http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWuNf4gxwuM

Word from the creator,

Well when I first made the poll I didn't expect to get more than 5 votes. Now in just two or so days we have over 20 and even if half of those people drop out we'd still have a decent RP going. I wanted to make this RP because Vvardenfell is a familiar region to most people. Well except me. Yes I know blasphemy I've never played Morrowind. But I've read the lore to great extent over the years so I know pretty much what is going on. My "specialization" would be Dunmer and Morrowind in general I suppose. Even so I hope those of you who have more experience, that you will be patient enough to help me out. The setting of the RP is Vvardenfell just a few days after the assassination of the Emperor and the gates of Oblivion open.

Where do you come in? Well depending on where you want to be but it will be after Vvardenfell feels the "first wave of the invasion" so to speak. The Daedra have come through, and raided several of the villages. The major towns and cities are left intact but going from one settlement to another is dangerous. There will be several factions available with a priority on the major ones. The focus is going to be to get people RPing together. RPing the lone sword for hire or the thief who steals stuff may be fun just for you, but it adds nothing to the RP with everyone else. More on that later.
I've decided to split up the administration aspect of the RP to a few other members. StoryTeller and Solidor will be co moderators.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iemMhhPziwo&feature=related

The last year of the Third era, or would it be the last year of all eras. What tyrant has unleashed such a horde upon Tamriel. What fool signed in blood, our blood, for such a curse. A sea of scarlet flooded into the sky and with every passing hour I hear their foot steps in my mind as they carried away those that survived. To the heavens their bodies were thrown upon their spears so high like the flower buds bleeding crimson pedals. By eve I will blind myself, if this be only a dream it matters not. If this scourge has truly fallen upon Tamriel than I do not wish to see the pain anymore, nor hear the screams in the wind nor taste their blood in the air.

~Amado Calixto, Legionnaire and loving son

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FYHJyd8Cysc&feature=related

With the death of the Emperor and all known heirs the gates of Oblivion have opened throughout Tamriel. Hordes of nightmarish creatures cascade through, slaying all that resist. Those who are too weak to fight, are pulled back into the gates, their flesh fed upon, their minds tormented and their very will ripped from existence. The cruel Dremora nobility that campaigns, has drawn many mortals together in defiance of their hordes, yet some struggle to put behind one another's grievances. Redoran, Hlaalu and Telvanni, the three Great Houses of the Dark Elves that attained holdings on Vvardenfell, who divided in their camps, aspirations and petty squabbles, see no reason to work together. Instead some see this as a chance to attain lost lands, expand one's horizons or simply attain precious artifacts in this influx of otherworldly things. Martial law has been put in place by the Legion which is spread far and thin in this foreign land with strange customs of sanctioned assassination and old rivalries each side wishing to rise from the ashes of destruction once the nightmare is over, if it ever will pass. With Dagoth Ur vanquished, a greater danger has won his seat of succession and with no Nerevarine the outcome appears to be so much more hopeless. With Vvardenfell being crowned in iron and fire common creed, blood bonds and merit will be the virtues that shall hold you and yours together, and whoever shall falter in these will be swept aside by the Daedric hordes.

Faction Information

There will be a handful of factions open. Most of the focus will be on the three Dunmer Houses. I will list all the factions in groupings of priority and I want those that are important to have around 3 or 4 members first before other factions are opened. The RP will die if we have a bunch of people in the mages guild and the ashlanders if we have no members to keep the houses going.

First Group:
Redoran
Hlaalu
Telvanni

Second Group:
Legion
Temple

Third Group:
Ashlanders
Mages Guild
Fighters Guild
Thieves Guild
Cammona Tong
Nordic Raiders
Aundae
Berne
Quarra

Morag Tong
Dark Brotherhood
(Details later on)



The first group are the most important. These are essential to the well being of the RP. Without these factions there really isn't an RP. I want at least 3-4 people per Great House. I want the higher ranking NPCs to be RPed if possible along with your own character. NPC characters do not need character sheets so that's a plus. Each House will have a leader to it which I am raising in status to co-moderator for the RP. So Storyteller for Redoran, Solidor for Hlaalu and myself for Telvanni.

Next is the Legion and Temple. Their main goal is going to be to maintain the law from different angles with different motivation. I'd like at least 5 members between the two factions.
Then the last group, pretty self explanatory. These are fillers. It means they don't need to be in the RP for the story to work. I don't want people flocking to this cause they think they will alone somehow make the story revolve around them self. No I need people in the first five factions.. The rest are just for kicks. The Ashlanders I can imagine doing more or less mercenary duty. The Mages Guild get in some scuffles with the Telvanni, the Fighter's Guild doing more or less what the legion is going and the thieves guild they'd be pretty much useless. The Cammona Tong would be a sub faction of Hlaalu which would sort of fit up in the first group but not. I'll let Storyteller decide how he wants to work with that. The Nordic raiders are, well a Nordic sea faring fleet stuck around Vvardenfell since leaving the island and the surround area is impossible. They'll be mercenaries or just an annoyance.

As for the Morag Tong, they will be hired by Great Houses for their inter House war. Anyone can RP a Morag Tong character. It's not really a faction so to speak. I'll be managing the Morag Tong.
The Dark Brotherhood is the rival assassin group which will work on an illegal basis. They can be contacted by anyone to kill anyone. Solidor will be managing the Dark Brotherhood.


Main Faction Over View

What will you be doing? Well it depends on each faction. I'm going to give a brief over view and then provide a few maps.

House Redoran: The self proclaimed guardians of Morrowind, as such your duty is to protect your holdings and defend against the Daedric Invasion. Though you have the second most potential mortal force on Vvardenfell in what concerns combat, you must understand that brute strength can not save you on all fronts. The Telvanni may use the crisis as an opportunity to expand as surely the Hlaalu will as well. It would be wise to do much the same and with the Legion spread so thin, possibly take back the mines lost to the Hlaalu. You are of House Redoran, proud and defiant to the last, now show all of Vvardenfell the thrust of your blade and the fortitude of your shield, but also the mind behind it all.


House Hlaalu (Led by Solidor): Truly these are dark times as a new enemy approaches Vvardenfell, one which is not interested in deals and merchandise but the destruction of all the riches which your family has built up over the years. As the wily Hlaalu you pay others to place themselves in harm's way. So what if others consider it cowardly? What will they say when they're dead and their assets bought out? Only soon to be dead fools, call sharp wit to be cowardly. To the north the further weakening Redoran, staunch in their stubbornness may be needed to fight the Daedra, but that shouldn't stop one from expanding their markets. In the east, anyone with power in the Telvanni, scramble like petty little bees looking for anything with some sparkle. The disorientation of the of the Daedric invasion have left many lands in the east defenseless.


House Telvanni: Interesting, very interesting indeed. A pity for those caught in the horde's path but none the less the opportunity provided for the few elite in Telvanni society are truly wondrous. And that is what is important most and foremost. The sigil stones provide enchantments which the most powerful in Telvanni would have to struggle to make efficient and yet these Daedra are so generous in providing us transport to their realm so that we may take them. Oh never mind the island being cut off, some havn't even left their towers in hundreds of years let alone the island. What is interesting out there? Only pests and gawkers, nothing more, nothing more. Although there are plenty of vermin on Vvardenfell as well, the brutish Redoran with all their high talk of duty and what not, and the Hlaalu always parched for more money, they think themselves brilliant that they manage to rob fools, so what? The Telvanni do as they please and care for no one's opinion. Did they even ask for one?


Imperial Legion Garrison: The Emperor is dead and an assault on the Empire's most important province has been set! Summon the captains, secure the rations and by Talos keep order amongst these Dark Elves. The Redoran are honorable and respectable, like us live a life for combat. Even so it must be remembered that they alone stood on the border against the Legions when Talos came to subdue this province. Make no mistake, they resist the Empire defiantly. The Hlaalu although helpful are only interested in keeping their business going and are infamous for their under handed methods. Blink and one may miss the cause of much strife. In the east, the Telvanni lands are most dreaded to garrison unless the Telvanni Mage Lords are left alone. Although the de-centralized nature of this House makes it almost impossible that they would move as one against the legion or anyone else, the individual Mage Lords will cast spells at anything in their way without regard. Martial law has been in place and the word of the legion is law!


ALMSIVI Temple (Led by PFA): What great woe has fallen upon us, our Vehk has forsaken us. No, it must be a test to which the believers must show their resolve and piety for our gods. Many have fallen to heresy worshipping Mehrunes Dagon and betraying ALMSIVI. They must be stamped out by persuasion or by arms. Our Ordinators are mighty, their fortitude in the Temple, unmatched though the noble Redoran come close. They have always paid their respect for ALMSIVI and seem to embody the warrior aspect of Ayem herself. If only Hlaalu could be weakened, what opportunistic faithless scum this house has become. Doing harm to our most pious, the Great House Indoril, they will do anything for money. One wonders if they'd even sell their souls to Dagon himself. Pray to Vehk that he shows vengeance upon the faithless. Faithless such as the Telvanni who encroach upon Temple lands even now. Their perverse magic poisons everything it touches. Let them throw themselves upon the spears of the Dremora they so often taunt into service.
=================

And these are the five main factions with a basic outline of goals and attitudes. Use http://images.uesp.net//2/24/MW-map-Great_House_Influence.jpg for information on territory influence. You can also find a more specific map on the net showing all the other settlement as well.

If it is specified here, send your character sheets to the leader of that faction. If unspecified send it to me. Remember I want the first five factions have around 3 or 4 members each before the minor factions become involved. Of course your character can be for example Redoran, but also in the Mages Guild, just not in the leadership position of the latter. The character sheet send will have (Circlet of Fire/Faction/Rank). I do not need to see NPC character sheets. For example if RPing NPC Crassius Curio you would simply post: http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Crassius_Curio instead of writing out a whole sheet.

Character sheet format is as seen below. I will not accept any other variant. So don't ask, don't try it, I don't care, just use the sheet, there's a reason for it.

Faction and Rank:

Name:

Race: Most people will be Dunmer, keep it to the main races.

Gender:

Age: Doesn't have to be specific. Say 20s, or 30s. You don't have to say "90 but looks 20", if they're elves its implied, even so there is an appearance section. Use it.

Birthsign: Use the main ones. Some people don't like them, just pick a random one.

Physical description: Add the height, weight at the very least. You can get pretty flowery with this.

Short History: I don't need your whole life story. Just some experiences, try not to be too clich?.

About the character: This is a new thing I am doing. You basically discuss the character's abilities. Don't want a list of skills. I want you to tell me about the character in a fluid motion. Not "Well he's good with spears, and wears heavy armor and shoots a bow, and is sneaky, hey is that seven skills yet?" You can also add the attitude of the character, some thoughts. It's pretty open just keep it fluid.

Weapons: List only personal weapons that they usually carry on them self. Don't feel like you have to add anything.

Armor/Clothing: Same here. I don't need to know your whole wardrobe.

Misc. Items: For just whatever you might be often carrying with you.

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

Rules

1. Use good grammar and spelling. Type your post up in Word if you don't think you can do it. Everyone makes mistakes so I don't have anything against people who aren't good at the language. English isn't my first language either, but not using precautions such as Word shows you really don't care. Make your posts lengthy and descriptive. Even if it is just a boring conversation, describe, describe, describe!

