wales and is still happening with rich English people buying second homes, causing economic catastrophe where none of us can afford houses even though we are native), they were put to work IN THE MINES (literally textbook Cymraeg history), etc.

To Conclude:

I will never fucking side with the Nords. The Reach is for the Forsworn. You can get fucked if you disagree.

“The Reach Will be Ours Again!”

“Ry’n ni Yma O Hyd!”

Several things brought Fabio to Haven, and it wasn't just his son setting the emergency ring off, or even his son's love life. One of them was his comprado reporting his suspicions about another Inquisition member... and Fabio's involvement in a murder investigation from a few years back means he's very motivated to look into it.

This is it.

This is the last in my series reviewing the prisons of Skyrim's hold capitals. Our topic this time is Cidna Mine, easily Skyrim's most infamous jailing facility. My experience in this prison is a large story filled with the good and the bad. So, how does the big daddy of Skyrim jails compare to its peers?

For the first time entering a cell, I was greeted by a staff member and told what was expected of me explicitly. She made it clear that this prison prioritises punishing prisoners with manual labour for the benefit of those in power than any form of rehabilitation. This idea is present throughout the prison itself. My greeting room (which doesn't function as a room for individuals) was only decorated with the essentials for its function. A table and sac containing items unknown. It was here that I was temporarily separated from my associates. The key word there being "temporarily"...

Sofia, who hadn't had her equipment removed (my associates' abilities to not have their things taken continues to baffle me) quickly found my location and then proceeded to show off a new skill of hers.

This woman, in all of her drunkenness, has somehow managed to master the incredible magical art of phasing through cell doors. She didn't pick the lock, she didn't teleport, she phased THROUGH. THE. DOORS. HOW?! I was shocked, and somewhat still am. She still refuses to share the secret of this ability to me to this day.

…Which made it all the more annoying when she almost immediately proceeded to do it again, all without explanation. Sometimes this woman confuses and frightens me.

Putting aside Sofia's ability to defy the very existence of metal cage doors, we were shuffled down into the main open space of the mine. A small fireplace illuminated the dark cavern, littered with pickaxes all throughout for prisoners to use to earn their very survival as the man pictured sitting at the fire told us is the case. What is plainly visible in this prison is function over fashion. The open space is able to account many prisoners at once and the lack of any proper seating/ bedding reinforces the core message of the jail. These prisoners are meant to suffer.

Moving more directly to the left we observe a more dimly lit path filled with ore veins, teeming with silver. A wheelbarrow is handily provided for prisoners to kart any silver they dig up, displaying a degree of efficiency not always seen in Nord mines.

It was while returning to the central cavern that the rest of our team reached our location. Inigo's superior sniffing service allowed him to pinpoint where in the prison I was and rally our friends to regroup. This made navigating the mine and escaping it simultaneously easier thanks to greater collective strength and harder as my friends would often block vital narrow hallways.

The opposing side of the mine was far more cramped than the first, with plenty of loose pickaxes scattered about. Under normal circumstances I'd say the liberal scattering of pointed cold metal tools would be unsafe for prisoners to be around, but seeing as the powers that be clearly do not care for the safety of prisoners at all and very rarely check on them it's not that much of an issue. After fully exploring this side of the mine, I was presented with the question of how to leave the mine.

Uraccen, a prisoner in these mines for many years that was as skinny as a pickaxe's handle and as pale as the snow was very helpful in providing insight as to the culture of prisoners in Cidna Mine, while also pointing me to someone who could aid in my departure from the mine. Madanach, a Forsworn leader who had been orchestrating the terrorist attacks on Markarth from inside Cidna Mine. However, reaching the "King in Rags" required getting past his guard dog.

The brute in question, aptly named Borkul the Beast, was built with a greater toughness than the rocks he leaned upon and a face that not even a mother could love. He guarded the door to Madanach's private room and looked to be a tough nut to crack. In all actuality that couldn't have been further from the truth. All I had to do was lie very slightly to convince him to let me through for an audience with the King in Rags.

Madanach's private space was, in stark contrast to the rest of the mine, was lavishly decorated with a full single bed, a storage chest (or potentially a prisoner belonging chest that may or may not contain Boots of the Old Gods), a desk with chair, multiple barrels, a rug to comfort the feet and plenty of food and drink. This abode is highly luxurious and clearly highlights the special treatment Madanach receives from his arrangement with the Silver Bloods. It highlights how willing the staff operating Cidna Mine are to go the extra mile for their prisoners (assuming said prisoners are high ranking members of the Forsworn with great influence over a native culture that is).

