cw slavery

The Signs as Daedra Lords
  • Aries:Molag Bal, Daedric Prince of domination and enslavement, and father of the vampires. His plane of Oblivion is Coldharbour.
  • Taurus:Jyggalag, Daedric Prince of order. He roams the voids of Oblivion.
  • Gemini:Hermaeus Mora, Daedric Prince of fate, knowledge and memory. His plane of Oblivion is Apocrypha.
  • Cancer:Malacath, Daedric Prince of the spurned and ostracised, and patron to the Orcs. His plane of Oblivion is Ashpit.
  • Leo:Sanguine, Daedric Prince of hedonistic revelry, debauchery, and passionate indulgences. His hundred thousand realms of Oblivion includes Misty Grove.
  • Virgo:Meridia, Daedric Prince of life energies. Her plane of Oblivion is the Colored Rooms.
  • Libra:Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of non-linear thought. His plane of Oblivion is the Shivering Isles.
  • Scorpio:Boethiah, Daedric Prince of deceit, conspiracy, assassination, and treason. Their plane of Oblivion is Snake Mount.
  • Sagittarius:Hircine, Daedric Prince of the hunt and master of the werewolves. His plane of Oblivion is the Hunting Grounds.
  • Capricorn:Mehrunes Dagon, Daedric Prince of destruction, change, revolution, energy and ambition. His plane of Oblivion is the Deadlands.
  • Aquarius:Nocturnal, Daedric Prince of the night and darkness. Her plane of Oblivion is the Evergloam.
  • Pisces:Azura, Daedric Prince of dusk and dawn. Her plane of Oblivion is Moonshadow.
4

this past month I have been trying to find my Tuor face but as you can see, I haven’t been successful :S I figured I would post the less boring sketches i’ve produced, since i couldn’t get anything done for his day… there are some comments in the captions but yeah…. /fails

(the theme was, as you can see, slavery)

The Tribute

He was born to serve the Master.

His parents? A planned breeding from a neighboring clan. Seeking something worthy, worthy enough to satisfy the golden dictator of Frejlandt. His father? Forced to see his firstborn thrown into the hands of a monster. Of Master.

The firstborn was a gift, a tribute - it was his entire purpose and identity, so Master made it his name as well. Master shaped the tribute’s body with magic into something that would fit more pleasantly against his own.

And Master kept the tribute at his side, dressed in the softest silks, the most teasing feathers, whatever Master wanted to touch at the time.

Poor tribute, he knew no better.

Poor tribute, he stands so proud at his Master’s side.

Poor tribute. Beautiful tribute. Doomed to the Master’s lair.

Captive Gods: Shadow

In Master’s attempts to capture and tame the world around him, it was inevitable he finally reach the gods. After owning the ice, the snow, and even the spectral aurora, he set out to reign over the eleven elemental masters themselves. 

The first was Shadow

[[The following excerpt was written by LadyRowyn, who owned the dragon before me. She is an excellent writer and deserves heaps of praise - go tell her so!]]

A dragon’s life is duty.

Duty to one’s clan, before all else.

To one’s flight and one’s god, next.

Thence to all of dragonkind.

Only after these duties are satisfied may one consider the wishes and desires of one’s own self. Indeed, any wish or desire one might have which conflicts with these three paramount duties would be base villainy to fulfill. No, not villainy, but wrong, so wrong that its fulfillment will bring one only misery. Like eating candied arsenic: one may think it delicious, but it is still poison, and it can only destroy.

If you don’t understand these things, you can never hope to understand me.

It doesn’t matter whether or not I love my mate, Starlight. The important thing is that our children are shimmering, iridescent, triple-gened beauties whose bride or groom-price enriches the clan. It is not out of indifference that I ask they be named by their future clans, but out of consideration for that future home. It is not out of greed that I wish our clan to be enriched, but so that our riches may be spent for the greater glory of the Windsinger.

Would I love my children less if they had dull patternless scales, or clashing colors? Of course not. But to seek less than the best for them would be a failure of my duty to dragonkind. That duty dictates that I produce the finest young within my capability, that I add to the glory of my race insofar as I am able.

And if they do not enhance or beautify the race, then there is honor too in being exalted to Windsinger. It is no punishment to go to our god! It is a reward for faithful service. A reward we should all look forward to one day receiving. Of course, while we are needed in this world below the gods, we must remain, do our duties to clan and race, for in so doing we serve one part of the gods’ goals for us. But when we are not so needed, let us go with gratitude and joy to the embrace of Windsinger. Let his warm winds carry us ever higher into the Cloudsong.

I do not understand why these simple, obvious truths cause such conflicts among dragons. There are those who say the world is cruel, those who think the clans or gods villainous because we have not limitless space in our lairs, or because rare and beautiful dragons are prized more than ugly or common ones, or because dragons may not return permanently to a lair or bear young after exaltation. Those who wish to defy their duty, to nest with unsuitable mates, to stay where they are not needed, or to demand others remain despite their clear Calling to exaltation. To them I say: your cup of Want is full of poison. Do not drink of it.

