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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Scrollstuck
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Published:
2013-05-19
Completed:
2013-06-29
Words:
19,069
Chapters:
32/32
Comments:
161
Kudos:
96
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14
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3,163

The Journals of Karkat Vantas, Nerevarine

Summary:

In the waning years of the Third Era, when Dagoth Ur still sat plotting within Red Mountain and the blighted ash still fell across the island of Vvardenfell, a prisoner born of a certain sign to uncertain parents was transported without explanation from the Imperial City to the province of Morrowind.

His name was Karkat Vantas, and this is his tale.

Notes:

How this began:
Me: *gets the urge to play through an Elder Scrolls game as Karkat. Chooses the one where you play a prophesied messiah figure in an Ancestor-obsessed culture.*
Friend: Oh, man, that is perfect.
Friend: Dark Elf, natch?
Me: Of course.

If you've played Morrowind, you know the plot of this. This is just that plot as viewed from a Dunmer Karkat's perspective. He won't always be accurate in trying to figure things out, but then, Elder Scrolls Lore is inherently self-contradictory. In Tamriel, the reliable narrator does not exist, and that's part of the charm of the setting. On top of that, I occasionally take a few liberties myself and employ "head-lore". Game-play related notes that I think are interesting or amusing will be included at the end of some chapters.

These days, I typically run through Elder Scroll games by playing an imported version of some fictional character I'm fond of. Sometimes I start the game and then pick the character, sometimes I pick the character and then choose the game. This time I went the second route.

I've been playing Elder Scrolls since Daggerfall, and I adore the setting and its extensive lore. That said, no, I haven't played Skyrim yet. I tend to wait until Bethesda puts out an "all DLC included" version (and even then, I think I may need to get a better computer before tackling Skyrim).

Chapter 1: Happy Fucking Birthday

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Introduction: Some years after the start of the Fourth Era, an expedition into ruined Vvardenfell uncovered a chest filled with a curious collection of "journals". These journals were written in the margins and empty spaces of texts chosen seemingly at random, and often notes and other pieces of paper were appropriated for the same purpose and then simply folded and inserted into one or the other of the texts. Occasionally, a note is added relating to the material of the original text itself, but that is rare. Most often, there appears no connection.

The first text to be appropriated for use as a journal is a copy of The Firmament by Ffoulke, although the back of a curious little note is also used, in addition to a few sheets of blank paper. The handwriting is neat and consists of uniform capital letters, although it's written in a curious gray ink.

16 LAST SEED, SE 427

RIGHT. SO WHERE DO I EVEN FUCKING START HERE?

OBVIOUSLY, I DON’T EVEN HAVE MY ACTUAL JOURNALS, OR I WOULDN’T BE WRITING THIS SHIT IN THE MARGINS OF A BOOK I SNAGGED OFF THE SHELVES OF THE EXCISE OFFICE IN SEYDA NEEN. “OH, WAIT, KARKAT,” I’D HEAR YOU ASK IF YOU FUCKING CARED, WHICH I’M SURE YOU DON’T, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN SEYDA NEEN?” WHILE I WOULD ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY LOVE TO GIVE A RATIONAL ANSWER FOR THAT, THE TRUTH IS TOO IDIOTIC TO QUALIFY AS ONE.

