Interregnum, 854 of the Second Era Options

[Destri Melarg]

To the Reader

This story takes place over the course of one year, 854 of the Second Era. It details the end of interregnum and the founding of the Septim line of Emperors. Inspiration for this story is drawn from two sources. The first is a one line entry in the timeline for the Second Era:

2E 854 - The Emperor was assassinated by a High Rock nightblade who also burned the Imperial Palace to the ground and attempted to kill General Talos.

I have come to believe that history is merely the propaganda of the winning side. This entry tells you what happened, but it doesn’t tell you how or why it happened. I have attempted to address those questions in this story.

For the second source of inspiration I express no embarrassment in saying that the form is blatantly lifted from my favorite of the in-game books, Carlovac Townway’s remarkable 2920: The Last Year of the First Era

Some of the characters you will encounter in this story have been lifted from the in-game books. Others are the product of the author’s imagination. I do not claim to have mastered the lore so if I stray too far from it, please don’t hesitate to call me on it. That said, there are a few ‘liberties’ that I have taken in this story which I feel I must draw to your attention:

- Tamriel is a much larger place than the game world. A day’s journey in game takes a week (weather and terrain permitting) in the story.
- Cities are larger and far more populated than they are in the game.

My deepest gratitude goes out to RemkoNL, mALX, Acadian, hauteecole rider, Winter Wolf, SubRosa, and treydog for their steadfast support of this story. Without you I doubt that it would exist.

As always any comments, criticisms, or suggestions are most welcome.

* * *

Table of Contents

Book One: Morning Star
Book Two: Sun's Dawn
Book Three: First Seed

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Aug 14 2010, 12:15 AM

[Destri Melarg]

Well, you know how I feel about this story!
Are you going to change things as well or is it the same as I read before?
Okay, I know, I know, I should just read it.

Most of the chapters are being re-written, but the rewrites are subtle. Just things that I noticed that perhaps no one else ever will. But there will be at least two, maybe more, chapters that never made it into the original. Be on the lookout for the first of Sun's Dawn, that's all I am going to say.

_____

12th Morning Star, 2E 854
Fort Black Boot, Near Cyrodiil’s Border with Elsweyr
Mid-day


For the sixth consecutive day the garrison dug trenches. The sound of picks and shovels reverberated through the valley, broken only by hastily yelled warnings as another felled tree hit Nirn. Several of the reinforcements, on horseback, hauled the dying wood to clear the land for more trenches, and to give the armorers more material for stakes.

Zurin Arctus stood on top of the watchtower and gazed to the south. From his vantage point he could see where the tree tops ended and the arid plains of Elsweyr began. Beyond the border he saw the lines of Khajiit tents before the walls of Riverhold. But that was not what drew his attention. He was more concerned with the storm clouds on the horizon, and the wind that had just shifted to the east.

Beside him Captain Itinius cradled his battered helmet and studied the Khajiit position. “That’s quite a host, Sir,” he said, “ten, maybe fifteen thousand strong, I think. It’s hard to tell at this distance, and organized. Even with the reinforcements we’ll be heavily outnumbered. Has there been any word from our Skyrim reserve?”

“Assume we’re on our own, Captain,” said Arctus, turning his attention to the Khajiit tents. “Make sure your men are ready, the attack will come tonight.”

Itinius hesitated. “Sir?”

“Speak freely, Captain.”

“Not meaning to tell the Battlemage his business, sir, but they look pretty much bivouacked to me. I’m sure their spies have told them of our situation. A night attack seems like an unnecessary risk. If what they’re doing is a feint, well, it’s a lot of trouble to go through considering how badly they outnumber us.”

“Khajiit see in the dark, Captain.”

Itinius nodded and smiled at his own stupidity. “Yes sir,” he said, “that they do.”

Movement to the west caught Arctus’ attention. A lone trooper reined his horse at the fortifications. He spoke briefly with the guard who pointed to the watchtower. The trooper nodded his thanks, dismounted, and disappeared into the fort.

Arctus heard the rapid footsteps on the tower stairs and turned away from the coming storm. The trooper emerged through the door. He saluted Captain Itinius with a clenched fist over his heart, and struggled to regain his breath.

“General Talos sends his compliments, sir,” he said to Arctus, haltingly. He looked sideways at Itinius as he tried to remain at attention, but his ride and the steps were causing him trouble.

He was a boy, no more than six and ten. Each year they get younger, Arctus thought, and we get older.

“Do you have a message, lad, or is the Battlemage expected to guess?” Itinius barked.

The boy flushed and held himself erect. “Yes sir! Sorry, sir.” Then to Arctus, “the General requests your company, sir.”

“Very well,” said Arctus, “I shall attend him. Get something to eat and water your horse, then report back to the General’s camp.”

“Yes sir.” The young trooper saluted, then turned and entered the tower.

“Have my horse prepared,” Arctus said.

“Will you require a bodyguard, Master Arctus?”

“No thank you, Captain. Keep the men occupied with their work. The less they know about tonight the better.”

“Yes sir.” Itinius nodded and performed a salute that thumped on his well-worn cuirass. He turned with practiced efficiency.

“Are you a man of faith, Captain?” Arctus asked, staring into the eye of the storm.

Itinius stopped. “Yes sir. I don’t spend much time in the Temple, but I believe in the Eight.”

“In that case you might say a prayer to Kynareth for a favorable wind.”

Itinius nodded and repeated his salute. He lingered momentarily, trying to see what the Battlemage saw, but to him the wind felt fine.