2. Expect to die! Make more then one character. You may be assassinated, stabbed, beaten, drown, buried alive, mauled by scamps or blown up. Or you might just be unlucky and catch an arrow in your throat. Regardless you aren't invincible and I will call you on it if it happens. I'm not against powerful characters, that isn't an issue, but do it because you know how to do it. Don't RP a master mage if you can't write about it in depth and with skill. "Shoots a major fire ball that kills everyone." Doesn't make you a good mage. It makes you a chump and you will be booted. Like wise don't RP and awesome archer if you don't know some basics for archery. The same goes for melee combat.

3. I don't care of you have romance! Just don't get lewd with it. Yes I don't care if you RP six as long as you are tactful about it. I don't care it doesn't bother me, and if it bothers people they can just skip over it. Just don't obsess over it, make sure it has a point to the storyline and isn't "pointless." I think romance adds a lot to a story just don't act like its the center of the world for the whole RP even if it feels like that for the individual character.

4. When fighting you almost NEVER write the outcome of your opponent. That is character controlling. If you do write the outcome it better be because you discussed it ahead of time with the other person. There is some lenience when a main character is fighting multiple NPCs in which case taking out a few or so is ok. Use your better judgement.

5. Do NOT be all knowing. It's just stupid when you have a guy in the RP that just seems to be able to guess everything. RP your character unknowing of something if he really doesn't know even if it will be the end of them.

6. Stay active! Nothing puts a damper on an RP more then when someone doesn't post anymore especially if they were an important part of the RP. I can understand real life issues and that is not a problem. But don't join and just drop out. That's lame.

7. I don't mind vampires and werewolves, I just don't want it over done.

8. You can have as many characters as you can RP but don't over load yourself. I want the people joining higher ranks to take up an NPC character from Morrowind and do their best with them. I'd try to keep them alive and not do too much of anything dramatic with them unless you plan on sticking with the character well beyond this RP. For example for one of my characters, Aryon is highly involved as such I've "adopted" that NPC for this RP and many more to come along. Doesn't make him exclusive but I'm planning on putting a lot of work into that story line.

9. Don't just post a character sheet. Post RP with it.


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

EDIT SECTION: This will be often re-edited and updated with new current information.


NOTICE: DON'T POST YET.

Faction and Rank: Morag Tong, Knower

Name: Arvas (Crane)

Race: Dunmer

Gender: Male

Age: Mid 30s

Birthsign: The Steed

Physical description: 5'11, Long limbed and agile. Arvas has a narrow but handsome face with slightly pronounced cheek bones and intentful eyes. His brown hair is long and tied in a tail loosely.

Short History: He's a native of Vvardenfell born in Balmora to a mercantile family, although he left the island at 15 becoming a member of the Morag Tong in Mournhold. Although capable at his endevours he none the less prefered to travel far and often when he could making him fairly knowledgeable of the outside. His abilities in the Mournhold Sanctuary had earned him the epithet of "Crane" by the Grandmaster.

About the character: Being tutored in the arts as a young boy, Crane developed a unique method and use of his arcane reserves. Instead of casting spells, he manipulates flexible and string thin ebony wire used to strangle, cut and shred targets in a gruesome manner not expected from his appearance. Aside from that he is a devoted luminator and patron of the Velothian arts painting in the style of the old masters from the school of Necrom and Tear.

Weapons: Ebony wire. Curved steel saber.

Armor/Clothing: He usually wears loose fitting dark blue pants with leather strapping around his ankles. Soft shoes are also worn allowing flexible and quiet movement. He wears leather strapping around his torso for armor and over it a robe with loose sleeves.

Misc. Items: A needle.


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

OOC: I'm going to be using both first and third person writing methods. It's usually said not to mix and match but I couldn't care less. I'll do it for one character and not for others when I feel like it. I'm enjoying it.

IC:

Balmora

Crane

The boat lulled me quietly up the river as I sat leaning against my seat. The canopy over the small boat guarded me from the sun while the old mer gently used his staff to row us along under the bridges of Balmora. The deeper we entered the more and more the voices and smells of my childhood came back to me. Balmora really was a splendid and grand city, the pearl of Morrowind, where the major economic trade in Glass and Ebony happened. Balmora dictated what would happen even in the Imperial City economically. The west had had an obsession with glass and ebony for too long and almost replaced even the Imperial gold and silver currency at one point. But this line of thinking slipped my mind fairly quickly as I reached the small water level stone dock. The slender grey steps carried me up to the street level on the flank of one of the bridges and like the dead rising after having sailed back up the river. Soon the smells and noises that had echoed and stirred in my soul were also captured in my eyes. Soon I was amongst others in the crowded streets. Local Dunmer merchants selling their products from cloths to foods to weapons and books. Members of the Imperial Cult, both local born and foreign preached of our faithlessness and the dangers it has brought upon us. Nobles in silk along with their armored entourage made their way through parting the crowds like sturdy winds through fields of wheat. The closer I came toward High Town the more common the scene of arm escorted nobility was.
I had intended to see my uncle first before heading to the Morag Tong guildhall before getting down to business as to why I was here in the first place. I couldn't help to wonder however about the others from Mournhold who had come to Vvardenfell as well. Vine I knew would be in Vivec but I wasn't sure were Elegant was, few ever really did. Few people realize this but the Morag Tong acts as much more than just 'assassins for hire' as the westerners may think. Even the schismatics have maintained certain elements of our orthodoxy however. The Morag Tong not only acts as a balance of power, a way to maintain order, but as patrons of art and culture in the old Velothian manner. As such a certain familiarity is seen with Great House Dres and the Ashlanders. The Daedric script, the elegantly drawn art work of the Saints, are derived from the old Chimer masters who came with the Prophet Veloth on his great trek.
I was enamored with interest when I knocked upon the door and a lovely young servant girl opened it. She looked timidly up at me with her blush red eyes and short hair that reached just below her jaw line. She bowed gently, her hands on her lap and greeted me, afterward asking if I was looking for the master.

"Yes, is he in? I'm his nephew."

"Not right now Serjo Arvas. You are more than welcome to wait inside until his return. He is seeing a business partner."

"That would be preferred." Entering and noticing her bare feet I began taking my shoes off. Of course she complained saying that it was not needed, that this was as good as my home. Of course it was an old ritual in which the host would try to leave the guest as comfortable as the wish to be, and the guest was fully expected to follow through and remove his shoes. Dunmer culture was a mixture of asserted rules and subtle complexities with a language rich in literature and allusions which made Morrowind one of the most interesting and complicated places in all of Tamriel. As she lead the way my eyes couldn't help but wonder, to notice. Others may claim that their eyes don't appreciate such a beautiful form in fear that they may come off as crude. But the crudeness comes from denying the appreciation of beauty. Why shouldn't I notice her clean heels brushing against the carpet slightly as she walked suggesting she was a girl who took care of herself? Why shouldn't I notice the way her slender legs moved with the flutter of her light linen skirt? Why shouldn't I notice the sway of her hips, the slenderness of her waist, the elegance of her neck, the delicate way she held her hands behind her back? Do you think she doesn't want to be noticed? The perfume she wears is for what else but to attract attention? Who but the most self loathing followers of Vaermina do not wish to be appreciated? It's the intent after all that denotes an action as right or wrong. Stopping suddenly she turned around smiling a true smile, something I had learned to tell in my years of travel, and extended her hand palm up before pointing the way gracefully toward a room I had been in before many times but pretended to have never seen before. After I entered and sat down by the low table surrounded by pillows and a low standing sofa she asked me if I would be staying the night and if she should be making preparations for a room and another place at dinner. "Yes please." My answer was cool to the touch, but not surly at all. With a small bow she left my presence leaving me to my thoughts and the art on the walls.

It was here that I really began having a love for the arts. The pack of silt riders mounted by scarved Dunmer with the ashed out sun in the background gave a surreal folk feeling to the Balmora mansion hearkening back to older times. I remembered laying in this room when I was younger romanticizing adventures in the ashlands, fighting off Dagoth Ur's creatures side by side Saint Nerevar and the Tribunal. But later on I came to appreciate the method in which this art was made. The curves and lines in the flank of the silt rider, the small details of the Dunmer herder being noted, even the minute Daedric letters on his scarf and the partial tattoo showing on his wrist from under his clothes.

Just then I heard a pitter patter of feet but instead of the lovely Dunmer girl, instead it was a Khajiit servant. Many of the slaves had been freed recently but those who had been born into slavery and many who had been captured and sold had no where to go. So instead they were given meager pay to do the same thing that they had done before living within the nobilities' mansions or on their lands. The beast creature had hardly made eye contact when it was called away by another voice toward another room. There was always a stigma of a beast creature out right helping with the food at least toward the last stages of the process and I much doubt my uncle would cease that considering how much he cares for presentation. It wasn't that he was shallow, but he understood the importance of appearances. And sometimes perception was even more important than reality.

Vivec

Andrano; Tholer

The sacred city of Vivec; once, the seat of Poet-Warrior Vehk, one of the Living Gods of the Tribunal. Once, the jewel of Vvardenfell. But things never remain the same and much had changed since those golden years.

In a way, the Temple's seat of power was a reflection of the institution itself. Once, the Temple thrived; there were none who could challenge its supreme power in Morrowind. It served the Three vigorously and without second thoughts, carrying Their word far beyond the capitals of the Great Houses or the holy cities of Vivec and Necrom. Perhaps some muttered against them, such as the 'barbarian' Ashlanders, but there was no power that could challenge them, even House Indoril; particularly House Indoril, for what was it if not a more mundane face of the Temple's? Where the Temple was strong, Indoril was strong; where the Temple was weak, Indoril was weak. In the eyes of the clergy, even the greatest of the Great Houses was there only to provide swords and spears with which to support the Tribunal's will.

But time took its deadly toll on both the Temple and Vivec. The once grand holy city was now little more than a crowded, dirty mess with a glamorous shell of piousness; the once powerful institution - discredited in the eyes of its own, with fractures that might not have seemed so obvious on the outside but ran deep within. With no living gods, it was an institution without a discernible direction and many argued what path it should take. Return to the Ancestor and Good Daedra worship that it had silently scoffed at for many years as archaic and barbarian? Turn to the Nerevarine, swallowing all pride and venerating the immortal slayer of the Tribunal? Or simply lash out with renewed vigour at all those who opposed the old order and helped ruin it now that the Incarnate is gone?

"How long will this continue, Archcanon?"

Tholer Saryoni sighed softly, looking at the militant and rash mer before him. The Patriarch's red eyes were filled with obvious sadness, but they had been so for the past several years. Man, mer or beast, anyone's soul could be seen through their eyes, and the Archcanon's soul was left lost and purposeless as the world around him crumbled violently.

"Your tone, child, is not appropriate." Though Tholer's voice was soft, there was a hint of sternness in it, just a flicker, but enough to be felt. He never succumbed to any emotion fully, at least externally, and for that even his numerous enemies respected him. "I trust there is no need to remind you that, despite your rank within the Orders of the Temple's defenders, you are not above basic manners. You should not let your noble struggle against the Temple's many enemies affect you adversely."

"I did not, Archcanon, come for fatherly advice." Andrano turned around swiftly, knocking his cape back. The Ordinator pacing around the whole room was in sharp contrast to the Archcanon, who sat almost completely still at his desk. "Oh no! When I wish for advice, I turn to those of my Order, who understand the world we live in. Not to those who sit and wait and think and never act, not to those who would weaken what we fight for-"

"Archordinator." Tholer frowned. Realizing he had stepped too far, even for himself, Andrano stopped charging from wall to wall abruptly.

