Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Sovi3t
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Sovi3t Obamacare

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Markath War Ten
24th of Midyear t


Jartod sat on a chair in the war tent nearby to the city of Markath , looking to the map of Skyrim at his disposal

Manis the Fair began talking shortly after

" We should improve our Military , more men ... the problem is we don't have good enough training for these new ones to start battle "

' Set up recruitment offices in Solitude , Morthal , Winterhold and Riften"

"What do you purpose High King?"

" Forsworn offensive, give these recruits one month of training before we attack postions of the forsworn, drive them out to High Rock or murder them all"

" Yes sir, what about current recruits that are going through normal training "

"They'll be going as well"

From this moment on, Jartod launched what in history to come was known to be the "Forsworn Offensive" , if Talos and the Divines were with him , he would swiftly remove the camps. To raise moral and make sure more and more men pass the training , the more kills you had, the more better armour and weapon you got. That was his strategy. He knew that sending in a veteran force would be a waste against them, so recruits would have a prefect opportunity to earn there armour and their ranks.

"Inform the Jarl of the Reach as well, we'll open a recruitment office there"

" Lastly, inform the companions and any other mercenaries in nearby guilds if they would like to send there recruits and or un-blooded to a test, this is the prefect chance. "

=========================

Actions

- "Forsworn Offensive " has begin
- Recruitment offices pop up, to draw more men to the Army of Skyrim
- Mercenary contracts offered in most significant Merc Recruiting Offices (Any remaining Fighter Guilds Branches)
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by GreivousKhan
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GreivousKhan Deus Vult

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Valenwood Coastline
24th of Midyear, 4E 205


Temijen nodded. "Very well, I shall send word to you when the supplies for the cities are shipped in from Hammerfell. I will sail back personally to oversee the necessary arrangements, expect our fleet to return by the 15th of Sun's Height the god's willing. Once the wood arrives the building of the cities will be carried out post haste." Temijen pulled on the reins of his horse as he pulled it to the side as he prepared to leave. "I shall leave a garrison in Woodhearth should the Dominion return. Should they so be so bold to land, know that redguards will fight alongside bosmer to see them off once more."

As he finished he tilted his head to the keeper as a sign of respect and rode back to his group. They quickly rode out to rejoin with a larger force waiting at the agreed upon distance from the meeting, before all set off back to the redguard encampment.

Khasta was first to break the silence as he rode beside Temijen. "So how did it go? I could hardly hear a thing, and there seemed to be little shouting but much handshaking. It went well I assume?" There was a glimmer of hope mix with curiosity in his dark eyes.

Temijen regarded his old friend for a time with an unreadable expression, before a gleaming smile spread across his face. "Better than we had ever dared hope. The Keeper agreed, so as long as we stay out of their forest and do them no harm, the coast of Valenwood are ours."

Sir Varnklith riding on Temijen's left raised an eyebrow at that news. "Indeed? That is splendid news! Certainly splendid. I had to admit, I did not think you would pull it off."

"You give me too little credit, but the keeper saw the wisdom in my words. But now comes the hard part I fear, it may not take long for word of this to spread, especially if the altmer still have forces and agents here. I hardly trust the Imperials to keep a competent eye on the coast for all their skill and discipline. I will sail back to Hammerfell and organize a rather different fleet and purpose for our return. However, the ground force will remain in Valenwood to guard against Dominion incursions. As long as the heart of the forest is untouched, our deal with the bosmer will hold firm. We'll need the greater portion of our fleet here to guard the waters from the altmer. Thankfully our fleets have long since been mobilized, equipped, and prepared for this day. Word must be sent to the fleet still docked around Stros M'kai to be ready; its high time years of preparation finally come to fruition."

Khasta nodded his understanding. "Do you think they will rise to the bait?"

Temijen gave a grim smile. "We just ceded the entire coastline of Valenwood form the high elves, they would be mad not to make some kind of move. There's no telling how violent a reaction it will be however. I will leave the defense of the shores in your hands Varnklith, be sure to meet with the imperials as well. No need to mention what has happened here today of course, but learns what you can from them after marching to Woodhearth and winter there; you have enough supplies to last until we return in force."

Varnklith nodded his understanding. "I shall make ready then for a quick march to Woodhearth."

The Ra-gada forces soon moved camp and started their march to Woodhearth, a messenger was sent ahead to the legate currently stationed in Valenwood.

Sentinel
25th of Midyear, 4E 205


Ali-baba, secret court wizard of Temijen, perused the scrolls that littered the table before him, among the table occupants were several dwarven pieces. Given the redguards distrust of wizards and their ilk, Ali-baba was hardly one to flaunt his gifts in the arcane arts. So he was forced to work on most of his projects in secret. At the moment he had finally uncovered how to best implement the dwemer rapid fire ballista into Yokudan warships. The recent skirmishes in Stros M'kai had long since been dealt with, which had given Ali-baba and his assistants plenty of dwemer artifacts and ruins to exploit and craft into the designs found in Volenfell. The expedition had a success though a costly one. Almost half of the band sent had been lost to traps or age old dwemer constructs.

Ali-baba was of the few leading experts on the constructs of the dwemer, in fact, Khasta had been a close student of his, and in fact the great dwemer crossbow he wielded was of Khasta's own making based on Ali-baba's designs. As he trailed his fingers over a scroll that had the various designs of a dwemer weapon sketched upon it, he contemplated the best method to test out the new designs. Surely he did not wish to fire any dwemer desgined weapon in his little work shop. Though perhaps little was not the right word. The room that was currently Ali-baba's main study was a large circular chamber that held a stair case that spiraled to each of the four floors located within the eastern tower of Sentinels magnificent Palace. All along the walls and in glass cases, dwemer artifacts could be found. Some half constructed, others mostly finished, all of them a wonder to the eye. At least to Ali-baba's.

The sound of mumbling from across the room drew his attention to one of his assistants, who was currently fumbling with a few pieces of a dwemer construct. It looked to be a kind of dwarven spider; a rather small one compared the larger variants. Ali-baba squinted as he said. "Careful with that, it's one of the few nearly fully intact specimens we have."

The young man, a Breton, looked up and nodded, wiping sweat from his brow as he went back to work. A short pause later he looked up scratching his head. "Bah, master, this would be much simpler if we could find a better source of power to work the siege engines..."

Ali-baba sighed, shaking his head, though he did agree on a level. "I'm afraid there is no other option available to us, thus we must make do with what we have, and even soul gems have been found to be inadequate for what we need." He nodded as if agreeing with himself. Indeed, the animunculi, as it was well known, worked with a combination of steam-powered energies and magic, all powered by the rare magical Dynamo Cores that were found now in working order only in the automaton's they resided within.

"Just be glad you’re not the one having to retrieve these in one piece." Ali-baba added with a grim smile before setting back to work. With the siege engines now complete Ali-baba new secret project would soon be underway, that is, after the necessary ingredients he had requested where delivered. In the meantime he at least had a chance to work out a safe location to test the new ballistae before work was started in installing them in the fleet still encamped around Stros M'kai.


Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Jangel13
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Jangel13 The angel of fortune

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The keeper left with his brothers and once they made distance between them and the red guards the keeper stopped on a tree branch to talk to his brothers secretly "keep an eye on them, you need to make sure they don't abuse this deal we made." The keeper told them as they nodded then the keeper looked to his best hunter, and the keeper said "go find the legate do not engage him or let him know of your presence this is a covert mission if you get caught then we will deny ever having this conversation do you understand this knowing the risks?"

The keeper said to his bosmer brother that had his face in green war paint his bone armor covered in the same fashion if war paint for camouflage "yes keeper, it will be done"

The keeper nodded to him and he addressed the others "the rest of you make your hunting groups and watch the coasts for spies we can't let anymore information leak to the altmer" the others nodded and they ask scattered to do their jobs that I assigned them as the keeper went back to the center of the forest to coordinate everything

South of elswyer
the bosmer kept to the trees trying to keep a constant flow of information going as they saw a bosmer being taken by the kahjit and they did a headcount knowing it wasn't one of them since that bosmer had no tattoo on their face or any war paint on them so it had to be one from the city as they sent two of their brothers back to send me the message that a city bosmer was captured

Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by Prince Potter
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Prince Potter Wandering Soul

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Lord Regent Nelron of the Aldmeri Dominion
25th of Midyear
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Capital of the Dominion


The elder Altmer sat weakly on the Throne of Summer, seeming to nearly struggle breathing in his old age. Several Thalmor officials loitered in his court, as well as a few members of the Order of the Eight. A middle-aged Altmer female would enter into the palace, dressed in the robes of the Arcane Society.

Approaching the new Lord Regent, she saw the Justicar Revin acting as the new Regent’s cupbearer. she would kneel and then speak;

“Arch-Mage Nelron, I have reported as you have summoned. What would you have me do?” Spoke the female, as she stared at the glass floor of the palace, there were carpets of intricate silks on it which seemed to intertwine and seemingly slithered as one.

“I would have the Society begin researching some way of binding massive amounts of arcane energy into a living thing. I was working on this project back at the Society before I was called to serve as Regent for the Lord Admiral. I would have you continue it, and perhaps find a way of getting around the problems with it I could not.” He spoke warily, his breaths coming ragged and seemingly without rhythm.

Her eyes widened with the severity of her assignment, and she nodded seriously, before looking up to the seated Arch-Mage. He smiled tiredly, but with the warmth of an elder.

“My research notes and the like are in the Arch-Mage’s chambers at the Society, I would have you take over there for me in my stead. Imagine it as using a Soul Gem to harness the life force of a being, except the Soul Gem is actually a Being. I suppose related to the Dragonborn, except with Magicka instead of dragon souls. Can you do this for me, Valina?” He asked, closing his eyes tiredly.

“It will be done, my Lord Regent.” She said, standing and nodded to him. Her eyes met with the Justicar Revin, and a chill ran up her spine. Something was not right in all this, but the Lord Regent dismissed her then, and she was forced to leave with her mind occupied by her new mission.
Agent Aiden of the Renshi, Servant to the Aldmeri Dominion.
25th of Midyear
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Capital of the Dominion.


“Are you sure you can handle this?” Walden asked the younger Altmer youth who stood before them, dressed from head to toe in Official Thalmor garments.

“As ready as I will ever be, Lord General.” The boy swallowed nervously and adjusted a button on his silky and slick jet black Thalmor jacket.

“I believe in ya, Aiden . Just relax and you will do fine. Remember, this is for the Dominion. For Aelid!” Said the older Imperial Noblemen.

The lad took a deep breath and rushed around the corner from where the two crouched, and approached the same oak tree with the rose bush that Walden had found yesterday. Revin and several co-conspirators were gathered around, whispering dark things to each other. The youth approached them, and spoke nervously for several minutes. Though Walden crouched and tried his hardest to listen, he could not hear.

Aiden approached them, and they cast suspicious eyes upon the youth. Yet a cold wave of calm descended upon him, its roots in his Renshi training. He spoke with a cold malice few Altmer could match;

“I heard you would replace this weak Regent and reform the Dominion more to Thalmor liking. I have come to aid you in this.” He spoke evenly.

“And how are we to know we can trust you, stranger?” Spoke Revin, the apparent ringleader of the conspiracy.

“I would perform tasks as you wish. To prove my loyalty to the Thalmor.” Aiden spoke, and as he did now the female Thalmor spoke now on his behalf.

“What of Nelron? Surely we can use him to assassinate the Regent and get it over with or some such thing. The Regent is weak.

“Yes, Nelron is old and feeble. The poison I have been slipping him will kill him perhaps within a week tops, and I’m afraid assassination is too risky, at least a quick one would be. The title of Lord Regent shall then pass onto the highest ranking Thalmor in Alinor, which happens to be me. Once I take the Regency, I shall receive orders from the High Justicar on our next move to consolidate our power.” Spoke Revin optimistically, unaware of the traitor in their midst. A idea seemed to come to him.

“I would have you sent as Steward to the new temporary Arch-Mage of the Arcane Society. Keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t come too close to the truth of our plot. I’ve a bad feeling about her...” Revin spoke ominously.

Aiden nodded and slid back, already preparing for his new job.
Lord Admiral Orthos of the Royal Fleet
25th of Midyear
Abecean Sea


The Aldmeris swayed in the sea as lightly as a feather, the golden ridges of the ship splashed with salty water. It’s sails appeared to be near made of spider silk, or as if a bird could easily fly through it and send the whole thing tumbling apart. Thus was the ingenious of the Altmer, who’s ships were some of the fastest and lightest in all of Nirn. This flagship of the Dominion was better equipped than most war ships of the Dominion, having a large under deck to carry large amounts of troops as well as sailors, and a private chamber for a group of battle-mages to be kept at.

The idea was that during intense battles, the Mages would be able to shield and protect the ship from incoming enemy fire. It had been originally designed by the Arch-Mage Nelron many, many years ago when he was still a young member of the Society. The Captain’s Quarters looked every bit the Altmer craftsmanship as the rest of the boat, with the interior walls draped with soft fabrics with intricate design.

The colors of the Fleet reminded the eye of their home, of summer. Many of the ships were painted golden, crimson, even kept a wooden brown, though sanded and shined until it looked as fine as the glass the elves were famous for.

“Our ships are preparing to form the Blockade, Lord Admiral. We discovered a small group of Hammerfell scouting ships which attempted to flee after we discovered them. We destroyed all but two of the ships, one of which actually set itself ablaze rather than fa capture. The last… escaped.” Spoke the First Mate of The Aldmeris with apprehension, knowing the wrath of his Admiral.

“Escaped!? How could mere men escape the Altmer at sea?” He asked, disgusted, staring at a map of the sea on the center table of the quarters. He looked at his ships carefully, plotting his next move. He had to choose carefully, or risk the Dominion.

“We are not sure, my Lord. But the ship was on fire, and the majority of the crew killed when it escaped. I assure you, with any luck they won’t have gotten far.” Spoke the Altmer.

“Men and Fools believe in luck, you know this!” Growled the Admiral through clenched teeth, already picturing the ship fleeing to Stros M’kai to warn the fleet. Yet then the idea came to him, and he knew what he needed to do.

“How many ships are needed to keep up this blockade of Valenwood? I wouldn’t have anything slipping by.” Asked the Admiral, staring at the island fortress on the map.

“Our forces could make do with as little as a hundred ships in securing Valenwood from unauthorized naval transport.” Spoke the sailor.

The Lord Admiral looked to his maps only a moment before deciding. "The Yokudan breed like vermin, and number too great even for our superior Mer craftmenship. Blast the Blockade, we won't need it if there's no Hammerfell to send people... Rally all two hundred ships and have them follow The Aldmeris to leave the rest of the Fleet tonight. We will sail for Stros M’Kai, and strike at it at first light tomorrow morn. Aldmeri ships are faster than those of Men, and if we hurry we can still yet strike at Stros M’Kai before their wounded ship can hope to return to port and warn them.” Spoke the Admiral gravely, knowing he was sending many Altmer to their deaths. Yet this was war. He wordlessly waved the First Mate away, sending him to his tasks.

Actions:
- The Arch-Mage is now Regent!
-New temporary Arch-Mage of the Society!
-Renshi Agent has infiltrated Thalmor Conspiracy!
-Dominion Flagship and Royal Fleet of 200 sail towards Stros M’Kai after cleansing the Northern Valenwood Sea of Undesirables.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by scarend
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Ab'Farahn set off from the summit, and headed to Elsweyr. He wondered what the contingency plan was. Soon, on his way through Cyrodiil he will inform Count Leyawiin that the peace had failed. "The peace has failed." he will say "What now?" He will ask ,while examining Leyawiin hall's beautiful structure. "You have a nice place here, but is it strong?" he will compliment the count.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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A rider from Blackmarsh

The Soldier upon the back of the horse rode across the marsh towards Cyrodiil, an abundance of letters in hand regarding the current deals in hand. These included letters to be dispatched across Tamriel, such as the one to Skyrim concerning the taming of the trolls and the dispatch of an emmisary to Orismer, behind him rode two other soldiers, weapons in hand as an escourt. They would ride with Ab'Farahn until the Cyrodiil border, and from there ride north to the Imperial City...
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by POOPHEAD189
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POOPHEAD189 Worrier

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Kiryat Island, off the coast of Morrowind
19th of Midyear
Abasi-Kil and Oravos
General Abasi-Kil approached the Nerevarine with his entourage. On his right was the Kamal commander Hakkeam, a two and half meter tall giant clad in full adamantium armor. On his right was Tang Mo commander Xing, a monkey-like shinobi dressed in enchanted black leather, which muffled his footsteps. Behind the general was two more Tsaesci, one in quicksilver armor while the other in a scarlet robe, respectively, they were the Dragonguard captain and the Imperial battlemage.

When the Abasi's group came into sight of Oravo's, everyone, except for Abasi and Oravo, stopped in their tracks and stared in disbelief. Looking to his subordinates, Abasi noticed their hands' positions, right over whatever weapons they carried. Turning his gaze back to the opposing side, Oravo's companions made similar motions.

"So this is the legendary Oravos," Dragonguard captain Matiyahu-Zvi whispered. "I expected him to be taller."

Abasi ignored the captain's comment, from his experience, size made little differences between elite warriors. The general inch forward, speaking first to break the ice.

"Glad to see you once again, old friend" Abasi-Kil greeted, he extended his right hand to shake Oravos'. "Come to the tents, we have refreshments for you and your companions."

Oravos' guards seemed smaller than the guards of Abasi-Kil, but their heights didn't make them feel any less, they were the finest Dunmer soldier Morrowind has seen, that honor itself empowered them to face anything in Nirn. All of his guard detail came from the elites of the royal army, they were all skilled and unflinchingly loyal only to Oravos, that they would rather die just to save his life.

