Cyrodiil Options

[Alexander]

Traveling to Ebonheart had felt unusual to Ocato. He was used to teleporting spells, but being able to teleport anywhere, anytime, without the use of a mark and recall combination, divine intervention or one of the other commonly used spells felt strange to even him. If Jauffre and Steffan felt the same they certainly did not show it. They looked as confident as ever.

Ocato had only been to Ebonheart once, but he recognized the council chambers there from his last visit. From what he was told by Jauffre, the chambers were hardly ever used now. Most of the meetings were held either at Mournhold, or in a great house stronghold somewhere.

Thinking back to a while ago, if he had to be honest with himself, he was happy rather than disappointed to formally recognize Morrowind as a separate nation. While his every instinct was aimed at keeping the Empire together, he also realized conquering Morrowind at this time, when the Great Houses could be united as easily as Lord Nerevar had shown in the last war, and where Wizards as powerful as Lord Nerevar, Divayth Fyr and reportedly Reynel Uvirith took a personal hand in everything that mattered to the province, would do more damage to the Empire than good. Even if they succeeded, which Ocato did not think likely, the cost would be stupendous. No, an alliance with such powerful people was a far better option…… for now.

Walking behind Lord Nerevar he asked; “What can you tell us about the Jester, Lord Nerevar?”

“Not much to be honest; like I said, he’s not too bright. He washed ashore one day a few years back without even a stitch of clothing on his body, and no shipwreck in sight. The Argonian mission found him and nursed him back to health. Afterwards, knowing he could not stay there, they asked me if I had work for him. He seemed to enjoy juggling and other acrobatic stunts, so I made him a Jester. Considering his lack of intelligence I thought it was the best and most harmless place for him.”

And one of convenience for you later on, Ocato thought. Lord Nerevar stopped in front of a door in a lower level of the Ebonheart council hall, and knocked. A bumbling sound inside told them the occupant of the room was in.
“Eh- e- enter.” A voice hesitantly sounded.

Opening the door, Lord Nerevar walked inside. As he stood to the side of the door Ocato first looked at the Jester. He was a spitting image of the Jester from his dream, only where the dream Jester had had a look of intelligence on him, this one did not. When Lord Nerevar had called him not too bright, it had been a serious understatement.

Lord Nerevar must have caught his thoughts from his face for he turned to the Jester and asked; “Jester, what can you tell us about yourself before you came to Ebonheart?”

“Be- b- before? I’s always been here, you’s knows this.”

“You don’t remember anything from before you came to Ebonheart?”

“There’s nothing before.”

Turning to Ocato, Lord Nerevar spoke; “Something isn’t right here. There has to be something we’re missing. What was it Talos said to you in your dream again, Ocato?”

“He said: ’In naming him, he will know himself” but do you think that means something, Lord Nerevar?”

“Hm, in naming him, he will know himself. Hm. What if, before sending him here, and to protect him from those who would do him harm, Talos wiped this young man’s memory? It would explain why I never caught up to the fact that he’s more than he appears to be. Come to think of it though, I never really did bother to look into it further, never even went through the trouble of having people ask around, see if someone might have known something. I guess that was a little subconscious suggestion from Talos.”

“So you think that by calling him by his name we could restore his memory? But if he washed ashore no one knows his name. What if it’s not his name, what if it’s something else?”

“A good point, Ocato, naming him; why do I assume naming him means calling him by his name? It could just as well mean naming him Emperor.” Turning around, Lord Nerevar bowed before the Jester who throughout all this had been looking at them with big eyes filled with curiosity, and spoke “Your highness.” Nothing happened, “My emperor,” still nothing.

Ocato thought about this and then had to laugh. “I’m sorry for laughing Lord Nerevar, but haven’t we just established the fact that both Morrowind and yourself, no longer belong to the Empire? He wouldn’t really be your Emperor then, would he?”

“Ha, you have me there, Ocato,” Lord Nerevar replied with a smile. He got up and moved away from the door further into the room. Chancellor Ocato took his place, and went to one knee, bowed his head and spoke the same words Lord Nerevar had started with; “Your highness.”

A broad beam of white light broke through the solid ceiling and enveloped the Jester. Slowly, a change seemed to come over him; intelligence seemed to dawn in his eyes. The beam disappeared and the Jester slumped down into a chair. He lifted his head and looked at Ocato kneeling before him. “You must be Chancellor Ocato. Wulf told me you would come for me.”

Chancellor Ocato looked from the face of the Jester to Lord Nerevar and back, and smiled. Lord Nerevar smiled as well. Wulf had done it to them again. No matter how clever and powerful they ever were, Wulf, no, Talos, would always be one step ahead of them.

[Alexander]

Chapter 11. More puzzles.

Early the next morning, after Baurus had eaten the food that had been left in front of his door, he decided to have a look around the Tel. In the main hall , while he was skimming through a very rare book, one of the volumes of the Wolf Queen, he heard someone say behind him;

“Nice copy isn’t it?“

Startled, he spun around to see Reynel Uvirith standing there. Taking the book from him, she turned back to one of the first pages, “Look, do you see the dates in the book? This is one of the oldest copies of the story still surviving . I brought the set back with me after I’d gone to Akavir to study magic there. They were some of the things that were left behind after the disastrous attempt by Emperor Uriel V to add parts or all of Akavir to the empire.”

Baurus was impressed; he assumed the only places that might have older copies than this would be the Temple of the Ancestor Moths and perhaps the Imperial Library, high in the palace in the Imperial city.

“Lady Reynel, I’m sorry, but I’ve been wondering something. How is it that the Archmagister of House Telvanni, someone with such an exalted position, has the time to wander around the Molag Amur region with me? I mean he must be overwhelmed with work, right? Whenever I look at Chancellor Ocato, or even Grandmaster Jauffre, they’re always drowning in work.”

Baurus couldn’t have been more surprised as Reynel shook with laughter. “My dear young man, you obviously don’t know much about the Telvanni, do you?” she said with a smile. “Let me explain.”

“After the war, the Telvanni claimed all the lands they had conquered, which actually isn’t much. We hold claim to the entire Molag Amur region, the Red Mountain region, the north of the Ashlands region,. and everything east of there. We also now hold Suran and Dagon Fel. Telvanni have never needed a government in the conventional sense of the word. Whenever a Telvanni reaches the rank of Wizard, he receives his Tel, and often a city around it. The wizard rules that Tel anyway he or she sees fit. Few Telvanni would even consider telling another Telvanni what to do in their own territory. Relien is very content to let that practice go on as it has been for many thousands of years now. It’s worked for so long, and he sees no reason to change it. All the councilors of the house get together maybe once a year, and have a meeting. However, hardly anything ever comes up and the rest of the time we all rule as we have ruled for centuries, and some of us for millennia. Other than a few ground rules, like the prohibition against slavery and the prohibition against one old practice- killing each other to get ahead, Relien lets us do as we please. And to be honest, as for that practice of killing each other off, we’re all in favor of seeing it abolished. If nothing else, it lets us sleep better at night.”

Baurus considered that. “But what about the other Houses; surely disputes arise between Houses and such.”

“Sometimes they do, yes, but few of them involve House Telvanni. After the war, every other House is content to just let us be. And most of the other disputes are solved by Lady Barenziah. She rules once again from Mournhold, only now the people protecting her are not Hlaalu, but a combination of guards from four Houses. Everyone listens to her and abides by her judgment, usually because she makes sound judgments but also because everyone knows she has Relien and others like him to call upon should someone not abide by her rulings.”

In any other province, Baurus assumed, such an extreme segregation of factions could only have resulted in chaos, but apparently for Morrowind it worked perfectly. Baurus was just about to say something to Reynel, but her eyes seemed distant, as if she was hearing something, though Baurus was sure he heard nothing.

“Ah, Relien is back. He’ll join us momentarily. Shall we go on ahead to the dining room, Baurus?”

Without realizing it, they had talked through most of the afternoon, or rather Baurus had mostly listened. Following Reynel, they made their way to a smaller room. Already seated at the table was Relien. “Well Baurus, I just spoke to Jauffre and Steffan. They send their regards. Apparently quite a bit has been going on in Cyrodiil while you’ve been away.”

During the rest of the dinner Relien filled Baurus in about everything that had happened in Cyrodiil. As the last plates were being taken away by servants, Relien spoke again;

Now then, when I was in Mournhold, I spoke with Lady Barenziah and another old friend, about Varvur. During the war, Raxle Berne was killed. Without a doubt. If he did have a way into Oblivion, I fear it’s lost along with him.”

“However, while we were discussing things, Lady Barenziah had an idea. Since our problem is dealing with a Daedra prince, why not ask another Daedra prince for a solution? Or a princess in this case. We believe the best thing to do right now is to travel to Azura’s shrine and appeal for guidance. I’ve had many dealings with Azura in the past, and I believe it is once again our best hope for success.”

“So tomorrow morning we shall travel to Azura’s shrine. Make sure you’re well rested.”

[Alexander]

Early the next morning, Baurus found Relien as he was getting ready. He didn’t carry a staff as he had carried when posing as an old man, but instead he had a blade strapped on. “Ah, ready Baurus? I assume you’ve eaten already?”

When Baurus answered he was and he had, Relien asked him to come stand next to him. Baurus suddenly felt an odd sensation in his stomach, and saw a bright light blinding him. He closed his eyes. The feeling lasted little more then a few minutes, and then ebbed away. He slowly opened his eyes again and found himself a long way away from where he had been before. Looking up, he saw the face of the Daedric prince Azura on what had to be the largest statue of her he had ever seen.

