Elder Scrolls: The Great War (IC)

[Vahvanti]

The Nord hesitated. He just found himself pinned to the ground by a small and scrawny Khajit, and all of Bravil lay witness to the the event that occured. Surely, he'd become a laughing stock if he doesn't fight back, but why bother when the cat is ready to cut through his throat with naught but his nails?

"F- Fine..." the Nord replied. "Neither you nor the elf would I question any further... But don't come running to me when this hovel burns to the ground."

[Lancearc]

The Nord hesitated. He just found himself pinned to the ground by a small and scrawny Khajit, and all of Bravil lay witness to the the event that occured. Surely, he'd become a laughing stock if he doesn't fight back, but why bother when the cat is ready to cut through his throat with naught but his nails?

"F- Fine..." the Nord replied. "Neither you nor the elf would I question any further... But don't come running to me when this hovel burns to the ground."

Jo'Rak nodded, standing and letting the Nord go on his way. He wiped a bit of blood from his claws but, for the most part, turned towards Niniel as if nothing had ever happened. "Either you're the luckiest woman in all of Tamriel or the most cursed of all right now." he said, referring to the Elf's tendency to get into trouble, and have someone to assist with the scuffle. "Come, let us hurry to get out of the open before any more rufifans decide to pay us a visit, eh?" he said, continuing their walk towards the figure of Captain Antioch sitting above the flow of people on his majestic white stallion. The captain spotted them coming from a ways off, and seemed to be awaiting the arrival of the scout and the explanation for his scout bringing along a Wood Elf.

As they approached, the captain strolled Snowfire towards the two that approached. "Well met Jo'Rak. I assume there were no Thalmor patrols?" he asked. Jo'Rak confirmed this with a shake of his head. "No, Captain."

Antioch nodded. "And who might this be?"

"This would be Niniel. She may be able to explain her presence here better than I, but we met on the road near Leyawiin."

The captain nodded. "So, Bosmer, what brings you here?"

[Videssos]

Caladan Velaryon,
Several miles North-west of Leyawiin,
Cyrodiil

Caladan paused as he and the mercenaries halted their horses in the forest. A strange tremor was heard in the distance, but he shook it off. This is becoming ominous.
He saw around eight Thalmor soldiers patrolling down a path through the nearby trees. It appeared to head in the direction of Leyawiin, and it looked like they'd captured a bloodied imperial soldier.
Caladan glanced the sell-swords under his command, and saw that they had positioned themselves behind a number of trees and bushes. He gestured, and four arrows from the archers in his employ flew straight at the Thalmor, cutting three of them down quickly, the other one collapsing as an arrow pinned the Aldmeri to a fallen log. The elves shouted in alarm as the mercenaries charged from behind the brush, a fireball and a few ice spikes flew towards the Thalmor; courtesy of the two mage mercenaries. The fireball killed one of the elves, whilst the ice spikes shredded two more. The battered imperial prisoner looked up, hope dawning suddenly in his eyes.

Caladan used his steel shield this time, and held his vampiric Daedric longsword in his right hand. The Thalmor commander, with a knife in one hand and an elven longsword in the other leapt forward to attack him. Caladan spun to the side as the High elf darted into where he was a second ago, the Daedric blade smashing the elven sword from the commander's hands, and a steel boot being rammed into the leader's left shin. The commander screamed as he collapsed, with the broken leg proving a hindrance for the struggling Thalmor. The remaining Thalmor soldier tried to flee, but promptly found a conjured dagger in the base of his neck, severing vertebrae and killing him instantly.

A nearby sword-for-hire strolled up to the imperial soldier; and at a nod from Caladan, untied the prisoner of the elves.

"My thanks, Breton." The imperial gasped.
"I advise you to travel back to Bravil now, as Leyawiin has obviously proved its lack of hospitality in regards to the new Aldmeri overlords of the recently captured city and the surrounding environs."

"I shall. Farewell and good luck in whatever task you wish." The Imperial replied, before standing up, stretching and taking an Elven battleaxe and a dagger from amongst the dead elves. The man then headed off through the forest, in the direction of Bravil.

Right, let's get to torturing the Thalmor commander of this small group- to find information of value, he thought; as eyed the unconscious warrior nearby.

[New Endenia]

Antonius suddenly fell to the ground, collapsing like a ragged doll. The energy surrounding him entered his body. The Marshall turned purple, with a black core at the centre. His eyes did the same; a black core, surrounded by purple. He stood up again and hovered about 10 cm off the ground. A tremor could be felt on the ground - not just in the forest but all across the County of Leyawiin. It weren't particularly strong, but everyone within Leyawiin would had felt it.