"I apologise, your Reverend Honour." The slight bow did not seem sincere, but what was Saryoni to expect of this mer? While he never in his whole life wished ill for the Temple and deep down respected the Archcanon, Andrano had lost his way long ago. Perhaps he had been lost for just as long as Tholer was; perhaps the Ordinator had wandered out of his path even before that. Both were irreversibly tied to the Temple and both did not take well to its current shape, yet the two mer expressed this in completely different ways.

"However, Archcanon," Andrano continued, sounding slightly calmer, as much as it was possible for someone like him. "There is no denying that the upper ranks of the Temple have not, with all due respect, done much to resolve the current crisis."

"Yes, child, you have informed me of your views on many occasions. But this knot is not a simple one to untie. You have eyes; you can see what goes on around us. You have ears; you can hear what many speak and what is muttered in the shadows when our enemies think we cannot hear them."

"It is precisely those mutters that I am referring to, Archcanon!" The Ordinator turned around again and resumed pacing around the room. "My hands are too tightly tied by the Temple. I have the knowledge and the means to act upon it, yet the clergy denies me and my Ordinators the chance to act and do our duty. We are relegated to dealing with exterior threats - Daedra worshippers! I would ask of you this, Archcanon - are they the greatest threat? Are the Devil's scattered and purposeless remaining minions? Or is it that somewhere, someone is too afraid to act?!"

The frown on Tholer's face grew. "Archordinator, you allow yourself too much. Would you be a second Berel Sala?"

"Do not liken me with that heretic!" Andrano hissed, clearly losing any control he had mustered over his temper.

"I liken those who I perceive to be similar. If you do not wish to be like Sala - do not act like him." Though the Archcanon was still frowning, his voice was calm as ever. Andrano's emotions, however, were only spurred on by Saryoni's unwillingness to show any himself.

"Do I? Or is it that the eyes of the clergy have been clouded by decadence and heretics' lies?!"

"Child-"

"Have my Ordinators persecuted anyone except those the Archcanon willed to be persecuted? Have they not attacked where the Temple decided would be wisest to attack? Killed those who we were told to kill?! Did we not sit and wait as our and our gods' names were slandered by that heretic, that blasphemer, Barelo?! Our honour, Saryoni, has been tainted! Do not blame me, do not tell your clergy to blame us if YOUR inaction forces us to act where you fear to!"

Turning around to face the Archcanon, Andrano knew that he was stepping over every line that separated Tholer and him. Overtaken by the moment, however, he cared little; lines, after all, mattered less and less with every passing day as the strength of the clergy waned within the Temple. An Archordinator could speak to the Archcanon like this with little consequence and this was the sad truth both of them knew all too well.

"The Duke of Ebonheart may have little cause to complain about my Ordinators now, but remember, Archcanon. I am not all-powerful; my hold over them has limits. And I am not one of the Three - my patience is not without limit. If this continues, Saryoni, there will come a day when we have to act. I cannot say when, I cannot say how, but I can say this - your Temple will one day find our limits; the Ordinators are not your warhounds. If you cannot lead, then we shall build a new Temple, one that is fit for this world!"

Without waiting for Saryoni to say anything in response, Andrano rushed out of the Archcanon's office, slamming the door behind him loudly.

"One that is fit for you, you mean..." Tholer leaned forward, muttering to himself sadly.

1 Days Earlier

Just east of Ald-Ruhn

Aryon Llethri, Saryn Androthi, and a small group of Redoran Soldiers.




"Are you sure this will work Aryon?"

"I'm positive, just as long as everyone does their job correctly."

Just after that was said Baren Nerano, a Redoran guard in Aryon's group walks up to the two.

"Serjo Aryon, all of the men are ready to move out on your command"

"Thank you Baren"

"Saryn, take your group south and then east torwards Ghost Gate, up to the top of the Foyada wall just above the entrace to the cave, you know when to strike."

"Yes Serjo"

"Baren, take a small group and head north of the entrance, ill send a a flare into the air when you are to charge in"

"Falam, Avon, Giryn, Drathyn, and Adaves, you're with me"

"Aye, Serjo"

Just before the break of dawn the individual groups of soldiers headed to their positions, Saryn above on the foyada wall, Daren to the north around the end of small cliff. Aryon led his troops straight torwards the entrance of the cave.

"Alright, the entrance to the caverns are just on the other side of this ridge. Now remember we aren't here to go into the cave, we are to draw them out so Saryn and Baren can ambush them, understand?"

"Yes, Serjo"

"Good, now follow my lead, and appear reckless"

Aryon and the five soldiers then dashed over the top of the ridge and into the small clear area in front of the cave mouth, the two guards at the door shouted down the cave opening and then charged, howling and yelling. The were an exiled Ashlander group known for terrorizing the trade caravans headed to Ald-Ruhn. Soon after around 12 more bandits emerged from the depths of the cave, and rushed violently towards the small group of Redoran Soldiers.

The two forces met with a thunderous crash. The Redoran troops held their shields shoulder to shoulder in protection from the crazed Ashlanders. Just then right on Que Saryn and his groups of soldiers appeared on the top of the foyada wall.

"SHIELDS UP!!" roared Aryon.

The group then raised their shields to protect their heads and knealed to the ground. Then a volley of arrows was unleashed unto the group of Ashlanders by Saryn's group, taking most of them to the ground. The few Ashlanders left bolted back into the cave.

"UGH! the N'wahs!, they had to go and run like cowards. Looks like were going into the caverns, ready yourselves!"

Just as Aryon issued this command a small group of bandits came forth from the entrance. In the center of the group was a robed person with an intricate headdress sitting atop her head. Bewildered, Aryon said no command and just stood idly with his shield up. Then it came to him.

"Get back across the ridge! Now!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

But he had hesitated to long, there was a flash of light and the crashing sound of thunder as two of his soldiers fell to the ground singed and sparkling with magick lightning. In desperation Aryon released a sphere of flame straight into the air. Then proceeded to dash torwards the ridge with the remained three soldiers in his party. Another bang and flash of blinding light and Falam fell also. Aryon, Giryn and Adaves slid over the top of the ridge just as debri flew up around them from another attempt at frying them. Aryon then heard war cries and yells coming from the north, he peeked over the ridge just as Baren's forces met the Ashlanders.

"Alright, nows our chance while their distracted, on three....One....Two...Three!"

The three rushed over the peak of the ridge and back onto the small battle field. Aryon ran forward Thrusting his sword into the side of the nearest bandit, there was a shriek from the Ashlander as his body went limp and he fell to the rocky ground. Saryn and his group then rushed down the steep face of the rock wall, slamming into the rear of the small Ashlander. The mage took two more soldiers from Baren's group before Saryn spun around with great force, connecting the edge of his steel blade with the side of the mage's neck. There was a ear splitting crack as the blade struck the spine, spraying blood everywhere. The other bandits were dispatched easily by the superior Redoran troops. Aryon removed his helm and confronted the remaining soldiers.

"Baren how many casualties?"

"Six, Serjo."

"Damn those infernal lunatics, six good Redoran soldiers wasted on these scum"

"How about wounded? How many?"

"Two, Serjo, but they are well enough to travel"

"Good, we set out for Ald-Ruhn immediately, make sleds for the dead, there are to have a proper funeral upon our return."

"Yes, Serjo"

Baren then took two men and set off to collect the little amount of dead branches and vines to construct sleds to carry the fallen back to Ald-Ruhn. Saryn moved over to where Aryon was and began a conversation.

"I am sorry to here about Falam, Aryon. He was a good soldier."

"Aye that he was, Saryn. But mourning the death of a Redoran soldier that fell honorably in battle is not something we should dwell on. It is better to move on and commemorate him for his deeds on the battlefield, then lament his passing. Take these words to heart Saryn, they will aid you one day."

"Aye"

"Now its time to move out, where is ba---"

Aryon was cut off by a thunderous boom and a intense flash of scarlet light, all of the soldiers were knocked off their feet by the force of the explosion. All but Aryon were knocked unconscious and lay around him like rag dolls. He raised his head to notice a blood curdling object, he had only heard about them in lessons from the temple when he was a child. He never imagined the sheer amount of malice that emanated from the object, but there sitting a mere 60 yards away from one, he felt the full force of its power. There standing before Aryon was a dreaded Oblivion Gate, the portal to the realm it lead to shimmered in a blood colored light, the rocks surrounding it were jagged and sharp. Aryon lay there dumbstruck and motionless, gazing up at the massive gate. He the noticed the gate start to grow brighter and emit an even more horrifying noise than it already did. Then there emerged a great beast from the portal, it let out a thunderous roar that would bring chills to even the mightiest of warriors. There in front of the gate was a mighty Daedroth, covered in wicked scales. It's sight turned to Aryon. Struck with fear he dashed for his blade and shield, he grabbed them just in time to roll on his back and block the mighty arm of the Daedroth with his shield. He then rolled to his side trying to avoid another blow. The Daedroth bounded towards him with a deadly intent apparent in his already malevolent glowing eyes. Aryon brought his shield up with one hand in a futile attempt at surviving the inevitable. The Daedroth struck his shield battering it into peices, Aryon lay there, his arm hanging limp and broken at his side. He recited a quick prayer just as the grand beast reared back for the killing blow. Blood and entrails splattered all over aryon. In this moment time slowed and Aryon thought to himself, "Is this how it really ends? Out here in the desolation around Red Mountain."

...

"This ash storm will make things difficult for the caravan to reach Ald'ruhn in time," A dark and sunken voice spoke. Behind it was Llathras Valyon, perched atop a guard tower with a small contingent of Gah-Julan soldiers. "The trip from Maar Gan to Ald'ruhn is dangerous enough as it is, even without the blight. I only hope Indarys Manor was not cloaked by the storm."

Llathras stood upon his bonemold spear, leaning his weight on it as he scanned the horizon. His Banner Shield was strapped around his back, half hidden by the mass amount of regal cloth that draqed from an otherwise simple set of armor for a Redoran soldier. Llathras Valyon was far from an average soldier, however, and the sight of him in his armor was more than enough to convince. He stood silent for a while, until moments later one of his guards spoke up.

"House Brother, is it not late for your duty? Guard tower patrol is something we can take care of, keeping our eyes out for the caravan is a simple task for any of our mighty kin. Your brother is returning from Blacklight in less than a fortnight, do you not wish to be rested upon his arrival?" He guard behind him asked.

It was true, Athynis Valyon, a Kinsman to House Redoran and younger brother to Llathras had served the last five years as a soldier and guard at Blacklight on the Mainland fighting the increasing threat of the barbaric Nords. He was recently recalled to Ald'ruhn to help serve in the bitter times ahead.

"Never mind that. My brother will return soon and I shall be there, but my task wavers incomplete. The supply caravan is hours late. Pack up, we march!"

Llathras spun around and began descending the ladder to ground level. With his men behind him, he lit a torch and began his trek north. They followed the roads toward Maar Gan, passing Indarys Manor as the sun faded, and reaching Maar Gan only a few hours after that. There was no sign of any caravan. House Brother Valyon ordered a return to Ald'ruhn, only this time he kept his eyes open for more than a large caravan and guard.

