Cyrodiil Options

[Alexander]

Ok, so for the unavoidable introduction babble, as most of you know I was rather pleased with Morrowind. I thought it was far better then the dribble I wrote prior to that, and most people seemed to agree with me. After I finished Morrowind I already had an idea for a sequel, I actually wrote the very first chapter of said sequel while I was posting up parts of Morrowind. Unfortunately though, after that first chapter I kind of lost interest. I didn’t think the ideas I had back then were enough to weave an entire story together, and I was probably right.

But as these things have a habit of developing themselves, over the past months I kept thinking back to the sequel, and kept adding ideas to the pile I already had. Now it’s done. I once again enjoyed writing this, and I hope you’ll have similar fun reading it.

As I’ve explained in the past, I’m not very good at making up things like titles, Akatosh knows it took me about as long to come up with the various titles of the chapters as it did to write the entire thing, so I’ve named the story “Cyrodiil” (catchy wot? )

Before I end my babbling and get on with posting the story, I once again would like to thank Treydog for agreeing to help with my story as editor, and for fixing the many, many, many grammatical and spelling errors, and placing every comma, semicolon and whatchamacallit in the correct place. And thanks to everyone who ever read Morrowind, and commented. I really enjoy the comments.


Now, while you don’t have to have read Morrowind, I believe in order to get the most out of Cyrodiil, it would be recommended.


So, enough babbling and on to Cyrodiil.

[Alexander]

Chapter 1. The end? Or the beginning?


Cyrodiil, the Imperial City, Elder Council chambers.

Varvur walked into the council chambers, just one step ahead of Martin, Jauffre and Baurus. He spotted Chancellor Ocato and walked right up to him. He was about to speak, but the chancellor cut him off; “I’ve been expecting you; the full council has already considered the matter of Martin’s claim to the throne in detail.”

With that said, Ocato walked up to Martin Septim, knelt down and spoke “Martin Septim, on behalf of the Elder Council I accept your claim to the Imperial throne.“

Varvur smiled at hearing those words, but his smile quickly faded when a messenger barged into the council chambers.

“Chancellor Ocato, Chancellor Ocato, the city is under attack! Oblivion gates have opened and Daedra are inside the walls. The guard is overwhelmed.”

Ocato responded calmly; “Courage soldier, we have an emperor again. Your highness, what are your orders? Shall the guards fall back to the palace?”

“No! If we let ourselves get besieged in the palace we are doomed; we must get to the Temple of the One Immediately.”

“As you command, Emperor. Guards, form up and protect the emperor. To the Temple of the One.”

As the chancellor was speaking, Varvur noticed two figures entering the council chambers, both dressed in full Daedric armor. Not just figures, two Daedra! Without thinking Varvur drew his blade and rushed towards the two Daedra. The moment his blade met that of the first Daedra, he knew he was in for a tough fight. Fortunately the two were vastly outnumbered. Jauffre, Baurus, Martin, Ocato and the guards present were soon joined against the two intruders and together, it took them but a few moments to dispose of them.

The situation must be terrible, Varvur found himself thinking, if Daedra had been able to slip into the palace proper. He moved in front of Martin and, after looking for reassurance, started moving toward the door.

Outside, in the Green Emperor way, he immediately saw they were in trouble again. In front of them, three Daedra were running toward them, and to the left, another four were coming at them. Seven Daedra against eight of them- it would be a close call. He didn’t stop to consider it though, and rushed directly toward the three Daedra who were coming at them from the front. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two of the guards stationed at the entrance to the palace following him.

Two of the Daedra came at Varvur, while the guards took on the third. Varvur was hard pressed; just when he’d defended against one blow, the second Daedra would strike. It left no time to attack himself. All he could hope for was to keep the two busy long enough for the two guards to take care of their opponent and come to his aid. The alternative was not something Varvur wanted to consider. But from what he could tell, that single Daedra was giving the two guards a hard time.