"Some call me a Demon" Antonius bellowed, in a deep voice which shook the forest. "Some fear me, ever vigilant after the events of 200 years ago. Your spells are useless against me mortal; try as you might, you won't be able to defeat me. I am Hermaeis Mora; I am Daedra. It wasn't Antonius who summoned you - it was I. I made him aware of you, for I am the Keeper of Knowledge and Antonius is my Champion - perhaps the greatest since the Hero of Cyrodiil himself. But his time is coming up; I seek a replacement. I see you Enelya, your ambition; you are loyal to no one but yourself. You have no Gods, just yourself. I like that; Antonius is a worshipper, one who hides his worship of I in fear of reprisal from all of Tamriel. I gave him is gifts, for he has helped me. All I ask for is your help. No loyalty, no worship. In turn, I shall help you - once you've proven yourself by helping me and then slaying Antonius to take his place. I have protected and aided him long enough now. Now it is your turn. I will return to you when the time is right; but tell me, what is it that you out of me?"

Enelya smiled, she did not expect this to happen at all. She paced around as she addressed the Daedra, "Indeed, even the most powerful mages in the history of this world cannot hope to match the might of the Daedra, not even me to say the least. Very well Hermaeis, you ask what I seek out of you? I seek power and knowledge. Power and knowledge to unmake the barriers of the world and leave it ripe for destruction and chaos. I seek to bring back the Dragons, to tear open the barriers between our world and Oblivion. That is what I seek. What does a Daedra seek?"

[Zemkal]

Dralin heard a rumble, and felt something was wrong.

She had been unable to focus on her meditation, and thus unable to fall into the void. She'd been mostly pacing since the encounter, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she felt it.

It was the presence of a Daedra. And it was close.

The Daedra had felt like an explosion, coming into life, but now that feeling was weakening. The presence was familiar, a dark entity for sure, yet very alien.

This had intrigued her. Dralin waited gor the presence to evaporate, then sat crossed legged in the middle of her cell once more, seeking advice from the void.

[Aldares]

Caladan Velaryon,
Several miles North-west of Leyawiin,
Cyrodiil

Caladan paused as he and the mercenaries halted their horses in the forest. A strange tremor was heard in the distance, but he shook it off. This is becoming ominous.
He saw around eight Thalmor soldiers patrolling down a path through the nearby trees. It appeared to head in the direction of Leyawiin, and it looked like they'd captured a bloodied imperial soldier.
Caladan glanced the sell-swords under his command, and saw that they had positioned themselves behind a number of trees and bushes. He gestured, and four arrows from the archers in his employ flew straight at the Thalmor, cutting three of them down quickly, the other one collapsing as an arrow pinned the Aldmeri to a fallen log. The elves shouted in alarm as the mercenaries charged from behind the brush, a fireball and a few ice spikes flew towards the Thalmor; courtesy of the two mage mercenaries. The fireball killed one of the elves, whilst the ice spikes shredded two more. The battered imperial prisoner looked up, hope dawning suddenly in his eyes.

Caladan used his steel shield this time, and held his vampiric Daedric longsword in his right hand. The Thalmor commander, with a knife in one hand and an elven longsword in the other leapt forward to attack him. Caladan spun to the side as the High elf darted into where he was a second ago, the Daedric blade smashing the elven sword from the commander's hands, and a steel boot being rammed into the leader's left shin. The commander screamed as he collapsed, with the broken leg proving a hindrance for the struggling Thalmor. The remaining Thalmor soldier tried to flee, but promptly found a conjured dagger in the base of his neck, severing vertebrae and killing him instantly.

A nearby sword-for-hire strolled up to the imperial soldier; and at a nod from Caladan, untied the prisoner of the elves.

"My thanks, Breton." The imperial gasped.
"I advise you to travel back to Bravil now, as Leyawiin has obviously proved its lack of hospitality in regards to the new Aldmeri overlords of the recently captured city and the surrounding environs."

"I shall. Farewell and good luck in whatever task you wish." The Imperial replied, before standing up, stretching and taking an Elven battleaxe and a dagger from amongst the dead elves. The man then headed off through the forest, in the direction of Bravil.

Right, let's get to torturing the Thalmor commander of this small group- to find information of value, he thought; as eyed the unconscious warrior nearby.

An Altmer wearing the telltale golden armor of the Dominion and a red hood emerged from behind a tree. He had only just arrived to the scene to back up his unit to find that it had been destroyed by an Breton, one of his favored races. He flashed back into a ready position once he had noted the assailants and placed his large hand on his sword. The red hood he wore hung over his eyes to mask the rage building up in the Altmer.

"Breton, stand back!"

[Videssos]

Caladan Velaryon,
Several miles North-west of Leyawiin,
Cyrodiil

Caladan paused as he and the mercenaries halted their horses in the forest. A strange tremor was heard in the distance, but he shook it off. This is becoming ominous.
He saw around eight Thalmor soldiers patrolling down a path through the nearby trees. It appeared to head in the direction of Leyawiin, and it looked like they'd captured a bloodied imperial soldier.
Caladan glanced the sell-swords under his command, and saw that they had positioned themselves behind a number of trees and bushes. He gestured, and four arrows from the archers in his employ flew straight at the Thalmor, cutting three of them down quickly, the other one collapsing as an arrow pinned the Aldmeri to a fallen log. The elves shouted in alarm as the mercenaries charged from behind the brush, a fireball and a few ice spikes flew towards the Thalmor; courtesy of the two mage mercenaries. The fireball killed one of the elves, whilst the ice spikes shredded two more. The battered imperial prisoner looked up, hope dawning suddenly in his eyes.

