OOC: Hmmm.... ImmortalBlood, why did you leave the rest of the Telvanni hanging? Did you confirm the meeting or not?
Also, I forgot to mention many of Jo'Rakasha's abilities, such as his telepathy and ability to synthesize a comprehendable voice, as he lacks the vocal capacity to make himself understood. Also, I have decided Endasel Avel replaced Gothren as Master (Mistress?) of Tel'Arun before being usurped by Jo'Rakasha... and possibly suffering from Stockholm Syndrome... The council may not neccessarily be aware of the change of powers.

Tel Aruhn, Upper tower

The Telvanni Master's citadel was darkened, the only illumination in the spire's crown streaming unevenly through the clouded green glass windows. The two occupants of the tower's private chambers did not mind, as they could see in total darkness just as well as in broad daylight, and the cost of illumination was better spent in more important areas. Jo'rakasha was currently involved reading an unusual book, recently published by an previously unknown author. Though the content was beneath his greater understanding of the ways of magic, the Khajiit's real reason for reading it was to evaluate its potential to give some of his newest retainers elementary understanding of the arcane arts.

As Jo'Rakasha studied the contents, a floating quill seemed to scribble on fine paper seemingly of its own accord, only the faint violet glow around it indicating the khajiit's mental control over the writing utensil. Though Jo'rakasha found the book to suitably explain how the inexplicable forces worked for either the author or, if he were not a mage himself, the one who helped the scholar with his research, some of the concepts laid out wer so narrowly defined or mis-identified entirely that the Master needed to annote the book so that his retainer and apprentice wouldn't develop bad habits or misconceptions in his studies of the arcane.

Why do you waste so much effort on that one, when you could instead be expanding our knowledge instead? There is still much we do not know about our field, an angry, female, dunmeri voice asked, requiring the khajiit to divert some of his attention to Endase Aval's protesting soul.

Certainly you understand the need for a Mouth and personal assistant to understand the arcane arts to adequately defend himself from treachery, the khajiit responded. He rather enjoyed conversing with the former Telvanni Councilwoman, because as suited as he was to the Telvanni's reclusive lifestyle, the seclusion still could get very lonely without another great mind to converse with.

But why do you waste time with the khajiit? His mind is not capable of understanding our craft, nor would he have the respect of the other council member to be your mouth, the disembodied dunmer retorted.

I do believe that at the moment, the council still believes you among them. After I have your replacement known, they would have to show him the same respect fitting of any other mouth, Do'rakasha replied deliberately, continuing his note-taking as he conversed.

But khajiit still lack the arcane ability of the dunmer, Aval began, quickly cut off mid phrase.

I find your current situation does not support that line of reasoning, the khajiit smugly answered, M'Bakha is most qualified to serve as my mouth, as soon as he learns these basics of spellcasting.

The dunmer's soul remained silent from there on out, allowing Jo'rakasha to finish his anolysis of the book. "M'Bakha, when you have the time, I would like you to read this book and my accompanying notes," Jo'rakasha's deep, reverberating synthetic voice boomed, causing the former slave to look up from the pile of books and artifacts he was busy cataloguing for the Alfiq-Raht.

"Yes sir," the Suthay-Raht replied, glancing at the now-annoted version of the work of Farlin Cacerin, and making a mental note to not file it away with the mess he was pracitically buried in

IC:
Under Skar, Arenim Manor

Thaden spoke the best news Ferther had heard all day. The dim light of the manor only furthered to keep his mood gloomy, and with a day like this, just bad news was the best news.

With a smile, and nod of his head, Ferther began, "You and your men have fought bravely, and are to be commended. For those who have not made it, I am sorry. They had died protecting what you and I have sworn to defend as well...." his ashen voice trailed off and the grin disappeared.