"Likewise old friend." Oravos replied, he reached Abasi-Kil's right hand with his own, before shaking it firmly. "Ah, before we go, I have something for you."

At that same moment Oravos mentions the word something, one of the Dunmer servants lifted the Ancient Dagoth Brandy bottle he was holding, and knelt with one knee before Abasi-Kil, offering the General to take the bottle.

"I remember telling you about the finest liquor I had in Tamriel... here is it my friend, I hope you'll enjoy it like I did." Oravos says calmly before walking towards the tents along with his companions.

A bottle of Dagoth Brandy, the famed drink of Morrowind Oravos always spoke of. The army had strict regulation regarding the consumption of alcohol while on duty, but the drink would prove handy in erasing frustration during prolonged campaigns. Not to be outdone with gifts, Abasi-Kil order his guardsman forward with a gift of his own, a box of the finest Eastern spice.

"You expressed your preference for those spices," Abasi explained. "Those are the finest from our herbalists."

As the Nerevarine as his entered the largest tent, Abasi poured a cup of rice fine-brew and forwarded the cup to the Nerevarine. "So it begins," the General started, he nodded to Captain Matiyahu-Zvi, who unfolded a map of Nirn across the table. "My ancestors have attempted the very same venture I am about undertake, but this time, my people are no longer alone."

Captain Matiyahu-Zvi slithered to the table, he placed several markers on the map. "As you are well aware, lord Oravos, our invasion would start from the east and the north." the Dragonguard explained. "We have chosen Skyrim as our northern route, specifically, Windhelm and Winterhold. On our eastern front, we seek to land at the harbor of Thorn."

"Yes," Abasi followed. "We would require a port on Solstheim as the staging area for our northern attack*. As for the East, Thorn would be open to your trade parties once a stable occupation can be established."

Before he turned the conversation to Oravos, Abasi made one last request. "Lastly, we seek to open another front, a surprise attack." the general described. "My ancestor, Versidue-Shaie, failed to reach inland through the northern mountains. If two of our most elite battalions can trek through Morrowind, we would be able to execute an expected attack on the heartland of this continent."

The imperial battlemage, Sacharen-Regev was the last to speak among the Tsaesci delegation. "Lord Oravos, aside from the guaranteed safety of Morrowind, both of us have much to gain from our cooperation." she said the Dunmers. "My mages are capable of manipulating weather, some of our techniques could assist in pacifying the dangerous natural phenomenons existing around the Red Mountain. In addition, the imperial engineers stand ready for construction projects, which can greatly expand the infrastructures of Morrowind. Those exchanges would be the pillars to our future trade, both of our people have great number of services and goods to offer."

Eastern Spices, the thing that satisfied Oravos' culinary cravings during his stay on the Eastern continent. If there was anything that he loved about that land except for the battles, it would be the spices. It will prove be very useful to incite Oravos' appetite during the stressful events that is to come.

Upon entering the tent, the first thing Oravos noticed was the large fur rug that was laid upon the floor. He could already imagine the screams of the Khajiits if they were able to see such a thing laid before their eyes. Seeing the map on the table, Oravos examined the piece of paper while Matiyahu-Zvi begins to lay out the plans.

After a few moments of thinking in silence, Oravos breaks his silence, and begins to speak on Morrowind's behalf.

"The Nords have given the land of Solstheim to my people in their time of need, supporting Akavir against the Nords will not only bring dishonor to our kin, but also lose the support of those who I govern." Oravos says in a stern manner before speaking again. "However, if Morrowind is to withdraw from the island... your forces could seize it before the Nords could even reoccupy it. No one will ever know of Morrowind's indirect involvement." Oravos added, while pointing his finger along the mountain ranges on Morrowind's borders.

"Your battalion will be free to pass through Morrowind to reach Cyrodiil through the Valus Mountains. Southern Morrowind was evacuated upon my return years back, rest assured your battalions will suffer to hindrance from our men." says Oravos who suddenly remembers Cheydinhal. "In return for this, I wish to ask from your battalion to spare the town of Cheydinhal, most its citizens are our kinsmen, we would prefer their lives be spared and be turned over to Morrowind. Not only will it garner an honorable reputation for your battalion, it would also improve the Dunmer's opinion towards your people."

After looking at the Valus pass, Oravos turned his eyes on Thorn. "The Argonians are holding a summit in Stormhold as we speak. If you move your forces quickly enough, you might catch the Argonians still distracted by the summit. If you want to wait the summit to end, your army can take refuge in Tear and strike from there." stated by Oravos, who removes his hands on the map, and crosses his arms together.

"Your support will be gladly welcomed in Morrowind. We are currently on the state of improving the entirety of the province, and with the Akaviri's help, I'm sure it will benefit both our factions soon enough." Oravos says before looking at the Dominion's lands. "The Elves of Tamriel share a certain hatred for the Imperials and other races, I'm sure they could benefit Akavir if you try to bring them to your fold."

Abasi-Kil nodded as Oravos made various pointers on the map. Indeed, just as he had proven before, the Nerevarine was no stranger to strategies and tactics.

"Yes, I see we have some common agreements here." Abasi noted. "Perhaps it would be best for your people to briefly vacant Solstheim. When the initial stage of our attack passes, we shall depart the island for your citizens to return."

"Also," Kamal commander Hakkeam interjected, low bass voice booming in the tent. "My men have no need of your cities, a good landing site is all we need."

"We promise safety of Cheydinhal," Abasi-Kil continued, he was a man of honor, but if the situation dictates, the safety of his soldiers will be the priority. "Only if they do not attack us."

"If I may," Tang Mo commander Xing said. The shinobi stood on a small platform, where his short height could be compensated. "I will send warriors of the Zhu and Jin clans, along with a Dragonguard detachment to Argonia. They will act as the forward strike force, directly attacking Stormhold and interrupt its summit. I will personally lead the other clans to Tear, this main assault group will commence attack on Thorn a few days later."

"My Dragonguards are ready," Captain Matiyahu suggested as he drew a line from Kiryat to Stormhold. "If we start moving right now, we should reach the city in less than five days."

"No," Abasi shook his head in refusal, while he can see the benefit in this operation, the risk is simply too great. "Commander Xing and Captain Matiyahu will stop briefly at Tear to trade supplies, before attacking Thorn. You always wished to see our full might in action, my old friend, looks like we finaly have a chance to grant you that wish. Commander Xing will permit a small group of observer aboard his ship when he docks at Tear. if you desire, they could stay on our vessels and watch our attack on Thorn."

Oravos nodded to Abasi upon hearing what they said. He always knew Abasi-Kil was a well calculated man, and to have such companions around him, Akavir can rest easy that its army is in good hands

"I guess briefly leaving the land will work, I'll think of something to draw my people back to the mainland, so they won't interfere with your army." Oravos said, he was already thinking of a plan while he uttered those words.

"I'm glad to hear your promise" He says, but he knew the people of Cheydinhal wasn't his own, by paper. "Just save as many civilians as you can. I know you have your duties to your men, and I wouldn't want you to risk their lives to save some citizens that might not heed even Morrowind as their home."

Upon hearing the mention of Tear, and Abasi-Kil's final orders, Oravos spoke. "I agree, Tear can resupply your men with the necessary supplies they need before the assault. Its better to be well prepared, than risk a defeat."

"I would be honored to be on your vessel at that time.. but I must attend to our capital and settle things for the arrival of your forces. I'll send Ildoryn in my behalf, I'm sure you've met him before in Akavir, he wasn't too sure about the Akaviri's might, perhaps you can change his mind during that event." Oravos uttered as he injects a name that Abasi-Kil rarely heard before.

"I'm sure you'll have plenty of battles for me to watch in the future, maybe, I could even show you the might of the Dunmer ias well, if the situation allows it." Oravos' expression can't be seen, but Abasi-Kil knew that behind the mask, he was smiling.

"Then it is set," Abasi concluded. He escorted Oravos to his ships, where the two shook hands before departing to their separate ways. Within hours, the Akaviri ships were on their way to rendezvous with the main fleet, once that is complete, the assault would begin.
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by darkwolf687
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Out at sea

The captain looked out over the sea's, watching for any sign of the pirates. They small group of ships had been ordered out to Torval several days ago, and the Captain had heard of troubles in this region of the waters... Ships disappearing and the like... He had kept the men alert and vigilant, but none of them were too worried. Many didn't think that anyone, other than perhaps the Thalmor, would risk attacking the Empire. The captain wasn't so sure, the sea's could be a dangerous place, but the best he could do was keep both eyes opened...

Imperial city

The emperor looked over the agreements from the summit, taking the wax seal and burning it on to the bottom of each one, before scribbling in parchment and handing it out to the various waiting messengers. An emmisary was to prepare for a visit to Orsinium... And they were to acquire information on troll taking from the north... An alliance had been brokered and a peace made... Trade deals... The councillor had been busy for sure, and from what he knew the summit wasn't completed yet...
Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by sandman9913
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sandman9913 Lord of Shovelry

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4th of Sun’s Height, 4E 205

The Favor of Malacath, Part II


Gurzuk gro-Golmur, Orsinium

Gurzuk eyed the assembled team before him. Five of Orsinium’s best warriors gathered before him, each one of them battle-tested in skirmishes against bandits and marauding brigands within the past three years. He knew each and every single one of them by name, and was a sword-brother to each of them. All of them were honor bound to fight alongside each other, such was the oath they had taken when they had entered the Army of Orsinium. Now, they were all leaving together. He knew some of them wouldn’t return…but he was alright with that. He had come to understand that death was not an ending, merely another beginning for the next life.

Gurzuk came to a halt in his pace as they stood there and began to speak to them, “Sword-brothers and sisters, today…” he thought for a moment, trying to keep up with his own mind, “Today we begin a long journey. We have been charged with finding, and bringing home the hammer Volendrung.” The five of them looked taken aback, hell, Gurzuk was sure that he had heard one of the gasp. Gol stood next him and chuckled at the sight, but Gurzuk’s look back to her silenced her rather quickly. He held up his hand and brought them all to a silence, beginning once more, “Now then, I understand that this will be a difficult task for all of us. Some of us will not be coming back from this journey, and that…that is okay. We all know the risks once we step outside the walls of Orsinium. Our safety ends once we leave…hell, let’s be honest. We hardly had any safety to begin with. However! We will get that damned hammer back, even if we have to die trying!” The five of them gave a roar and Gurzuk howled his own roar alongside them, as did Gol.

“Now then, let’s move out! To Largashbur!” Gurzuk cried as the seven of the warriors set off on their journey, to Largashbur.
25th of Midyear, 4E 205

Hlaalu Grandmaster Ilyn Ondrano, Gnisis

Ilyn stared out the window, his red eyes studying the city of Gnisis as he stood there, waiting on the last Councilor to arrive. The lot of them looked like they were conspiring to commit an act of murder or high treason…well, to be clear, they were planning to commit and act of murder, and possibly high treason, but for the potential gain they were willing to weather the risk. As he stood there, Ilyn heard the door open, and then close once more. In marched Farwyn Arnen, Master of the House Guard. Ilyn smiled and approached Farwyn, slapping his back like an old comrade, “Farwyn! Good to see you!” Farwyn reciprocated his grin and wrapped his arm around Ilyn’s shoulder, “Ilyn! You smarmy bastard. What have you called me here for today?”

The two of them descended the stairs and there they were, the rest of the Council of House Hlaalu. All in one spot. “Well, Farwyn…” Ilyn began, “We’re taking over Gnisis. Plain and simple. That Dres lapdog s’wit Nilphas Seringi must be put down, swiftly too. Now then, here is the plan…” Ilyn pulled out a map of Gnisis, “The town hall is here, in the main square. Arvas, your operatives will eliminate Nilphas and escape quickly. Now, from what we have observed thanks to Nidryne’s networks are a lapse in guard changes from 12 High Noon, to about an hour after. Farwyn, this is where you and the House Guard come in. Three squadrons of spearmen will block the entrances while a squadron of sharpshooters ensures that Dres supporters do not interfere. From there, we will chalk it up to radicals from the underground, and nab the election due to our House composing most of the electorate. Fadren Adram will be mayor, and thus we will hold Gnisis. For the time being at least. We’ll have to prepare for a Dres retaliation, but that is a necessary risk.”

Ilyn looked at a greater map of Vvardenfell and looked to Nidryne, “We need to focus our information gathering efforts on Hla Oad and Gnaar’mok. Tell your people to keep their ears to the ground about Dres retaliation.” Nidryne nodded and sighed, “Do you still want feelers in Cheydinhal?” Ilyn nodded, “That is still a top priority, but the Dres situation will take a similar status.” Nidryne nodded and took notes, encoding them as a recipe for security purposes. With that, the councilors rose and began to go their separate ways, their plot cooked ready for the next day. On the afternoon of the 26th of Midyear, Nilphas Seringi would die.
23rd of Midyear, 4E 205

???, Seyda Neen


Night had fallen on Balmora, and the courier still had a bit to go. Step one. The moonlight reflected off the still murky water. Though the ash had quit falling, the waters remained murky. It would take some time for the waters to clear, at least that is what the courier wagered. Step two. The courier began to approach the house, a mere feet away from where the old Imperial Census and Excise office stood. Step three. The courier’s fist rapped on the door.

The door opened slowly, a gravelly voice let out a roar of, “Who in the name of Oblivion is here at this hour!?” The courier was a little taken aback, before he responded, “I have a message from a…Nelandria Moran?”

The door swung open and the courier was snatched inside, a somewhat older Dunmer, presumably in his early 400s, eyed the courier before snatching the letter out of his hand and tipping him, for his trouble, “There you go. Now leave me alone.” The old Dunmer opened the letter and began to read it,



With that, Draren burned the letter and began to prepare.
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Thorn, Black Marsh
24th of Midyear, 4E 205
Sha’eek, the Shadowscale Mistress
___

After having dealt with the sea-borne threat of the pirates, Sha'eek made her way to the closest Argonian settlement which happened to be Thorn. For the longest time, Thorn had the prestigious title of the most heavily fortified city in Black Marsh, due to its close proximity with the norther neighbors of Morrowind. The ceasefire between the two nations had always been strenuous, with the last attack having been an Argonian assault, many years ago.. It had high walls for an Argonian city, depending more on the crafted defenses than other cities in the Marsh.

Sha'eek was resting in the city's central structure, having announced her presence to the Lord of Thorn, an Argonian by the name of Barkaan. Barkaan was one of the more elderly members of the leader council, but that just meant he was cunning enough to survive the usurpers. Sha'eek decided to wait a few days in the city, until Rules-with-Claw called for her again. An assassin rarely got days off, and she took them willingly.

___

Archon, Blackmarsh
27th of Midyear, 4E205
Speaks-with-Songs

___

The grand Hist-ee was a patient being. When he had initially received the order from his lord to extract amounts of sap from the Hist, he had been reluctant at first. The hist were sentient and ageless and the link they had with the Argonians was beyond compare. No matter what the results of the summit, none alliance would come close to the alliance with the Hist trees. It had taken nearly a day of negotiation for the Hist-ee to agree, as Rules-With-Claw explained the importance of the sap, as well as promised the small scale of the extraction required.

Whereas it had taken so long for the Hist-ee to be convinced, it took nearly no time at all to convince the Hist itself. The trees understood both the importance of the extraction and the relative non-effect it would have on them. For such a small price, so very much could be gained by the Argonians. The sap Rules-With-Claw had taken with him to the summit was highly diluted. Close to 1/15th the solution was concentrated sap, and the rest was a mix of other chemicals, including a large percentile of water.

The room the Hist-ee worked in was stuffy and shockingly smoggy. The air would choke a lesser being, but the Argonian worked at his pestle and his other alchemical devices none the less. He had nearly finished the first batch of Pure-Hist sap, and was delighted by the effects. The people of Archon, less so. Few people were exactly pleased with the calming effect a city-wide Soothe spell had on the productivity of its citizens, after all.

The batch was ready an hour later, and had been sent by courier to the Helstrom academy of mages. In the hand of such potent spell-casters, who knows what the Sap might do?

___

Stormhold, Black Marsh
26th of Midyear, 4E 205
Stalks-The-Stars
___

Most argonians did not dream, instead falling into blank slumber when the night called. It was an odd condition, but it was true. There was no scientific reason for it, perhaps they simply lacked the imagination or perhaps it had to do with the link to the Hist, but dreams were rare for the Lizard folk. Some went years without a dream.

Stalks-The-Stars rarely slept without a dream.

It was a familiar dream: Stalks-The-Stars walked in the Hunting grounds, closing in on an unfortunate piece of prey. The stalk had been delicious and the kill was all but assured. Stalks-The-Stars bore down upon the prey, a stag, before it stood on two legs. It turned and faced him, revealing the Stag to be changed into the form of Hircine himself.

"Hunter, you are soon to enter a time of great hunting. My summoning day was recent, and my power remains great. I offer you a gift, champion: so that you may bare down on the prey that approaches you. Take my spear, so that my honour may be spread by your hunt."

The gift was a beautiful one, the curved spear of Hircine himself lay just within his reach. He just needed to reach out and...

Stalks-The-Stars snapped awake, his eyes were wide as he reached for a dagger that lay beside his bed. Something was resting at his bed: a wolf, with the spear of Hircine in its maw. The wolf lay low and let the spear drop to the floor, which Stalks-The-Stars went over to reach.

"For the hunt, indeed."

