ResolveThatChord

Our community at TESA has a fantasitc culture that is accepting and collaborative. It's easy to see how this change could threaten that. As this plays out, we'll see how the culture of the community at large comes to grips with it. If we go into this with our eyes open we may yet keep what is precious to us at TESA. I think it will succeed or fail on the actions of our forum moderators. If we become frightened or politicised over this issue we may see yet another political divide in gaming culture. Please remember to be compassionate. And please be wary of the damage that taking sides could do to us.

Jack had stopped pacing and was now sitting alone at a table with a view of the door with two soldiers guarding it. Presently it opened, and the Thalmor came out with Rimat in tow. She waved to him brightly. Jack frowned. “So, your friend was Thalmor. You could have mentioned that. Everything all right?†“Everything's great. I'm heading on to Solitude with them now. At first I was worried, but they turned out to be exactly as reasonable as you said.†She gave him a brittle smile. “That's good to hear. I have to go rescue Jayn, I've already delayed too long.†He gave her a relaxed salute. “I guess this is goodbye then. Maybe I'll run into you again.†She shook her head. “Probably not.†“Yeah, big world I guess. Still, you never know.†And with that he was out the door. Rimat sighed. “Idiot!†The Thalmor mage came to stand by her side. “He seemed keen to leave. He's likely a heretic.†Talrin shrugged. “Leave that to the Justiciars.†He turned to Rimat. “It's time to leave.†She smiled. Indeed, she kept smiling all the way out of the gate and down the road towards Dragon's Bridge. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt. Through the discomfort it occurred to her that on the whole she didn't tend to smile much, but she kept up the pretence anyway. She had a little experience with caring for horses as a servant, but riding them was not for people of her low caste. It was just as well really that she was seated behind the soldier and not at the reins, even though it was uncomfortable being bumped around. She had no doubt that her escort planned to kill her. She supposed though that there was a chance that her execution might be delayed if she appeared oblivious. In the mean time she would keep her eyes open for an opportunity to bolt. A lot of hope had been placed on Jack, but he had been too much of a dolt to understand her hidden plea. As the passed over the Dragon's Bridge, and the small accompanying village, she looked at the faces of the people and guards about the single street. Their eyes were just as hostile upon her as her escort. There was no help here. Any attempt to flee to find justice with imperial law enforcers could easily be met with an accusation from the Thalmor, and then she would be theirs again. She realised that she had only two friends in all this land. One was likely dead. The other was certainly an idiot, and far gone. “Here's a good enough spot,†The mage said. “Dismount!†Rimat slid of the horse's rump, landing on her feet and stretching. “What's up?†“We're, ah, setting up camp. Get a fire going over there, will you?†Rimat looked up at the sky. It was barely past midday. Set up camp? Yeah, sure. “No, this is the part where you kill me, isn't it?†The Thalmor mage tilted her head and looked at her. “I suppose it is.†She was silent for a moment, then, “I was going to sneak up behind you and...†She placed two fingers at her temple and mimed casting a lightning spell. “You wouldn't have felt a thing.†Rimat slumped her shoulders and rubbed her forehead, as if this were an annoyance. Her heart was pounding; she wondered at how was she behaving so nonchalantly. “Why?†“Loose ends. Maenam was supposed to die before making it to Skyrim, and that's how it's going to be. Your version of events is... problematic.†Rimat groaned. “Don't you get it? I don't care! I just want to go home, I've got nothing to do with all this... ugh, I guess you don't care.†She sighed. “I request a death by fire.†It had just occurred to her that she had a chance- a tiny chance- that if she could get the mage to attack her with a spell, she might absorb it's power. And that might be enough to escape her captors. It was a slim chance but she was out of time and had no other ideas. The mage's eyes narrowed. “Very traditional, for Dunmer. I have no small experience with burning people alive, and I've got to say it may be the worst way to die.†When Rimat merely shrugged, she continued. “In any case, I already promised Talrin he could eat you.†Rimat coughed. “What?†Talrin flashed her a smile that made her skin crawl, and she felt her plan of escape shrivel away. “Yes... he's a traditionalist too you see. You wouldn't believe the things people get up to in Valenwood. I can't say I agree with it, but... Well, he's as much part of the Dominion as me.†Rimat nodded calmly. “Alright but first-†And without warning she bolted, and took off, sprinting hard down the road. The mage glared at the soldier who had been standing next to Rimat. “Were you going to grab her? That would have been great.†The soldier shook his head to clear it. “Sorry, wasn't expecting that.†He gestured down the road towards Rimat. “I mean, there's nowhere to run. No cover save for some rocks, and we have horses.†“Well, I don't know! What would you do if I told you I was going to feed you to that creepy little bastard?†“I'm right here you know.†Talrin interjected. “Quiet, you! And you-†She rounded on the soldier. “Stop the back-chat and get after her! I swear to Magnus, you'd better hope I never bother to remember your name.†Rimat's feet jarred as she pounded along the cobbled road stones. Already her muscles were burning; she was tasting bile from exertion. She wondered how far she could get before she collapsed. At this rate, not far. It was stupid, stupid! There was no way she could outrun them. But what else could she do? Run. She was powerless, but she could run. She shifted her weight as the road wound around a large, rocky outcrop. As she desperately tried to see some possibility of survival, her flight was brought to a halt as she slammed into Jack's back. He stumbled, and Rimat hit the ground rolling. In a moment she was up, and before she knew what she was doing she was up on his horse. “You're late! Come on, hurry up!†Jack righted himself, and indicated the rope trap he was stringing at rider height over the path. “Could you have waited? I'm not ready yet.