Passing Indarys Manor again, he noticed a scorch mark on the ground, and what appeared to be a scurry of horse hooves. Ten feet behind the horse tracks, he could see a mark in the ground from a sharp turn from a large wheel. This was the caravan, and they turned west after a violent occurance startled their horses.

Proceeding west around a hill, they found part of the caravan in pieces of wood burnt to an ash. On the other side of the hill, the found the caravan itself, destroyed, its guard massacred. Valyon examined the scene with his men, utterly confused.

"The caravan was burnt by flames. Men and horses show fatal wounds both by blade and claw. This was no bandit raiding party, as the supplies are still on board and we are far too close to Indarys Manor for the roads to be unchecked for bandits." Llathras Valyon stood up, stroking his bears as his men overlooked the situation.

"If not bandits, than who?"

"Perhaps Daedra. The flames that took hold of the caravan must have been large, considering they also scorched the earth beneath it I would assume it was an atronach. Most of these men have large tears where claws ripped their flesh apart. I assume two Daedroth were also here, led by a Dremora with a blade," Llathras said, pointing at a guard who had a stab wound to the heart. "But what bothers me the most is why Daedra would strike here. There are no ruins of importance around here, and this path has been our most profitable trade route for years. I have much to think about, gather what supplies you can and return with me to Ald'ruhn. My father should hear about this."

Removing any personal items such as food and water from their person, the three soldiers loaded up as much as they could and began the long walk back without their own supplies. When they did return, Llathras wasted no time and made way for the Under-Skar. He entered his family's estate, where he was walking in on a glorious ceremony. At the center was an elder man in a scarlett robe and a much younger man in a blue robe. It was good to see his brother again.

"Brother Llathras! Where have you been?" Athynis shouted with lit eyes when he saw his elder brother enter the estate.

"He has not stopped asking where were this whole time, Llathras, and I've had no answer..." Spoke Redas Valyon, newest councilman to House Redoran and father to Llathras Valyon.

"Forgive me father, forgive me brother, I was manning the northern post at midday when the caravan we awaited did not arrive. After many hours we began search. What I found was quite troubling." Said Llathras.

"Nevermind that for now. We have to welcome our own blood back to Vvardenfell. Our family is now complete again. Tell me, Athynis, diagnose the Nordic threat on the Mainland." Said Redas.

"It is less than we make of it. They are mighty and vast, but lack stratey and discipline. Great House Redoran wll prevail." Said Athynis.

"Very well. You have made your family proud, and have done House Redoran grea honor in service. I will push for an advancement the next sitting the Council shares. Now, let us continue the ceremony," Redas reached his hand out, taking Athynis and leading him out to a great reception.

The ceremony was grand. The whole family of Valyon, which was quite large, and all their vassals and friends were present. Llathras found himself setting down as well and enjoying spirits, which seldomly happened. After the ceremony began to die down, Redas took his eldest son aside.

"You spoke of troublesome news earlier. What has come to pass?" Redas spoke with a soft voice, clear concern in his eyes.

"Yes," Llathras cleared his throat, "I was assigned to submit a supply caravan into Ald'ruhn from Maar Gan. It never arrived, and when we found it, we found a destroyed caravan and a slaughtered guard."

"Bandits?"

"No. Daedra.

"Hmm," Redas mumbled, his heart clearly weightened by this news, "If not the blight, then the damned Daedra. This makes no sense. The Daedra do not attack. They sit in ruins guarding secrets untouched for years, secrets that few even know enough to care about. I will bring this up with the other Councilmen. If there is a rogue conjurer on the road between the two grandest Redoran cities, then we will need to take care of him. If it is something else... then we will need much more planning."

"Much more?"

"I have no reason to believe it, but I've never seen anything like this. If the Daedra are getting aggresive, than something is driving them. They do not think enough to invade House Redoran territory, but if there were Dremora, then perhaps it is by the will of Mehrunes Dagon that this has occured. Worry not for now, my son, it has been years since the last and I doubt a Daedric Invasion will occur in Vvardenfell."

"Very well, father," Llathras clinched his fist and placed his other hand over it, bowing his head in a salute. With that, he retired for a night. His mind held onto the words "Daedric Invasion" for the whole night, and he could not fall asleep.

Bralas Rathyron, Vivec Temple
---


The loud noises of a vile exchange of heated words could be heard through the door of the Archanon's office. Though slightly muffled, each syllable could be made out to at least some degree. One could tell that the conversation inside fluctuated between two people, as the raised voice could be heard incessantly, stopping only for short moments where silence came due to the other participant's quiet voice. Bralas knew exactly who was inside. One, of course, was the Temple Archanon, Tholer Saryoni. After all, it was his office, and no one was allowed in without his permission. The other was the hot blooded young head of the ordinators, Andrano Arendus. For some things, Bralas could respect Andrano, but in most aspects, he was not fond of the man.

Bralas stood right outside the office, next to the closed door. He knew it was rude to listen in on others, but he wasn't going to let anyone off who decided to disturb others in a place of the Gods' favor, much less to scream in the face of it's leader. He stood in wait away from the wall, his posture clean and straight. His billowing robes hung lightly around his body, the ends coming to rest on the floor. Bralas drew and released breath calmly, while he may have been angered by the situation at hand, it did not call for a recreation of the man inside's emotions within himself.

The walls shuddered as the creak of an opening door was quickly silenced by it slamming back in the other direction. A red haired dunmer stormed by, clad in Indoril armor and a fine cloak to match. Bralas stepped forward briskly. "You've got a hell of a lot of gall raising your voice to the Archanon like that." His voice was low, but booming at the same time. The cold glow of his fiery red eyes burned into Andrano's skull, and the old dunmer's fists were clenched within his gauntlets. He stepped closer slowly and pulled the mohawk-style helm from his face.

"Furthermore, I have questions about where your loyalties lie. The Temple and our house go hand in hand, and your disrespect for one means the same for the other." Thin wisps of pale white hair fell about the sides of Bralas' head as he removed the helm. "Not only that, but actions such as those you have just made reflect badly on the Great House Indoril, which does not make my orders any easier to carry out." His brow was heavily furrowed, and the wrinkles of his face tightened toward his eyes in a fierce glare. "These are hard times for the Dunmer lands, and for Nerevar's house, and conflict with those who support us will only make things harder." Bralas' fist began to raise slightly from beside him, though hardly enough to notice. "Your disregard for the needs of anyone other than yourself will absolutely not be tolerated. Understood?"

1 Day Earlier

Just East of Ald-Ruhn

Aryon Llethri, Saryn Androthi, and a small contingent of Redoran soldiers.



After a moment Aryon opened his eyes to see that time hadn't slowed, but actual seconds had gone by. Bewildered Aryon felt his stomach knowing for certain that the beast had torn his innards from his body. There in fact were entrails draqed across his body, but his armor was not torn asunder. Aryon turned his head to his side and saw the monstrous carcass of the Daedroth laying limp and lifeless, it's torso lacerated. Aryon was then startled as something lifted his head, he abruptly turned his gaze upward. Saryn was kneeling next to him.

"Come on! Get up Aryon, more will come if we don't hurry!"

"Wha-what happened, I thought I was dead?" mumbled Aryon.

"No, your not dead, but we will be if we don't get away from this place, floods of Daedra will come forth from that infernal gate any moment now, I'll tell you what happened when we get back to Ald-Ruhn. Now come on lets go!?"

"No, I'm not leaving the rest of them behind, we have to get them out of here!"

"We can't afford to waste time Aryon! Daedra will be upon us any moment now!"

"Saryn get these soldiers out of here, thats an order."

Saryn looked at Aryon for a moment, then went over and tried wakening what was left of their small force while Aryon eased himself off the ground and leaned against a rock. He then ripped a large piece of cloth from his shirt and made a sling for his mangled arm. Adaves was the first to come through, then they managed to awake three more soldiers along with Baren. The others couldn't be roused, so they dragged them into the caves entrance and put what provisions they had left next to them, they then sealed the door. When this was done Aryon, Saryn and the remaining soldiers retreated across the ridge and down into the gully.

"Is everyone still in possession of their Almsivi intervention scrolls?"

The soldiers began searching their person for the scrolls that the temple had issued them in case of emergency. One by one they began puling out the scrolls and untying the leather strip that kept them bound.

"We do this one at a time, Sevilo you are to go first, Ralam you are to go after Sevilo, then Mathis shall go, Adaves you are after him, then Baren, then Saryn, I will go last."

Sevilo then started to run his hand over the runes on the paper, they began to glow with a fierce yellow light, then with a brilliant fradience of light Sevilo vanished. Ralam then repeated this process, then Mathis, and so on. Aryon imitated the same ritual and with a flash of light and stomach churning jolt of force he found himself on the ground in front of the temple in Ald-Ruhn, there was already a group of guards surrounding the other soldiers and keeping curious and shocked civilians back. Aryon looked through the crowd to see the Guard Captain rushing towards them. When he arrived he walked straight to Aryon and in a surprised and agitated tone confronted him.

"What in Vivec's name happened to you! Your a disaster, and where's the rest of your contingent?!"

"Dead or unconssscciioos--" replied Aryon.

Suddenly Aryon began to feel light headed, he had not noticed before because of the large amount of adrenaline rushing through his body, but he was losing blood through the opening in his arm where his shattered bone protruded. Before he could say another word his vision started to fade and he collapsed on the ground in front of the temple.


Present day

Aryon awoke in his bed inside his Uncle's manor. His Uncle's personal healer was sitting at the table crushing substances with a mortar and pestle. She was an older woman, with wiry white hair and deep wrinkles that ran like valleys across her face. She was a good friend of the Llethri's and had lived in manor for as long as Aryon could remember. When Aryon tried to get up she quickly responded.

"Stay, do not get up, you are not fully healed yet."

"What happened to me? Last thing that i can recall was talking to the Guard commander."replied Aryon.

"You have lost a good amount of blood Aryon, you lost consciousness whilst talking to the Captain. They carried you back here to be tended to. Your bones and flesh have been mended with magic, but you are still weak. I am preparing a mixture that should aid in your recovery, but you still require rest."

"Thank you Darvela."

"No thanks are necessary Aryon"

Just then there was a loud knock on the door, Darvela rose from her chair and shuffled towards the door. When she opened it there stood the Guard Captain and Aryon's Uncle. They proceeded to walk over to Aryon as he painfully managed to sit up in his bed.

"How are you faring Aryon?" asked his Uncle.

"Better"

"That is good, the Guard Captain wanted to have a word with you."

"Aye, I presumed you would." said Aryon turning his head towards the Captain.

"I have already had long discussions with each individual of your contingent, some of the things they have shared with me are quite disturbing. I wanted to hear what you have to say on the subject."

Aryon then relayed the events of the raid on the caverns, all the way up to when the oblivion gate opened, then the captain interrupted.

"This is as I have feared, with the testimony of your contingent and what was reported by House Brother Valyon, there is no doubt that the Daedra have launched an offensive."

"When did House Brother Valyon return?"

"A few hours before you and your contingent arrived"

"What did he find?"

"A trading caravan was assaulted by Daedra near Bal Isra, none survived."

"That is grim news captain."

"Yes, that it is, There is also something else I came to inform you of. With this new threat we are forced to guard our roads heavily, House Brother Rilvayn of Gnisis has volunteered to head the patrol forces. With his absence from Gnisis the council has chosen you to head the forces there, you are also to be promoted to House Brother. Congratulations Aryon, although this is dark time for words such as those. You are to leave for Gnisis as soon as you are able and well, understood."