Behind the statue though, he caught a glimpse of a creature unlike any he’d ever seen before. It was covered with thick fur and seemed to be more at home in some snow covered area then in Morrowind. Before Baurus could even shout out, one of the creatures had attacked Relien and bit him in the leg.

Apparently more annoyed then hurt, Relien shook off the creature and cast a lightning bolt at it and it’s companion who had been trying to get close to Baurus. Both of the creatures disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Have you ever seen it’s like before Baurus?

“Never, nor have I heard mention of it anywhere.”

“I thought so.” Relien seemed in thought for a moment, but apparently dismissed whatever he was considering shortly as he looked up and started moving towards the statue.

He put his hand on it and spoke; “Lady Azura, hear our plight, please come to us in our hour of need and help our cause as you’ve helped in the past. Lady Azura, your Nerevarine has need of you.”

What Baurus heard next he could only describe as a voice seemingly sounding inside him. “Nerevarine, Hortator, why has thou summoned me?”

“Lady Azura, a friend has been taken into Oblivion by Mehrunes Dagon. Can you help us get him out?”

“Nay Nerevarine, that I cannot. Martin’s transformation has closed shut the gates to Oblivion, and I may not break what he hath created.”

Baurus felt a wave of despair. Was this it then? If even a Daedric prince as powerful as Azura could not help them, who could?
“Nerevarine, beware. As we speak, evil is once again closing in on the Empire, and Morrowind with it, for will ye or nil ye, Morrowind shall be linked with the Empire in the coming crisis. Should one fall, then so shall the other.”

“What can we do to stop this, Lady Azura?” Relien asked.

“It is imperative that you find entry into Oblivion, for only there shall thy true enemy reveal itself.”

“Hear my words now. One can help you, one can grant you entry into Oblivion, but for restrictions placed even on myself, I can not name the one. Instead I say this: in years past, a great mind of your world once said; ’The only difference between Genius and Insanity, is that genius has its limits.’ Hearken to my words, but pray, do not take them too literally. This is all I can do to aid your cause. Good luck.”

Baurus looked at Relien, and Relien looked back. Both men were surprised by Azura’s warning, and puzzled by her riddle.

[Alexander]

Chapter 12. Betrayal.

Chancellor Ocato, Grandmaster of the Blades Jauffre, Captain of the Blades Steffan and Emperor to be, Dilbor Septim, previously known as Dilbor Mornard; were traveling back to Cyrodiil in the company of two dozen of the finest Redoran elite warriors. The last thing Lord Nerevar had done before he had to leave them was arrange for this escort. He personally vouched for all of them, so Ocato found himself traveling easy.

His first impression of the Emperor to be was that he was a very serious, intelligent young man, though he had a very colorful background. Apparently he had been a rising star in the Thieves guild of Cyrodiil. He had already made it to Shadowfoot, second highest rank in the guild, and was charged with leading the local Kvatch contingent of the guild. From what Ocato learned, he gathered he might even have been the person who had given Jauffre and him quite a scare several years previous.

They had, through meticulous work, finally found who they believed could very well be the successor to the Grey Fox. He was a cat burglar back then, and active in Bruma. They continued to follow him and, judging by the story Dilbor told, he was the one. They registered him becoming Shadowfoot, and achieve increasingly difficult thefts. They were certain he had been able to steal a precious artifact from the ancestor moth priests and were almost entirely certain it had been him that had been behind the theft of one of the Elder Scrolls, though officially no Elder Scroll had been stolen of course.

If the assumptions were right, then he was the man who had delivered the Elder Scroll into the hands of Corvus Umbranox, allowing him to cast aside his Grey Fox persona and return to his wife. But then all of a sudden, about a year before Kvatch was destroyed by Daedra and only days after the Grey Fox had once again become Corvus Umbranox, the man they had been following vanished. They always assumed somehow someone had found the tail they put on him, but apparently there was a different reason.

“Sir,” one of the Redoran guards called to Ocato, “Look ahead.” Looking ahead, Ocato saw a large band of riders closing fast. Good, he thought to himself; Evangeline has sent an escort. Turning to the lead Redoran, a nobleman himself from what he understood, “Balen Sarethi, I thank you for your trouble. I believe my guards will be able to manage the rest of the way.”

“Ah, Chancellor, I wish not to be disrespectful with this question, but is it often the practice for you to send an all-Argonian contingent?”

Looking back to the approaching horsemen Ocato found Balen was right. He used a spell of farsight to double check it, and he found the group in front of him was indeed all Argonian, not only that, two other groups of Argonian riders were approaching from both flanks.

“To arms!” Ocato shouted, then turning to Balen quickly explained; “Those are not my men; we believe them to be mercenaries, and seeing them here I can think of nothing but that they know we have the Emperor, and they wish him harm.”

“Then first they will have to come through me and my men,” came the reply. Balen quickly shouted orders to the other Redoran; one of them hurried away back to Morrowind, which was still in sight, while all the others dismounted, sent the horses away and got into formation.

The whole group formed a circle around Jauffre, Steffan and Ocato who in turn formed a circle around Dilbor.

The brave Redoran beat their swords against their shields as if daring the Argonians to come. Such a determined group of people was likely not what the mercenaries were used to facing, for they halted shortly before connecting with any of the defenders, and what Ocato assumed was their leader spoke;

“One greets the one in charge here.” Balen replied, obviously not wanting to give away Ocato and the others as more important, “Be gone with you, fetcher; you have no business here.”

“One does, one surely does. The rest of you need not die though; all we come for is the one called Jester. One and his will leave the others alive.”

Balen turned to face the other Redoran, “What say you boys, give up our charge or fight these N’wahs?” “Fight! Fight! Fight!” came the reply as one voice.

“Kill them all!” came the command from the Argonian. And the battle was on.

The Argonians tried to crush the Redoran, but many of the Morrowind fighters had long swords that could easily cut in underneath an Argonians cover, or bow and arrow with which they shot them from their horses. Still though, they were outnumbered at least seven to one. Ocato used a calculating look to assess the situation; whenever he saw an opening he sent through a spell taking down one or several Argonians. He also used his limited healing abilities to help the Redoran where he could. Despite all their effort and heart though, slowly but surely the Redoran were falling. Here one was lying with a sword still sticking out of him, trying to use his dying breath to pierce the underside of a horse. There a Redoran warrior was attacked by three mounted Argonians, while one dismounted and came unseen from the side and stabbed him.

Ocato realized the battle was going wrong. They could not win; during the past few minutes he’d already found several Argonians facing him, where gaps had appeared in the outer circle of Redorans. Still though, everyone fought with unbelievable courage. A moment ago he had seen Balen go down, but a bit later he was up again and battling two Argonians; his face was bloody and Ocato realized the blood was mostly Balen’s.

[Olen]

This is excellent, but the cliffhanger. I need to know more now (and not just on this story line, they're all intreaging). It also comes at a fair old rate which is great.

No criticisms just now.

[Alexander]

At an unseen sign there came a lull in the battle as the Argonians withdrew a bit to confer with their leader. Ocato estimated their losses had been as high as 40%; he also knew, looking at the few Redoran warriors that remained, none of them unhurt, that it would not be enough. They had held bravely, but at the next attack he knew they would surely be swarmed under.

A flash caught his attention, and when the flash vanished, two Redoran troops he could have sworn were not there before were standing. Another flash and this time three Redoran appeared. Several more flashes and even more Redoran appeared; these were mounted even. Ocato turned to Balen who, with a bloody grin, explained; “The man I sent back carried a bag of recall amulets all linked with this,” he held up his hand showing a sparkling ring. “A gift from Lord Nerevar to our Archmaster. They prove invaluable for just such an occasion, and need no mages to set or cast a spell.”

All around him now, more and more men, both mounted and dismounted, appeared. Balen started shouting again, and everyone who was there quickly formed a battle line, not a defensive circle this time, but shaped like an arrow. “Get Ready…. Charge!”

The Redoran attacked the Argonians with full force, and within minutes it became clear the Argonians were greatly outmatched by this Redoran force of equal numbers. First one, then a second, turned and rode away, then all the remaining Argonians were riding fast and as far away as possible.

The Redoran chased them a short way, but quickly came back realizing the important task was keeping the Emperor safe, rather than killing all the Argonians.

The backup Redoran had also thought to bring as many restore health potions as they could, so that every Redoran who still lived was soon back on his feet.

“I must admit Chancellor, when we left Kragenmoor, I arranged for a larger force of warriors to stand ready just over the border into Morrowind, you know, just to be safe.”

“A wise precaution, Lord Balen. I can only assume the messenger I sent ahead out from Mournhold was intercepted by the Argonians, or whomever they’re working for.”

“Have you any idea for whom they’re working, Chancellor?”

“I have some idea, but no proof yet unfortunately.”

“That may be about to change; my men have found one Argonian still alive. From his markings he was second in command. He should be able to answer a few questions.”

“Thank you Lord Balen, and I hate to ask this, but it seems unlikely that we’ll get that escort, nor am I sure I entirely trust them even should they come.”

“No need to ask Chancellor; I promised Lord Nerevar to aid you in whatever way I could, even if that means besieging the Imperial Palace. My men and I are at your disposal until you tell me otherwise.”