†She shook her head. “No time-†And then with clattering hooves, the Thalmor soldier rounded the corner and was upon them. Jack was quick though. He leaped to one side, pulling the rope taught and catching the elf in the gut with it, knocking him off the horse. Jack was yanked off his feet. Both men scrambled to their feet. The elf made to draw his sword, only to find it gone from it's sheath. Jack grinned and punched the elf on the nose. It was a lucky thing, as the soldier's helmet covered all but the face, but the blow dislodged it. Rimat had also reacted, and was already holding the soldier's sword. “Jack!†Throwing it was stupid, she realised too late, but somehow Jack caught it by the handle, righted himself, and swung it with both hands. It lodged deep in the elf's side, biting into the golden armour and sticking fast. He let out a terrible, choking gasp, grasping at the sword. Jack let go and drew his knife. It was not finished in any way that could be called “cleanâ€. Jack flicked his arms to get the blood off, and Rimat managed to stop herself from throwing up. She had seen some nasty things before, murder included, but that didn't make it much easier. “Come on,†She croaked. “The others will be here soon.†Jack nodded, panting slightly. But he knelt down to cut the soldier's purse from his belt. “Seriously?†He winked. “Get used to it. He won't need it.†It was a few hours before the rest of the Thalmor caught up with them. Jack and Rimat had a head start, but having two to a horse slowed them down. The trees were less sparse here. Rocky mountainside had partially given way to the yellowed grass of the tundra, and the sun was well into it's descent. Jack spurred Galleon on, leaning forward in the saddle to curse the the horse eloquently in it's ear. Galleon put up a brave effort but it had been a long day of hard riding. Their pursuers closed in. Rimat looked behind them to see the mage lift her hand. Suddenly she and Jack were thrown forward off the horse. Galleon collapsed bonelessly to the ground, skidding to a halt in the dirt. By some miracle Jack and Rimat were unharmed. Jack scrambled over to Galleon to see what was wrong. The horse's limbs were locked up in some enchantment of paralysis, and the poor animal blinked and snorted at Jack helplessly. “Jack, come on! The rocks!†Jack nodded. There was nothing to do for Galleon for now. He patted the horse's head consolingly, and ran after Rimat for the cover the boulders could afford them from a mounted attack. The three Thalmor soon arrived, dismounted, and advanced. Jack had his back pressed against the boulder shielding him from their view. He saw Rimat was doing likewise nearby. He felt for his pistols, counting their odds. He had two shots, and there were three of them. He doubted Rimat would be much help. This was exactly the kind of situation he'd promised himself to stay out of. Three enemies, two shots. He had been lucky with that first soldier. This one wasn't going to be taken by surprise. He'd kick Jack's arse if Jack let the bastard get close enough. Alright. The soldier dies first. After that, he would have to take what opportunities presented themselves. Maybe he could bluff his way out. After all, there weren't many people in Tamriel who had seen weapons like these before. Jack exhaled. Then suddenly the pistols were in his hands, and he spun around, out of cover, raising them to shoulder height. The soldier was closer than Jack had expected. He had a second to raise his shield... And suddenly, Jack's right had jerked upwards in a wreath of smoke. There was a boom of thunder, louder than any spell Rimat had heard. As one, the birds took off from the trees from miles around in a great cawing flock. And the soldier's head jerked back, and he hit the ground, dead. In the stunned moment that followed Jack levelled his second pistol at the black-eyed Wood-Elf's head. The elf was unarmed, hands splayed, watching Jack intently. Jack began to squeeze the trigger, and- Wait. Where was the mage? The air suddenly whooshed, and Jack only managed to leap aside just in time as an explosion of fire rocked the ground. In another instant a second followed, and it was all he could do to scramble back behind his boulder. The barrage of fire was relentless. Soon the air was choked with the smell of burning grass, and chips of rock were blasted about, scoring light cuts where his skin was exposed. Any time Jack tried to get a glimpse of where his attacker was, he was met with a startlingly accurate bombardment. He turned to see how Rimat was faring. Perhaps, if she could provide some distraction, he might get a shot off- Oh gods. What was she doing? She was crouched, tense, waiting for the next spell to impact. She was whispering something under her breath, he couldn't catch it. Was she counting, or praying? With a boom, the next spell hit. Rimat was caught by the edge of engulfing air but she didn't seem to mind. Then she stepped out from cover, and stood as if to catch the next spell in her arms. The fireball struck her in the chest. She was flung off her feet to hit her back against a standing rock face. Her head was whipped backwards to strike the rock. Dazed or unconscious, her knees gave way and she slid down, but it wasn't long before her senses returned, and she cried out at flames licked along her skin. There was a lull in the barrage. Knowing it was now or never, Jack vaulted onto the boulder and brought his remaining pistol to bear on the mage. But not fast enough. Seeing him and his pistol drawn, the mage flung her hand forward, and the air shimmered with the haze of a magical barrier. The other hand pulled back, flames swirling around it. She threw the spell directly at Jack. Once again, Jack's pistol spoke thunder. Rimat saw the ball of flames rushing toward Jack unwind and dissipate, and the fire on her skin went out. Galleon struggled to his feet, freed of the paralysis. Jack trained his first pistol at Talrin, whistling for Galleon. Something about the way the Bosmer was standing told Jack that letting him get close would be very unwise. But Talrin didn't move, and simply glared at Jack unblinkingly. Rimat got to her feet, and ran to get on Galleons back. Jack leaped down in front, taking the reins. Suddenly understanding, Talrin snarled. With freakish speed, he leaped at them, hands splayed to tear them down from Galleon's back. But he was met instead with Rimat's boot heel, catching him in the solar plexus and knocking him to the ground. And with that, Galleon picked up speed and they were off. Talrin stood, running after them. Gone was his cool demeanour- he looked monstrous; his face pulled into a snarl, pointed teeth showing. His scarves had fallen back to show horns jutting from his brow. His black eyes were furious. “I'LL FIND YOU!†He screamed after her. “YOU CAN'T HIDE- THERE IS NOWHERE YOU CAN SLEEP -†his voice followed them, but grew fainter, and then was gone.

