The Elder Scrolls: Ascension [IC]

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Ja'sari
Near Bruma
Cyrodiil, The Empire

---

Ja'sari reacted quickly, jumping of her horse, she pulled out her crossbow, and aimed at the werewolves. She was ready for this.... The bolt is laced with a special poison... she thought as she looked at the three werewolves, Her guess was correct, they are all werewolves.

"Is Esthael alright?" Ja'sari asked as she smiled, "Ja'sari knew it.... Now, she will take them down."

---

Elanea
Skyrim-Cyrodiil Border
Skyrim, The Empire

---

"I will definitely have to read up on these Stormcloaks...." She said to herself, "Do you know what this Ylgim Skycrown is like?"

[The Greater Gambia]

The Narud Siblings
Near Bruma
Cyrodiil, The Empire


Tazir snarled at Ja'sari as she readied her crossbow. He moved forward to challenge her but was blocked by Cyprus. Cyprus instead howled into the air, summoning two ghostly wolf pack members to cover their escape. As the ghost wolves got in between them and Esthael's party, the three bolted in the opposite direction.

[Cybraxia]

Traveling Home,
Jon, Valeth, and Rock:

When Ylgim left, the others left with him. Most assuredly, he and his men were unnerved by the Thalmor trailing behind, but nothing occurred of note. "As I said, I'll keep my ear to the ground. If anything happens, call for me. I hope that we get some good news soon."

"Agreed. If you hear anything, send a letter. You know how I hate to be left in the dark."

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Esthael Cardes
Near Bruma
Cyrodiil, The Empire

---

Standing fully straight, Esthael ran a hand through her hair, trying to get some of the snow out as she watched intently on what'd happen next. "Could be better, I'd say..." The Breton wasn't exactly sure what to do as out of nowhere, spectral wolves appeared in front of the group, blocking them off from their (former?) prisoners. The ghostly creatures were dealt with rather swiftly, but when they were all gone the Redguard werewolves were nowhere to be seen.

With that done, Esthael put her sword back in its sheath, looking at the devastation caused - upon seeing what remained of the legionnaire, emptying her bowels from the breakfast she'd finished only a few hours earlier next to the road. Unsure what to do, the Breton sat down, silently crying in shock. Why did everything she do always go wrong?

[The Intergalactic Russian Empire]

Thorvald Frost-Shield
Tower of Mzark, The Pale
Skyrim, The Empire
Thorvald walked up beside Marcus and said "Indeed, much of the knowledge that the ancients knew has been lost to us. I have 680 mercenary troops with me, wit your 30 that makes 710 men. Now, let's begin the long process of getting all of these men inside Blackreach." he glanced back at Vorid and said "We shall begin our descent shortly."

[Ralnis]

"Don't worry, building such things take time anyway. However, this Khajit would like for you to do as you do best for he only is waiting for the moment to strike. In the meantime, this Khajit will be finding such ships and men for your needs."

"I'll try to assemble a crew for my flagship, and train them. I can also find a suitable ship, and start off with basic pirating. Once I get a larger fleet, then I could start in on full scale aggression. This seem fine to you?"

" Fine by me, just send a letter to Senshal when the Lizard needs anything from this Khajit." He started to walk off as he was thinking to himself. Gold, a ragtag navy, and the needs to rise an army, but he need one last thing before he can kickstart the war. It was something he would've never thought he would do but it seems he will have a need for it after all.

He was giving it some deep thought as he walked into the Bannered Mare and saw an Orc that was twice as and twice as ugly as any normal Orc. Ki'nanik just shrugged as many people moved away from him by smell alone and he thought he smelled worse then the Orc did. He walked by him and asked," excuse me Orc, would you be mind if this Khajit drinks with you?"