“Thank you. I suggest we ride to Cheydinhal first, drop off our prisoner and add some of the Count’s men to our escort, and then ride on. I have a feeling we’re going to need all the men we can get before long. Actually, you might know the Count of Cheydinhal; he’s a Dunmer like yourself, and was once a nobleman in Morrowind, as well, I hear.”

“Yes, a Hlaalu. But then nobody’s perfect, right?

[Alexander]

Chapter 13

The journey to Bruma had been uneventful, a few wolves and later even some trolls apparently objected to her passing through their areas, but it was nothing a good Chameleon spell couldn’t fix.

After stabling her horse at the Wildeye stables, Filben wasted no time in making her way to the Mages guild chapter there. As she neared it though, she sensed something was wrong. It was strangely quiet on the streets, and there were few sounds coming from inside.

Opening the door she soon learned the reason for it; the Mages guild looked like a powerful fire spell had just gone off. Stacks of books and cabinets were burning, and the floor was riddled with bodies. Some were the mages she had met when she completed the recommendation quest here, but most were undead. skeletons, zombies and the remains of wraiths were scattered throughout the place.

Walking through the guild house, she found several zombies were still animate, but she quickly solved that. Upstairs she encountered one Necromancer still alive, but before Filben even had time to cast a silence spell on her or try to capture her, the Necromancer cast a silence spell of her own on Filben and came after her. It was a desperate swing from her staff that brought the Necromancer down.

Nearly at the same time as she killed the Necromancer, behind her a new sound could be heard. It was that of a Khajiit whimpering in fear. Looking behind her, Filben saw the source of the sound; J’skar. Apparently he had pulled the same trick as he did during her recommendation quest. Only this time no one discovered him.

“J’skar, what happened here?”

“It was awful, he was here, actually here standing in this very room.”

“Who was J’skar? Who did this to them?”

“This morning we were disturbed by noises coming from the basement. We don’t know how but a large gang of undead- zombies, skeletons and the like- had found their way into the basement. They attacked us. At first we were able to fend them off, but then from the attic Necromancers came pouring down. And then he came. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“But who, who lead them?”

“It was the King of Worms himself leading them, Mannimarco. I couldn’t believe my eyes, I think the only reason I’m alive was because I was invisible… but even so, I think he saw me. He killed them one by one, Volanaro was last. I think he was trying to run away, but he didn’t make it did he?”

“No, it doesn’t look like he did.”

“I can still picture it. The King of Worms stood over him, right before he died and he… well, it looked like he sucked out Volanaro’s soul. He said something about a meeting at Kvatch, and destroying the Mages Guild. Then he looked right at me and grinned. You’ve got to do something; you’ve got to tell Arch-Mage Traven!”

“I will; I’ll leave for the Imperial city at once. Will you be able to manage here?”

“I’ll hire people to clean all this up, but then I’m coming to the Imperial City as well. I think the Arch-Mage is the only one who can protect me.”

“Good luck, J’skar.”

J’skar stopped her just before she went downstairs, “Filben, there is one more thing; I saw someone I know with Mannimarco. Caranya was there.”

“You mean she tried to fight Mannimarco?”

“No, she led the Necromancers until Mannimarco took over for her.”

So one of the two missing Master-Wizards was a necromancer. And Filben had to wonder- would the other prove to be one as well?



The Arch-Mage was understandably upset at the news; an entire chapter destroyed just like that, and Caranya a traitor.

“How could I have not seen this? I must be going blind to miss it. And now Filben, we also know who betrayed Mucianus; I did. If I hadn’t named him that day at the meeting he might still be alive and able to give us vital information regarding the Necromancers.”

“But Caranya being a traitor is nothing compared to the news that the King of Worms has returned. This is grave indeed.” He seemed to consider something for a moment. “Filben, I’m sorry it comes in such dire circumstances, but I wish to promote you to Wizard. I also have a new assignment for you, but it will likely be the most dangerous assignment you’ve ever been on. I want you to travel to Kvatch and spy on this meeting between the King of Worms and his minions. Perhaps from the meeting we’ll be able to gather vital information on what his plans are and what we can do to stop him.”

“I understand your concerns Arch-Mage, but I accept the task. I will do what I can.”

[Alexander]

The only stop Filben made on her journey to Kvatch was at Skingrad, where she sought out Count Hassildor and told him all that had transpired. She knew it would be important for as many people to know about this as possible, so that everyone could be vigilant. At last though she came to the foot of the mountain upon which Kvatch was built. The first thing she noticed was the refugee camp; it had been erected during the Oblivion crisis, but it was now still there.

Walking up to the first man she saw, an Imperial, she asked, “Excuse me sir, why are you still here? Has your home not been restored by now?”

“We are all doomed. Kvatch is lost and so is the Empire. Mehrunes Dagon will feed us to his Dremora. We are all now in Oblivion.”

The man kept going on, until a Redguard came up to him and gently escorted the Imperial into one of the tents. He motioned to Filben to wait and came back after the man had likely been put to bed. “You must excuse him, milady. His name is Ilav Dralgoner; he was a priest at the chapel before the Oblivion crisis, but even after the city was saved he’s never really been the same again. My name is Boldon; how may I serve you?”

“Boldon, my name is Filben, and I was wondering why you are all still out here. Haven’t the roads and houses been cleared in the city yet?”

“Filben, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And no, very few houses have been restored so far. The new steward of the city, Mercator, came to us right after he arrived, and assured us that all we need to do is sit tight, and the city will soon be restored. He say that he’s bringing in all sorts of workers, and that he’s doing everything in his power to rebuild the city.”

“I take it you don’t believe him, Boldon?”

“My apologies, but no. Some of the others have gone into the city a few times to see if they could find some belongings, but each time they went in they saw no one working. In fact, they saw no one at all during the day. But then each night we hear strange and eerie sounds coming from the city, seemingly concentrated around the palace and the old arena. It sounds like chanting and strange grunts and moans. None of us know what they do, but we are certain they don’t rebuild the city.”

“We’ve brought our concerns before Steward Mercator, but he waves them away and assures us they’re doing their utmost. Some of us wanted to go east to complain to Count Hassildor about it, but those that went never returned. Nor has any word from Count Hassildor reached us.”

“I don’t believe the Count knows about it. I saw him just the other day and I’m sure he would have mentioned something like this if he had heard about it. When next I see him, I’ll personally convey your message.”

“Thank you Filben, thank you so much.”

Getting into the city proved easier than Filben had expected; there were no guards posted at the gates, nor any patrolling guards that she noticed inside. She was unsure where to go to, but from what Boldon had told her, her best chance at getting information was to go to one of the two reported sites of the chanting- the arena or the castle. She thought it more likely that the higher ranking Necromancers would be at the castle, so she made her way there.

Before she came into view of the castle, though she suddenly ducked behind some rubble. She had a heard a familiar voice. Slowly peering over the rubble she saw a group of three people walk across the square outside the palace and head towards it. Caranya was one of the people. Filben only caught a scrap of the conversation, but it sounded like “ritual and summon him.”

Who were they going to summon? Probably Mannimarco, and that surely would be something the Arch-mage would want to know about. Casting a powerful invisibility spell, Filben followed the three as close as she dared, doing her best to remain quiet.

After the group, with her in tow, had made it across the drawbridge, to Filben’s shock the drawbridge was raised. Now she had no way of getting out should she need to in a hurry. But if she was shocked at that, what she saw next in the courtyard of the castle shocked her more than anything. She had to put her hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Staked out on the ground was the body of Irlav Jarol. She only recognized him because his face was intact; the rest of him though was an awful sight to behold. It appeared as if someone had scraped off all of the skin from his body, and by the look on his dead face, part of it had happened while he was still alive.

The three people Filben had followed had surrounded the corpse, and now Caranya reached down and picked something up; she couldn’t see what it was but Filben was sure she was better off not seeing. Words started to reach her, “in the name of Mannimarco, the King of Worms, we dedicate this body to his service.”

“Mannimarco, King of Kings, ruler of the dead, please come to us, we are ready for you.”

Filben felt more than saw at first the change that seemed to come over the place. The sky slowly darkened as if a thunderstorm was coming, and the air felt heavy with ill omen.

A ways above the three cultists, an apparition suddenly appeared in the sky, with the face of an Altmer, a long, narrow face with the high forehead and cheekbones on that race, but most striking were the eyes; they bespoke a timelessness one but rarely sees. Worse still was the sound when the phantasm spoke:

“How go things? Are we nearing the completion of our plans?”

“Yes Dread lord; within a week we should be ready to summon an army of dead to conquer, first the province, and then the Empire.”

“Good. You have done well. The fool Ocato and his puppets are still concerned for their precious heir, and when they worry not about that, Countess Valga, that fool, has them running in circles. My agents tell me Valga the fool is getting more deranged by the day. The Divines wouldn’t even cure her of an illness now, but so long as she thinks she is their vessel, she does our work without even knowing it.”

Now the apparition turned its gaze directly upon one of the figures below:

“Falcar.”

“Yes Dread lord.”

“Have you completed your mission?”

“Yes lord; I’ve found the artifact you mentioned, and keep it with me at all times.”

“Good. Make sure no one besides you three will ever know what you have, nor that you have it. It is the only thing those fools can use against me. It must never fall into their hands!”

“I will protect it with my life, Dread lord.”

“Yes, you will Falcar,” came the chilling answer. It obviously made even Falcar shudder in fear.

“I remain at Echo Cave for now. Send word there when all preparations have been made.”

Filben didn’t know what it was that Falcar held, but she knew it would be vital to get it to the Arch-Mage.