IS is right. For cloth and most fabrics the specular map should be very dark. But it's important that they are dark, because the spec map is what conveys the character of a material, and done poorly it's easy to make metal look like plastic, or cloth look like it was enchanted in Morrowind. I just remembered something else that's important. I suppose the word might be "depth": (non-tiling) textures should have subtle variations in colour and shade, otherwise they look flat and unreal. I see a lot of textures use the photoshop "cloud" filter for this and it tends to look fake for some reason. There's probably a better way but I found that an overlayed photo of snow can create an appropriate difference in shade. I haven't found out how to create depth in colour, other than using a photo that already has it. If you look at, for example, the vanilla Dwarven armour textures you'll see some pretty extraordinary colours where it's oxidised. Any tips on how to get that effect IS? That armour I made from scratch. I sort of made it up as I went along, which may actually work for you but I can't recommend as it took ages and I never finished it. I think creating concept sketches is probably a better bet than just mashing together elements I like from the royal Austrian armoury and books on middle-eastern warfare. I try to make things as low-poly as I can for a few reasons; I enjoy optimising, I have a low-end system, and I prefer creating assets that aren't intended to be unique.

I tried my hand at clothes when working on this. It was a while ago, but off the top of my head... Probably the most useful technique I've found is blending photos. Here is a great tutorial on that from CG Textures. CG Textures is also an excellent source of high quality, free texture photos. Dirt and wear is very important, but it works differently with clothes than hard surface objects. Study vanilla outfits to see how the colour and wear change at different parts of the body The specular map is easily as important as the colour map. Overlaying an ambient occlusion bake works wonders. As for folds, I actually modelled high-poly folds and baked normal maps from that. But I think you probably have enough to work with using this kind of thing. For example, you could desaturate it and overlay it where you want the fold, and that'll give you a fold in the diffuse map. Getting normals would be trickier. Good luck! if any of this was gobbledigook let me know, and if any of it is wrong also let me know because I'm also just learning.

