Of Eagles and Dragons, The Children of Kyne, Vol. IV Options

[Kane]

Act I

Prologue (4E 230)
Emperor Titus Mede II is dead. Convicted of Treasonous Sedition against the Empire and a Vassal State, the Elder Council cast his Writ of Execution with a unanimous vote on Loredas, the 1st of Last Seed, in the Two-hundred thirtieth year of the Fourth Era. The High Chancellor Anilay Cato was chosen to oversee the day-to-day administration of the crumbling Mede Dynasty, and the former head of state himself was hung from the gallows on Green Empire Way in the Imperial City for all to see.

It was a time of uncertainty in Cyrodiil, for there was yet to be a clear successor to the Ruby Throne, and rumors of Colovian and Nibenese warlords arming up to seize power for themselves were beginning to circulate among the populace. Many citizens of the Heartland secretly wished the Dragonborn king of Skyrim would lay claim by birthright, but so far there had been little news from the northern kingdom.

And with a patience born of long life, the Thalmor diplomats were content to watch quietly from their Embassy while their handlers ruled the Third Aldmeri Dominion with an iron fist. Altmer agents moved about in the shadows to sow discord and discontent wherever possible and worked tirelessly to keep the Empire from once again rising to prominence.

-----

Queen Penolore of the Summerset Isles strolled through the botanical gardens of Alinor with her royal retainer in tow. The ultimate ruler of the Aldmeri Dominion, Penolore reigns supreme over the Altmer of her homeland, the Bosmer of Valenwood, and the Khajiiti of Elswyr with an unrelenting grip. The Thalmor operate solely under her command, bringing order to her subjects and extending her reach over the rest of Tamriel. But on this day, she felt only contempt for the ineptness of the organization’s recent failures in combating the rise of a new alliance of power to the north.

The shrill fops in her retainer had followed her from the palace, prattling on endlessly about matters far beneath her station in a constant bid to curry favor with the monarch. Seeking a measure of peace and quiet, she finally had enough of the bickering for one day. Penolore came to a halt and raised a hand in warning.

“Shut up. All of you will shut up now or I shall have you thrown from the highest tower of my palace. Begone from here if you value your meaningless existences.�

They fell silent in deference to their queen and filed out of the gardens as quickly as possible. Not a single one of them were keen to be present for her wrath should it need to be unleashed upon whichever poor soul tarried. Only a single Altmer remained, clad in the traditional dark robes of the Thalmor.

“Have you more to say, Lisotel? I would have thought your inability to carry out even a single assassination of those miserable whelps to the north would have stayed your sharp tongue. Tell me what value you could possibly still offer your queen when others have been flayed alive for failures of a far less magnitude than your own.�

“I only offer news that our agents deemed relevant, milady.�

“Very well. Spit it out and remove yourself from my sight.�

Magistrate Lisotel hesitated for the briefest of seconds. It would have to be today of all days that he was assigned to her retinue, and a message from Solitude should arrive to their headquarters by carrier eagle. Penolore was already in a foul temper after his Thalmor compatriots failed to squash another uprising in Anequina, and now he was poised to deliver more unwelcome news to the surly queen.

“It is with great regret that our field agents in Skyrim report the return of the High King’s son to the Blue Palace. He apparently was spotted in the city yesterday morning in the company of an unknown Breton woman. Where he had gone or what he was up to over the last thirteen months is still a mystery, but we fear his arrival and reintegration with the royal family will push the king to finally issue a claim to the Ruby Throne.�

The queen had stooped down to examine a budding rose stem while Lisotel spoke and she snipped it free cleanly from the stalk with her pruning shears as the words tumbled from the Magistrate’s overworked mouth. It slipped free of her grasp, fell to the floor, and Penolore ground it to a pulp with the heel of her boot.

“Tell me, Lisotel, have we not discussed the merits of tending to one’s garden on many previous occasions? See how easily that is done? Pruning an errant growth is a simple task that is abundantly important in maintaining a healthy growth; one of which I know your Order is easily capable of facilitating. I am granting you a second chance to do as I have ordered. Should you fail once again, the citizens of Alinor shall bear witness to your entrails displayed upon the ruins of Crystal-Like-Law. Return to me when the task is completed, and not one second sooner.�

Bowing his head graciously, Magistrate Lisotel took leave of the queen. Penolore continued to care for the overgrown rose shrub, snipping off stray stems with malicious intent.