[The NAR]

Marcus Augustus
Tower of Mzark, the Pale
Province of Skyrim, the Empire

---

"We're in no rush" assured Marcus, still looking at the ancient Dwemer observatory. "Just think about it... more than a century ago, the Dragonborn stood right at this spot. He retrieved the Elder Scroll... saved all of Tamriel... hmm, hard to believe that the savior of our very souls fought for the Empire during the war, eh?". Marcus chuckled in remembrance of his past service in the Legion.

"Oh well..." Marcus sighed. "Let's get moving, then"

[The Nuclear Fist]

He was giving it some deep thought as he walked into the Bannered Mare and saw an Orc that was twice as and twice as ugly as any normal Orc. Ki'nanik just shrugged as many people moved away from him by smell alone and he thought he smelled worse then the Orc did. He walked by him and asked," excuse me Orc, would you be mind if this Khajit drinks with you?"

Morzog looked over the Khajiit before him with a bloodshot eye, a massive hand scratching his stubbled chin. He, or rather Morzog guessed that it was a he, was the only person in the tavern who seemed as ramshackle as himself, crusted in a dozen different forms of offal and stinking like a mound of garbage. His counterpart, too, looked parched, and as if he was in need of a good night's sleep. In the Orc's own simple mind, he saw something of a kindred spirit. Offering the Khajiit a wide, gnarled grin, he spoke.

"Well if it isn't my old drinking buddy. Let's get some mead." He said, his voice gruff and low, like a stone breaking. Morzog kicked out a chair for the Khajiit, and yelled for the tavern wench to bring them drinks. He took a bite of his horker loaf, chewing it noisily. "So, who're you, then?" He asked.

[Ralnis]

He was giving it some deep thought as he walked into the Bannered Mare and saw an Orc that was twice as and twice as ugly as any normal Orc. Ki'nanik just shrugged as many people moved away from him by smell alone and he thought he smelled worse then the Orc did. He walked by him and asked," excuse me Orc, would you be mind if this Khajit drinks with you?"

Morzog looked over the Khajiit before him with a bloodshot eye, a massive hand scratching his stubbled chin. He, or rather Morzog guessed that it was a he, was the only person in the tavern who seemed as ramshackle as himself, crusted in a dozen different forms of offal and stinking like a mound of garbage. His counterpart, too, looked parched, and as if he was in need of a good night's sleep. In the Orc's own simple mind, he saw something of a kindred spirit. Offering the Khajiit a wide, gnarled grin, he spoke.

"Well if it isn't my old drinking buddy. Let's get some mead." He said, his voice gruff and low, like a stone breaking. Morzog kicked out a chair for the Khajiit, and yelled for the tavern wench to bring them drinks. He took a bite of his horker loaf, chewing it noisily. "So, who're you, then?" He asked.

Ki'nanik smiled and sat down with some mead and he drank it down with a satisfying sigh. " This Khajit is named Ki'nanik and he is on a quest that is about to be over soon. However, it will either win in freedom, or this one's death and his allies. Though, this one needs a good night sleep before he continue on the last leg of this quest. You probably don't want to hear that. What's your name?" He asked as he took another sip of the mead.

[Hastiaka]

Alinor

The royalists began moving heavy artillery. The Vinedusk Rangers, a large group of elite bosmer archers began firing on the rooftops of the city. Meanwhile, 7,000 more troops have breached the Northern wall of the city. Alinor is not easy to be breached. It is the equivalent of Constantinople. Despite that, the Royalists managed to storm the city. Killing every Daedra and Thalmor they see who are armed and ready to murder.

''We have you surrounded. Surrender now or your Family, and their family are no more!'' a General shouted from afar.

[The Nuclear Fist]

Ki'nanik smiled and sat down with some mead and he drank it down with a satisfying sigh. " This Khajit is named Ki'nanik and he is on a quest that is about to be over soon. However, it will either win in freedom, or this one's death and his allies. Though, this one needs a good night sleep before he continue on the last leg of this quest. You probably don't want to hear that. What's your name?" He asked as he took another sip of the mead.