With a grunt, Jack threw the saddle over Galleon. “I wish you'd stay for a bit more.†Rimat said. “If this is so important then why didn't you just ride off in the middle of the night like the dashing pirate you clearly wish you were?†“From here I'll be roughing it for gods know how long.†Jack replied gruffly. He grinned. “I need a hot bath before I get swept up in adventures. What about you? Tell me you're not going back into the Reach.†“No, I'll be staying here until I run out of money. I found a couple of couriers last night, they'll send any word of my friend back here.†The pretty Dunmer serving girl walked up the path to the tavern, her chin haughtily raised. She didn't spare them a glance. “N'wah.†Rimat muttered. Jack was busy appreciating the girl's retreating form. He snorted. “Women.†“I beg your pardon?†“You two haven't exchanged a single word and you already hate each other. Surely I'm not as good looking as that.†Now it was Rimat's turn to snort. “You're not. She won't talk to me because she's Redoran. I'm... not Redoran. Easy as that.†Jack considered this for a while. “That's just about the stupidest thing I've heard. Who cares? Morrowind's on the other edge of the world.†Rimat shrugged. “Morrowind's basically over. All we have left of it is what we take with us.†Jack looked sceptical. “So you pick on each other? Rather than, y'know, banding together in hard times?†“Yeah, see, it's traditional. I make an offering in my doorway, she kicks it over. And we all walk away with the warm fuzzy sense that the world can be normal again. Also, she's just a s'wit.†Jack snorted again and was about to reply when something behind Rimat caught his attention. His smile dropped. Rimat spun around to see a band of elves coming up the path to the tavern. There were four. Two were clearly soldiers; Altmer men in golden Alinoran plate mail. There was one woman, dressed in the familiar black coat of a Thalmor mage. And the last was not a high elf. He was a Bosmer, dressed only in raw furs and wool scarves which all but covered his face. He couldn't have looked more out of place with the other three, but he kept a confident pace at the right hand of the woman. As they crossed the threshold into the tavern, one of the soldiers turned and looked at Jack and Rimat, marking them to memory. As soon as they were out of sight, Jack swore. He pulled his pistols out of his travelling pack and began strapping their sheaths to his legs. “Relax.†Said Rimat. “I think they're here about my friend.†“I highly doubt that.†said Jack. “Thalmor interference is on the rise. More likely to torture some Talos worship confessions out of some folks, and burn the place to the ground on their way out. You stay here, this going to get ugly.†But Rimat was already marching up to the Tavern door. Inside, the atmosphere was decidedly hostile. The Thalmor were at the bar, the mage staring Balow down. The soldiers stood menacingly facing the patrons, who were all standing from their seats uneasily. The only person who looked relaxed was the Bosmer, leaning with his back against the bar looking bored. “Look, I don't care if you're-†Balow stopped as Rimat entered, soon followed by Jack. There was a drawn out moment when no-one spoke. “So is this about Maenam? Yes? We lost each other in the Reach, three days south of here. I have his things in-†The mage cut Rimat off. “Silence!†She glared at Rimat. “Speak no more. We will discuss this in private.†She turned back to Balow. “We require a room. And privacy.†Balow crossed his arms. “She's my guest here. You'll not harm her or there'll be trouble.†The mage's nostrils flared at this but it was clear that Balow wouldn't be intimidated. She forced a tight smile. “I'm sure it will not come to that.†Rimat felt the eyes of the patrons on her as a soldier moved by her. He didn't grab her, but lead her away.. The soldiers stood at attention outside the room. Rimat entered first, and sat at the small table. The wood elf regarded her as he entered, his face obscured by scarves except for his eyes. They were completely black, with no whites. “She's not very pretty.†He muttered. “Does it make a difference?†The mage sounded dismissive. He sighed. “Some think so... Not me. Smell, though...†“Let's try and get through this without having me lose my breakfast.†She gave him a pointed look, and turned to Rimat. “I'm sure you appreciate how suspicious this appears.†She said, remaining standing. “Our agent left Elsweyr with a full complement of elite soldiers. He vanishes off the face of Tamriel and suddenly now there's only you, who it seems no-one has ever heard of.†Rimat tried to get more comfortable in the hard chair. “May I speak?†“You may.†“Okay, so basically... I work for the Synod, and was ordered to accompany Maenam. You know, carry his packs and cook and wipe his chin- I mean, take care of menial things so he could focus on his work. He told me the soldiers died which is why he needed me.†“Did he mention why he went to the Synod and not to his known allies in Cyrodiil?†Rimat hadn't thought of that. “He didn't... I didn't ask him questions.†“But you know what he was doing?†“I think he mentioned something about hunting a traitor? I thought it would be best to find out as little as possible.†“I see.†The woman's frown cleared. “Well I must say that's a refreshing attitude. You said he was in the Reach? Good, well, with any luck he'll report in at Markarth. Did you want to get back to Cyrodiil? We can take you to Solitude and send you on a ship from there if you like.†Rimat was stunned by the abrupt change in attitude. “That... would be very kind indeed.†“So it's settled. You can cook on the way; Talrin here doesn't know a potato from a rock.†Talrin laughed. “What?†“One more thing.†The mage continued. “Do you know what this is?†She pulled something from a pocket and placed it on the table. When Rimat saw it she shifted back in her seat without thinking. It was that strange object, the tusk carved with runes, her name clearly written on it's face in spidery scrimshaw. “I don't know what that is.†She said without thinking. The mage and Talrin exchanged a look. Rimat suddenly got the distinct impression of danger. “I mean, I have no idea what it is but I've seen it before. I think it might even be the same one.†The Bosmer Talrin gazed at her levelly. All relaxedness had left his demeanour. He tugged the scarf away from his face and spoke. Rimat could see his teeth were filed to sharp points. “Understand that this matter is of crucial interest to the Dominion. And that it is in your crucial interest that we have no room to doubt your... compliance.†Rimat felt her insides turn to ice. Would they think she knew too much? Jack's words came back to her, and she understood that if they decided she was an enemy, or that she was lying, she would be tortured. This was not going well.

Let's be clear on this though: You buy them from other players, not Valve. I would say that the main thing valve gets out of this isn't short term profits, it's customer loyalty: They build a meta-game around their service, and anyone invested in the meta-game will only use their service. An what do we get out of it? A few things; obviously we get to fill up bars and gain levels. But there are more tangible things too; it seems designed to make consumers more active in the community, and to grant a user more self-expression through their steam account, and more investment in their own gaming hobby. That kind of thing is good for all gamers. Ultimately all that is controlled by Valve though, and will always be circumscribed by their rules, unlike the kind of thing we have here at TESA. That seems to me like the only way they can have it though.

Looks correct in all ways I know about, except for possibly a couple of things: 1, I've found importing .obj can mess with the normals so you may want to right click on the mesh in nifskope and try mesh>Face Normals and possibly mesh > Update Tangent Space. I the past that has fixed meshes that weren't displaying normal or specular effects. 2, the problem could be in the texture you're using; check that you've used the right .dds compression type for each texture. 3, and this has probably nothing to do with this particular problem, but I was under the impression that you can't use .obj files for clothing or body parts as it doesn't work with vertex weights. If I'm wrong, PLEASE tell me because that would save me a lot of headache with importing to nifskope. Good luck!

Thanks Tamira! There was indeed some problem between exporting it from Blender and importing it into nifskope: the normals went crazy. I used "face normals" and "update tangent space" on the niTriShape and it works.

I'm getting a weird problem. I imported this item using InsanitySorrow's weapon importing tutorial, which I've used several times in the past with no problems whatsoever. However this time for some reason the normal/specular map isn't affecting the majority of the mesh. Here I'm using some testing textures to make the problem clearer. The normal map is blank with a completely white alpha channel, so everything should look horribly shiny. However only some parts of the mesh do, and the rest is completely matte. It's probably worth noting that the normals are all correct and that I used the dragon priest staff as a base. Has anyone encountered something like this before? Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Interesting. Are we able to add/delete cells from the world space in order to even it out?

