GreivousKhan said
"I suppose Orismer is going to receive the Battlemages by air?” - Imperial CouncillorBest line of this entire RP.
For the record, I have ships, dammit!
Damn good ones!
Prince Potter
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While we are talking about XIV I just want to mention how much I love Poro Roggo
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Bio
I am a man in my mid twenties who has been role playing since I was 10. I just recently moved to a new town to attend university, and I'm attempting to open up to new people, both in-person and online. I'm part of the official guild discord, so feel free to add me if you want. I love reading and writing, science fiction, and fantasy. In my off time if I feel like using my brain I enjoy reading classical literature. I recently finished Anna Karenina and have started Tale of Two Cities. I have also been slowly studying and learning French. Don't mind the low post count I normally do my RPing through private messaging.
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For the record, I have ships, dammit!
Damn good ones!
LimeyPanda said
The Document has sharing capabilities (I'm workng on the opening part first: which will set the scene and start the actual negotiations.) After that, people can put in their voice on whatever is said, and react in kind.
How long will this document be open? Just for a few hours today or for a few days in real life..?
22nd of Midyear
Alinor, summerset Isles, Capital of the Dominion.
Lord Regent Orthos of the Royal Fleet
The Lord Regent once more stood on the Docks, with the familiar lower tier merchant. He was sweating, and appeared nervous. Yet the Regent stood as calm and collected as ever, and patiently nodded for the merchant to continue what he was saying.
“Ships of Aldmeri quality take considerably longer to craft than those Imperials logs. We’ve had little trouble finding the supplies or workers for it, but the Arcane Society has yet to send any of their Mages to perform their standard enchantments on the sails and hulls. They say they have been too busy as of late to send anyone. I just don’t see how we will having anything more than a small force of ships ready by the time the High King returns.”
Orthos shrugged nonchalantly and nodded in affirmation to the merchant.
“I will go to the Crystal Tower and check up on the progress of its reconstruction, and speak with the Arch-Mage about sending you some Enchanters.” The Merchant bowed to the Regent and thanked him, before scuttling off to oversee the construction of additional ships. Orthos was about to turn and leave the docks when a strange sight caught him on the horizon; a Elven ship marred with scorch blasts and arrows sailed towards the Isles, though it was not Altmer.
From this great distance Orthos could not make out more, and quickly turned to a guardmen standing next to him, asking to go and get Lord-General Walden Estermont of the Renshi. Though Walden was a man, and thus inferior, he too had his strengths, and would deal with this strange ship on the horizon. Orthos had more important matters.
He turned and left the docks after sending word for Walden to prepare men to meet their visitors. The Lord Regent mounted his horse of pure white and rode hard to the Crystal Tower, finding it’s construction near completion. The original Crystal Tower only had five floors, while this one would have eight. The first five floors were completed and currently being used by the Society. Yet as the old and respected Altmer dismounted his horse, he found the Arch-Mage making his way outside to meet him, one of his Mages carrying a strange ornate box.
The Arch-Mage wore robes of a deep sapphire, given only to the upper caste of Mages at the Society. Both of the Mages to flanking him wore robes of yellow, indicating they were researchers and not trained for battle nor healing.
“Lord Regant Orthos, what a surprise to see you here on such short notice! I was hoping you would drop by soon, I’m afraid we have might quiet the astonishing discoveries. Our research has been developing faster than we had ever hoped; though I’m afraid we’ve hit a obstacle. Come, I will show you what I mean.”
The Arch-Mage and the Lord Regent both had similar shades of platinum silver hair, though Orthos would be considered in his mid-thirties to Men, the Arch-Mage was quiet obviously near the end of his life, and had learned much of the Arcane in his time. They sat down wordlessly within a meeting chamber within the tower, and Orthos swore he could feel the Magick in his blood thrum happily when he stepped inside such a heavily enchanted place. The room was dim, with only a single glow globe suspended in the air over the great glass desk. Orthos spoke first;
“I’m afraid it is simply mandatory you send some Enchanters to the Docks to work on the current fleet. I wish for Aelid to return home with more ships than he knows what to do with.”
The Arch-Mage frowned slightly and nodded, affirming it would be done. Yet As the reserachers began to open the box, the Arch-Mage spoke.
“We discovered atop Eton Nir a ruin of a city, much like Cloudrest. They say it was left by the original Aldmer. I must say, in all my years of Arcane Study, I had never seen such a thing. We dug at it for months, and discovered a ruin that we only recently translated.” He raised a small chipped seemingly golden tablet from the box, and handed it to Orthos.
The Lord Regent inspected it carefully, and found he could not read what was engraved in it, though the carvings were elegant and graceful in flow. He found all of this fascinating, but wondered how it helped the Dominion.
“I bet your wondering how any of this helps the Dominion.” The Arch-Mage spoke with a small smile and a twinkle in his old eyes. He looked at the researchers and various members in attendance and turned back to Orthos.
“I will write you a letter before you leave, instructing you on the specifics on what we’ve found and what you must do for the Dominion.”
Orthos did not like being ordered about, but the Arcane Society was indeed powerful, and they mustn’t bicker if they are to have any hope of survival. He nodded in agreement. Yet as the Admiral of the Royal Fleet began to rise, the Arch-Mage spoke again;
“There is only one last thing that we found in those ruins atop the mountain.” The old Altmer slowly stood up, his old age waring on him, and he raised a scroll of immense power out of the box.