Caladan used his steel shield this time, and held his vampiric Daedric longsword in his right hand. The Thalmor commander, with a knife in one hand and an elven longsword in the other leapt forward to attack him. Caladan spun to the side as the High elf darted into where he was a second ago, the Daedric blade smashing the elven sword from the commander's hands, and a steel boot being rammed into the leader's left shin. The commander screamed as he collapsed, with the broken leg proving a hindrance for the struggling Thalmor. The remaining Thalmor soldier tried to flee, but promptly found a conjured dagger in the base of his neck, severing vertebrae and killing him instantly.

A nearby sword-for-hire strolled up to the imperial soldier; and at a nod from Caladan, untied the prisoner of the elves.

"My thanks, Breton." The imperial gasped.
"I advise you to travel back to Bravil now, as Leyawiin has obviously proved its lack of hospitality in regards to the new Aldmeri overlords of the recently captured city and the surrounding environs."

"I shall. Farewell and good luck in whatever task you wish." The Imperial replied, before standing up, stretching and taking an Elven battleaxe and a dagger from amongst the dead elves. The man then headed off through the forest, in the direction of Bravil.

Right, let's get to torturing the Thalmor commander of this small group- to find information of value, he thought; as eyed the unconscious warrior nearby.

An Altmer wearing the telltale golden armor of the Dominion and a red hood emerged from behind a tree. He had only just arrived to the scene to back up his unit to find that it had been destroyed by an Breton, one of his favored races. He flashed back into a ready position once he had noted the assailants and placed his large hand on his sword. The red hood he wore hung over his eyes to mask the rage building up in the Altmer.

"Breton, stand back!"

Caladan calmly gazed towards the lone High Elf warrior who sought to challenge him. He tightened his grip upon his Daedric sword. If he had to use Stormbringer, then he would. Alas; he would have less protection from ranged weaponry, as using his shield whilst wielding a two handed sword would be... problematic. So it would remain sheathed upon his back for the meantime.

The mercenaries already had their weapons readied, and eyed the lone Aldmeri soldier near the tree.

He replied to the fool's remark. "Why would I wish to stand back, Altmer?"

Caladan frowned. He detected that the strange feeling he'd felt earlier emanated from another part of the forest; not far away.
Daedric.
He had more than enough experience with those beings, and he recognised them when he felt them.

[Aldares]

An Altmer wearing the telltale golden armor of the Dominion and a red hood emerged from behind a tree. He had only just arrived to the scene to back up his unit to find that it had been destroyed by an Breton, one of his favored races. He flashed back into a ready position once he had noted the assailants and placed his large hand on his sword. The red hood he wore hung over his eyes to mask the rage building up in the Altmer.

"Breton, stand back!"

Caladan calmly gazed towards the lone High Elf warrior who sought to challenge him. He tightened his grip upon his Daedric sword. If he had to use Stormbringer, then he would. Alas; he would have less protection from ranged weaponry, as using his shield whilst wielding a two handed sword would be... problematic. So it would remain sheathed upon his back for the meantime.

The mercenaries already had their weapons readied, and eyed the lone Aldmeri soldier near the tree.

He replied to the fool's remark. "Why would I wish to stand back, Altmer?"

"You leave that Altmer alive. You must mean to do something with him, and seeing what you just did I assume you wish to pain him. Your Imperial toadies may not know compassion, but you are a Breton, one of the Chosen Races. Take pity on Erondil, for he is just a soldier. If you do not wish to give him up peacefully, I will handicap your expedition outright." Aladur kept a decently calm tone, but he was already making a plan to jump at the nearest mercenary, swing through him, start a flame in his left hand while he kicked the next, and roll for cover as he readied to fight the apparent leader of the group. This would be subject to change, but the humans were looking at a much more dangerous elf than the ones they had just killed...

[Videssos]

Caladan calmly gazed towards the lone High Elf warrior who sought to challenge him. He tightened his grip upon his Daedric sword. If he had to use Stormbringer, then he would. Alas; he would have less protection from ranged weaponry, as using his shield whilst wielding a two handed sword would be... problematic. So it would remain sheathed upon his back for the meantime.

The mercenaries already had their weapons readied, and eyed the lone Aldmeri soldier near the tree.

He replied to the fool's remark. "Why would I wish to stand back, Altmer?"

"You leave that Altmer alive. You must mean to do something with him, and seeing what you just did I assume you wish to pain him. Your Imperial toadies may not know compassion, but you are a Breton, one of the Chosen Races. Take pity on Erondil, for he is just a soldier. If you do not wish to give him up peacefully, I will handicap your expedition outright." Aladur kept a decently calm tone, but he was already making a plan to jump at the nearest mercenary, swing through him, start a flame in his left hand while he kicked the next, and roll for cover as he readied to fight the apparent leader of the group. This would be subject to change, but the humans were looking at a much more dangerous elf than the ones they had just killed...