___

Lilmoth, Black Marsh
25th of Midyear, 4E205
Messenger

___

Arriving at Lilmoth a shortly after the Summit's end, the Messenger delivered a message to the garrisoned leader of the An-Xileel branch to send the peacekeepers to South Elsewyr. The message was met with much grumbling, but the official seal of Stalks-The-Stars held much weight amongst the Argonians. The note was quickly burned and soon, two hundred soldiers were armed, armoured and sent towards Southern Elsewyr via boat. If nothing else, the Argonians would be known as an honest people, and Stalks-The-Stars would fulfill his promise of soldiers for keeping the peace. Two-hundred armoured Argonians would do much for the Southern people, if only as a deterrent to the North that any dead argonians would likely incite a war.

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Leyawiin, Cyrodiil
Ab'Farahn arrived at Leyawiin, he approached the gates and was granted entrance by the guards, he then headed up to the castle and asked for entrance. Again, he was granted entrance. Inside of the hall he approached the count. "You have a nice place here, count Leyawiin. But is it strong?" He asked rhetorically "The peace has failed. Ab'Farahn was told to inform you by the Councillor at the Argonian summit. This one would assume you would know what to do. Ab'Farahn would like to talk more, but I am in a hurry and must find the Governor Militant. Goodbye, Count." He finished. He quickly left Leyawiin and continued his journey to the Governor Militant.

Elsweyr

Ta'fel had gathered his men. "Men," He started "We can not wait any longer for Ab'Farahn, the more time we waste, the more time the enemy have to prepare. Because of this, Ta'fel has decided that we will march towards Torval! If we can take Torval back, not much will stand in our way. Men! We march towards Torval!" Ta'fel's men roared and they marched towards Torval.
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Riders

As one Imperial agent rode his horse across the border, riding deeper into Skyrim through the pass, heading toward Castle Dawnguard, his comrade on the other side of Tamriel rode into Valenwood, with the purpose on delivering a message to Legate Barus concerning his newest orders. Likewise, a rider to Bruma ensured that an Emissary was ready for a visit to Orsinium...

Leyawiin

The Count gathered together the force he had within the city and informed them of the situation. They reinforced the borders with Elsweyr, and strengthened their city fortifications, as well as sending in a small contingent of 100 Guardsmen, whose purpose is to reinforce the current Garrison of the City of Corinthe to assist in peacekeeping. It may not be much, but he had no doubt it would be enough, while the fighters guild has been hired to harass the souths supply lines and defeat their patrols.
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20th Midyear 4E, 205
Roark Farandras
Ald'ruhn, Vvardenfell

The sound of metal clashing against each other filled the halls of the foundry. Everyone inside was sweating like a mad beast as the heat of the molten mineral seeps into their skin. But the smiths of the Dunmer and Orsimer were no strangers to heat, for in their profession, the hotter it is, the better for their blade. All but one among the people in the foundry stood out, as his clothes seems to contrast the environment around him

"How are the men doing" Roark asks one of the Dunmer supervisors. "Our men are getting along pretty well with the Orcs, heck, they even look up to them. It looks like your speech proved more worthwhile than you've expected."

Roark watched the smiths work continuously on the task they were given. Strangely the smiths weren't working on the usual Dunmer inspired weapons, but instead, were working on something influenced not of Tamrelic nature.

"The men will finish the contract on the date we've settled, House Redoran will have the new arms they need." said the supervisor. Roark nodded in response, he was a man of few words, but in things like these, the supervisors wished he'd say anything about the matter.
20th Midyear 4E, 205
Telvanni Master Neloth
Molag Mar, Vvardenfell

In the middle of a small pit that used to be core of a Dwemeric pipe, was Azarkan, the Golem construct of Neloth for Morrowind. Azarkan's training partners shook on the ground they stood upon, after seeing the sight of the monster they are about to fight with. None can actually face the Golem without thinking of running away due to its menacing presence.

"Are the next batch ready?" Says Neloth who was standing on a platform overlooking Azarkan train himself with the use of the Daedric Crescent given by the Nerevarine.

"Yes master Neloth, they need only the enchantments requested by our King." says one of the Telvanni mages assigned to the place.

"Excellent, I'm expecting the quality of the enchantments are fit to the taste of the King, I don't like my reputation ruined." Replied by the Mage-Lord. The Telvanni mage leaves Neloth after hearing those words, but not without bowing respectfully first. Neloth then turns his head back to Azarkan who was done slaying a part of the Argonian captives in Tear. The corpses was either burned, crushed, or cut in half by the Golem Commander.

"Now.. Vangaurd of Morrowind.. you are free to do whatever you like." says Neloth who leaves the platform, letting Azarkan as he pleases with the corpses.
25th Midyear 4E, 205
Eltheric Ocean, Day and a half south of Sunhold.

King Orgnum bowed his head to the Dunmer, indicating he wished to speak to his crew privately. Some talk ensued before the front of his rich green robe could once again be seen glimmering in the sun. “Your emissary is invited to step foot on our boat, and so is anyone else from Morrowind, provided that they be unarmed. Our people will come aboard yours, also unarmed, at the same rate yours comes aboard ours.” He smiled under his lengthy beard while addressing the emissary. “It looks like we have a hostage situation, if only we were at war. Come, come, taste some jungle fruit and tell me what has made you sail all the way out here.”

A Dunmer wearing a black robe with the Nerevarine’s insignia etched on the cloth, stepped forward along with two other men, who was wearing an armor made of Chitin. The men were cautious as they walk on the ship’s deck, it was the first time they’ve ever met a Maomer, and their expectations of what they were like, made them more uneasy.

Upon reaching a room inside the Maomer ship, the Dunmer emissary takes the jungle fruit offered to him, and takes a small bite from it. The juices of the fruit seeped into his mouth, while he chews on the flesh of the fruit that was softer than any fruit he ever tasted. It was a delight that no other Dunmer experienced, which made him lose every concern of his safety, and the crew.

“Our King, Oravos the Nerevarine, slayer of the false gods Almalexia and Dagoth Ur, wishes to extend the opportunities that Morrowind has to offer to our cousins hidden by the mist.”

As the Dunmer stepped onto his boat, Orgnum and his men extended their left arms forward slightly. Staves slithered from under their sleeves and onto the ground before stiffening. Orgnum handed his staff to the emissary with a curt nod and a wry smile.

The King led the emissary to his quarters in the back of the boat. Orgnum’s quarters were furnished with serpentine themes chairs, tables, desks, and paintings. The snakes and snakely creatures were carved crawling up the legs and frames of nearly everything. From the head of one serpent at his table Orgnum procured two goblets. He pressed the goblets to the forked tongue of the snake, and from its fangs flowed out a white liquid.

“Abbarbas’s own Misty Waters.” Indeed, when he handed the cup to the Dunmer the liquid had lost its white colour and was instead bubbling softly giving the top of it the appearance of mist.

Orgnum gave voice and a crew member brought in strange delicacies comprised of beaked reptiles with domed shells (Orgnum inhaled deeply at the passing of this dish, a lavish smile on his face) and many fish Tamriel has no knowledge of. One fishe’s scales shimmered oily colours and flower-like sprouts seemed to be a normal part of another.

“Which opportunities are those?” The old wizard king asked, waiting for the Dunmer to begin eating.

When the delicacies was revealed to the weary Dunmer trio, all of them couldn’t stop but follow the sight of freshly cooked food. Most of the food presented was foreign to them, but it didn’t stop the Dunmer to take a piece of the everyting on the table.

Only the emissary held his composure and remained with an empty plate as he talk to King Orgnum. “Morrowind offers its newly found riches, and collected knowledge to the Maomer people. We are known throughout Tamriel as a major source of Ebony and Raw Glass, something that my King believes your people will be interested in. The knowledge to produce Chitin and Netch armors are also offered by my people, along with the Military arts practiced by my kin.” The Emissary says, who eventually gave in, and indulged himself with a plate of a lobster looking delicacy laid on the table.

Orgnum listened to the emissary. Several times he gave looks to his crew, ordering them with his eyes to stay calm. “Ah, our people care not for monetary concerns. Your resources, however, will certainly be welcomed trade. We can offer you our Quicksilver and Moonstone ores in return. Our own chitin provides much of what we craft with but I am curious as to the qualities of yours.” Orgnum takes a sip of his drink. “My appraisal of your own vessel, if you don’t mind hearing it, is that you are in need of some quality shipbuilders. We have the finest inside and outside of Tamriel. They are doubly as good as the Altmer, whom only learned seacraft as a necessity of defending themselves from us. We can craft the Nerevarine impressive heavy warships, burgeoning mercantile vessels, and grand statesmen boats, from the chitin you export. Both countries benefit from the deal, but payment is something of a concern. As I’ve said, our people have no monetary concerns, ourselves being independently wealthy, but we can certainly accept your military proposal as payment provided that the Dunmer are fierce and strong warriors. You may expect us soon.”

Orgnum took a bite of the reptile dish, savouring the rich flavour. He looked intently at the emissary, containing a giggle. Now was definitely not the time for those.

“I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the Dunmer’s way of crafting chitin. You’ll find it exceptionally resistant to flames that might burn the hull of your ships, and resilient to the corrosive salt of the seas.” The emissary says before taking a sip from the cup filled with water from Abbarbas.

“Your appraisal of our ship is right, Morrowind is more focused on its land forces that, our navy is close to non-existent. I can assure you the Dunmer are worthy to share its art in military combat to the Maomer. Our leader expanded our military knowledge with Akaviri techniques, that even the Imperials doesn’t know about.” added by emissary who takes his pause to take a piece of the lobster like meat into his mouth.

Orgnum’s eyes widened slightly at the emissary’s words. Me motioned a crewmember over and whispered into his ear. A fresh dish was brought out, this one much different from the exotic and tropical ones of before.

“The meat before you, I’m sure you are wondering about it, is freshly obtained from outside of Pyandonea. It is foreign to us so much so that we haven’t had a chance to try many recipes with it. I am impressed with the offer of such a well learned army. Truly it is fortuitous that our people have no past history, and therefore no grudges to keep secrets hidden behind, and I have decided to break this new meat with you. It,” the King said with an air indicative of high tastes, “Is Khajiit brought from Torval. We have skooma as well should you wish to indulge.”

The deathless Maormer separated the meat into two bowls and gave the Dunmer one of them. From his bowl he took a small portion to the window which dominated the stern of his quarters. He set it on the sil, opened the window, and thrust his arms towards the sky. A great welling of magicka was felt and Orgnum’s skin briefly took on a milky scaled appearance before settling back to its normal pallor. Dripping ocean water, a gigantic serpent’s head poked into the cabin. Orgnum hissed with it and fed it the Khajiit meat before kissing it and telling it to return to the ocean. He closed the window and apologized to the emissary.

“My apologies, she enjoys new foods and you’d be surprised at how lonely a beautiful creature can be in the oceans. You’d weep if only you knew.” His tone indicated that something other than friendliness motivated the kindness he’d displayed to the serpent summoned and casually sent away.

“And what of the Dunmer magicks?” The flamboyant elf inquired.
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Lord Admiral Orthos of the Royal Fleet
26th of Midyear
Stros M’Kai


The sound of a hundred cannons all being fired at will was loud enough to temporarily deafen the Lord Admiral, as he stood on the deck of the Royal Flag ship. They had arrived at first light just as the Yokudan scouting ship had arrived as well. They fired upon and sunk the scouting ship, though this alerted the Island. With nothing more than a minute or two to prepare, the island soon felt the full force of cannon and spell.

Orthos knew that his foe had a considerably sized fleet, and because of this he ordered his ships to fire firstly upon the docked ships in harbor, sinking half of them before they could even mobilize. As their ships scrambled to attempt to defend the island, it appeared that the fortress itself had properly set up for a siege, and soon a large flaming boulder from a trebuchet was fired over the walls of the castle. The Lord Adrmial was helpless to do anything as the flaming ball of death sailed through the sky and smashed through the deck of the Altmer warship right next to The Aldmeris.

The ship burned heavily and many High Elves screamed in pain, leaping from the boat into the great salty waters. Their ship sank within minutes, yet despite their losses they pushed ever closer inland and the Yokudan Fleet appeared close to breaking and scrambling. Yet it was in there most critical time, that a second flaming ball of death rained down from the heavens, and seemed on a course straight for The Aldmeris when three might Battle-mages from the Arcane Society together cast a ward strong enough to shatter the flaming rock, sending down small flaming stones atop the crew and deck. Fires quickly broke out on the deck, though the damage was much less than it would have been.

Turning to the Battle-Mages, Orthos found two of them still alive, hiding behind the mast both gulping down air and a strange blue liquid. He shouted out over the chaos of the battle;

“Battle-Mages, focus on that damned Trebuchet!” Orthos roared to them, before turning his attention to the waters rapidly filling with burning men and mer and destroyed wood and silks.

It was chaos.
High King Aelid of the Dominion
26th of Midyear
Stormhold, Argonia


The young King was in the Altmer Chambers alone in his room. A single elven candle flickered dimly and he sat upon his bed, wary. He could hardly believe the state of affairs in the world recently, and could even less believe the letter In his hand. The Maormer had chosen now to make their appearance to the world, of all time in his history? Aelid wasn’t even sure if his homeland wasn’t burning as he sat on this bed in this strange land, and he could picture fire consuming the beauty and glass of Alinor with chitin ships in the burning harbors.

A knock came at the door, and Aelid was call them in. It was loyal Dobin, of the Kings guard. He smiled nervously and sat down on a wooden chair near the bed. There was a silence between them for a moment, before Dobin spoke.

“Don’t you worry too much about Alinor, Your Grace. I’m sure Lord Regent Orthos has the situation under control, he is a strong and loyal mer to the Dominion. “

“The Maormer would meet with me out at sea, a trap I sense.” Aelid spoke darkly.

“The Maormer are vicious fighters with a history shrouded in mystery, but they are more honorable then that. I would swear you at worse it would be a declaration of war.” Dobin said in an attempt to comfort the High King.

“Perhaps. I suppose I will send a letter back to Alinor, and tell them I will meet with their King Orgnum at Sea on the First Day of Sun’s Height.” The young King said decidedly.

Dobin nodded in agreement, then spoke.

“It seems they cleared Valenwood’s southern waters for us? Appears they at least want to play at being nice. Would it not be wise to give word to Orthos not to fire upon Maormer ships unless done defensively.” and then stood from his seat.

“Aye, you are correct. I will send word to the Lord Regent as well as to my wishes on how our Maormer brethren are treated.” Aelid said with a yawn.

Dobin made for the door wordlessly, and Aelid would agree with his friends lack of speech, as it would be a long day tomorrow.


Agent Aiden of the Renshi, Servant to the Aldmeri Dominion.
26th of Midyear
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Capital of the Dominion.


The Thalmor double agent Aiden waited impatiently in the Arch-Mage’s chambers as the young woman Valina looked in awe at the notes and figures upon the great desk. Though she was young, she had a brilliant mind for things of magicka, even among her people. She could see the many the obstacles that would be present in infusing such raw amounts of ethereal power into a living body, but it appeared Nelron had worked through many of them during his time at the Society.

Aiden had to admit, she thought the young Altmer was cute, but he had to stay focused on his task of feeding any information he could to the Thalmor to earn their trust. His time as her Steward had been boring, and he had done little other than change silk sheets and prepare her baths. He decided now was the time to make his move.

“What are you studying, Arch-Mage?” inquired the young elf..

“Oh, I’m no Arch-Mage, just warming the chair until Nelron returns from his Regency. But he did leave me some fascinating projects to work on in his absence. It appears the things I will need to start such a venture are expensive and rare, though I think I know where I can get most of them. This will take significant funding.” She worried.

“Will it help the Dominion defeat the Empire and unite all of Mer?” He asked.

“Yes, I suppose it could do that, and potentially much, much, more.” She confided.

Actions:
-Letter to Maormer and Dominion on Aelid's Decision.

-The Royal Fleet lead by Lord Admiral Orthos has engaged the Yokudan at Stros M’Kai!

-Arch-Mage Valina is now hard at work on the new arcane infusion project!

-Agent Aiden now has something to report to the Thalmor!
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26th of Midyear, 4E 205

The Assassination of Nilphas Seringi


Foryn Gilnith, Gnisis

The sun shined down upon the city of Gnisis. It was relatively quiet in the main square, despite the fact that the majority of the city’s business was being done there. Gnisis had that tendency, it was a nice city with a little hustle and bustle, but with plenty of relaxation time that made it feel more like a seaside resort as opposed to the center of commerce and trade that it had become within the past few years. Thousands upon thousands of Dunmer, thriving within the walls of Gnisis. It was a sight to behold.

But none of them were like Foryn.

Foryn Gilnith was a man of some renown in darker circles. He killed an Imperial tax collector back during the Imperial regime. Much has changed in the two hundred years since then, and now Foryn Gilinith no longer lives in Seyda Neen. Now, he lives here, in Gnisis where he is relatively happy and clean. He also has a nice job now as a porter working for a lady named Nidryne Seran. That was how he fell in with House Hlaalu back in 201. He has mostly done odd jobs here and there for them, the kind of stuff that an underling does, y’know? He mostly did the jobs of a mook. Now, though, now was his time for advancement. Now was his time to bask in the light of the sun.

Foryn looked up at his partner who nodded slightly and thus, Foryn coughed rather loudly, sending the signal to the third in their group. In turn, he alerted the fourth. With all of them on the same page, they began to move. Each of their footsteps heralded the approaching doom of Nilphas Seringi.

The guards left for their shift change, as usual, and thus the time lapse had begun. They had approximately thirty minutes to get in and get out. Their lives hinged on being timely, and that was what they were counting on, being timely. The four of them entered the Gnisis Town Hall nonchalantly, making their way through the building as quickly as possible, occasionally walking at a faster pace.

