Tear, Morrowind 29th of Mid Year Xing, Grandmaster of the Yuan Clan, Commander of Southern Expeditionary Force ---- Visitors to the Thousand Isles often told the Tang Mo how strange their home was. In Xing’s own case, the Yuan clan built houses upon the branches of the mighty Huoyan trees, and lived amongst the fearsome tri-fang panthers. The trees generated heat, which provided the monkeys their source of warmth. The panthers provided food, though every hunt had the risk of turning hunters into preys, the fearless Tang Mo always prevailed in the end. Over time, those monkey folks built villages, and after that, cities. Nowadays, the metropolitan areas of the Thousand Isles were truly unique, each clan had its own history, tradition and culture. But the strangeness of his home was nothing compared to the alienness of Morrowind. The land were ash colored, which was fitting for a people living in the shadow of the greatest volcano. Under the ashen soil, bizarrerie vegetation and fruits, resembling the shapes of spikes, rocks and other unearthly objects, grew and flourished. Xing saw people living in Mushroom houses, though in this particular city, architecture remained generally recognizable. With the thoughts of this foreign place in mind, Xing ordered his flagship, [i]The Qianfeng[/i], into the docks. The large ship was joint Tang Mo and Tsaesci construction, with elements resembling ship builders of both people. The Tang Mo were seafaring people, but the close proximity of their islands meant that their specialties lied in lesser sized vessels. The large ship gently glided into the largest pier of the harbor. The commander specifically ordered the ship’s weapons to be stored underneath the deck, so it did not freighted the local populace. Even so, such a large vessel was a sight to behold, as the Dark Elf dockworkers stopped in their tracks and stared at [i]The Qianfeng[/i]. Xing paid them no attention, he had his first mate light up a signal fire, providing the signal to dock for the remaining ships. After an hour of maneuvering, most of the ships were able to drop their anchors in port. Dragonguard captain Matiyahu-Zvi and a group of Tang Mo messengers were the first ones on land. They took curious looks at the Dunmers, who looked back with equal, if not more, shock on their faces. After several tense minutes of talks, the Elves finally took off into the city. Seeing this opportunity, Xing, dressed in an enchanted shadowhide armor, descended onto the docks. “Commander Xing,” Matiyahu reported. “They took your letter, this Ildoryn should be on his way now.” ---- Fort Frostmoth, Solstheim 1st of Mid Year Hakkeam, War Herald of the Kamal, Commander of the Northern Expeditionary Force ---- Hakkeam was no stranger to the cold, the Kamal commander, two and half meter of raw muscle, stood casually against the cutting winds. It was perhaps the natural frost resistance of his people, or perhaps it was the insulating under-lair of his Adamantium armor, either way, he was not a bit bothered. However, the Tsaesci beside him clearly was. Sacharen-Regev, the Tsaesci imperial battlemage, shivered in the cold wind. Her scarlet-dyed silverweave robe did nothing to ward off the cold, even with a fur-lined coat, she still felt the bitter wind. It was said that the Tsaesci have traces of cold-blooded reptiles, causing them to be less adaptive of extreme weathers. This was why the snake folks learned to manipulate weather, if they could not change themselves, they had to change the environment. In her current case, Sacharen knew that would not be possible. The majority of the battlemages were devoted to other purposes, some went about engineering duties, some served as scouts while others kept communication open. At this point, Hakkeam have finished his inspection and preceded to return inside the fort. From his brief tour outside, he saw his Kamal troops, along with the Tsaescis, managed to refortify this abandoned structure. In the last 3 days, they have expanded the ruined port, cleared out ashes and “ashspawn” creatures, repaired the damaged walls and scouted the nearby areas. The ashspawns were fairly easy to dispose of, as Hakkeam quickly learned. Sacharen’s experiments demonstrated their resistance to fire, but also discovered their vulnerability against banish spells. To the Kamal commander, none of that ever mattered, for a wide swing of his warhammer turned these abominations into fine dust. Speaking of warhammers, a couple of Kamal soldiers found a particularly powerful enchanted hammer. According to some of the records, it was the Champion’s Crudgel, belonging to a “General Falx Carius”. While the weapon itself was old and worn, the enchantment was nothing the Akaviri have seen. Instead of channeling the energy of one element, it had all three. After smashing through a group of Reavers with the Crudgel, Hakkeam deemed it a worthy weapon. While it does not have the shear power of his three meter long Adamantium warhammer, its relatively compact size and powerful enchantment have made it a suitable backup. “Sorceress,” the Kamal stopped as he questioned Sacharen. “What do you think this place used to be?” “Well,” the battlemage pondered for a second. “There are magical materials dedicated to necromancy, as seen with these “ashspawns” and this “General Carius”. But someone cleared it out some time ago, more than a year but less than a decade.” “Hmm,” Hakkeam wondered. While the Kamal gave off images of berserkers, as most of them were, they do have accomplished magick users amongst their ranks. The majority of Kamal mages were destruction and conjuration experts, hence their nickname, “the Snow Demons.” “Most of the construction should be done in two days,” Sacharen alerted the Kamal. She was eager to get off this divines forsaken rock, to finally demonstrate the might of her elite Stormmages. “Indeed,” Like Sacharen, Hakkeam was equally eager to fight, to test the Crudgel against worthy opponents. “Our assault shall commence then.”