I WAS ARRESTED. AGAIN. AND NO, IT WASN’T MY FUCKING FAULT THIS TIME. I *WASN’T* THE ONE WHO STARTED THE BAR FIGHT. OKAY, SURE, MAYBE THE OTHER GUY OBJECTED TO BEING CALLED A DUNG-SNIFFER WHO’D SOONER BE MADE AN IMP’S BITCH THAN ACTUALLY HOLD HIS OWN AGAINST A GOBLIN SKIRMISHER, BUT IF THE SHITHEAD COULDN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH, HE HAD NO BUSINESS IN THE BLOATED FLOAT CARRYING ON LIKE SOME SORT OF ARENA CHAMPION WHEN YOU COULD TELL BY LOOKING AT HIM THAT HE BARELY KNEW HOW TO WALK IN ARMOR. THINGS GOT OUT OF HAND, AND BEFORE I COULD GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE THE CITY GUARD WAS RUSHING IN AND I FOUND MYSELF WAITING TO BE SLAPPED WITH THE USUAL IDIOTIC FINES BECAUSE TRIAL? I’M OBVIOUSLY GUILTY OF BEING POOR SO WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I GET A TRIAL? BUT INSTEAD OF THAT, NEXT THING I KNOW I’M BEING LOADED ONTO A SHIP WITHOUT ANY EXPLANATION, LIKE I’M A PIECE OF FUCKING CARGO, AND SHIPPED OFF TO GODS ONLY KNOW WHERE. WELL, OBVIOUSLY, I KNOW NOW, BECAUSE I’M HERE, BUT HEY, IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE TO HEAR SOMETHING ABOUT THAT BEFORE WE PULLED INTO PORT!

BUT THEN, MAYBE SOMEONE DID SAY SOMETHING, AND I MISSED IT. WHEN I WOKE UP, THE DAMNED SHIP WAS WRECKED. I MEAN, NOT WRECKED WRECKED, LIKE, IT HADN’T CRASHED OR SUNK OR WHATEVER SHIPS DO, BUT EVERYTHING INSIDE IT WAS TOSSED AROUND AND A LOT OF SHIT WAS BROKEN. ONE OF THE OTHER PRISONERS SAID THERE HAD BEEN A STORM ON THE WAY OVER AND THAT I SLEPT RIGHT THROUGH IT, WHICH IS… PRETTY DAMN WEIRD FOR ME, REALLY. I’VE ALWAYS BEEN A PRETTY FUCKING LIGHT SLEEPER, AND THAT’S ONLY WHEN I CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF THE RIGHT KIND OF RESTORES TO AVOID IT. FUCK SLEEP, SHIT NEEDS TO GET DONE. BUT SOMEHOW I WAS COMPLETELY OUT FOR THE TRIP, OUT IN DREAMLAND, WHICH APPARENTLY CONSISTS OF SOME SORT OF WINDY, RAINY, ROCKY, RED WASTELAND AND SOME STRANGE CHICK SPEWING BULLSHIT SO INSANE I DON’T EVEN WANT TO POLLUTE MY JOURNAL WITH IT, AND KEEP IN MIND THAT I’M WRITING THIS SHIT IN A FUCKING ASTROLOGY BOOK. I THINK I’D HAVE TAKEN THE STORM OVER THAT NONSENSE.

AM I FILLING OUT PAPERWORK HERE, OR IS THIS ASSHOLE HITTING ON ME?

ONCE WE PULLED IN I WAS TOLD TO REPORT TO SOME ASSHOLE IN THE EXCISE OFFICE, AND SINCE I DIDN’T HAVE MUCH CHOICE, I DID. HE HAD A BUNCH OF PAPERWORK HE WANTED ME TO FILL OUT FOR MY RELEASE (BECAUSE SURE, WHY THE FUCK SHOULDN’T THEY DRAG ME ALL THE WAY TO MORROWIND BEFORE LETTING ME GO), AND THEN HE ASKS ME WHAT MY STAR SIGN IS. SERIOUSLY? AM I FILLING OUT PAPERWORK HERE, OR IS THIS ASSHOLE HITTING ON ME? SO I TOLD HIM “WARRIOR,” AND HE JUST *LOOKED* AT ME AND ASKED ME, “NO, WHAT’S YOUR REAL STAR SIGN?” I SAID, “MOTHER FUCKER, I WAS BORN IN FUCKING LAST SEED. AS A MATTER OF FACT, TODAY’S MY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TO ME! THAT MAKES ME A FUCKING WARRIOR.” HE ANSWERED, “YES, BUT WHAT YEAR?” SO FINALLY IT WAS OBVIOUS THAT I WASN’T NOT GETTING OUT OF THERE UNTIL I FESSED UP THAT NO, EVEN THOUGH I *SHOULD* HAVE BEEN BORN UNDER THE WARRIOR, THE FUCKING SNAKE STOLE THAT FROM ME, SO INSTEAD OF THE INSTINCT FOR COMBAT THAT MOST PEOPLE BORN IN LAST SEED GET, I’M STAR-CURSED. LUCKILY, AS A DUNMER, I HAVE INCREDIBLE BATTLE INSTINCTS, ANYWAY, BUT IT STILL PISSES ME OFF THAT I COULD HAVE BEEN BETTER, IF IT WASN’T FOR THE SERPENT. THE BOOK I’M WRITING THIS IN CLAIMS THAT PEOPLE BORN UNDER THE SERPENT ARE “THE MOST BLESSED AND THE MOST CURSED.” WELL, THEY GOT THAT HALF RIGHT, ANYWAY.

