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]

With cold sweat on his face, Ocato startled awake that night. He was breathing heavily and had to take a moment to get his breathing under control again. He had had the most awful nightmare. He couldn’t remember all of it, but he could remember a single shape- a tall, wide creature with burning eyes and long pointed claws. Spread out behind it were two large white wings, and the being’s skin was white as snow. It was truly the stuff of legends.

A noise just outside his chamber doors disturbed his ponderings. “Evangeline,” Ocato called. There was no reply.

Getting up out of bed, Ocato pulled on his robe and headed for the door. Preparing a spell that would incinerate any attackers he might encounter, he opened the door, only to find there were no attackers, merely an old Imperial guarding his inner chamber. Evangeline was not at her usual place behind the desk. From the looks of the old soldier he’d had a little too much to drink. Not only was he wearing antiquated armor rather than the regulation armor and slowly swaying on his feet, he was also quietly singing what appeared to Ocato were very old drinking songs. He likely hadn’t even registered the door opening and Ocato standing there looking at him.

“What is the meaning of this, soldier?” To Ocato’s surprise the guard didn’t even try to straighten up at the sound of his voice.

“Ah Chancellor, I’m sorry if I woke you, I was merely trying to keep myself awake. At my age it becomes a problem, you know.”

The insolence of the man. “Soldier, do you realize you’re out of uniform? How could your sergeant allow you to come up like this?”

“Ah begging your pardon, Chancellor, my sergeant doesn’t really know I’m here. I traded shifts with someone else; I was the sober one of the two of us.”

Ocato merely shook his head in wonder. If this was what the Legions had become, the empire was indeed in for a very challenging time. “Why don’t you come with me soldier; we’ll go find your sergeant and get this sorted out.”

“Yes sir, Chancellor, sir.”

Walking through the palace corridors with the old soldier in tow, the first thing Ocato noticed was how quiet it was. No sounds reached his ears, no cling of armor, no sound of iron or steel boots hitting the floor. There were no Ancestor Moth priests either, which by itself was disturbing as they prided themselves on being ever vigilant in guarding the Elder Scrolls. He was about to ask the old soldier about it as they were passing through a door to the guard level, when Ocato found one of the doors to be stuck. It appeared as if someone or something was blocking it. The other door did open normally though, and looking at the back of the blocked door Ocato saw Evangeline standing there, with one hand on the door as if wanting to open it, but she seemed to be frozen in place. Ocato didn’t even see her chest moving to breathe in and out. “Evangeline,.” he called to her. He got no reply.

Slowly touching her skin, he discovered that it felt as cold as ice. Still though, it did not appear to Ocato as if she was dead. Turning to the old soldier he asked if he knew what was wrong, but the look of puzzlement said it all. Ocato thought the best thing to do now was find the other guards and ask them what had happened.

Running towards the guard room, Ocato slowly became aware of an ever increasing sound, which seemed to be coming from somewhere beneath them. Unfortunately, as he entered the guard room Ocato saw they would not be of any help either. Each one of them was frozen in place just like Evangeline was. Walking back outside he saw the old soldier was keeping close. He likely was more scared of all this than the chancellor, Ocato figured.

The sound he had been hearing seemed to be coming from a lower level. Rushing further along the corridors towards the sound, Ocato came to door leading to the ground level of the palace, the level where the Elder Council chamber was located. By his estimate the sound seemed to be coming from within the Council chambers. Opening the door to the ground level with the old soldier laboring to keep up, Ocato first noticed two guards standing to either side of the door. Both were wearing the same antiquated armor the old soldier was wearing, and both looked very much alive and unfrozen. They didn’t even recognize Ocato as he passed between them and to Ocato it looked like both were somehow strangely less then solid.

Walking on and opening the doors to the Council Chambers he stood still in shock. It looked as if a party was going on. Everywhere he looked people were drinking, and laughing and having a blast. Strangely enough, he did not recognize any of the people inside at first glance. What really caught his attention though was the Imperial throne, which Ocato had moved into the basement for the time being. It was back in its original place, looking as if it had never left, and on it someone was seated. Walking inside the chambers to catch a better look, Ocato felt as if his jaw had just dropped. Seated upon the throne was Tiber Septim himself. And surrounding him on all sides, the four legendary Blades; Rielus, Casnar, Valdemar and Alain.

“This has to be a dream.” Ocato told himself out loud.

“A dream? Yes, well sort of anyway. A memory would be better suited.” Ocato heard the old soldier as he came to stand next to him. Ocato now realized the soldier had never really been drunk.

“Look at him Chancellor, look at the emperor. He’s so filled with pride and confidence. This is when he celebrated the creation of the Empire. Just a week ago he finally beat the Aldmeri dominion, and now feels he’s unstoppable. He’s already plotting what would be his greatest crime against the Empire- killing those neutral royal families just so they cannot oppose his claims in the future. How I wish I could take him apart and give him a piece of my mind. Alas, what has gone before cannot be changed; only the future may be influenced lest Akatosh gets cross with one.”

While the old soldier was speaking, Ocato quickly realized he was much more than an Imperial guard. He suspected he knew who it was, but it was one thing to look at Tiber Septim sitting on his throne, and quite another to have him stand next to you. And both at once? It was much too late for such a complicated thought.

Turning to Ocato, the soldier spoke again; “You must be wondering why I brought you, Chancellor. I have a confession to make. During my days I was not entirely faithful to my wife. There was a Breton servant at the court whom I could not resist. I fathered a son with her, and sent her to live in High Rock for fear of embarrassing my wife. The line from that son has been going strong throughout the ages, and is unbroken to this day. Yes Ocato, there is a single Septim left alive. He is of Imperial and Breton descent and is destined to rule the Empire as the next Septim.”

Ocato’s mind was reeling from the implications, a lost heir, another lost heir aside from Martin? Could the Empire really be that lucky?

“What does he look like, Emperor Septim? And where will I be able to find him?”

“Please, call me Wulf. I haven’t been Emperor around these parts in many centuries. And as to how he looks, look around Chancellor; an image of him is inside these very chambers.”

Looking around Ocato saw many of the partying guests, but they all looked very much like the Emperor on the throne and like the guards, they were all somehow transparent. All but one. Ocato mused as his eyes were drawn to someone. A bumbling Jester, complete with silly hat with bells on it, and trying to juggle, cats? Like Tiber, Wulf and himself, the Jester was the only one in the room who looked normal.

“A Jester?” he asked Wulf.

“Why not; it seemed like a good disguise at the time. Had the Mythic Dawn found out about him, they surely would have killed him as well, so I had no choice but to hide him, in a disguise and well away from the grasp of the assassins. One thing to remember Chancellor; in naming him, he will know himself. Don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense, it will when the time comes.”

“And where did you hide him, Wulf?”

“Safest place in the Empire, Chancellor; outside of it. I hid him in the one place I knew the assassins would not look, I hid him in Morrowind.”