Elder Scrolls: The Great War (IC)

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin gazed at the ongoing siege with more than a little contempt. I've seen better siege plans in a three year old's drawings in the dirt. He turned to Petnea.

"Whom do you sense?"

She concentrated while Athrogate let out a belch and more than a few bad rhymes.

"The same woman from Leyawiin... and there's somebody down there who knows you." Benyamin raised an eyebrow.
"Knows me."
"Yes, let me just... oh."
"What!"
"You met him in Skyrim. Twenty odd years ago... a High Elf." Benyamin's eyebrows shot up.
"Aladur."
"Yes." Now Benyamin broke out into a massive smile. The old rogue was still doing his damndest to bring down the Empire. He turned to Petnea.
"Send him a message that his dead friend from Skyrim wants to speak to him on this ridge after the battle. Then you are dismissed back to the sanctuary."
"Yes sir."
Aladur. Your dead friend from Skyrim would like to speak with you after the battle. Ridge behind your army. That done, Petnea bowed to Benyamin and left, leaving no trace she ever was even there. Athrogate belched a bit and swore as a particularly large rat ran by him. Benyamin smiled, laid back, and thought of Skyrim.

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin gazed at the ongoing siege with more than a little contempt. I've seen better siege plans in a three year old's drawings in the dirt. He turned to Petnea.

"Whom do you sense?"

She concentrated while Athrogate let out a belch and more than a few bad rhymes.

"The same woman from Leyawiin... and there's somebody down there
who knows you." Benyamin raised an eyebrow.
"Knows me."
"Yes, let me just... oh."
"What!"
"You met him in Skyrim. Twenty odd years ago... a High Elf." Benyamin's eyebrows shot up.
"Aladur."
"Yes." Now Benyamin broke out into a massive smile. The old rogue was still doing his damndest to bring down the Empire. He turned to Petnea.
"Send him a message that his dead friend from Skyrim wants to speak to him on this ridge after the battle. Then you are dismissed back to the sanctuary."
"Yes sir."
Aladur. Your dead friend from Skyrim would like to speak with you after the battle. Ridge behind your army. That done, Petnea bowed to Benyamin and left, leaving no trace she ever was even there.
Athrogate belched a bit and swore as a particularly large rat ran by him. Benyamin smiled, laid back, and thought of Skyrim.

Dralin had said little along the way. Her mind was all over the place. At first, she felt like a bird set free. Everything seemed fresh and new! It had been like taking a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a cave for years.

But as she grew closer to Bravil, she felt a sense of dread. As if she should be dowb there, not were she was. And looking upon the way the battle was going thus far, her yearning only increased.

Finally, Dralin spoke up. "What do you intend to do? Sit here and watch?"

[North Banrodesia]

Isratial remained vigilant for many more minutes, watching the silhouettes of the siege towers that poked up over the canopy of the forests. Down below the towering war machines, a million torches shimmered accross the forest floor, Like the stars in the sky of ebon above the city where he stood.
After almost fifteen minutes of being idle, Isratial peered over the battlements into the canal that flowed into Bravil through a rusted portcullis. He spotted the golden armour of Thalmor underneath the water, followed by some kind of spell. He threw a shock spell into the water, which hurriedly sped through the water like blood speeds through veins. He kept waiting to see if he had afflicted any casualties, Which he expecte he had achieved. 'They're in the water! Block up the portcullis! Isratial yelled into the city to see several imperial soldiers responding to his cry by preparing spells and arrows into the threshold of the Portcullis, some throwing constant streaks of shock into the murky water, which sparked up and leaped around the surface of the water.

[Lancearc]

Jo'Rak, returning from grabbing a few new quivers of arrows from the empty tent--the quartermaster was nowhere to be found--heard the cry of an Altmer atop the battlements, saying something about the Thalmor swimming through the water to try and infiltrate the city. Indeed he saw them before he even reached a staircase that he could use to get atop the wall, so he stood on the banks of the canal, a lone archer nearest the Thalmor but protected by one of the many shacks that aligned the canal of Bravil. The battlemages were throwing shock spells into the water, and along with arrows, that seemed to be doing the job, as the Thalmor in the water fell prey to the deadly combination.

[New Endenia]

Enelya sat comfortably on her chair, in the Commander's tent overlooking the battle, sipping a cup of hot tea, she found tea especially good at calming her down during stressful times, the siege of Bravil was an....especially stressful time for her, she somehow figured that Commander's plans might not fall through and not willing to hinge all her bets on one move, she gave the order for the troops to essentially surround the city and wait out the defenders, time and resources are on her side. Why waste troops?