"Of course I was going to leave him alive. For a while, at least." He smiled faintly. "Handicap my expedition? You might manage to kill a few mercenaries, but you won't find me so easy."

A combination of mundane and arcane ability would probably be required to take this one down, should he fight. Then again, I may have little choice to let him live, if he departs- alive, and ends up getting the aid of the entire Aldmeri army in Leyawiin, as well as the aid of the no doubt formidable leader of the aforementioned forces. It would not be good indeed.

[Aldares]

"You leave that Altmer alive. You must mean to do something with him, and seeing what you just did I assume you wish to pain him. Your Imperial toadies may not know compassion, but you are a Breton, one of the Chosen Races. Take pity on Erondil, for he is just a soldier. If you do not wish to give him up peacefully, I will handicap your expedition outright." Aladur kept a decently calm tone, but he was already making a plan to jump at the nearest mercenary, swing through him, start a flame in his left hand while he kicked the next, and roll for cover as he readied to fight the apparent leader of the group. This would be subject to change, but the humans were looking at a much more dangerous elf than the ones they had just killed...

"Of course I was going to leave him alive. For a while, at least." He smiled faintly. "Handicap my expedition? You might manage to kill a few mercenaries, but you won't find me so easy."

A combination of mundane and arcane ability would probably be required to take this one down, should he fight. Then again, I may have little choice to let him live, if he departs- alive, and ends up getting the aid of the entire Aldmeri army in Leyawiin, as well as the aid of the no doubt formidable leader of the aforementioned forces. It would not be good indeed.

"Leave him in my possession and I will leave to take him home. I promise you, there is no need for violence." Aladur gritted his teeth in anticipation of the either embrace of his commander or the embrace of an inevitable death at the hands of a brutish mercenary. Aladur had no love for the Imperials, but he believed that a right and proper Breton with some kind of sense would show his roots and allow a fellow Mer descendant his due. Erondil was a kind Altmer, and he was only doing his job. If Aladur could save one member of his unit, he would do so or die trying.

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin, Petnea, and Athrogate crept silently across the floorboards. In his days, and there were many, Benyamin had crept across floors enchanted to cry out if one beside their owner stepped on them, floors carved to sing with the beauty and piercing tones of a nightingale if the correct path were not walked. This stone floor held no risk for such a skilled assassin. The first, and last, warning the cell guard had before his life ended was hot air on the back of his neck. The man rubbed it irritably, then paused and sniffed the air, detecting a faint scent of garlic.

Benyamin's knife slid into the man's skull, snapped the brain stem, and killed the guard instantly. The Assassin lowered the man slowly, and stole the key ring from his belt. That done, the trio quickly moved to the cell, in which the duermer lay. Benyamin, with total silence, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and closed it just as quietly behind him. He spoke in a low tone.

"The Cavalry has arrived."

[Videssos]

"Of course I was going to leave him alive. For a while, at least." He smiled faintly. "Handicap my expedition? You might manage to kill a few mercenaries, but you won't find me so easy."

A combination of mundane and arcane ability would probably be required to take this one down, should he fight. Then again, I may have little choice to let him live, if he departs- alive, and ends up getting the aid of the entire Aldmeri army in Leyawiin, as well as the aid of the no doubt formidable leader of the aforementioned forces. It would not be good indeed.

"Leave him in my possession and I will leave to take him home. I promise you, there is no need for violence." Aladur gritted his teeth in anticipation of the either embrace of his commander or the embrace of an inevitable death at the hands of a brutish mercenary. Aladur had no love for the Imperials, but he believed that a right and proper Breton with some kind of sense would show his roots and allow a fellow Mer descendant his due. Erondil was a kind Altmer, and he was only doing his job. If Aladur could save one member of his unit, he would do so or die trying.

Caladan grimaced. Hopefully this was one of the more honourable elves. One that hopefully wouldn't report to that leader- Enelya, as soon as they travelled to Leyawiin.
"As you wish."
He sheathed his Daedric blade, gestured, and two mercenaries- a Nord, and an Orc picked up the unconscious body and propped Erondil up against a nearby tree.
"Restoration magic was never my speciality, so you or one of your healer friends will probably have to repair the broken leg."

[Aldares]

"Leave him in my possession and I will leave to take him home. I promise you, there is no need for violence." Aladur gritted his teeth in anticipation of the either embrace of his commander or the embrace of an inevitable death at the hands of a brutish mercenary. Aladur had no love for the Imperials, but he believed that a right and proper Breton with some kind of sense would show his roots and allow a fellow Mer descendant his due. Erondil was a kind Altmer, and he was only doing his job. If Aladur could save one member of his unit, he would do so or die trying.

Caladan grimaced. Hopefully this was one of the more honourable elves. One that hopefully wouldn't report to that leader- Enelya, as soon as they travelled to Leyawiin.
"As you wish."
He sheathed his Daedric blade, gestured, and two mercenaries- a Nord, and an Orc picked up the unconscious body and propped Erondil up against a nearby tree.
"Restoration magic was never my speciality, so you or one of your healer friends will probably have to repair the broken leg."

