Corentine
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“You have tangled horns, and a horned tail. The shape of your cloak… have you wings, as well?”
Already quite fed up of this interaction, and moreso at being stared at so shamelessly, Morgott thumps his staff against the ground in lieu of a stamped foot, “Doth thine eye not tell thee as much? Wherefore then must I answer such an inane question! Am I a dog to preen for thy amusement? Let me inside, or not!” Unwittingly his voice slides into a low, bestial growl.
The people on the wall look suitably timorous, but there is a certain wonder shimmering among the gormless faces. They swiftly duck behind the balustrade, but Morgott still hears their murmuring voices carry: “He has the choler of a dancing lion.”
“And he’s thrice-blessed to boot. Quick, find Grandam, tell her another Crucible-touched has come. Perhaps it is a divine message.”
Morgott cares not what auspicious sign they believe him to be; he is here for his own reasons. As indeed is Mohg, and if the people here believe otherwise then they are fools.
Morgott and Tarnished venture to a land cloaked in shadow.
Series
- Part 13 of Unstoppable Force | Immovable Object
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Haydn waits expectantly. Which then morphs into a slowly-raising eyebrow as he realises that Morgott, crisply-spoken and decisive and impatient Veiled Monarch Morgott, is hesitating. When he does speak, it’s very careful: “It hath not escaped my notice that thou hast been… exceedingly loyal, to Leyndell. And its king. As reward for leal service, it is customary for knights to be offered… a boon.”
He blinks owlishly at him, “What sort of boon?”
Morgott gestures airily. It has a touch of the this is as far as I rehearsed to it. “Few things are out of a monarch’s power to give. Request what thou wilt.”
King Morgott of Leyndell aims to reward a loyal Tarnished knight for his service, but could not have anticipated what the Tarnished would ask for - or where it would lead.
Series
- Part 12 of Unstoppable Force | Immovable Object
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“We could, we could…” he’s out of ideas. He knows Margit isn’t speaking in hyperbole, if he’s seen the Erdtree burn before. But it seems completely insane to Haydn that whatever force is behind the guidance of grace would move him to such mass destruction, when it also wants him to become Elden Lord and preside over a new age. It doesn’t line up with him destroying everything. “Grace wants me to do this, and grace is supposed to be good,” he lands on at last. Even Margit can’t deny that – his whole thing is venerating graceborn and spurning curseborn, himself included. “That has to mean there’s a future in which the Erdtree is okay again. And – and maybe Leyndell too, eventually. After the ash is cleared.”
But Margit just shakes his head, his voice hoarse. “It would not undo the damage done. I can speak no more plainly, Tarnished. If the Erdtree burns, thou condemns me to live in failure, and shame. So this must end here.”
Grace has guided tarnished to the final steps of Flame Peak, to burn the Erdtree. But there is one final, immovable obstacle in the way.
Series
- Part 11 of Unstoppable Force | Immovable Object
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“The Erdtree is but a tool,” she speaks steadily, and the limb snaps into place with a scatter of arcane sparks. Metal fingers flex around a slender blade that forms part of the prosthesis. “And a tool for the Outer Gods, at that. It cannot be saved, nor should it be.”
These are bold words for the Erdtree’s number one fan, and Haydn casts an unsure glance his way. He sees the knuckles of those great hands tighten around his gnarled staff, along with the line of Margit’s jaw. “I must disagree,” he returns, clipped, on the knife edge of civility.
“You are short-sighted,” she tells him. The softness of her voice does nothing to mask the bluntness of her words. “Accept the last gasp of this era, Morgott. Miquella’s Age approacheth, and if you interfere, I will intervene.”
Tarnished and Margit venture to the Haligtree, where Tarnished finds more than he bargained for.
Series
- Part 10 of Unstoppable Force | Immovable Object
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The focus of this temple-platform is a great statue of an unknown nox scholar, robed and bearded and lost to the ages. Perched atop the serene countenance, with an almost lackadaisical grace contrast to his great bulk, is the Lord of Blood in his winged glory. Bat-corvid feathers a blot against the star-strewn false sky. As effortless and dangerous as any bird of prey.
“You’ll forgive the staging,” he calls down to Haydn. Despite said staging his whispering voice may as well be next to Haydn’s ear, sending a prickle up his nape. “One never knows how a tarnished will react to bad news. I’d rather not be in hitting distance.”
Tarnished stumbles into the worst possible place.
Series
- Part 9 of Unstoppable Force | Immovable Object
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Summary
Slow burn romance between Morgott, veiled monarch who thrives off religious guilt, and Haydn the tarnished knight, who's subtly trying to woo Margit the Fell. Likely to have further canon divergence from ER's plot as the series progresses.
- Words:
- 225,714
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- 13
- Bookmarks:
- 115
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Summary
Follows the 'arrangement' between Ciardha Hawke and Orsino after the First Enchanter trades himself for Hawke's political alliance. All stories contain dubious consent/reluctance, humiliation, plus numerous other fetishes.
Also contains a few side stories of the other people Ciardha sleeps with, which is basically everyone he can get his hands on.
- Words:
- 25,809
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 20
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Summary
The ongoing explicit exploits of Fenris and Garrett Hawke, who definitely has a misplaced Qunari somewhere in his lineage. All stories contain slash and size kink.
Also note, this deviates slightly from the in-game romance in that the cut-and-run one night stand never happened. Hawke is a leisurely-paced sort, so it was a more gradual build-up over the three years instead.
- Words:
- 23,509
- Works:
- 5
- Bookmarks:
- 146
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A thin, gray hand emerged from the folds of his cloak. The Creature’s telltale scales swayed, held aloft by the crook of a single finger. The Fell stared, jaw clenched. Tail stiff. Fur risen across his shoulders. The outside chill took root beneath his ribs, scouring his bones. He recognized the engraved artifact that weighed the instrument on one side. His shackle.
“Unbalanced,” the Creature lamented.
“I made no bargain with thee,” the Fell hissed.
“You made no bargain with me,” the Creature echoed amenably. “You are the prize he bargained for.”
The Fell Omen's eye is brimming with Grace. Executor saw it, behind the gauzy veil of Night that shrouds his face. A man so blessed by the Crucible does not deserve to be a puppet of the Nightlords. But Executor should be cautious when making deals with a Demon.
Bookmarked by Corentine
23 Oct 2025