In her other hand was a book she got from the Leyawiin castle, a book on the Dark Brotherhood. She lazily flipped the pages as she waited for the siege towers to get closer to the walls, reading on the recorded histories of the assassin's guild. "Fascinating..." She mumbled to herself, she had heard of the Dark Brotherhood before in her studies but she had never encountered them back home on the Sumerset Isles. She reached to the page on the Black Sacrament and her eyebrows shot up as she read it. "Perhaps the Dark Brotherhood has some use after all......Now how shall I find them..." Her mind was plotting and formulating a plan, she remembered the Daedra's request to destroy the Night Mother's statue in Bravil but maybe the Dark Brotherhood can be a powerful ally, even more so against a Daedra.

"Great One. What are your orders?"

Enelya looked up from her book to see several commanders standing in front of her, the arrows and fireballs thrown from the city defenders and the siege seemed to be taking a slight toll on the commanders, judging from the blood and sweat on their faces. "Inform our troops to hold their lines against the city, we shall wait them out for now."

"As you command Great One."

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin turned back to Dralin. "Yes, I do. There is exactly one thing down there that concerns me. As of now, he is assaulting the walls. He's an old friend, and I plan on meeting him after the battle. If he survives."

He paused, and his eyes narrowed. "You aren't happy with that." It wasn't a question. "You want to be down there, fighting. My question is, on who's side?"

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin turned back to Dralin. "Yes, I do. There is exactly one thing down there that concerns me. As of now, he is assaulting the walls. He's an old friend, and I plan on meeting him after the battle. If he survives."

He paused, and his eyes narrowed. "You aren't happy with that." It wasn't a question. "You want to be down there, fighting. My question is, on who's side?"

Dralin pondered this question. She was made to fight. It was as much her now as anything else. She was a tool for war... The Thalmor had made her so...

No. Not anymore.

Dralin sat on the grass. "Dunno. Just better than sittin'.". She spit in the opposite direction, then turned back to Benyamin. "So who's this mate you got down there?"

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin turned back to the siege.

"His name is Aladur." The Assassin's voice was quiet, thoughtful. "He saved my life and I his more times than I care to count. Decades ago, in Skyrim. We fought side by side against the Empires. You may have heard of the now defunct, or supposedly so, Golden Sabers?"

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin turned back to the siege.

"His name is Aladur." The Assassin's voice was quiet, thoughtful. "He saved my life and I his more times than I care to count. Decades ago, in Skyrim. We fought side by side against the Empires. You may have heard of the now defunct, or supposedly so, Golden Sabers?"

"I heard of them, yeah. Thieves Guild tells stories of a Redguard that ran with them. Lead to his death, way I hear it.". She turned to the battle. "So, you were with them? I heard you'd all died."

[Aldares]

Isratial remained vigilant for many more minutes, watching the silhouettes of the siege towers that poked up over the canopy of the forests. Down below the towering war machines, a million torches shimmered accross the forest floor, Like the stars in the sky of ebon above the city where he stood.
After almost fifteen minutes of being idle, Isratial peered over the battlements into the canal that flowed into Bravil through a rusted portcullis. He spotted the golden armour of Thalmor underneath the water, followed by some kind of spell. He threw a shock spell into the water, which hurriedly sped through the water like blood speeds through veins. He kept waiting to see if he had afflicted any casualties, Which he expecte he had achieved. 'They're in the water! Block up the portcullis! Isratial yelled into the city to see several imperial soldiers responding to his cry by preparing spells and arrows into the threshold of the Portcullis, some throwing constant streaks of shock into the murky water, which sparked up and leaped around the surface of the water.

Aladur saw the shock spell coming at him in slow motion. Everything seemed to slow down, the spells, his troops, and the cold breeze of the night. He attempted to alert his followers, but it seemed no one was listening. They all kept following orders until the surge of light bounced and exploded, causing the slow-time effect tat Aladur had been experience to stop. The energy released shot an injured Aladur out of the water and into a muddy bank. Looking up, he saw the rest of his crew floating on their backs, lifeless. He had failed.

He reached for a tree root to pull himself up, but his hand fell short by just a few inches. His sight blacked out...

[Lancearc]

Jo'Rak grinned darkly as he saw that the sentries of the Empire had ended the Dominion's sttempt at whatever strange tactic they had just tried to employ. He noticed that one of the Thalmor soldiers had been shot onto the bank near him, and saw upon closer inspection that he was still breathing. He hefted the Thalmor leader over his shoulders, gazing around he ssw that a house had been used as a POW area and decided to take the Elf there. An Imperial man nodded, and lay the Elf on a bed inside a locked room with a few other Dominion soldiers.

With no further interruption, the Khajiit sprinted to the wall and joined the battle that seemed to be calming down a bit.