"As for Ghostgate, yet it must be defended. But first Ald-Ruhn will need its warriors to ward off the demons that plague our land....warrior." he lifted his arm, and placed a gauntleted hand on Thaden's shoulder, "We're all tired, and worried for our own as much as the Temple and Armigers at Ghostgate...we know the price that we would pay if it were taken. All Redoran are preparing for one final offensive. The Councilors are gearing themselves....word is we are to enter....to enter through the gates."

He placed his helmet on his head, almost as if there were a telepathic que, doors on the side of the chamber opened and out poured a host of heavily armored Redoran. The elite warriors of the Arenim clan, equipped in Gah Julan, and Dwemer armor. Spears, axes, and swords were slung, shields brandished on the arm.

"Come men, we march to ruin."

Removing his arm from Thaden, he nodded. The mission was suicide. Entering Oblivion, fighting the demons on their own hellish plane.

But nothing, oh nothing was ever more like Redoran then this.

Outskirts of Ald-Ruhn

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Hlaren_Ramoran had done well for himself. Dressed in his custom fitted http://planetelderscrolls.gamespy.com/fms/Image.php?id=52580 and wielding a spear and shield he entered the battlefield shortly behind Athyn Sarethi's men.

He had brought thirty of his own, some designated warriors by class, others being retainers...but all would fight.

Seeing the Sarethi group being over run he turned his march into a frantic run towards the battle, before more Daedra would pour forth. His men in a shield formation, spears thrust out began running as well, hampered while trying to remain in formation.

"ARCHERS!!!!" he shouted to his lungs, he had begun to see grotesque shapes and figures through the hellish gate. His breath leaving his lungs as he was not in his prime, the ache of joints under the heavy weight of Ebony...all plagued him. He would not falter, he would still fight like the warrior he was forty years ago.

With perfect draws of their bonemold bows, the string of sinew gritting like teeth when tensed, the Redoran's fingers plucked away from the string and the missiles launched in a fierce volley within their sky...raining down cruelly on the demons that began to spit out.

Hlaren had never seen anything like it before, a creature with short wings, incapable of flight, a circular mouth of hundreds of teeth, its stomach jutting out and split into what looked to be a wolf's head, growling and barking out. The thing of terror had a horned face, wielding a barbed mace in its left hand, a battle axe of Daedric origin in the other.

He had never seen such an intimidating creature.

Roaring out to the warriors approaching the battle, it leapt...nearly twelve feet in a single lunge.

The arrows began striking the scamps, hungers, and spider daedra leaving the gate, causing a mass of blood and bodies to pile up at its entrance.

The fearsome demon approaching, Councilor Ramoran lifted his shield, and felt the impact of a charging bull slam into him....only heavier. He fell to his back, as the hardest natural substance was quickly penetrated with a Daedric weapon, the battle axe cleaving through the shield's middle and slicing the top layer of his cuirass. The simple impact alone of the blocked blows was enough to break one of his ribs, he growled out in pain as four spears of silver penetrated the beast, the other spearmen being quick to surround it as it howled in pain, stabbing its back, neck, and groin.

The head in its stomach had a pierced eye, and lashed out with its fury. Unable to separate itself from its host, the a warrior thrust his spear into its mouth, which it eagerly bit onto, and to the much confused Redoran, began luring him in.

The main beast still howled, attempting to wriggle itself from the pain it was in and was suffering.

"Again!" shouted Ramoran who rolled himself to the side as the beast would fall on him when it was felled, and he did not want its second mouth near him. The councilor was soaked in Daedric blood, he continued to shout as he thrust his spear into the second eye of the stomach head.

Blinded and in pain, the beast had managed to be within distance of a spearman's arm, and snapped its jaws into motion, clenching the man's arm, drilling him into its mouth as it crushed, ripped, and chewed him into a mass of blood, gore, and armor.

The spears continued their work, finally causing the demon to fall.

Taking no chances, a flame was conjured....it would only leave this plain once the beasts ashes were spread into the wind.