Once they came to his door, Foryn gave the signal, and the four of them put up their black bandanas, masking their faces before knocking on the door. The nasally voice of Seringi came out from behind it, “I’m busy in here!” Foryn began to pound on the door with his fist, before Seringi finally opened the door, “Wha--?!” his shout of anger was cut of by Foryn’s quick jab into his face, breaking Seringi’s nose rapidly.

The others burst in behind Foryn, two of them going after a different agent of House Sadras who just so happened to be delivering the details of the trade agreements to Seringi. Foryn and his partner’s daggers cut Seringi’s flesh into ribbons, his blood decorating the walls of his office with his own blood. The two of them finished, and began to carry out the next part of their orders. The two of them painted ‘SADRAS’ on the wall in Seringi’s blood, before collecting their fellows and awaiting Farwyn.
26th of Midyear, 4E 205

The Assassination of Nilphas Seringi, Part II


Farwyn Arnen, Gnisis

It was approximately ten minutes after Foryn and his companions entered the town hall that the Hlaalu House Guard moved into place at the two entrances. Farwyn could practically feel the glares emanating from the eyes of the bystanders. He knew that House Hlaalu was not well-liked within Morrowind, but he was able to withstand it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived all these years in service to Hlaalu.

As two of the three spearmen squad’s moved into place, blocking off the doors, Farwyn and his squad moved to the mayor’s office where they found the one Hlaalu associate and the three accomplices. He grumbled and took Foryn aside, “Change into a different set of clothes, and clean your dagger.” Foryn then went beyond a corner and began to change into a set of clothes he had saved for after the getaway.

Farwyn approached one of the spearmen, his voice venomous yet soft and even-toned as he gave the order, “Eliminate the loose-ends, Lawman.” With that, the four spearmen approached the three other and put them down swiftly. The first with a quick jab into the skull, the second was shield bashed into the ground before being stabbed in the throat, with the third facing the wrath of two spears puncturing his skull.

The four spearmen alongside Farwyn began to march away, but not without grabbing Foryn first. As they marched along, Farwyn spoke to Foryn, “Know this, assassin. I took no joy in eliminating your companions, but it is the way that we survive in the environment that we are in. We must not let any loose ends be left behind, no matter the cost. I have been informed that for your service, you are hereby anointed a Retainer of House Hlaalu. Take joy in your promotion. You have earned through years of hard work and admirable service to our cause.”

As the six of them exited the town hall, a crowd had gathered around the main entrance, and thus they came. Farwyn standing tall above a shellshocked Foryn, “People of Gnisis!” he exclaimed, “I come to you bearing sad tidings! Our mayor, Nilphas Seringi has been killed by agents of House Sadras! He, along with one of his associates, was butchered like a guar by these animalistic bastards! This loyal member of House Hlaalu,” he gestured to Foryn, “Alerted me of their plot after overhearing of their plot in a cornerclub. I am saddened that I was not able to save him, but his death has been avenged!”

With that, Farwyn and twelve Hlaalu House Guard Members escorted Foryn back to the Hlaalu headquarters to rest.
26th of Midyear, 4E 205

The Spies


Draren Thiralas, Balfalls

Draren and his team stepped off the boat from Seyda Neen to Balfalls, the three of them eager and ready to begin their journey to Cheydinhal. Draren motioned over to a nearby cornerclub, the three of them moving towards it. The three of them entered the cornerclub, rented a room, and rested. Night had already fallen, and despite the higher degree of safety brought about by Oravos’ rule, travelling at night was still not a good idea to pursue. Thus, the three of them rested until the next morning, when they would head out for Kragenmoor, the last stop before Cheydinhal.
23rd of Midyear, 4E 205

The Message Home


Chief Yagurz, Stormhold

Yagurz groaned at the proceedings, the incessant arguing, and final motioned over to one of his guards, handing him a sealed letter detailing the deals that the Orcs had made at the summit so far. “Send a runner out to Orsinium. That letter should beat us home by a day, and then I can begin to talk immediately with King Burkash about the tactical and strategic gain from these moves.” The Orc nodded and took the letter, giving it to a courier to send all the way to Orsinium.
6th of Sun’s Height, 4E 205

The Rebel Queen


General Lagash gro-Nagrum

Lagash spat on the ground as he observed the group of rebels training in hand-to-hand combat. They were a rowdy people that was for sure, almost as rowdy as the Orcs themselves but not quite. He snarled as he walked in front of the rows of them time after time. He had gotten them to learn not to talk back, that was for damned sure. Three days amongst Orcish soldiers had a tendency to do that to people.

Every time he watched them, he saw that some of them lacked spirit, or lacked the will to fight. Others often times had too much will to fight, and end up hurting some of the others, then they have to take the time and the resources to get those men back into shape. Lagash roared at the sky and the lot of them stopped moving, staring at him, as he raged. As he calmed down a little, Lagash began to verbally abuse them…again, “Is this what you damned snowmen call fighting?! All I see here is a bunch of lumbering cockatoos flailing about out here! Malacath damn this thankless exercise why back in the Le-“ A woman from the back shouted back at him, “We aren’t in the Legion now are we?! We are men and women who left our homes for what? This damned desert and you sodding Orcs, that’s what! How about you calm down and get us some sodding water for once you barbaric animal!”

The entire camp was silent for ten minutes. Even Lagash’s own troops remained silent as they watched him, waiting for him to rage and kill the woman. For three days, he had worked these people to the bone. For three days, he had shouted at them, and ground them into the dust…and now, it was some Nord woman who happened to stand up to him. He narrowed his vision, and proceeded through he rows, approaching her rapidly, “You!” He shouted, “What is your name, soldier?”

By this point Lagash was in the woman’s face, and she seemed far less intimidated of him than she probably should have been, “I am Svari Ice-Heart, Shield-Maiden of Riverwood.” Lagash studied her for a moment and then erupted in laughter, barely able to control himself as he spoke, “Fair enough, Svari Ice-Heart! Let it be known, that on this day, Svari Ice-Heart proved herself to be Blood-Kin of the Orcs. You have the stones of a thousand Kings, Blood-Kin…” Lagash began to walk back through the rows, shouting as he did so, “Now then, since she had the courage to fight for her people in their time of need, I announce Svari Ice-Heart as your new leader!”

The group looked like it wanted to erupt into a conflict then and there…but they were a little outgunned by the Orcs. Not in manpower, but in sheer training, equipment, and experience, the lot of them faced no chance, so they relented. Lagash spoke once more, “Now that she is your leader, you will all follow her to the afterlife! Or forever face the eternal damnation of an oath-breaker.” With that Lagash sighed and shouted once more, “Continue!” and thus, training went on.
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24th Mid Year, 205 4E
Coast North of Woodhearth, Valenwood


The last Redguard ship faltered in the waters. The Maormer battlegroup was highly displeased at both the lack of naval presence and the paltry quality displayed by the ships they'd encountered. “Only a dozen kills and not another ship in sight.” grumbled the captain in charge of the force.

Shrill, hissing trumpets sounded from the faster scout ships. They other captains were displeased and low on resources.

“All ships to The Hydra. I want half the fleet to return home. The other half, WE SAIL NORTH. Somewhere in these Satakal forsaken waters is a piss poor excuse for a navy.”

More trumpets sounded and the battlegroup unloaded as many resources as it could into the boats sailing north. The Captain in Command consulted his map. Stros M'Kai... it would provide his people with a great location for launching ships into all of western Tamriel. He bet the Redguards would have a small naval base there as well. They could take the harbour and resupply before sending a message back to Pyandonea.

“All right men. We assault Stros M'Kai. Our orders not to molest Altmer ships unless in self defence still stand. Prepare for battle.”

The southern detachment opened full wing-sail for Pyandonea. The northern detachment followed The Hydra up the coast. They came to signs of battle further on as the sun set. The crow's nest reported Altmer sails, heading the same bearing as they were.

The Captain in Command started for only a moment. His next orders were issued with an excited tone.

“Follow the Altmer, then. Everyone on alternating shifts. Be ready! We won't arrive too far behind them and will aid in their battle.” Orgnum would promote him to admiral if he managed to not only take on an impressive fleet but also broker a peace between the Maormer and the Altmer. Orgnum was keen to never see the combined fleets of Tamriel on his waters again. True there was old hate between his people and the High Elves but they were also the closest relatives, in both blood and culture, to the Maormer. Summerset wasn't going anywhere. With any luck, they'd be in Stros M'Kai at midday.
25th Midyear, 4E 205
Eltheric Ocean


One of the Dunmer crew was shocked at the sight of the Khajiit being served up on a plate, his jaws dropped once King Orgnum slid a bowl in front of them with a piece of the meat, expecting the crew to eat it. The emissary who kept his composure earlier almost broke down on his seat, as his duties as a diplomat demands him to practice the culture of the individuals they are sent to, in this case, the Khajiit dining King Orgnum.

“We are..uhm..honored to dine this, new cuisine with you, King Orgnum.” The emissary says before nudging the crew who was shocked into opening its mouth impolitely. “Indeed our people have long co-existed with no accounts of conflicts written in the books, we.. assure you it is only the truth that my people tells you.” says the emissary who was taking a chunk of the Khajiit meat into its mouth, then chewing it lightly. The taste of the meat can almost be compared to the meat of a Nix Hound in Morrowind, but more sweet and surprisingly savory. “Uhm.. is this really Khajiit my lord? The taste is far different from what I think a Khajiit would taste… this is wonderful!”

King Orgnum took a bite and smiled widely. “I’m quite glad you like it, it was difficult to prepare on such short notice. Now, let’s return to my question of what magicks Morrowind can offer us and requests in return. You will find the magick of Pyandonea quite different than your own. For example, the stunning lady I called on earlier. My people can do things such as this. What do yours offer?”

“Ah, yes.” the emissary says before wiping his lips with cloth beside their plates. “Morrowind over the years, have mastered the arts of conjuring destructive spells, that our knowledge about it is sought after by the provinces of Tamriel. Of course, only few are given the chance to learn it, but for the Maormer, I’m sure Morrowind wouldn’t hesitate to share it.”

Taking a pause to drink from the cup of water, the emissary continues to speak. “In return, we only ask the King of Pyandonea, knowledge to resurrect and control an Emperor Crab in our land. The crab we spoke of is of great importance to Morrowind for it protected its people for centuries, in life and in death.” stated by the emissary before bowing his head lightly while remaining seated.

Orgnum refilled his cup before speaking. “We can exchange some Priests to aid in your research in return for your mages’ help in destructive spells. By the ancestor spirits, this is a great alliance indeed. I admit that I am surprised by how easily the Dunmer can make promises such as these… though I suppose our promises, which are every day for us, must seem gargantuan in their strangeness to you.” The King of Pyandonea raised his glass to the emissary. “Truly, we look forward to such auspicious agreements being upheld. We can send a carrier of our men to Morrowind if you’d like to wait for an escort. This ship, Storm’s Wrath can stay docked with yours until your departure. In the meanwhile feel free to request any cuisine you desire of the crew. They will conjure,” Orgnum finally let out a shrill giggle at this word “Up anything you can imagine, I assure you. I would take you to Pyandonea itself, as you no doubt expect, but it is closed to outsiders. My apologies. Is this agreeable to you?”

“Our king will be pleased to hear of this, these agreements won’t be forgotten by the people of Morrowind. I must admit that your traditions are indeed different from us, but I’m sure, as time goes by, we will be able to learn and appreciate them, like you do.” said the emissary, before standing up from his seat, and bowing before the King. “We would be honored if you can take us to Morrowind through the use of your carrier. Maybe, we could show you some cuisines we have in our lands, along with the goods we mentioned on this meeting, before you depart.”

“After tasting the delicious Khajiit dish, we would love to taste what other cuisines your crew has up their sleeves.”

True to their word, the Maormer conjured up sea flora and fauna cooked in exotic ways the evening and morning over. At mid morning the beetle-like carrier, this one spotted black and white, was laden with a full capacity of troops and the massive boat dwarfed the Dunmer ship. Thirty other Maormer ships were launched as an escort to Morrowind, ten of them to return with mages, goods, and news. They departed promptly after lashing the Dunmer ship to two other boats so it wasn't left behind. Orgnum pondered the odd appearance of the Dark Elves. Allies indeed.
26th Mid Year, Stros M'Kai

“Damn, the Altmer ships are faster than they were. Guess a whole era will do that to you.”

The Maormer fleet led by The Hydra crashed upon the oceans with their heavy might. It was just before mid day and the apparent battle between Hammerfell, the Captain Commander guessed, and Alinor was already under way.

“We're late to the party, but let's show 'em how to finish one. WINGSAILS TO ONE QUARTER. MAGES! ARCHERS!” He bellowed. Over the shores came a dark thunder caps and a pouring tempest while the ships further out remained dry. The mages weaved their work, arcane words flowing from their mouths. The Hydra was first to come into range with its heavy mages, pummeling the fortresses ashore. A catapult seemed to still be working but within a minute it was a smoking wreck as the ship beside The Hydra brought its priests into range. The heaviest ships hammered the bay before turning their spells shipward. The resounding echo from each crack of magic sounded as if the sky was ripping itself apart.

Maormer cruisers leaped ahead of the heavy ships and began raining spell, arrow, and elf on Yokudan ships within range that were harassing Altmer ships nearby. They crumbled beneath the extended fire of Pyandonean ships.

Storms on the shore eased and a favourable undertow sped limping Altmer ships away from the battle. Contrary winds began slowing the quick Yokudan vessels, hampering their ability to coordrinate.

The smaller ramming vessels skirted around the cruisers and plunged themselves bow first into whatever vessel they could find. Yokudan soldiers bravely leaped aboard to Maomer ships to land in a pit of constrictor snakes and a people accustomed to naval raids. Expert archers picked off Yokudan commanders as ships approached, taunting the Redguards to board their ships.

The Altmer, for their part, didn't fire on their ancient enemies and the Maormer were much to reverent of Orgnum to dare disobey even if they wanted Summerset.

The Captain in Command had taken a risk coming here. Stros M'Kai could very well have been a barren rock. The Altmer could have opened fire, or even just sailed somewhere else. The gamble has worked out, though. He loved the sea, and he loved putting ships at the bottom of it.
1st of Sun’s Height, 4E 205
Mantu, Pyandonea


Aayandorin was recovered and listening to the reports from Khael. The serpent neither decayed now swam, and Aayandorin felt a weight lift from his heart. The ritual was a success! Unfortunately, the giant snake was reluctant to listen to the calming spells of the priests and resistant to the command spells. They'd been unable to tame it so far. The High Priest slipped on an exquisitely ornate dark armour and cleared his throat.

“We will go today to tame the beast. Together we can overcome its fear and soothe our creation to our presences. By Kahtanti we will deliver Orgnum a new creation!”

They stepped out into a small blue chitinous vessel overcome with open mouthed serpentine carving and silks dripping from the fangs and extended the winglike sails. Aayandorin's colourless eyes burned with holy conviction as they met the rising sun's glare.

They landed on Khael and were immediately greeted by the slithering crunch of vegetation beneath the newborn serpent. Aayandorin cast soothing spells and whispered to his magical offspring.

“Daughter of Kahtanti, wife of Orgnum, fear us not. I am Aayandorin, High Priest of the Satakimeri Order. We are your kin through service to Orgnum, whom we know as the god Satakan.”

The great snake let out a soft hiss. It was calm, and seemed to be listening.

“Resist us not, we mean you no harm. You are new and confused, a species never in this world before. Ours is the power granted to us to work with your kind, to watch over you and guide you to be healthy and plentiful. In return, we will call upon your power when needed for the cause of your father King Orgnum. We are the true Aldmer, the Maormer, banished to this land for holding our righteous beliefs in Anurbis and Pyan-Do-Mai, our serpent ancestor spirits. Come, sister, to us and await the reunion of all when King Orgnum finally grows young enough to die.”

He alighted the command spell with these words, writhing its power towards the snake's head. It began to bow, but its eyes grew wide and it started to pull back. It hissed alarmingly.

Aayandonrin hissed serpentine words back to the creature, pushing his spell forward more. The other priests joined, switching from calming spells to command spells. Within half of an hour of this conversation, the High Priest has his hand on the serpent's mouth and was filling its ears with words Tamriel would never comprehend.
Etho Sul, Pyandonea

Fusing summoned snakes with destruction magic was proving difficult. The priests hadn't been able to create inherently explosive snakes, but they were able to make them take on a volatile nature that lent itself towards explosion and combustion. For ignition, the priests had casts basic fire runes on the snakes' mouths. With this combination they were able to achieve the same thing. They'd shortly be able to weave the rune into the summoning spell but it was a taxing ritual which weaker mages couldn't handle.
Wega Harbour, Pyandonea

The Water Skins, as the riders were known, watched their serpents play in the waters. Wega was a jungle city in contrast with the beaches of Abbarbas which was bordered by the Banta Desert on its north and west sides. The serpents there were waiting to be outfitted with their rams, the first of which had already been do outfitted. Its rider was petting and soothing the serpent whom hissed a distaste for the new adornment.

The water sparkled over the Pyrrah Bay but characteristic mists could be seen in the distance. One could make out Khael and a small vessel headed in that direction. The rider of a particularly energetic red serpent was laughingly trying to convince it not to speed off to see what was going on. By the end of the day each serpent's ram was removed and they swam off tiredly. Training had begun.
Abbarbas Harbour, Pyandonea

Shipsbuilders were in a frenzy. How could one vessel require even more chitin than the carriers? Those were utterly monstrous and they'd had to build twelve of them. Twelve! This “floating harbour” the High Admiral had thought up was large enough to port three battlegroups AND a carrier. Plus, he'd gotten the bright idea to put in a diplomatic room and personal cabins as if the thing wasn't just massive but was his personal summer home They couldn't even build other boats while this was under way. Even the name was egregious. T'MOL. Was that even a word?

