The Scroll, the Priest and the Angry Imperial, Formerly known as, 'Dawn of a New Era' Options

[redsrock]

Author's Note

My new fan-fic focuses on the 'new' Count of Skingrad, and the 'new' Cyrodiil. This story takes place three years after the Oblivion Crisis, and the story simply tells the Count's adventures, mishaps, etc. The first chapter is more of a 'telling' chapter, rather than a 'doing' chapter. It might seem boring, but I assure you, it has to be this way. I have to lay down all the ground work so that you don't get confused down the road. Trust me; there will be plenty of action in this fic. That is what has been lacking in my other tales.

Feel free to ask any questions about what's going on, I'd be glad to answer them for you. And of course I'd appreciate some feed back as well.


The Scroll, the Priest and the Angry Imperial


PROLOGUE

When the Gates of Oblivion were finally closed, and once Mehrunes Dagon and the Mythic Dawn were eliminated from existence, the province of Cyrodiil was still left with an enormous problem. They were without an Emperor, and without an Emperor Cyrodiil went into an immediate mode of panic.

Ever since the Oblivion Crisis, the cities of Cyrodiil have had to fend for themselves, resulting in several alliances. The territories of Cyrodiil have changed, and the map at the bottom explains everything.

As of now there are four regions spread out through Tamriel. These regions are simply classified as North, South, East and West. VERY simple, yes, but what's the point of making fancy names? Nobody cares anyway.

The North region, as you can see from the map, consists of Bruma and Chorrol. Essentially the entire area of the Jerall Mountains is under Northern control, and that in its self would make them a formidable foe if war were to break out. (Thankfully that has yet to happen) The leaders of the North are Countesses Arriana Valga (of Chorrol) and Narina Carvain (of Bruma). Both are skillful leaders in their own right, and Lady Carvain is a shrewd and tactful negotiator. As of now the Northerners are fairly quiet, and for the most part keep to themselves.

The East region consists of Cheydinhal and the Imperial City. The leaders are Count Andel Indarys (of Cheydinhal), and High Commander Adamus Hieronymus Lex (of Imperial City). Lex took over as leader of the Legion once the Chancellor Ocato was assassinated by an unknown assailant. It is rumored that Lex had something to do with the killing, but nothing is factual. After Ocato's death the Council got scared and decided to let Cyrodiil fend for itself as a whole. Yes, that does sound a bit absurd, but that is what has resulted.

Count Indarys lets Lex do most of the talking, though it is also rumored that Indarys wishes to employ a more Dunmerian influence within the Eastern leadership. It is highly unlikely for Lex to agree with that. Whatever is left of the Legion lies in the Eastern region. Though their area is the second smallest, they hold all advantages in terms of military because of their massive army-size.

You see, once Lex was formally named leader of the Legion (though of course he did this himself oddly enough, no doubt with a swift and iron first) he recalled all Legion troops from foreign lands. Now Morrowind stands Imperial-less, and Helseth is now the main-man over there, battling his way through the angry Ashlander tribes of course.

The Easterners are very active, fighting with the Southerners for area control. Also, the troops of Cheydinhal are currently dealing with some rebels in the northeast. As of now they have not bothered the North and West, but it is inevitable that something will happen sooner or later.

The South region includes the cities, Leyawiin and Bravil. Leaders of the region are Counts Marius Caro (of Leyawiin), and Regulus Terentius. The two leaders are power hungry, plain and simple. It is almost safe to say that the South and East are the 'bad guys' of Cyrodiil, but if one had to be chosen as the 'good guys' it would probably be the South. The East wants power all to them selves, and they pose the greatest threat. Either way the two forces are equally dangerous.

And last but not least is the West, which includes Anvil and Skingrad. The leaders of the West are Countess Millona Umbranox (of Anvil), and myself, Count Louis Vero (of Skingrad). There's no doubt in my mind you're wondering where Janus Hassildor is, correct? Well, I'll tell you.

The former Skingrad Count stepped down shortly after the Oblivion Crisis, one year to be exact. Nobody knows the true reason for his departure, but I have my own theory. Count Hassildor was a vampire, though not many knew this. I myself knew because I was a personal diplomat for the former Count of Skingrad. Somehow a few others found out about his dirty secret, and in my eyes Janus felt the need to leave before a riot started. Either way it doesn't matter, I (along with my lovely wife), am the present and future of Skingrad.

Like the Northerners, we Westerners like to keep to ourselves and not cause a ruckus. Out of all the major cities in Cyrodiil I'd say Skingrad is the most prosperous. Many merchants come to my city simply for the fact that I will let just about anyone open shop, as long as their items aren't illegal of course. I don't want a city full of skooma and moon-sugar addicts, mind you.

