The Elder Scrolls RP: The 4th Era[IC,OPEN]

[Communist republic of altorus]

2 weeks later

Talib, arrives in Northern Hammerfell and begins to with the help of the dark brotherhood, organise prostitution and skooma selling. This will allow Talib to make a large army possible. This army will be professional and not mercenaries. They will serve as Talib's bodyguard.

[Rightful Revolution]

Markath

The journey to Markath was quick and unadventurous to any extent of what Pyat was accustomed too. Markath, a city built out of stone into towering cliffs, was always remarkable to Pyat. While he had innate hatred for the Dwemer presence, the actual environment was surreal and always calming. Except for this particular occasion, where Pyat was shocked to find Talos worshippers and the Forsworn freely strolling the streets. "Perhaps more has happened here than I orginally thought," Pyat muttered to himself. He lodged his horse in the stables and then attempted to enter the city. "Oy! No one enters the city without ID or inspection!" A guard blared at Pyat, who was taken back in surprise. "I am not Human and therefore not involved in our troubles!" Pyat responded, guessing the coup had lead to the new government rooting out certain Human interests. "Remove your robe! Prepare for a search!" The guard yelled, motioning for two other guards to come assist. "Forget it I'm leaving!" Pyat said, turning around briskly. "Stop! Men! Trouble!" The guards quickly tackled Pyat, who put up a strong fight but resisted using lethal magic, because, after all, he was probably being hunted by the Empire. "Gotcha!" A guard yelled, whisking of Pyat's cloak. "By Talos!" The guard stuttered, "Get him this elf into custody!"

[Elerian]

Markath

The journey to Markath was quick and unadventurous to any extent of what Pyat was accustomed too. Markath, a city built out of stone into towering cliffs, was always remarkable to Pyat. While he had innate hatred for the Dwemer presence, the actual environment was surreal and always calming. Except for this particular occasion, where Pyat was shocked to find Talos worshippers and the Forsworn freely strolling the streets. "Perhaps more has happened here than I orginally thought," Pyat muttered to himself. He lodged his horse in the stables and then attempted to enter the city. "Oy! No one enters the city without ID or inspection!" A guard blared at Pyat, who was taken back in surprise. "I am not Human and therefore not involved in our troubles!" Pyat responded, guessing the coup had lead to the new government rooting out certain Human interests. "Remove your robe! Prepare for a search!" The guard yelled, motioning for two other guards to come assist. "Forget it I'm leaving!" Pyat said, turning around briskly. "Stop! Men! Trouble!" The guards quickly tackled Pyat, who put up a strong fight but resisted using lethal magic, because, after all, he was probably being hunted by the Empire. "Gotcha!" A guard yelled, whisking of Pyat's cloak. "By Talos!" The guard stuttered, "Get him this elf into custody!"

The doors to the keep were thrust open as a small group of guards hauled in a very pale looking person. A small growing procession of people followed closely behind them. Jerick looked up from his work and briskly walked to them before the situation turned sour.
"Who is this?"
"Some elf who resisted arrest sir."
"What did he do wrong in the first place?"
"He refused to be inspected before entering sir."
"Bring him to my chambers ill have a chat with him."

A few minutes later they were alone besides two guards standing at the door. Jerick inspected the elf. He didn't resemble and elf he had ever seen. So what could he be?
"What kind of being are you?"

[Rightful Revolution]

Markath

"I am the Reclaimer for my people, I mean you and your city no harm," Pyat muttered, or more closely half-whispered to the inquisitor, keeping his head down and attention focused to the floor.

[Al-Quarra]

As Achrab enterd the keep a few guards with an elf rushed towards the Jarl, Achrab desided to wait and listen, however he was glad to see Jerrick being well.

[Communist republic of altorus]

Talib, arrives in a small town, and begins a speech, already a small crowd of 50 people has formed. He begins the speech in the hot desert sun.

"The empire, all those years ago, sold us out to the thalmor, who in turn wrecked Hammerfell, do you, want to live under the shadow of a regime of elves, who mock us, or do you want revenge"

People hear these words and soon 258 people have gathered to listen to the speech. They all shout encouragement to Talib. They then say "we want revenge, against the elven scum"

Soon he ends the speech, and returns to his home, a small stone house.