Madanach indulged us with his history, as well as that of many of the prisoners in the Mine. His story is one of oppression, corruption and injustice; three traits that the stories of many of his cellmates share also. In this our group understood the gravity of the Markarth conflict and made a mutual decision to aid in the escape of the prisoners of Cidna Mine so as to deal a blow to the corrupt sphere of Markarth. Before fully accepting our co-operation though, Madanach had us prove our loyalty to helping his cause by... eliminating one of the prisoners.

I took no pride in his assassination. As the smell of cooking flesh entered my nostrils and the emerald embers spewed from his cadaver I fought internally as to why Madanach had felt this a necessity. While yes, the man was beyond a point of benefiting his cause, killing the poor man felt like a betrayal of what Madanach himself had preached only minutes ago. Either way, the deed was done. The poor sap had ascended to Aetherius and I finally had a chance to show off the cool looking green fire magic I had learned, so I suppose it wasn't all bad.

It was after this that Madanach had stated his need to address what prisoners weren't currently burning to a chartreuse crisp in a riveting pre-escape speech. A great idea... were it not for the brief instance of mental rot he experienced on his way there that saw him compelled to forcefully walk into a wall of the narrow hallway between his room and the main cavern. I am unsure as to the explanation behind such brain rot, but the nature of the walls of the hallway were found to be very intriguing by Teldryn, who proceeded to stare blankly at the opposite wall for multiple minutes (perhaps some latant, ancient Dwemer magic at play?). Both did eventually regain their senses, but not before some gentle...ish prodding from myself.

The King in Rags addressed his subjects against the light of the central fire, its flames pitiful versus the fires of ambition in the hearts of these men. Were they not about to commit multiple counts of murder as they escaped the city I would've felt inspired. Now I just feel somewhat dirty.

An outcove of the narrow hallway connecting the central cavern to Madanach's quarters contained the site of a Dwemer ruin, one running in connection with the city above us. Knowing what dangers lie within such ruins from experience, our team steeled themselves for the dangers that may have laid ahead.

The first hurdles we encountered were some particularly large Frostbite Spiders who had nested inside the ruins (not pictured above because my girlfriend reads these posts and is afraid of Frostbite Spiders). They proved surprisingly resistant to being burned to death by my green fire spells, but were no match for my teammates' steel.

Traversing deeper into the ruins presented us with greater volumes of Dwemer steam technology, from heavy piping to active Dwemer Sphere units that posed a danger to me, for the rags I wore aren't exactly Ebony quality. Once again, my allies proved invaluable in defeating the threats before us. I only wish I could have helped more.

It was soon after that the prisoner convoy reached a halt before the exit out into the city proper. Madanach took this time to take me aside, thank the team for assisting in his cause, returning my items to me (where he got them from I'm not certain considering the evident lack of a prisoner belonging chest in my case) and presenting me with the Armour of the Old Gods (See? I knew it was in that chest from earlier!) before leading his forces outside, where my friends and I quickly followed.

Awaiting us outside was the lord of the Silver-Bloods, Thonar, with multiple city guardsmen at his side. He challenged Madanach and his allies in broad daylight and tried to put an end to the Forsworn uprising in the city.

A massive fight ensued. Spells and swords clashed in this tiny corner of the city as Nords and Bretons fought valiantly in battle for their beliefs. We decided to refrain from getting involved in the fighting in this case (much to Sofia and Jordan's disappointment). Not that the Forsworn particularly needed our help. They mopped the floor with Thonar and his men.

No, as in they quite literally mopped the floor with Thonar. an interrupted necromancy spell saw the Silver-Blood's corpse reduced to an ash pule which was brushed all over the steps of the city. This combined with all the Nord blood staining the floors proved the Forsworn did LITERALLY mop the floor with the Nords.

Soon enough the battle was over, and as what was left of the guard saw to the dead and injured I was left to reflect on my time in Cidna Mine.

Overall, Cidna Mine is an exceptional jail that has effective staff, a strong and open layout, knows what it wants to be, generates a passive income through silver mining and great luxury (provided you are a Forsworn leader). Escape is also effectively deterred by the natural denizens of the dwemer ruins that connect the city streets to the mine. Although, I do take issue with the strong lack of prisoner observation and the multiple exit points the mine has out into the city. Those limitations place it short of The Chill in my personal rankings (which may end up being a post on here later), but still very much in the top echelon of Skyrim's jails.

Final Score: Nine Boots of the Old Gods out of Ten Boots of the Old Gods.