"I am," began Morzog, washing down a mouthful of roasted horker loaf with mead, "the ripper, slasher, terror, gouger, mutilator of men and beast and daedra alike." He boasted, pounding a meaty fist on the table. "The greatest warrior in all of Tamriel, who has slain an army of men. My name is Morzog Lorgash, called the Immortal, khajiit, for I have won and survived so many battles." By that point, Morzog, slurring slightly from the effects of all the mead, was practically beaming at his own boasts. Of course, it was not true that people called him anything at all, men rarely called sellswords anything at all. They were a septim a dozen, and only truly earned fame if they managed to kill enough men in the right place, or the right man. Much to the humongous Orc's chagrin, he had done neither.

[Ralnis]

Ki'nanik smiled and sat down with some mead and he drank it down with a satisfying sigh. " This Khajit is named Ki'nanik and he is on a quest that is about to be over soon. However, it will either win in freedom, or this one's death and his allies. Though, this one needs a good night sleep before he continue on the last leg of this quest. You probably don't want to hear that. What's your name?" He asked as he took another sip of the mead.

"I am," began Morzog, washing down a mouthful of roasted horker loaf with mead, "the ripper, slasher, terror, gouger, mutilator of men and beast and daedra alike." He boasted, pounding a meaty fist on the table. "The greatest warrior in all of Tamriel, who has slain an army of men. My name is Morzog Lorgash, called the Immortal, khajiit, for I have won and survived so many battles." By that point, Morzog, slurring slightly from the effects of all the mead, was practically beaming at his own boasts. Of course, it was not true that people called him anything at all, men rarely called sellswords anything at all. They were a septim a dozen, and only truly earned fame if they managed to kill enough men in the right place, or the right man. Much to the humongous Orc's chagrin, he had done neither.

The Khajit was laughing at the slurs and the boast of the Orc. It worked well with the smell and yet Ki'nanik wasn't known to entertain those ideas for himself or the Guild he is building to do something dangerous and would probably be the end of him. " Well, those are a lot of titles great Orc. However, this Khajit's question is that have Morzog gained any fame from fighting against Thalmor?" Starting to get a bit half-joking and half-serious attitude going. " You see, this Khajit may not truly believe what the Orc boast for he is in the business of lying and may want to see it to believe it. If you wish to prove this Khajit wrong, then are you available for hiring?"

[The Intergalactic Russian Empire]

Marcus Augustus
Tower of Mzark, the Pale
Province of Skyrim, the Empire

---

"We're in no rush" assured Marcus, still looking at the ancient Dwemer observatory. "Just think about it... more than a century ago, the Dragonborn stood right at this spot. He retrieved the Elder Scroll... saved all of Tamriel... hmm, hard to believe that the savior of our very souls fought for the Empire during the war, eh?". Marcus chuckled in remembrance of his past service in the Legion.

"Oh well..." Marcus sighed. "Let's get moving, then"

Thorvald Frost-Shield
Tower of Mzark, the Pale
Skyrim, the Empire
Thorvald paused for a second "You have just said a grievous historical inaccuracy and I must correct you. The Dragonborn sided with the Stormcloaks during the war and is the reason why the Stormcloaks won of a short while until his disappearance." he paused "I read up on him when I was younger, he didn't seem to have a morality, one minute he'd be helping fight Thalmor then the next he'd sacrifice a friend to Boethiah or join the Dark Brotherhood or something. But we can talk about this more later, we have a job to do."

[The NAR]

Marcus Augustus
Tower of Mzark, the Pale
Province of Skyrim, the Empire

---

Marcus chuckled and shrugged. "I must've read wrong, but oh well". Marcus adjusted his armor and then looked to Thorvald. "My men and I will move and secure the market-like place in the center of Blackreach, where resistance is likely to be the heaviest. You and your men split into different groups and secure the other areas, mainly the lifts and entrances to the old Dwemer ruins"

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Ja'sari
Near Bruma
Cyrodiil, The Empire

---

Ja'sari put her crossbow away. They got away, and Ja'sari couldn't help but start to worry. Ja'sari will have to watch her back from now on.... Life just got much more dangerous, she thought as she looked over the devastation. Ja'sari took a deep breath, May they rest in peace.

