A group of people are gathered around forming a circle, black robes covering their bodies and faces and only with a single dim candle illuminating the place, could it be a dungeon? A house? Or are they outisde in a night with no moon or stars? It is impossible to determinate, just like it is impossible to know who is the one who steps forward and, with a distorted voice shouts
"Brothers and sisters! The time for the reckoning is near, soon our wishes shall be fulfilled and the whole Illiac bay will fall to our feet and beg for mercy!"
The group felt into an unintelligible chanting of arcane words of praying and the one that talked stepped onto the candle, leaving the place in complete darkness.
In a certain port town in Anticlere, Charenvale, a bunch of Nords step out of their Knarr ship and having traveled around Tamriel for quite a long time. Their objetive is unkown, what could a crew of nord be planning in High Rock? Without caring about dragging attention with their golden hair and blue eyes, the men walked quickly through the streets and sheltered themselves inside the closest inn. Inside said inn a certain imperial girl who had arrived recently upon receiving a letter was having a rest as well and her looks, around the middle 20s, black hair and blue eyes, caught the attention of the nords. One of them, a one eyed barbarian with blonde hair called Jalfard approached the girl and asked
"Hello girl. What's a pretty young girl like you doing all alone here? Would you like some company?"
A certain member of the court of Stoklech was walking up and down inside his comfortable room in the palace nervous as a sane man could be. Books laying on the floor alongside broken vases and plates, signs of desperation and impatience. His assistant, a young lad with athletic complexion spoke
"How about the fighters guild?"
"No, this is something that requires force, but that much."
"And the knights of the Flame?"
"Idiot! Knights hold their honor too high for such a thing."
An uncomfortable silence followed until the assistant talked again
"Sir, I know of someone, a nord huntress who has been living and hunting around here for some time now. She is definitely strong, and as far as I know she isn't affiliated with any guild"
Yes! that would be perfect! Try to bring her here, as soon as possible."
The assistant left the room and grabbed a horse from the stables towards the house of said nord, finding the girl with black hair and blue eyes
"Are you Pisukisa? I'm Heren Tarkos My master requires your help."
The Sun was hitting hard in Hammerfell, and town of Cudajsia, in Dak'Fron was being punished by the unforgiving rays of the sun. A particular normal day, redguards were already customized to this heat, but not so much for a nord monk that happened to have arrived recently to the region. His clothes and long beard seemed unfitting for such weather, but the people of the place, despite not receiving visit from outsiders often, were open and gentle to him. In the inn of the Mouse and the Fawn there weren't much people there, but the monk had decided to stop there to rest from the sun, but suddenly the peace was disrupted by a group of knights who abruptly entered and their leader, a redguard woman shouted
"By imperial order all the people in this town are to be inspected suspicious of forbidden pagan rituals involving evil daedras."
The knights swiftly raided the place, looking behind counters, doors, tables and everything without warning. The captain, named Caoldi, approached the nord and with inquisitive tone she asked
"I see that you are a monk. If so, what Divine do you worship?"
A young Breton arrived at the doors of the capital of Daggerfall, conveniently named Daggerfall as well. What wasn't convenient was the time of his arrival, just fifteen minutes after the closure of the gates, and such he was about to be left outside in the middle of the night, prone to encounter packs of wolves, bears or even cursed skeletons. Not good, not good at all, and the guards at the door, atop the wall, weren't likely to be the ones who would yield so easily. He was about to ask the guards when he noticed a dum light in the distance alongside the wall, it was for a very brief moment, but he could swear that he saw someone in the darkness, and whoever it was, he was signaling the breton to get closer and approach him or her.
Thirst
The vast Alik'r desert had been a test of endurance for many adventurers and explorers for centuries, and for one of them, an argonian, it seemed like it was about to be his end.His water provisions had ran dry, and his moist skin wasn't taking well the scorch, but at least his cape covered him enough to not suffer from the horrible burns that he had witnessed on the corpses that now and then he encountered in his path, death of initiation. His head grew heavy and his sight grew dim, he needed to stop for now. And answering his prayers he arrived at a place formed with just 4 small houses, not enclosed by any walls or fences, in the middle of the dessert and with a sign that simply said "Maurp manor." Certainly none of the houses seemed big enough to be considered a manor, but for now that's all he had in sight, four small chalets, and there was a posibility of someone living in them.