The Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion is one of my favourite games of all time, surpassed only by Morrowind, and I've been planning for a long time to put together a feature with original artwork. Unfortunately, it is very hard to find genuine fan art since almost all Oblivion-related deviations on dA are game screenshots (or manipulations thereof), and I found only a limited number of devs I could use.
Oblivion is an open-ended first-person RPG with an expansive and detailed world, released in 2006. The central plot revolves around the efforts to thwart the fanatical cult Mythic Dawn that plans to open the gates to the demonic realm of Oblivion. In addition to the extensive main quest, there are quest lines for several guilds, and many side missions. Despite being less diversified and immersive than Morrowind, the incredible amount of quality third-party add-ons add a lot of scope and replay value to the game.
Story and Characters
The lack of an heir for the deceased emperor Uriel Septim has broken an old covenant, and the barrier to the realm of Oblivion is about to shatter. The only way to close the Oblivion gates is to find someone of the royal bloodline to retake the throne, reclaim the Amulet of Kings, and relight the Dragonfires. The player must find key artifacts necessary to create a portal to Mythic Dawn's realm and end the menace.
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Characters and Events
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Cyrodiil, the Imperial Province, is situated in the south-central region of Tamriel. The center of their Empire and seat of governance, Cyrodiil is also known as "the Heartland". The capital of Cyrodiil, and of the whole empire, is located on an island in the center of the province, which bears the location of White Gold Tower, possibly the most renowned monument of Tamriel.
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The Daedric realm of Oblivion is ruled over by the Daedric Prince of Destruction, Mehrunes Dagon. The realm is covered by an ocean of lava, scattered with scorched volcanic islands and ruined structures. During the events in the game, gates open between the world and Oblivion.
Runes and drawings
Other Fan Art
Stories, stamps, artisan crafts. For chaptered fan fiction, I included only the first chapter (or prologue), but I suggest to check out the rest of the story too.
On the Road"I'm a priest. Do you need a priest? I don't think I'll be much help to you."
Martin Septim, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
How do you tell a man who's just lost his hometown that it was destroyed to get to him?
Rhetorical question as I didn't know either. I'd been racking my brains since entering Kvatch about how to tell this man, this Martin, that the Oblivion Gate had opened because he was there. Of course, since actually going into the Oblivion Gate, I'd been doubting I had any brains at all. Anyone with half an ounce of sense would've left dealing with that thing to the guard. But oh no, not me. I ran in there, didn't I? No armour on either and came up with an alias that isn't even Dark Elf name, therefore making me look even more suspicious to the Legion than what I was before.
And did I mention I was having a bad day?
I could hear Savlian Matius faintly, still barking out orders to the remai
Flesh and Blood"In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death...
...To face my apportioned fate, then fall."
Emperor Uriel Septim, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
It was strange to see a man die before me and for me to have no part in his death. Even stranger still that it should be the Emperor after I escaped prison. I suppose what struck me most was how resigned he was to his fate, that he would die and he had accepted it. I didnt know how he could.
Men are but flesh and blood, He said, They know their doom, but not the hour. In this, I am blessed.
Id thought him mad. Why would one want to know the hour they would pass away? Surely by merely knowing this, one would, I dont know, attempt to prevent it or otherwise try and change their fate somehow. He hadnt. Hed thought it a good thing, blessed hed said. I didnt understand it
Retrieving the XarxesYou risked your life to save me, a stranger. You are truly blessed among Arkays children.
Jeelius, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
I had thought the hard part was over in tracking down the Mythic Dawn, that it would merely be a case of finding the bastards, sneak into their base and back out again with the Amulet of Kings. How easy or hard that would be, I had yet to find out, but it surely couldnt be that bad. It didnt include chasing down books looking for secret messages hidden in them, or shaking down Wood Elves for said books. Nor did it include bringing Baurus with me and having him insist on meeting the Sponsor. A plan I still thought was crazy but had only gone along with for the sake of a quiet life.
Here, at least, I was alone. I didnt have anyone elses safety to worry about and with some luck I could sneak in and back out without causing too much of
For MorrowindWere you acting for the gods? I dont know. But now its my turn to act.