[Sil Arion]

Note: To give some manner of timescale to this mess, I will include such in each of my posts. Please notify me immediately if the timescale seems odd, or the date is off. I would be grateful if other players did the same, so perhaps we could clean this up a bit. Cheers!

0:00, 1st of Morning Star, 4E 201

He awoke. In the dark and the cold, his eyes opened to meet the black of night. For a moment, but the blink of an eye, he still floated there in the center of the lightless room, encased in the pillar of ice that had been his place of rest for untold years. And in the moment, his mind comprehended his circumstances in all completion.

He had no name. No identity to call his own. Who am I?

The ice shattered. His body fell, muscles stiff from countless years spent surrounded in frost and cold. For a the longest second in his brief awakening he knew pain. Pain like a burning ice that crawled across every minute part of his body. He felt as if an acid of greatest potency was poured into each nerve ending. His eyes were squeezed shut to stave off the horrible feeling, body curled up on the frozen floor of stone and ice, seizures wracking his lithe frame and his body covered in a cold sweat. It hurt. So badly. And then it vanished.

He opened his eyes once more, becoming instantly accustomed to the near total darkness, just a feeble aura of light emanating from his own nude body as he carefully raised his body from the floor. Despite the frozen surfaces of the room, he realized he was not likewise covered in frost. A strange observation. He looked down at himself, raising his hands in front of him, waggling his fingers; long and slender, but strong as he clenched them tightly into fists. His hair fell freely down his shoulders as he stood, silken and of the purest white. Thin waves of cold air and frost flowed off his form, and he inhaled deeply. Exhaling, he saw his breath as a puff of air colder than anything in the room thus far, freezing the stone of the altar in front of him.

A voice in his head that was strangely there, but not at all, whispered to him, guiding him as if by divine hand around to the front of the altar. It was golden in color, shaped like a sun? He was not sure how he knew that, as he'd never seen a sun before, or at least couldn't remember having thus far seen one.

Or, at least, not in my own memory.

Many other questions about everything fitted through his mind like a flock of a thousand birds. Too many to count, too many to possibly answer now. So he thrust them aside for later perusal, carefully guiding to the back of his mind. The strange sense of guidance seemed trustworthy, and so he followed its direction. Leaning down, beads of frozen sweat falling off his form in a tinkling sprinkle of tiny ice beads, he pressed a circular piece of stone in the center of the altar. Pushing it in, the front of the altar then retracted beneath him, and he glimpsed a hidden room. Small, even colder, but somehow more - welcoming?

The sense lead him forward and within he found an absolutely beautiful set of what he recognized to be armor. He extended a hand, caressing the smooth surface that somehow redirected the dim silver-white light emanating from his lithe form. It was silvery grey in color, and astonishing to behold, as one might look upon a predator in the height of its power. Other clothing hung on similar pedestals of icy stone; silken and thin robes and undergarments of some sort. He followed his feelings and slipped it all on in a manner that just felt right.

At last, in after several long moments he was fully dressed in his splendid armor, a silvery cloth masquerading the lower half of his face and a deep hood pulled over his head, a long silver-white cloak wrapped around his slender frame. He once more trusted his instincts, his thin-gloved hands running over a set of weapons perched on stands just above the pedestals. Once more, as divinely beautiful as they were deadly. With hands that remembered practices he himself had no memory of, he placed them on his frame in the right spots. He felt complete now, as though parts of his own body, mind, and soul had been returned to him. As if these wares he now wore and wielded were forged by his own hand.

One final thing remained in the small hidden under-space: a satchel of sorts, made of the same silken and silvery material as his garments. He unclasped the fastenings, and withdrew from within an ancient journal, the light grey cover worn and withered. And he began to read...

[Al-Quarra]

Achrab desided to leave, he saw that Jerrick was busy. He headed back to Falkreath.
At arrival the General told him the reinforcements would arrive soon. Achrab was glad with the news but he had other consins, The General told him that it would be good if Achrab would head to Hammerfell himself, so the other leaders would know who controlled Falkreath. Achrab agreed, as soon as the reinforcements arrived he would leave for Hammerfell, the General named Mussah would be the leader of Falkreath as long as Achrab was away.