And now, as I stand here on my balcony with the cool, evening wind blowing in my face, I can only feel lucky to be in the position I am now. Skingrad has been lucky to have had a peaceful atmosphere for the past few years, and that of course has made my transition to Count smooth as well. However, something tells me that the peace will not last much longer. I don't know why, but I have a very bad feeling something major is going to happen. I just wish I knew what it was.


http://s284.photobucket.com/albums/ll18/re...nt=Cyrodiil.jpg

This post has been edited by redsrock: Apr 20 2008, 02:35 PM

[redsrock]

CHAPTER NINE


“Wake up….wake up, Louis!”

Suddenly my eyes opened and Rachel was staring into my eyes, looking rather angry I should add.

“What…? I swear you were…”

I was of course totally confused by what was going on. It must have all been a dream because I was now sitting at my throne and Rachel was shaking my arms forcefully. I was so relieved to see her alive I immediately took hold of her face and kissed her forcefully.

“Louis, what’s gotten into you?” She asked, smiling a bit from the aggressive kiss, but still embarrassed by me falling asleep.

“I, I had a dream, Rachel. I dreamt that you were killed in an accident outside the city. We had been arguing about Millona and the operation, and you got angry with me for not listening to you. Then you ran outside and got ran over by a horse carriage.”

She looked at me crazily and said, “Well thankfully it was a dream, but that still doesn’t excuse you for falling asleep.”

“I blame it on too much wine at breakfast,” I joked, but she wasn’t in the mood for such antics.

“Come on, Louis, act like you’re a Count and not some drunken street bum,” she said while waving one of the towns’ folk that was visiting the castle.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and I was still surprised that I had fallen asleep at the throne. It wasn’t like me to do something like that, but I can’t really explain why it happened. Honestly, I only had one glass of wine during breakfast, so it couldn’t have been alcohol.

The rest of the day was spent sitting at the throne, and meeting with several of my own people. The advisors had settled in for the day, and my men were busy [patrolling the streets. Such a day was normal for me in these times, and was actually quite boring now that I think about it. The only exciting part was dinner I suppose, and that’s exactly where Rachel and I were headed at around six o’clock that evening.

Now, normally a Count and his wife will dine at their own personal rooms in the castle, but as you’ve probably already figured out, I’m not exactly ‘normal’ compared to other rulers. Rather than eating at the castle, I took Rachel to the “Succulent Saloon”, a nice and expensive restaurant/bar on the southern side of the city. The owner and chef, Bozwic the Bosmer, was a very friendly elf and prepares the most delicious fish fillets I’ve ever tasted.

“Louis, Rachel! It’s been a longtime, too long!” Bozwic had personally greeted us, for he knew earlier that we were stopping by. But to be honest, we were just there last week.

Bozwic was certainly the eccentric little elf, with his tall red Mohawk and his gold ear-rings. He was extremely energetic, and always trying to get a laugh out of everyone. He only had two other people working for him, for he rarely trusted anyone else to prepare the food. With him everything had to be perfect, and the prices definitely reflected that.

We only had to wait about twenty minutes for our meals, (we both were eating the filleted fish), and while we passed the time one of Bozwic’s workers brought us a tray of mixed fruits and vegetables, picked from the finest gardens and vineyards. Soon the meal was ready and we started to eat.

After we began eating Rachel said, “I hate to bring up a sour subject during dinner, but I still don’t like Millona’s plan.”

I took a drink from my wine glass and responded, “I know, I know, but we’ll just have to see. Who knows, maybe we’ll find out a lot of stuff from this mission. I’ll admit, it does sound a little….fishy!” Rachel really liked my fish joke, and she actually laughed for the first time in several days. And of course that was an excellent sign.

After finishing the meal and then talking with Bozwic for a few minutes, Rahcle and I retired for the night and went straight for our balcony. It seemed as if this was becoming a ritual nowadays. I poured us both a glass of brandy and a maid brought up a slice of carrot cake for each of us.

“I like coming out here and talking to you, Rachel. I really mean that,” I said, watching the clouds move by, making way for the bright moon and it children.

She leaned over and kissed me gently on the left cheek. “So do I, Louis. And for once I am not even going to try and argue with you, about anything. I just want to drink my wine and eat my cake, and talk to you about anything but politics.”

I could tell something was on her mind, so I asked, “What’s up, Rachel? Is something bothering you?”

She placed her cake and wine glass on the table and said, “No, nothing is bothering me. I’m actually happier now than I have been in a very long time. Louis…I’m pregnant.”