All of a sudden one of the Daedra he was fighting came at Varvur at an odd angle, leaving itself exposed but also forcing Varvur to drop his blade low to defend against the strike. He knew at once he’d been tricked when he saw the second Daedra come in with a high strike. Was this then how he would meet his end? Having come so far but still coming up short in the end. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable blow that would end his life, but after some seconds, it hadn’t come.

He opened his eyes again, and saw the Daedra who had minutes ago been ready to deliver a deathly blow to him, now frozen with a number of arrows protruding from his neck area. Varvur spun around lightning fast and delivered a crippling blow to the leg of his other opponent. Behind the body of the first Daedra, he saw a number of Imperial legionnaires running toward him. They were shooting arrows as they came and Varvur saw the Daedra facing the two guards had also been disposed of by well-timed missiles.

He quickly ran back up the stairs and towards Martin and his group. They were doing well too; two Daedra had already been defeated with a third staggering. Baurus and Chancellor Ocato were battling the fourth. Varvur wanted to smile, but then he saw Baurus suddenly stumble over the foot of a fallen legionnaire, and drop to his knees. Ocato moved in front of him but was thrown back by a shockwave emanating from what must have been a spell.

As fast as Varvur could, he ran up to Baurus and, just as the Daedra was readying his warhammer to deliver a deathly blow to Baurus, Varvur used all of the might he had to force his blade into the Daedra’s stomach. The warhammer fell, and so did the Daedra, shattering Varvur’s blade in the process.

Looking over, Varvur saw Martin and Jauffre and the newly arrived troops had gotten rid of the last of the Daedra and all was quiet again, for now anyway.

Varvur looked down at Baurus, who appeared still to be in shock, and offered him a hand to help him up. “Thank you Varvur, you saved my life, yet again.”

“Don’t mention it Baurus. I didn’t save you from Raven Camoran only to see you die at the hands of some generic Daedra here.” They exchanged a meaningful smile. It was a moment they would likely carry with them for the rest of their lives.

Varvur looked around for a new weapon. The dead legionnaire had carried a blade, a standard imperial broadsword, but for now it would have to do. He saw the commander of the men who had arrived in time to turn the fight walk up to Martin, bow and speak;

“The palace is cut off, sire. We are the last to make it through from the Legion compound. My men and I are at your disposal. What are your orders?”

“I need to get to the Temple of the One; it’s our only chance to stop Mehrunes Dagon.”

“Yes sir! Let’s move out!”

Varvur again took the lead. He wanted to make sure nothing unexpected would come before them. They ran a short way and entered the temple district.

Looking left, Varvur saw two Daedra but also saw there were several legionnaires already battling them. The Legion commander sent two of his men to help them and Varvur knew it would be enough. He looked to the right and saw another few Daedra running at them. One of them was a Xivilai, an even more dangerous opponent than the more common Daedra. He did not hesitate, but ran straight for the blue-skinned Xivilai. Chancellor Ocato and Jauffre were there fighting next to him. He was thankful for that, because one blow from the Xivilai told him he might not have made it on his own, not after the fights he’d already been in that day.

The three of them together were able to defeat the Xivilai swiftly, and after regrouping with Martin, Baurus and the rest of the men, they were once again ready to move on.

Nothing had prepared Varvur for what he saw as he rounded the last curve; for there in front of him, next to the entrance to the Temple of the One, towered Mehrunes Dagon himself, a giant with a wicked Daedric battleaxe in one hand and a vicious claw-like weapon in another. As he came into view, Varvur saw him pick up one of the Imperial guards that was fighting him, and tear him apart with his two free hands. Fire, blood, and intestines fell all around them and Varvur turned to Martin just as the new Emperor started to speak;

“We’re too late. Mehrunes Dagon is here. Lighting the dragonfires will no longer save us; the barriers that protected us from Oblivion are gone.”

Hearing that from someone he had hoped would be able to protect them all from the Daedra prince was a blow to Varvur. He responded, “Can we cast him back into Oblivion?”

“I don’t see how. Mortal weapons may hurt him but now that he is physically here in Tamriel, they have no power to actually destroy him.”

“What about the Amulet of Kings?”

Martin seemed to ponder that for a moment, “Wait… yes, the amulet was given to mortals by Akatosh, and it contains his divine power. But how to use this power against Dagon? The amulet was not intended as a weapon.”