She waited until she was sure both the apparition and the three Necromancers had left the courtyard and gone into the castle, before she looked around the wall. Seeing the courtyard was indeed empty, she made her way across it and into the castle. Sneaking around in there, she soon found the sleeping areas. At least the Necromancers seemed to have put some effort into cleaning up the inside of the palace, even if they had done nothing to the rest of the city.

Slowly she crept up to the bed in which she saw Falcar was sleeping, and was happy to see he had hung his robe over a chair. Going through the pockets, the only thing Filben found that seemed out of place was an unusually large black soulgem. She held it close to see if she could see something out of the ordinary inside it but a noise spun her around. Caranya was standing at the exit with an evil smile on her face.

“You didn’t really think a simply invisibility spell could hide you from the master, did you?”

Behind Caranya, Filben saw another man approach, likely Mercator, and Falcar himself was rising up from the bed, obviously wide awake though Filben didn’t think he had been asleep in the first place.

“Caranya, why side with Mannimarco? You know he’s evil, don’t you?”

“Of course I do Filben. Don’t you get it; I’m evil too.” If possible, the evil smile just got wider. “Now then Falcar, fire.”

Two spells came at Filben at once, two nasty combinations of shock damage and weakness to shock. Filben’s body shook from the shock, suspended for a moment in the air, and then she crashed down. She could barely feel her limbs, let alone move them, but found the Black soulgem was still clutched in her hand. Barely able to move her lips, out of desperation she spoke the words of a recall spell. One other reason she had had for visiting Skingrad before she came here was so she could cast a mark spell there.

As her body was teleported away from Kvatch, she could hear the shouts of Falcar and the others for someone to stop her, but it was too late. The next thing she knew she was lying on the cold stones of the Castle Skingrad great hall, and Janus was leaning over her, speaking words of comfort.

Filben knew she did not have much time left; no one could take two spells of such magnitude and live long to tell the tale, and by the time a priest or mages guild healer could be summoned, she would be long gone. With her last remaining strength she told Janus to be silent and told him all that she had learned in Kvatch, making sure he promised he would travel to the Imperial City with all haste and deliver the information unto the Arch-Mage.

Then the pain became too great, and darkness closed in on Filben.

[Alexander]

Chapter 14. Dealing with Daedra

Baurus was pacing up and down the library hall. Shortly after Relien and he had come back to Tel Uvirith, they and Reynel had locked themselves in the great library and forbidden everyone else entry.

“ ‘The only difference between Genius and Insanity, is that Genius has its limits.’ Genius has its limits, what limits could she be speaking of?” It was the same question they had been asking themselves and each other for hours now. What limits are there to Genius? None had the answer.

“But then, did she not also say we should not take that too literally? But then which part should we not take too literally? What she said about genius, what she said about insanity, what she said about limits or the lack thereof?” Baurus found it maddening. While he enjoyed reading a good book, and knew quite a bit about the history of the empire, he had never thought of himself as a great thinker. He was baffled by the riddle. So, apparently, were both Reynel and Relien. Relien had gone to look through books trying to find the answer, and Relien just sat there, staring at nothing.

“Ok, let’s look at this from a different perspective for a moment.” Reynel closed the book she was looking in and Baurus likewise looked up at Relien. “Azura told us not to take her words too literally. But she did not say which part not to take too literally. Let’s just for the sake of argument say it’s only a part we should not take too literally. The difference between Genius and Insanity, implies a discrepancy. When you look at both words, Genius and Insanity, you could say they’re opposites in a way. Not taking it literally, does that mean we could replace one of the two words? We could replace insanity with the direct opposite of Genius, which would be stupidity, or retardation, if you will. But does that bring us closer to the answer? No, I think that still makes it as cryptic as ever.”

“But what if we replace Insanity? What’s the opposite of Insanity? Sanity. Someone being sane, or someone being mad. If we look at the entire thing, Azura said; ’The only difference between sanity and insanity, is that sanity has it’s limits.’ Wouldn’t that imply insanity has no limits, or rather insanity is not subject to the limits sane people are subject to? Isn’t that then answer? Sane beings, be they kings, magicians, or even gods, cannot cross the boundary now that Martin has closed it. Does that mean someone who is insane can still do so? And who do we all know that’s entirely insane, yet powerful enough to accomplish such a feat as traveling to a different dimension?”

Baurus, Reynel and Relien all replied in unison; “Sheogorath.”

“Right, there’s no time to waste. Reynel, I‘d like to ask you to assemble Aryon, Divayth, Dhaunayne and Dratha here. I’ll send word to you as soon as I can. If what Azura said is true, and I have no doubt it will be, we’ll likely need to act fast after we’ve found out if there is a way. Baurus and I will travel to Vivec to speak with Sheogorath. Here’s hoping he’s having one of his saner days and, of course, hoping our conclusions are correct.”

“Why Vivec?” Baurus asked as he followed Relien along the corridors inside one of the Cantons in the city.

“Leave it to Sheogorath to go against all conventions. The north part of the island is named after him, so of course he’ll have his main shrine located at the very opposite end .”

Entering a small door in the very bowels of the Canton, Baurus found himself face to face with a statue of the Daedric prince of madness. Again without much ritual, Relien placed his hands onto the statue and spoke, “Lord Sheogorath, Lord of Madness, heed my call. Please answer our summons.” Unlike with Azura, Baurus did not hear a voice inside himself this time; instead the entire room suddenly seemed to be shaking. Baurus saw Relien back away from the statue, and with good reason as the entire statue seemed to be changing shape. It expanded, then shrunk again, then changed color to black, pink, purple and then back to grey. Then with a great boom and a flash of lightning the statue was gone, and in its place, stood the Daedric prince of madness; Sheogorath himself.

He resembled an Imperial, only a bit larger than usual, with grey hair combed back and a small grey pointed beard. What he wore reminded Baurus of nothing so much as a jester’s costume, purple and gold, interlaced with white lines. And in his right hand he had a cane which he presently held under his arm. Slowly looking around the room, his gaze fixed itself on Relien.

“Aren’t you the Nerevarine?” Relien slowly nodded yes. “OH MY LORD, please, can I have your autograph?”
As Baurus heard lord Sheogorath speak those words in such a childish tone, the first thing that sprung to mind was that they had summoned the wrong person, but as Sheogorath continued, Baurus found out just how deranged the lord was.

“Please, your autograph! Or…. Or wait, maybe I should just kill you and write my own autograph with your blood as ink, would that be an even better idea? What do you think? I mean you do think don’t you?”

“Lord Sheogorath, please, we’ve come seeking your help.”

“Ah, my help you say, my help? How can I help you two? Perchance you wish to become as me? That should not be a problem; a few centuries in my madhouse will cure you of any sanity you might have. Ok, it’s arranged then; you’re coming with me.”

“No! No, I’m sorry, but that isn’t what we’re here for Lord Sheogorath. We need to enter Oblivion, the Deadlands to be precise, and we understand you’re the only one that can take us there.”

Sheogorath seemed to be considering this, Baurus was glad the god’s attention was directed at Relien for now; he didn’t think he’d be able to keep as cool as the Nerevarine .

“Deadlands, Deadlands, hm, now that is where Mehrunes lives isn’t it? Yes it is, is it? Probably. But why would I take you there? Impossible, in two words, im-possible. Or possible? I don’t know, taking two mortals into Deadlands, why do it?”

“Something for nothing, nothing for something, no no no no no, that isn’t right, nothing for nothing, something for something, how do the Khajiit say it, you scratch my back, I won’t scratch out your eyes, eh? No no, that isn’t right. But you understand what I mean, yes? No?”

“I believe I do, yes, Lord Sheogorath. I believe I do, but what would you have from us?”

“Hm, what to choose, what to choose? Your eyes maybe? Your tongue? No no, I have a far better idea, but what about him? He’s going to come back anytime now! HE! Oh no, he will disturb our tranquility. No, no, we must not allow that, maybe one of these two, yes, maybe one of these two can scare him off, claw at him, scratch out his eyes. Maybe yes. Ok, it’s settled then. Three words; big crisis. I help you with my crisis, and then you help me with yours, no no, that isn’t right.”

Baurus suddenly saw Sheogorath turn very serious as he looked down at Relien and spoke; “ I’ll help you with your crisis, and then you promise that when the time comes, you’ll help me with mine. Only option, no other way, no backing out, is it a deal?”

“Agreed. I promise I’ll help you with whatever this crisis might be but only if you also promise to help us get Varvur out safe and sound.”

“Excellent! Agreed!” Sheogorath loudly exclaimed, “Excellent. That’s one word, you know.” He spoke while looking to Baurus, and Baurus could have sworn Sheogorath threw him a wink there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, hold onto your seats, we’re in for a rough ride, keep your hands within the cart at all times and whatever you do, don’t be sane!”

[Alexander]

Baurus had no way to describe the journey he made. He wondered if this was how Varvur had felt each time he entered Oblivion when he was going to close another gate.

Walking through a small part of the Deadlands, Baurus found it the most inhospitable landscape he had ever seen. Small islands of black rock among a sea of lava and connected by other small strips of black rock. Screams all around him, and on all sides they were surrounded by a horde of Xivilai and Markynaz and Valkynaz Dremora. Baurus didn’t want to think about what would have happened to Relien and him had they gone here without Sheogorath. Apparently though, the mere presence of the Lord of Madness kept the creatures at bay.