"Yes, Serjo."

"Good, now rest, you are in need of it."

"I have a few more questions."

"Yes?"

"What became of the troops that we sealed in the cave? Have you sent a force to retrieve them?"

"Yes, Saryn and 25 soldiers set out while you were unconscious. A small group of Buoyant Armigers was also deployed from Ghost Gate to assist in holding off any Daedra during the operation."

"What about the gate?"

"As far as we can discern it is still active, Saryn had strict orders not to enter the gate."

"Let us hope he abides by those orders. I have one last thing to ask of you, please inform House Brother Valyon that I would like a word with him if he has the time."

"I shall inform him."

"Thank you Captain."

"I must leave now, I have important duties to attend to."

"Aye."

The captain then turned and walked towards the door. As he was leaving Darvela brought Aryon the mixture she had been preparing. He took the small cup from her and swallowed the bitter liquid.

"You should be better by tomorrow" said Darvela

Aryon then laid back down and began to rest as Darvela and his uncle left the room.

Present Day

Valyon Estate, Under-Skar

Llathras mumbled and turned all night. He did not rest easy. Few times in the night he violently shook awake, his hand holding the dagger beneath his pillow. This continued for the entirety of twighlight hours, until at one moment Llathras sat up, awoken by nightmares, screaming. He found a soft hand reach up to his shoulders, calming him down and inviting him back to sleep.

"My love, wha is it that keeps you from sleep?" Asked Lady Arlis, Llathras Valyon's wife.

"I... I am afraid," Llathras paused, unsure of what to say, "I see a crimson sky in my dreams, clouds ash black. I fought in the Red Mountain, battled an Ash Vampire and saw the mountain's skies restored, but not even the blight can compare to this. I can see a tower of a beast standing over me, laughing at my attempt to fight off his minions. Something is not right."

"You are home. Your brother has just returned from the Mainland. Your family is well and you are safe. We all are safe, please go to sleep."

Llathras, refusing to answer the pleads of his wife, stood up and sat down at his desk in the next room. He sat there impatiently, holding onto his sword, sheathing and unsheating it while looking blankly ahead, and waited for the sun to rise.

Nothing came to pass until eventually Llathras' focus was drawn by a familiar, and warm, voice.

"Brother," Said Athynis.

"Ah, Athynis!" Llathras took a while to regain his posture, but when he did, it seemed as the night before was a distant memory, "I did not get to speak to you enough yesterday. It warms my heart to see you are well, and it is good to have you back."

"And it is good to be back. BuI worry about you. Arlis said you did not sleep the night."

"Athynis, before I returned I made a troubling discovery. The Daedra attackedus along a trade route wth nothing to provoke them. I do not know what to think of it."

Athynis' eyes shot up at his brother. He took a second to ponder, then spoke.

"Perhaps... well, I heard of a unit of soldiers that had gone missing last night. Yes, it was just as my ceremony had come to an end, shortly after you returned. The leader is back in Ald'ruhn, but most of his men are dead. Perhaps he has something to say."

With that, Llathras and Athynis Valyon made way to Llethri manor. There, after a short greeting with the cuncilman who was a friend of their father's, they found his nephew, who was busy talking to a woman. After she left, the Valyon brothers entered.

"Your uncle says congradulations are in order, House Brother Aryon Llethri," Said Llathras, "You and I are one in the same now."

Llathras opened a canteen he had filled with cool water from his grotto, and held it forward for the slightly wounded soldier.

"I understand you were attacked, and your party was killed. I have heard many stories and none of them tie together very well, perhaps that is just due to your family's concern. One man, however, I believe to be your most trusted soldier or bodyguard, mentioned a Daedroth... and a giant gate of flames. I need to know, is this true? Did a portal to Oblivion itself open before you, or have we all just gone crazy?"

Vivec, High Fane

Andrano

The Ordinator listened impatiently to the veiled threats of the older Dunmer before him. When the Indoril ambassador stepped in his way, Andrano briefly contemplated simply shoving him aside; however, even in his anger he had limits. This was still the High Fane and he wouldn't disturb the prayers of others by causing a scene, something that would've no doubt followed such a course of action. This did not, however, mean that he had to like what he heard from Bralas or respond with respect; if he couldn't control himself before the Archcanon, the heated Ordinator certainly wasn't going to attempt to do so before this mer for whom he had little respect.

"Ambassador, you forget your place. Perhaps your age might absolve you of some guilt, but you are no longer in the Mainland. I recommend you remember that and forget that trait most common to members of your House." Andrano frowned. Unlike in Saryoni's office, his voice wasn't raised anymore; he was nearly whispering, in fact. The mer's eyes, however, made his emotions quite clear even without yelling, displaying clearly that he wasn't in the mood to be chastised by Bralas.

Casting a brief glance around to see if he had disturbed no one, the Ordinator continued after this small pause, his voice still quiet, though anger was seeping through the quietness.

"This is not the Mainland, this is Vvardenfell; and this is not your House, this is the Temple. And I would remind you, ambassador, that you have no standing in the Temple and our internal matters should not concern you or the Indoril Council too much. You speak the truth in one regard - the times are hard, just as they are sad. Do not think me deaf; I've heard much of how Indoril wishes to dabble in our affairs. I do not know what goes on inside the House. Perhaps I was once an Indoril, but no longer - we Ordinators and you Indoril are two breeds apart."

"However, when I was still member of House Indoril, it was customary to respect the Temple. You speak of need of others and disloyalty. Perhaps in your mind you liken me to Berel Sala, ambassador? If so, then you are blind, just as your House is. What do you, or your House, know of need and loyalty? Where were the Indoril after the Armistice was signed and the outlanders defiled our land with their heresies? What was done to stop the traitor Houses from stealing land from your own and from the Temple? Why was it that whenever I fought the enemies of the Temple, only Ordinators and Armigers fought alongside? Do not attempt to claim the deeds done by Ordinator arms and valour as those of your House. Our armour might bear the name Indoril, but it is the name of Saint Nerevar first and your House second, and it is not your warriors that make this armour famous, oh no."

"I devoted all my life to the Tribunal and the Temple. House Indoril seems to have found a different devotion - building sand castles and worshipping illusions. I respect your advanced age, ambassador, but I do not respect slander, especially by those who know little of what the Ordinators - whether before, during or after my time - have done for the good of the Temple. And we will not sit idly by while this same Temple we helped build crumbles around us because of lies and inaction. Do not take the side of heretics and blasphemers, that is the warning I give you out of what little kinship remains between me and members of House Indoril."

Llethri Manor, Ald-Ruhn

Aryon Llethri

"Thank you Llathras."

Aryon reached out and took the canteen, taking a long refreshing draft.

"It seems as you have heard word of our unfortunate endeavor, however words can be twisted by tongues as they pass from mouth to mouth. I will relay to you the untwisted version."

Aryon handed the canteen back to Llathras and then offered him a seat at his table.

"It seemed a simple task, go in clear out the bandits and return back to Ald-Ruhn. However it became complicated even before the gate had opened. You see our information from the scouts wasn't complete, they did not tell us that there was a mage among their ranks, a good mage at that. It seemed as though we had won when all of a sudden out came a robed person blasting away my soldiers with magical lightning. Three out of my group alone were taken within the first minute. Eventually we managed to eliminate the bandits but with large casualties. We were just getting ready to depart when I sent a group of soldiers off to gather materials to make sleds to carry the dead. A few minutes after they had left there was an ear splitting explosion of heat and light, I was standing farthest from it and was only knocked to the ground and dazed. The others however were unconscious or dead, I wont know until Saryn returns. When I got back up on my feet there was an immense object of rock and flame in the clearing. It was the most dreadful thing I have ever seen. Then the Daedroth appeared from it, the vile beast saw me and began attacking. I managed to reach my shield in time to block an attack and roll out of the way. Unfortunately the next time I attempted to stay the beasts swing I had only one arm backing my shield. When he connected the shield was shattered as well as the bones in my arm. At this point I thought I was going to die. But alas Saryn had gained consciousness and slew the beast before it could take the final blow. After that we tried to waken the soldiers that had been knocked unconscious by the blast. Only a few woke, the rest we sealed in a cave with food so they would remain protected from the gate. After that was done we used scrolls of Almsivi intervention to transport us back to the temple here in Ald-Ruhn, from what I'm told I lost consciousness on the ground in front of the temple and then was brought here. Saryn is currently taking a party of soldiers to rescue the ones still in the cave, and also to gather the bodies of the dead for funerals. Hopefully he is faring well."

Bralas Rathyron, Vivec Temple

---

Bralas listened to the putrid words that spewed from the mouth of Andrano. Each was like the cut of a razor to everything he believed in, and the boiling anger in his eyes showed a feeling of intense rage.. His face was hard as stone, his wrinkles were deep cracks. If he were a younger man, or any more rash, he likely wouldn't be able to quell the urge to attack Andrano on the spot. But he was old, seasoned, and he knew this was not the time or place for battle or the exchange of heated words. After all, if he were to be the one to initiate any sort of quarrel, physical or otherwise, it would be a contradiction of everything he had previously said.

He remembered a time, when he was young, that none would dare stray from the teachings of the Temple, and when man and mer were loyal to their lords and their houses, and sadly he began to realize that these times had gone. Those with age, those with experience, those with respect had come and passed, and hot-blooded young mer had taken their place. If anyone was a spectacle of this, it was Andrano. As far as Bralas could tell, he had no loyalty to anyone at all, and no respect for anyone who was deserving of it.

Breathing deeply to keep his calm, Bralas placed his shield covered hand on the hilt of his blade that was masked underneath his flowing robes and stared deeply at Andrano. His voice came low, almost a whisper, though his discontent could easily be sensed, "You claim to speak in the name of Nerevar, but you fail to see how he would judge you. Heed my words young one, you need their guidance." And with those words, he placed the helm back upon his head, and stormed away from the Ordinator.

Tevyn, Ald-Ruhn

Releasing a long, drawn out sigh, Tevyn finally forced himself to take himself away from his readings for the day. Placing a blank sheet of parchment between the pages of the thick text, he closed the slightly tattered tome with a dull thud. He sighed again, quieter this time and stood from the chair and walked out of his study whilst extinguishing the many candles along the way with a pinch of two wet fingers. He was resigned to stop reading the fantastic text about the Battle of Red Mountain but his House duties called and his love of knowledge was surpassed only by his feeling of honor to the Great House of Redoran.

He removed his simple trousers and shirt and grabbed the deep red robes from the drawer in his room before throwing them over his head. He took a moment to adjust the long sleeves and he paused on his way out only to grab a short steel dirk from the desk next to the door. He placed this in a small, improvised sheath on the inner part of his robes and nodded in satisfaction at the feel of cold steel resting against his back. Never too careful on Vvardenfell, especially now.

He walked from his dwelling somewhat lazily, heading towards where to hoped to find Ratharys. Several people had already been informing Tevyn about a returned party of warriors that had run afoul of Daedra. The reports were hazy but Tevyn didn't rule them out as impossible. Not since Vvardenfell was surrounded. Not that it truly affected him in any way. He never had any intentions of leaving the island, at least for a while so the way he saw it, he was just filling out his duties here. He knew it would have a worse effect on others though.