“An Elder Scroll.” Orthos breathed wordlessly, as his eyes landed on the rather large scroll, native neither to this space nor time. It was bound shut tightly, and seemed to vibrate with secrets both large and small.
“We have no way of reading or opening the scroll, but we are placing it on the top level of the Crystal Tower, to be enchanted and sealed away until the time is right and we may use it for its purpose. It will be well guarded, Lord Regent.”
Orthos felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and he wondered how Aelid dealt with the pressures of running the Dominion on the daily. He supposed some mer were just made to design a heavier load than others. He nodded wordlessly to the Arch-Mage and turned, leaving the Crystal Tower only after receiving a letter marked with the symbol of the Arcane Society. His mind was abuzz with the strange golden tablet, and the elder scroll. He had completely forgotten about…
22nd of Midyear
Alinor, Summer Isles, Capital of the Dimonion.
Lord-General Walden Estermont
The imperial man walked with a brisk pace, kept even only by his trained and ready Renshi. Each of them was born and bred for war, yet not in the same way as the Nords of Sykrim. None of them had herculean muscles or huge Warhammers. Theirs was a more graceful way of combat, called Twin Blade fighting by some, and Dagger Dancing by others, it was the Ace in the Dominion’s pocket that Aelid developed during his rebellion.
Yet as this elite group of soldiers made their way to the docks, they found a Dunmer ship dropping anchor in port. Walden saw that the ship had obviously been fired upon heavily by someone, and his hands immediately dropped both to the sword and dagger at his belt. He approached the ship carefully, and saw the gleam of Thalmor armor aboard the ship.
“What is your purpose here, Dunmer?” Called Walden from the Dock.
“We have rescued several Dominion Officers, as well as a handful of troops.” Spoke a unnamed Ash-faced elf aboard the ship.
“We would be most grateful.” Walden spoke, impressed by the aid of these people. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as grim as he thought, if the Dunmer would still care to rescue Thlamor forces. Yet as the Dominion Officers crossed the gangplank from boat to Dock, Walden was caught up in seeing who had survived. Before he knew it, or had a chance to thank these saviors, the Dunmer had set sail once more.
Actions
-Enchantments for the New Fleet!
-Discovery of a Elder Scroll and Aldmer Ruin!
-Dominion Officers and Soldiers returned to Alinor!
Alinor, summerset Isles, Capital of the Dominion.
Lord Regent Orthos of the Royal Fleet
The Lord Regent once more stood on the Docks, with the familiar lower tier merchant. He was sweating, and appeared nervous. Yet the Regent stood as calm and collected as ever, and patiently nodded for the merchant to continue what he was saying.
“Ships of Aldmeri quality take considerably longer to craft than those Imperials logs. We’ve had little trouble finding the supplies or workers for it, but the Arcane Society has yet to send any of their Mages to perform their standard enchantments on the sails and hulls. They say they have been too busy as of late to send anyone. I just don’t see how we will having anything more than a small force of ships ready by the time the High King returns.”
Orthos shrugged nonchalantly and nodded in affirmation to the merchant.
“I will go to the Crystal Tower and check up on the progress of its reconstruction, and speak with the Arch-Mage about sending you some Enchanters.” The Merchant bowed to the Regent and thanked him, before scuttling off to oversee the construction of additional ships. Orthos was about to turn and leave the docks when a strange sight caught him on the horizon; a Elven ship marred with scorch blasts and arrows sailed towards the Isles, though it was not Altmer.
From this great distance Orthos could not make out more, and quickly turned to a guardmen standing next to him, asking to go and get Lord-General Walden Estermont of the Renshi. Though Walden was a man, and thus inferior, he too had his strengths, and would deal with this strange ship on the horizon. Orthos had more important matters.
He turned and left the docks after sending word for Walden to prepare men to meet their visitors. The Lord Regent mounted his horse of pure white and rode hard to the Crystal Tower, finding it’s construction near completion. The original Crystal Tower only had five floors, while this one would have eight. The first five floors were completed and currently being used by the Society. Yet as the old and respected Altmer dismounted his horse, he found the Arch-Mage making his way outside to meet him, one of his Mages carrying a strange ornate box.
The Arch-Mage wore robes of a deep sapphire, given only to the upper caste of Mages at the Society. Both of the Mages to flanking him wore robes of yellow, indicating they were researchers and not trained for battle nor healing.
“Lord Regant Orthos, what a surprise to see you here on such short notice! I was hoping you would drop by soon, I’m afraid we have might quiet the astonishing discoveries. Our research has been developing faster than we had ever hoped; though I’m afraid we’ve hit a obstacle. Come, I will show you what I mean.”
The Arch-Mage and the Lord Regent both had similar shades of platinum silver hair, though Orthos would be considered in his mid-thirties to Men, the Arch-Mage was quiet obviously near the end of his life, and had learned much of the Arcane in his time. They sat down wordlessly within a meeting chamber within the tower, and Orthos swore he could feel the Magick in his blood thrum happily when he stepped inside such a heavily enchanted place. The room was dim, with only a single glow globe suspended in the air over the great glass desk. Orthos spoke first;
“I’m afraid it is simply mandatory you send some Enchanters to the Docks to work on the current fleet. I wish for Aelid to return home with more ships than he knows what to do with.”