[Communist republic of altorus]

After the speech, around 12 Redguard males, walk over slowly to Talib, who is heading back to his house. The Redguards walk up to Talib and begin speaking.

"Sir, we wish to join you, in revenge against the thalmor"

"you can"

"visit my house tomorrow and we will discuss it further"

Meanwhile the skooma and prostitiution services are generated large amounts of income, which Talib stores in a chest, for the day his army needs equipment.

[Al-Quarra]

Falkreath, 7:00, 2nd of Morning Star, 4E 201

At a morning the general rushed in, "Get up!" he said. Achrab quickly got up and dressed, he then followed the general to a cliff west of Falkreath. There he couldn't believe his eyes. The reinforcements had arrived. Achrab looked at them, 500 redguard soldiers, one of the very few real diciplinned armies of Hammerfell. Around the corner suddenly a Giant scorpion arrived, This was a view Achrab would never forget, such powerfull animal. And it didn't stayed with that one, 7 more followed. Achrab and General Mussah walked down to Falkreath and orderd that everything needed to be ready. Quickly all of Falkreath was one big chaos. In the meanwhile Achrab and Mussah walked outside, and there the army came.
"Who's the man in charge?" One man asked. "I am, Welcome to the city of Falkreath, I'm Achrab and this is General Mussah" Achrab replied. "Thank you my friend, I am Capitan Hurran" the man replied. As the soldiers passed through the gates General Mussah walked up to the Capitan, "Where are the other two scorpions?" he asked. "They escaped sir, we don't know how but they managed to release their claws. we had to let them go at that point" the Capitan answerd. "Very well then, we can live with that" the General said.
Alot happend that day, orders flew around like the ale.. Outposts where made, the wall need to be improved and the city needed to be bigger. As the day slowely came to an end Achrab desided to leave some orders for the upcoming weaks. The next morning Achrab would leave for Hammerfell, he would take 20 soldiers with him, the rest would stay under leading of General Mussah to protect the city. Achrab also wrote a letter to his friend in Markarth.

My friend Jerrick,

I am leaving for some time, making myself known in Hammefell. I just want to let you know that if there is any problem, just send a letter to Falkreath. General Mussah will be glad to help you out.

Your friend, Achrab

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Imperial Legion, Pale Pass 13:00 2nd of Morning Star, 4E 201

A giant Imperial Legion force had assembled at Pale Pass, originaly to support the fight against the Stormcloaks. However, word had just arrived that Falkreath had been taken. Forces from the North of Skyrim were already on their way, and now their army would be sent to attack Falkreath from the south. After Falkreath had been reclaimed, an attack would be launched at Whiterun. One of the Legates looked behind him, to the banners of the Aldmeri Dominion, and the warriors clad in Elven armour that were positioned around them. Following the recent attacks, the Dominion had decided to send reinforcements to Skyrim and, more importantly, that no Stormcloak could get even get through the Imperial Holds. Since Falkreath had been taken, they would aid the Legion in the attack.

Imperial Legion, Morthal, 12:30 2nd of Morning Star, 4E 201

Ildoni Amatius sat on his horse, and rode alongside the other cavalry forces of the Legion, and the foot soldiers mounted in carts, or running behind the rest of the army. On his back hung the Wabbajack. An old souvenir from Solitude. Heh.

[Partially Blind People]

2nd of Morning Star, 4E 201

Umbacalm awoke with a gasp. A thunderstorm of pain ripped through his head, intent on causing the devastating consequences of overusing his magic. Despite this, it had to be done. He could not have let the snow elves rule over Solitude and Skyrim. His limbs felt as though they were on fire as he gingerly tested rising from his bed. He had no idea who had put him there or where exactly he was. For all he knew, he was inside a cave where his body had been prepared for a necromancers experiments, or perhaps a dragon of old had carried him away and wished to feast on him and absorb his soul. He slowly opened his weary eyes to the well-lit interior of a room inside Solitude's Blue Palace. A plate of food, mainly horker meat, had been prepared for him and sat on his bedside table alongside a jug of water that had freshly broken pieces of the sea's ice floating atop it. His room was walled with old, partially weathered stone bricks and the floor was covered with a mix of straw and animal skins. His armour lay in a bundle on the ground in the corner with his sword carefully propped up by the hilt on the wall. Umbacalm attempted to cast a restoration spell in order to repair the muscles he tore in his exertion and the minor fracture in his wrists that was glanced by one of the snow elf's spells during the fight, but to no avail. He would have to see a healer or rest in order to repair these injuries until his magic had returned to its full strength.