The outer shell was finished growing, it was the inner shell which concerned them. It was complex and required careful placement of wood into chitin foundations. Their schedule was tight, and so the shipsbuilders were in a frenzy.
Actions
Follow Altmer ships to Stros M'Kai.
Join Stros M'Kai battle
Conclude successful deal with Dunmer. Send thirty ships and a carrier full of men to Morrowind for training. Ten will return with goods and mages.
Land serpent pliant to command spells. Taming commenceth!
Training of Water Skins under way
Construction of floating harbour under way.
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Assembly Room, Direnni Tower, Isle of Balfiera, High Rock
23rd of Mid Year
Election of the High King


Prince Narcisse Septim-Vincens, Ruler of the Principality of Camlorn and Overlord of the Sorcerocrats sat flanked by his three sorcerer-nobles. The four of them were clad in the white robes, gold-trimmed and shimmering like the wings of an insect when hit with the sunlight but looking quite ordinary inside the assembly hall, nothing but torches to light the happenings around the hall. The droning hubbub of a hundred voices of petty lords and powerful merchant-princes and barons permeated the echoing hall. Prince Narcisse had already made up his vote, no matter how much his Sorcerocrats wanted him to vote for King Frithjolf Broken-Shield. No, as much as he despised the man, he’d vote for Bellemont. He’d been at the head of Daggerfall’s successes for years now, and he trusted that he could do the same for High Rock.

Divines knew they needed a united realm, one central authority to answer to and to represent them. All of High Rock united, nothing the likes of which had been seen since the Interregnum. Narcisse laughed a bit at his own musings. He had once entertained the thought of independence for his Principality when he was but a young man, the crown foisted upon him with dead parents still warm. Their son was barely a teenager, much less a man to rule. He’d kept the Principality together though, and that is what mattered. He remembered fond days with the other royalty, Ferrand’s twenty year old Knight that Narcisse looked up so much to. Frithjolf’s boys and he still remembered the way his young heart fluttered at King Jean Valois’s daughter and playing with their sons, even Everard. But that was before Ambrose. Before the Sacking…before the murders…and what Ambrose’s men did to the women…

He remembered his Regent crying at the death of his distant cousin Jean’s murder. He remembered Beralt telling him that he planned bloody slaughter of that usurper Ambrose when he finally came of age. How Frithjolf’s boys, Antoinne and Hrolfr said their father stayed up late at night looking at his sword and banner near the fireplace. At the time, he knew Frithjolf’s boys didn’t understand why his father did such things. But now, Narcisse knew, and he was sure Frithjolf’s boys did as well. The same things on Narcisse’s mind raced through Frithjolf’s, the urge for blood, to raise the levies and go to war for the slaying of Jean Valois, a dear friend to everyone. The urge for justice. The urge for murder like they made to his dear friends, just as Narcisse does now. The only one who never shed a tear was Ferrand and Narcisse is as angry at the bastard now as he was then, not a childish anger anymore- no, a pure, burning hatred.

His look went sour after that. He couldn’t bear to think of it anymore, looking at his sweaty palms and feeling his quickened heartbeats thunder in his chest like horse hooves in a charge. The herald stood at the head of the table on the right hand of the Head-Elector and surveyed the Noble-Electors before speaking, “It is time to cast votes! Starting with Earl Hawkwood of Farrun and moving along to the noble on his left side, moving in such a manner before coming to the man sitting opposite of Earl Hawkwood.”

Narcisse looked at Earl Hawkwood, sitting across from him and nodded. The nod was reciprocated, “ My vote goes to King Frithjolf of Jehanna.”

All along the line it continued, Beralt held nearly a score more votes than Ambrose but even then it never made a difference as Ferrand and Frithjolf were shoulder-to-shoulder in votes and two-fold what votes Beralt had to his name. Even so, as the last voice to vote would be his, Narcisse looked around the room, that familiar burning hatred, that shame of looking at all these faces that had taken no action when Jean and his daughter and sons were murdered. His knuckles turned white as his fist grew tighter and resisting the urge to slam it down on the hard wood, he splayed his hand out on the table, not trusting his voice not to yell, he lowered his head before looking back at the others. He looked to his Sorcerocrats, “Ferrand!” one of them whispered sharply.

It was true, Narcisse couldn’t deny it. Ferrand was the only man in High Rock who most felt could bring the petty squabbles to a close and bring all the families together as one High Rock like in the days of old. Frithjolf was too concerned with honor and his own people, Beralt was not an experienced enough man and Ambrose…well, opinion of him was not high. Even so, as eye upon eye set its gaze upon the young Prince caught between his musings on lost friends and his duty to the realm, the young man cleared his throat to speak and all grew quiet, “The Prince of Camlorn,” he started before biting his lip, “The Prince of Camlorn’s vote goes to King Frithjolf of Jehanna.”

He held his breath, savoring the quiet that filled the void where the echoes of his voice stopped and smiled that shit-eating grin of his, content that he stood for friends lost and deprived that bastard Ferrand of his vote. It might just have been a drop of water in the ocean of votes, but it meant the world to him, and at least he felt worthy of the trickle of Septim blood in him and knew that the Valois dynasty might now have a chance to get their justice that they so deserved.

“It is decided! King Ferrand Bellemont will take the High Throne in the Palace here at Balfiera, but will be reserved the right to hold office in his own ancestral holding of Daggerfall! You may now return to your realms with the rewards granted to you for voting and bringing peace to High Rock. Divines smile upon ye who cast their votes, whether or not they went as planned.” The herald smiled.

Narcisse’s Sorcerocrats stared daggers into him from behind their masks and Narcisse found that he could only smile as he sat in his given seat at the grand table.

Everard III Wayrest
22nd of Mid Year
Castle Moonhall, Stormhold, Black Marsh


“Hurry the fuck up, Montyard.” Everard hissed in a whisper as Mathieu leaned into the latrines with a worried face, thrusting a thumb over his shoulder at the hallway, whose floors were currently being walked on by Orcs. Only Orcs could walk that loud.

Everard sword underneath his breath, “Just piss! What do you think those Orcs will think we’re plotting just up and leaving without a reason.” He hissed.

“I can’t do it with you watching, you bastard! Why don’t you fecking try, you Whore’s Rash having-” Montyard retorted, trying his best to get something to start streaming into the basin carved into the floor.

“That was only once! By Daegon, I swear, if you do not-”

“Everard, come out!” Mathieu whispered sharply, trying his best to act inconspicuous.

Everard gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes, stepping out, trying to look as purposeful as a commander of the guard should be as he stepped out into the hallway and turned to face the Orcs whose footsteps had stopped beyond the intersection of the latrine hallway with the one that led to the meeting hall.

“I demand you to state your business or have us draw steel in defense of ourselves.” Everard warned.

High King Ferrand Bellemont of the Grand Royaume of Greater High Rock
23rd of Mid Year
Castle Daggerfall, City of Daggerfall


The message had come on the small pack of a messenger hawk, flying many miles for many hours to Ferrand’s own castle, far from Balfiera. Still, he held it in his hand, though he’d had to sit to keep himself from falling over. He never expected his plan to go into action so quickly, and never expected it to turn to his favor so easily. Every plan of contingency could likely be scrapped. No more worries, besides those of a High King of course. Ferrand’s lips curled into a tight smile, then white teeth showed as he put the message aside, his shoulders beginning to quake as his laughs resounded throughout the chambers.

“Peace! Now, peace is assured, we are whole.” High King Ferrand spoke, grabbing the messenger boy and patting him on the shoulder.

The messenger boy had no clue how to respond and only tried to hold back a smile, only failing somewhat, “Fetch me my scribe, boy. Go, go.” And the boy was off running again.

Ferrand clasped his hands behind his back and walked over to a small table, two chairs placed beside it, one being taken up by Ferrand’s son, now thirty years in age and Lord-Marshal of Greater High Rock. A board of chess laid out in front of the two, pieces strewn about already in maneuver.

“If only there was a Prince piece, for you.” A moving of Ferrand’s white pawn, then a black one, White pawn took that one, after some several seconds of maneuvering by father and son, Ferrand picked up the King, “The King piece will serve the same purpose well enough.” Black King lifted away, White in its place.

At the Black King’s downfall, Ferrand smiled softly, “Either way, I will see it true soon enough.”

He looked into the eyes of his son, "Send word that levies are to be raised, my son."

24th of Mid Year
Greater High Rock
O Brothers, Where Art Thou? Part I


Prince Narcisse would be the first to be awakened by a clattering on the stone walls of his chambers. An arrow, a scroll wrapped tightly about its shaft. When opened, he would find the seal of Wayrest, a white ship, three masts, yellow mainsails on a blue field, reading,



In the different Kingdoms of Wayrest: Shornhelm, Camlorn, Jehanna, Northpoint. The rulers and sons who remembered the warmth with which they celebrated each day spent together between quarrels they did not understand would share in their wrath, in their fury, and a storm would brew for the Pirates of Wayrest.

==========

Actions:
-High King of High Rock chosen, King Ferrand Bellemont of Daggerfall to rule.
-Everard makes contact with his Orcish tails while on his way to find someone to negotiate on behalf of the Dominion with him. This unexpected contact with the Orcs could be useful to him...
-Grand Army of Greater High Rock is forming.
-Heirs to the Thrones of Greater High Rock's Kingdoms ready themselves to ride for Shornhelm
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Castle Moonhall, Stormhold, Black Marsh
23rd of Midyear, 4E 205
Rules-With-Claw and the Various representatives of Tamriel
After a long rest, Balgruuf entered into the Summit Room, in his usual spot. He began his day with a bottle of Mead, while his advisors started off their day with a glass of wine. Balgruuf sat first in the room, discussing any remaining points that had to be done. “ We have made deals with the Dunmer , Redguards , Orcs and Bretons , we should begin seeing what the Argonians want and the Khajiit want, on top of that push the idea that all nations shall work on the docks togehter , and lastly what side of the Khajiit’s should we trade with? “ asked on of the advisors.

Aelid and his entourage would enter the summit, sitting down in the same place they had before. He appeared calm and reserved once more, refreshed from the events of yesterday. Hearing the end bit of Balgruuf’s advisor, Aelid piped in.
“I agree, the more cooperation between the Realms the better. Altmer Craftsmen shall be deployed to Black Marsh upon my return to Alinor to begin construction of the first of the trade ports. The Dominion would advise the Kingdom of Skyrim to aid Morrowind in creating their trade port in Vvardenfell, if they wish to assist in this project. Though speaking of Morrowind..” Aelid turned to the High Justicar and spoke to her;
“I believe the High Justicar proposed sending a Battalion of Thalmor soldiers to Morrowind in order to maintain Peace and ease the workload of your own Dunmer security forces. Think of it as a gift to our newfound friendship.”
Among the other representatives, Ildoryn was first to enter the hall after the Argonians. He watched each representative walk inside in grandiose attires, as if trying to out dress each other. Ildoryn himself was wearing an ornate Ebony armor, but he dresses in it as a precaution, not for attention. Once Aelid mentions Vvardenfell, Ildoryn shifted his attention towards the Altmer leader, and listened further.

“Morrowind gladly accepts the help of the Nords and Altmer on the construction, we will see to it that the construction of the port will pose new opportunities for our people.” Ildoryn pauses for a second after seeing a Dunmer messenger enter the room. “As for the Dominion’s gift, Morrowind gladly accepts it, our lands in the south succumbed to chaos after we’ve moved further north, we could use all the help we can get to bring order back.”

Upon finishing his words, Ilodryn turned to the messenger and took the scroll and began to read its contents, distracting him of what was going on the meeting.

“ I have something to ask of the High Elves “ Balgruuf said. “ The College of Winterhold.. is back into shape.. however I seem to lack .. trust. After the Eye of Magnus , and general disruptions in Winterhold, People alike feel magic in skyrim has no use, and convention warfare is the way to go, I was one of them, until Jartod re-made the guild, and had a new arch-mage in it, I propose that some High Elf mages teach some students about magic, for a brief period of time.. “ purposed Balgruuf, opening his first bottle of mead.

The High Elf smirked slightly at the Nord and popped a bottle of summer wine, brought from the Isles on the High King’s ship. Pouring himself a goblet, he would stir a golden finger over the rim of the cup lucratively as he stared at the Nord.

“Our Arcane Society is truly one of the Envies of the World, at least as far as Magicka is concerned. We may be persuaded to send tutors to the College. But the real question is, what could the Nords do in return for us..? Perhaps if some Nordic warriors were to pledge themselves to the Dominion in return, I could convince the Arch-Mage of the Society to indeed send some Mages. The Society is just terribly busy, and we must send our limited amount of Mages only to the worthiest of tasks. I’m sure you understand.”

“Hm.. very well , I must speak with Jartod concerning this, but I understand.” Balgruuf said, taking brief jote notes. “ But first, the construction of the docks in Black Marsh, Rules-With-Claws must elect one city, before I could appoint a contractor to lay out the plans , then the Nords will supply stone , Glass , Clay and Iron Bars , nothing more. “ said Balgruuf.

One of the later arrivals at the summit, Rules-With-Claw and Stalks-The-Stars walked into the summit much as they left it the day before. Rules-With-Claw remained in the scarred, etched ebony that told tales of the past, while this time Stalks-The-Stars was in only slightly formal robes. It seemed he felt unfearing of the meetings participants and, being that this was his city, he felt more than content to act as he saw fit. Sitting at the head of the table, they said nothing and allowed the conversation to continue.

“The Hands of Mer shall lay the bricks sent by Men, it appears this summit is actually getting somewhere. If I would advise Black Marsh, I would recommend Lillmoth. My fleet currently resides there, and it appears a little… cramped. But the perfect coastal city for trade.” Aelid said with a nod. He then turned back to the Nord, a idea having come to him.

“We should like Lillmoth’s expansion, yes: but we want more than that. To use the Nord’s plan, we will have Lillmoth as a city for exportation, while a second city: a city that shall be constructed by an alliance of workers and nations, shall be the city Black Marsh makes imports from. There is a site in the most southerly corner that would make a fine location for a new city. Until then, we would be content with Lillmoth acting as our link to the outside world.” Rules-With-Claw nods, before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the source of interest yesterday: the small vials of Hist-sap. He placed them on the table, but said no more about them.

“If we receive these Nord Warriors for the Tutors at the College and indeed like them, then we would ask for a Dominion funded Mercenary group be found in Solitude. Nords across Skyrim who have fallen on hard times can sell their sword arm to the Dominion for gold.”

“ I’m sorry, I’ll give you these Nord Warriors but a Dominion funded Merc group wouldn’t fit in well, due to the Companions being the primary fighting guild for Skyrim, we’ll have the exchange and I’ll offer a small batch of mercenaries who you may ask to get their services, their costs and numbers will be decided later. “ stated Jartod , nodding to Aelid.

Aelid flashed a smile, and spoke; “Are you sure? The Companions are a small and elite unit specializing in taking care of the people of Skyrim. The Mercenary group I propose would have nothing to do with Skyrim. You sign up, get your gold, and are shipped off to whatever region the Dominion needs the Nords in. The two groups would never even meet.”

“”Let the group be Nord Operated and run, the money however can be from Dominion hands”
purposed Balgruuf

The High King of the Dominion bit his lip, they were close now. They almost had a deal. He could understand wanting Nords to operate and run it, it would just make everything run smoother and everyone feel more comfortable in Skyrim. Yet the Nords would have to get used to looking at Altmer faces soon enough..
“Agreed, with the stipulation that at least one Thalmor Representative will be there to advise the Nord Owners.”

“No Offense, but we wouldn’t prefer a representative, it makes people uneasy and not willing to work, I’ll have a full set of regulations imposed by Jartod later , but consider this a start to the dealings. ”

“You want me to pay gold for Nords to sign up to fight for the Dominion, but don’t want those Nords to have anything to do with the Altmer? The Thalmor are more than happy to fund this little venture, but we won’t fund something that we don’t even have a set of eyes on. No offense yourself, but how do I know the money is being spent properly? No, I’m afraid I need someone there I know and trust to give me reports that everything is running smoothly.”

“ Very well, the representative can come, but… only three times a week , not including the day when the money is dropped off” said Balgruuf.

Aelid smiled and nodded in the affirmative. “While not ideal, I think this is an acceptable compromise. I shall make all attempts to not have my Representative be too intrusive into your dealings. I simply want to make sure the money is going where it is supposed to and the troops well-equipped. Simple things like that.”

“ Weapons and Armour shall be made by us, all you focus is on is having the money”

“You are too kind, Nord. It’s strange your race can be so damned thick-headed, and yet generous too. With our burgeoning new trade route with High Rock, I can assure you the coin will flow into Skyrim, as long as your swords flow out.”

“If I might take a moment to first offer trade agreements with Skyrim, Orsimer, Hammerfell and Black marsh. Jarl Balgruuf, your former hold of Whiterun is known for it’s steel, and I would like to see what you would ask for it… I would put the same to Orsinium… but they don’t appear to be present... And speaking of Hammerfell… I have a spin on the offer you may find interesting” The Councillor said, turning to the redguards “Seeing as how you and Skyrim were negotiating over wood, I would first like to offer to assist in this trade, seeing how Cyrodiil has no shortage of wood. “ Not anything more than an opening point with the two nations at the moment… he’d see if either of them were interested in any further negotiations first, given the Empires reputation

Balgruuf has his first swing of the mead, looking to the Councillor. “The Steel in Whiterun is “Special” , we would offer Imperials weapons and Armour, in-exchange for a fee of per set and per blade , simple as that… I must speak with Jartod to see if he’s willing to deal with the … Empire .. but if things go well … we may have a deal .. on the topic of the Hammerfall and Skyrim trade deal , the Orcs , that haven't arrived yet wanted to charge me a tax , for weight , if you know a better route to Hammerfall , half of the shipment could be from Skyrim, and the other half from Cyrodiil, the gold being split ” Purposed Balgruuf.