The Arch-Mage frowned slightly and nodded, affirming it would be done. Yet As the reserachers began to open the box, the Arch-Mage spoke.
“We discovered atop Eton Nir a ruin of a city, much like Cloudrest. They say it was left by the original Aldmer. I must say, in all my years of Arcane Study, I had never seen such a thing. We dug at it for months, and discovered a ruin that we only recently translated.” He raised a small chipped seemingly golden tablet from the box, and handed it to Orthos.
The Lord Regent inspected it carefully, and found he could not read what was engraved in it, though the carvings were elegant and graceful in flow. He found all of this fascinating, but wondered how it helped the Dominion.
“I bet your wondering how any of this helps the Dominion.” The Arch-Mage spoke with a small smile and a twinkle in his old eyes. He looked at the researchers and various members in attendance and turned back to Orthos.
“I will write you a letter before you leave, instructing you on the specifics on what we’ve found and what you must do for the Dominion.”
Orthos did not like being ordered about, but the Arcane Society was indeed powerful, and they mustn’t bicker if they are to have any hope of survival. He nodded in agreement. Yet as the Admiral of the Royal Fleet began to rise, the Arch-Mage spoke again;
“There is only one last thing that we found in those ruins atop the mountain.” The old Altmer slowly stood up, his old age waring on him, and he raised a scroll of immense power out of the box.
“An Elder Scroll.” Orthos breathed wordlessly, as his eyes landed on the rather large scroll, native neither to this space nor time. It was bound shut tightly, and seemed to vibrate with secrets both large and small.
“We have no way of reading or opening the scroll, but we are placing it on the top level of the Crystal Tower, to be enchanted and sealed away until the time is right and we may use it for its purpose. It will be well guarded, Lord Regent.”
Orthos felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and he wondered how Aelid dealt with the pressures of running the Dominion on the daily. He supposed some mer were just made to design a heavier load than others. He nodded wordlessly to the Arch-Mage and turned, leaving the Crystal Tower only after receiving a letter marked with the symbol of the Arcane Society. His mind was abuzz with the strange golden tablet, and the elder scroll. He had completely forgotten about…
22nd of Midyear
Alinor, Summer Isles, Capital of the Dimonion.
Lord-General Walden Estermont
The imperial man walked with a brisk pace, kept even only by his trained and ready Renshi. Each of them was born and bred for war, yet not in the same way as the Nords of Sykrim. None of them had herculean muscles or huge Warhammers. Theirs was a more graceful way of combat, called Twin Blade fighting by some, and Dagger Dancing by others, it was the Ace in the Dominion’s pocket that Aelid developed during his rebellion.
Yet as this elite group of soldiers made their way to the docks, they found a Dunmer ship dropping anchor in port. Walden saw that the ship had obviously been fired upon heavily by someone, and his hands immediately dropped both to the sword and dagger at his belt. He approached the ship carefully, and saw the gleam of Thalmor armor aboard the ship.
“What is your purpose here, Dunmer?” Called Walden from the Dock.
“We have rescued several Dominion Officers, as well as a handful of troops.” Spoke a unnamed Ash-faced elf aboard the ship.
“We would be most grateful.” Walden spoke, impressed by the aid of these people. Perhaps the situation wasn’t as grim as he thought, if the Dunmer would still care to rescue Thlamor forces. Yet as the Dominion Officers crossed the gangplank from boat to Dock, Walden was caught up in seeing who had survived. Before he knew it, or had a chance to thank these saviors, the Dunmer had set sail once more.
Actions
-Enchantments for the New Fleet!
-Discovery of a Elder Scroll and Aldmer Ruin!
-Dominion Officers and Soldiers returned to Alinor!
I'd be interested if I could be a one of the lawmen that John shot while breaking Bill out of prison. Later, my character went on to actually become a Federal Agent. I begin the story after returning to my hometown in the Wild West, after living in New York for many years. He is now a high paid city man, out to catch these desperadoes both for a promotion back at the office and for Vengence.
Eh?
Eh?
I'm in.
Stormhold, Blackmarsh
21st of Midyear
High King of the Aldmeri Dominion Aelid, Ruler of Alinor.
Aelid did not like Black marsh, and he thought the land disliked him. Since docking in the fairly sized coastal city of the region, their host of mer and horses had faced nothing but large insects, inhospitable temperature, and a plethora of other environmental disasters. He had sat upon his horse for what felt an eternity, idly swatting at the flying pests that the young king swore were after his royal blood in specific. The young Altmer was relieved to see Stormhold through a brief opening in the canopy of foliage overhead though, and knew within the hour they would be at the gates.
Dobin walked next to him, holding the reigns of his horse. His armor of silver and Elven smith stood a stark contrast in these lands. The young king looked about to the host of Altmer among him, and his eyes fell upon the High Justicar. Once the two made eye contact, it was almost as if they had both been waiting.
“You know that what happens in this council will decide the fate of our people, my liege?” The Thalmor Officer spoke with a stone cold voice, but Aelid knew better. Behind her xenophobia and bigotry, Aldra too had parents who loved her, and friends who cared for her wellbeing. Behind her hatred and fury was a child’s fear.
