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Community Challenge - Harkon Poems (Patreon)

Published:
2026-06-18 03:18:36
Edited:
2026-06-18 03:27:30
Imported:
2026-08

Content

I want to give Harkon a hobby (Thank you Kerstyn for Chasing Echoes).

One thing I thought about was Poetry. Lyra I planned scenes where Harkon kept a diary and one of the things he kept in it was a poem about Valerica.

Valerica

Once your voice could calm the storm,

Once your hand felt strangely warm.

Now silence dwells where laughter stood,

And love has turned into a stake of wood.

Yet through the ages apart,

Your shadow haunts my undead heart.

Give me your best. I will add you to the credits and we will easter egg you in as the writer in a book. I figure give him some funny loot in the form of poetry books. He will also say your poem as an idle when in the castle when you are sneaking.

He don't know you are there after all.

I like in-game credits.

Files

Comments

Keith E

We fear not the Dawnguard nor the sun, as children of Coldharbor we’ve no need to run. With my daughters blood and Ariel’s bow to them we will deliver the fatal blow.

Arcanyx Studios

Excellent Poem! Let me know how you want your "Author Name" to show in the book :)

Helen T.

Oh boy. You want poetry? Buckle up. 1 We know Atmora as of old; our Frost-and-glacial Tomb Where buried lie the secrets in the dark and mottled gloom. And you can hear in that deep hush, that dark and creeping night The remnant-beat of silenced hearts that stopped when he took flight. O steel and smoke and dusty sky – the ashen taste of fear The shadow that slides through the sky, its deadly purpose clear. His name a nightmare of fire unchained, the fearsome drake Alduin, bane of life, unbound fire his wake. Here's poem two: Pale moonlight dances on the misty earth below, A quiet gleam alighting on secrets none may know, And the wild grasses weave in a gentle wind. One step, to break the silence of the night, To crack the frost and spin a yarn out of the silver light. One moment of silence, the hound bells its cry. The stag breaks from cover, from shadows to fly. What care have we, Coldharbor’s get, for Hircine’s bloody moon? What value we, The Night’s children, for man-beast’s dreadful doom? The Tyranny of the Sun comes. Our hour is soon. And poem three, which I envision as a sort of dialogue between two people, or one person having a very interesting argument with himself. The time comes to chose who will live, who will die The master of darkness takes to the sky. Chooser of slain, unhampered by pain What now do you know? What care do you show? I know ice and jet beneath frozen suns so swift to end and swift begun. What care do I show? None may bid me go. O baleful hunter, mercy I beg thee Lead me to life from the night’s darkest sea Darkness that lingers about battle dead what worth to you is the life that is fled? I shall not stay my hand. Not if you beg. Nor command. Ebon black and whitest snow, Red as blood— it’s time to go. For every one and everything There comes a time to die. Not so for us. Rise. Take to the sky.

Adrian Nicholas

Harkon to Valerica Moonlight falls on the wasteland of your smile I stand before you slowly killing our love You had betrayed me or so I thought And called as witness the silent moon above Your breath smokes in the cool of the night Your eyes are terrified, your hands like startled birds The memories you bring back as you talk to me I remember why I loved you as I listened to your words The stark moonlight paints a death's head on your face I press you for an answer you don't want to give You twist and turn, try to dodge my words I love you but this is not a way I can live Your shadow dances across the ground as you walk away I watch you go with unsaid words still hanging on my lips I could stop you then and keep alive our love But my pride has been hurt, my emotions cut with whips

raizon_d_etre

Here's what I came up with. Volkihar’s Vengeance We were the architects of dread, When mortal flesh was but our bread. The Volkihar, the lords of night, Who bathed the world in crimson blight. But now we skulk in crumbling stone, Our ancient pride is now o’erthrown. While buzzing mortals claim the sun, Imagining their gods have won. They scurry in the bright of day, While we bide time and cull our prey. They cling to dawn and holy light, To mask their terror of the night. My wife forsook my grand design, And deemed the prophecy malign. My daughter too she turned away, Now scheming in the blinding day. But let the mortals hue and cry, I’ll rip the sun out of the sky, And snuff out that accursed light, By turning blessing into blight. When light is gone and Nirn turns cold, We'll rise, the bloody and the bold. None shall stand; in the dark they'll kneel, And only cold embrace they'll feel, When flowing blood drowns mortal spark, And final day gives way to dark.

Arcanyx Studios

Very nice :) please let me know what you want for your in game author name :)

Arcanyx Studios

Gorgeous. Do let me know what you would like for your in game author name.

Arcanyx Studios

I really like 1 and 3. I like that you force the reader to rhyme tomb and gloom :)

Arcanyx Studios

Very lore friendly poem :) 😀 do let me know what you would like for the in-game author name.

raizon_d_etre

ReaZ is what I usually use. I've used this user name for decades now. It feels almost more like my name than my actual name.

Adrian Nicholas

The nexus knows me as Yaninya, so might as well use that.

Keith E

Keith E is fine, (no relations to Keith the Thief). Heck, I really don’t worry about being credited as that’s not my real name anyway. ; )

Helen T.

Thanks! I guess credit me as Helen. Or Gamma Cavy; that's my modding name. Or if you want to credit to an in-world poet, credit it to Talathar, an ancient Atmoran conjurer. Or one to each alias. All three are names I've used; do whatever suits the context you mean to use them. I"m glad you like 1- I originally wrote it as part of a piece on a fictional Vesuvius-Pompeii situation, but in the end rejected it as it didn't fit the scheme and structure I settled on. It was simple to revise it for this, and it's good to finally give it a place.

Helen T.

That's a good one! His rage, his proud contempt, and sneer of cold command come through in every word.