Put it aside, and do as duty bids.

One from each element, Master decided. A boy that he could play with. And, of course, they would have to be perfect.

They would be bred of the element, and their bodies reflect the element from dark to light.

When he found the shadow dragon - Lord Auros, he was called - Master realized he had not simply found visual perfection, but perfection of spirit as well. This dragon understood what it meant to serve a higher power. He understood duty above all things. He understood the realities of service, behind the glamor, behind the idealistic propaganda.

Master bound him, tender, in dark jewels with shadowed centers. He marked the dragon with Shadow’s emblem and bid his body sparkle like crystal. He took the dragon to his chambers and showed him what service truly meant, and then he took the dragon’s very name.

When Shadow’s initiation was complete Master allowed him freedom to preach his dedication through the clan. “Go,” Master bid him, “and teach them of their duty to me.”

katadesis asked:

?

Send me a ? and my character will ask yours a question they’ve always wanted to but never have.

 He’s uncomfortable, the question that
weighs his tongue is one that could very
likely be awkward, but he’s morbidly
curious in equal measure to his fear
of the answer.

      In Tevinter,
          they tell me elves and
          humans are still enslaved…

 Rohan clears his throat and his right hand
fusses with his blackened left hand before
he continues on. He can’t quite look at
Casira because he fears that she’ll think
he’s accusing her.

      Does that mean,
        that you aren’t against slavery?

salon.com
Ben & Skip’s bogus journey: We need to face Affleck’s slave-owning ancestor — and mine — now more than ever

[Baptist’s] central thesis, as he dryly observes, is one that many people are not eager to hear: It was “the commodification and suffering and forced labor of African Americans” that made our country rich, and set it on course to become a global economic and military power. Furthermore, the greatest moral wrong slavery did not lie in the fact that it deprived African-Americans of their rights as citizens of a liberal democracy. All you have to do in that case, Baptist archly observes, is extend them those rights, perhaps “even elect one of them as president,” and the issue has been laid to rest. Slavery was also a crime of physical and economic violence, a work of “massive and cruel engineering” that killed and brutalized many people and stole the entire productive lives of those who survived. 

One.

There was one egg.

That would be her legacy? A single egg? Ha!

Lydmila refused to look at it or Nirav, storming from the cavern that housed the nests, the other dragons there cowering in fear that her anger may be taken out on them. 

Oh, they need not fear. She would take it out on another later, particularly after the egg hatched. If it was not to her liking, oh, she would likely kill Nirav where he stood, leave his corpse as a reminder to others. And to herself.

She was foolish to think she was meant to have her own young. This was the Plaguemother telling her she was meant for other things, bigger things, that she should be focusing on her goal and not on her retched “feelings” for that damned dragon. 

She returned to her perch, high above the rest of her lair, and watched as her prizes squirmed in their chains, aware that they may be the brunt of her rage despite being trophies. 

She liked watching them fight the chains, it put her in a slightly better mood, a toothy grin coming to her mouth beneath all her adornments.

caiido cont.

It wasn’t Jason’s idea to come here, he had tagged along with his mother who wanted a little help now that Jason had finished building his own place and moved into it, though truthfully he had gotten a bad vibe as soon as they arrived. The idea of owning anyone, especially an angel, the idea filled him with a little dread. Apparently he was one of the only people that felt like this, he saw the excitement in the other people around him, it didn’t take a witch to figure that out.

He thought briefly about flinging seats at some of the buyers, he could do it with a thought at the back of his mind, it would serve some of them right.

Though it was the looks on some of their faces that caused him to make a purchase of his own. Jason might have been a grumpy ass most of the time, but he wasn’t cruel. He saw another way out of this angel going home with those that might have caused him harm. Or at least tried to, he wasn’t entirely caught up on what they could do.

He kept a neutral look on his face when he finally approached and took the chains, hoping that his eyes conveyed some of the disgust. “Thank you.” He took the tape as he started towards his truck.

“Lets get you out of here.”

Seeking Perfection

Master’s desires are simple: to collect, conquer, and control.

Collecting is idle play; he’s seen it all, from the most common moths to the fractured emerald bee that rests near Apharahn’s ear. He hoards what’s scarce and spends carelessly on everything else, checking boxes one by one by one.

Conquering is a more serious occupation. Conquering started small, with the frozen crags of his home. Master gathered dragons in ice and white, in every shape and size male and female alike. When his lair teemed with creatures that shone like the snow, he sat above them on his throne and considered ice owned. The aurora was next; Master chased after all the gentle hues, caging them in little spectrums until he was content to consider the sky lights his subject. What was left then? Only the gods and the bleak distant heavens, and who was he to refuse a challenge?

Now control, control is most important. Control takes time, energy, repetition. Control can be concocted from any number of emotions: awe, wonder, loyalty, fear. The latter, of course, is always most reliable. Whether bound or bridled or walking free, all of Master’s dragons move to his beat, all of them dance when he touches their strings, and all of them tremble when he walks by. Control is absolute, unquestioned, and through whatever pain: accepted.