“I do. That is why I intend for this council meeting to go well.” Aelid forced a smile, and though it was charming, it was not genuine. The High Justicar relaxed a little, flashing a hint of a smile. He knew that many of the Altmer must be strained and stressed after the recent problems in the Dominion, and Aelid could only hope the reinforcements sent to Valenwood would be sufficient.
The party made their way to the gates, and the Altmer noticed both the Imperial Architecture and the uniquely Argonian craftsmanship as well. The place had slick, dark walls and none of the damned foliage he dislike of southern black marsh.Yet as they entered the gates of the city, Aelid found a Argonian dressed as nearly as brightly as his Kingsguard. The high elf admired the gleam of his glass cuirass, and the cape was the exact same length as the Order’s, barely brushing behind as you walked. The Argonian looked important, and the Altmer approached him.
“Greetings to you, native of the marsh. I am High King Aelid of the Aldmeri Dominion. I have travelled a very long ways with my guard, and would seek food and refuge until the morn. We have come bearing gifts, to honor your people.” Aelid clapped his gloved hands together, and two Altmer stepped through the crowd, each carrying one side of a large chest. It appeared heavy and awkward, and they set it down with only slight difficulty before the Argonian.
“Inside you would find fabrics and silks unseen anywhere else in Nirn other than the Summerset Isles, it is very comfortable and catches the light. The rich crimsons and vibrant emeralds of the swirling colors may bring some optimism to such a dark region…” Aelid chuckled lightly and looked around once more as he dismounted, and thought to himself one simply couldn’t argue that this WAS a dark place.
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Almderi Dominion
21 of Midyear
Lord Regant Orthos of Alinor, Admiral of the Royal Fleet.
Orthos stood in the Throne Room of the Palace, and paced back and forth with parchment clutched tightly in his fist. Near him stood three other Altmer, one of them a mere messenger boy, the other a Thalmor officer, the last was The High Queen.
“A Legate would dare send a letter such as this to our King Aelid!” Spat the Thalmor official angrily, his fury giving his words a potent sting. It was clear this news would spread throughout the Isles quickly, and enrage many of the Royal Class by the Insolence of this Barus.
“Do these stupid men really believe they could invade Alinor, anyhow? Fools! They shall all go to watery graves!” The Thalmor continued on, his brow knit angrily. Several people quickly skirted through the throne room, obviously on important business. The Lord Regant, looking for a distraction, called the small group, and quickly found they were in Mage’s Robes.
“And what presence in the Aldmeri Palace do you lot have?” Orthos asked politely.
“We are from the Arcane Society, Lord Regant. We we’re sent by our Arch-Mage to come to Library here and find a specific book about the lunar cycle. I’m afraid we’ve been sworn to secrecy for now on the subject, but we plan on aiding the Dominion greatly very soon.” The leader of this small pack, a young Altmer with silver eyes spoke proudly. Orthos was intrigued by this, but the irritated Thalmor brought him back to the task at hand.
“I see. Well, take what you need. I would also have you go see the Quartermaster, and report to him any requirements of obstacles you face in your experiment.” Orthos said seriously and with a nod, excusing the group. The lad nodded and thanked the Lord Regant, before scuttling away.
Orthos sighed and collapsed onto the Throne of the Dominion, and looked once more at the letter. The Lord Regant slowly began to smile as his eyes flicked across the parchment once more.
“The only thing I don’t understand is that they would ask we keep our Royal Fleet to a quarter the size of the Imperial one. Yet even being outmatched Four to One, I could still keep those damned Imperials out of our Harbors.” He smiled slyly at his own compliment, and saw even the Queen appreciated his humor. It appeared the Thalmor did not.
“You think this a laughing matter? The Imperials are right. They rally all of Tamriel to their banner, and while we may be superior they number too great!” The Thalmor was near indignant now, furious both at the Empire and at Orthos. Yet Orthos seemed cool and calm, and turned to the courier boy.
“Courier, pen a message to be delivered to The Empire. Tell them what we think of their treaty.” Orthos then turned his attention back to the Thalmor.
“And what care is it of mine their number? If every Altmer dies having killed a dozen Imperials, I will have considered it a victory, regardless their number.
Tell me, Officer. ..
Would you say the Emperor has truly beaten us, if he beats us only by drowning us in the blood of his men?”
Frontlines of Valenwood Conflict
23rd of Midyear
Courier
Rain pours down on Valenwood as what seems like endless numbers of bosmer hide away in what also appears to be endless trees. The Altmer jogs quickly along a forest trail, and is alone. He knows multiple sets of eyes watch him, but realized a while back on the path that if they wanted to kill him, they would have by now. He would reach the Imperial Camp without issue, and hand over a scroll bearing the official seal not only of the Aldmeri Dominion, but of the High King of Alinor as well. It would read thus;
“Legate Barus of the Imperial Legion,
The High King Aelid has left the Summer Isles, and as such, the Lord Regant handles only Royal Affairs. Npw, while I hope you find our relatives forest home comfortable, I cannot say I believe you will be residing their long. Not only is the Emperor too cowardly to even write to Aelid himself, but I found the terms of your treaty both laughable and dull. I would swear to you, that upon the return of the Thalmor to Valenwood, I personally shall take your head for this insult.