She then saw Esthael silently crying, so she made her way over to her.

"Is Esthael alright?" Ja'sari asked warmly.

---

Ylgim Skycrown
Fort Skycrown, The Pale
Skyrim, The Empire

---

Ylgim returned to the Fort, and made his way to his chambers. He was going to relax for a bit.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Skyrim

---

"I have no idea, to be honest." The Emperor's reply was rather short. "I have never met him. He's rich, powerful. Apparently wants to plunge Skyrim into a rebellion once more. We'll have to see for ourselves."

With the coming of evening and night after that, the group soon stopped alongside the road in Falkreath hold, making camp for the night. Come morning, the Imperials swiftly packed up their camp again and sped northwards once more, to Fort Skycrown. Upon arrival there, a single courier was sent forth. "Remaunes Cardes the Third, Emperor of Tamriel, by authority of the Elder Council and the Ruby Throne, hereby demands that Ylgim, Patriarch of the Skycrown family, shall meet with him here, in front of his castle, that the Divines may bear witness to them doing so!"

Esthael Cardes
Near Bruma
Cyrodiil, The Empire

---

"Yes, yes, it's fine..." Esthael sniffed as she was helped up by Cullagia, the Imperial having approached her around the same time as Ja'sari did. Looking around, the Breton noticed that the dead Legionnaire had quickly been covered with a blanket. Unsure what to really do, and still somewhat shocked, she ran her hand through her hair once more in order to get the snow to fall out of it. It was her cousin, Alyssande, that took the initiative. "Right," the mage spoke as she pointed to several Legionnaires, "you lot will bring the poor boy to Bruma Castle, where the Legion will deal with the rest. Stay there, go to the bugger's family, I don't care - just get the Legion there to send for replacements. Tell them to meet up with us at the entrance of Pale Pass."

[Faal Lot Himdah]

Ylgim Skycrown
Fort Skycrown, The Pale
Skyrim, The Empire

---

Yligm was in his study, reading, and planning. Suddenly a knock sounded at the door. Ylgim put down his quill, and turned to the door.

"Enter." He said. A soldier walked in, one of the primary wall guards.

"Sir. They have arrived.... the Emporer and his men have arrived. They are demanding your pressence." The guard said.

Ylgim stood up, "Very well. I will be out in a few minutes..."

"But it sounds like he demands your presence immediately...." The guard said.

Ylgim gave him a glare, "We don't recognize the authority of the Emporer, so he'll have to wait a few minutes. In the meantime, have everyone on their guard and ready, if they make any aggressive move, we should be ready to defend."

"Sir." The guard said as he saluted and left the room to relay the order.

Ylgim on the other hand went to his chambers, and armored up. He grabbed his axe, but not a shield. Instead, after he was armored up, he went to the meeting hall. He entered the secret tunnels, and made his way to the Skycrown vault. He entered and went straight for a single thing. The Shield of the Divine Crusader.

He reached for it, hoping. He had never tried to pick it up, so he didn't know if the divines would allow him the use of it. He picked it up, and smiled. He then made his way back. Closing everything as he made his way back. Ylgim walked out of the Skycrown Manor, and to the courtyard of the Fort.

The eyes of his army where on him, more specifically, the shield. There where rumors among the soldiers that Ylgim had a powerful artifact, but they where not expecting that shield. Ylgim, now surrounded by a handful of his troops, made his way through the gates to meet with the Emporer.

Ylgim stood their for a second, before he spoke, "So, Emporer Remaunes has finally come to pay us a visit..... I am here."