------------------------------------------------------
Ebonheart

Sathryn appreciated the Duke getting to the point quickly. Nodding off to the Imperial Admiral, the Arch Master placed his sheathed blade over his lap, elbows on the masterfully carved table, and gripped his fist. "Will Galas Drenim be joining in the stead of Aryon?" he didn't expect a definite answer, more of a precautionary probe to see if this council was in fact genuine.

"Your grace. Admiral. My cities have been under constant attack by daedra, some of the likes in which we have never seen before, their numbers are plenty. Constantly recycled they return to attack. I do not believe the proper strategy would be to wait for a worse situation to arise before we choose to help each other with what is needed." he nodded as his brandy was poured for him in a limeware goblet, but neglected to have any, or even acknowledge its presence.

"My suggestion is to bring the fight to them, and that is exactly what we will do. The Redoran cannot protect themselves and others if our rules of engagement are to be attacked first. And we will refuse to stand by, as the Legion takes a brunt of attack. I have spoken with Mages Guild scholars and our Temple Masters...and they all agree these gates are two way doors. That being the case, these beasts already force their entrance through a bottleneck, obviously giving us an advantage over them."

He looked over everyone in the room, the Duke and Admiral repeatedly.

"As for what Redoran can provide, I can send one platoon of spearmen and an additional score of warriors to monitor and police the main road connecting the West Gash and Bitter coast, along with three score of elite Redoran to aid in protecting Vivec, as the Legion will no doubt protect Ebonheart. It is my suggestion that we discuss with the Temple, using Vivec as a Sanctuary from the Oblivion gates."

OOC: Wow, this RP certainly is getting busy. I've read through most of the posts but I may have missed some things. Hopefully nothing related to my character or the Telvanni. ImmortalBlood has the meeting been confirmed or not. I assume it is as Aryon is heading to Sadrith Mora, regardless my character is heading there aswell.

IC:


Tel Uvirith, Tower of Master Athyn Drelos

Master Athyn strided through the winding maze-like passages of the tower until he stopped in a large chamber, empty but for the long table the spanned the length of the room and the many chairs joined it. In each chair sat a robed and hooded figure who stood up and bowed as the Master entered. At the foot of the table was a throne that dominated the room and held the crest of the Telvanni. The Master slowly walked and nodded at each of the robed figures as he walked past as if to acknowledge them and at each nod the man or woman would sit.

After reaching the throne Athyn sat down and looked over the meeting. "Loyal apprentices" Master Athyn paused before continuing "As I am sure you know Vvardenfell has hit hard times and every House and faction present has been effected. So to has the Telvanni and the instability that has plagued us for centuries is now possibly worse than ever before. Any knowledgeble Telvanni would know that this is a prime time for backstabbing and ambition to raise your position in our Great House and sure enough it will happen to both I and you. But, one thing is certain. Those who stand by me will see great things. No other Master knows of your existence and one would mearly see you as one of my mere servants. They would be correct to some extent but each of you holds one thing that makes you different from the rest. Who have my gift of power. Something others would call Knowledge, Willpower and Strength. I will call upon you my apprentices soon and we shall crush all those who stand against us. That is all"

After finishing his words he stood up and walked down the chamber to the exit. Each of the apprentices kept silent but acknowledged his words. Some kept calm while the weaker ones hearts slowly beated faster and faster at the thought of uprising. Was this what he meant? some thought to themselves As if things weren't worse enough as it was!. It was the time for the Master to meet the Arch-Magister personaly, regardless of whether or not he wanted the meeting. It was now the time to seek alliances and usher in a new age. The current crisis meant a time for talking and for all Masters to meet personaly, something which has not happened in House Telvanni for many many years. He once again strided through the corridors and levitated down the tunnels until he reached the grand entrance door and the two guards that stood beside it bowed as he left. He would take a ship at the small port east of the tower that served as his personal transport link to the tower of Tel Uvirith.

