From what I understand, Our Merry Elk is not the dragons. At least not right now. The dragons are "just" (pshaw on "just") creative forumites who decided that what this thread needed was a dragon party.

Holy whoo-pah, how did I miss that? Seriously? A mortal woman with links to incarnations of Shezzar and Akatosh and I didn't sniff out that we have potential for divine incarnation weirdness?

Really?! Wow I thought it was just natural glaciation.

Vorevak! Bein raan, dukaan sunvaar! The sinuous, iridescentthroat thrusts toward the sky, thrumming in outraged, multitonal shriek.Your blunt breath taints everything it touches, fo lun toor; even the yuvonhahnu you would pervert with your pathetic reflexive corruption. But not here, not now, not while my unazaal qoriik breathes inviolate and pure to trumpet the Truth's pure tones into the minds of these mortals! Her words throb through the air, palpable, shimmering; rainbow effervescence painted in Voice upon the winds. He speaks only of himself, joorre, only of his victories, his battles, but his is but half of the tale! He will not speak of his failures, of the years of chivvy and chastisemant he suffered as wyrmling when the World-Eater was yet wise, of the Spine-Spiraled Dusk when Freuja the Fierce forced him with Tongue alone into writhings proscribed to him for their pure palatability, of the wing-scores who perished in the lightning cages of the silver seeded storms at the briney hands of the sot smoliin kro. And certainly he will not speak of the end, of the voracious birth-maw of his Alduin's inversed daan or the Eagle's skirling revenge - of the talons that wrenched away three-quarters of the scaley chrysalis-callus congealed over the wretched, frozen void at his core and banished him, wingless and wretched forever in his own abyssal tide.

Now I have done with this grindvaak, joorre, for I will not remain to hear more of his boasting, more of his disgusting atrocities and violations. You know of him, now, what should be known, of his part in Alduin's corruption, tyranny, and overthrow and the muzgrah that implies.

So farewell, joorre, Uncle, and curse-crazed, 'umble cloaked progenitor... and beware, always, the Munaxlunmaar's blunt-subtle corrosion.

The dragon's thousand, infinitely refracted wings flex and flare along its spine, sending glitter-moted dust spiraling devils whirling through the crowd, and the enormous radiant bulk swirls, graceful as a leaf, into the dark skies, spinning and finning away, away into the Dark.

Behold! It's not a dragon but a Nyan Cat pooping rainbows!!!

Besides Munalux tells good story, it has all elements of good story... While You, Sir/lady Nyan Cat, speak in words of which at least half i must check from English dictionary. And most aren't there. So good riddance.

That's what she said, only in Nirnean. That's the biggest jump in understanding TES: nature is a god's breath making wind and a gods life making causes come before effects.

I don't know who you dragons are, but you're a fun group of folks.

Oh, [censored] no, you sparkly little [censored]. You can't just spit defiance in the face of the [censored] Hevnopaar himself and not expect to get pounded into the [censored] firmament. Sorry, mortals, but I'm going to have to cut this one short: I've got a scaley [censored] that needs my personal attention. You understand the feeling, I'm sure. After all... did I not teach you well, too, in the War? MUZ AHRK DOV AHRK FAHLIIL NAAL ZU'U DUKAAN!

[Rawboned red wings stretch their hoarfrost webs from horizon to horizon; massive, horny nostrils flex, catching multicolored musk from the wind; the depths of the sundered, riven chest heave, and with a blast of bitter winter wind the dragon roars into the skies.]

WINGLESS, AM I? WE'LL SEE WHO'S MISSING A FEW WINGS WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU, UNAHZAALVIING VAHDIN!

[Stars blink back into spectation as the obscuring bulk dwindles overhead. Then: a sudden flare; serpentine aurora writhings; a tiny shrieked NIIIIIID; a roll of thunder like a cracking glacier.]


Yeah, that's right, lift that slinky little tail. This ain't a surprise; you've been waiting for this for Eternity and you know it, you [censored]ty [censored]. HUBBA HUBBA HOOOOO.


!...!!! ... !!


[A tiny spot in the inky sky ripples strangely with silent, impossible impact. It leaks violet violence. And, somewhere in the Void, the twenty-two Hues of Bruise are born.]

They're swearing at each other. This is intense.

.

Dragon [censored]. Dur hur hur.

I wonder how you say [censored] in the dragon language. Make a shout outta that. That's the god shout right there.

[CENSORED] LAAS KIIN - Because Dragons cannot reproduce naturally, this shout is used to magically impregnate someone. Use of it on male mortals is strictly forbidden.
SMOLIIN GEINMAAR [CENSORED] - This shout is used by Dragons to... you know... with themselves...

*A long great shadow is cast upon the ground as the body of a great serpentine dragon blocks the sun shining warmly on the snow of Keizaal. He lands on a great rock, roaring a great Thu'um to alert the others of his presence.*

Het Zu'um, Hon!

Munaxluunmaar, Vintaasvok, MEY, fools. Hin Prodah Krif, Your so called "fight", is a shame wah pah DOVAH,
Hin "Kein" is a play of MEYS and a betrayal of the homeland.

