Blood and Corruption, A Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

I kneeled before Emperor Pelagius, we all did. The year was 4E 575. He had come to greet the Imperial Legion’s soon-to-be soldiers in Morrowind. The Great Houses were back to their former power, thanks to Divayth Fyr’s work to restore it to what it was before Lie Rock hit.

The cities were gone, but some were rebuilt. We were going to Morrowind, to defend against the Argonians who were trying to take it again. I was one of the battle-mages to be going to Vvardenfell.

Pelagius stated, “You are the Empire’s Finest. The Marsh Knights as they call themselves try yet again to take Morrowind. Some of you will go to the Main Land to defend against their forces; others will go to Vvardenfell to keep order.”

“Listen up, soldiers,” Knight of the Dragon Trask Gro-Tralog barked. “Once we win this war and the Marsh Knights are captured, we’re all coming back here to Cyrodiil as war heroes.”

We all cheered and raised our blades with enthusiasm. About five-thousand of us stood in the streets of the Imperial City at the Palace District. We wore suits of Imperial-Steel Armor, while the officers wore suits of Templar Armor made from ebony, but painted to be gold.

After the Emperor left, my friend, Saraya smiled, “You looking forward to going to your homeland, you Ashen-Born son of a vampire?” Her smile revealed brilliant white teeth. She was an Imperial raised in Elsewyr, which made it strange her teeth were so clean due to all the sugar.

“Do khajiit smoke Skooma?” I asked rhetorically. Saraya smiled at me gently. We had known each other since we enlisted five years ago. She was my bunk mate and she was one in a million of friends.

“Kalarn,” she sighed with a grin. “You always mock Khajiits. Did one of those mean khajiits get your tongue when you were little?”

I simply chuckled, “Funny, now I need to go.” I walked away, wading through the streets of the Imperial City. Hundreds of people looked at me, some saluted, some scowled, and others paid no notice. I was a hero at least to some. The Marsh Knights hated all Dunmer.

The moon rose and the streets emptied. In an alley, I noticed a young Breton girl casting a spell and a Skooma pipe lighting up. A tear burned my eyes, another life lost to the drug.

Imperium Tong twenty-five years ago had a lot of it in the circulation, and then some Bosmer single-handedly took them out with the help of an Argonian and a khajiit. At least that’s what the history books said.

I found myself crawling to a tavern, it was warmly, quiet, and tranquil. The Tavern Keeper smiled. An aging imperial dressed in a blue shirt and black pants smiled. “Can I get a room?”

He nodded and as I pulled out my coin-purse, “Sorry, Soldier. Your money’s no good here. The bed is upstairs to the left, here’s the key.” I snatched the key and headed up the stairs to blissful sleep.

Tomorrow, Vvardenfell awaited me. Champion Kalarn Dralas of the Imperial Legion. Five years ago, I was just a recruit, but my outstanding duty has earned me a position right below the Knights.

My mind faded into the dream world. Vaermina’s realm...

[Zalphon]

Epilogue

Kalarn died in the Castle of the Black Soul. He was but one of the many casualties of the Orb. The Orb wiped Nirn nearly clean of life, due to the magical explosion of it. Those that survived were the last.

The Black Marsh’s swamps flooded the province, making it completely under the water. The few Argonians that survived tried to live there, but were forced to leave when the dreugh started attacking.

Morrowind’s jungles were even more rampant than before. Imperial forts and outposts were over-run by the plants. Some of the survivors said the plants were intelligent, as they watched vines take up surviving pilgrims into a place where they were never seen again.

Cyrodiil’s lush and beautiful forests were turned to desert with little water. Few could boast survival in the harsh climate. The Imperial City was in ruin, much like all cities, however the Imperial City’s iconic White-Gold Tower was destroyed.

Elswyr’s desert changed little. However the khajiit had to leave their ancestral home, because as they say, “the sands have been tainted.” Their homeland is rarely entered, because the sand is filled with dangerous predators and vicious cut-throats wander the desert, looking for their next victim.

Valenwood’s forests became jungles that survived a fate similar to that of Morrowind. The creatures became far more aggressive and would even attack the natives of Valenwood. Many Bosmer that survived called Valenwood, “The Land of the Deathly Plants.”

No one knows what became of Summerset Isles, because all contact was lost with them after the Orb exploded.

The Redguards of Hammerfell lost their honor and most of the survivors went mad or became marauders. Their new homeland had a giant fissure between the north and south sides. The north is called, “Orsimer”, the south is called, “Hammerfell”.

High Rock sunk low below the ocean, never to be heard of again.

Skyrim changed vastly. In the center of it, a huge fissure appeared, from north to south. The two peoples are vastly different on the West; they live in tribes, usually raiding other tribes. In the East, they live in the ruined cities of the old world. The West is called, “Hircine’s Moon”, the East is called, “New Skyrim.”

Nirn changed as a whole, from Tamriel to Akavir to Pyrondea… Nirn was changed forever…