The humble House Father made his way further into the Under-Skar where he hoped to find the man who would give him some answers. If one thing bothered him about being a humble member of the House, it was that people often overlooked him when it came to important information. For a House Father, he always seemed to be the last to know about major events and their details when it came to the House "going-ons". He supposed it was his own fault however and he mentally shrugged to himself and approached a junior member of the House who acknowledged him with a small bow.

"Go and find Ratharys lad and tell him I'm looking for him. There's something in it for you once you get back." he said with a wink. The younger man ran off but Tevyn, always the difficult one, did not remain in place to await his return. Instead he continued to wander around, looking for the Dunmer he wanted to see.


OOC: Thats you Wooly. Either find me or have my slave boy there find you and get yer ass moving so I can come find you and engage in Roleplaying interaction.

Balmora

Crane

It was that state of being, like a ghost, not yet asleep but not awake either. My pupils rolled sleepily from edge to edge of the crescents that were my eyes until just then when I was brought to full attention by the arrival of my uncle. I had not seen him in some time and the slight of his gentle but worried smile brought more concern to me than pleasure. The court yard of my soul trembled with his unspoken worries. He was the brother of my deceased mother, may her burial soil lay lightly on her grave, and the partial reason I was where I was. As such it was a duty and obligation of the most yearner asking to be of service and resolve whatever issue it was that plagued my uncle.

"The dogs that only whimpered by my table, now bark and ask to sit in my place. Together like a pack they have conspired and have given me an alternative to my refusal to comply."

"Have not any worries Uncle, sit and enjoy your meal with your family and by tonight when you take your last bite, enjoy your drink, fully knowing that your worries have left you."

I was elated to see his uncharacteristically anxious face turn to relief. Standing up I grabbed his hand in both of mine and kissed it before walking back down the hall to the entrance, but not before my eye dragged lazily across the sight of the pretty servant girl once more.


OOC: I'll post more stuff tonight or tomorrow. PFA let me know when you can receive the arrival of a messenger.

Under-Skar, Llethri Manor

Llathras and Athynis Valyon

"This is very interesting, albeit grave news, House Brother."

Llathras spoke with a hint of curiosity, yet a heavy and dull voice. He reached forward and retrieved his borrowed canteen, placing it along a sash tied to his waist. He scanned over his fellow Redoran kin, who seemed to be well considering the events he just faced.

"This has to be the reasoning behind the recent caravan attack. The paths we took merge between Ald'ruhn and Bal Isra, I assume the Daedra that found our caravan were scanning our lands for a proper landing point. Perhaps for invasion."

He paused. Nothing that was happening made any sense. The Daedra were buried in ancient ruins, few were within the mortal realm. To run into one was an unpleasant occurance, but for a portal to open that connected the realm of Mundus to the hellish realm of Oblivion in which many Daedra can swarm from was an impending doom.

"Are you well enough for travel? I must find this gate. Your lieutenant seems to be a mighty man if he fell a Daedroth with one blow. If a battle comes, we can take care of it, but I need a guide."

Vivec, High Fane Canol

Ashu swam through the Vivec canol towards the Temple Canton. He had no money for a gondola, and he had no desire to walk through the city. Even before Vivec City had gone into decline, Ashu was never comfortable with navigating cities, even ones as bizarre as this one. He was more comfortable braving waters filled with Dreughs and Slaughterfish than attempting to walk through a large city. As the canton approached, he stopped, taking a moment to figure out how to get up onto the canton. The sewers could provide an entry point, but Ashu did not want to smell of sewage when presenting himself to the head of the Order of War.

It seemed like the impossible had occurred. The Tribunal and the Nerevarine were gone. Daedra were pouring through gateways from Oblivion and without Almsivi, without the Hortator, and without any sense of unity among the Dunmer, things seemsed hopeless. Why are they invading? Do they seek to make us worship them as we once did? Ashu shuddered at the thought of worshiping any of the Four Corners. He had seen the depravities of the Daedra and the cultists that worshiped them. He had confidence in his skills to hide in Vvardenfell, but he had no desire to live his life in hiding from Daedra. Little of Ashu's life was in black and white, but in this case, the right course of action was obvious; he had to ally with the Temple.

He knew of the Ordinators' depravities, hunting Ashlanders and Dissident Priests. He heard of the Tribunal's crimes and he heard of the Temple's suppression of it. But for all its faults, the Temple had always been there for him. When he staggered into a city, ill with Blight, the Temple cured him even when he could not pay. When he was mocked and belittled for his lack of wealth and class, the Temple treated him like any other Dunmer. And when it came to fighting the Daedra, none in Morrowind had more experience than the Tribunal Temple. If anyone knew how to fend off the invaders, it would be the Temple. But if the Temple was weaker than it had ever been, it needed all the help it could get. Perhaps Ashu's skills and knowledge could help to curb its demise. Perhaps he could ultimately affect little of the outcome. It didn't matter though, as it wasn't a matter of whether or not he could make a difference, but that doing his best to do so was the "right" thing to do, for the Temple, for Morrowind, for the Dunmer altogether.

Ashu reached out from the water, reaching onto the gondola dock. With a great exertion, he pulled himself onto the dock, dripping with canol water. Unfazed by this, he walked up the ramp past the gondolier (who appeared somewhat surprised to see someone emerge from the canol). He removed his soaked helmet and took a look at the building; the High Fane. Ashu had never been inside Vivec City before, but he knew that this, the High Fane was the most important place in they city. And it was here he was told to report to. Still, it was one thing to impress the Armigers and another to impress the Ordinators. Hopefully the sealed letter of recommendation the Armigers gave him would help. Provided the seal was waterproof.

The waterlogged Dunmer approached an Ordinator. "Pardon me, sera, but I was told to go to the head of the Order of War. Where might I find him?"

The Ordinator hesitated to speak, probably in disbelief at seeing a soaked Dunmer in weathered leather armor. After a moment, he spoke. "He should be in the High Fane at the moment. Head up the stairs and into the east-most door." Ashu nodded and headed towards up the stairs .

It seemed odd that after such a short time actually serving the Temple he would be sent to the head of the Order of War. Up until now, all he had done for the Temple had been scouting and mapping Oblivion gates and Daedra activity north of Molag Mar. Perhaps he had done all he could do for the Armigers of Molag Mar. Or perhaps they felt he would be more useful in the service of the Ordinators. Whatever the case, it was intimidating to have to approach someone of such renown and prestige, especially considering he was but a lowly scout.

Ashu opened the door and walked into the High Fane. The first thing he saw was an Ordinator, seemingly an important one, speaking with what appeared to be a diplomat. From the conversation, he was pretty serious about the Temple; the archetypical Ordinator. Ashu waited for the mer to stop speaking, before he himself nervously spoke up.

"Pardon me, sera, but I need to see the head of the Order of War. The Armiger commander of Molag Mar instructed that I report to him, and that I give him this letter of recommendation." He could only hope that his soaking, weathered armor wouldn't make too poor of an impression on this obviously very serious mer.

OOC: As for the letter, it basically says that Ashu is an expert scout and would be excellent for purposes of reconnaissance and tracking. Feel free to make up the details, PFA.

Edit: Added physical details.

Ald-Ruhn, Llethri Manor

Aryon Llethri


"Saryn may be a stout warrior but he had surprise on his side in this event, I fear that my friend would not be as successful had the Daedroth know he was coming, but never the less at the time being I cannot accompany you to the gate. I have been transferred to Gnisis to head the forces there, and have been instructed to leave within the next day. However if the Archmaster were to approve my staying in Ald-Ruhn for a few days longer, I would accompany you on this endeavor."

Vivec City


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=--Zztr6nhTE

A city named for a living god. It's magnificence and splendor should be of no surprise. The largest city in Vvardenfell, the jewel of the east, an urban paradise of commerce, intellectual, and cultural richness, it was, it is, and ever shall be, Vivec. Serosi dragged his gloved hand on an engraving pressed to the wall as he stopped to behold it. It was Vivec sitting in mid air, his hand hovering over a sword that was untouched. It wasn't long before he continued to walk with the flow of the crowd. Maybe it was his mood but there was something in the air, something haunting but peacefully so. Turning in on one of the roads he had reached his destination. It was one of his favorite places to visit when he came to Vvardenfell, a place which served information, a place to talk of high grade crafts and to tell crude jokes, and best of all it was all done while being served the finest teas and coffee. As Serosi entered the mood changed from the somber grandiose mood of the outside and instead seemed more casual. Many of the city's finest illuminators and calligraphy writers would come here after work to complain of their masters, to discuss methods of art, the current situation regarding the Temple and most new of all, the horizon of fire at the ends of the waters seen from all coasts of the island. The increase of Daedric activity was like wise worrisome but to the people of Vvardenfell, who still had the threat of Dagoth Ur fresh in their memory, such things did not seem as odd as it may seem to others. Disappointing, none the less, surprising, not at all.

Serosi found his old friend, Aryon Telvanni, sitting at one of the tables. His eyes followed him as he sat down and spoke only at that moment.

"How have you been?"

"I've been well Serjo. Our ship almost burned down when we were coming toward Vvardenfell. Do you know anything of of these recent events?"

"Sabazios may know more, he's around the city somewhere. What concerns me more however lays in the Ashlands."

Sabazios was a bound Dremora who had no interest in returning to the ranks of Dagon's minions. The Dremora themselves also did not always serve Mehrunes Dagon. Some say they served Boethiah before, others say they had no master. Whatever the case, Dremora seemed to be fond of Serosi's nature and in large part conversed with him respectfully. Sabazios had told Serosi this was due to his father, which he had never known.

"I will speak with him then. What concerns you in the Ashlands?"

"Perhaps it is of no worry, but the tribes have formed some sort of united pact under a new prophet, from the Urshilaku."

"Even the Erabenimsun have joined?" A slow nod confirmed that it was so. One had to wonder what sort of ploy this was or if it was authentic. Nerevar's incarnation was said to have left these lands and sailed east leaving the prophecy unfulfilled. Was this to be a coninuation or simply the Ashlanders conspiring together to form some sort of power within Vvardenfell. No doubt Aryon would have gotten his information from the Zainab as they had the best relationship with the Telvanni. It would be interesting to note how the Temple would react.


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

Vivec
The High Fane

The tall gaunt looking Ashlander flanked on each side by a guard took his steps up the High Fane thoughtfully. He wore a crimson robe, black Daedric writing running down the elegant material quoting verses from Veloth's sayings. His guards were just as armored and armed as the sturdiest House noble in fine esquisite bonemold. These weren't the half naked scurrying ashlanders that were popular in the minds of the city dwelling Dunmer. Ornate cloaks surrounded the armored guards carrying the words of Veloth and each one carried the study long falx, an ancient blade still used among the Ashlanders and Great House Dres. Soon they hoped to enter the presence of the Patriarch and to have an audience with him.

OOC: Crappy short post but ill let you post us entering and describing the surroundings. Sorry kind of rushed.

Cassius Curio
Road to Ebonheart

Wind blew from the North and, in spite of himself, he shivered from it. Cassius was a man from the heartland, used to rolling grassy plains and large fields. He looked around now, and saw nothing but the bare, stark ground. Black, it seemed, eager to gulp down any sort of moisture it could get it's hands on. The last couple of days have been the same rolling, austere land, blackened. The sun shone bright yet things seemed hazy, as if some cloud had settled down upon that island, Vvardenfall, and had yet to thin. Cassius grimaced in disgust, he already hated the place.