Aaaaaaand that's it! Thank you for reading my prison review series and (hopefully) enjoying my perspectives on these locations. I'm sorry some of them took a while to make (mental health's a bitch, am I right?), but I intend to post more often now on Tumblr. Mostly shitposts and memes and whatever comes to mind (most of which will be Skyrim stuff)

We've had Sexymen, we may be getting sexywomen soon, so how about crowning the Elder Scrolls' No. 1 GILF?

Many thanks to @elavoria for providing me with a large variety of Morrowind and Oblivion elderly to choose from. All characters are chosen at their oldest age.

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this, and it's still nowhere near as good as I would have liked, but here it is!! (I'd link the original prompt list but I can't seem to find it anymore either??) __________________

Rienn is shaking like a leaf by the time she manages to crawl into a small space between two rocks, where the stone and a bush that is more thorns than anything else provide at least some semblance of cover. Enough to hide her shape in the dark, at least, and perhaps it will offer some protection from the wind as well. She knows she’s not made to withstand the cold that Skyrim’s nights bring, not without the right clothing at least – she’s known this ever since the night Farkas found her shivering under the Gildergreen and dragged her back to Jorrvaskr despite her protests.

Right now though, she doesn’t have much of a choice. She cannot afford to be found, not after escaping from Cidhna mine with a group of Forsworn. There are so many reasons why she has to remain hidden for now, and then look for a way to get out of the city without being noticed. She can’t use the Thu’um like this, can’t risk revealing herself while she’s without her mask and wearing a prisoner’s clothes. And besides, her mind is still reeling from all that she’s learned while in that mine. It’ll take a while for her to come to terms with it, she thinks, and in the meantime, she doesn’t want to risk being pulled into another conflict that is not yet hers.

Maybe it was a mistake, slipping away from Madanach and his friends instead of following them out of the city. She would not be stuck at least. But then again, she has no guarantee that she would have been free to leave after getting out of Markarth. But if she is to seek out Madanach again, she wants it to be on her own terms – if she is truly of the Reach as he says, he will have to respect her wishes on that.

She loses track of time after a while, though she assumes that the sun won’t come up for some hours yet. It has started to rain at some point, and by now her clothes, already ragged to begin with, are soaked through. There still hasn’t been an opportunity to slip out of the city or at least back to the inn, the guards are too vigilant still, and for all Rienn knows, they might be looking for her as well – perhaps the surviving Silver-Blood brother’s already put a price on her head. For the time being, the glow of a torch means danger, and every time she sees it, she tries to press herself further back into the shadows, hoping it will be enough.

She counts the torches as a means to keep herself busy and awake – can’t afford to fall asleep, not now, no matter how tired she is. The guards always move in the same pattern, and soon their rounds become predictable. At least Rienn thinks that’s why, when someone deviates from the pattern, she notices it immediately. They come closer to her hiding place than all the other guards, and for a moment, fear settles like a horrible weight in her stomach – just until she realizes that these two are not guards at all, but her friends.

They look angry, Rienn realizes. They’re not close enough for her to see their faces, but she’s known the twins long enough to understand their body language. When Vilkas is angry, he carries himself like he’s about to strike at any moment, and right now, he looks downright dangerous. With Farkas, it’s harder to tell, but even he seems tense, his hands twitching as if he’s preparing to reach for his blade.

Rienn wonders if they are looking for her, but it doesn’t seem like it – instead, they are moving towards the mine at a brisk pace, though she has no idea what they would want there. Surely word has already spread to the inn. They must know that no prisoners remain inside Cidhna mine. Still, them being here might turn out to be her only chance to get back to them. She has no idea whether another opportunity like this might present itself anytime soon. She has to reach them, but there is also a guard approaching, and while he’d usually make a turn to the left and not even pass her, if she moved out of her hiding spot now, she’d be right in his field of vision. And if that man gets to her before she gets to her friends…

It’s a risk she has to take, and she cannot let herself think of the consequences. In her current attire, she’s easily recognized as a prisoner, and no matter how long she waits, she won’t get to safety without help. It has not be now. With that decision made, she forces herself to stand. Her movements are slower than she’s used to from the cold and from sitting in a crouched position for so long, and she’s got cuts on her feet that haven’t yet had time to heal, but she can’t allow herself to be held back by either of these things. She somehow manages to squeeze her way past the bush, thorns leaving scratches on her bare arms, and back onto the street. A quick glance confirms that the guard, quite possibly having noticed the movement, quickens his pace.

Rienn stops herself from cursing and starts to run.