-----

“What news from Chorrol, Brother Cassian?�

“High Chancellor,� greeted the courier. “Brother Indus’ scouts report little movement from the camps deep in the Great Forest. If they have anything planned, it will likely not be for some time. Indus suspects they are having trouble recruiting loyal men for the cause. Of course, this would all be a lot easier to verify if we are given leeway to operate more independently.�

Anilay Cato set down his quill and pushed aside the letter he’d been penning. This wasn’t the first time Cassian had made a similar remark, and the chancellor was beginning to grow weary of reminding the man just how delicate the situation in Cyrodiil really was. A stronger hand may be required soon.

“This again? We’ve been over it many times already, Brother Cassian. I’m giving you the most resources I can without drawing scrutiny from the elves. If they discover the Blades have secretly been reformed, the Dominion will bring war to our doorstep immediately. Do what you can with what I have given you and let’s not speak of this again. There are plenty of other men who would love to be in your position.�

Brother Cassian recognized his dismissal and saluted smartly as he turned to leave. Anilay continued to stare absentmindedly at the door long after it had closed behind his captain. He again found himself wondering if reforming the Blades had been a wise move on the council’s part. The endgame of the it made sense to all involved, but Anilay felt the interim risk was too high, and he’d unsuccessfully pushed to have the vote temporarily stayed.

“Too late now,� he said to no one in particular. And with a heavy sigh, he returned to his unfinished letter.

There was another knock on the door and it took all of his restraint to not fling the quill at it and berate whomever deigned to bother him again. “Come in!�

An elderly Breton woman with long gray hair tied back in a ponytail, poked her through the partially opened door and saluted. “Is this a bad time, sir?�
“No, no, come on in, Delphine,� said Anilay. “Forgive my exasperated tone, I just got done reminding Cassian of our straits and I fear that I shall never finish this correspondence.� He rolled up the parchment and set it aside until the next day. “What can I do for you?�

“I’d like to request something of you.� Delphine entered the study and took the recently vacated seat across from the High Chancellor. After she settled in, Anilay gestured for her to continue. “Might I be sent back north to Skyrim? I know the High King from our time together during the Dragon Crisis, and I may be able to get a better read on his intentions than some of our other agents have.�

“Oh, really? But as I understand it, your time working together did not end well, no? As I recall, he asserted his authority as Dragonborn over you and walked away from your efforts to rebuild the order. What makes you think he’ll let you into his court after all these years?�

Delphine frowned. She hadn’t expected Anilay to be so well versed on her prior dealings as a rogue Blade in Skyrim. Truth be told, her efforts to kickstart the Blades, along with Esbern, in Sky Haven Temple had crumbled to dust after Kirin Windborne had walked away from them. Further recruiting efforts failed, and the wizened lore-keeper succumbed to illness not five years later. For her part, Delphine had faded into obscurity as a farmhand in the western Reach.

“Heard about that, did you? Well, you’re right in that there’s no guarantee, but I don’t know what else I can offer the Blades, sir. I’m old and my days of fighting are long since passed. This at least feels like something meaningful I can contribute.�

“I see,� replied Anilay. “And would you be up for such a journey, Delphine? Autumn is settling in over Skyrim and our men at Cloud Ruler have reported the Pale Pass is already under several feet of snow. It will not be easy going.�

“I’ll manage.�

The High Chancellor studied her for a moment and then he grabbed a new roll of parchment and dipped his quill in fresh ink. He scribbled away while Delphine waited patiently for his decision, wondering where fate would take her next. She had been so hesitant when the rumors of former Blades officers being brought back into the fold were swirling, and it wasn’t until Brother Cassian himself had tracked her down to a small plantation near Karthwasten that she allowed herself to believe they were true. The reality didn’t truly set in for her until she was assigned a room at Weynon Priory, on the outskirts of Chorrol, and asked to advise the younger Captains leading this new iteration of the fabled organization.