"You have shown your superior heritage. The Eight will reward you, should you so be inclined to do their will, as you have today." Aladur cautiously placed his sword against a tree for a moment and crept up his commander. Cracking his fingers, Aladur's gaze became a focused squint as he put effort into a healing magic that was taught to most of the Thalmor soldiers.

Erondil awoke hazily to one of his favorite friends, a fellow Altmer. His expression turned from glee to surprise and then to fear, but he was reassured by Aladur that it was alright, and that he had bargained for their safety. Erondil thought to spit on the shoes of the men who had broken his leg, but was restrained by Aladur's calm hands as he was helped up.

Aladur took Erondil's hand and led him a few yards away from the mercs and their leader.

"The Divines repay kindness. Remember that." And the two began their trip to Leyawiin, where they could rest up and regain their facilities.

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin, Petnea, and Athrogate crept silently across the floorboards. In his days, and there were many, Benyamin had crept across floors enchanted to cry out if one beside their owner stepped on them, floors carved to sing with the beauty and piercing tones of a nightingale if the correct path were not walked. This stone floor held no risk for such a skilled assassin. The first, and last, warning the cell guard had before his life ended was hot air on the back of his neck. The man rubbed it irritably, then paused and sniffed the air, detecting a faint scent of garlic.

Benyamin's knife slid into the man's skull, snapped the brain stem, and killed the guard instantly. The Assassin lowered the man slowly, and stole the key ring from his belt. That done, the trio quickly moved to the cell, in which the duermer lay. Benyamin, with total silence, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and closed it just as quietly behind him. He spoke in a low tone.

"The Cavalry has arrived."

"Hermaeus Mora, child. A sweet but stern voice whispered to Dralin from within the void, before another's voice tore her from her natural home.

Dralin looked up at the one before her. Decked in Brotherhood armor, and flanked by a smaller man and a woman. This was the calvary, then?

"I assume you were sent by the brotherhood?" She asked skeptically, standing up. She looked at the corpse of her capture for the last half of her enslavement. She then looked back to this man, without standing. "So tell me, why do you search me out now?"

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin let out a long chuckle. "Sent? Sister I am the Dark Brotherhood. Benyamin Do'urden, member of the Black Hand. Last with dust on his boots and blood on his blades and all that. Why do we seek you out? Well actually this is more of a happy coincidence. My psionist was looking through the minds of Leyawiin's captors, I'm sure you understand why, and brushed against yours. She told me, while I was on my way here, and tada. The Cavalry. Now let's move. I'd prefer to kill a few more guards for imprisoning one of us, but we're already behind schedule."

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin let out a long chuckle. "Sent? Sister I am the Dark Brotherhood. Benyamin Do'urden, member of the Black Hand. Last with dust on his boots and blood on his blades and all that. Why do we seek you out? Well actually this is more of a happy coincidence. My psionist was looking through the minds of Leyawiin's captors, I'm sure you understand why, and brushed against yours. She told me, while I was on my way here, and tada. The Cavalry. Now let's move. I'd prefer to kill a few more guards for imprisoning one of us, but we're already behind schedule."

Dralin's mind flooded with hope, but was immediatly bashed down by a dozen highly trained Battle Mages rushing down the stairs. "Well, heres your chance at that. Good luck." She said, not lifting a finger as the guards rushed in.

She wouldn't have helped, even if she wasn't bound like the chained dog she was. If she were to actually attempt another escape after two years of obidiance, she wanted to make sure she travelled with worthy allies...

[Wolfmanne]

Antonius suddenly fell to the ground, collapsing like a ragged doll. The energy surrounding him entered his body. The Marshall turned purple, with a black core at the centre. His eyes did the same; a black core, surrounded by purple. He stood up again and hovered about 10 cm off the ground. A tremor could be felt on the ground - not just in the forest but all across the County of Leyawiin. It weren't particularly strong, but everyone within Leyawiin would had felt it.

"Some call me a Demon" Antonius bellowed, in a deep voice which shook the forest. "Some fear me, ever vigilant after the events of 200 years ago. Your spells are useless against me mortal; try as you might, you won't be able to defeat me. I am Hermaeis Mora; I am Daedra. It wasn't Antonius who summoned you - it was I. I made him aware of you, for I am the Keeper of Knowledge and Antonius is my Champion - perhaps the greatest since the Hero of Cyrodiil himself. But his time is coming up; I seek a replacement. I see you Enelya, your ambition; you are loyal to no one but yourself. You have no Gods, just yourself. I like that; Antonius is a worshipper, one who hides his worship of I in fear of reprisal from all of Tamriel. I gave him is gifts, for he has helped me. All I ask for is your help. No loyalty, no worship. In turn, I shall help you - once you've proven yourself by helping me and then slaying Antonius to take his place. I have protected and aided him long enough now. Now it is your turn. I will return to you when the time is right; but tell me, what is it that you out of me?"