[Cybraxia]

Jon Hind
Fort Skycrown, The Pale
Skyrim, The Empire

---

By this time, Jon had returned with Ylgim, and Valeth and Rock had left for the Embassy. Jon was among the troops in the courtyard. "I'll keep an eye for spies. If you need anything, call for me." Jon whispered to Ylgim. David, his dog, was by him as well, on guard and sniffing the air.

[South Sutalia]

Vorid Ursine
Tower of Mzark, The Pale
Skyrim, The Empire

A spark of curiosity flared in Vorid when Thorvald and Marcus discussed the historical oddball that was the Dragonborn. Of course, she had plenty of her own opinions, though she mentioned none of them. It would be rude for her to chat on such matters while on a crucial mission. As far as the Nord girl could tell, the army was going to split up on the way to Blackreach. It was exciting to imagine marching along with a brigade into total darkness, with nothing but the screeches of the Falmer accompanying them the whole way down. Vorid had heard tales of Oblivion that were more comforting. Keeping up with the pace of her comrades, she held onto her quiver's strap all the more firmly, for fear that she could drop it in the caverns below.

[The Intergalactic Russian Empire]

Thorvald Frost-Shield
Tower of Mzark, the Pale
Skyrim, the Empire
Thorvald nodded and turned around to Vorid and said "Follow me, we must begin marching all of the troops into Blackreach." we went back to the troops and began distributing orders to them, soon the troops began to march, beginning the descent to the interior of Blackreach. Thorvald and Vorid would be the first two of the large force to enter Blackreach.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Fort Skycrown, The Pale

---

"All hail!" a voice proclaimed, before a group of Legionnaires, now on foot thanks to the mountain they stood on, parted, revealing the Emperor, who approached. Remaunes stood, despite the Breton blood running through his family, tall, and was well-muscled. He had short, black hair, standing in contrast to the bright red cloak that hung over his shoulders, the Crusader's Cuirass rattling as he approached, Pelinal's sword hanging from his belt. "Ylgim Skycrown," he spoke, pulling his gloves straight, "word has it that you are a traitor to the Empire, and yet here you stand bearing the shield of one that was key to founding the very Empire you are now seemingly wanting to betray. So speak, man, and let your words be the truth lest you condemn thousands to a fate that should not be theirs. Tell me, are you a traitor to the Empire?"

[The Nuclear Fist]

The Khajit was laughing at the slurs and the boast of the Orc. It worked well with the smell and yet Ki'nanik wasn't known to entertain those ideas for himself or the Guild he is building to do something dangerous and would probably be the end of him. " Well, those are a lot of titles great Orc. However, this Khajit's question is that have Morzog gained any fame from fighting against Thalmor?" Starting to get a bit half-joking and half-serious attitude going. " You see, this Khajit may not truly believe what the Orc boast for he is in the business of lying and may want to see it to believe it. If you wish to prove this Khajit wrong, then are you available for hiring?"

Morzog rankled at Ki'nanik's doubts as to the Orc's prowess, mouth tightening into a frown. Still, even drunk, Morzog understood the Khajiit's point. After all, Skyrim had no shortage of men claiming to be Talos reborn, and just as many Orcs claimed to be the avatar of Malacath walking upon Nirn. So the old Orc nodded, and forced a wry smile as he leaned back in his chair, finishing off his mead.

"I'm a sellsword, friend. What kind of sellsword would I be, if I wasn't for hire?" Morzog asked jokingly, finishing off the last of his meal. "For the right amount of gold, I'll kill any Thalmor, bandit, or giant in between you and your goal. Killed plenty of Thalmor in my time, too. I was in the Legion, you know. Earned some fame for stopping a cavalry charge all on my own, I did." He bragged, embellishing the story somewhat.

"So yeah, I'll fight your Thalmor for you, for the right price. But, eh, what price are we talking, here?" The Orc asked, leaning forward and bringing himself close to his counterpart.