Anilay finished writing his new orders, signed, and stamped the bottom with an Imperial Seal before wrapping it up and handing it to Delphine. “Deliver this to Brother Cassian and return to Cloud Ruler with him to begin your preparations.�

“Thank you, sir,� said Delphine. “I’ll keep in touch.�

“A bit of advice, if I may?�

“Sir?�

The chancellor dug around in his desk for few seconds until he found the dossier he was seeking. Flipping it open, Anilay slid out a sketching of Cain Windborne and handed it to the waiting Breton. “If the High King offers resistance, try speaking to his son. I’ve met the man personally and he’s wise, clever, and kind to a fault. Not to say that his father is an ignorant old man, but sometimes younger eyes see things differently. I’ve gathered that Cain is back home in Solitude after being abroad following the death of his fiancé.�

Delphine bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement. Everyone in Skyrim had heard about his loss, and people across the province had mourned for the young woman from Stonehills. There were even gossiping commoners in the taverns at night saying she had been pregnant at the time, but that was never officially confirmed by the High King’s court. If It were true, Delphine didn’t fault him at all for taking some time away, even if his whereabouts were a mystery.

“I’ll keep that in mind, sir.�

“Excellent. Take care on your trip, and dress warmly. I expect a letter by carrier bird as soon as you get settled in at Solitude. You’re dismissed, Delphine.�

Anilay watched her depart and then he glanced back over at his unfinished letter. Deciding it could wait until the morning, the chancellor left his office in search of a strong drink to end the day with. He wasn’t entirely convinced allowing Delphine to intrude on the High King’s court was a good idea, but he’d expected answers from Kirin Windborne for some time now, and was rewarded with nothing.

If another week passes like this I shall have to contact Cain myself. Perhaps the man would be willing to visit me in person.

The White-Gold Tower still bustled with activity in the evening hours, and so Anilay elected to don his commoner clothes and seek a drink at Luther Broad’s, instead.


This post has been edited by Kane: Jun 26 2025, 03:16 PM

[Kane]

Gwyn is not really cut out for this Nordic adventuring - especially in the winter! Linneá does a good job of trying to ease the way for the heavily bundled up little Breton. Gwyn knows a levitation spell! Too bad she doesn’t seem to know a ‘summon saddle’ or even a ‘summon pillow’ spell to help preclude sore netherbits. Arvak certain did speed up the duo’s trek though.

Quite the crawl down into Darkfall Cave. No sign of falmer yet, but hopefully Knight-Paladin Gelebor will be able to shed some helpful light on the mystery. And share the warmth of his fire.

Skyrim will make a Nord out of Gwyn yet! Well, that or she'll just reassert her Breton notions on the populace. Yes, that is probably more likely.

That was an excellent engagement party.
As a fellow curly-haired person I can relate to Gwyn trading her brush for a hood!

Gwyn’s journey went from freezing to freezing on a bone horse. Knight-Paladin Gelebor’s fire must be a welcome sight. I’m curious what he will have to say.

Little point in brushing for an adventure anyway! Gwyn probably looks forward to a bath more than anything right now. Well, almost anything.

0++[=======>

Act III

Interlude

“I am not interested in your excuses, nor do I wish to hear any more sniveling drivel. If you cannot conceive of a way to facilitate transportation of the Heart, then I will have you put to death. Is that what you would prefer? Is there another beneath your station who can do as your queen has ordered? Consider that before you return tomorrow. Get out of my sight!�

The attendant scuttled shamefully out of the room and Queen Penolore slammed shut the door to her chambers. She stalked moodily over to her window and gazed down at the now empty dig site surrounding what remained of Crystal-Like-Law. Victory lay so tantalizing close and yet every day brought further delays. It was maddening.

And now those frustratingly intuitive pretenders in the northlands were sniffing around the edges of their Skyrim operation, with the Dragonborn King already transitioning to the Ruby Throne. A throne that must be cast down if the Dominion were ever to achieve their ultimate victory.

“Perhaps Lisotel can achieve us a victory where these incompetent fools cannot,� she said to no one in particular.

With a sudden turn that billowed the hem of her royal robes, the queen swept away from the window to locate more of her attendants.

Lisotel must be encouraged to begin. We shall take this one step at a time. She froze in thought, a golden hand resting on the stained-glass door leading to the common room. I cannot believe I’ve come to rely so heavily on that oaf after everything else he bungled.

Queen Penolore continued on through the impressively delicate door and immediately became swarmed by the attendants she sought, with an aide bearing the robes of the Ministry of Transportation at the forefront, politely clamoring for her attention.

“Milady! We’ve done it! We know how to move the Heart into position!�

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the man’s eager claim. She’d never seen this mer before in her life, yet he would presume to address her directly? Were it not for an overwhelming desire to cast down her enemies, this minister would be hauled off to the deepest dungeons.