Best Wishes,
Lord Regant Orthos of Alinor."
Actions:
-Royal Host has reached Stormhold!
-The Arcane Society is receiving both Mercantile and Royal Funding now!
-Letter to the Legate
21st of Midyear
High King of the Aldmeri Dominion Aelid, Ruler of Alinor.
Aelid did not like Black marsh, and he thought the land disliked him. Since docking in the fairly sized coastal city of the region, their host of mer and horses had faced nothing but large insects, inhospitable temperature, and a plethora of other environmental disasters. He had sat upon his horse for what felt an eternity, idly swatting at the flying pests that the young king swore were after his royal blood in specific. The young Altmer was relieved to see Stormhold through a brief opening in the canopy of foliage overhead though, and knew within the hour they would be at the gates.
Dobin walked next to him, holding the reigns of his horse. His armor of silver and Elven smith stood a stark contrast in these lands. The young king looked about to the host of Altmer among him, and his eyes fell upon the High Justicar. Once the two made eye contact, it was almost as if they had both been waiting.
“You know that what happens in this council will decide the fate of our people, my liege?” The Thalmor Officer spoke with a stone cold voice, but Aelid knew better. Behind her xenophobia and bigotry, Aldra too had parents who loved her, and friends who cared for her wellbeing. Behind her hatred and fury was a child’s fear.
“I do. That is why I intend for this council meeting to go well.” Aelid forced a smile, and though it was charming, it was not genuine. The High Justicar relaxed a little, flashing a hint of a smile. He knew that many of the Altmer must be strained and stressed after the recent problems in the Dominion, and Aelid could only hope the reinforcements sent to Valenwood would be sufficient.
The party made their way to the gates, and the Altmer noticed both the Imperial Architecture and the uniquely Argonian craftsmanship as well. The place had slick, dark walls and none of the damned foliage he dislike of southern black marsh.Yet as they entered the gates of the city, Aelid found a Argonian dressed as nearly as brightly as his Kingsguard. The high elf admired the gleam of his glass cuirass, and the cape was the exact same length as the Order’s, barely brushing behind as you walked. The Argonian looked important, and the Altmer approached him.
“Greetings to you, native of the marsh. I am High King Aelid of the Aldmeri Dominion. I have travelled a very long ways with my guard, and would seek food and refuge until the morn. We have come bearing gifts, to honor your people.” Aelid clapped his gloved hands together, and two Altmer stepped through the crowd, each carrying one side of a large chest. It appeared heavy and awkward, and they set it down with only slight difficulty before the Argonian.
“Inside you would find fabrics and silks unseen anywhere else in Nirn other than the Summerset Isles, it is very comfortable and catches the light. The rich crimsons and vibrant emeralds of the swirling colors may bring some optimism to such a dark region…” Aelid chuckled lightly and looked around once more as he dismounted, and thought to himself one simply couldn’t argue that this WAS a dark place.
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Almderi Dominion
21 of Midyear
Lord Regant Orthos of Alinor, Admiral of the Royal Fleet.
Orthos stood in the Throne Room of the Palace, and paced back and forth with parchment clutched tightly in his fist. Near him stood three other Altmer, one of them a mere messenger boy, the other a Thalmor officer, the last was The High Queen.
“A Legate would dare send a letter such as this to our King Aelid!” Spat the Thalmor official angrily, his fury giving his words a potent sting. It was clear this news would spread throughout the Isles quickly, and enrage many of the Royal Class by the Insolence of this Barus.
“Do these stupid men really believe they could invade Alinor, anyhow? Fools! They shall all go to watery graves!” The Thalmor continued on, his brow knit angrily. Several people quickly skirted through the throne room, obviously on important business. The Lord Regant, looking for a distraction, called the small group, and quickly found they were in Mage’s Robes.
“And what presence in the Aldmeri Palace do you lot have?” Orthos asked politely.
“We are from the Arcane Society, Lord Regant. We we’re sent by our Arch-Mage to come to Library here and find a specific book about the lunar cycle. I’m afraid we’ve been sworn to secrecy for now on the subject, but we plan on aiding the Dominion greatly very soon.” The leader of this small pack, a young Altmer with silver eyes spoke proudly. Orthos was intrigued by this, but the irritated Thalmor brought him back to the task at hand.
“I see. Well, take what you need. I would also have you go see the Quartermaster, and report to him any requirements of obstacles you face in your experiment.” Orthos said seriously and with a nod, excusing the group. The lad nodded and thanked the Lord Regant, before scuttling away.
Orthos sighed and collapsed onto the Throne of the Dominion, and looked once more at the letter. The Lord Regant slowly began to smile as his eyes flicked across the parchment once more.
“The only thing I don’t understand is that they would ask we keep our Royal Fleet to a quarter the size of the Imperial one. Yet even being outmatched Four to One, I could still keep those damned Imperials out of our Harbors.” He smiled slyly at his own compliment, and saw even the Queen appreciated his humor. It appeared the Thalmor did not.
“You think this a laughing matter? The Imperials are right. They rally all of Tamriel to their banner, and while we may be superior they number too great!” The Thalmor was near indignant now, furious both at the Empire and at Orthos. Yet Orthos seemed cool and calm, and turned to the courier boy.