Martin Septim, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
Bruma was cold. If ever there was a time that I missed my homeland, it had to be now. I was freezing, convinced my grey skin would turn blue and body parts would start dropping off if it became any colder. I was already sure my fingers had dropped off somewhere in the city, Id lost the feeling to them and had begun checking they were still there. All this because I still hadn't invested in a warm cloak or remembered to bring some fur armour instead of my usual, favoured leather cuirass and greaves.
It was evening by the time I reached Bruma. The snow fell, a biting wind blew, hitting against my face and the frost from the night before had only just begun to melt. Some of the slush was still frozen however and I made a point of avoiding that, lest I w
Paradise AwaitsParadise awaits me.
Mythic Dawn Agent, TESIV Oblivion
I didnt want to get up. I didnt want to move. My limbs ached, I had a headache from lack of sleep after tossing and turning all night, and I just knew that this day, would be a very bad day indeed.
It was the day after the opening of the Great Gate at Bruma. The soldiers of Cyrodiil had banded together, managing to stave off the daedric attack while the so-called Hero of Kvatch went into the Great Gate to shut it down. That was another title to add to the growing list, the Hero of Bruma. I hated it already.
I lay on the bedroll in the living quarters of Cloud Ruler Temple. The rest of the Blades had long since left, likely under orders not to disturb me. I lay on my side, facing the wall, arms folded across my chest. My eyes were shut, but I heard every noise. For a while, I lay
Bruma's StandWill we let them burn our homes? Will we let them kill our families? No! We make our stand here, today, for the whole of Cyrodiil.
Martin Septim, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
When Martin had told me of his plan, Id thought it mad, ludicrous even and kicked up quite a fuss over it, calling Martin himself a fool. I hadnt however, outright refused to do so. Whatever I thought of Martins plan, I wouldve rather it were me heading into this Great Gate than someone else with no experience of doing so. The plan, risky though it was, it threatened the destruction of Bruma should I have failed, had worked. I stood now with the Great Sigil Stone in my hands, the Great Gate collapsing around me and at last, the means to recover the Amulet of Kings.
The ground shuddered beneath my feet and I stumbled, landing against the stone floor of the chamber. The entire room shook, the chains rattling and the smell of sm
The Devil's Instruments - 1The Devil's Instruments - an Oblivion fanfiction
Tristan was about to die. He was sure of it.
Inches away from his face dripped the menacing jowls of an ogre. He was pinned to the cave's rough wall by a single hand, wide enough to crush his entire chest cavity, with his weapon a silver claymore helplessly cast aside. The ogre's hot breath made him wince in agony and disgust. Its eyes were beady and black, staring at him unintelligently. He could feel the slow draining of oxygen in his body first, a tingling in his legs and arms, and then a pressure building up in his head. His attempts to draw breath were futile. Black spots appeared before his eyes.
This is it. This is the end. His mind was becoming incoherent, but before him flashed half-formed thoughts. The contract would go unfinished, or only his cohort Eloroth would return alive. He would join the Divines in Aetherius. Tristan did not want to die this w
The Maid at Rosethorn Hall - Chapter 1Warning! Please read the Artist's Comments before reading this story!
Also, for those of you unfamiliar with my work, I use an asterisk* to mark jargon, words, and sentences that I felt needed more explanation. Simply put your cursor over the words to see the notes I've written there.
The Maid at Rosethorn Hall
Chapter 1 - Elegy of the 'Not-So-Lucky' Ones...*
"B-but why?!" the young blond whined, tears welling up as he stood out on the dusty lane in front of the inn that his aunt and uncle lived above.
"Ungrateful wretch." a mousy-haired lady harrumphed, looking sideways at the sniffling blond, more than a little cross. "We let you stay with us all these years, rent free, giving you 3 meals, a warm bed, and now you get all teary-eyed because 'little baby you' doesn't want to work and earn his keep?!" She turned her attention to a man with a richer, darker brown shade of hair, who's mustache twitched as he also took on her
The Wayward Knight Part 1Huzzah!
Farwil Indarys, Elder Scrolls IV Oblivion
With the Oblivion Crisis becoming worse by the day, the threat it posed increased that much more. Fearing for the safety of Bruma, I had been sent to round up as much support as I could gather from the various cities of Cyrodiil. It was thought that if they could provide soldiers, Bruma would stand a better chance of defending itself. I agreed to the plan almost immediately, I had developed a fondness of a sort, for the freezing cold city and I would not see it destroyed.