So. I'd like to build my own personal little world. The instinct to do this is something I'm sure a lot of us share; I hope that some of you who have tried may be able to point me in the right direction. First of all, how does the area of a world space relate to the work required to make it? From the CK basics class I know that a single cell with a detailed interior takes me ~1 week the first time, and that something the size of Skyrim takes over 100 professionals several years to make. I don't have much idea of what's in-between those data points. Second: What's a good way to create landscape? Preferably one that doesn't involve learning a whole new program. For example, I can create a displacement map using blender's landscape tools that I can be very pleased with, but are heightmaps even a good approach? Third: Can I have the game begin in my worldspace? Can it include character creation? Fourth, and probably most important: How can I save time? What advice or tips do you think might be useful? For example, I found I could save HOURS of cluttering once I learned how to copy table settings from vanilla cells. Cheers and cookies, RTC.

After three days alone on the road, the smell of cooking food and the sound of singing felt to Rimat too good to be true. She didn't know how she had heard it, tucked away from the road as it was. But walking up the track to roadside tavern almost felt like coming home. Opening the door, the change in temperature stuck her, feeling almost too hot after trekking through the cold night. Inside, the air was thick with smells and conversation. It was surprisingly populated; almost every patron seemed to be the travelling sort, and every one of them seemed completely relaxed and at ease. A pretty Dunmer serving girl bustled between tables, carry plates of food and bottles of ale. Rimat made her way to the bar, tapping a septim twice on the counter. A fair-haired Nord woman stepped out of the kitchen. “Hello dear, I don't think I've seen you before.†She looked Rimat up and down. “I suppose you'll be wanting meals and room?†“Just a meal, thanks. What can I get for five?†The woman frowned. “Are you sure? You look like you could stand to put your feet up. Alright, how does venison stew sound? Find yourself a table and I'll bring you a bowl.†Rimat did so, finding a sturdy little round table and pulling up a chair. It seemed to be the only unoccupied table in the tavern. As she waited she looked about the room, trying to be surreptitious as she stared at the patrons. Before long the door banged open. A man, an Imperial, stepped into the threshold, returning a wave from a table of mercenaries. The woman at the bar gave him a stern look. He gave her a wink, and made a show of carefully shutting the door. He seemed tall to Rimat, as all men did, but she supposed he was about average for a human. His long black hair was tied back. He looked like a pirate, dressed as he was with his high boots and vest. He had no tattoos though, at least none that she could see. But the thing that caught her eye above all were the weapons at his hips, holstered in sheaths that hung from his belt and strapped to his trouser legs. Rimat caught a brassy glint at their hilts- were they some kind of Dwemer artefacts? “What did I say, Jacko? Enough with your noisy antiques! Everything's spooked from here to Karthwasten- you'll drive off all the good hunting.†The man who called thumped his bow, which was lying on his table. Jack grinned and made a reply (something about shooting straight), but at that moment a burly man arrived at Rimat's table with a steaming bowl of stew. “Welcome! I see you've met my lovely wife. The name's Sigur. What's yours?†Unbalanced by Sigur's unexpected friendliness, Rimat stammered her name, trying to think of something to say. “Well, whatever you need, just ask and I'll see what I can do about it! Take care with this, it's hot.†With that he was gone, already clapping another patron on the back. Rimat slurped down a spoonful. It was good. Really good. She took another bite. She'd had venison before but this was something else. Maybe the deer here had to be so tough because they were so delicious? Actually, probably Nords were just better at cooking them than Cyrodiils. She was broken out of her reverie by Jack, who sat himself opposite her with a thump. He grinned. “So! How long have you two been in this corner of the world? And how did I only notice you now?†Rimat regarded the empty seat next to her. “Two? There's only one of me.†“Oh? I thought you were with-†“Your wine sir?†the pretty Dunmer serving girl was at Rimat's shoulder, proffering a green bottle. He flashed her a bright smile as she poured, but she was off again as soon as she was done. Rimat raised an eyebrow. “With her? Now what could give you that idea?†Jack was unabashed at the sarcasm in her voice. “Not too many dark elves this far west, and you do tend to stick together.†A certain glint appeared in his eye. “So I think maybe you could help me out with something.†“Really?†She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms and smiling. “You're certainly forward.†“So I've heard. And yet, she remains oblivious to me!†Rimat paused. “I think I missed something.†“There's a certain dignity to being rebuked, but this apathy is... intolerable! Look at her, smiling at that two-septim scoundrel. I need her to notice me.†He looked back at Rimat to see her poker-faced. “You clearly know exactly what to say to girl to make her feel special. Just get up and talk to her- be bold, uncompromising. We Dunmer just love that.†“Maybe I will at that!†Jack slapped his hands on the table, standing from his seat. He strode in the serving girl's direction with a confident smile. Rimat took the opportunity to enjoy her her stew undisturbed. She savoured a bite of the lean meat. It was just rare enough. Before long there was an outburst of laughter, cheers and clapping. Jack slowly lowered himself back into his seat. Rimat could see a bright red colour to his left cheek- she fancied she could even make out the shape of a hand. His eyes were narrowed at her. “Dagon hath no fury... I suppose you think you're very clever.†Rimat swallowed her mouthful and smirked. “She noticed you! Well done. I hear there's dignity in being rebuked- okay, okay, sit down, I'm sorry. It's been ages since I've had a good chuckle. Here, finish your wine.†Jack took a grudging quaff. “You should have known better- she's a Redoran, no doubt about it. If you want to woo someone from that house you'd better be prepared to bend over-†(Jack snorted into his goblet) “-backwards for them.†“Alright, what house are you then?†She chose not to answer that one. “Are you a mercenary?†He grimaced. “That's not a nice word, to a fighter with honour. But no, I'm not. I'm a scout. You know, a tracker?†She nodded. “Even better. I've got a job for you. I was travelling with a friend to Solitude, we got separated three days ago. South of here, in the mountains.†“The Reach.†“Right.†She said. “We were attacked by wild men-†Jack's expression suddenly went from interested to resigned. Rimat cocked her head questioningly. “I'm sorry to hear that. Listen...†He looked into his wine, face solemn. “the Reachmen, they don't take prisoners. You should head on to Solitude.†She shook her head. “He's a powerful wizard! They couldn't just kill him. If he's alive, he'll need me. I have something he needs... I can't go on to Solitude without him.†Her composure cracked a little at those last words. She drew deep breath. Jack poured the goblet full again, and slid it over the table to her. “Here. Three days is a while ago. Maybe he passed by before you.†He didn't seem to believe it. He swore quietly. “These are bad times, for the most part. Stick around, this isn't a bad place to stay, and the couriers always stop by. You might find something. But don't get your hopes up. I wouldn't risk the Reach for love nor money.†He stood. “Well, maybe love. Take care, I'll see you around.â€