[Elerian]

Markath

"I am the Reclaimer for my people, I mean you and your city no harm," Pyat muttered, or more closely half-whispered to the inquisitor, keeping his head down and attention focused to the floor.

Jerick's Chambers, Markarth
"Your people? Who are they?" The elf of whatever kind seemed rather timid but Jerick thought he had seen him somewhere before. . . . The it hit him he was at Solitude. Jerick then gave his guards a quick look and one left the room. Jerick asked the elf "You were at Solitude trying to take the city. Why did you try to do that?"

Fort Sungard, the Reach
Ivar looked at the men he had told to go across the ground to circle the fort and attack from behind. It should be relatively easy. Ivar doubted they had even heard of the attack and capture of Markarth. No matter. Suddenly a lone flaming arrow sped into the air landing with a thud in the compound of the fort. Ivar stood from behind a bush. Along with him several dozens of other men rose with him.
"FIRE!!!"
A moment later the twang of dozens of bows resounded off the mountains. He could hear several yelps within the fort. The time was now.
"CHARGE FOR GLORY OR SOVENGARDE!!!"
Several men ran forth carrying a few ladders with which to scale the walls. Within the fort he could hear a loud bugle sound and the clang of metal on metal as the men around the other side of the fort were fiercely fighting a losing battle. He and the rest of his men ran forth to climb the walls. After several agonizing seconds he hit the wall and climbed. As he reached the top a massive axe came down and nearly hit his shoulder. He thrust out his spear and heard a cry of pain. As he jumped the wall he drew his sword and began hacking at the defenders to get a clear path into the fort. After seemingly an eternity of fighting Ivar's stretch of wall was clear. He asked his men if they had any casualties. They said three so far but the cuts weren't severe. They pushed into the main compound and after a few short clashes reached the inner compound and after that into the keep. As the sun was rising the flag of Jerick the fox was raised.

[Al-Quarra]

Falkreath, 9:00, 3th of Morning Star, 4E 201

Achrab had just left Falkreath and had started his way towards Elinhir, there he had a meeting with serval other high standing people. Achrab needed to rush himself towards the city to get on time. It would take a week or so to get there, depending on the weather.

At that same time General Mussah read the instructed orders and began inmediatly. Soldiers would be send to Bloodlet Throne, Peak's Shade Tower, Cracked Tusk Keep, Falkreath Watchtower, Bannermist Tower, Fort Neugrad and Helgen.
Bandits would be bribed or killed, Any other creatures like Magicians, Vampires ect. would be killed. The towers and forts would be rebuilded as soon as possible and on a high speed.
The soldiers would leave at night to these places, making sure that at the morning they could start rebuilding them.

[Rightful Revolution]

Markath

"I had hoped to win the favor of the Thalmor by conquering a Nord city to demonstrate Snow ELf power. Inevitably it failed from a variety of factors, but my struggles are the same as yours, Your people have struggled, killed, defiled, abused in their crusade for your home land. I was merely doing the same as well. I simply seek a place for my Snow ELf brethren to finally return, as to rebuild our tattered civilization. Just as your Forsworn have done."

[Elerian]

Markath

"I had hoped to win the favor of the Thalmor by conquering a Nord city to demonstrate Snow ELf power. Inevitably it failed from a variety of factors, but my struggles are the same as yours, Your people have struggled, killed, defiled, abused in their crusade for your home land. I was merely doing the same as well. I simply seek a place for my Snow ELf brethren to finally return, as to rebuild our tattered civilization. Just as your Forsworn have done."

The guard had returned with several more men. Jerick began again after a quick glance.
"I would be willing to aid you as long as you help me afterwards. If you successfully create a new Snow Elf kingdom I wish to ally myself with you. As one you are weak together we would be powerful. So what say you?"