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin shrugged, seeming in pain. "That was Boran. Maybe I was more skilled. Maybe I was more lucky. It doesn't matter. A lot of good friends of mine died or got lost along the way. One I know for sure is still up there. The others died or scattered. Boran, dead. Babbette, gone. The rest, dead as well."

His attention shifted to a small battle at the walls. It looked like most were killed, and one captured. He shook his head and sighed, before standing and beginning to walk down toward the army.

[Aldares]

Aladur slowly came to his sense, regaining his hearing before his sense of smell, and finally his eyesight. His clothes, armor, weapons, everything had been taken. Presumably sold to war profiteers who could make a big score off of illegal Dominion weaponry and Thalmor robes, a precious trophy to Imperial soldiers. Looking around he saw several other soldiers, two Altmer, one Bosmer and one Argonian. The female Altmer was stroking the wounded male Altmer on her lap. He seemed to be in some serious trouble, as he was visible shaking and didn't seem to be able to talk.

"Why haven't you patched his wound up?" Aladur spoke slightly loudly, breaking the light silence just beyond the sounds of a battle commencing behind the house.

"Shh! Do you want them to do this to you, too?" The female Altmer was strong, blonde, and slightly beautiful, but that was masked by a visible layer of dirt.

"Here, let me take a look at him." The female Altmer nodded and lowered her companion to the ground so that Aladur could inspect him. Finding the problem to be a simple sword wound coupled with some shock-burns, Aladur lit up the small cage quickly. There was a small popping sound, and then the Altmer's wound was cauterized.

"It'll take him an hour or two to wake up, but he'll be fine."

"Thank you! My name is Elenwen, this here is Umbracar. We were ambushed by an Imperial Forester unit on our way to the siege." Elenwen smiled, the slightest form of kindness moving Aladur in this dark room.

"My name is Aladur." Aladur mock-bowed while sitting down, his expression one of an arrogant aristocrat.

"You were the one who led the assault on the river? By the Eight, it'll take a dragon to blow those walls down."

"No kidding..."

[Vahvanti]

For the past few hours, the battle seemed to be moving ever slower. The spells thrown by the Aldmeri mages became less effective, and the arrows of their armoured counterparts were getting even less accurate. The numerous siege ladders the Thalmor stored away were being deployed at a much slower rate and, at least to Niniel, they could be taken down with a few mediocre shots.

Either this is the sign telling us that we're winning, Niniel thought, Or this is the sign telling us that we will be doomed.

The Bosmer kept up her firing at the opposition, even taunting them with three simultaneous arrows (All on-target, obviously) to illicit a response.

[Videssos]

Caladan Velaryon,
A hill not far from Bravil

Caladan watched the unfolding siege. Both defenders and besiegers seemed to be tiring, and that meant the the force of around thirty four men- he had managed to increase the small group up to that number, could inflict some damage upon the Thalmor in a lightning strike before retreating, once the enemies begun to retaliate. For now though, Caladan would keep an eye on the forces attacking the city, from a hill some distance away.

[Wolfmanne]

Siege of Bravil
Cyrodiil
Lord Naarifin

Weeks. Weeks until the assault could begin. His troops were optimistic but he wished that he could force the Imperials into a surrender. However, this would take months and he didn't have months. Lady Annaleya was at Skingrad, a siege he would have to take over to allow her to cross the border into Hammerfell. And he had plans for her top lieutenant Lady-Commander Enelya, plans which he wanted to be put in place as soon as possible. He had 30,000 men under his command and according to his Spies, the Imperials over the bridge had a force of about 28,000 - and that's if you forget about the militias which have formed up.Those Imperials had a fort and had taken the high ground in Nibennay Valley. They were doing well in their job; if he attacked Bravil, the Imperials could easily outflank him. Even once they took the city, they could just besiege them all over again. With a battle map painted by his battle artists, he had decided that an attack upon the Imperials would be necessary and he was playing around with a few pieces.

The biggest threat to them would be their archers. Despite the Bosmer being the best archers in the whole of Tamriel, they didn't have enough of them to compensate the archer threat. They had taken up good positions and had decent cover, which would had probably been enchanted with magic resistance. His army would also be outnumbered - he only had so much men to spare for the battle and for the siege. He would leave 4,000 men behind, giving him 26,000 men. However, their advantage was the fact that the average Dominion grunt was proficient in magic and they had significantly more wizards then their battlemages. The elite Dominion Warlock Corps was also attached to them, their counterpart to the Blades and the Oculatus. Dominion Armour was light yet sturdy and Elven weapons outclassed most steel weapons. He had a good idea of what to do; now he had march his men across the bridge while under fire for the Bravilians to meet the Imperials.

"Courier!" the Lord called. A Thalmor Wizard entered; the courier role was usually a punishment, or a task given to cadets and other junior officers. The Wizard stood to attention, whilst Lord Naarifin write a note addressed to Lady Enelya.