The three of them appeared to be moving towards a large castle in the distance. Countless spires rose over a shapeless block of what appeared to be some metal. A short way before the entrance Sheogorath stopped and looked down at Relien; “Wait for me here; it will be easier to talk to Mehrunes if I’m not with you two. Whatever you do, though, don’t be mean to the Dremora. They’re all kind-hearted souls as you can see from the axes they’re carrying. I mean, if they meant you harm surely they would be carrying battleaxes.”

“I intend no offense, Lord Sheogorath, but the minute you’re gone, the hordes will wash over us and I wonder how long even I can hold off this many of them.”

“Do you really think so, Relien? But they seem harmless.” Looking around at all the bared teeth and bloodshot eyes, Baurus thought harmless was the last word that applied. “Yes, Lord Sheogorath, I really do think so.”

“Oh all right, all right.” Sheogorath raised his hand and snapped his fingers, “There, now they won’t even know you’re here.” Sure enough, looking around, Baurus saw the creatures’ expressions change, and slowly they started moving away again, apparently disappointed that their prey had gotten away.

“Right, now wait here, and whatever you do, don’t touch anything! You never know if it might touch you back.”

Baurus saw Relien turn to him, “We might as well get comfortable; I think we might be sitting here for a while.”




Mehrunes Dagon looked through the void at Varvur. He hadn’t even started the pain and torture; for now, having Varvur know he would be here forever and never have a chance to get out, never see any of the people he cared for again was torture enough for Mehrunes. There would be plenty of time for physical pain yet; he had all eternity for that.

A strange sound made him look away from the island where he kept Varvur, and at the doors of his throne room. What was that, whistling? Someone was whistling in the Deadlands? The nerve. The whistling seemed to increase in volume, getting closer to Mehrunes, who took up a spear from one of the walls and readied it for throwing.

A polite knock sounded, followed by a cheery voice, “Knock knock, who’s there? Are you asking me? Should I? Isn’t Mehrunes supposed to ask that? I don’t know. Shall we go ask him?”

Mehrunes sighed and lowered the spear as Sheogorath opened the door. “What do YOU want?”

“Excuse me, do you know where the bathroom is? Or wait, was that what I wanted to ask? I don’t know. Hm, let me think on this for a moment.”

With a roar Mehrunes threw the spear he was holding at Sheogorath, but he was not surprised when it stopped in midair just a millimeter before piercing Sheogorath’s skin.

“Now now, no need to be grouchy, Mehrunes. I’ve already remembered what I came for; I need you to release your prisoner so I can give him back to his two friends that came with me and are waiting outside, and return them all to Nirn. Yes, that’s what I came to ask.”

Mehrunes stared at Sheogorath in disbelief. Surely he had now gone completely insane, surely he hadn’t helped two mortals gain entry into the Deadlands, surely he wasn’t seriously asking him to give up the one thing that remained from his failed expedition into Nirn.

“Have you finally lost whatever was left of your senses, Sheogorath?”

“No no, this time I’m serious, or am I? Yes I am.”

Expanding his senses outward, Mehrunes sensed something odd just outside his palace gates, something that wasn’t supposed to be there, a bubble of insanity. Penetrating it, he was even more outraged than a moment ago. “You did WHAT? You actually brought MORTALS here, HERE! After everything that happened recently, you brought two mortals HERE? And you want me to release this pitiful Dunmer I hold? Are you INSANE?”

The irony of that last question didn’t really catch Mehrunes until much later. He turned around, picked up his entire throne and threw it across the room. “How dare you!”

“Now, now Mehrunes, calm down, calm down, there’s no need to get excited, or is excited the wrong word? We get excited when we watch our entertainment dance, or yellow, but that was only one time and an entirely different story. Enraged?”

Mehrunes cut him off before he could continue; “I don’t care WHAT you call it! Have you any idea of what’s been going on here the last few years, any idea what almost happened, any idea what could have happened had it not been for this one Dunmer, have you any grasp of the situation whatsoever?”

“Grasp? Yes, yes, I do grasp the situation, grasp the situation you ask? Ha! I grasp it all too well. Do you grasp the situation Mehrunes? Do YOU? This little invasion, this attempt at a coup, it’s nothing, nothing, I say, compared to my situation.”

“And what situation would that be, Sheogorath?

Sheogorath advanced towards Mehrunes until he was but a hair’s length away. “Two words Mehrunes” then he leaned even further towards Mehrunes and whispered in his ear-

“Jyggalag.”

Mehrunes stepped back, stared at Sheogorath unbelievingly. “Is it his time again? Already?”

“Yes, yes yes yes yes yes, HE is coming. So I need the Dunmer, because if I get them the Dunmer, one of the friends will help me, and if he helps me, he helps all of us. If I don’t get the Dunmer, and he doesn’t help me, then he won’t help any of us, and HE will become ME. I will be him, he will be me, and you will be in trouble.”

Mehrunes roared and punched several holes in the floor. Then he willed Varvur to appear in the throne room. “TAKE HIM, AND BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE!”



Outside, Baurus watched the door to the palace open, and saw Sheogorath walk out. For a moment he despaired, thinking it had failed, but then behind Sheogorath he saw Varvur walk out of the palace. “Varvur!” he exclaimed.

“Baurus!”

Baurus ran up to Varvur, and stared into his eyes. Varvur stared back. Finally they were back together. Both had thought they’d never see each other again. For now, just being together would suffice. There would be time for more later, after they’d gotten home.

“Touching as this may be, let me give you one more service, a glimpse if you will, of what is to come.”

Sounding so serious and normal, if anything, made Sheogorath sound more dangerous than when he was his insane incoherent self.

A flash of light, and Varvur, Baurus and Relien were looking at Cyrodiil, only it looked nothing like it had before. Short flashes of visions from different parts of the province, Cloud Ruler Temple sporting a large gateway through which thousands of Akavirii demons and Tsaesci- snake people- were coming. The Imperial city in ruins, men being driven together to be sold as slaves, un-Nirnly rituals.

“So that was what Azura was speaking of, wasn’t it, Sheogorath?”

“Yes Relien. It’s not too late though to prevent it, but in two days, the gateway will open and after that, you have almost no chance.”

“Why help us, why show us this?”

“Because dumpling, if you’re dead, you can’t honor our bargain now can you?”

“One last request. Can you teleport us to the Imperial city, Lord Sheogorath?”

“Of course, that’s easier said than done, no wait, actually it’s easier done than said.” And with a wink from the Lord of Madness, and a flash, the three were on their way to the Imperial city.

[Olen]

Excellent. I liked it, exciting and fast moving as ever. And it comes thick and fast too.

I thought perhaps the riddle was a little too obscure, but then daedra princes are so it sort of works. I just thought reading that deep it culd have read other things.

Still I like that even the necromancers are involved. Are they in legues with the snakemen I wander... if so how long until one side backstabs the other... Good stuff.

[Alexander]

Chapter 15. Disclosure.

Once the captured Argonian saw the inside of the torture chambers at Cheydinhal, he was more then happy to talk. They had gathered there with only a few men; Ocato was there, alongside Jauffre and the emperor to be. Ocato was determined not to let the former Jester out of his sight even for a few minutes. After having gone through the trouble to get him here, he wasn’t about to lose him again.

They were joined by the Count of Cheydinhal; Andel Indarys and Balen Sarethi, who after having consulted his Archmaster in Blacklight using a scrying mirror, had decided to stay a while longer. Ocato was happy to have him, as he and his Redoran elite warriors had proven themselves during the failed ambush.

The tale of the Argonian confirmed much that Ocato thus far had only suspected. Countess Valga had been behind the deaths of Counts Terentius and Caro. The Argonian also told them of how a messenger had arrived a day ago and told the Argonians when and where to expect the column with the emperor. Obviously it was as Ocato had suspected; someone had intercepted his messenger to his bodyguard and thus found out the route the column was taking.

The Argonian further told of some of the conversations that had taken place while he was present, including Valga’s intentions to basically kill anyone who stood in her way, from the other counts and countesses to Ocato himself. It became clear Countess Valga would do anything to get her way. At first it might have been simply about turning Cyrodiil back to a kingdom, closing the borders and Cyrodiil keeping to itself, but over the weeks it had grown to ambitions to put a puppet emperor on the throne of Cyrodiil and rule by proxy. Clearly these were the ambitions of a very disturbed, very dangerous woman.

Throughout the confession of the Argonian, Ocato had seen the Duke of Cheydinhal become increasingly uneasy. Ocato wanted to point this out to Balen Sarethi, but a glance at him showed Ocato that the Redoran was already well aware of it. After the Argonian had told them what he knew, Ocato had him put into a cell; he might prove valuable later on. As the Argonian was taken from the room, Ocato looked over at Count Indarys.

“Well Andel, would you like to add something to the story of the Argonian?”

Falling to his knees, Andel Indarys looked up at Ocato with tears in his eyes. “I swear, Chancellor, I knew nothing of this attack. Please forgive me for betraying your trust.”

“So I was right then, Andel; you’ve been in the pocket of Countess Valga haven’t you? That’s why you voted in favor of turning Cyrodiil into a separate nation, right?”

“Yes my lord, you were, and I was. I had no choice; she knows things about me, things that would destroy me, and what remains of my family. But in light of what I heard, I cannot remain silent any longer, not even should it be the end of me.” He bowed his head and continued in a low voice:

“During the last war, I secretly had meetings with the Mythic Dawn cult. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I saw how little Uriel Septim cared for, and helped House Hlaalu in their struggle against the Telvanni in the war, and when he was killed and Mankar Camoran proclaimed himself to be the rightful new emperor, I thought he might be more sympathetic to the cause of my family members still in Morrowind, and that was exactly what the Mythic Dawn promised me to get my cooperation.”