*the dragon turns to munaxluunmaar, his eyes staring into the other dragon's with fury and rage.*

Munaxluunmaar, a fahdon wah Alduin. Hin Lahvu, your army, Hin Kein, your war, are all not Pruzah to your kind. It was You and Alduin that have betrayed your own kind. It was you and Alduin that have bothered to deal with these Shalo Joors. That have caused the dovah's collapse and betrayed our honor. It was you and Alduin that drey'ni stay in Akavir. That let the Tsaesci and Ka po tun roam our Akavir Sinon do us. Hin lust do dinok is the reason we sizaan.

*The dragon swiftly turns is head to the other dragon, his eyes shine red with wrath and madness*

and you, Viintaasvok, you are even pogass more a Mey. Not only did you betray akavir but you betrayed the dovah. Your Krif with Munaxluunmaar just proves hin ignorance. You assist Fin Mey Joor, the so-called Muz. You are a disgrace! You piss drinking sload! Ass of a Ka po tun! [censored] tailed mey with scales made of [censored].

*the dragon inahales and releases a gout of flames at the sky. He looks down on both the other dragons*

You are both traitors. You could have stayed in Akavir, you could have un-obeyed Alduin and send him to Dir alone. Mu ruled akavir. Mu had land and slaves alike. the Ka po tun, tsaesci, kamal, and Tang mo all served us. We were thur do joor. Now nothing but a dilon reyliik.

*The dragon spreads his wings*

You two need to daal to Akavir. Spread your wings and fly there, may the tsaesci spear you and eat your skin. If you wish to return with me or not, declare so. You are botheirng the Joor in their foolish business.

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/General:Michael_Kirkbride

I'm getting that, but who in this thread is Michael Kirkbride? I noticed he used the name "MK" in another thread.

The most recent dragon is definitely not MK.

We know who MK is. Who the hell do you take us for? But MK isn't a dev anymore. When he writes something, it's not instantly lore.

I think I recognise who at least two of the dovah are, but its hard to be sure. One of the features of good writing is the character shines through not the writer, but some quirks are unmistakable. Honestly, when we are getting dragons having an actual [censored] debate in using The Voice mixed with mundane speech all in our midst, does it matter who is behind it? There are at least two devs at play here, but whoever is doing it is doing it so well we should just sit back and enjoy.

If you don't like the thread, fine. Stop posting.

Whether this is officially lore or not isn't really the point.

Honestly you are right. I apologize, this forum, real or not, is just a place to have interesting discussions

Well...

This is probably off the point, but... It kind of pissed me off when you encounter Paarthurnax, and he wants to talk.. but he "knows" you don't care for it, and only hopes you'd indulge an old dovah's need to talk a bit. You get one option in the dialogue that basically amounts to "OK whatever. Talk. But hurry up and tell me where the Elder Scroll is." Something like that.

This pissed me off. It's problem indicative in all of the game's dialogue, where we're forced to roleplay some dipsh*t who doesn't want any dialogue or story and wants to hurry up to the "hacking and slashing".

So on that note, until Bethesda gets back on track and doesn't assume we're all stupid kids, we're not going to get a good dragon debate any time soon. Or any debates, for that matter. We're better off listening to the dragons in this thread.

I want to draw you a Venn diagram with "Bethesda" and "Dragons in this Thread" as two of the zones, but I ran out of crayon.

I don't know if anyone caught that, but Munaxlunmaar had a cousin in Veloth. [20]

. . . . . . . . . well. I must say; you did ask for it, briinahqo. Not that you could have done anything else; prodah kruziik kiin.

Bruniik roh brii, joorre. These things do happen; do not be too surprised. Indeed, it is only to be expected when dovah gather. The ancient saying: “There are only three ways for tinvaak to end, amongst the dov: feast, fury, or fire.” Yol nah ahrk dusil, as we told it. And more; my Kin have never been of convivial ilk, save in the crudest sense.

Perhaps you are right, Dawnfallow, though your sympathy and understanding ring oddly on your corona-stained tongue, even in your sheath of muz slen, mortal incarnation. Perhaps the very weakness of their voices becomes their strength, in aggregation. But would you leave them to it? You? The UI-Ahraand may be lost to them, at least in the current-skin, but does that mean we should leave them to their decurrent dissolution?

And you, joorre: a few more words, before I too take my leave. The Hevnopaar Kulaan has told you much of his days with the Sharmat se Muz, hinted much at the Trail of Terrors that was the Keizaal Kein, the War in the long winters beyond Ysgramor's demise. But he – and the Myriad-Wing, too – may have... exaggerated upon some points. His Words warp even if he wills it not; it is in his birth-tainted blood; soskiin kruziik, UI-AHRAAND UNSLAAD KRENT. But in bein vorevak, in corruption and perversion, he is indisputable. The fruit of his unions are forever undeniable, forever untameable - and never more so than the Coursing Issue, the Eagle's antlered egg.

(Pound-thud-squelch, squiggedy frum frump go the dragon's mossy stirring steps.)

Kogaan koor tinvaak, Fehkey Sadon. The best I have held in... but that is futile, of course. Farewell to you: joorre, Dawnfallow, Great Thoroughly-Odd, to you in your cud-chomping silence. Feyrot ahrk vintaas okazze yoriik naal hin mahfaeraak. Let lens-etched wisdom guide your path.

(And whump-flut-whoosh huff the lichen-licked wings; strickly rackly rasp the dewclaws over rocky rubble. So does the dragon go, gloam-gallumphing, into the rearing wake-forest's black bark stacks.)

I'm pretty sure dragons eat elks whenever they get the chance. RUN!