"Bring this to Commander Enelya Wizard" the Lord ordered, handing it to the courier. "You have five seconds to leave this tent and start running". The Wizard saluted and sprinted out of tent to deliver the message.

---

Castle Bravil
Cyrodiil
Count Vincenzo Amerilius

Why should he be sitting on his throne, when he should be on the walls, helping his people defend their city. Due to his position, he weren't allowed; his Guards would consistently warn him about the dangers of death from a Dominion sharpshooter or something of the like. He didn't like what was happening but he knew that he had his part to play. His steward, Louis Champagne, a Breton noble from the Kingdom of Champagne, stood by his throne, ready to offer advice.

"Steward" he begun."What do you think is most important - the lives of your men and people, or the deaths of your enemy, despite knowing that your men and people will die". The Steward looked at him surprised; what a question to ask?

"You aren't implying that we surrender?" the Steward replied. "Do you know what they did to Leyawiin - it almost got completely destroyed!"

"No, not at this point" the Count replied. "Perhaps the 6,000 guards here would be better off as Legionnaires, not as doomed Guards. I'm saying that a minor setback would mean a greater reward for us all".

"The Thalmor won't give you Honours of War - they seem contempt to wait, despite that incident by the water gate - which have been fortified, as request, Count".

"Well, when we sally forth, if Crazy Al and the Emperor can draw them into a fight, perhaps we can send an emissary to Fort Ocato, since it would be rude to surrender if it weren't part of their strategy to allow the city to fall. Get me a team assembled, ASAP, if this materialises".

---

Dear Lady-Commander Enelya

Our position doesn't seems all too good - the Imperials, as you know, have camped out not far from here in Nibbenay Valley. They threaten our very strategy and with an unforgiving government, we cannot afford any failures. Bravil is critical, for if we leave them, they'll be a thorn in our side. Assemble an Army of 26,000 men, including the entirety of the Corps. In a few days, we march north to defeat this 'Crazy Al' and his Army of Legionnaires.

Yours, Lord Naarifin

[Wolfmanne]

Fort Orcato
Nibenay Valley
Cyrodiil
4E 171, Fourteenth of Sun's Dusk

Emperor Titus Medes summoned the troops outside the fort, as he stood upon a podium; beside him, the Marshall of the Blades, the Marshall of Imperial City, General Crazy Al, the General Dux of the Army stationed in the Valley, the new Imperial Battlemage, an Altmer named Telindar, who was most certainly loyal to the Emperor, some Blades and Penitus Oculatus bodyguards and a variety of politicians. The number of men covered the entire valley; although most legionnaires, there were also several Blades, Oculatus agents, volunteering Guards and citizen Militias to make up an army, which had a final size of 21,000 legionnaires from all 7 Legions in Cyrodiil, 7,500 Guards from across Tamriel, who have volunteered to form two new Legions, the 23rd and 24th Legions, along with 1,500 assigned to replace the losses in the Fifth and several thousand unaccounted militiamen and guerillas, who likely numbered from a conservative estimate of 2,000, right the way up to 6,000.

"Men of the Grand Army of Cyrodiil" the Emperor began. "We are gathered here in Nibenay Valley to defend the institute that is the Empire. It is here 9 Legions of the Empire is summoned. Collectively, the Thalmor outnumber us 6:3, but we have Imperial steel and bravery to defeat them. Their supply lines are cut-off and Bravil is all set to be a massacre - a massacre for the Thalmor!" A cheer echoed through the valley, with the undisciplined guerillas giving out whistles of approvements, while the Legionnaires gave a cheer and a round of applause. "These are grim times for the Empire; the Imperial Battlemage Ocato was murdered in cold blood. He was one of the greatest Imperial Battlemages the Empire ever had, one who refused to surrender to the Thalmor Coup and remained loyal to the Empire way after the Oblivion Crisis. He served the Septims themselves - the Dragonbloods - and us Medes, who restored order to the Emperor. This fort is named in his honour. To replace him, we have searched long and hard but I am happy to present former Arcane University professor Telindar as the new Imperial Battlemage".

The men clapped, but for some it was a forced one; the Altmer were now the scapegoats of Tamriel and many would had preferred a Breton as the Imperial Battlemage. There were sounds of booing from the militiamen.

"The death of General Mathus of the Imperial Legion and half of Fifth Legion in the Battle of Leyawiin shocked us all" the Emperor continued. "It is sad that we have to replace him and several other Officers. I am proud to award the following men of Fifth Legion with a commission or promotion". A list of names was spoken, most notable being Captain Antioch becoming a Legate and Jo'Rak becoming a Praefect". Then came the all important position; General of Fifth Legion.