“It goes to show you, Chancellor Ocato; you can never trust a Hlaalu,” Balen said in a gruff voice.

Ocato ignored this for the moment and asked, “But I remember you as one of the most fervent allies in our struggle against the Mythic Dawn. What happened? What made you change your opinion of them?”

“After several meetings in rundown bars and secluded locations, I grew emboldened and invited a ranking Mythic Dawn member into one of my private chambers for a meeting. It would be one of the final meetings before I joined the cult. Disaster struck before I could though, because during the meeting, my wife, Akatosh guide her soul, stumbled across the cultist and me. She was appalled when she saw the man I was with, and made it known very clearly. I asked the man to leave so I could talk it over with my wife, but she would not change her mind. She made it clear if I pursued this course, she would leave me.”

“I went to bed that night feeling miserable and was determined to cut off all ties to the Mythic Dawn. I would not lose the love of my life for anything. When I woke up the next morning, my wife was not lying next to me, and I found the entire castle buzzing with uneasy silence. I tried asking some servants what was wrong, but most hurried away as soon as they saw me. Finally my son came to me, crying. He never cries, and he told me his mother had gone for a stroll on the battlements sometime during the night, and somehow lost her balance and fallen to her death. A guard found her there that morning. Everyone just assumed it was a freak accident, but I knew better. I’ve never heard of someone falling twenty feet to their deaths and not uttering a single cry.”

“When next I saw the Mythic Dawn member that had been there with me that night, he admitted to first knocking my wife out, and then throwing her off the battlement. He did it to preserve his identity, he told me. And he apologized for it. Can you imagine that, he offered me his apologies. Even after I had him tortured, he still had that innocent smile on his face. He died with it and ever since all I could think of was getting my revenge by killing as many of the Mythic Dawn as I could.”

“But where does Countess Valga fit into all this?” Ocato asked.

“Some weeks ago, after the first failed vote, when she initiated the plan to withdraw all remaining Legions to the imperial province and see only to Cyrodiil, she came to me. She told me she knew all about what happened; she told me my wife, on the night she died, sent her a letter explaining she had caught me with someone from the Mythic Dawn and asking for advice. Valga threatened to show the letter to the rest of the Council, but above all to my son. He is everything to me, and even the thought of him seeing me responsible for the death of his mother, and make no mistake about it, I am, fills me with dread.”

“But knowing all that, I cannot go on supporting Valga, I nearly betrayed my rightful emperor once; I will not come close to that again.” Turning to emperor-to-be Dilbor, he spoke, “Before all here I proclaim you emperor of Tamriel and my rightful ruler. Do with me as you will, take my land, my titles, my freedom, my life. I would rather die than betray you.”

Ocato looked at Dilbor and wondered if he should speak in his stead.. One side of him wanted to summon a Daedroth and order it to rip Andel apart. Another side of him wanted to offer him a word of comfort. Dilbor took the choice away from Ocato though when he spoke after apparently a few moments of thought.

“Count Indarys, it seems to me any punishment I can come up with is as dust compared to the punishment you’ve been giving yourself since your wife’s untimely death. I thank you for your show of support, but I am not emperor yet. I therefore only have a favor to ask of you. Chancellor Ocato has told me how fervent you were in your battles with the Mythic Dawn, and now the reason is clear. I would only ask you to join us, with as many men as Cheydinhal can spare and lead them as we do battle with Countess Valga and whomever would support her, and forever after that until the end of one of our lives.”

“It would be my honor, Emperor.”

Ocato smiled. With this the new Emperor surely had found the first of many brave allies he would need to keep the Empire together in these troubling times.

[Alexander]

The rest of the trip to the Imperial city went without incident, but then no man or Argonian in his right mind would consider attacking the party Ocato was in now. The mounted Redoran elite warriors, alongside a large contingent of soldiers wearing Cheydinhal livery and accompanied by the remaining mages of the Mages Guild made for an impressive sight.

Before long they were riding up to the stables outside the Imperial city. Handing the reigns of his horse over to the stable master, Ocato turned to Balen, “Lord Balen, I have no idea what to expect inside the city, no idea how far Valga’s reach extends, so it might be wise to be ready for trouble, though at the same time, I am hesitant to ask you to bare weapons first.”

“I understand Chancellor; there’s a fine line between being ready for a threat, or being seen as one.”

As they walked trough the city, Ocato could feel the stares of the population; they had to be wondering why so many Dunmer were moving through their streets fully armed. Apparently so did the guards because as they moved into the Green Emperor Way, Ocato saw squads of soldiers and guards alike moving towards them with weapons ready. At the front of one of the groups Ocato saw his bodyguard Evangeline, and he could have sworn a different group was led by Janus Hassildor. What was the Count of Skingrad doing here?

It was Janus, and he was also the first one to spot Ocato in the group of warriors and call a halt to the Imperial Guards.
“Greetings Ocato.”

“Count Hassildor, good to see you; we need to have a talk about Countess Valga.”

“Yes Chancellor, we need to have a talk, but not just about Countess Valga. But let’s do it somewhere a little more quiet, shall we?”


The Elder Council chamber doors closed with a boom. Inside were Grandmaster Jauffre, Captain Steffan, Ocato and his bodyguard, Count Hassildor and Raminus Polus and, of course, the emperor to be.

“Now then,” Ocato began, “there was something you wanted to discuss, Janus?”

“Yes, Chancellor Ocato; several things have happened that you need to be aware of. First , I’m sorry to say the young Bosmer healer, Filben, has died.”

“Filben has died? Sad news indeed. I’ve only had the pleasure of meeting her once but she was a remarkably talented and kind-hearted young lady.”

“That she was, and I intend to kill the person responsible. Just before she died though, she provided us with vital and very important information. We can’t say how it happened, but Mannimarco is alive, and back in Cyrodiil stirring up trouble with a horde of Necromancer followers. And I’m sorry to say my former Seneschal, Mercator Hosidus is one of them.”

“Mercator? But that means….”

“Yes, from what Filben has been able to tell us, he and his Necromancer friends have turned Kvatch into a place of nightmare. Dark magic is being practiced there and reports of travesties are increasing.”

“Is Mannimarco there as well, Janus?”

“No, and that is what complicates the matter more. Filben learned he has holed up at a place called the Echo cave. It’s located far west of Bruma.”

“This is a troubling matter indeed; it makes Valga look like little more then a fly.” Turning to Raminus, Ocato continued “Raminus, please let Archmage Traven know I wish to speak to him.” Ocato was surprised at the sad look on Raminus face.

“Alas chancellor, Archmage Traven gave the ultimate sacrifice. He forced his own soul to be trapped inside a giant black soulgem. Only those people close to the soulgem are immune to Mannimarco’s most deadly spell; the enthrall spell.”

“How many people do you think the soulgem can protect, Raminus?”

“Not many; I estimate ten at most.”

Ocato thought about where to go next. He couldn’t take the entire force to the Echo cave; Mannimarco would have them as thralls in short order and would likely use his people against each other. On the other hand, he knew both the Echo cave and Kvatch needed to be attended to. His only option would be to split his forces.

“Very well, here’s what I propose we do. Raminus, get me the nine most powerful wizards in the Imperial city. Get them here within the hour. I don’t care if they’re renegades or guild members; promise them anything they want; just get them to agree to come with me. I will lead them personally to the Echo cave to face Mannimarco.”

“Janus, I want you to take whatever forces you can scrape together from this city, and go along with Andel to march on Kvatch within the hour. Get a Mages Guild member to send a message to Count Umbranox in Anvil to gather his forces and assist you. Lord Balen, I would like to ask you to go along with them; I fear they may need any help they can get.”

“Of course, Chancellor Ocato, we will aid them to the best of our abilities.”

“Thank you, Lord Balen. Now, that leaves but one issue unattended.” Ocato pointedly turned to look at the emperor to be. “I cannot take you with us, Your Highness; it would be far too dangerous, but leaving you here is also dangerous. Who knows how many agents either Mannimarco or Countess Valga has within the city?”

Someone cleared her throat behind him and Ocato turned to look at Evangeline, his bodyguard, “Ah, my apologies Chancellor, but since you’re likely traveling by way of Bruma to get to the Echo cave, wouldn’t it be a good idea to leave the new emperor at Cloud Ruler Temple? If any place can be protected it’s that place, and the Blades should be more then sufficient to safeguard him from anything.”

“That’s a wonderful idea; thank you Evangeline.”

“Right then gentlemen; you all know what to do; let’s end this.”

[Alexander]

Chapter 16. Failure?

Arriana was troubled. She was pacing back and forth in her great hall inside the Chorrol castle. She should have heard back from the Argonians by now. She had sent word to them yesterday telling them when and where the false heir and his party were coming into Cyrodiil. An unexpected ally inside the Imperial Palace itself had provided Arriana with the exact details, but not just that; she now knew Ocato had not stayed at the Palace as he had told the Elder Council, but instead had gone with Jauffre into Morrowind to collect the impostor personally.

Arriana assumed it likely that while there, Ocato had made evil dealings with the Dunmer and their leaders, this so-called lord Nerevar and Lady Barenziah. Bah, just what the Empire needed, Dunmer stirring up things as well. This was just one more piece of evidence that Arriana had done well in setting forth the plans the Divines had inspired.