Arvs-Drelen, Velothi Tower of Master Baladas Demnevanni

"I will say nothing to you mortal " the Daedra spat at the old man before feeling more of his wrath as the large ball of fire pierced his chest. The Dremora was in much pain but as normal of his kind, he showed none of it but certainly felt it. The old man was getting impatient with the creature and mearly turned away as he waved his hand, causing the kneeling and bloodied Dremora to vanish into thin air.

"Stupid creatures, there loyalty knows no bounds to there master. Either that or there damn pride" he sat down as he poured a glass of flin and drank. He was sat in a large chamber with a summoning pedestal in the middle and the small table and chair he was sat on beside it. Around the pedestal were many bloodstains from the countless Dremora summoned there. This was the tower of Master Baladas Demnevanni and the only occupant was he. He was different from many of the masters of the house as he much more prefered the simplistic Velothi towers to the mushroom ones many of the councillors resided in. He thought they were too much of a hassle to navigate with all of the long winding corridors and levitation required to go up floors and as well as that was the claustrophobia one felt. Also he prefered to be alone with no servants or apprentices around him. All he needed was his books and summoned creatures to keep him company, his favourite Daedra being his tame Daedroth pet called Deathclaw.

Standing up and straining his back he slowly walked back to the pedestal, muttering some words and raising his hand in the air as a bright light came out of it and hovered over the pedestal. It began to form into a human like figure and slowly colour came to it as it manifested itself into physical form. Another Dremora appeared and soon another interogation was about to begin.

Second sheet.



IC to come.

Ald'Ruhn

The tide of Daedra seemed endless, more and more pouring out of the gate. Reinforcements from Ald'Ruhn came, but unless the battle would be over soon, it seemed the Redoran would not hold. This, then, must be how our ancestors died. Gloriously, leaving piles of dead behind them. What a beautiful manner of death, so fitting of a Redoran... The Daedra may take our cities, but we'll leave every inch covered in corpses; they'll know the name Redoran, and remember it for an eternity! Arsayn's heart fluttered; if he was to die in battle, then let it be today, for there would be no opportunity more glorious. The piles of dead bodies near the barricades were growing; soon, the Daedra could start using their fallen comrades as a ramp. It mattered not to Arsayn, though - filled with a desire for glory, he leaped at the nearest daedroth, a scamp, tackling the creature to the ground and slitting its throat with his shashka which was, by now, completely soaked in blood.

"MARG! MARG!" The young Redoran yelled from the top of his lungs in the ancient tongue as he stood up. Indeed, 'Death' was the most suitable word now, for there was nothing more than that on the entire battlefield. "MARG!" He roared again, whirling his shashka above his head to build up momentum. A Dremora climbed up the wall, only to have the Redoran's sword drive halfway through its neck; drawing it back, Arsayn let out a beastly howl, feeling how the battle rage took over every single cell of his body. Yelling "MARG!" for the final time, he jumped into the fray once again, a single thought on his mind - if he were to die, he would die like a warrior of old.

Fort Buckmoth

A cheer went across the walls as the third of the Daedric scamps fell, an arrow jutting from it's neck. Malinus though, just stared out into the distance, not paying any attention to what was going on around him. His thoughts were on other matters, specifically the defense of Caldera. He had sent half of his force there to garrison it, bolstering the existing city guard. He had also sent out a suggestion to the governor that he conscript all who could fight into the militia. He had gotten no response on that matter, but he wasn't very concerned. With the amount of soldiers guarding it, he was confident that it would not fall. The fort itself was another matter.

Though he still had half his forces here, he didn't think it would be enough to stop the Daedra if they came in force. What he had would be enough to stop a normal army in it's tracks, but what he would be fighting would most definitely not be a normal army. And while the men might cheer from high up on the walls, fighting them close quarter would be a different story. Some of his men had never even fought in a true battle yet, such as young Decius, and he was convinced that when the time came to fight, that they wouldn't have it in them to hold their ground against such monstrosities. A normal battle was hard enough on the nerves, the fact that they were fighting demons like this simply made it all the worse.