"As Emperor of Tamriel, I hereby commission Legate Mist-Walker in the rank of Generalship" he announced. Most people clapped and cheered like they meant it, but there were some doing the infamous false applause; an Argonian General? First an Altmer Imperial Battlemage, an Orc General Dux and now an Argonian General. Mist-Walker stood up to the podium and kneeled in front of the Emperor, who handed him the General's Armour and Sword. A customary salute and the new General Mist-Walker stood on the podium.

"However, we are also gathered here for a sad reason; the first deaths in the war, from Ocatos' to the brave citizen of Leyawiin, must be remembered" the Emperor said, his grim tone lowering the theme of joy. "Let us stand for a minute of silence". Everyone stood, a word not said, apart from the occasional coughing. When it ended, the unofficial tradition of a round of applause echoed the valley.

"Remember Legionnaires, you are not just doing this for the Emperor... you'[re doing this for Tamriel" he shouted, the cheers of an Army ending it as he left the podium. The Generals began shouting orders, sending them to their posts. The Fifth Legion would have a tough job; to train the new recruits into Legionnaires, although at least they were ex-Guards, so they would be ready before any major battle. The Battle of Bravil was beginning.

Imperial City, Cyrodill
He was on his the last letter in the musty chamber and was about to stand up to go to the bookbinder when the door burst open. Around 10 Imperial Legionaries and some mages came in. At first he thought that a purge of Altmer in the Empire was finally happening. His thoughts wandered around. It was better to die an honourable death, he decided. There was no real way of escaping. Then Telindar realized the congratulations he was recieving.
"-and upon the murder of The Honourable Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor Ocato, Telindar of Chorrol, Arcane University professor and former mage of the Empire is to be appointed as the new Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor.
Telindar could not believe what he was hearing. Ocato had been murdered? It was almost impossible. He had known Ocato and was once or twice before the Oblivion Crisis tasked to help him in affairs. His death was almost unthinkable. While he was not the most powerful mage as Emperor Uriel Septim VII had learned the hard way of appointing the most skilled mages in positions of high power within the Empire from Jagar Tharn, Ocato would be someone hard to kill.
His appointment as Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor astonished him. He was now one of the older wizards in the Arcane University, though there were a few more Altmer and Dunmer older. Had this taken place during the reign of Uriel Septim he and a few others would definitely be marked as not to be selected because of the risk they could pose to the Emperor. The Empire was truly becoming desperate. He didn't blame them. Telindar had heard Naarifin was a master strategist that baffled the Imperial Generals and a certain Enelya was a child prodigy who easily took down hordes of Legionaries.
He faked a smile and shook hands, accepting the congratulations. Quickly, he rushed to his desk and spotted an apprentice.
"You, go bind this, make copies. Here," Telindar handed the apprentice some septims and the finished copy of On Theory of the Void Nights. "Sell it, I don't care. Just spread it around and perhaps I'll know if my work was successful or not." The apprentice, shocked, simply grabbed the coins and the manuscript running to the printer.
He took a deep breath and walked out of the Arcane University with the guards.
Fort Ocato, Cyrodill
The Emperor announced his appointment as Imperial Battlemage and the crowd clapped. Telindar could see some only clapped out of politeness. The recent Thalmor invasion made the atmosphere very anti-Altmer. He couldn't blame anyone, especially during a war when the enemy has penetrated so far as to rooting out every Blade in their land. It was natural to think most High Elves were spies. Telindar gave a curt nod at the applause and listened to the various promotions.
He did not hear them. For now he was thinking on how to counter the Empire's greatest threat. Just a day ago he had been handed a profile of the Thalmor force invading Cyrodill, primarily on Enelya, the most talented mage of the Thalmor. Reports said that she was dangerous to approach without magical wards and an arsenal of arrows and spells.
The speech ended with a moment of silence and some cheering words from the Emperor. Those words would not save them, Telindar thought to himself. Only their wits and courage would now.
Approaching the Marshall of the Blades and Crazy Al, Telindar spoke, "Sirs, if you have some time to spare please listen to me. I hav- I mean, based on the intelligence given to me I think that we should rather, change Imperial battle doctrine to effectively combat the Thalmor." he finished the last part of the phrase smoothly.

"Go on then" the Marshall replied. "I'm all ears - and I hope the General is as well".

[New Endenia]

Enelya read the message from Lord Naarifin slowly, she nodded to the Courier to dismiss him. "You may leave. Well done." She stood up to study the maps within her tent and noted the new positioning of the Imperial troops and the Dominion forces. Sitting around the conference table within the tent were her top commanders, each of them awaiting their orders. "Our Lord has requested the attention of the Warlock Corps, combined with 26,000 troops to march forward to defeat an Imperial host gathered here, in Nibbenay Valley."