Still, some word should have come by now. Ocato being there with the false heir was all the better; one less agent for the evil powers, or could he be strong enough to tip the balance? No. He alone could not the tip the scales that much, and the rest of the caravan that they traveled with hadn’t reached the border of Cyrodiil yet. No she could rest assured that the false heir, Ocato and that meddlesome Jauffre were dead by now; word just hadn’t reached her yet.

Word reaching her. She paced more furiously just thinking about the word that had reached her. Just this morning, she received word from Janus Hassildor that he had evidence proving Mannimarco, King of Worms had risen again and was threatening the Empire. Apparently the King of Worms was located in Echo Cave, to the north of Chorrol. This was awful, just considering the idea that Mannimarco might be the one influencing the Elder Council.

“Oh Stendarr, why me? I’m but a humble servant, please show mercy on me and send me a champion to fight Mannimarco in my stead.”

Turning at the sound of a door, Arriana saw Verata-Ves entering the room. “Ah Verata-Ves, have you received word?”

“I’m sssorry Countesss, word isss bad. The mercenariesss were outmatched. Apparently Ocato and the ressst were accompanied by Redoran warriorsss. The Argoniansss were held back, and later driven away when reinforcementsss of the Redoran arrived.”

“No! This cannot be. How could the Divines let them be defeated?”

“I do not have the anssswer, Countesss, but I fear it getsss worssse. The Redoran captured one Argonian, and after quessstioning in Cheydinhal, he confesssed everything. Count Indarysss betrayed you as well; he confesssed his role during the Oblivion crisisss to the falssse heir, who allowed him to live. He told them of how you blackmailed him to vote your way, and the Argonian told them of how you were behind the deathsss of Countsss Terentius and Caro.”

Arriana for once in her life was speechless.

“Countesss, they will sssurely come for you. Now that the evil forcesss know of you, they will want to end you, thusss dessstroying the Divinesss’ agent on thisss plane.”

“We cannot let that happen, Verata-Ves, but where can we go? No place is safe; I can’t hide in Leyawiin or Bravil; they would expect that.”

“Countesss, why not hide in Bruma? Sssurely anytime now the young Indarysss will return with the Madssstone, and onssse in her posssesssion, Countesss Carvain will no longer fear the evil men.”

“Yes, what a splendid idea, and while we’re there, we’ll tell the young Indarys what sort of a father he has. He too shall prove a loyal ally I don’t doubt. He is still young, and surely ready to devote himself to the Divines. But, Verata-Ves, if we hide in Bruma, we’ll be ever closer to Echo Cave where Mannimarco is hidden.”

“Sssurely Countesss, you have nothing to fear from the King of Wormsss. Arkay himself would come to Nirn and take Mannimarco’sss life himssself before he would allow you to be hurt.”

“Of course you’re right Verata-Ves; even one such as Mannimarco would not dare to lay a hand on an agent of the Divines. It’s settled then; have my carriage readied Verata-Ves; we travel to Bruma this very night.”

As the Tsaesci was exiting the room though, almost as an afterthought Arriana added, “Verata-Ves, what should we do about the Argonian mercenaries who failed me?”

“Countesss, I’m sssure the Divinesss will punisssh thossse who fail them, as they ssshould.”












Walks-in-shades was wondering how it had ever come this far. It had all started with an opportunity, an opportunity given to them by that strange man with the lisp, the one who refused to show them as much as his face, let alone anything else. He’d come to Black Marsh one day and recruited Walks-in-shades and his band of mercenaries for what was supposed to be the easiest job they had ever done.

Well it had started out easy, sure enough; killing four Imperials when you outnumbered them twelve to one was easy. But this last assignment had not gone the way it was planned. The messenger came to them and told them where to find their next target, and once again it would consist of only four men, sure one would be a mage, but still it was easily doable.

But when they got there, they found not four, but fifteen, and not just any fifteen, but elite Redoran at that. And no matter how Walks-in-shades and his band pressed them, they simply wouldn’t retreat, nor back down or die easily. They fought like Ansei and made the mercenaries pay a heavy price for each Redoran they killed.

And then at the moment of triumph, when the Argonians were ready to come in for the final kill, reinforcements of the Redoran appeared out of nowhere. Too many for the battered mercenaries to contend with, they did what any self- respecting mercenary would do when faced with overwhelming odds, flee.

Walks-in-shades still wondered where it had gone wrong though; so far his superior, the Countess Valga, had excellent intelligence. The band had gotten into Cyrodiil easily, dodging the Imperial patrols that crossed the land. And again getting to Reedstand Cave undetected had been easy to do.

Somehow though something must have gone wrong for the Countess; someone might have betrayed her, or been one step ahead of her. Whatever the reason, Walks-in-shades did not think it likely that the Countess would be pleased with them.

Walking through the resting Argonians, some of them treating their wounds, some even dying, a sentry came up to him. “Marshbrother, creatures are approaching.”

Looking to where the sentry was pointing, Walks-in-shade saw the first of a band of riders enter the camp. He couldn’t see the face of the man riding the horse, but noticed that the hands were strangely clawed.

“Greetings. What brings you here?”

Getting up off his horse, the large man came to stand before Walks-in-shade, and slowly pulled back his hood. Walks-in-shades’ eyes suddenly became large as he exclaimed, “Tsaesci!”

It was the last thing he ever said as, with a mighty swing of his sword, the Tsaesci sent Walks-in-shades’ head flying from his shoulders and into the camp.

[Alexander]

Endgame.

Baurus, Relien and Varvur felt disoriented, one moment the three of them were in Oblivion, the next they were inside the Imperial palace. It took them a moment to feel at ease. Traveling across plains of existence is never an easy journey. Looking around, they found they had arrived inside the Imperial Council chambers.

The chamber doors opened and in came Evangeline Beanique; Ocato’s bodyguard. “Who are you, what are you doing here?” Only then her eyes noticed Baurus and she stopped in mid-stride. Then her eyes darted to Varvur and she took a step back.

“Evangeline quick, we need to speak to the Chancellor.” Baurus said.

“The Chancellor, of... of course. I’ll get him right away.” She turned around and walked towards the door. Baurus turned to Varvur and was about to ask him how he felt, when a shockwave brushed past him. It seemed to be heading towards the door. Drawing his weapon and turning back he just saw Evangeline hit the outer doors of the palace with the back of her head and slump down.

Relien walked passed Baurus and knelt to check on her, “She was about to hit you with a spell of her own Baurus. Who is she? Because I sense evil in her.”

“Evil? You must be mistaken Relien; she’s been a loyal advisor and bodyguard to Chancellor Ocato for years now. She would be the last person to double cross him.”

“Well, if what you say is true, I’m sure it would be no problem for us to read her mind would it?”

Baurus saw Relien place his right hand over the face of Evangeline. The palm covered the forehead of Evangeline and the fingers, almost like feelers, were spread over the top of her head. Relien closed his eyes, and a soft humming sound seemed to come from Evangeline.

Baurus looked to Varvur for advice, “Lord Nerevar knows what he does Baurus; it won’t harm her.”

After several minutes of nothing but the soft humming sound, Relien opened his eyes and looked at Baurus and Varvur with a very serious expression. “You need to find a place to lock her up, make sure she can’t use her magic. I have to communicate with Reynel Uvirith right away. I hope she has been able to gather enough wizards by now.”

“Baurus, Varvur, time is of the essence now; the Empire is in more danger then we thought.”

[Alexander]

Countess Arriana Valga was excited. She had just watched, hidden behind ramparts on the Bruma walls, as an escort of mages delivered the false heir to Cloud Ruler Temple. He was so close now, almost within her grasp. She could feel it. Soon the plans of the Divines would reach completion; with the death of this false heir, the way to an independent Cyrodiil would be open, and when the Madstone was delivered unto Countess Carvain, her vote in the Elder Council was assured.

A noise at the gates made her look down. She saw a small band of riders come up to the gate. All of them wore long dark cloaks and one of them was carrying something large that was draped over the front of his horse. At first glance it seemed like a large bag, but looking closer Arriana saw an arm hanging from beneath a blanket, the arm of a Dunmer. Could it be Farwil? Had he succeeded in getting the Madstone for Countess Carvain?

She couldn’t wait to find out. She hurried down and made her way to the castle. Walking past the courtyard, Arriana saw the horses of the riders that had just arrived. So it was true; it had been Farwil draped over the horse. She walked even faster inside and came into the great hall just as the riders were approaching the seat of Countess Carvain. To her surprise, Verata-Ves stood beside the countess in a position of honor.

“Excellent, Starama-Por. You found him then.”

“Yesss Countesss. And here isss the Madssstone.” The figure handed Countess Carvain a gold-colored necklace with a large stone on it.

Walking forward Arriana faced Countess Carvain, “I’m happy you got what you wanted Narina. Now let’s go to the temple and finish the false heir. You have your men ready, I assume?”

Narina Carvain slowly turned to look at Arriana. “Yes, my men are ready, but I have no intention of killing off the heir. Besides, he’s not a false heir, but the true heir to the Imperial Throne.”

“What do you mean Narina? He is a false heir, the Divines told me themselves!”

“You silly goose. Why would the Divines choose a dumb jellyfish like yourself to speak to? They no more spoke to you, then I intended to vote for your silly proposal. Hard as it is to imagine, you’re even more foolish then you look.”