Enelya smiled, she did not expect this to happen at all. She paced around as she addressed the Daedra, "Indeed, even the most powerful mages in the history of this world cannot hope to match the might of the Daedra, not even me to say the least. Very well Hermaeis, you ask what I seek out of you? I seek power and knowledge. Power and knowledge to unmake the barriers of the world and leave it ripe for destruction and chaos. I seek to bring back the Dragons, to tear open the barriers between our world and Oblivion. That is what I seek. What does a Daedra seek?"

"What does a Daedra seek?" the Daedra possessed body of Antonius spoke. "That is not for a Mortal to know. Destiny has brought Lord Naarifin to Bravil and he shall lay siege to it. Once you storm the city in time, the statue of the Lucky Old Lady must be destroyed, for it houses the remains of the Night Mother. The biggest threat to you and I is not the Empire, the Blades or Talos, it is the Dark Brotherhood. It is you who shall bring their end in Cyrodiil. I will return to you again, after the Lucky Old Lady has been destroyed. Some would had felt my presence and perhaps they will be an aid or a threat to you. Beware, for not everyone will like our... conversations".

Antonius disappeared, promptly ending the meeting.

---

Imperial City
Imperial Place
Cyrodiil
4E 171, Second of Sun's Dusk

"Your Imperial Majesty" a Breton Commander of the Penitus Oculatus screamed running into the throne room. "The Imperial Battlemage has been murdered by Altmer Battlemages. Yes, the great Ocato himself is dead".

Two Agents dragged a man, who appeared weak. He was a tall Altmer, who wore black robes and a black hood, like any old mage. He had a face-mask on him, concealing his identity but also blinding him. Perhaps a member of the Dark Brotherhood, but more likely to be a Thalmor agent. He gave groan, before the Commander gave him a kick in the and administered a Magicka Poison, in case he tried anything. She spat on him, roughing him up before his interrogation.

"Should you defy Imperial authority" she begun. "That will happen again. Now, tell Your Emperor why your saw it necessary to kill a mer of your blood".

The Altmer breathed heavily, not answering until he got another kick in the face. The Commander, frustrated, broke one of his legs by snapping at it, which resulted it in a large groan. The Emperor was yet to speak, but from his face, he seemed horrified. The Commander wasn't sure if it was because of the death of Ocato, the torture in front of him or a combination of both.

"Very well" the Altmer begun. "But bare in mind, I profess no loyalty to your bastard of a Emp -". Before he could finish, the Commander broke his other leg, then used some Sparks to quieten him once more. The Emperor raised his hand, calling for an end to the torture. The Commander bowed and shoved him to the floor.

"I am a sleeper agent of the Thalmor and proud of it" he continued. "I have lived here for most of my life, blending into society. I did quite well, for no one caught me. I joined the Dark Brotherhood at a young age but I do not worship Sithis any more. For years, everyone knew me as the local alchemist in the Imperial City, but I was a killer, striking whenever the Brotherhood needed me. As soon as the war begun, I got my orders; kill Ocato. I did so successfully and he died peacefully. Poison is silent, as am I. Now, I have told you all that you need to know, Your Imperial Majesty". He burst into ashes, leaving behind his clothes and a flashing amulet. The Commander picked up and took a look at it.

"I guess the Amulet dissolved him" she said. "The Arcane University will be interested in this one, talking of which, shall I arrange a replacement Imperial Battlemage".

The Emperor stood up and picked up the ashes in one hand, putting it in a goblet. He gave it to one of his Oculatus bodyguards, telling him to 'dump in the waters of Imperial City'.

"Yes, I have a scroll with a short list of potential Imperial Battlemages" the Emperor replied. "I prayed to the Divines every night that I would never have to use it. No one can replace Ocato. He shall receive the finest funeral, one that shall be mourned across the country".

---

Bravil
Outside the walls of Bravil
Cyrodiil
4E 171, Fourteenth of Sun's Dusk

The city had been surrounded, although it no longer looked like a city. Archers were posted on the walls and the city looked well defended. It would be a tough city to take and who knows what lay inside? The citizens, after Leyawiin, would have heard about the events of Leyawiin, how citizens were massacred. They would be desperate, desperate for their lives. Once they took Bravil, they could continue their advance through Cyrodiil, allowing Lady Anelya unhindered access into Hammerfell. He still doubted that he would be able to take the Imperial City, however these was talk amongst the Army that the Imperial City would fall next year. As strong as the Dominion Army had proven, he saw that as unlikely. The Imperials weren't ready; soon, Legions would be mobilised and as soon as the Empire transitioned into a war economy, they would be ready. The water would be a hassle, limiting them to a frontal attack in Northwest Bravil. However they would be prepared; fire arrows would rain down upon their sieges tower, oil will be poured onto mer climbing siege tower, the walls would had been reinforced against magic and artillery and his mines would be intercepted by counter-mining. Since they would only enter through the Northwest, all the Bravilians had to do was fire volley after volley of arrows. High casualties were likely.