The other commanders looked at each other and mumbled, one spoke out, "Great One, what of the Siege?" Enelya shrugged as she tossed the letter into the fire. "Lord Naarifin will handle the siege himself, we have more than enough troops to do both I believe, its not like the defenders in Bravil are going anywhere. These are my orders, assemble the entirety of the Warlocks Corps and a host of 26,000 men from the troops here and march forth to the Nibbenay Valley. We will engage them head on and wrap it up quickly with our superior magical firepower."

"As you command, Great One."

Orders were given out to the already mobilized Dominion troops around the city, slowly elements of the sieging Dominion forces withdrew from the Siege to create a host of around 26,000 men, supplemented by the majority of the Warlock Corps, the elite mages of the Dominion, the Thalmor's equivalent of the Blades and the Oculatus, they were precious elite forces that cannot be squandered off. The next batch is still training backed on the Isles within the Tower of the Warlocks and wouldn't be ready till the next three to six months. Enelya stood at the top of the hill, watching the gathering troops marshalling. "Commander, once the troops are assembled, march them out immediately. It will take close to a day to get there, I want to settle this as soon as possible."

"Yes Great One." He turned to the troops that had already gathered, "Move out! We have Imperial scum to butcher."

[Terripin]

Imperial City, Cyrodill
He was on his the last letter in the musty chamber and was about to stand up to go to the bookbinder when the door burst open. Around 10 Imperial Legionaries and some mages came in. At first he thought that a purge of Altmer in the Empire was finally happening. His thoughts wandered around. It was better to die an honourable death, he decided. There was no real way of escaping. Then Telindar realized the congratulations he was recieving.
"-and upon the murder of The Honourable Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor Ocato, Telindar of Chorrol, Arcane University professor and former mage of the Empire is to be appointed as the new Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor.
Telindar could not believe what he was hearing. Ocato had been murdered? It was almost impossible. He had known Ocato and was once or twice before the Oblivion Crisis tasked to help him in affairs. His death was almost unthinkable. While he was not the most powerful mage as Emperor Uriel Septim VII had learned the hard way of appointing the most skilled mages in positions of high power within the Empire from Jagar Tharn, Ocato would be someone hard to kill.
His appointment as Imperial Battlemage of the Emperor astonished him. He was now one of the older wizards in the Arcane University, though there were a few more Altmer and Dunmer older. Had this taken place during the reign of Uriel Septim he and a few others would definitely be marked as not to be selected because of the risk they could pose to the Emperor. The Empire was truly becoming desperate. He didn't blame them. Telindar had heard Naarifin was a master strategist that baffled the Imperial Generals and a certain Enelya was a child prodigy who easily took down hordes of Legionaries.
He faked a smile and shook hands, accepting the congratulations. Quickly, he rushed to his desk and spotted an apprentice.
"You, go bind this, make copies. Here," Telindar handed the apprentice some septims and the finished copy of On Theory of the Void Nights. "Sell it, I don't care. Just spread it around and perhaps I'll know if my work was successful or not." The apprentice, shocked, simply grabbed the coins and the manuscript running to the printer.
He took a deep breath and walked out of the Arcane University with the guards.
Fort Ocato, Cyrodill
The Emperor announced his appointment as Imperial Battlemage and the crowd clapped. Telindar could see some only clapped out of politeness. The recent Thalmor invasion made the atmosphere very anti-Altmer. He couldn't blame anyone, especially during a war when the enemy has penetrated so far as to rooting out every Blade in their land. It was natural to think most High Elves were spies. Telindar gave a curt nod at the applause and listened to the various promotions.
He did not hear them. For now he was thinking on how to counter the Empire's greatest threat. Just a day ago he had been handed a profile of the Thalmor force invading Cyrodill, primarily on Enelya, the most talented mage of the Thalmor. Reports said that she was dangerous to approach without magical wards and an arsenal of arrows and spells.
The speech ended with a moment of silence and some cheering words from the Emperor. Those words would not save them, Telindar thought to himself. Only their wits and courage would now.
Approaching the Marshall of the Blades and Crazy Al, Telindar spoke, "Sirs, if you have some time to spare please listen to me. I hav- I mean, based on the intelligence given to me I think that we should rather, change Imperial battle doctrine to effectively combat the Thalmor." he finished the last part of the phrase smoothly.

"Go on then" the Marshall replied. "I'm all ears - and I hope the General is as well".

Fort Ocato, Cyrodill
Telindar began. "As the Thalmor primarily rely on magic to back themselves up, Leyawinn proved this, we should counter this. Without the ability to use effectively use their magic, the Thalmor shall lose their greatest and only strength in tactics. Rather than giving our legionaries a sword to charge at, we should make them stand at a distance. Anybody not strongly warded or has enchanted armor has an ensured death when charging at a mage with a sword. My idea is, to get the Legion to rely more on the bow, arrow, and javelin rather than the sword. We can place small groups of skirmishers in forests to harrass and demoralise the Thalmor even after they've conquered the city. If we have the resources, we should train more mages in mysticism to even further counter Thalmor spells."