[Al-Quarra]

Falkreath, 21:00, 3th of Morning Star, 4E 201

Finally the soldiers left for their missions.

21:10 Peak's Shade Tower
5 Soldiers approached the ruined tower, they quickly noticed that it was abandoned and so they already started to clean the ground around and towards it so that the builders could start in the morning.

21:20 Cracked Tusk Keep
10 soldiers walked towards the Cracked Tusk Keep when they noticed a fire coming from there, Slowely they approached the place. When they arrived some Orcs came down with their weapons pointed at the soldiers. "What do you want" one of them asked. "We are here from Falkreath, We came here to gather your support against our mutual enemy" the capitan replied. The Orcs talked abit amongst themselves, soon after that they named their price and the capitan payed it. Quickly the soldiers together with 10 Orcs started to clean up too.

21:20 Falkreath Watchtower
As 7 soldiers marched towards the tower they saw a big light coming from the top, "Magic" one said with a filty face... They had to take out this or these necromancer(s) as quickly as possible. Slowly the soldiers surrounded the tower and moved up the stairs. When they could hear the necromancer they desided to charge. As they ran up the last sairs one of the soldiers quickly fell down, killed by this black magic. Soon a second one fell down, but when the second fell the others reached him and stabbed their blades deep inside the magician. Ending his life. The remaining 5 soldiers desided to hang the body of the necromancer along the towers wall, followed by that they burried their fellow soldiers and soon after that they also started to clean the rubbish out of the tower.

21:35 Bannermist Tower
5 soldiers had been send to the Bannermist Tower, at their arrivel they saw a man standing watch outside of the tower. As they walked up to him he quickly drew his bow and shot an arrow, hitting one of the soldiers in the arm. At that point there was no negotiating anymore, the soldiers pulled out their weapons and slaughterd the whole place.

21:50 Helgen
20 soldiers arrived at the ruins of Helgen, the soldiers expected it to be abandoned when they saw no lights coming out of the town. But when they arrived at the gates there was a man standing. "Hold it there" the man said. He then called for his friends. "We are from Falkreath, we desire to cooperate with you, making sure you get paid and fed well." the capitan said. The bandits started to talk, it took a long while but finally they spoke again. "We will but on one condition, We want to live right here in Helgen" the man said. "Very well then, its done" the capitan replied. And so the 20 soldiers 25 and bandits tarted to clean the town out for the morning.

22:00 Bloodlet Throne
5 soldiers had been send to Bloodlet Throne, everybody thought it was abandoned and so the soldiers didn't worried about a thing. But when they walked into the place an evil air arrived... When they walked inside they noticed that it wasn't abandoned, but yet they saw nobody. When they walked deeper into the building they suddenly became surrounded by vampires. The soldiers stood no chance and got slained one by one, only able to kill three of the vampires...

22:10 Fort Neugrad
The General had sended 50 soldiers to the fort, he didn't know if it was abandoned by the Empire or not. The soldiers saw the light from afar and already prepared for the worst to come. But when a scout reached the camp he was relieved, it was only a bandit camp and nothing more. The soldiers arrived and the Bandits got payed off (not that they had any chance). soon the soldiers and 30 bandits where cleaning the fort.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

(Dark Brotherhood sanctuary in Falkreath is BOOMED by the Oculatus)

South of Falkreath, 01:00, 4th of Morning Start, 4E 201

The Imperial army and Thalmor forces arrive south of Falkreath and prepare to attack. There were around 1200 Imperial Legionaires and 200 Thalmor forces.

North of Falkreath, 01:00

The Penitus Oculatus and Imperial Legion forces arrive north of Falkreath, and wait for the signal for the combined assault. Archers are positioned along the hills and trees. Several hundred men, around 300, including the Oculatus, had arrived from the North.

[Communist republic of altorus]

the dark brotherhood are not at that sanctuary anymore.

[Valentir]

the dark brotherhood are not at that sanctuary anymore.

OOC: OOC IN OOC!!

