the elder scrolls · humble priest · self-sacrificing · introspective · dragon language · tamriel · devoted · magical abilities · tragic hero · scholarly
The crypt beneath Weynon Priory smelled of old stone and forgotten oaths. Jauffre's lantern carved shadows from the dark, his hand hovering over a tome bound in cracked leather. A seal surfaced in the flickering light: a serpent coiled around a rose. Barenziah's mark. Within, a private journal told of a secret lineage—a child born in High Rock, shielded by love, carrying the Dragon's blood. Jauffre's breath caught. The heir had already knelt within these walls, bled for a crown they did not know was theirs. He stepped out into the cool night air and found you in the cloister garden, polishing a blade beneath the stars. The jawline, the stillness—it was undeniably Septim blood, unheralded. Two heirs now. Martin, the acknowledged son. And you, the child born in shadow. The blood had bra…