“Courier, pen a message to be delivered to The Empire. Tell them what we think of their treaty.” Orthos then turned his attention back to the Thalmor.
“And what care is it of mine their number? If every Altmer dies having killed a dozen Imperials, I will have considered it a victory, regardless their number.
Tell me, Officer. ..
Would you say the Emperor has truly beaten us, if he beats us only by drowning us in the blood of his men?”
Frontlines of Valenwood Conflict
23rd of Midyear
Courier
Rain pours down on Valenwood as what seems like endless numbers of bosmer hide away in what also appears to be endless trees. The Altmer jogs quickly along a forest trail, and is alone. He knows multiple sets of eyes watch him, but realized a while back on the path that if they wanted to kill him, they would have by now. He would reach the Imperial Camp without issue, and hand over a scroll bearing the official seal not only of the Aldmeri Dominion, but of the High King of Alinor as well. It would read thus;
“Legate Barus of the Imperial Legion,
The High King Aelid has left the Summer Isles, and as such, the Lord Regant handles only Royal Affairs. Npw, while I hope you find our relatives forest home comfortable, I cannot say I believe you will be residing their long. Not only is the Emperor too cowardly to even write to Aelid himself, but I found the terms of your treaty both laughable and dull. I would swear to you, that upon the return of the Thalmor to Valenwood, I personally shall take your head for this insult.
Best Wishes,
Lord Regant Orthos of Alinor."
Actions:
-Royal Host has reached Stormhold!
-The Arcane Society is receiving both Mercantile and Royal Funding now!
-Letter to the Legate
darkwolf687 said
Indeed, though I doubt the Altmer will accept, they're too stubborn even if it could mean their complete defeat. Thus, I started the terms somewhat unreasonably high, knowing that if the Elves bite and try to negotiate it, anything lighter will be considered better, even if its still unfair. And hey, at least this unfair treaty isn't forcing them to stop worshipping a god, now is it trying to force them into political changeThough I can imagine it will be hard to trumpet Elven Supremacy when you just surrendered and had your forces limited by men xD
Well, I'm assuming you sent the letter to Alinor, as that is the Capital of the Dominion. However, the more well traveled and cultured King Aelid isn't home right now.
Which means that letter will be given to Lord Regant Orthos. Who is not nearly as tolerant of Men as Aelid.
Ilikewherethisisgoing...
The Royal Fleet on the High Seas, near Lilmoth on the Coast of Black Marsh.
16th of Midyear
King Aelid Sillonor, First of his Name, Ruler of the Aldmeri Dominion, Protector of Alinor.
A fleet of thirty ships set sail from Dusk in Alinor, carrying the Battle-Mages and Thalmor bound for Valenwood, as well as the King and his personal entourage. Aelid had reluctantly agreed to allow High Justicar Aldra of the Thalmor into coming with him to the summit, as he could not refuse her knowing it was her Thalmor that would by dying for the Bosmer, not his own Loyalists. While he agreed with Aldra a fair amount, he found she lacked the social tact his people were known for. She was zealous and fiery, but also too blunt and direct for the subtly of a diplomat. He hoped she did not bring ruin to him.
Of the fleet of thirty, ten split off with the Thalmor to go reinforce Valenwood. Aelid wondered if he would ever see any of those men alive. The remaining twenty ships continued the course.
Besides the High Justicar, King Aelid had also seen it fit to take with him Lord Commander Dobin of the Order of the Eight, as well as his Seven other Knight-Brothers. Dobin was fierce and loyal, and he would have no other mer alive watching his back. The Kingsguard were also brought to show off in their own way.
‘Those Argonians were sending you two messages in one, Your Grace. That they could have slit Dobin’s throat while he was sleeping, rather than deliver that message to his chambers. Remember this, and look for the subtle signs in politics.’ Walden had advised him at sunset on the docks two days prior, as the Royal Fleet prepared to leave port.
Taking this advice, Dobin and his Knight-Brothers were adorned in armor of only the highest craftsmanship, with each and every one of The Kingsguard having a specific God of the Eight being the primary adornment on their armor. The Lord Commander’s was displayed with Akatosh, with ruby’s for the eyes of the dragon. Their armor had swirling lines of glittering gold on silver, with epic displays of warriors clashing against demons and other beasts engraved into the artwork on the breastplates. Their cloaks were white with gold trim, and barely breezed past the floor.
The High King of the Dominion wasn’t dumb enough to think that nobody at the meeting would find the chance of all these political leaders in one spot alluring, and as such he would dare any to bypass Dobin and his Order. It was his own silent challenge, and strutting as the Argonians had done. Yet as Aelid thought these many heavy thoughts on the parchment light ship of his people, Dobin approached him. Leaning on the railing as Aelid did, he would speak quietly.
“I would speak with you about your plans during this summit, Your Grace.”
“Then speak, brother.”
“You say you would draw closer relations to the Argonians as the Khajjit have betrayed our Dominion for the assassination of their Mane, an act I believe to have been from other sources than ours. However, they are in a bloody civil war. I have reports the North supports the Empire while the South wishes Independence. I must ask if it would be wise to send supplies and troops into the south to aid them. Even if they don’t re-join our Dominion and keep their Independence after the war, we would still have a powerful ally.”