I was on my way to Cheydinhal from Leyawiin, intending on dealing with the Oblivion Gate the next day.
It was late evening by the time I arrived. The smell of smoke drifted around, carrying on the wind. The sky darkened to that familiar orange colour, the yellow lines zigzagging across it, the grey clouds looking so out of place to my eye. I had always thought
Xivilai's Revolution Chapter 1Chapter 1 : Two clans
Slave. That's what he became it, because he had left the territory of his kind. He was introduced himself in these desolate plains belonging to the other clan, because by his simple distraction and boredom. This Xivilai was now caught and subjected to dremoras, their rivals. Locked in an isolated room in the tower, he was standing, disarmed and chained to his wrists.
All Xivilai were recognizable by their black hair and blue/grey skin. They had horns curved in back from their head. Their white eyes without feelings have neither iris nor pupil, and their ears were long and pointed. Their naked bodies had tribal red signs, each Xivilai was unique by a different variety of these symbols. They wore a short red skirt decorated with a sort of ironworker encrusted with a ruby. By this lack of modesty, the other Daedra, mostly dremoras dressed with their demoniac armor, called them wilds. This captured Xivilai had short black hair straightened back, black as ebony.
Silver Light Chapter 1Chapter 1:thumb267182978:
- Prelude -
I hummed softly to myself as I walked down the unusually busy streets of Chorrol, my skirt billowed softly around my legs as people rushed to and fro with their things, their children being tugged along behind their harassed mothers.
A recent hiccup in the economy had people panicking, the roads were filled with bandits trying to make a septim or two, the vittles had been a little scarce the past month but honestly it was nothing horrific, and things along that line. The real problem was the amount of hysteria and panic this predicament caused. If the population would relax and simply ration things so the economy doesn't get worse...ugh, the predictability of idiots.
While they all seemed to be hoarding as much food and supplies as humanly possible, I was here on business, preparing for an unfortunate eventuality.
First things first, my name is Leila Noori. As you can probably surmise I am in fact a Breton, by blood, not by nature. I am told I was abandoned as a b
Until Death do us part - Ch. 1Drip...
A still Shadow wore darkness as warm blankets in cold winters, looking at the lying body on the marble bed.
Silence and darkness reigned over a damp room, struggling for an empty and gloomy throne. The Shadow loved and praised them both, as only silence and darkness remained constant, her fellows along her whole life. Yet this place was different from any other: here she had first discovered the meaning of the word home.
She still remembered the first time she crossed the black door down the forsaken basement. The smell of dampness welcomed her, a stagnant smell with harsh and sometimes rotten tones, which hugged her like an old lost friend, insinuating itself into her hair and under her dresses like a lustful lover. Torches radiated feeble, ghostly lights, leaving wide spaces unconquered by their flickering emanations. In the distance she heard deadened noises of a fight, only later discovering they came from the training room.
The first one who welcomed her
Through the Heartlands P1Reality melted into a deep and lulling dreamland. An entrancing vibe at the pub end of the newly-extended Roxey Inn chased away any dark entities that might have arrested poor souls. Music, laughter, stories, obscene jokes, and the high spirits that amplified the enjoyment of them all collaborated to create an evening unlike anything routine. The Family of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary engaged with those that they might be paid to kill some other time in the future. It was a night to be everything but what they were not. Who could blame them for wanting to celebrate in such a way, especially since the long roads and days of being put to the ultimate test were long behind them. It was time to return home, which was only a day and a half ahead.
Most of their customers were the type of drinkers that didn't mind if everyone in the inn knew that they had one too many. But there were reflective drinkers that quietly sipped away at the far end, disappearing from all concern or even acknowledgment
Midnight WhispersThere was a charge in the air. The wind seemed to whisper words of death as its bitter cold touch gently caressed her skin. Shadows stretched out to her, growing as the sun hid behind the horizon, casting a blood red light across the sky. The echoing of rushed footsteps told her that the towns citizens were heading to their houses before nightfall the gathering clouds meant rain was coming. A mist descended slowly on the town, cloaking her from the ever-watching eyes of the town guards. Not that theyd be able to stop her even if they tried. A smile came to her lips as the last rays of light disappeared and the town descended into the darkness of night: now was her time to strike.