Countess Arriana was red with suppressed anger, “Verata-Ves, tell this… woman the truth; tell her the Divines sent you to guide me.”

“Countesss, I wasss sssent to guide you, but not by the Divinesss. My Massster sssent me, and he isss no more a messsenger for the Divinesss then I am.”

Countess Arriana was confused. What was happening here? She didn’t understand any of this. She was about to speak again but was cut off by Narina. “No, save it Arriana. You pitiful creature. We’ve had more than enough of your rants. Starama-Por, please end this wretch’s life.”

“My pleasssure, Countesss.”

Arriana saw him move towards her, but she was too stunned to try and run away. She saw the large figure put his hood back, and only then understood it too was a Tsaesci. She felt him grab hold of her head and yank it back, and then felt something very cold and sharp move across her throat.


None of the Divines came to her aid, none of them protected her, and Arriana died a lonely death.

[Alexander]

Looking around him, Ocato saw the faces of all his companions were tense. They understood the reality; they were the Empire’s best, and perhaps even last, hope. Mannimarco, the King of Worms, was a legendary figure, nearly a myth. He was the ultimate enemy of the mages, the Necromancer who had battled the legendary Vanus Galerion; founder of the Mages Guild. This was a man of legends, and now the ten of them were getting ready to face him.

Looking around, Ocato saw faces he had known for a long time; some of them he counted among his friends like Raminus Polus, and other had didn’t know too well. Now though the ten of them were combined in this grand quest to end of the life of a seemingly immortal Necromancer.

Ocato looked closely at each face and nodded at them. The nine others nodded back in understanding. They realized some of them, maybe all of them, might die in the coming struggle.

Using the key Ocato had taken off of the body of the fallen Necromancer who guarded Echo Cave, Ocato opened the door and lead the way for the others.

Making their way through the cave was a challenge by itself, for it was riddled with Necromancers, some of whom were obviously high up in the ranks. But against the power of ten experienced wizards like themselves, the Necromancers stood little chance.

One thing they all noticed was the large number of Cairn Bolete plants scattered through the cave. None of them were superstitious, but if legends of the plant were true, that they grew over the place where someone had died, then it was a bad omen.

Making their way through the small maze of corridors, they finally found themselves in front of a bridge connecting two small plateaus high above the cave floor. On the center plateau they found themselves face to face with the entity they had come to defeat; Mannimarco.

What they saw was a tall Altmer with eyes set deep in his face. He was clothed in the garb of a Necromancer with two large Necromancer wall hangings behind and to either side of him. Ocato studied him as he observed their approach. He appeared almost unconcerned seeing ten wizards approach his personal hideout. Finally he stirred slightly and spoke;

“I see Bolor was unsuccessful in delaying you. Very well; I shall reanimate him once we are done here.” The voice was matter-of-fact, almost bored. It held the air of a scholar annoyed by a minor inconvenience that was keeping him from his studies. He continued in the same tone:

“I must say I expected Arch-Mage Traven, rather than you bunch. I am disappointed to see that he could not face me himself. I have met so many of his predecessors over the years. I developed a particular fondness for Galerion, ill-preserved though he may be.“

“But here you are instead. Skilled enough to make it this far; perhaps you'll be as useful to me as Traven would.”

“We will never aid you, Mannimarco.” Ocato said in defiance.

“Oh my dear, I didn’t mean to imply you had a choice. I will make you another in a long tradition of Worm Thralls, and take my time in studying you. Your very souls will be forfeit to me.”

After that Mannimarco called on his powers and, with an almost casual gesture, sent a powerful spell their way. He clearly believed it would be a killing stroke; an expression of satisfaction appeared on his long, ascetic face. But after the smoke cleared, that expression was replaced with one of annoyance; all the mages were still standing untouched.

Immensely glad that the ploy of the late Arch-Mage had worked in protecting them, the ten wizards let out a collected sigh of relief. Mannimarco hardly seemed bothered by his setback though.

“You foolish mortals, do you think you can stop me? Feel my power.” Mannimarco raised his hands over his head and Ocato saw a ball of fire start to form between them. The fire increased exponentially and even across the bridge, the wizards could feel its heat. With a mighty cry, Mannimarco launched the fireball right into the midst of the wizards.

Ocato jumped out of the way, but still felt his hair and clothing singeing, and heard his companions cry in anguish.

[Alexander]

Count Janus Hassildor, Count Corvus Umbranox and Lord Balen Sarethi were riding at the front of their combined forces heading straight for Kvatch. Balen and Janus had joined with Corvus earlier that day and now they were marching perhaps to their doom.

Kvatch was one of the most defensible cities in the province, built on top of a mountain with but a single steep road leading up to it; it was said a hundred men in Kvatch could hold an army at bay.

Still, all its defenses hadn’t stopped the city from being overrun in the early stages of the Oblivion crisis. Nor had they prevented its near complete ruin. Parts of the walls had crumbled before the Oblivion onslaught, and much of the inside of the city was reportedly damaged and still broken.

At the foot of the road leading up to Kvatch, the Counts and Lord Balen found the camp of former Kvatch residents. From them they were able to learn much of the weaknesses inside and outside the city.

Although the citizens first thought the force had merely come to investigate their complaints, that some of their messengers had been able to get through to either Skingrad of Anvil, they soon found out it was not so. They immediately volunteered to help take back the city from the Necromancers. After having just recently regained it from the Daedra, they weren’t about to let someone take it from them again.

Both counts and the lord Sarethi realized there would be no way to surprise the Necromancers with an attack. With Kvatch built as high as it was, it had a great view of the surrounding area; anyone on the walls would be able to see for many miles. But while they did not have the element of surprise with them, they also knew that attacking right away would both mean that the Necromancers occupying the city had as little time as possible to prepare, and that their leader Mannimarco would be otherwise occupied.

Without hesitating, the combined forces stormed up the hill and took positions behind the improvised walls that had been used during the Oblivion crisis. Little more than wooden planks and stone piled together, it was better than nothing.

No attack came though; it seemed that none of the Necromancers had had the bright idea to restore the city’s catapults. That was an oversight the forces attacking the city weren’t too upset about. Not too upset at all.

They moved in front of the wooden palisades, and after Count Hassildor had given the signal, charged the walls with a thundering roar of battle cries.

[Olen]

This remains most enjoyable. Good stuff.

In the last tw parts you might want to consider combining some of the paragraphs as a lot of them were ery short and could have been made into one which might improve the readability and flow. Just a thought (and a comment for that sake of commenting).

[Alexander]

Back at the Imperial Palace, Baurus found himself with a host of Telvanni Wizards at his back. They had teleported into the Imperial Palace’s council chambers moments ago, and were now all standing, looking at Relien Geles, their Archmagister, and waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you all for coming. As Reynel has explained, we’re facing a crisis of epic proportions. A while before you came here I read the mind of Evangeline Beanique, the trusted bodyguard of Chancellor Ocato. In reality though, she is an agent working for an Akavirii alliance and has been promised immortality as compensation for her assistance.”

“As we speak, two battles are being fought, one to re-conquer Kvatch from a host of Necromancers occupying it, and one against the King of Worms himself; Mannimarco. Both will be hard fought and claim many lives, yet at the same time both are secondary in nature. The real battle is the one we’re about to enter. And it will take place at the northern city of Bruma.”

“I have a feeling Evangeline was not privy to every secret, but from what I’ve been able to gather I can tell you this- since ages past the Tsaesci and Snow Demons of Kamal have allied themselves from time to time to fight the two other races on Akavir. Each time they have been repelled by the alliance of the Monkey people of Tang Mo and the Tiger-Dragons of Ka’Po’Turn. So now they’ve come up with an even better plan. First they wish to conquer Tamriel, and then use its resources to defeat the other two nations on Akavir, thus ruling most of the known world.”

“To conquer Tamriel, they plan to open a long locked gateway that connects Cyrodiil with a city in the land of the Tsaesci. The exit on this side of the gateway was placed here ages past, by possibly the most influential Tsaesci in the history of Tamriel; Versidue-Shea; the Imperial Potentate.

“He was the one who created Cloud Ruler Temple, not as a headquarters to the Blades as it serves now, but instead as a base to protect the gateway. He then created an artifact called the Draconian Madstone as a key to open or close the portal at will.”

“For some reason though, he did not go through with his plan to open the gateway. Perhaps he was killed before he could execute his plans, perhaps for some other reason. The knowledge of this gateway then swiftly disappeared. Or so it seemed until some years back, when the Akavirii started planning a way to execute the plan. For it to succeed they needed chaos, so they started secretly recruiting selected people in Cyrodiil, promising them immortality in return. Others were merely influenced to provide the chaos that would serve as a smokescreen for their actions.”

“That leaves but one thing to explain; for some reason blood from the true Emperor of Tamriel is needed to activate the Madstone. Evangeline didn’t know the reasons behind it herself so I could only speculate as to the how and why of that.”

“My friends, as we speak, the Draconian Madstone is at Bruma, held by another Akavirii agent, the Countess of that city. And the true Emperor is at Cloud Ruler Temple.”

“We need to act with all haste if we wish to avoid disaster in this. None of us have much love for the Empire as a whole, always being content merely to rule ourselves and leave others to their own business, but today I tell you, as I myself was told, if we do not aid the Empire in battling and defeating this foe, we will ourselves be defeated.”

“Now, let us teleport ourselves to Bruma with all haste. Baurus, Varvur, I will take you two there. Good luck everyone in the coming battle, and may Azura be with you all.”