"Lord Naarifin, we believe that we would be ready the assault the city by the end of year" a Lieutenant informed him. "The garrison seems to be a high numbers, we estimate a full Legion and the City Guard to be defending the city, for a total of 6,000 men, along with the city population, who would likely put up a resistance. However with 30,000 men, we outnumber them 15:3 - at least the military numbers, sir".

Lord Naarifin didn't like those numbers; the entrance into the city would be a killing field. Besieging them into either sallying or into a surrender was the only option they had. Even with control of the Green Road, they would still have to send more men then usual to patrol the supply lines, further limiting the ratio, perhaps as low as 15:3. If the Imperials sent an Army, which, considering the full strength of Cyrodiil, could number up to 40,000 - although that depended on how efficient they were. At total of 66,000 mer had been committed to the initial assault; 30,000 in his and the Lady Anelya's army, 6,000 in the Hammerfell Expeditionary Force. He'd expect the numbers to increase. On paper, they were doomed; however, a Dominion army was not an Imperial army. The regular soldier had some basic skill in magic and usually had his hands free, for he could conjure up a sword and a shield. The armour was light but it was just about the strength of regular Imperial armour. Their weapons were slightly stronger then the Imperials, as proven in training. However, they had more room for flexibility and battle winning manoeuvres in comparison to the Dominion, and most of his men was lost to a Skirmishers' arrow rather than a Legionnaire's sword.

---

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.

[Lancearc]

Jo'Rak stood in one of the watch towers, his bow in hand with a nocked arrow. He leaned against one of the rails at the top of the tower, his tail hanging out of it, swaying in a light breeze from the Niben Bay. He simply stared out at the horizon, watching, waiting. Waiting for what, he knew not. Maybe he was waiting for a fireball to fly over the horizon, ending his life in a quick split second. Perhaps he was waiting for a Thalmor army to march towards him, and he'd warn the others. And maybe he was waiting for nothing at all. He sniffed the air. The foul smell of Bravil followed, but he'd grown accustomed to it. It smelled especially since all of the soldiers had set up in the town.

It had been a while since he'd brought the Bosmer to camp, so he figured she'd moved on, though that seemed unlikely since she was looking for work and work was scarce around Cyrodiil, unless she moved on to another province all together. However he'd not seen hide nor hair of her since that day. He didn't take a lot of time to ponder that though, as he stared straight ahead, a vigilant sentry scanning the distance for danger.

[North Banrodesia]

'Heave!' An overseer bellowed out as a cluster of burly imperial men hoisted a giant wooden bar in front of the door, to reinforce it with the three other bars bolstering the gate. Barricades had been set out in a semi-circle around the gates with archers and mages stationed all around, readying their weapons into the enclosed half-circle, filled with traps of both magic and physical properties. As Isratial observed the city, it's defences and only gate, he began to wonder; Maybe Bravil could hold out, and if it did fall, it would take down many a Thalmor along with it.

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin whirled, and leaped forward, his Scimitars swinging. Petnea closed here eyes and concentrated. At that moment, four of the battlemages, no mental armor prepared, fell dead. Athrogate charged into the fray next, Morningstars swinging. He spun and twisted and smashed the spiked balls of his weapons into his enemy's knees, ribs, and heads. One unfortunate battlemage took the full force of two morningstars to opposite sides of the head. It exploded in a shower of gore. Benyamin spun, seemingly more a dancer than a fighter, so elegant were his strikes. The sheer speed with which he delivered death was what gave the trio the edge in battle, the mages having not enough time to enact more than one spell before they were in close combat. Of the twelve, two were killed by eachother's magic. With the four Petnea had killed that left six. Athrogate accounted for two, and Benyamin the remaining four.

They turned back to the dunmer.

"Time. To. Go."

[Zemkal]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin whirled, and leaped forward, his Scimitars swinging. Petnea closed here eyes and concentrated. At that moment, four of the battlemages, no mental armor prepared, fell dead. Athrogate charged into the fray next, Morningstars swinging. He spun and twisted and smashed the spiked balls of his weapons into his enemy's knees, ribs, and heads. One unfortunate battlemage took the full force of two morningstars to opposite sides of the head. It exploded in a shower of gore. Benyamin spun, seemingly more a dancer than a fighter, so elegant were his strikes. The sheer speed with which he delivered death was what gave the trio the edge in battle, the mages having not enough time to enact more than one spell before they were in close combat. Of the twelve, two were killed by eachother's magic. With the four Petnea had killed that left six. Athrogate accounted for two, and Benyamin the remaining four.

They turned back to the dunmer.

"Time. To. Go."

Dralin nodded, impressed. "Well, we should probably move then." She held up her bound hands. "I don't suppose either of you know a spell strong enough to break these? Can't exactly be broken with force, and there is no key.". She stood uo, eyeing the dead bodies, a strange sensation coming over her, which she forced down. "Otherwise, I'm almost useless."

A small smirk crossed her face. "Almost."