He would rather be back home, where he could sit around the table with his friends, play cards and drink ale. To tell of their war stories and of their children, or in Cassius' case, children yet to have. But he was dragged up here, to Vvardenfall. At first he was somewhat eager and excited to visit this odd, alien land. But now, he looked at the plains sourly, and didn't say anything. Hours upon hours he rode, sitting upon his black warhorse, Morcus, riding in his saddle. All around him shined the silver, glinting armor of the Lord's Guard, his personal escort. Their faces were covered by shining, white visors, trimmed with an intricate gold pattern. Above flapped the banners of the Imperial Legion and his personal sigul, the two circling hawks, white against the gold.

At last, they neared the place of his stay, the great city of Ebonheart. It was a nice city, carved from stone and well-planned, but it looked like slums compared to the grand Imperial City. Cassius sighed, he was missing his homeland already. As they rode up, a troop of Leggionares were there to greet him, lining the steps that led up to the keep where he would reside. The troop were fully armored in their Imperial Armor, the sun glinting off the scalp of the iron armor. A corps of trumpeters began to blow their brass instruments, creating a shrill yet harmonious sound in the air. Cassius grimaced as he saw that there were no drummers. Only something to exacerbate his mood.

At once, manservants swarmed around him, getting his things and helping him dismount. The Lord's Guard remained mounted, hands on lances. One man that Cassius knew well, Peetrus, came up to him. He was wearing a bright red gown, which had dulled red and was patchy around many places. Peetrus was one of his servants, but Cassius was surprised to see him.

"Peetrus! You are here to greet me? Why you and not Gabriel? Where are the drummers here to greet me? Am I so ill-received in this land?" His voice was commanding, that of a great man. And his stature was impressing upon the small manservant. Cassius was armored in his full silver armor, dazzling in the sunlight. Trimmed and laced with Gold all along the edges and tips of his briastplate, the pauldrons being almost fully gold. His visor hid his face, making him seem anonymous to the world, and the golden horns that jutted out maliciously backward, ever so intimidating. Peetrus dropped his head, wringing his hands. He looked at the ground, and his voice resembled that of a sheep.

"Ah, well, you see, my lord...we--ah--couldn't find drummers for this occasion, my lord. I--you see, my lord--I'm afraid Gabriel is busy with the facilities." His head bobbed up and down respectfully, but he never took his eyes off his feet nor his hands from ringing.

"So Gabriel thought it more important to take care of himself then to take care of my lord. And whilst there are no drummers here, I guess there is nothing we can do." A sigh of relief seemed to escape from Peetrus. "However, I am hungry, dirty, and tired from the travel."

"Ah, yes my lord, food and baths shall be prepared immediately!" He sounded a bit more confident, though his eyes still rested upon the ground.

"Good." Peetrus immediately left, looking relieved, and more servants began to lead his horse to the stables. A handful of the Guard dismounted and began to walk with Cassius while the rest followed the manservants to the stables. The captain of the Guard, a good friend, Paragus, caught up to his step, and began to walk beside him. Both were still garbed in their full armor.

"This is an alien place, my lord, you, as well as I, must be wary. We have many enemies here." the voice was low and powerful, but is still held respect and awe. Cassius reached up and stroked his braided beard, coming out from the bottom of his helmet, over his briastplate.

"I know too well, old friend, of the problems we have here. Tensions are growing, and it is our duty to keep the peace." The captain nodded gravely, looking ahead.

But how long would peace stay? he thought, not talking Not long, methinks, not long at all...

Hlaalu Canton Plaza, Vivec
Crassius Curio

"Umm, Curio-sera, might I get dressed now?" The young elf stood awkwardly at the door, his ashen face flushed. Crassius turned away from his desk, setting down an embossed letter to look up at the Dunmer.

"What? What are you still doing here? And please, my boy, call me Uncle Crassius." The portly Imperial smiled, his pearly teeth bright beneath the fuzz of his goatee.

"Ah, yes, um... Uncle Crassius. But what of my entry into the House?" The elf fidgeted, covering himself as best he could.

"Hmm?" Crassius had returned to his papers, "Oh, yes, certainly, feel free to join whenever you'd like. Just talk to the woman downstairs about some business."

The Dunmer stepped back, his red eyes wide. "But... that's it? What about- why am I..."

"I say my boy, why are you naked?" The Imperial looked the elf up and down. His face seemed genuinely puzzled, but his mahogany eyes shined with laughter. "Really, you'll never get far in this world without any clothes on. Not looking like that at least."

The elf fumbled for words, trying to apologize at the same time he defended his nudity. "Bah!" Crassius stood, "Leave me be, can't you see I have important business to attend to? I was supposed to meet Sadie in the Elven Nations ten minutes ago."

His cheeks nearly matched the shade of his eyes by the time the Dunmer fled the room. In his haste, the poor lad left his clothes in a heap on the floor. Crassius smiled, straightening his rich velvet tunic as he kicked the clothes into a corner, 'Ah, Forvse will take care of him. It's not the first time this has happened, afterall.'

The Imperial councilman picked up the embossed letter he had been reading, going over it once more before he left. 'Well, if Vedam can't be bothered to meet with me in person, he shouldn't be surprised if I'm too busy to make all my appointments on time. Ah, but Sadie... Well worth my time to meet her.' Crassius smiled, reaching into the folds of his shirt for a yellowed manuscript of "The Lusty Argonian Maid"- by far his most prized possession. The Imperial slipped the letter between the pages, and with one final smile he left the room.

OOC: It's good to be writing again. Sheet is in the thread. Not my best post, but its time to get back in business.

Ald-Ruhn, The Under Scar, Miner Manor; Ratharys Oreyn, Miner Arobar,

"So the rumors are true? Vvardenfell is surrounded by fire?"

Fire was a dangerous thing, as the Dunmer people knew it well. From their natural resistance of it, to the deepest depths of the ashlands and Red Mountain, fire was something every Dunmer knew his entire life, from birth to death and sea to sea. Candlelight moved across the cool surface of the large meeting room, detailing the smallest cracks. The archmagister's surprised tone of voice was met with the stern, dull eyes of his assistant, which seemed to plead their own words in every manner plausible to reality.

"Yes Serjo. Nothing's came from Blacklight for days-"

The archmagister's face came to a denseless, blank halt. His eyes widened, following the small flickering lights of candlesticks.

"But how? The temple's mages can't get through it? What are these large portals the soldiers are talking about? What-"

The worried voice of the archmagister began to drift off, seeking a fair hint of reality for the recent events. Ratharys tightened his voice, laying his hand softly onto the desk.

"Miner. I don't have answers. The soldiers said they've seen it, but I've yet to see it myself. We'll figure this out in time. Calm down."

The archmagister took a cold look downward towards the small desk laying before him, shuffling his hands through a dozen papers. His voice regained composure, using pride to strengthen itself further. His head perked back up, followed by a voice which answered his assistant in a sensible, honorable manner.

"These gates. They're placed all over the island, correct?"

"As the Empire says. I'll send another to investigate it shortly, Serjo. I didn't meet here today to discuss these bits of hell in the forest. It will be handled. You've grown up around fire; one could argue it musters in our veins. This circlet around the island will only last so long, for I'm certain it isn't something permanent. The temple has the largest man for man force in this land, and you know very well our honorable standing with the legion. If we don't do something quickly, our honor will crush us all even quicker than these Daedra. Honor and pride go before a fall, Serjo."

The archmagister shot up, red-faced and angry.

"How dare you say that, to disregard our honor? What-"

"Our honor will not be disregarded. The Redoran will hold every bit of honor it once held, but victory goes before honor. We're weakening as we speak, Miner. You have to be willing to do what it takes to achieve victory. But no, this will not be directly from Redoran, but merely a set of wings which fly under us..."

The archmagister paused coldly, staring into the eyes of the Dunmer before him for brief moment before replying.

"And what is this you're suggesting, Rath?"

Ratharys paused, giving his superior a slow nod.

"We create something much like the relation the Camonna Tong has with the Hlaalu. Our own breeding network of deception- not to deceive others through lies, but simply an underhand way of gaining information through the enemy. Otherwise, we'll rot here as we stand. It is going to take more than honor to achieve victory. The times are changing, and thus we must change-"

"Ratharys! You know very well the council is concerned with the direction of money-"

"But what do we have left to put it towards besides the drilling of soldiers? This land is a damned ash desert. There are no farms here. The Empire and Hlaalu own most of the resources- some even that were ours. Redoran will not lose its face of honor, Miner. That is not something to be concerned with. These men could even be hired mercenaries, much less actual Redoran members-"

"And where is the honor in that?"

"Is honor more important to you than victory?"

Sweat began to drift down his brow, hitting the floor with a small knock. The two faced a long pause, before the assistant continued his words.

"Leave it to me and my own personal agenda to organize this myself, and keep it hidden. Focus on the Daedra if you may, Miner. I have other goals to attend to for our house. I will take back what is ours."

"In such a dishonorable manner? How do you bear being a Redoran?"

"The Hlaalu took our lands in a 'dishonorable manner,' as you call it. We will take them back in the same 'manner.'"

"But the Empire will have our necks, Rath!"

Ratharys smirked.

"The Empire will not associate us with them. They will be our scapegoats, Miner. As for those Imperials, we'll see how long their trust stays with our enemy..."

The archmagister quietly sat back down, resting his hand against his chin. He thought to himself for a moment, before waving his hand in a sign of dismissal.

"Very well. Keep this to yourself, Rath. We'll finish our discussion later, but for now you have permission to begin organization. I will present the funding issue to the councilmen. But remember, the investigation comes first, as it is most important."

Heh. Most important...most important my ass!

Ratharys nodded back at his superior, exiting the room and the manor into the Under-Scar. A small boy approached him, obviously of a low house rank. The boy pointed him towards Tevyn, explaining briefly that he had been sent to fetch him. Ratharys nodded, tossing the young boy a few drakes. As the boy ran off, the Dunmer agent moved in towards his old friend, confronting him with a rare smile and hand put forth to shake.

"Tevyn, my brother. It's been a while, a long while..."

I decided to put my other character in. Hopefully more people will post, because the RP depends on everyone doing their part.



Castle Ebonheart, Grand Council Chambers

Inside Castle Ebonheart, a flash of light appeared and the sound of someone teleporting in was heard. Those who noticed only took a quick glance, for they knew what it meant; somebody from the Royal Palace was arriving, probably for diplomatic reasons. Because of the alliance between King Helseth and House Hlaalu, it was important that King Helssth be able to easily contact Duke Dren without lengthy ship travel. This time was no different, although the messenger teleporting in was. He was no courier or messenger boy. He was a Royal Guard.

Andel took a second to recover from the disorienting effects of teleportation. It did not bother him, though, as the only other option would be to take a ship, something he did not cherish. As his senses returned to him, he looked about. Castle Ebonheart seemed quite different from the Royal Palace. It was no matter though, so long as Andel was able to find the Duke. He had a message for the Duke, sealed with the king's signet ring. Andel didn't know what it said, but he had been given clear orders when he was sent here. What the letter said was none of his concern, all that mattered to him was doing as his liege commanded. In his case, it was to guard the Duke of Ebonheart so long as he remained loyal to Helseth. Should the Duke decide to side with another against Helseth, be it his brother, the Imperials, or another group, he was to return to Mournhold; such matters would be best handled by the king himself.