“Speak quickly or you shall not speak again,� she ordered.

The aide untied a bit of silver filigree from a scroll and presented it to her. Queen Penolore digested the scrawled message with increasing pleasure, her lips curling into a triumphant smirk and she dismissed all but the lone aide.

“See to this at once and you shall be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.�

-----

Snow fell lightly outside the window of High Chancellor Anilay Cato’s study atop the White-Gold Tower. Winter encroached steadily, each day bringing colder winds, and cloudy grey skies. Yet for the first time since Titus Mede II had been deposed, he breathed a sigh of relief. The Elder Council had chosen a date. Now, all that remained were preparations for an event not witnessed in nearly three hundred years, since the magickal day that Uriel Septim VII assumed the Ruby Throne.

The Fifteenth Day of Last Seed, in the Four-Hundred Thirtieth Year of the Fourth Era.

Coronation Day.

-----

“Throw her in there with the others.�

Rough hands forcefully gripped the old woman’s arms and tossed her bodily inside a ramshackle iron cage tucked away in the shadowy gloom of a decrepit Dwemer structure. She hit the ground and grunted painfully, years of training keeping her from crying out for the benefit of her captors. The guards moved away, leaving only a single tall being in dark robes and a hood to leer through the bars.

“I cannot hardly believe that after so many long years, it is I who will finally eliminate such a thorn in the Thalmor’s side,� Magistrate Lisotel grinned wickedly. “Penolore will be delighted to hear of your demise when I feed you to the Heart along with these other mindless beasts.�

The old woman said nothing as she sat up and leaned against the side of the cage. A gloating elf had not gotten the best of her in over fifty years, and this one would not be any different. She simply stared hostilely at him while her mind digested her new predicament and began to seek a way out of it.

“Nothing to say, you Breton whore? That’s just as well. I’ve enough headaches without listening to the self-righteous droning of a Blades agent. I’ll have the men bring you some water later. Or maybe I won’t. Your fate is sealed either way.�

Lisotel left to oversee more important aspects of his operation leaving the prisoner to her own devices. The near-total darkness of her cell offered little for the eye to see, so she cast a faint light spell and recoiled slightly at the sight of a prone form in the corner. Layers of thick grime made it hard to guess an age, but she reasoned the Nord had to be at least fifty due solely to the streaks of grey in his long blonde beard.

His chest rose and fell slowly. And then he awoke.

“Who ‘re you?� he rasped. “When did they throw you in ‘ere?�

“Just now,� said the woman. “My name is Delphine.�

“Retnarr.�

“Any idea what’s in store for us, Retnarr?�

“Aye. And ya aren’t gonn’ like it. May’s well pray to the Nine now, oldun. Pretty soon youse and I will be up and vanished like the rest ‘o the beasts they drag through ‘ere.�

Delphine was about to ask him what he meant by that when clink of rattling chains and the dull thud of innumerable footsteps slowly resonated more and more loudly off the walls surrounding their cage. She extinguished her light lest the approaching guards take exception to it, and she peered anxiously through the bars.

Thalmor soldiers in their ornate golden armor emblazoned with the regalia of eagles led a line of stunted figures through the gloom. Delphine couldn’t make out what they were yet, but she did pick out the pointed ears against the light of torches held by the guards. Closer and closer they came until the long line of captives passed by the cell, and she raised a hand to cover her mouth in shock.

Goblins, Reiklings, and, most prominently, Falmer were all chained together in a line stretching off into the black. Shackles bound their feet and hands, and those creatures that were not already blind had their eyes covered with crude burlap hoods that were scarcely breathable.

“By the Eight!� breathed Delphine.

Her mind reeled at the implications of what she witnessed. She had to get word out somehow. But out of where? She’d been rendered unconscious from a blow to the back of her neck while exploring Duskglow Crevice with her detachment of guards and had little idea where here was. And where had they gone?

All dead, likely, she thought to herself. Maybe the Nord knows where we are…

“Alright, listen up, Retnarr. We need to do something about this. Tell me everything you know about where we are and how we got here.�

The disgruntled man snorted at first, but then he saw the commanding light in her eye and felt a sliver of hope for the first time in many long months.

He told her what he knew. And Delphine felt the icy grip of despair clinging to her heart.