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The Fourth Era, Year 10

Ten years ago, the Oblivion Crisis ended - Mehrunes Dagon was defeated in his bid to invade Tamriel and vanquished by the sacrifice of Martin Septim and the Amulet of Kings. With one horrifying chapter ended, another is soon to begin. High Chancellor Ocato, now Potentate, takes the reigns of the Empire alongside the Elder Council.

He inherits a crippled Empire: a steady string of disasters and treasons.

Five years ago, Red Mountain erupts, devastating Vvardenfell and parts of mainland Morrowind. Dunmer refugees flood into Cyrodiil and Skyrim.

Three years ago, Black Marsh secedes from the Empire. Elsweyr follows within months. The Empire is powerless to respond and its Legions shamefully withdraw back to Cyrodiil with no contest.

Two years ago, the Argonians invade Morrowind. It takes a native force to drive them out, and now Morrowind, too, hangs on the precipice of open secession. Throughout all this, the Council is in disarray, seemingly powerless to act in any meaningful capacity.

Three weeks ago, Potentate Ocato was found dead. Murdered by as-of-yet discovered assassins. His commitment to a peaceful restoration of order to Cyrodiil and the other provinces dies with him.

Any semblance of unity is shattered.

The Elder Council dissolves into infighting.

Civil war breaks out.

Across Cyrodiil, countless factions take up arms - either to keep the peace or to seize the Ruby Throne for themselves. In an Empire with no Emperor, anything goes and anyone may rise.

The remaining provinces, still crippled from the Oblivion Crisis and without standing armies of their own, wait in grim anticipation for a new Emperor to be crowned.

A powerful storm rocks the Imperial City, its eye bearing down on White Gold Tower.

The Stormcrown Interregnum

How This Will Work

Notes on the Setting

Things You’ll Need

1) A willingness to sustain casualties and face setbacks.
2) A working knowledge of the lore and world of The Elder Scrolls.
3) A Discord account, to facilitate easy communication with other players.
4) The ability to access google documents, where most of the juicy details and mechanics will be stored, and a willingness to read these documents.

What Comes Next?

This actually didn't get enough interest, plus I suddenly became terribly sick! So I'm shutting it down! The whole thing! Sorry!
Twi'lek Aren't Even That Attractive Anyway - Episode I

"We are not. Invading. Christophis."

Zothustro's cane impacted the ground at each period, attempting to emphasize his point.

"Oh, come on."

"I mean it, Dellso." Zothustro he raised his voice, Geonosian clicks and whistles echoing through the spacious war-room. His face tendrils (characteristic of elderly Geonosians) quivered with fury. Pol Dellso was a relative to the better known Gizor Dellso, albeit Pol was more apt a politician than an engineer like his brother. Both brothers seemed to share ridiculous ambitions nonetheless.

"It's the single most densely populated planet in our little niche of space. We can take it. The Retail Caucus is having a lot of problems, I hear."

The Retail Caucus was the primary governing authority on Christophis. It had formed early on in the Clone Wars, consisting of a decent amount of retailers operating out of the planet. They had held a sizable droid army before the Republic pulverized them. By the end of the war, they were dissolved, but had since come back. Nowhere near as influential off-system as they had been before, but they held considerable sway over Christophis. Sway that was presently being challenged by a variety of movements on the planet. Thirty-eight billion people were bound to have a great deal of different ideologies thrown into the mix. Now they were about ready to duke it out while the Caucus tried to keep order.

Taking the system when tensions boiled over would be easy. That wasn't Zothustro's chief concern.

"It's not a question of just taking the planet, you imbecile. It's a question of holding it. Do you have any idea how many assets we would have to divert? A logistical nightmare. Besides, I'm not convinced those scoundrels on Ryloth don't have it in for us."

Dellso waved a hand dismissively. "I assure you, your grace, the Twi'lek have no designs against us. They wouldn't dare. Their paltry desert kingdom is no match for our machines."

"Do you listen to the utter nonsense you spout half the time? We know they sent a delegation to Hypori. They'll be in bed with each other before long."

As one could reasonably expect, governments focused on maintaining a trade surplus and a powerful economy were bound to run afoul of each other in their pursuit of trade. Galactic economics were a dreadful affair. Taking a manufacturing juggernaut like Hypori and forcing it into competition with the economic powerhouse that was the Archduchy of Geonosis could only result in a trade war. No shots were fired, but relations between the two were chilly at best. It was only a matter of time before one of the powers opened fire first. Zothustro had intended to simply let the trade war continue until Geonosis emerged victorious. He was having second thoughts now that they were potentially looking to partner with Ryloth.

Ryloth's negative disposition to the Geonosian Archduchy was of the historic variety. Zothustro had the deceased Wat Tambor to thank for causing that, after the Skakoan had raped the planet of innumerable treasures in an effort to satiate his own greed. Pol Dellso didn't see what the big deal was. He thought it was funny. Since the Twi'lek had erroneously decided to blame the Archduchy for past crimes it had nothing to do with, Pol privately fantasized about pillaging the planet of treasures just as Tambor had done. Only this time it would be done correctly- and without a Republic to meddle in the process.

From the sound of it, he would have to settle, though.

"So we'll sack Hypori, then?" Pol ventured, a bloodthirsty glint more than evident in his eyes.

"Don't be ludicrous. They're too well entrenched."

"Then what?"

"Hypori's trade partners aren't as well defended. We'll start with them."

"Oh, please," Pol begged with a renewed sense of hope. "Can we sack Ryloth first?"

"They're the weakest of the bunch. At least, they will be once their delegation finalizes the details."

"Is that a yes?"

Zothustro clicked impatiently. "Go start mustering our forces."

Pol bowed to his liege before extending his wings and fluttering off. Dreams really do come true.

There's a NS for ye.
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