“A powerful ally? A fractured people is weak, Surely you learned this during the Rebellion on Alinor, Dobin. If the High Justicar heard you attempting to broker Alliances with Cats and Lizards!”
“Aye, Your Grace. But you and I both know that Cats and Lizards die just as well on the battlefield as Mer or Men do.” Dobin had a stout and serious look on his face, as if he was leading up to something more. Aelid was annoyed that his friend wished to talk politics, when the King wished simply to relax and listen to the splash of the waves against their beautiful near silken ships.
“I would prefer the Dunmer and Bosmer rejoin our cause, as they are the purest and most fit for our people. Perhaps the Bretons could join, if they were lucky. But we must make do with what we can, and I understand your point Dobin. Perhaps we could help these Southern Cats, and they could aid us in the future. I shall see about sending an envoy to them after the summit. I doubt rebels like that will be at an official political meeting.”
Dobin waited a moment, and opened his mouth to press the issue, when a sailors voice caught the wind.
“We’ll be laying anchor at Lilmoth within the hour, then riding through all of Black Marsh to Stronghold! Prepare for thick jungle and giant bugs!”
A few sailors laughed, but Dobin remained stone faced, and Aelid found he could not smile at their lightheartedness.
“AND I was hoping that if we unify Elsweyr under a friendly banner, perhaps we could strike Valenwood from two sides, and we could regain the Bosmer? I would confess, I miss my homelands, Sire. I would see the Wood Elves restored to our Dominion.”
“Aye, as would I, Lord Commander.” Aelid said wistfully, dropping a small silver medallion over the edge of the ship, and into the surf below. It was superstitious, but he heard Altmeri Sailors do it once for good luck, and he decided that he would need all the luck he could get.
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Capital of the Aldmeri Dominion
16th of Midyear
Lord Regent of The Fourth Aldmeri Dominon Orthos
Orthos stood proudly on the Capital’s Docks, watching sailors and shipworkers scurry by furiously, crafting and maintaining the remainder of The Royal Fleet which King Aelid had not taken, or the Valenwood Reinforcements. A smaller time merchant approached the Lord Regent timidly, and spoke softly.
“Excuse me, my Lord. But I’m afraid the construction of this many ships may take longer than we had originally hoped."
“How long?” Asked Orthos coldly, not breaking his gaze with the sunset on the sea.
“It may take months! The amount of lumber and spider silk, not even mentioning the enchantments...”
“I trust you will make sure it is completed in an appropriate amount of time. I take it the High King will be gone for some time, and I would surprise him with this Secret Fleet that we may use The Royal Fleet for offensive purposes, thus leaving us ‘vulnerable’ to Naval assault from the Imperials. Yet when they show up…”
“This hidden fleet is to throw them back..?” The small time merchant whispered, his eyes large as moons. Awe slowly spread across his face as he realized The Lord Regent had chosen him to assemble a fleet capable of repelling a invasion. If this merchant failed in his duty, all of the Dominion would pay…
Without another word, he rushed off feverishly, a new haste in his step and urgency in his voice. Orthos was glad the merchant understood the importance of his job. The imperial man, Walden, said that this merchant was too lowly to assemble anything worthwhile. He hoped the man was wrong.
Turning away from the docks, Orthos climbed the glass steps up into the palace, where it shimmered in the rising moonlight. He had heard strange reports from The Arcane Society about some ‘superb plan’ to aid the Dominion with their Sorcery. Yet these were still just rumors and whispers, and Orthos had never been one for the Arcane. He was a practical mer, believing only what his eyes and ears tell him. He had other things to focus on.
Actions
-King Aelid has landed his Fleet in Lilmoth and is currently riding North, towards Stormhold.
-The Lord Regent Orthos has begun construction on a secret fleet of ships.
16th of Midyear
King Aelid Sillonor, First of his Name, Ruler of the Aldmeri Dominion, Protector of Alinor.
A fleet of thirty ships set sail from Dusk in Alinor, carrying the Battle-Mages and Thalmor bound for Valenwood, as well as the King and his personal entourage. Aelid had reluctantly agreed to allow High Justicar Aldra of the Thalmor into coming with him to the summit, as he could not refuse her knowing it was her Thalmor that would by dying for the Bosmer, not his own Loyalists. While he agreed with Aldra a fair amount, he found she lacked the social tact his people were known for. She was zealous and fiery, but also too blunt and direct for the subtly of a diplomat. He hoped she did not bring ruin to him.
Of the fleet of thirty, ten split off with the Thalmor to go reinforce Valenwood. Aelid wondered if he would ever see any of those men alive. The remaining twenty ships continued the course.
Besides the High Justicar, King Aelid had also seen it fit to take with him Lord Commander Dobin of the Order of the Eight, as well as his Seven other Knight-Brothers. Dobin was fierce and loyal, and he would have no other mer alive watching his back. The Kingsguard were also brought to show off in their own way.
‘Those Argonians were sending you two messages in one, Your Grace. That they could have slit Dobin’s throat while he was sleeping, rather than deliver that message to his chambers. Remember this, and look for the subtle signs in politics.’ Walden had advised him at sunset on the docks two days prior, as the Royal Fleet prepared to leave port.