It’s probably more of a hobble, really, and every step hurts and she knows she could easily trip and fall, but she has to make it, the twins have their backs turned to her now and she can’t let that guard catch up to her before the two Companions notice her. She could have yelled for them at any time, she knows, but that would have drawn more attention to both her and the twins, and even with all three of them, they can’t face the entire city guard, not without her voice. And so she forces herself to run until she’s close enough that they’ll hear her even when she isn’t yelling, and then -

“Vilkas!” She doesn’t know why she calls for him first, but he turns to face her immediately. The torch he’d been holding clatters to the ground, and she barely has the time to see the look on his face, pain and anger morphing into relief, before she’s in his arms. He nearly lifts her off her feet, and she can’t remember ever being held this tightly before. “Thank the Divines, you’re alive,” he mutters, and Rienn finds she can’t do anything but wrap her arms around him in turn. “We thought they’d killed you,” Vilkas continues, and he sounds so pained that it’s almost unsettling. “When you didn’t escape with the other prisoners, I thought, maybe...”

His voice is shaking, even his hands are trembling a little, and Rienn comes to the startling realization that she’s never seen him lose his composure quite like this. He is a far more emotional man than most people assume, but this, she isn’t used to. Then again, he was probably heading towards the mine to look for a body, and she doesn’t want to think about that. “I’m fine, I’m fine, just a little bruised,” she whispers back to him instead, hoping that it might calm him down.

The effect, however, is the exact opposite. His hold on her tightens even further, one hand resting on the back of her head, the other between her shoulder blades. “If those Forsworn harmed you in any way...” he begins to say. Rienn immediately shakes her head, even though he can only sense it as movement against his shoulder. “It wasn’t them,” she sighs, knowing there will be a lot to explain later on. “Please trust me on this. They didn't do anything, most of it’s from the escape, and it’s nothing that a healing potion won’t fix.”

Vilkas doesn’t answer, but keeps holding her as if she’d vanish the moment he let her go. He touches her like she’s fragile, precious. Runs his fingers through her hair as if to comfort her, though she’s not quite certain whether he’s doing it for her, or if it’s to convince himself that she’s really here. She’s too tired to ask him about it, and she doubts she’d ask even if she had the strength for it. She doesn’t think she has any right to ask, so she doesn’t, and simply enjoys being held.

Rienn is vaguely aware of Farkas cheerily telling the guard that it’s in his own best interest to walk awaynow– Farkas can be astoundingly intimidating if he wants to be – and then there’s a blanket being wrapped around her shoulders. She recognizes it as one of those they’ve brought from Whiterun; it smells like home.

“We should leave,” Farkas says after a moment, “Aela’s camp isn’t far from the city, and we don’t want any more guards asking questions.” “The gate guards will, anyway,” Rienn mumbles. “They better not, if they know what’s good for them,” Vilkas replies, then lets go only long enough to completely wrap her up in the blanket and pick her up again. “Wait… what about my things? My mask?” Rienn asks, her voice once again muffled as her head rests against Vilkas’ shoulder. He understands her anyway. “Already with Aela,” he reassures her. “It’s alright, you can rest. Don’t fall asleep though. Too cold for that still.”

Age of the Dragon, based on @ms-katonic-of-tamriel 's Skyrim and Dragon Age crossover, Age of the Dragon, which I will link to in a reblog because I actually want this to show up in the tags for freaking once.

So, guess who has a tablet again! Naturally, after a little messing around I went right to the MOST DIFFICULT THING ON MY TO-DO LIST. Because hubris.  Because I enjoy the style and (apparently) punishing myself, I went with the three-window format again, only this time, I did all three stained glass windows. Elisif, naturally, is in her Halamshiral ball gown, because I will never turn down a chance to put someone in a pretty pretty princess dress. Alistair is in Warden Armor with Spoilers Dog, while Madanach is holding adorable little Maia in his Barbarian Chic outfit, complete with gold skulls and Vale cat fur. Their windows are the Deep Roads, The Breach, and Markarth-themed, respectively. I learned SO MUCH doing this one, guys. Not just my new tablet, but some lighting effects and textures, hair, the always-dreaded Drawing Men, armor, and dogs. Dogs are surprisingly hard to draw. And if he looks big, well, Skyrim dogs are based on Irish wolfhounds, and my friend has one. In other words, he may actually be too small, but I made an entire suit of armor and covered half of it with a dog and a poofy skirt. Also, if I never have to draw the Grey Warden symbol again, it will be too soon. I hope you all like it as much as I do, and I'd love to hear your thoughts!