[Al-Quarra]

Falkreath, 01:20, 4th of Morning Start, 4E 201

General Mussah got word of two armies closing in on Falkreath, he had to do something about it. "Get my horse" he said.
5 minutes later he rode out with 10 men towards the army in the south wich appeared to be the leading army.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Falkreath, 1:25, 4th of Morning Star, 4E 201

The Legate in command approached the man that rode forwards to them, feeling slightly angry. If the man wanted to do diplomacy, he shoulnd't had taken Falkreath. Legate Vodus was flanked by his loyal bodyguard and a Thalmor Justacier. The general and his men would be kept under shot by Imperials, although Vodus didn't give the order to fire. The man might be usefull. When people are afraid they tend to say things quicker, and Vodus suspected that the man that rode to them was, deep inside, very afraid of the armies nearing his little conquest.

[Sil Arion]

He, the man with no identity, read the worn and weathered journal. A record of seven centuries of memories from a time long past - a mythic age whence he had been born and flourished in an empire of his kith and kin - the Snow Elves - four and a half millennia ago. They had led an immensely prosperous civilization, wealthy and lively, filled with life and celebration as they enjoyed the fruits of their labors in Nirn, the Mortal Plane. He read of his name, Paragon, his past, his kith and kin, friends and family, and all the adventures within, and of how the armor and arms he now wore came to be, wrought and enchanted by his own hands, by his supreme will and sublime skill. But all was not to be.

And he read of the Night of Tears, and the Great War that followed, and how fiercely he, an ancient warrior without peer, and his brethren fought, the Return of the Atmorans, and the defeat that broke their race. The Fall of the Snow Elves and the death of their beloved Prince, their shining star and his own dear friend, and their degeneration into the Falmer, the Betrayed, at the hands of the Dwemer as his fell kin desperately struggled to make a meek existence in the dark, cold depths of the underworld. The fires of rage and colds of despair filled him as he contemplate his woes - truly, was he the last of his kin? And even then, to possess no memory of his past, as the Last? Am I bound to endless suffering? Do the Aedra themselves mock me? And I thus cursed by all that is Holy is this world?

For unknown moments, long and torturous, he wept. His body wracked with sobs as he wrapped his arms around his slim form, trying desperately to ward off the emotional and mental pain of such knowledge, such understanding of his doomed fate in a world now vastly different from the complex and detailed accounts of the journal, written in his own hand and seen with his eyes. The insights provided within were still valuable, the memories important as they held great stores of knowledge and wisdom therein he could repossess through continued readings of the some nine hundred pages of chronicled times.

However, for all his despair, there was hope. The sense he had felt, the strange, invisible guiding hand, seemed to be the divine presence of Auriel, his patron god, of whom he was the champion of, chosen to bring his fallen kin back to the light from where they now dwelled in the black depths, mutilated and mutated by millennia of suffering. He gathered himself, instilling a sense of innate calm given by his rediscovered purpose before he fell into the Deep Sleep to avoid the Kinslaying of traitorous Arch-Curate Vyrthur, as recorded in the annals of his journal. Likely, his old companion Knight-Paladin Gerebor had been slain. Thus, it was up to him now, Paragon, to fulfill the will of Auriel.

Paragon, his name finally returned to him, stood from his kneeling position and steadied himself. Straightening his shoulders, he prepared himself for the events ahead. It would be a dire and long road to walk, alone, to return his kin to their former place: a rich and lively civilization that was a light in the darkness of the barbaric world in which men now ruled. And so, he arose proudly from the hidden space beneath the altar, closing it as he did so. He looked one last time at the golden altar, the curving rays of the sun, the symbol of Auriel, his God. And then he strode purposefully from the chamber and out into the world beyond those heavy bronze doors encased in frost...

[Al-Quarra]

Falkreath, 1:25, 4th of Morning Star, 4E 201

As the General arrived, already he had noticed the "problem", The Thalmor.
However the General had to give diplomacy a chance, as was usuall in his country. "Greetings sir" he said with a grim voice while looking at the Thalmor. "I wish to discuss this,... Issue,.... we have In private" the General added.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Falkreath

'..And you are?'
The Imperial Legionaires kept looking at the warriors from Hammerfel, ready to attack and kill them if necesarry.
'Anyways, if you wish to speak to me privately, follow me.'
Behind them was a small Imperial encampment. Everywhere were tents, camp fires and the red banners of the Empire. The Thalmor Justacier remained where he stood, but Vadus' bodyguard followed.