[Ralnis]

The Khajit was laughing at the slurs and the boast of the Orc. It worked well with the smell and yet Ki'nanik wasn't known to entertain those ideas for himself or the Guild he is building to do something dangerous and would probably be the end of him. " Well, those are a lot of titles great Orc. However, this Khajit's question is that have Morzog gained any fame from fighting against Thalmor?" Starting to get a bit half-joking and half-serious attitude going. " You see, this Khajit may not truly believe what the Orc boast for he is in the business of lying and may want to see it to believe it. If you wish to prove this Khajit wrong, then are you available for hiring?"

Morzog rankled at Ki'nanik's doubts as to the Orc's prowess, mouth tightening into a frown. Still, even drunk, Morzog understood the Khajiit's point. After all, Skyrim had no shortage of men claiming to be Talos reborn, and just as many Orcs claimed to be the avatar of Malacath walking upon Nirn. So the old Orc nodded, and forced a wry smile as he leaned back in his chair, finishing off his mead.

"I'm a sellsword, friend. What kind of sellsword would I be, if I wasn't for hire?" Morzog asked jokingly, finishing off the last of his meal. "For the right amount of gold, I'll kill any Thalmor, bandit, or giant in between you and your goal. Killed plenty of Thalmor in my time, too. I was in the Legion, you know. Earned some fame for stopping a cavalry charge all on my own, I did." He bragged, embellishing the story somewhat.

"So yeah, I'll fight your Thalmor for you, for the right price. But, eh, what price are we talking, here?" The Orc asked, leaning forward and bringing himself close to his counterpart.

He brought himself closer to the Orc and he said," this Khajit doesn't have any gold on himself as of right now, but the idea that this Khajit needs is that of freedom, at least for a nation. You may get your gold rather this Khajit wins or looses, but you will have no shortage of Thalmor to engrave your name in them. However, this Khajit must complete the last leg of his quest before he makes off to warm sands. If you are willing to be hired by then. This Khajit, he can make sure that you will be on a good payroll. Does this work for you?"

[The Nuclear Fist]

He brought himself closer to the Orc and he said," this Khajit doesn't have any gold on himself as of right now, but the idea that this Khajit needs is that of freedom, at least for a nation. You may get your gold rather this Khajit wins or looses, but you will have no shortage of Thalmor to engrave your name in them. However, this Khajit must complete the last leg of his quest before he makes off to warm sands. If you are willing to be hired by then. This Khajit, he can make sure that you will be on a good payroll. Does this work for you?"

Morzog looked the Khajiit, caught off guard by his proposition. A slight sense of suspicion pervaded him as he listened to his counterpart, his addled mind not sure if he was being bamboozled or not. Still, he was in deep need of money, and his heart hungered for glory as much as his stomach hungered for food. In spite of himself, Morzog found himself won over.

"I don't figure you're lying to me, friend. So I'll accept your offer. Now, I'm going to get a chance at a bath and a night's sleep," he said, standing up and gathering his equipment. "If you're still around in the morning, we'll move out. But," he said, his tone growing grim and his eyes narrowing, "if you're trying to pull the wool over my eyes. . . won't be the first Khajiit I've split open." He said, leaving the conversation at that and lumbering away.

[The NAR]

Marcus Augustus
Blackreach, the Pale
Province of Skyrim, the Empire

---

After a few moments of mental preparation, Marcus was ready to go into battle once again. The soldiers were scared of this unknown and very dangerous place, but Marcus was not. He had been in Blackreach many times before. In fact, during the time in the Thieves Guild, he had made a home in Blackreach, where he commanded the Guild's operations in the Pale, Haalfingar, Hjaalmarch, and Winterhold. The outpost was overrun by Falmer years ago, so Marcus was weary of their power.

Though, Marcus didn't let the past blind him. He marched along his men down the streets of the Deep Folk Crossing towards the place that would have the most intense resistance...