Taking this advice, Dobin and his Knight-Brothers were adorned in armor of only the highest craftsmanship, with each and every one of The Kingsguard having a specific God of the Eight being the primary adornment on their armor. The Lord Commander’s was displayed with Akatosh, with ruby’s for the eyes of the dragon. Their armor had swirling lines of glittering gold on silver, with epic displays of warriors clashing against demons and other beasts engraved into the artwork on the breastplates. Their cloaks were white with gold trim, and barely breezed past the floor.
The High King of the Dominion wasn’t dumb enough to think that nobody at the meeting would find the chance of all these political leaders in one spot alluring, and as such he would dare any to bypass Dobin and his Order. It was his own silent challenge, and strutting as the Argonians had done. Yet as Aelid thought these many heavy thoughts on the parchment light ship of his people, Dobin approached him. Leaning on the railing as Aelid did, he would speak quietly.
“I would speak with you about your plans during this summit, Your Grace.”
“Then speak, brother.”
“You say you would draw closer relations to the Argonians as the Khajjit have betrayed our Dominion for the assassination of their Mane, an act I believe to have been from other sources than ours. However, they are in a bloody civil war. I have reports the North supports the Empire while the South wishes Independence. I must ask if it would be wise to send supplies and troops into the south to aid them. Even if they don’t re-join our Dominion and keep their Independence after the war, we would still have a powerful ally.”
“A powerful ally? A fractured people is weak, Surely you learned this during the Rebellion on Alinor, Dobin. If the High Justicar heard you attempting to broker Alliances with Cats and Lizards!”
“Aye, Your Grace. But you and I both know that Cats and Lizards die just as well on the battlefield as Mer or Men do.” Dobin had a stout and serious look on his face, as if he was leading up to something more. Aelid was annoyed that his friend wished to talk politics, when the King wished simply to relax and listen to the splash of the waves against their beautiful near silken ships.
“I would prefer the Dunmer and Bosmer rejoin our cause, as they are the purest and most fit for our people. Perhaps the Bretons could join, if they were lucky. But we must make do with what we can, and I understand your point Dobin. Perhaps we could help these Southern Cats, and they could aid us in the future. I shall see about sending an envoy to them after the summit. I doubt rebels like that will be at an official political meeting.”
Dobin waited a moment, and opened his mouth to press the issue, when a sailors voice caught the wind.
“We’ll be laying anchor at Lilmoth within the hour, then riding through all of Black Marsh to Stronghold! Prepare for thick jungle and giant bugs!”
A few sailors laughed, but Dobin remained stone faced, and Aelid found he could not smile at their lightheartedness.
“AND I was hoping that if we unify Elsweyr under a friendly banner, perhaps we could strike Valenwood from two sides, and we could regain the Bosmer? I would confess, I miss my homelands, Sire. I would see the Wood Elves restored to our Dominion.”
“Aye, as would I, Lord Commander.” Aelid said wistfully, dropping a small silver medallion over the edge of the ship, and into the surf below. It was superstitious, but he heard Altmeri Sailors do it once for good luck, and he decided that he would need all the luck he could get.
Alinor, Summerset Isles, Capital of the Aldmeri Dominion
16th of Midyear
Lord Regent of The Fourth Aldmeri Dominon Orthos
Orthos stood proudly on the Capital’s Docks, watching sailors and shipworkers scurry by furiously, crafting and maintaining the remainder of The Royal Fleet which King Aelid had not taken, or the Valenwood Reinforcements. A smaller time merchant approached the Lord Regent timidly, and spoke softly.
“Excuse me, my Lord. But I’m afraid the construction of this many ships may take longer than we had originally hoped."
“How long?” Asked Orthos coldly, not breaking his gaze with the sunset on the sea.
“It may take months! The amount of lumber and spider silk, not even mentioning the enchantments...”
“I trust you will make sure it is completed in an appropriate amount of time. I take it the High King will be gone for some time, and I would surprise him with this Secret Fleet that we may use The Royal Fleet for offensive purposes, thus leaving us ‘vulnerable’ to Naval assault from the Imperials. Yet when they show up…”
“This hidden fleet is to throw them back..?” The small time merchant whispered, his eyes large as moons. Awe slowly spread across his face as he realized The Lord Regent had chosen him to assemble a fleet capable of repelling a invasion. If this merchant failed in his duty, all of the Dominion would pay…
Without another word, he rushed off feverishly, a new haste in his step and urgency in his voice. Orthos was glad the merchant understood the importance of his job. The imperial man, Walden, said that this merchant was too lowly to assemble anything worthwhile. He hoped the man was wrong.
Turning away from the docks, Orthos climbed the glass steps up into the palace, where it shimmered in the rising moonlight. He had heard strange reports from The Arcane Society about some ‘superb plan’ to aid the Dominion with their Sorcery. Yet these were still just rumors and whispers, and Orthos had never been one for the Arcane. He was a practical mer, believing only what his eyes and ears tell him. He had other things to focus on.
Actions
-King Aelid has landed his Fleet in Lilmoth and is currently riding North, towards Stormhold.
-The Lord Regent Orthos has begun construction on a secret fleet of ships.
Altmer post incoming.
Yeah, I was still using my old ship numbers for that. Sorry. Is 30 lost better?
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