People started to turn their heads when they realized that one of Helseth's guards had arrived in Ebonheart but said nothing. Andel ignored their stares, walking towards the Hlaalu diplomat.

"I have been sent to see the Duke, where would he be at this moment?" Andel spoke with confidence, as while Royal Guards weren't universally respected, few would disrespect and refuse to cooperate with one. To oppose a Royal Guard was to oppose the king. In addition, few would be willing to get on the bad side of a member of such an elite cadre of warriors. The diplomat took a second to look at him, before responding.

"Grandmaster Dren, or Duke Dren as most call him, should be up the stairs to your right."

Andel turned towards his right and headed towards the stairway. As he climbed the stairs, he took a moment to think about this assignment; it will almost certainly be more interesting than guard duty in the Royal Palace, but it felt a bit disorienting. Hopefully it wouldn't affect his performance nor his composure, as both were important to the nobility whose lives were in his hands. The Dunmer reached the chamber where the duke was presiding, and approached him, handing the duke the letter from the king.

"I bring a message from King Helseth." With that he handed the letter to the duke. The letter read:


To Duke Vedam Dren, Duke of Vvardenfell and Grandmaster of the Great House Hlaalu:

House Hlaalu has long proven a valuable ally to the King of Morrowind, both to myself and my predecessor. As such, and with the recent developments, I feel that it is imperative that I do not lose this ally to the the influences of others. Given your position as both Duke and Grandmaster, and given your family connections to the Camonna Tong, I fear that should the Imperials or Camonna Tong wish to influence House Hlaalu, it will be done through you. As such I am sending you one of my own Royal Guards, Andel Othreleth, to guard and protect you. He possesses an impeccable record of fending off assassins and I feel he would be a boon to you. So long as you remain loyal to your king, he will guard you with his life, and you can rest assured that neither foreigners nor local criminals will threaten you in these dark times.

Serve your king, and you will be rewarded

King Hlaalu Helseth, Duke of Mournhold, King of Morrowind.


Andel stood silently, waiting for a response from Vedam Dren.

Vivec

Andrano; Endryn

As the Indoril ambassador rushed away, Andrano too intended to leave the High Fane, knocking his cape back as he turned towards one of the exits. However, after taking only a few steps, another mer disturbed him, although this one seemed far less important or unpleasant. In fact, the soaked Dunmer seemed nervous and at least intimidated by the Archordinator; a good sign in Andrano's book, since he prefered to keep those outside his very small circle of friends at arm's length and then some. The way he was approached, however, did little to rein in his temper, so the militant Ordinator still responded with a voice that denoted anger and perhaps disdain - though this mer was scarred as a warrior, he looked like an Ashlander.

"You found the one you were looking for." The Ordinator grumbled, taking the letter offered. The mention of Armigers somewhat improved the standing of this dripping mer in his eyes, however while Andrano respected the Armigers as an order and Galdal Omayn as a person, he knew none of the handful of Armigers that might've been stationed in Molag Mar. In fact, he had to confess being unaware of any Armigers being stationed there at all - it was traditionally a stronghold maintained by the Order of War with some aid from House Redoran, Omayn seemed to prefer keeping her mer further north, at the frontier of the war against Dagoth Ur, where they were most needed. On the other hand, the war had been over for several years now and Andrano himself had relocated almost entirely to Vivec; it wasn't much of a surprise of the Armigers could now afford to offer aid elsewhere in the Temple's lands.

Despite his considerations about the reliability of these Molag Mar Armigers, in the end Andrano arrived at the conclusion that they were still of the same order as the mer with whom he had fought on many occasions and therefore their judgement was at least worthy of consideration; this was perhaps the only thing that saved this Ashu-Idan, for his obviously Ashlander name guaranteed the Archordinator and many of the mer under his command would have a bad first impression - being more widely spread around Vvardenfell, the Ordinators encountered Ashlanders quite a bit more often than the Buoyant Armigers; given the nature of these confrontations, both groups were mostly hostile towards each other.

"This letter speaks of you as an expert scout." Finally lifting his eyes off the letter, Andrano eyed Ashu suspiciously. He certainly seemed odd, for whatever reason being completely soaked. Perhaps he had decided to take a swim in the canols, or perhaps he was a pilgrim and had visited the Puzzle Canol before comming to this place. "Know you of the ancient stronghold Telasero that lies in the Molag Amur?" He did not, however, wait for the supposed scout to respond, instead turning around and heading outside of the High Fane. He had places to be and people to talk to; this was a critical time for the Temple and the Ordinators part of it and he wasn't going to waste time on some scout, whether he was recommended by the Armigers or not. If he truly wished to talk, Ashu could follow him.

As Andrano exited the High Fane, new visitors entered, these ones much less usual. The Ashlander delegation found itself in a vast building, fitting of the largest temple in Vvardenfell, visited by many pilgrims from all over Morrowind. Its enormous domed main hall, built in the traditional Velothi style and decorated with elaborate tapestries depicting scenes from the life of Vehk and the Veloth's journey east, could boast shrines to not only the Tribunal, but also all of the Temple saints, tended by a large personnel of priests and acolytes. The only other temple in Vvardenfell that could've even come close to comparing with the High Fane was the Ghostgate Fane, and the only one to truly match and maybe surpass it in all of Morrowind was the Almalexia High Fane.

Such unusual visitors quickly attracted the attention of not only the clergy, but, by virtue of being armed, also that of the Ordinators guarding the High Fane. Two of them swiftly made themselves present behind Endryn Llethan, the master in charge of the High Fane, when he emerged from his small quarters to meet the Ashlanders, having been alerted by one of the acolytes. Llethan, however, was an aged Dunmer who had experienced enough in his life not to let the fact he was flanked by two warriors interfere with his priestly manner in the slightest. His hands hidden in the long, wide sleeves of the blue silken robe he always wore in the High Fane, the Master spoke in a calm, dignified voice, letting the Ashlanders - as he had judged them to be, in spite of the visitors' clothing; it was the robe design and their weapons that betrayed them - know that they were in a place of spiritual contemplation and prayer:

"What business do you have here, children? This is not a place for arms and it is common courtesy to leave them beyond the doors of the High Fane. I would ask that those bearings tools of war remain here or step outside outright."

Though Llethan's words were not hostile and neither was his voice, the Dunmer's eyes retained a steely glint within them. Endryn was one of the conservative priests that remained firm in their support of the age-old teachings of the Tribunal; as a result, he wasn't too fond of Ashlanders and their ancestor and Daedra worshipping ways. Perhaps the Tribunal was gone, but their supporters were not and most of the priests in all the temples in Morrowind still taught the same they had for years and despite Nerevarine's deeds, the Ashlanders were still disliked by both the Great Houses and the Temple.

Tevyn, Under-Skar

Tevyn returned the gesture by clasping the man's hand firmly, smiling as he did so an nodding in agreement. "Indeed it has. I almost got lost coming down here in fact!" he exclaimed with a chuckle as he looked around thoughtfully. It had been quite a while since he'd actually been here and he felt a pang of regret... if he wasn't down here that often, it meant he was shirking his duties to the House.

"I'm here because I'm starting to regret my... desire for seclusion from House affairs lately. I've heard from a few people that have come to my door that a warrior party came back reporting quite a tale." he said, pausing for a moment to consider his words. It wasn't that he didn't believe the group had encountered Daedra in the wild, because any rogue group of conjuring sorcerers could have interfered with the warriors task. But the rumors that he'd heard about a portal or gate or something of the sort opening on Vvardenfell seemed to far fetched in his mind. Most likely some shocked warriors who were set upon by a pack a Daedra.

"What is the official word on the matter then? Surely you will investigate such a thing. Times like these we cannot rely on a few soldiers words on a matter as this. A few soldiers who botched what I heard was supposed to be an everyday sort of raid. Or have I been misinformed?"

He finished with a smirk as he wondered who these soldiers were that reported this gate. It was a time of chaos on Vvardenfell, with the ring of fire trapping them, and chaos always brought misinformation. Misinformation brought mistakes, and of course, in a land of warring Houses, mistakes brought ruin. Redoran couldn't afford to believe a few soldiers excuses for failing a mission this time.

Ratharys, Under-Scar

"It's all been confusing, brother..."

Ratharys smirked slightly, scanning his eyes to observe those who stood around him. He paused for a minute, replying in his usual deep, low tone.

"I'm not sure how the information's reliability will turn out, though we have been able to confirm information about the patrols sent out. Only yesterday, the first report arrived. The soldiers arrived wounded, saying they'd escaped through scrolls. From what I've heard they came from the east of here, lead by Garisa Llethri's nephew. The second report came from the road to Maar Gan, a patrol lead by Redas Valyon's son. The first reported some type of gate...Daedra coming out of it... The second reported a demolished caravan, apparently making out the attackers to be Daedra as well. While Daedra near Maar Gan could be possible, these 'gate' sightings could be a bit of a stretch. Then again, our land is surrounded by fire, and this could be related to the matter. Yes, Tevyn, the rumors are true, though we are doing best to keep the people calm. We haven't heard from Blacklight- or anything outside of Vvardenfell, in days."

He took another look around the Under-Scar, trying his best to point to the Llethri Manor in a low, hidden fashion.

"I'm on my way to speak to them now, in there... My assistant will also be on our way to investigate this manner as well. Come along if you'd like, for it may be best to have another set of eyes." The Dunmer showed a rare, comical smile, taking a focused look at his friend's apparel. "But by Vivec, arm yourself if you wish to come. Daedra find robes easy to burn!"

Malinus Ferus, Fort Buckmoth

The day had been long, and its events had been boring. That's all Malinus could think as he looked through the recruitment report for the month. Only three new soldiers had joined the ranks, and they wouldn't be getting any reinforcements from the mainland anytime soon. It seemed unlikely that they would ever be able to expand beyond simply defending, and they were already hard pressed to simply do that. Bandits, political infighting and subterfuge between the Great Houses, the hostile wildlife itself, and now rumors of roving bands of Daedra. It seemed like everything on the damned island was working against them.

Setting down the report, he shifted his attention to the Daedra rumors; just the latest batch of bad news. While he was rather skeptical of the information his patrols had collected on their way through Caldera, he wasn't about to discard it out of hand either. After all, even if it wasn't Daedra, it was entirely possible that the rumors had been caused by some new group of bandits, and that the tales of their attacks had spun out of control. It was equally possible that the attacks were the result of a malicious conjurer. Either way, Malinus decided that he would have to bring the size of the local patrols up to five men each. These attacks could not be allowed to spread into what territory the Empire did control. He sincerely hoped the perpetrator of these newest raids didn't get in in their heads to attack the ebony mine. Even if they failed, it would still most likely bring more Hlaalu interference into play, and that was the last thing Malinus wanted.

Standing up from his desk, he walked out of his office and into the corridors of the fort. Nodding to the soldiers standing guard, he made his through the building and outside, squinting his eyes slightly as he glare form the sun hit him. Moving towards the walls at a leisurely pace, he gazed out at the near barren terrain surrounding the fort with a grimace. Oh, how he missed the forests of Cyrodiil. He'd even take the snow covered lands of Skyrim over this place. Looking north towards Ald'ruhn, he wondered what the Redoran would do about these supposed Daedra attacks. He hoped they could deal with it themselves. While he had no love for the militaristic red-eyes, it would still relieve some of Malinus' own worries. And if some of the mer died while pacifying this new threat, well, that wasn't his problem.