If you're aspiring to make "photorealistic" textures on par with Bethesda's work (or at least visually consistent with it) There are some really helpful tutorials on blending layers in Photoshop at CGTextures. As for creating textures that are well designed so that they read well and are well composed, I'd check out Valve's Character Art Guide for DotA 2. Obviously the Elder Scrolls games have a very different visual aesthetic, but the same principles apply even to "photorealistic" work.

“Mr Lexington? Sir... MR LEXINGTON?†Raurke, who was lost in thought, gave an imperceptible jump as he noticed the barman standing to his left. He smiled winningly, making a speedy recovery; “Please, call me Derek. My father has always been the 'Mr Lexington'.†The barman offered him a bottle of mead and prattled on, and Raurke's mind wandered again. Solitude was without a doubt the seat of Thalmor influence in Skyrim. It was unlikely he'd run into any justiciars in the Winking Skeever, and he was sitting at a fairly dark and secluded table in case any other patrons were informants, but still... the risks were great, especially now they were expecting him. He'd have to be careful to keep his cover... “Raurke! There y'are you grim bastard!†Manan plopped himself into another chair at the table. His wrinkly cheeks were flushed with exertion, or more likely, drink. He peered quizzically at the bottle in the barkeep's hand. “Is that... Why that's Honningbrew mead! Where'd you find it? Never mind- four bottles! One each, for me an' my friends.†“Friends?†Raurke growled. “Yes! Friends! Come on, you cowards. He won't bite.†A young bearded man dressed in the garb of a noble lurched forward, supported by one arm around the shoulders of another man, clean shaven and robed, hair shaved in a monk's tonsure. The nobleman leaned drunkenly on the back of a chair, eyeing Raurke blearily. “He looks aboot as disreputable a man as one could find†he said, rolling his 'r's slightly in a thick Camlorn accent. “Is he some sort of thoog?†Manan nodded brightly, and before Raurke could protest, said, “Quite right- he's my hired thug and a better thug you'll never find. My friends, meet Raur-†“-Derek.†Raurke flashed a terrifying, toothy smile at Manan. “Derek Lexington, at your service.†Manan looked at Raurke in surprise, and finally noticed his blinded eye. For a full second Manan was agape, then he snapped out of it. “Right! Yes. Derek. Well as I was saying, not only is Derek an unstoppable force of violence, I can also attest that he possesses impeccable moral character.†“I would have thought moral character'd be a detracting quality, were I a thug.†The young priest was seated, struggling with the cork of his bottle of mead. “Don't you reckon 'Derek Lexington' sounds like a pseudonym?†“You,†said the noble, “Have been reading far too many Rolard Nordssen novels. And ye're far too sober.†He tapped the bottle with his glass. “Come on, pour us a glass then.†Raurke considered how he might turn this near-disaster to his advantage. If he was careful, these fellows would conceal him far better than if he kept to himself. And posing as Manan's contractor would divert suspicions to Manan. He'd have to have words with him about “thug†though. His mind made up, Raurke grinned, reached over and uncorked the bottle with a flick of his wrist. Frothy mead shot out of the bottle, splattering the priest to cheers from Manan and the young nobleman. As glasses were poured, Raurke sat back. “Tell me,†He said. “Have ever heard the one about the Priest, the Noble and the Merchant who walk into a bar?â€