Journal Page

SO ONCE THAT SHIT WAS SETTLED (WHY THE FUCK WAS THAT SO IMPORTANT?) I WAS ORDERED TO GIVE MY RELEASE PAPERS TO THE TOP IMPERIAL GUARD OR EMISSARY OR WHATEVER, OVER IN THE NEXT BUILDING. HE TOOK THE PAPERWORK AND HANDED ME SOME DRAKES, A PACKAGE, AND A LETTER. THEN HE TOLD ME, “HERE, YOUR ORDERS ARE TO DELIVER THIS TO CAIUS COSADES IN BALMORA.” ORDERS? ORDERS? WHO’S FUCKING GIVING ME ORDERS? WHY THE FUCK AM I GETTING ORDERS? HERE I AM, PICKED UP AND DROPPED OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF A PROVINCE I’VE NEVER BEEN TO BEFORE, ALL WITHOUT SO MUCH AS AN EXPLANATION, AND NOW I’M BEING USED AS A MESSENGER BOY TO GET SOME PACKAGE TO SOME STRANGER IN A CITY I’VE NEVER EVEN BEEN TO? WHO THE FUCK COMES UP WITH THIS SHIT?

AND THAT’S WHEN HE DROPPED THE CATAPULT BOULDER ON ME: EMPEROR URIEL SEPTIM HIMSELF ARRANGED ALL THIS.

I JUST… I TOOK THE SHIT HE WAS HANDING ME AND LEFT, BECAUSE I CAN’T EVEN PROCESS THIS. I MEAN… I SERIOUSLY JUST DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO THINK. MAYBE THE GUY’S LOSING IT? HE’S KIND OF PRONE TO STRANGE SHIT LIKE THIS, BUT… I DON’T KNOW, HE’S MANAGED TO GET TAMRIEL AS CLOSE TO UNIFIED AS IT’S BEEN FOR AWHILE, AND THAT’S DESPITE THE DAMAGE DONE BY THARN (WAAAAY BEFORE MY TIME, BUT FROM WHAT I READ, HE REALLY MADE A MESS OF THINGS). FOR ME, IT WAS ALWAYS HARD ENOUGH JUST TRYING TO GET A FEW PEOPLE TO WORK TOGETHER FOR A SHORT TIME, AND THE EMPEROR MANAGES TO KEEP THE WHOLE *CONTINENT* IN LINE. MORE OR LESS.

THE THING IS… I ALWAYS KIND OF WANTED TO GO TO MORROWIND, ANYWAY. I MEAN, THAT’S MY HOMELAND, RIGHT? WELL, MY PEOPLE’S HOMELAND. MY ANCESTRAL HOMELAND. WHATEVER. EXCEPT NOW THAT I’M HERE, THE MOMENT I OPEN MY MOUTH AND THE LOCAL DUNMER HEAR MY IMPERIAL ACCENT, THEY GIVE ME A COLDER SHOULDER THAN THEY’RE GIVEN THE HUMANS. LIKE I FUCKING ASKED TO BE BORN IN CYRODIIL. I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHO THE FUCK MY PARENTS ARE, SO HOW THE FUCK IS THIS MY PROBLEM? BUNCH OF ASSHOLES.