“Of course, we will pay a small fee for your sets, we’re not thieves after all” The Councillor said with a smile

Dornthal sat at ease once more as the summit continued, taking small sips of wine. At the proposal from the Cyrodiil repetitive. He waited for a moment as if weighing his response before answering. "There would have been a time where my answer would have been a simple refusal. It is no secret the Empire proved itself weak in the ending days of the Great War, and our people still remember that betrayal even to this day. Redguards of Hammerfell a weary of dealing with an empire so quick turn meek at the face of adversity. However, that is the past, in the present day the Empire has begun to prove that it still holds at least some of it's old honor with their quick victory in Valenwood. So it with Temijen's wishes that our relationship be reforged anew, a clean slate offered in which your empire can rewrite it's previous wrongs."

Dornthal took another sip of wine then continued. "It is with that I also would inform you of Hammerfell's willingness to open it's harbors to trade from the Empire as well. Silks, fine wine, rare gems and jewels from the heart of a the Alik'r Desert, are among the many treasures we can offer, but Temijen wishes more than just a trade agreement. However, beyond our current need of lumber, what else would the Empire offer us?" Dornthal made sure not to give too much away just yet, he would goad the empire on just a bit more before offering anything else.

“Where are the orcs? “ asked one of the advisors. “ A pressing matter seems to enter my mind! “
After recovering from yesterday’s drinking, S’arah made herself a promise to not take a single sip of alcohol today. Joining two militiamen in the corner seats, S’arah reached for a sweetroll to start her breakfast. While she ate her food, S’arah adjusted her clothing. The tigress had purchased a blue noble dress from an Argonian tailor, in addition, she also worn a set of glass pauldron and bracer to give her outfit a more protected look. Though her armored dress seemed strange on Tamriel, it was a common setup for Ka Po’ Tun noblewomen.

“Morning boss,” a militiaman greeted. “This one received some bad news, Corinthe has fallen to the north.”

The tigress was not surprised, the drunken heap of a cat they called the mayor was nothing without her help. “And what of our comrades?”

“Most of the guards fought to their death. But our militia escaped with few casualties, they have taken refuge in Senchal and pledged their allegiance to its mayor. We need have a talk with the north today, cowards attacked without declaration... ”

Before S’arah could respond, she was interrupted by the entrance of an Orc.

“Honorable representatives,” he shouted to attract attentions. “My lord, Yagurz has a hangov...uh...caught a minor case of swamp fever. He will be absent for a short period and should return later.”

Rules-With-Claw seemed bemused by the news that someone had been caught ill at his summit, but the smile on Stalks-The-Stars face was one of amusement. He was tempted to offer the Orc a trip to the healer, but he hardly wanted to insult the prideful Greenskin’s honour. They had been good to the Argonian’s summit thusfar...Respectful, even.

An obvious grin can be seen on Ildoryn’s face while he reads the scroll. Upon reading all of the contents, Ildoryn lifts his head back up and turns to look at the representatives around the table. He murmurs a few words indirectly to the guard beside him, before turning back his attention to the meeting. “I apologize for that, was there any transactions that Morrowind should be concerned?”

Yagurz groggily woke, fumbling to put on his armor properly. It was some sort of swamp sickness that had gotten to him. Or he was just getting old. Probably the latter. Yagurz yawned, strapping his axe to his hip and began the march down the hallway alongside his entourage. The lot of them were burly, and you could probably hear them coming from a mile away. Yagurz turned to one of his guards, motioning him over, “Take a companion with you and await the Bretons. Tell them that we need to talk later.” The guard nodded and took another Orc alongside him to the Breton’s quarters to deliver a message.

However, it was at that point that Yagurz entered the Summit Chambers with a groan. He wasn’t hungover, by any means...merely groggy. The swamps had a tendency to do that to him. He was just like that in Leyawiin during the pacification efforts following the Great War. Yagurz took his seat at the table and looked around, cracking his neck before speaking, “Good morning, esteemed representatives. If you have an offer for Orsinium, let us hear it.”

The Councillor nodded in response to Dornthal “Besides the wood we have to offer, we too have wines. Veins of gold and silver run beneath Cyrodiil, though obviously not to the extent of the Nords rich lands. Resources dot the landscape, ancient ayleid ruins hold precious stones with magical properties... But given that you said that you are interested in more than a trade agreement, we can offer friendship. The Empire’s legions make for powerful allies, I think you’d be hard pressed to find a more disciplined, organised and diverse force in all Tamriel. Our navy may not be as good as yours or the elves, but they’re loyal and willing. The Empire can offer much to friends” The Councillor turned his head to Chieftain Yagurz
“It’s no secret that your people are great craftsmen, Chieftain Yagurz. The Empire is looking for someone to craft better arms and armour for them in the north, and we’re wondering which of the Northern nations would be the better choice for such an agreement. As you saw, Skyrim would consider an agreement over their well known Skyforge Steel, but I’m wondering what the Orsimer would think of such an agreement?”

Yagurz ran his thick armored hand through his beard, pondering on the Councillor’s words as he considered the forging capabilities of Orsinium, it was true that the Orcs were some of the best craftsmen in all of Tamriel, but it all came down to the size of the agreement, “Well,” he began, “it depends on how large of an order you are speaking of. Supplying, say, a single legion is a non-issue, though it would occupy the vast majority of our major foundries, leaving some of the minor foundries for domestic use. However, if you are talking greater than a single legion, we would need to expand our forging infrastructure to a higher degree. The Nords have the luxury of a larger landmass than us, but we can expand our current foundries if we are paid well enough. Ultimately, we would need to know how much you want, and what you can offer us in exchange. Coin? Some form of knowledge? It depends. We would love to trade with the Empire, but for what is the question.”

“Ultimately the Skyforge is but a single forge, I don’t think they would be able to match Orisium with a single forge. But I do understand your concern, we attempted to upgrade our armours in the past only to find those with the knowledge inside our own lands were too few, not it seems the forges of the Orcs are too few. Regardless, we can offer a lot of coin for the armour and weaponry, Orcish is of renowned quality, the weapons superior to many other forms and we obviously wish to capitalise on such an opportunity. The money we pay may help you to expand your foundries, though I’m sure we could also invest in the Orcs for such, the long term payoffs could be grand. But overall, we will pay in coin and we want to equip as many of our legions as possible, uniformity across the armies is important”

Yagurz looked a bit like a deer-in-the-carriage-lights once he heard the offer of the Imperials. He knew that the idea of outfitting the entire Imperial Legion with armor and weaponry would take an extreme amount of materials, time, and a grand expansion of their foundries. Before it was all over, Burkash would probably be known as ‘Burkash the Builder’ due to the programs that would take place under his leadership. Yagurz spoke carefully, “I can see why you would come to us, then...true, a single forge would not be able to even remotely fill an order of that scale, no matter how many smiths you had working it. We can fill your order, but as I said, we will have to expand our foundries. We have many smiths, outfitting your Legions won’t be an issue with foundries to match them.”

“Of course, we understand that the order will be slow to progress due to the construction of your foundries, but we are willing to wait. After all, unless enough Ebony or Glass to supply the Empire suddenly crops out of the ground, you are easily one of the best options for equipment”

Yagurz smiled, a rare sight from the orc, “Fair enough. We will happily supply the Empire. Send an Emissary to Orsinium soon. Burkash will give them an estimation on cost and such, though, we will have to work out a deal with either the Bretons or the Redguards to transport them to a convenient location for transfer.”

“Understood, I shall send for for an emissary will be dispatched to Orsinium. As for working out transport deals, the Bretons are part of the Empire and would likely benefit as a result of being part of an Empire with legions equipped in some of the best armour and weapons we can find, I’m sure they would put a small tax on the transfer, but I doubt it would be too much trouble to get them to strike a deal.”

Yagurz nodded and took his own notes on the deal, “Fair enough, Councillor. I will inform King Burkash of our arrangement.” Yagurz sighed and looked around the room, “Are there any others who seek a deal with the Orcs at this time?”

“One Deal, from the Nords.” said an Advisor. ‘Well two if you think about it.“ said the Advisor once more. “ First off, the Nords purpose to the orcs , a blacksmith guild be created. “ stated on the advisors. “ The guild shall revolve around teaching the way of smithing but also resolving mine dispute and resource disputes” “Then next off, the issue of Gloombound Mine.” stated Balgruuf. “ The mine is on Skyrim’s land, but it’s where a orc stronghold is, so I purpose , to begin the state of dealings a deal of 60/40 in the Nords favor + 10,000 Per Extraction for the Orc Stronghold.” stated Balgruuf, looking to Yagurz.

Dornthal nodded as he listened to the Councillor before responding. "Indeed, it is our belief that this new Empire can a prove most reliable ally. In fact, Temijen aims to cultivate our common interest into a defensive alliance, if you will. So as long as neither side is the instigator of a conflict, the blades of Hammerfell will be prepared to defend our common interest. Of course this new agreement will prove invaluable in defending our trade interest abroad, with The Imperial navy in the south and east, and the Yokudan in the west we would have quite the formidable defense for our trading interest. However, I would further wish to invite the Bretons into this agreement as well. Such pact would all but insure the safety of our trading fleets."

“Indeed, I have no doubt such an alliance would be a boon to us both. As for the Bretons, I believe inviting their kingdoms navies into this pact would be useful as well, supplementing those provided by the Imperial Navy” The Councillor said with a nod

Aelid coughed and seemed to search for the proper words. He knew that the other representatives would hate him for it, but he cared little. It was becoming increasingly obvious a fair amount of the Representatives only respect strength, and after Aelid was seen putting up little fight during the Bosmer Rebellion, he knew he had to prove himself.

“And why should the Dominion allow such a deal? Military Alliances in the North-West and upgrading the Imperial Legions with better armor and weapons? I will make it clear that if the Dominion feels threatened, we shall strike first, and swiftly.

“Well, King Aelid, I must say that this is interesting, whatever happened to ‘Men under one banner, Mer under one banner’?” The Councillor questioned as Aelid stepped in to oppose the Military Alliance

“Indeed, but as I said, One Banner to bring Harmony and Tranquility to Tamriel. The Altmer, as you should know, live a long time. Because of this, we have not forgotten what happens when Men band together and focus on Military technologies. We would not see Alinor and the rest of Tamriel burn under the Second Founding of your Empire of Man. Men united the lands with blood, and that is the truth of it.” Aelid nodded to the Councilor.

“A military alliance for defensive purposes, as has been stressed, will help to maintain those values. It’s much less likely that someone would attack a nation which has allies than one which is a sitting duck. As for military technologies, equipping the legion with better equipment to bring them up to par with some of the other nations is understandably concerning to you, but we did just sign a peace treaty, would it not be a disaster for our images if we were to go to war again so soon?”

“Indeed it would, but nobody ever said the Empire was smart. The Dominion shall watch this union carefully, and if ships are amassed in Bravil or Stros M’Kai, and I promise we shall deal with them effectively.” Hearing the Redguard speak, Aelid would raise a eyebrow inquisitively, before finishing up.

"Your fears King Aelid of a military alliance, while well founded, are baseless, as the councilor has pointed out. This is a defense pact, aimed in securing our trading fleets. It should come as no news to anyone with the events at the shores of Elsweyr and Stros M'kai that pirates are getting bolder every season." Dornthal sighed, and took a small sip of water.

“I shall agree to this Union with one stipulation. I am sending Trade and Cargo to Daggerfall and the rest of High Rock, yet my ships must sail close to Hammerfell to accomplish this thing. If my trading ships are promised safe passage to High Rock from both the Empire and Redguard, Then The Dominion will consent to this.”

“King Aelid, High Rock is a province of the Empire, by that alone the Imperial Navy is pledged to ensure that any vessels passing through High Rocks water are not raided by pirates or the likes. We’ve even sent ships to hunt down Dupont’s raider, though they are finding limited success due to the majority being in Hammerfells waters. Therefore, the Empire guarantees that your ships will receive equal protection under law and the navy as all other ships in those waters do, after all damaging High Rock damages the Empire.”

Dornthal narrowed his eyes at that, another redguard, a lord of some standing by his formal dress and rich jewels, whispered in his ear. The two seemed to argue in hushed whispers for a time, then finally, Dornthal returned his attention to the summit at large. A resigned look on his face as he spoke. "To this we can agree to, however only if the Altmer agree to searches by our coastal patrols. No goods will be seized or damaged, unless we believe them to be used for some heinous goal, but we hardly want the Aldmeri Dominion smuggling troops right under our noses."

Aelid honestly wasn’t sure if he should be offended or find this hilarious. Sneaking Dominion troops past the Redguard right into High Rock? That would be both brilliant and incredibly impractical.
“As the Councilor said, High Rock is a Imperial Province. I doubt they would accept Thalmor troops. They were barely accepting of a Dominion Representative being sent. We shall accept searches AT RANDOM of ships, though we refuse to have every single ship searched. It is frivolous and simply slows down my merchants. I give you the option of random ship searches to put your mind at ease, however.”

"Very well then. Trading vessels shall be allowed to cross our waters under the agreed terms."

Balgruuf sat and watched the talks, his advisors busy writing all of this down like the other various conversations. “ I’d like to speak with the Orcs , about two things, and lastly I would like to speak to the High Elfs and Imperials to finish off our trade deals, same with the Redguards to as well “ stated Balgruuf, grabbing four sheets of paper

Dornthal swallowed the slice of meat he had eaten and took a sip of wine before responding to Balgruuf. "Ah yes, there are several detail left to discuss, should the empire be so kind to allow it, the wood can circumvent Orsinium all together, while the rest of our trade can traverse the open waters to the ports of Solitude and Dawnstar. Meanwhile we can send over the best shipwright's we have to offer to help build Skyrims new navy. They will oversee their construction and can offers countless decades of shipbuilding perfected since we Yokudan's first stepped foot in Tamriel."

“ Very well , I also , invite you to join the Black Smithing Guild , a guild that shall be formed by Skyrim to oversee all Minerals and Ores , Miners and also teach the way of smithing to Tamerials People, and lastly I would also buy silk from Hammerfall , and other clothing materials as well.” purposed Balgruuf, writing down the last of the Redguard - Nord Dealings.

"The Dragontail mountains are also rich in ore, Hammerfell would stand to gain in working with this 'Black Smithing Guild.' Also of the fine silks, and textiles we have to offer, they too of course will be part of the trade deal, as well as any other goods that are bought and sold in the port cities of Hammerfell, of which there are many have no doubt, Skyrim will gain much in this agreement, as Hammerfell will also benefit." Dornthal seemed pleased with this agreement, with the mining expertise if this guild, unlocking the riches in Dragontail mountain would become much easier.

Balgruuf let out a quick smile before he went to writing the last of the deal.

Yagurz looked to Balgruuf’s advisor and sighed, “I cannot cede any mineral rights from Gloombound mine. It is the only way for Narzulbur to make it’s livelihood. However, we would be pleased to participate in this guild. However, where will it be based? If possible, we could have a hall in Orsinium and, to my understanding you have an impressive forge in the city of Whiterun.” He then turned and looked to Balgruuf himself, “And what is it you wish to speak of?”

“ Gloombound Mine , I feel your side of the argument, since this mine is the driving force of the economy for them, but it is the largest source of Ebony in Skyrim, we request that at least some Ebony per month be used for Skyrim? “asked Balgruuf.

Yagurz sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a minute before speaking, “I am sorry, but it simply cannot be done. However, I am sure that the Dunmer would be more than willing to trade you for Ebony. It is to my understanding that ebony is plentiful in the lands of the Dunmer.” He then looked to Aelid, “If the prospect of the Imperial Legion being outfitted with our weapons and armor is an issue to you, we would be more than happy to make the same deal with you.”

“ Very well, I’ll message you when to expect the Blacksmithing Guild to begin it’s preparations and construction of buildings. Balgruuf wrote down the last words

The High King of the Dominion rubbed at his chin in thought, unsure of this deal. He knew the Orcs had vast forges and expertise in these matters, but did they match up to Elven craftsmanship? He decided it would need to be put to the test. He smiled polietly, and nodded to the Orc.
“Perhaps this deal may be struck. When I send my Representatives to your Strongholds to see the strength of the Orcs, we shall also test Orcish steel against our own. If we find it superior in certain aspects, we would be happy to update the Dominion’s Military with such finely crafted tools.”

Yagurz nodded and wrote that down as well, “Fair enough, I will work on such a deal with our smiths. However, you will be paying the same rates as the Imperials, therefore I would respectfully request that both of your emissaries arrive at around the same time, that way we can all discuss how this will work.”

“The same rates as the Imperials? Fair enough, I suppose. The Emissary will be sent immediately upon my return home. Are you sure you're Smiths can handle such an Operation though..? You are hard workers and smiths, but a landless people. Can you truly outfit both the Entire Dominion and Empire?”

Yagurz smiled and leaned back, “Do not worry about my side of the logistics, good King. We can most assuredly handle this alone.”

Dornthal quickly chimed in on the subject of the guild. "As for the Blacksmith Guild involving Hammerfell. I believe the building of a chapter house within the inland province of Totambu would be an excellent position to make full use of the guild skills."