She moved silently through the town, keeping to the empty alleyways, embracing the shadows. Her shrouded armour and hood helped to conceal her further; a unique armour held only by a select few, light for easy manoeuvrability when running and fighting, but tougher than leather and blacker th
candles burn without a flameEver since she was a little girl, Lily wanted to become a mage. It wasnt just that it was nearly obligationafter all, she was a Breton, and her people were incredibly skilled with Magicka of all varieties. It truly fascinated her, the realm of mages and wizards. And it had to be respectable; after all, there was an entire guild dedicated to it.
Had she been born in High Rock, she would have received the proper training to become a mage, and at an early age. Even having been born in Cyrodiil, she could have entered a life of magic when she became old enough. Unfortunately, she lived alone with her father and sister on a small farm in between Anvil and Kvatch, which was completely isolated from either city, though both boasted a Mages Guild hall.
Marie scoffed at her younger sisters dreams. Louis wanted desperately to support her, but they hadnt the money to send her to Anvil or Kvatch, or even Skingrad further to the east. Their little farm brought in enough mone
The Empty SkiesThe Empty Skies
The last floors of the Imperial Palace are only accessible via a winding staircase. Two hundred steps in wide circles, once in a while adorned with small platforms which allow some rest. He remembers when he had climbed to the pinnacle of his home almost every day, enjoying the unique view White Gold Tower provided not only over his city but over a good part of the Imperial province as well. Nowadays he is often too tired after Council and court-sessions to burden his old body with the exercise, today, however, he has the overwhelming urge to once again climb the stair.
An alcove draws nearer and he pauses for breath. Having seen other Ayleid ruins one may be surprised by the Tower because it's not translucent but dark, only here and there dotted with small windows to allow air circulation and a meagre amount of light. He stands now in one of the small pinpoint pools and feels his lungs ache and his knees burn. He is old.
Maybe, he thinks as he moves on, his frailty is
Cyrodiil Can Wait a Little LongerIt wasn't unusual for Martin Septim to awaken earlier than the Blades that resided at Cloud Ruler Temple. Quite the contrary, it would be worrying if he were to sleep even a minute longer. As it were, he frequently found himself walking around hours before they awoke, alone within the protective sanctuary he had come to call home in the time he had spent there.
One such early morning found him sitting in the main section of the Temple, a thick book laying upon a desk on which his elbows rested, hands on his chin as he stared intently down at the pages. He knew full well what dangers resided within such scriptures; he hated just how vast his knowledge was. Something that worried him was the fate of the one who had brought him this malevolent book. Although reassured that she had merely transported it from the Mythic Dawn shrine to his own hands, he couldn't help but feel uneasy. It wasn't a matter of trusting her -- far from it, he had put his life in her hands many times -- but more of
A Chance for a New LifeWith the rise of the Nerevarine, Dagoth Ur had met his demise, and the false gods of the Tribunal had all been cast down. Although Lord Nerevar had slain his greatest enemy, he had made many new ones along the way. The Great Houses wished to relieve him of his authority, the temple wanted him dead, and the dark brotherhood was to be paid an enormous sum, by an unknown sponsor, if an assassin among them could kill the reborn saint of old. It would be a young dunmer woman from the imperial province who would be given the challenge. Her superiors, having great trust in her abilities, came to her in the sanctuary beneath the streets of Kvatch, and gave her the offer of a lifetime. Although she had her doubts, she ultimately accepted. Her loyalty to the night mother was all she knew, and her ambition was beyond question. Under the guise of a traveling merchant, Draylana left her home city behind without looking back, never knowing the fate that would soon befall upon her return.Kvatch drivel by Tatooine92 The List, 1 - 100 by SidheJester
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Custom Oblivion Stamp III by Raephen I went to Oblivion by ZerachielAmora Martin stamp v3 by Tatooine92 Mehrunes Dagon fan by FoxlingTM I support Daedra- Stamp by I-Forget-To-Forget Dark Brotherhood stamp by Oktanas
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Enjoy and take care.