He considered the question with the lightning-fast intellect Varvur had come to know, then spoke decisively,

“I have an idea, one last hope. I must reach the dragon fires in the Temple of the One.”

“But you said it was no use.”

Martin looked reassuringly at Varvur and responded, “You’ll just have to trust me. I now know what I was born to do. I need your help; I just have to get past Mehrunes Dagon.”

“I’ll get you to the Temple.”

“Then I’ll do the rest. Lead on my friend.”


Varvur motioned to the others to advance and while they were obviously all deathly afraid of this giant god in front of them, they moved anyway. To Mehrunes it must have seemed like a pack of ants coming after him, but ants with very sharp weapons anyway. And while none of them was even able to slightly hurt the Daedric God, they did what Varvur had intended for them to do; they distracted the Daedra long enough so that Varvur and Martin could sneak past the god and into the temple.

As soon as they entered the temple, Martin’s face grew serene, and he walked to the far side of the room with Varvur following. Martin turned to Varvur and spoke;

“I do what I must do; I cannot stay to rebuild Tamriel; that task falls to others.
Farewell- you’ve been a good friend in the short time that I’ve known you.
But now I must go; the Dragon waits.”

After that Martin ran to the center of the room and stood within the very center of the Temple. Varvur ran after him but before he was able to come too close and ask Martin what he meant, a rumbling froze him in place. He looked up just in time to see Mehrunes Dagon destroy most of the ceiling of the temple and step inside.

Varvur looked back at Martin, thinking he had to be frozen in fear as well, but instead he saw hisfriend, his Emperor rip the amulet from around his neck, and smash it on the floor. The moment the amulet was shattered, bright white light begun to emanate from Martin’s very core. The light kept on getting brighter until Varvur was forced to cover his eyes. Then came an explosion that seemed to sear through his hands and eyelids, and the white light turned to orange and was gone.

Varvur uncovered his eyes and saw that where Martin had stood a giant dragon now roared defiance at Mehrunes. Akatosh! Akatosh the dragon god must have somehow come to defend Tamriel against the evil Daedric god Mehrunes Dagon. Praise be Azura.

Mehrunes did not appear to be intimidated; he swung his battle axe and delivered a mighty blow to the dragon’s side. He followed that with a blow from his claw. Akatosh roared his defiance again, and beat massive wings to rise up and strike at Mehrunes. Landing back on his feet, the dragon clamped his powerful jaw to bite upon Mehrunes’ throat. It would have been a death-blow against any mortal opponent, and must have hurt even the Daedra prince, for Mehrunes slumped over.

Akatosh roared again, and this time unleashed a rain of fire onto Mehrunes. Everywhere it touched him, bright white light began to shine from the body of Mehrunes. And his voice cried out. “No! No! Thwarted again!” His hideous face suddenly turned to look directly at Varvur. “You, foolish mortal, you dared interfere with the plans of Mehrunes Dagon?”

“I might be banished back into Oblivion once more, but I shall not leave alone.”

With that Varvur felt a huge, scaly hand wrap itself around him, crushing him. He cried out in agony but there was no one there to help him. Then all around him the world turned dark.






Baurus entered the Temple of the One just as the hand of Mehrunes Dagon was closing over Varvur. Light was pouring through Mehrunes entire body now and just as he prepared to rush to Varvur, to perhaps cut him free , Mehrunes let out one last cry and vanished, along with Varvur.

Baurus looked up with tears in his eyes, and saw Akatosh come back down to the ground. For a moment he thought he saw pity in the god’s eyes, and then Akatosh raised his head, as if to roar at the sky, but then he closed them again, lowered his head a bit and stopped moving.

Where the living Dragon had stood just moments before, there was now a marble statue claws and wings spread wide, looking up at the sky.

Baurus couldn’t admire the beauty of it, though, all he could think about was what he’d seen just moments ago- the hand of Mehrunes closing around Varvur’s body, and then both of them disappearing.

He dropped his blade and shield, sank onto his knees and wailed at the sky.