“ I’ll speak with Jartod about settling an official Rule Sheet for the Guild , he’ll appoint a representative to handle guild operations in Skyrim, I suggest you do the same. Once this is done , and the first chapter house is made we’ll begin the rules and how pay shall be divided out.” planned Balgruuf, writing a new entry on the blacksmith Guild. “ Oh and one last thing, if the Orcs need help with the orders at any time of the stage , the guild would most certainly be available” added Balgruuf.

Rules-With-Claw was most happy with the summit thus far. For generations to come, this was looking to be known as the summit that brokered an age of peace in Tamriel. The Altmer and the Empire were agreeing to peace and every nation seemed to be dealing with each other to some extent or another. The proposition of a Tamriel-wide trade pact was ingenious, and no doubt had huge implications for Black Marsh.

Yet one other issue still remained. Black Marsh was immeasurably improved by all of the dealings, yet one other nation had been left relatively untouched, despite its importance and close proximity.

It was Stalks-The-Stars who spoke next. He received a nod from his father, before standing up and looking over the gathered attendants. “Esteemed lords and brokers of deals.We all know that this summit is proving a great success. Each nation looks to profit from the dealings done here, yet one nation is left in the dust. Shall we turn our attention to the divided Elsweyr? We have representatives from both sides, and even know: word reaches us that the north has invaded a southern town. I for one, would like to hear justification for this act. From the Northern representative, and from the Imperials who fund these...disputable actions.” Stalks-The-Stars smiled, before turning to the Khajiit representative and the Empire’s representatives. He was calling them out very openly, seeing just who he should support. Careful maneuvering here could end generations of Khajiit-Argonian hate.

“If I may speak first, on behalf of the Empire.” The Councillor said “Elsweyr has always been a relatively divided and unstable region, held together by the Mane in most cases. With the death of the Mane, of whom the killer is still uncertain and unknown, the South and the North have begun another dispute. This is not uncommon in Khajiit history, and we believe that the problem would sort it’s self, if there was a Mane. In place of the Mane, his former Guardian has, as I’m sure you know, taken over running of the nation on behalf of the Khajiit, with an Imperial Governor-Militant serving as an advisor in this time. The Norths actions against the south are ill advised, and we have been trying to reach a peaceful resolution, but our calls for a peace meeting with the south were promptly ignored. While I do not support a civil war in Elsweyr, I can see the reasoning behind the Norths actions, and the Governor Militant is pledged to assist the former Guardian. I hope that we can, today, solve this issue before it grows even larger, but I fear that we will be facing an inevitable Civil War.”

“You will forgive me, representative: but I am not satisfied with the situation. No matter how small a part you play, you are still on the side of a ruler who slaughtered innocents. Suppose you find this new Mane: he will be a child. At the whim of this callous man, and need I remind you of the hatred Khajiit hold for my people? What is to stop this man from attacking Black Marsh, under the guise of this puppet Mane? I move to propose that we support the Southern half of Elsweyr.

“I must stand against you here, firstly being they would have to cross Cyrodiil to take a stab at your people, and marching an army of Khajiit across Cyrodiil without attracting the attention of the Empire is not an easy task. The South and the North have never truly agreed except when under a Mane. As for being at the whim of a callous man, there is an imperial administration in Elsweyr designed and set up to advise the current Northern Government and..”

“Look at how much your advice is being listened to now, Imperial.”

“I should point out not even five years ago they weren’t even under Imperial sovereignty. Conflicts such as this have much deeper roots and neither north nor south is willing to listen to reason at the current time, it would seem. As for this slaughter of innocents, I do not believe that the attack on Corinthe was designed to slaughter it’s people so much as seize control of the town, it’s a war and towns will be attacked, what’s important is stopping more attacks, and the solution to that is not through the north's military endeavours, or the souths rebellion, but through a proper, negotiated decision.”

“Are you telling me that the lives lost in the attack on Corinthe were justifiably lost because of this false ruler’s intent to capture the town? I do not accept that. Nor do I accept that this war is inevitable. Were such hatreds set in stone, would this summit not be pointless? Would the Altmer and the empire not also be a conflict with ‘Much deeper roots’?”

“Look at any period when the Khajiit have not been under a Mane, almost all of them have been war torn. It has been this way for longer than this Dominion has been standing. I am not claiming any lives were justifiably lost, I am claiming we cannot say that in a war there is not going to be loses, and we cannot call these losses deliberate attempts to slaughter innocent people”

“I think you misunderstand my intent, Councillor. I do not wish to blame the Empire for this, as much as I wish for the being who is attacking the south without major provocation be dealt with. I am proposing to representative S’arah that she will receive allies from the Argonians, if she wishes them. We will not see our fellow ‘Beasts’ be slaughtered by an unfair fight.” Stalks-The-Stars practically spat out the word beast. Hating the connotations of it, as if the Argonians and the Khajiit were lesser than Men or Mer. Stalks-The-Stars couldn’t help but smile slightly at the prospect of the unfamiliar, Un-Khajiit catfolk being so thoroughly under pressure. She would have an opportunity here, let us see how she could exploit it.

After observing the fray for the last day and half, S’arah was finally invited to speak. To be honest, she wanted no part in this conversation. But at situations of such, words are capable of much more harm than blades or magic.

“We from Southern Elsweyr salute the Argonians’ willingness for justice and cooperation,” S’arah announced as she quickly gazed at the Argonian lord. Turning her gaze back to the Imperial Councillor, she changed her tone to a harsher one. “The Imperials of Cyrodiil and their Northern puppets once again moved to destabilize our Confederation. Not only do they sack the free city of Corinthe, we also have news of a raid and abduction in Senchal. Let us not only hear from this Councillor of an outside realm, but from the representatives of the North itself.”

Balgruuf sat on the seat, looking to the Elsweyr representatives. “ Skyrim doesn’t have a stance on it, nor what side we support at the moment, we feel however that it’s a matter for the Khajiits to solve, a civil conflict that requires no outside intervene , if I may say, if there is a spill over onto your lands , you may engage with the hostile forces, but until then…. the Khajiit should be able to take care of their own problem” stated Balgruuf.

“Your own civil conflict was not without ‘outside’ interference, Balgruuf, or do you forget the Imperials who died on Whiterun’s doorstep, defending it from Ulfric. If you think I will sit and watch as innocent beings are slaughtered in within helping distance, you are sadly mistaken, and I have overestimated the Nord’s sense of honour.”

“ I ain’t saying in that way, that I enjoy this slaughter , that I enjoy a country being split apart due to ideology's, I know this. I lost my hold because of this. But if we assist one side, it’ll come back to haunt us , it’ll be wise if we send healers and basic medical teams to treat civilians and troops of both side and help maintain cease-fire zones and purpose peace talks , but those conflict should remain the choice of the Khajiit, not outside superpowers wanting a piece or something out of the Khajiit.” said Balgruuf

Yagurz grumbled a bit before looking to Khajiiti representatives, and then looking to Rules-With-Claws, “If a cease to conflict is what is being sought after, then perhaps it would be best for leaders of each side of the conflict to call a ceasefire and work out their differences in a neutral location, such as Skyrim, Hammerfell, Orsinium, Morrowind, or really any other province.”

At the suggestions of various leaders, a militiaman perked up with rage. “How can all of you talk of ceasefire when they have just sacked our city? None of you understand what this is, the North wants to destroy our lives, and we’ll fight back to destroy theirs!” S’arah placed a sharp glance on the Khajiit, telling him to stop talking.

“While what my colleague said was rash, his sentiment is certainly correct ” S’arah continued from the militiaman’s rant. “We cannot negotiate when Corinthe is under occupation and other territories under constant harassment. Lord Argonian, we ask for your assistance in protecting our homeland, as the warriors of Black Marsh would act as fine peacekeepers. In addition, we would also like to extend trade with various nations. The Imperial occupation and their puppets currently maintain a blockade without any justification. This heavy reduction in trade brought upon supply shortages, causing unnecessary suffering for our people.”

“We attacked Corinthe with the aim of killing no innocents and only those who pose a threat! Any innocents that did die, died in a conflict that shouldn’t have happened but everyone is to blame for! Ab’Farahn finds it funny how you go on about us destroying your cities, rightfully, the cities are also ours. Also, you can’t talk, you’re the ones who burnt down our towns, including Takar!” Roared Ab’Farahn. With a face of disgust. “It’s our land, don’t you see, the both of us, all the Khajjit. But it’s impossible to negotiate when we are both fighting each other! And what are we fighting over? The death of the Mane? He will return in another form! until then we wait. We are the land of Elsweyr with our great canyons and cities! We should be together! Surely we can settle this soon.” Then he paused to think. “And we are not northern puppets! They have not controlled any of the Northern methods in the war! And an abduction? We certainly have nothing to do with that, and if you’re accusing the Empire of it, Why would they need to?! They have Northern Elsweyr on their side, and soon hopefully an allied, peaceful Elsweyr. They would have no need. Personally, Ab’Farahn thinks that an enemy of the Empire, The many that we have,” He laughed “Did it and tried to blame on the Empire…” He paused again. “Argonian, we would have no need to attack you unless you were in the way of our conflict with the south. Ab’Farahn gives you his word. You stay out of this, and nothing will happen to you. Why are North and South in a war. Can’t we just end it now. We are like two pieces of a puzzle, only we are not pieced together. On a final note, Ab’Farahn is fed up of everyone taking their own part in our conflict, stay out of it for your own sake, if not ours… Thank you!” He raised his hand to indicate that he was done talking.

The Councillor stepped in to speak again “While Ab’Farahn’s reply could have been more constrained, you can understand his displeasure, considering he’s just been called a false ruler and beset by both Black Marsh and the South, who have attempted to make the South appear angelic and the north appear aggressive. The burning of Takar came before the attack on Corinthe, and unlike Corinthe, where much of the civilian population still lives, there was only one survivor from Takar. As for the accusations of abduction, what does the North stand to gain from that? All they would have needed to do is take over all of Elsweyr and the abduction would have been entirely pointless, no, there is some external hand in that one, and either side in this conflict would have done such a thing. Ab’Farahn’s word that he would only attack Argonian forces if they were to be fighting for the south may not mean much to you, but the Empire shall ensure that he sticks to it, as for a ceasefire, it has been called for and promptly ignored, so it is not true that the south is trying to avoid this conflict. The south can slander the North and it’s Imperial allies all they want, but they have shown their arguments to be hollow and their accusations to be heavily hypocritical. Indeed, I find it odd that I was prevented from making a speech against the Thalmor earlier, which was arguably less insulting and hypocritical as this one, and yet now the one who prevented me from making my speech is actively joining in on slandering the North, calling their leader a ‘False ruler’ and how they are ‘Imperial Puppets’. Neither the South nor Black Marsh can talk about slaughtering innocents, the attack on Corinthe came after Takar was razed and the Norths lives were destroyed first, so it was not unprovoked, the argument that the North might be involved in an abduction does not stand up to inspection, as they could have just tried over all of Elsweyr and achieve the same, the blockade is in place to stop you importing goods to burn down another town, or are we forgetting Takar? The Arguments here do not stand up to closer inspection and neither side seems to have truly clean hands, no matter how much they want you to think that. As for the outburst from one of the Souths soldier, there’s been a great war in which many people had their homes burnt, including my own, Sacking of the Imperial City and the sort, and certainly Hammerfell has felt such a blow. Black Marsh has ravaged the South of Morrowind not so long ago and the Orcs get routinely invaded by their neighbours, so no, I’m sure none of us know what it’s like at all…”

“Our invasion of Morrowind was the ill-thought out acts of a previous government. The sacking of Corinthe is something that can be addressed, directly, to the perpetrator himself.” Stalks-The-Stars was staring at the Khajiit, sizing him up and offering the catfolk a chance to attack. Daring him, almost. “We of Black Marsh will supply a Battalion of An-Xileel to Southern Elsweyr: purely as peacekeepers. We will not engage in any offensive engagement, including the retaking of Corinthe.”

He paused to let his words have their full effect, before speaking again. “Imperial, you cite example after example of nations failing to help each other.You repeat the times in which neighbours abandoned one another or warred with one another for personal gain. You may wish to propagate another generation of failure, but the new Black Marsh will not do so. Our alliances will be honoured, our pacts made truth and our sense of justice will defend those who have no one else to defend them. If you or your empire call the death of even one innocent life, no matter the reason, then I your banner is already less than dirt.”

The impassioned speech was a cutting one, it seemed that Stalks-The-Stars was a much more opinionated creature than his father. “However, as a sign of good faith: The Argonian people swear that no Shadowscale shall operate in Northern Elsweyr. We want the best resolution, and that means letting the north and south debate it for themselves...Fairly, without the threat of more burning cities or innocent dead.”

“ Before Skyrim talks on the issue , we want to finish of , f trade negotiations with the Imperials.” stated Balgruuf.

The Councillor turned his head to Balgruuf “I think that finishing our negotiations would be an excellent idea, though I think we should not brush over the issue of Elsweyr so quickly, I do think those are more pressing”

“ Skyrim Purposes we send you gold ingots and silver ingots, in exchange for food and various crops, and wine “ said Balgruuf.

The Councillor nodded, somewhat absently as if his mind was still on the topic of Elsweyr “I think we’ll find those terms acceptable, as we have an excess of food, to be sure. I would like to ask for one more thing from you, however. The dawnguard are known to have tamed trolls to serve them, as you can imagine the Empire is quite interested in knowing how once would do this, taming some of Cyrodiils trolls would be very useful to us”

“ The Dawnguard would happily help you, in-exchange however, I would like to install a Dawnguard Military installation in Cyrodiil to fight against Vampires and other Rogue Warlocks and spirits.” Proposed Balgruuf

“A dawnguard military base, you say? I suppose that is acceptable, of course if I would be allowed to choose it’s location and there would be a hndful of Guardsmen on sight to observe and protect, I would propose that it is established in the former Cultist site of Lake Arrius Caverns, having such brave people in a former lair of evil would certainly help calm peoples nerves, especially after recent Cultist troubles in Cheydinhal. Though I must suggest we do get back to the task at hand, I think that Elsweyrs troubles are somewhat more pressing than trade agreements, do you not agree?”

"Morrowind would like to extend its concerns about the event that occurred in Cheydinhal." Says Ildoryn who kept his silence all this time, only to break it when the Imperials mentioned the town near the Velothi Mountains. "According to the reports we received, its the Ordinators of Morrowind that took care of the Cultists hideout in our shared border. Morrowind is the rightful claimant of the site, the Empire cannot decide on what the site will be until Morrowind is finished with its investigations.”

“You are the rightful claimant of Lake Arrius Caverns, which lay near Lake Arrius on our side of the mountains, just above Cheydinhal? I’m afraid that Cheydinhal County is Imperial Land, belonging to the city and Count of Cheydinhal, not Morrowind” Count Cheydinhal said, as he cocked an eyebrow to the Dark Elf’s words “As for taking care of the Cultists, we do thank you for that, they had managed to nestle themselves away quite well in those mountains, but that doesn’t allow you to claim my lands…”

Ildoryn raised his eyebrows for a second before speaking. "Ah, forgive me count, I've merely jumped to the conclusion that you were referring to the cultist hideout my people cleansed for you." Ildoryn snaps his fingers and lets one of his guards carry a jar with scores of dust covering the contents to the count’s chair. "Morrowind would like to apologize for intruding your deal with our Nordic friends, we also take back our claim over the land you were referring to."

The count receives the jar from the guard, who goes back to Ildoryn's side after doing the act. "Its something our men have found on the cave. Since you are the rightful ruler of the land, that jar rightfully belongs to you as well, it would be indecent if Morrowind held on to such a thing." Ildoryn says before plastering a faint smile towards the councilor. "I'm sure your people can protect its citizens well, expect that Morrowind wouldn't extend further claims to your land in the future."

The Count took the jar and wiped off some of the dust from the side, before his face hardened and he placed it down out of sight, under the table… The Councillor looked over and his eyes widened “I… Uh, Yes… Thank you for returning it” The Count stuttered, taken somewhat off guard by the sudden, grotesque image. The Councillor took over quickly, relieving the count
“I’m sure the Count will be careful to step up his efforts in the future…” The Councillor said, choosing his words carefully to try and save face “It showed a very big flaw in the management, one which is being repaired, I assure you...”

“Our people will be relieved to hear of it. It was our kin that suffered the most from the attacks. Morrowind can rest easy, now that the Empire gives us the assurance of safety of the Dunmer in its lands.” Ildoryn added, his face shows a slight expression of satisfaction upon seeing the count turn pale, though he hides it by covering his face with a cup of mead.

Dornthal cleared his throat to gain attention of the summit as the topic of Elsweyr was brought up. "As we are discussing the events in Elsweyr, I do believe we should also bring our attention just a little further west. Valenwood as many of you may know is currently in turmoil, so much so no representative from that land was even able to be sent. The possibility of further conflict is almost assured, and no talk of peace can be taken unless some kind of agreement is made. As it is well known, the Dominion has used Valenwood as a staging platform for their invasions of the rest of Tamriel for as long as any race can remember. Hammerfell hardly wishes it to return to High elven hands any more than the Imperials. Though nothing pertaining to ownership of the province can take place without a Valenwood representative present, we can at least agree that no foreign force may assault the province in any hostile fashion. Thus a non-aggression pact would be most prudent, does everyone agree?"

“ Skyrim can not commit any forces to help the cause , I presume Jartod has a few campaigns planned to eliminate hostile factions in Skyirm.” stated Balgruuf. “ However a Non-Aggression Pact would be good” said Balgruuf.

Aelid would speak now, having listened long enough to the various representatives of nations voice their thoughts and concerns. His face was hard, and serious, as if he knew he must be fierce if to be understood.