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin extended his mind to the Ka'kari he carried with him. His material form seemed to shimmer and disappear. In reality, it was transported to another plane of existence. One of the more benign ones. His corporeal form meanwhile stayed in Cryodiil, and it could see, hear, taste, talk, and feel, just like a normal body. The only difference was that it couldn't be seen. So, he walked through the Dominion camp, toward the city, and his idiot friend. As Benyamin approached the walls, he gazed at them. High and no doubt solid, but old. The rock was still strong, but it was also very porous. Benyamin reached into his pockets and produced a brace of four specially pointed daggers. Two went into special sheaths on the bottom of his boots, leaving the broad tip poking two or so inches out. The other two he clasped in his hands. The Assassin grimaced and started to climb the wall. He slid the point of each dagger into each the crevices and nooks and crannies he could find, slowly climbing his way to the top. After almost an hour and a half of excruciating pain while climbing, Benyamin flipped himself up and over the ramparts. A nearby Imperial Guard stood, looking around warily. Benyamin slowly slid the two daggers out of the soles of his boots, and placed them all in their various hiding spots.

The Assassin took a ladder down from the ramparts to the ground, and looked around. A caslte, with six guards outside, dozens more on the ramparts, and a heavy drawbridge seemed like the most likely candidate. Benyamin silently slipped over behind the six guards. No need to alert them, or their companions. Still invisible, Benyamin placed the daggers back into his boots, looked up, stifled a groan, and clasped the two remaining daggers, one in each hand. Slowly but surely, weighing his options before moving, Benyamin moved up the wall. He distanced himself from the pain of holding himself against it, concentrating on his next move. Thirty minutes later he was over the top, and looking down on the courtyard. Approximately thirty guards were milling about, drilling, talking, gambling, eating, and drinking. A slight smile curled over Benyamin's lips. He descended the stairs silently, and made his way into the Keep. He looked around slowly. To his left was a passage to a winding staircase, one that went down. Benyamin grinned and followed it. He silently slipped past the two guards stationed outside it, and went down the winding staircase. He passed five more guards, one at a time, at various points on the winding stairwell. Finally it leveled out to a dungeon. A block of cells lined the left wall, but most of them had open doors. Only three had closed doors, and of those three, only one had two heavily armed guards stationed on either side of the door.

Benyamin made no sound, but internally he lamented that it was hardly fair to be invisible and as naturally stealthy as he was. He shrugged, and walked up to the two guards. He silently took two long thin daggers from inside his cloak. These were made to go in through the ear canal, and into the brain without leaving an easily visible mark. It wouldn't take a highly trained surgeon to find the death wound, but neither would it be clearly obvious. Anybody from more than a few feet away would think the two guards were simply standing guard. The Assassin slammed the two daggers into each man's ear, then twisted, killing them instantly. He propped them up on their spears, stood back and examined his work critically. From more than three or so feet they looked just like two studious, or stupid, guards standing watch. He grinned and took the key ring from the elder of the two.

Benyamin slid the key into the lock and slipped inside the cell, closing the door silently behind him. He glanced around. One female mer, one male laying on her lap, and Aladur. He grinned.

Adopting the same accent he had used when he had first met Aladur,

"I am thinking that you are wanting, needing, yes needing, an ancient, elderly, old, yes old friend to help you out of this one."

[Zemkal]

Dralin looked around in confusion. Where did Benyamin go? He had started to walk down the hill, then simply disapeared. It wasn't invisibility magic, she could dpot that easily, and there was no way an item could simply make someone disapear that easily.

Dralin turned to the Psionist. "Does he do that often?"

[Aldares]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin extended his mind to the Ka'kari he carried with him. His material form seemed to shimmer and disappear. In reality, it was transported to another plane of existence. One of the more benign ones. His corporeal form meanwhile stayed in Cryodiil, and it could see, hear, taste, talk, and feel, just like a normal body. The only difference was that it couldn't be seen. So, he walked through the Dominion camp, toward the city, and his idiot friend. As Benyamin approached the walls, he gazed at them. High and no doubt solid, but old. The rock was still strong, but it was also very porous. Benyamin reached into his pockets and produced a brace of four specially pointed daggers. Two went into special sheaths on the bottom of his boots, leaving the broad tip poking two or so inches out. The other two he clasped in his hands. The Assassin grimaced and started to climb the wall. He slid the point of each dagger into each the crevices and nooks and crannies he could find, slowly climbing his way to the top. After almost an hour and a half of excruciating pain while climbing, Benyamin flipped himself up and over the ramparts. A nearby Imperial Guard stood, looking around warily. Benyamin slowly slid the two daggers out of the soles of his boots, and placed them all in their various hiding spots.