SO I GUESS I’M GOING TO DO THIS THING BECAUSE… WHAT THE FUCK ELSE AM I GOING TO DO? I DON’T KNOW ANYONE HERE, AND COMING TO MY “HOMELAND” HAS LEFT ME FARTHER FROM HOME THAN EVER. IT LOOKS LIKE THE FUCKING HUMANS ARE THE ONLY ONES WILLING TO GIVE ME HALF A FAIR SHAKE, EVEN IF ITS THEIR FAULT I’M IN THIS MESS TO BEGIN WITH.

OF COURSE, GETTING THE SUPPLIES I NEEDED SO THAT I’M NOT ARMED WITH UTTER SHIT THE NEXT TIME I RUN INTO A RANDOM BANDIT OR WHATEVER HAS LEFT ME COMPLETELY BROKE, SO IT LOOKS LIKE I’M WALKING TO BALMORA. LUCKILY, LOOKS LIKE THE ROADS AROUND HERE ARE IN GOOD SHAPE, AND THERE ARE PLENTY OF SIGN POSTS UP TO KEEP ME POINTED IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION, WHICH IS ALMOST KIND OF IMPRESSIVE WHEN YOU REALIZE THIS ISLAND WAS ONLY FORMALLY SETTLED, WHAT, A LITTLE OVER A DECADE AGO? SCORE ANOTHER ONE FOR IMPERIAL ORGANIZATION, I GUESS. I’LL ADD MORE WHEN I GET WHERE I’M GOING AND TALK TO THIS COSADES ASSHOLE.

Head sketch of Dunmer!Karkat done for reference

Full body pic of Dunmer!Karkat in Morrowind starting clothes done for reference.

Notes:

Although I had gone with Dunmer as his race (Daedra aren't an option without a mod, after all, and I'm running this one mod-light), one of the things that the game dictates about your character is that they weren't raised in Morrowind, so I decided to have Karkat grow up in the Imperial City because, thanks to Oblivion, that's familiar territory for me, though, this does mean that Karkat grew up in a rather human-centric environment. My friend wanted me to have him raised by mud crabs. Or possibly Land Dreugh. I fear I disappointed her.

I figure if canon!Karkat can admire Her Imperious Condescension because running an empire is REALLY HARD, even if her empire is one where he could get killed over his blood color, Dunmer!Karkat can admire Uriel Septim VII because running an empire is REALLY HARD, even though he's human.

Tamriel astrology has no Cancer, but the Serpent definitely has the feeling of the "disease of the sky." It's not made of stars, but un-stars! They let limitation into reality! It also doesn't have a set season, but instead travels around the sky and tries to "eat" the other constellations, periodically replacing them for the purposes of birth signs. I decided that Karkat might be pretty annoyed with that, especially because the Serpent's special ability, frankly, sucks, and as a result he typically tells people he belongs in to the sign he *would* have been. To pick that one, I tried to find the sign that Karkat would have picked for himself if he could have chosen, and the Warrior seemed an obvious fit. It wasn't until after I made that decision that I realized that the Warrior's month is the same month as the game's starting month, meaning I could have him start the game on his birthday, just as canon!Karkat began playing SGRUB on his birthday. Of course, this makes his birthday 8-16, which isn't really a particularly Homestucky number, but oh, well.

Concerning the art, the last two were reference pics I did for this. The only consistent thing about Dunmer eyes is that they all involve red in some fashion, but otherwise they're all over the map: red iris with white, pink, or black sclera, red sclera with yellow, orange, or red iris, or just solid red. I've looked through references from the games all the way back to Arena, and you don't always even get a consistent depiction in a single game, so I just decided these were all natural variations. After playing around with different options, I decided I liked the look of red-on-black best.

Also, I found that when you're drawing a version of a Troll, and you don't get to use the horns, symbol, or teeth as identifiers, the hair becomes a lot more important. Karkat's hair is kind of hard to get right in a direct front view - mine came out looking rather Saiyan, I'm afraid.