“The Aldmeri Dominion has heard much, yet seen little. I applaud the Argonians of Black Marsh for their decisive stand on this issue, and as such I shall do the same. With the agreement of allowing a Dominion Representative who reports to me, not the Thalmor, into the personal council of the Southern Leaders, I would send them aid. This aid would be in the form of ships which would end the Imperial Embargo of the Seas on the South, using force if necessary. Though we are sure it won’t come to that, will it, Councillor?”

“That might help if we had an embargo on the sea’s, Altmer, it’s not us blocking that avenue” The councillor said, cocking an eyebrow “As for your stance, of course you would do so, but your lack of knowledge on the Imperial Embargo’s actions and location shows your true lack of care for the situation or the people of Elsweyr, and your words belie your intentions merely using the suffering of Elsweyr to undermine the Empire for your own ends, but then everyone knew that would be the case, so it’s hardly surprising.”

Aelid smiled and nodded with humility, then took a small sip of his luxurious summer wine in his elven goblet before replying with a slight smirk.

“Imperial, our problem is not with you, but with your intervention in the lands of Elsweyr. Did you not notice that my only demands for the people I would see protected is that food is allowed to reach their shores. Is this too much to ask of such Tyrants as Men? We have only recently struck a peace deal, but bite your tongue, man. I do not fear you.”

The councillor grinned and spoke again “I don’t ask you to fear me as you do not inspire fear in me either, or indeed anyone in this room, the truth of the matter is that you do not really care again, you are simply moving to undermine us once more and make yourself appear bigger, as I pointed out before you don’t seem to care much for the Khajiit, as you didn’t even take the time to find out what the imperial embargo was doing or where it was before you spoke, if you did you would have known the embargo was from Valenwood, and they don’t export any vast quantities for food now, do they? Their only other source of foreign food at the time was the Empire, and you can hardly make yourself independent and expect food to keep coming in, no one would have to renegotiate a trade arrangement, would they not? And, in fact, if you had taken the time to learn ANYTHING about Elsweyr, you would have learnt that it is only near the south that the soil is fertile, so if the north was embargoed a lack of food might make sense, but it is the south whose trade with Valenwood and the Empire has ended, is it not?”

“Make whatever point you will, but do it with a smile and pleasant tone, or I would slit your throat before this entire audience, man.” Aelid said seriously, frowning at the insults of the human.
“I have done my best to keep snide remarks and the like to a minimum, yet you seem to lash out at me with unrestrained fury and hatred. You say I am the bigot..?” Aelid smiled and bowed his head slightly, yet now his smile was cold and malicious.
“Now, I would expect Respect, or shall we take this outside..?” Aelid spoke cheerfully, yet with a dead stillness to him.

“I shall not be spoke down to and have my entire race called Tyrants, when you do it with a proper tone, then maybe I shall. If you try to slit my throat, I tell you that you will face a very staunch resistance. It is clear to anyone that you are the one who is being snide and hateful, considering you just insulted four of the nations at this meeting, one of which has yet to take a side and the other two who are neutral.”

“Your voice drolls on words that have no meaning, Councilor. Perhaps this Cease-fire was a mistake. The Empire still seems weighed down by the past, and by their hatred for my kind.”

“Yes, I hate you because of the past and not because of the way that you insult my kind… I must say you’re tiring me, can you take it back to the matter at hand and stop turning it into a personal vendetta? Thank you.”

“If you’ve such a problem with it, why don’t you come stop me?” Aelid taunted once more with a nod, his hand sliding to his own sword handle.
“My request is a simple one, I have tried vehemently to keep the snide remarks to a minimum, You appear to be doing no such thing. I would ask you to do so, face me with honor, or leave this summit. You disgrace not only the Dominion by having us engage in such petty disputes, but you disgrace the Empire as well as Black Marsh, who must host such a thing.”

“Because we are in a place of diplomacy, and not a field of battle?” The Councillor said, cocking an eyebrow once more as he was asked to fight “Your version of minimum differs greatly from my own, it seems. If this is such a petty dispute, then why are you getting involve and so irate over it, King Aelid?”

“I would not be disrespected over and over while I attempt to keep peace. If you won’t try and play nice, neither will I, Imperial.”

“If you want to keep the peace, maybe you should start by not telling me to fight you. Lets end this petty game and get back to Elsweyr, shall we?”

“You call it a mere ‘fight’, but we both know it to be a Duel, with Honor. The Nords are said to know much of such things, and it is doesn’t surprise me that the Imperials have lost the ways to such a tradition without them. In any case, though, I would agree that the region of Elsweyr is far more important than dealing with a disrespectful ambassador.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but I’m here to act as a diplomat, not duel. And yes, I agree, so let us return to Elsweyrs troubles, and stop this game of tongues, hm? I grow tired of hearing the same words tossed across a table” The Councillor said, shaking his head slowly as he glanced to the Count, who let out a grin before hiding it quickly by taking a drink from his goblet. “Does anyone else wish to voice an opinion on Elsweyr?”

“After such recent transgressions, I believe the Dominion shall send a token force to defensively aid the South as well, as the Argonians have done. I’m sure the Empire understands our concern for the Southern Confederacy.” Aelid nodded, and looked to Rules-With-Claws, wondering what troops he could send to most effectively compliment the Argonians.

“Here to keep the peace he says, yet sends soldiers the next second. Do what you will with your force, may they be blessed with luck, for I think they shall need it.” The Councillor said with a smile, before turning his head to look at the other diplomats “Now, does anyone else have an opinion to voice on Elsweyr”

Aelid smiled legitimately now, actually filled with a light warmth for a moment, and took a sip of his wine. He nodded to the Imperial, seemingly pleased with the man.
“Now you're playing the game of politics, Councillor!” The High King said with a slight chuckle.

Dornthal watched the imperial and mer argue for sometime finding it somewhat amusing at first, but it soon grew old quite quickly.

"Enough of this, I would kindly ask both Imperial and mer to kindly remove the stick firmly lodged up their rear ends and stop bickering like old hens, or fight, kill each other and be done with it. As for the matter of Elsweyr, Hammerfell has no stake in the matter, currently, however the longer the conflict goes on, the less safe the waters in which we wish to trade across become. An agreement between both the south and north must be made if further civil war is to be avoid."

“I agree with the Yokudan. It is my belief that with proper negotiations, Corinthe may be returned to the South, with the agreement that the South pay reparations for...Takar?”

“This is an agreeable first step.” Stalks-The-Stars nods, agreeing with the Altmer’s statement.on the matter. “We will however, continue with our plans to send a battalion of the Au-Xileel as peacekeepers in the south, with the stipulations we have already stated.”

“Outrageous, we will not-” the militiaman’s response was cut by S’arah, who slammed the Khajiit back onto his chair.

“Forgive my colleague here, “the tigress apologized. “The food of Black Marsh have agitated him, perhaps the guards would kindly show him to the latrine?” At her request, two Argonians appeared beside the militiaman, escorting him to a nearby building.

“Now, onto the matter at hand.” S’arah nodded to the Argonian. “Your battalion would be most welcomed in protecting our peace. Contrary to the North’s belief, we also want a united Elsweyr. Therefore we accept all offers under one condition, the rebuilt Takar shall be initially under Southern administration, until an agreement can be reached.”

“Wait…” Ab’Farahn paused for a while. “Ab’Farahn does not see why we should give you back Corinthe and allow you to rebuild Takar under your rule. Almost everyone from Takar is dead anyway, therefore, it is pointless to rebuild it as no one will live there unless they are moved. What makes it even more pointless, is that you will rule it.” Again he paused “Also, Ab’Farahn notices you don’t speak in the way of Khajiit. You don’t name yourself or say ‘she’ or ‘this one’, as Ab’Farahn and other Khajiit do. Ab’Farahn does not believe you are from Elsweyr… Are you, S’arah?” He finished with a sharp, suspicious stare.

“If Ab’Farahn is finished with his nitpicking, we shall return to the main issue.” S’arah countered.

The councillor cut in quickly “In Ab’Farahn’s defense, every Khajiit I have ever met has spoken in such a way, does he not have a right to question why you do not speak as such? If you claim to be of Elsweyr, does he not have a right to question that claim if you do not speak like you are from Elsweyr? If the Empire sent a representative who spoke as though he was from the Thalmor, would nobody question such? Why can Ab’Farahn not question someone who claims to represent Southern Elsweyr, but does not sound like they are from Southern Elsweyr?”

“Councillor, you have injected yourself, an outsider, into Khajiiti issues. What do you actually know of Elsweyr? Ab’Farahn, are you so self-absorbed that you resort to attacking people’s speech?”

“You do not speak like Khajiit, Ab’Farahn merely points this out, Ab’Farahn agree’s with the Councillor, how can this one trust you to represent the south if you do not sound like Khajiit? Even the Khajiits that are not raised in Elsweyr, or by Khajiit, have this way of speech. It is part of Khajiit culture. Everything Ab’Farahn does is for the people of Elsweyr. Do not say that this one is self-absorbed, when clearly, something is suspicious here.”

"It doesn't mean that someone who speaks differently, deserves to be questioned like this Ab'Farahn. One does not determine a position of a person by where or how the person is raised, as long as their motives promote the belief of the people they represent, who are we to judge them?" Ildoryn suddenly says in defense of S'arah. “This is a slanderous accusation that Morrowind finds disturbing.”

“It does matter! This is the war of Elsweyr!” Snapped Ab’Farahn “Not the war of Tamriel! This is Khajiit versus Khajiit. How can Ab’Farahn trust someone if they’re masquerading as Khajiit. How can Ab’Farahn sort this out if the south’s leader is a foreign agent. The south wouldn’t like it if Ab’Farahn was a foreign agent. Ab’Farahn does not find this fair on the people of all of Elsweyr. The people are fighting a war for Elsweyr, when one side isn’t even led by the Khajiit. How can anyone say foreigners should stay out of this if a foreigner is leading one side…”

“You speak of a war between Khajiits, yet you bow down in front of the Imperials. Led by foreigners? That is precisely what Northern Elsweyr is, a puppet of Cyrodiil.”

“Oh no, we’re not. The Imperials do not control us! We are an alliance not a puppet! They do not command us, we work together. Ab’Farahn could easily tell the Imperials that Elsweyr does not want to be allied with them anymore. Alliances are for the good of more than one province.”

[Part One of Two]
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[Part Two of Two]

“I must agree, how can the Empire be told it should stay out when both the Dominion and the Argonians shall send forces, and the South might not even have someone from Elsweyr, possibly not even a Khajiit, representing them. I do sense a lot of hypocrisy here, I am afraid.”

“Enough, all of you!” Rules-With-Claw barked, he was fed up with all this nonsense. “Both of you Khajiits were not even invited guests to start with and now you dare to completely derail our summit? Out of here now! Councillor and representative Ildoryn, you will stop fueling to this flame at once.”

“Fine, Ab’Farahn doesn’t need to commune in the summit anyway.” He stood up and left with the few Khajiit he brought with him.

Before S’arah could speak, a miltiaman was already standing with a finger pointed to his opposition. “True Khajiits settle disputes on the battlefields, this one will see you there.” Following the militiaman, S’arah pretended to shake her head. In reality, she couldn’t be more cheerful. A peace disrupted means a weakened Tamriel, a surefire path to her lucrative bonus. Before leaving through the door, she gazed briefly at Ildoryn and nodded at him in courtesy.

Before Ab’Farahn left he turned around and said “Don’t worry… We will…” He then left.

The Councillor then cut in “Very well, Rules-With-Claw.” The Councillor said, nodding, before turning his head to the militiaman “So much for a peaceful solution then.”The Councillor nodded to one of the soldiers behind him, who returned the nod and followed after Ab’Farahn.

Ildoryn nodded in silence, he wasn’t really that fired up yet, but he was eager to support S’arah to halt any further inquiries that might have exposed her true identity.

“Ab’Farahn.” The soldier said, once they were out of an ear shot of the Summit. He approached and whispered “On your way through Cyrodiil, inform count Leyawiin that the peace has failed, and upon your return to Elsweyr inform the Governor-Millitant that he is to proceed with the contingency plan” He said, nodded before raising his voice to a normal level “Until we meet again, hm?”

“Yes, we may meet again soon. Hopefully, when this is all over.” Ab’Farahn replied and continued on his journey to Elsweyr.

The soldier nodded to Ab’Farahn and returned to the summit, whispering in the Councillors ear, who nodded and whispered something back to him. The Soldier scuttled out again. The Councillor spoke up “So what’s next on the agenda for us all to discuss?”

(Nord Thoughts on South’s statement)

The Argonian ruler sighs, massaging his forehead with two fingers as he felt the difficulty of the summit for the second time in as many days. He was not good at the act of diplomacy, perhaps it was because he was too honest. His son had far more patience for bickering, even if he was being uncharacteristically firm in the affairs of the Khajiit. “I think discussing the issue of Valenwood will be difficult without the representation of the Bosmer. Therefore, we shall return to the more productive discussions of this summit. Does anyone have any concluding words on the talk of peace and trade? The Argonians are pleased with the construction of the docks,as well as the alliance with the orcs and the High elves, as well as the peaceful accord struck with the Dark elves.

Yagurz groaned at the proceedings, the incessant arguing, and final motioned over to one of his guards, handing him a sealed letter detailing the deals that the Orcs had made at the summit so far. “Send a runner out to Orsinium. That letter should beat us home by a day, and then I can begin to talk immediately with King Burkash about the tactical and strategic gain from these moves.” The Orc nodded and took the letter, giving it to a courier to send all the way to Orsinium.

“Nothing more to say? Perhaps that is for the best. Tempers threaten to flare and the peace talks we have had today would be for naught if unraveled by the words of politicians and diplomats.” Rules-With-Claw stands up from the head of the stone table, grasping a goblet full of heavy Argonian liquor.

“As I started the summit with a toast, it seems fitting I should end with one.” He clears his throat for one last time, ensuring the last of people’s attention was on him for one last time. “A toast, to all the representatives and all the provinces of a joint Tamriel. May the whole of Nirn know and envy the cooperation showed today: for it paves the future for a truly fair Tamriel, more perfect than any empire of conquest and more pure than any land crafted through domination.”
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Oravos the Nerevarine
22nd Midyear 4E, 205
Meeting Hall, New Vivec

The footsteps of Oravos echoed in the silent room, the councilors all sat properly on their seats, not attempting to argue with each other as they were summoned for a meeting in the middle of the night. As Oravos reach the front of his ivory seat, the councilors stood up and faced their king, watching him briefly before he told to them take back their seats.

"I'm hoping that everyone here knows the gravity of the matter I'm about to inform you, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here instead of sleeping." Oravos says before snapping his fingers, letting one of his royal guards to lay down the map of Tamriel on the table."The vision I had of the Akaviri has finally come, the people of the east are now waiting on the shores of Esroniet, planning their invasion of Tamriel." he says before briefly pausing. "Though their arrival is earlier than I've predicted, they won't be stepping on Dunmer territory as invaders... but as our allies." he says, making the councilors break their silence to speak with each other in shock, only to be scolded by Oravos.

"I've brokered a deal with Akavir to spare Morrowind from the Invasion, and in return, we'll provide them a staging ground to attack Argonia and the Empire." The murmurs of the councilors suddenly uttered positive words, as all of them wanted a payback for those who attacked Morrowind. "Akavir will also establish trade and support Morrowind's endeavors, in return for its cooperation." The councilors all nodded with each other, approving at what their king was saying. It might be the Moon-and-Star affecting their decision, but they can't do anything about it anyways, promises was already carved on stone.

"I wish everyone to be discreet of this information, only your trusted servants should know of this... Now that being said, I wish to move this meeting, so we could discuss our plan of action..."

--- A few days after ---

27th Midyear 4E, 205
Meeting Hall, New Vivec

"...House Sadras must pay for its crime against our people! Not only did they murder our men, but also defiled them like a scrib!" shouted by the Grandmanster of House Dres. "I understand your concern Grandmaster Pavlev, but we have no concrete evidence that Sadras did commit the crime. Having their name etched in blood on the walls, doesn't really mean that they are responsible, it might be a set up." says Oravos who already spent an hour hearing both representatives of Sadras and Dres argue and accuse each other.

"With all due respect my King, if you'd give us permission to investigate further on the scene, I'm sure our Ordinators will find out something." the Ordinator General says. The general wasn't usually allowed on such meetings, but seeing that no other house wants to initiate the investigation other than the vengeful Dres, the Ordinators had to step in. "You may proceed with further investigations, in the mean time, representative Ysarde Sadras, you are to be detained in the High Temple's prison, until Sadras' innocence comes to light."

The representative didn't say a word as she stand, she knew that improper actions would only render her dead, and her innocence was clearer than the sky of Morrowind now. "Once this is over.. our house will see to it that Dres will pay for its baseless accusations." she says before being escorted out by a group of Ordinators.
Ildoryn Sarano
27th Midyear 4E, 205
Tear, Morrowind

Ildoryn arrives at Tear, surprised that the army deployed along the eastern shores were gone on his return. "Whats the meaning of this?" he asks the Redoran captain inside the war room "Our King ordered the withdraw of the army back to Narsis, it seems that there's a campaign brewing, but there's no orders from our superiors." says the captain. "I see.. well I'm sure he received the results of the summit in Stormhold, which would probably explain this.." Ildoryn says before the captain speaks again. "There's also a message for you, it just arrive this morning sera" says the captain again before handing him a scroll.



After reading the letter, Ildoryn crumpled the paper and tossed it into a lamp, burning the paper. Unlike Oravos who can conjure spells effortlessly, Ildoryn was only master of the blade, casting a spell would no doubt take his precious time, when he could burn it on a different way.
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