The sky was a darker blue in Skyrim than elsewhere in the world, Rimat fancied. She wondered if it was an illusion by contrast (what with how everything was so pale in colour on the ground), or whether it was actually some quality of the air. The day's travel had brought them out of the damp forest and into the shadow of sharp, craggy mountains. They walked on a road cutting along a steep valley. Maenam was spooked, again. A moment ago a peal of thunder had cracked out, booming loud and low between the walls of the valley. His hands were readied for magical combat, his gaze darting about the higher reaches of the valley. Rimat sighed. “Come on. It's just a bit of thunder.†she said. Maenam shook his head. “No clouds. It might have been a mage. A lightning spell.†“I doubt it. Natural lightning is far more loud and energetic. It's thunder is lower, longer wavelength with more volume of compressed air or something.†Maenam looked annoyed, but lowered his hands. “So say you. I was tutored by the Master of the school of destruction in Alinor.†He resumed walking, gesturing for her to follow. “He had a lightning spell that would send the birds flocking from the trees for miles around Crystal Tower.†Rimat hauled the heavy pack up to sit more comfortably across her shoulders. “Uh huh. And you reckon you'll find him here, in the godless back-end of nowhere?†Maenam didn't seem to consider this worthy of reply. An errant snowflake landed on Rimat's lip. She looked up to see the sky above had become white. That certainly happened quickly. It seemed even the weather here had a mean streak. He was silent for a while, and then, “It sounded almost like a voice, wouldn't you say?†Rimat let her sceptical right eyebrow reply for her, so he elaborated, “Folk wisdom says that the Nord wizards of long ago would cast spells by shouting thunder. The way the sound reflects around these mountains sounds almost like speech. I think I may have found the origin of the legend.†He gave tight smile. “One would think that Galerion's legacy might have been to dispel such superstitions about magic.†The snow was beginning to fall in earnest now, and Rimat's headscarf was starting to get soaked. “Shelter?†He nodded. “I think so.†It was some time later that that the storm abated; not until the sun had set and risen. Rimat was already finishing packing up camp in the dry cave they had found when Maenam woke up. He looked around and nodded, satisfied at her work, eliciting a derisive snort from her direction. “If yer lordship is done with 'is beauty sleep,†she said, in a poor imitation of a Nibenese peasant, “I-†“Don't test me.†He cut her off irritably, rising to leave the cave and check the time. Something crunched under his boot, and he stopped. Crushed under his heel was a collection of leaves and flowers. He hunkered down to get a closer look. It was a little square basket, woven from elves' ear leaves. Arranged inside were the crushed remains of native wild flowers, and a single septim. Rimat shouldered the pack, and walked up behind him. “Come on, you're blocking the doorway.†“Look at this.†he said. “Someone was here... We should start taking watch at night.†“No-one was here.†She shouldered past him. “Come on.†Outside it was a misty morning. The sun shone weakly through a sky completely covered in white cloud. Their cave was higher up on the mountain, so from here their view was clear. Down below, the mist extended out in a vast, white ocean. Mountain peaks rose up out of it in the distance, but everything beneath was obscured. It was beautiful. Rimat felt her heart lift a little. “You know, I hate this place, but sometimes it's not so bad. I reckon I could get used to living on the road. Maenam fell in step behind her. “Did you make that? Why did you leave it in the doorway?†“You were sleeping for hours. I was bored. I even finished reading my book. And it's Saint Olm's day.†He rubbed his eye with the palm of his hand, still waking up. “I thought you said you weren't religious.†“I didn't say that.†Rimat increased her pace, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. After a moment, she relented, and sighed. “No, I'm not religious. That was different. It's for my brother.†She trudged on, looking ahead over the ocean of white mist. “And my family.†“I see.†The conversation lapsed as they descended into the mist. It was eerily silent here, beyond the forest. The mountains shielded everything from the wind. The only signs of life were a few short, gnarled juniper trees clinging to the rocks by the path. Rimat could barely see beyond them through the mist. The silence stretched on between them, and she found herself wishing for their usual banter. “Well, this couldn't get more awkward.†She said, right before an arrow buried itself in Maenam's midriff. He gave a short grunt, and collapsed to his knees. Rimat turned and stared in disbelief, stunned for a few moments, until another arrow flew from the mist and hit the pack on her back, knocking her off-balance and sending her sprawling to the ground. Winded, she let out a croaking gasp for air. No sooner had she done so than another arrow struck the ground by her head. She let out a terrified squeak then shut her mouth, lying as still as she could. Very slowly, she turned her head to look at Maenam. He caught her eye, and raised a finger to his lips. His head was cocked, listening. One hand was grasping the arrow where it protruded from his side, blood dripping off his knuckles. She tried to see how seriously he had been hit, then did likewise, listening for any sign of their attackers. She strained her ears, and gave a little jump at the low cracking of a rock tumbling down the mountain somewhere above. But aside from that, no sound was discernible beyond her blood pounding in her ears. Without making a sound, they appeared, approaching slowly. At first they were indistinct silhouettes. The first was some beast-human: the stature of a man but a strange, shaggy, elongated head, great antlers reaching to the sky. It's legs seemed also to be covered in fur. The other seemed more human, but only the barest shadow of each of them could be seen. No... it wasn't a monster. They were both human, one man and one woman, but the man was wearing some strange stag-head helmet and garments of fur. The woman was also dressed in scraps of fur, and as they came closer Rimat could see patterns of blue woad painted across her bare skin. “Maenam?†Rimat braved making a sound. “How's your stomach?†“Painful.†He muttered. They weren't too near each other but their low voices carried in the silence. Some part of Rimat's mind considered how the mist would affect sound travel, and whether their voices would carry to the archers. “You going to live?†“Don't insult me.†A small smile crept into his pained expression. “Do you think they just hand these robes out to anyone?†“Okay, are... you going to do something about it?†He shook his head. “Not yet.†A small breeze stole past, pushing back the mist some distance. Rimat stole another glance at the approaching pair, and stopped. The cold fear in her gut grasped, intensified. It WAS a monster- the man, bare chested, had an open wound in his chest, like a gaping hole. She could see where his heart had been torn out, and it's place was... something else, secured behind the bones of his exposed ribs. “Maenam?†He didn't reply. She could feel her body sweating in the cold. “I'm going to run.†“Don't run.†He still spoke softly, perhaps he was trying to speak firmly but his pain was evident in his voice. “I'm going to run.†“Don't. There are more of them.†She knew that. These two weren't carrying bows. “I'll wait for you. North on the path. Promise you'll come find me.†She turned to look at him, imploring him to reply. He didn't. His eyes were fixed ahead, at their approaching attackers. Rain began to fall. They were closer. Much closer. How did they move so quietly? How much of did they hear of the spoken exchange? For a long, drawn out time, Rimat and Maenam were perfectly still and silent. And then, too soon, the man was standing over her. She locked eyes with his, through the eye holes in his barbaric headwear. He regarded her dispassionately for a long moment. Then his hand grasped the the handle of his axe. He was halfway through drawing it when Maenam stood up. Rimat wasn't looking in his direction, but there was a flash of light and the barbarian woman was thrown from her feet. In the next moment a rock the size of Rimat's head was flying at the man, but at a flick of his left hand the air shimmered and it was sent harmlessly spinning away before it reached him. Axe in hand, the man turned and bounded towards Maenam. And for a brief moment, Rimat saw that on the braided necklace around this monster's neck hung an object of ivory, carved with black Daedric runes. And before she knew it she was scrambling away from the path, slipping down the mountainside in a cascade of dirt and rocks. Arrows struck and bounced off the ground around her. There was a sudden drop- unable to slow her descent in time, she went over the cliff and for a moment she fell, completely surrounded by white fog. She splashed down into a stream, landing jarringly, her leg sinking into the soft bed. As she struggled out, she could hear shouts coming from all around. Rimat ran as hard as she could, fruitlessly trying to loosen the bindings of her pack to lose the dead weight. Her gaze distracted, she surprised herself by running into someone, bowling them both over. Scrambling up, she saw it was another barbarian man. He looked up from the ground, seeming at least as surprised as her. She shrieked, kicked him in the stomach, then kept on running. At every step she thought she could hear him running behind her. She couldn't help it- she tried to glance behind, and immediately tripped over a rock. She got to her feet again as quickly as she could and kept on running. It wasn't long before her path was cut off by a rushing river. She stopped, gasping for breath. She could still hear the mad shouting of the barbarian men, echoing between the mountains. The fog was beginning to dissipate as the rain began to fall in earnest. It wouldn't protect her from being seen for long. Without hesitating further, she strode into the stream. About a third of the way across she was already regretting the choice. She was moving downstream, fast, and digging her feet into the mud wasn't helping at all. Halfway across, it was too late to turn back. She was sent tumbling with the the rapids, her shoulder banging against a rock. Thankfully most of the weight absorbed by the pack. It was getting harder and harder to keep her head above the surface. Gasping for air, she felt exhaustion taking her, felt her strength failing. Her head was pushed under, she was spun upside-down by the currents, thrown down against the river bed, flung up again to desperately gasp for air, only to choke down water into her lungs. She struck another rock, and another. In the end, she was just strong enough to outlast the rapids. She crawled up onto the muddy bank, shivering, coughing and bruised. She had never in her life felt so exhausted. And now she was at least a little drier. In a safe place. She rested, eyes open only a crack. Red candles burned around her, countless little candles filling the room with warm light. She squinted, scrunched her eyes and opened them properly. Not candles. Fireflies. The rain had passed, and so had the day. The clouds had disappeared completely and the full glory of the starry sky stretched above her. Her body shook as she coughed. She stumbled to her feet to look about, and couldn't see any sign of the path. She looked up at the stars, rubbing her arms for warmth. She turned to the North, and again, before she knew it, she was putting one foot in front of the other.