_____

Arctus rode through the gate and turned to the west. Past the trenches and the garrison he mounted a gentle slope and stopped at the edge of a deep grove. The wind picked up and shifted to the north. He closed his eyes as the first gusts hit the right side of his cheek, then he turned in his saddle to view the storm clouds. They’re getting closer, he thought; perhaps the Captain is a man of faith after all. He spurred his horse into the grove. The trees formed a canopy of gold and brown above him. They began to climb, the grade steep enough that he had to lean forward to maintain his balance. The curtain of trees parted, and the catapults came into view. Forty of them at the top of the hill, all aimed toward Fort Black Boot. As he came upon them, his horse neighed in protest as the smell hit her nostrils. Seconds later he shared her discomfort.

The carcasses were lined up near the catapults, in numbers too great to count. Most were once wolves of every size and variety, but there were dogs mixed in as well. The smell alone should give the Khajiit pause, Arctus thought.

Past the catapults Arctus looked down into the General’s camp. There were no fires burning. More than two hundred tents were huddled together in the valley, as if proximity could ward off the cold. Five centuries of a hundred men each milled through the tent lines. Some drilled in formation; others sat in small groups shivering under their blankets. Whatever activity they were engaged in they maintained a strict silence so as not to betray their position.

Arctus rode down into the camp. He rode through a sea of faces, sullen, ruddy with the cold, and eager to meet the enemy. Some stood and gave a hasty salute to mark his passing. The General’s tent was erected in the center, the hub that held the other tents together. As he dismounted a trooper appeared beside him and took the bridle of his horse. Arctus lowered his head and entered the General’s tent.

Inside candles provided the only illumination. Incense burned in a brazier set to the right of the entrance. The smoke hung oppressively in the air. To the left there was a bed with golden silk sheets. Red and gold carpets lined the floor.

An officer in gleaming silver armor was delivering his report:

“. . . from Lord Richton. He says the fleet has arrived at the mouth of the Xylo. He also says that the Bosmer have been curious, but no one objects to their presence. He wishes to know if he has leave to sack Torval.”

General Talos sat in the center of the tent in a high-backed chair of gold that looked suspiciously like a throne. “Send Lord Richton my compliments. Tell him to remain where he is, do not sail into Torval.” He spotted Arctus. “Arctus. Good of you to join us.” He turned back to the officer. “Thank you Captain Alorius, you are dismissed.”

“Sir.” Alorius saluted and left the tent.

“Forgive the incense,” said Talos, “It’s the only way to keep the smell at bay. Of course, after a while it starts to smell worse in here than outside.”

Arctus performed a salute. “General. The wind shifted as I rode in. With any luck the storm should hit us by nightfall.”

Talos laughed and pointed behind him. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”

Arctus had not seen the great Nord at the back of the tent. Ysmir sat with his legs crossed on cushions that were piled high around him. In his right hand he held a large hooka from which he suckled like a newborn. A thick plume of smoke escaped through the folds of his great shaggy beard and wafted in the air around him.

“This entire campaign is folly,” he said, “better we should invade Vvardenfell than waste our time swatting kittens.”

“Your hatred of the Tribunal has been noted,” said Talos, “you’ll have your revenge soon enough. Our priority now is to secure our southern border. I’ll not lose Cyrodiil on some fool’s errand to Morrowind.”

“Fool’s errand?” Ysmir stood and spat on the floor. The candles caused his shadow to fill the tent. “You try my patience, Stormcrown.” He pushed past Arctus and left the tent.

Talos exhaled. “At some point I’m going to have to show that man his place.”

“We still need him, General,” said Arctus, “his thu’um alone . . .”

Talos raised his hand, “I know, I know. He has his uses.”

The tent flap opened and Captain Alorius reentered the tent. The candle-light ran streaks through his silver armor.

“Begging pardons General, the harriers have returned.” He said.

Arctus took up position to the General’s right.

“Show them in, Captain.” Said Talos

Alorius saluted and left the tent, returning seconds later leading a group of four: A Bosmer wearing a fur cuirass and boots with a battered steel bow over his shoulder, a long-haired Colovian in leather armor with an iron mace hanging at his hip, and two Khajiit. The first was a slight male who wore braids that hung down to his shoulders and pulled at the skin of his scalp, giving his eyes a sleepy, half-focused quality. The second was a small child, wide-eyed and barefoot, clinging to the pant leg of his elder.

Alorius cleared his throat. “General may I present Ondereos, Flavius Livia, and Dar’Zhan.”

“Gentlemen,” said Talos, “I trust you’ve accomplished your missions.”

The Bosmer, Ondereos, stepped forward and lowered his head.

“General,” he said, “my men and I have scoured every sewer in the Imperial City. If there was a rat crawling we caught it.”

“Good.” Talos turned toward the Colovian.

“The tunnels were there just as Dar’Zhan said, sir,” said Flavius Livia. “We released the rats into the Khajiit camp without them ever seeing us.”

Dar’Zhan stepped forward. “Riverhold has closed their gates against the vermin. My clan-mates slew all of the livestock in the camp. The attack must be tonight, for they will not be able to resupply.”

“Excellent,” said Talos, “Captain, make sure you pay these men what was promised.”

“Yes Sir.” Alorius started to steer the group out of the tent.

“Who is the child?” asked Arctus.

“This is my son,” said Dar’Zhan, “he spread the rumors of the vermin in Riverhold.” He looked down at his son. “Come K’Sharra, it is time for us to go.”

This post has been edited by Destri Melarg: Apr 6 2010, 09:15 PM