[New Endenia]

Enelya watched in silence as the Marshall disappeared. She was intrigued what this Daedra was planning yet at the same time she was wondering could she outsmart one of the the Daedra? She pondered over the task that the Daedra set out for her, destroying a statue seems easy enough. Lord Naarifin would have already arrived and indeed might have marched off towards Bravil, she must immediately join them, Leyawiin has fallen to the Domi-

She whirled around to face the fallen city, something had entered the city. Something unnatural and dark has penetrated the castle. Enelya's eyes turned dark as she channeled her fastest displacement spells, she needed to get to the basement of the castle at once. Her body dissolved into a deep black mist and it flowed like water towards the castle, it seeped through all the cracks and door gaps in the city and the castle. Shocking servants and Thalmor soldiers as the black mist sank into the ground and started gathering in the dungeons.

Enelya reformed her body as a Thalmor Battle mage rushed past her, running down a corridor, she can hear shouts and sense the usage of magics. She snapped her fingers and froze one of the battle-mages feet. "Soldier. Stop. What is going on?"

"Great One. There has been an intruder in the dungeons. We believe it to be a member of the Dark Brotherhood, he is in the cell with the elven...beast."

Enelya eyebrows arched slightly, "Dark Brotherhood....I see, continue on soldier. Inform the soldiers infront that I am coming personally to settle this." She snapped her fingers and unfroze the Battle Mage's legs.

"Yes Great One."

Enelya summoned out her black staff and was about to start walking when she noticed that her attire was...battered. The battle with the Marshall was more intense than she expected. She dusted her sleeves and snapped her fingers once more. Black mist gathered around her as black tendrils enveloped her, transforming her outfit, her Thalmor officer uniform changed into something different from a standard Thalmor uniform. Replacing it was now a trenchcoat like outfit with long black sleeves, complete with the Thalmor gold markings depicting her rank.

"This will do." She walked out of the black mist and continued on to the prison cells. She heard more shouting and cries of pain. "I really need better Thalmor soldiers...." She muttered as she layered on several wards and barriers on herself as a precaution. As she got closer to the cell, she could see several dead Thalmor soldiers on the ground and several individuals in the cell along with the elf.

She slowly clapped her hands. "Very....very....hmm...impressive." She stood at the doorway, blocking their exits. "The Dark Brotherhood I presume?"

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin rolled his eyes. "For the love of... yes. Okay? Happy? For the love of the thrice damned gods is there no end to the god forsaken mer in this place! Stupid question I know, in a Thalmor fortress, in a Thalmor City, but still. A man has his limits! I've already slaughtered..." He paused, his eyes rolled upward, and he appeared deep in thought.

"Lets see, I did for four, add the guard, plus those two sentries... Yup. Seven of you already. My short friend did for two, and my lady friend in the back did four. Thirteen. Want to go for fourteen? Really we'd just as soon walk out of here and out of your hair, but hey. Your call." As he spoke Benyamin engaging in mental dialogue with Petnea, but gave no outward sign.

What is she?
Mage, powerful.
Chances of our getting past?
...
Well?
I was checking the status of her mind.
And?
She doesn't have support coming.

[New Endenia]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin rolled his eyes. "For the love of... yes. Okay? Happy? For the love of the thrice damned gods is there no end to the god forsaken mer in this place! Stupid question I know, in a Thalmor fortress, in a Thalmor City, but still. A man has his limits! I've already slaughtered..." He paused, his eyes rolled upward, and he appeared deep in thought.

"Lets see, I did for four, add the guard, plus those two sentries... Yup. Seven of you already. My short friend did for two, and my lady friend in the back did four. Thirteen. Want to go for fourteen? Really we'd just as soon walk out of here and out of your hair, but hey. Your call." As he spoke Benyamin engaging in mental dialogue with Petnea, but gave no outward sign.

What is she?
Mage, powerful.
Chances of our getting past?
...
Well?
I was checking the status of her mind.
And?
She doesn't have support coming.

"Oh don't bother trying to penetrate my mind, I know one of you is a pisonic. My wards are able to repulse mental invasions. Good job killing my men though, why are you all going through so much trouble killing my troops to get her?"

As she said that, she tapped the floor with her staff, opening a secret passageway on the wall opposite her. "Oh there is your exit. It will bring you outside the city. Convenient isn't it? Oh don't bother trying to get away, there are explosive wards all over the tunnel. Answer me and I'll let you go. Yes you can take the elf, she is Dominion property anyway, I'll get her back eventually."

"So. Why her?"

[Spetznaz Assault Teams]

Benyamin Do'urden
The Dark Brotherhood
Leyawiin, Cyrodiil

Benyamin stared her straight in the eye. "We don't leave our own behind." He paused. "Also. Perhaps it is time for you and myself to be acquainted properly Miss Enelya. A woman of your beauty has the right to know. My name is Nameless, most powerful of the Black Hand. My name is Son of Sithis, he-who-walks-unseen. My name is Benyamin Do'urden, last of the Five with the dirt of the road on his boots and the blood of his foes on his blades. At a later date, dinner and drinks is on me."