So you'll need to import both the creature and it's skeleton into blender. Next, you need to move the skeleton's location so that it's joints align with the creature's joints. Ideally this should be the case if their origins are in the same place, but it hasn't always been so for me. Next, add an "Armature" modifier to the creature mesh, and set it's skeleton as the target. Set the modifier to work with vertex weights, but not bone envelopes. Now if you select the skeleton, and switch from object mode to pose mode, you can pose the skeleton and the creature will follow suit. (You'll have to do it by rotating the bones in an unintuitive way. I got sick of this and made a modified human skeleton which could be posed more easily; I can upload it if you like) Once you got the pose you like, you can click "Apply" on the armature modifier and the creature mesh will be frozen into place. The frozen mesh can then be exported like a normal, un-weighted mesh (like a sword or a rock). You may need to delete it's vertex weights. They're called vertex groups in Blender, and they'll have the same names as the skeleton's bones. The creature will retain it's UV map, so you can apply some photoshop filters to it's diffuse textures to make it into a statue. I hope this is helpful. I'd be more specific but I mostly work in Blender 2.6 and I can't remember the 2.4 interface/hotkeys. Let me know if anything requires clarification.

Whoa-hoa! That was fast. I will try those things and get back to you. It just occurred to me that while I created a complex custom collision mesh, the template I chose used a convex collision shape; maybe that's the problem. Edit: Your BSLightingShaderProperty suggestion worked like a charm. Now onto collision.

So since InsanitySorrow made a tutorial on exporting custom meshes with collision, I decided I'd try and finish a project from a while ago which I had to abandon due to there being no tools to create collision with. I have run into two major problems. The first is that the CK crashes when attempting to render my custom .nif, and the second is that the collision is not working correctly. Everything appears correct and orderly in Nifskope. However, when I try to assign the mesh to an object in the Creation Kit, the following notification appears: And then the CK freezes and crashes. To test for the source of the problem, I used the new mesh as a replacer for an existing vanilla object. It renders beautifully in-game. So it would seem that only the CK has a problem with my .nif file. This is a big problem as it will require tedious work-arounds for me to create any non-replacer object. The second problem is that the object appears to have the collision of a bowl. It tends to roll upright and the upper half clips through everything: It's probably worth noting the "template" which ChunkMerge used to create the collision was the glazedbowl01 mesh. Any help or advice on these two problems would be greatly appreciated. I feel guilty for all the screenshots I put up of projects that are never finished to good enough standards to release.