#onmund
Urag gro-Shub: Shh! Did everybody hear that? Do you know what that sound was?
The apprentices: *all look at each other nervously*
Onmund:What?
Urag gro-Shub: That was the sound of my patience shattering into a billion little pieces!
Been feeling very sad lately, so I decided to draw something sweet and very self-indulgent. I miss Skyrim, but I can’t afford to fall back into that bottomless pit just yet.
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The Dremora Lord you can conjure to fight for you is a very over-motivated fellow! He’s always the first to spot any enemies and instantly starts shouting and then runs off to fight. He’s only got a few different phrases and repeats them all the time, so he can be a little annoying. However, I ended up growing quite fond of his constant “I smell weakness!!!” shout which makes him a great enemy detector!
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It’s my first playthrough where I’m seriously focusing on magic and I’ve grown very fond of the mage apprentices in the College of Winterhold!
And of course there’s my own dark elf character :D
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This is the first time I’ve done fully-rendered art of these two, and I’m really proud of it. Here’s a tiny snippet from their story, The Book of Ysmir, which I’ve been working on for about two years. I’m finishing the whole fic before I publish. It’s been a labor of love and there’s still a long way to go, but it’s coming along!
The passage below takes place by the Crabber’s Shanty, which might be my favorite location in the game. Hope you like it ❤️
Onmund stared out at the glittering expanse. The row of jagged mountains dividing the horizon made him feel like he was standing inside the mouth of an old, dead god, gazing out at the forever-vastness of heaven—Mundus before Nirn, a black void studded with light, each pinpoint a gate to the plane beyond. He looked up, up, up, and still he saw nothing but layers upon layers of stars retreating into eternity. They reminded him, more than ever, that he was small. A man in a sea of constellations. A blink in time.
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Why does this mage have a six-pack? Because he had to work out to bear the sheer weight of my wishful thinking.
I love you guys. Thank you.
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Why does this mage have a six-pack? Because he had to work out to bear the sheer weight of my wishful thinking.
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Day 2: The lightning between us
For@tes-summer-fest | Storms & Magic
***
It’s hard to tell them why I flinch when I hear that crack of thunder. You could barely hear the rain hitting the roof in the noisy halls of Jorrvaskr, everyone fighting for elbow room at the crowded tables. But when the thunder rolls in, everyone stops for a second. Like they’re all just holding their breath for something… and then everyone’s back to shouting over each other.
And I’m always left there, nursing my drink and staying real quiet.
Aela asks if I was always afraid of thunder, if that was the one thing that scared me stupid. Ria says there’s nothing to be ashamed of, that she gets jumpy even at night. Athis laughs us all off, says that in Morrowind, the lightning’s ten times as worse and five times as loud. Farkas doesn’t push or prod or does any of those things, he just asks if I need a minute and if my mug needed topping off.
I always say yes, because every time I hear the thunder, every time I see lightning flashing through the windows, I always think of Onmund.
Not everyone knows, not here. I figure since I’m not really a Companion, they don’t always have to know. But Farkas does, he knows the story. I think I might have told Aela once, and maybe Ria. The story of how I caught Onmund nearly setting fire to the dry grass outside Kynesgrove, fooling about with his magic. The season had been poor, everyone had been struggling, we didn’t need a mage setting fire to the whole village.
And no matter how much I tried to bluster with my anger, no matter how much I try to be bigger than him, I was always afraid of admitting how frightened I was of him. My own brother, the one I helped feed and change when Ma was too busy in the fields. The same one I taught how to swing an axe, or consoled when people had made fun of the way he spoke. I was afraid of him. I was afraid of his magic.
It haunts me, to think that I could think that way, feel that way about my own blood. Onmund was always a gentle sort, always saw a softer world. Why did the Divines give him powers like that? Why couldn’t he have been a healer? The alderman would have seen fit to place him in a temple, someplace safe where he wouldn’t have to worry about his next meal.
“Hey, got you more.” Farkas shakes me out of my thoughts, and just in time. My stomach begins to rumble and he puts down a plate of fried everything; sausages and potatoes and thick, fatty chunks of salmon. All served with a dollop of Tilma’s snowberry jam.
“Thanks.”
“Got lost in your head there.”
“Sorry, it’s… it’s hard.”
“I know.” Farkas never seems to run out of optimism. I’m half tempted to ask if Belethor happens to keep them in stock. “But we’ll fix it.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to fix.” I slump in my seat, poking at the sausage. “He’s a mage, end of story. Not a lot we can do about that.”
“Sure.” Farkas takes a big bite out of his own plate, speaking with a mouth full of food. It’s kind of charming. “But how much trouble can he get into?” He takes a big swallow. “After all, he’s your brother and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
“Nice of you to say.”
“I mean it.” Farkas leans over and claps me on the shoulder. “But let’s take things one day at a time, got a lot to do tomorrow.”
Right, I had almost forgotten—
BOOM!
I yelp in shock at the thunder practically rattles the whole hall, followed by an explosion of laughter and the clinking of mugs.
And to my embarrassment, I had jumped right into Farkas’s chest.
Thecad.
He laughs at my reaction, a rumbly sound that puts a smile to my face. “Don’t worry, that one got me good too.”
Farkas stayed with me for the rest of the night before we headed off on our next journey. And for a while, with him by my side, the thunder didn’t quite scare me as much.
CHAPTER 27
And then Svana felt a chilling touch along her neck. She turned around and fell backwards, dropping the torch as she landed, screaming and pointing at the spectral being that jumped at her.
By Talos, it was a ghost! Glowing and translucent with a menacing, otherworldly grin. “You’ve disturbed my rest!” it shrieked. “Now you’ll pay for it!”
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