The Assassin took a ladder down from the ramparts to the ground, and looked around. A caslte, with six guards outside, dozens more on the ramparts, and a heavy drawbridge seemed like the most likely candidate. Benyamin silently slipped over behind the six guards. No need to alert them, or their companions. Still invisible, Benyamin placed the daggers back into his boots, looked up, stifled a groan, and clasped the two remaining daggers, one in each hand. Slowly but surely, weighing his options before moving, Benyamin moved up the wall. He distanced himself from the pain of holding himself against it, concentrating on his next move. Thirty minutes later he was over the top, and looking down on the courtyard. Approximately thirty guards were milling about, drilling, talking, gambling, eating, and drinking. A slight smile curled over Benyamin's lips. He descended the stairs silently, and made his way into the Keep. He looked around slowly. To his left was a passage to a winding staircase, one that went down. Benyamin grinned and followed it. He silently slipped past the two guards stationed outside it, and went down the winding staircase. He passed five more guards, one at a time, at various points on the winding stairwell. Finally it leveled out to a dungeon. A block of cells lined the left wall, but most of them had open doors. Only three had closed doors, and of those three, only one had two heavily armed guards stationed on either side of the door.

Benyamin made no sound, but internally he lamented that it was hardly fair to be invisible and as naturally stealthy as he was. He shrugged, and walked up to the two guards. He silently took two long thin daggers from inside his cloak. These were made to go in through the ear canal, and into the brain without leaving an easily visible mark. It wouldn't take a highly trained surgeon to find the death wound, but neither would it be clearly obvious. Anybody from more than a few feet away would think the two guards were simply standing guard. The Assassin slammed the two daggers into each man's ear, then twisted, killing them instantly. He propped them up on their spears, stood back and examined his work critically. From more than three or so feet they looked just like two studious, or stupid, guards standing watch. He grinned and took the key ring from the elder of the two.

Benyamin slid the key into the lock and slipped inside the cell, closing the door silently behind him. He glanced around. One female mer, one male laying on her lap, and Aladur. He grinned.

Adopting the same accent he had used when he had first met Aladur,

"I am thinking that you are wanting, needing, yes needing, an ancient, elderly, old, yes old friend to help you out of this one."

"You saved me the time of getting out of this cell quite gloriously. I'd say you owe me one." Aladur stood and gave his old friend a strong hug, burying Benyamin's face in his shoulder. He let go and signaled for the others to get up.

"Dominion's been doing my job well enough. I trust the Brotherhood is maiming, slaying, and taking names as I remember them? You look good for what you've been through."

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin snorted. "I owe you one? Please. Do you have any idea how painful it is to climb a solid wall with four daggers? You owe me. Big time. Now lets get you, and your new friends, out of here. I'm not exactly on the best of terms with your general, bit of a bitch her, but she seems to have put you out of business what with the besieging of cities and all."

He turned and started walking.

"Old smugglers tunnel is at the end of this block. Shouldn't have been found, it's not exactly in a conventional spot."

[Aldares]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

Benyamin snorted. "I owe you one? Please. Do you have any idea how painful it is to climb a solid wall with four daggers? You owe me. Big time. Now lets get you, and your new friends, out of here. I'm not exactly on the best of terms with your general, bit of a bitch her, but she seems to have put you out of business what with the besieging of cities and all."

He turned and started walking.

"Old smugglers tunnel is at the end of this block. Shouldn't have been found, it's not exactly in a conventional spot."

"We'll get Elenwen here to safety and then I'm coming with you. Not like I have much for me in the Dominion anymore. If I even dared show my face to our General I figure I'd get torn limb from limb while my entrails are strung about the rafters for decoration. Trust me, I've done it before. Very messy, but quite worth it. Considering my relative sanity, I believe she could come up with something much worse than that." Aladur picked up his fellow Altmer and took Elenwen by the hand, leading them in the halfway darkness to the tunnel's hole and climbing in.

"So how has your life been going?" Aladur smugly smiled and lifted his head while crawling.

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Bravil, Cryodiil

"Well I lost track of most of our merry group. Boran's dead last I heard. Thief's guild caught up with him I think. Babbette's still somewhere up north. Fianna has her own damn coven now. I'm here, and you're still trying to get yourself killed."

He turned down the tunnel.

"Also, you lot are some prize idiots. Four thousand to besiege six thousand? Twenty six thousand to fight twenty eight thousand? I mean for crying out loud, you can't win a fight like this."