He looked down at the bodies of the three scamps and wondered when the Daedra would truly hit them with their power. These few attacks they had launched had been weak, with only a few minor Daedra involved. Perhaps they were scouting out their defenses and preparing the true assault. Or perhaps they didn't see them as enough of a threat to deal with first. Whatever the case, he was grateful for the moments of peace that they had, though it unnerved him to some degree. The calm before the storm, as they say.

He looked up and saw his scouting party off in the horizon, approaching them as fast as they could, as if Dagon himself was on their heels. He turned swiftly and clasped his hands behind his back, then began walking down towards the gate. He could hear Decius behind him, following him as he often did when he had no other duties. The young lad was a good soldier; he was loyal, strong, and smart, but he lacked experience, and that would get him killed if he wasn't careful. Too many of the recruits these days thought themselves invincible.

As he walked down the corridors towards the main gate, all in his path snapped to attention and saluted, and he nodded his head in return to them. By the time he reached his destination, the scouts were inside the fort, and they looked to be in good shape. That was a relief, because now, every time he sent out a scouting party, he was afraid that they might be ambushed by the Daedra.

"Sir, we went along the normal path, circling Caldera and inspecting the surrounding countryside. Everything was clear, no sign of any Daedric presence. If you don't mind my asking sir, where do you think the monsters are?"

Malinus grimaced, but answered the man regardless. "I'm not sure, son. Just be glad that they're not here and hope that they're getting killed by our allies somewhere."

The soldier nodded, then left without saying another word. The scouting party that had been with him had already dispersed, probably going to get some well deserved rest. Malinus then walked back inside, towards his office and the bottle of brandy that awaited him there.

Ebonheart

The mines!

Baryn waited until Sadene had left his office before letting a crooked smile cross his face. Stroking at his ragged beard, he poured over the notes the young Dunmer had given him. It had been some time since he had a chance to oversee any operations within Hlaalu's mines, and had been recently relegated to little more than a keeper of the books, a number-cruncher. But now... NOW it looked like he had a chance to escape the tedious confines of Ebonheart, and start doing some REAL work.

He turned his attention to the map, tapping it contemplatively, calculating the distance from Ebonheart, the best route to get there and the time it would take to do so. Standing up suddenly, he began to pace around the room, speaking as much with his hands as he did with his mouth.

"Alright Rek, we need to get started immediately. Make sure we have all the equipment and supplies we will need. We'll head to Vivec, and take a Silt Strider from there."

Turning to his desk, he opened up a drawer and removed several folded maps. Snatching up his journal, he stuffed the maps between the pages and jammed it into his pocket. Rek had already put aside his whittling and was heading out the door, his mace now placed snugly in the unique scabbard at his side, when Baryn whirled around, calling after him.

"Ahoy there, frogskin! Where do you think you're going? I have another job for you."

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Rek tramped back towards Baryn, who handed him the charter he had received from Sadene.

"Round up some workers. Only those you can find nearby. We'll recruit the rest on the stop over in Balmora. Meet me at the docks in two hours."

"Sure thing, Chief."

Rek headed out of the office, as Baryn returned to his desk, swiping several bottles and a stack of papers off of it to make room for the map to the mine. He quickly removed a key attached underneath the seat of his chair and unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk. He milled about in it for several moments before coming up with a wooden board, a piece of parchment stuck to it. Placing the board next to the map, he inspected the two side-by-side, then smiled his gnarled smile.

"How very clever. She's not a Hlaalu for nothing. Let's just hope that we don't arrive before the work is done."

Replacing the board, he relocked the drawer, placed the key back in it's hiding spot, and exited his office, barely pausing to close the door behind him.

OOC: Was gone all day, reading through the posts now.

The Telvanni meeting has been confirmed. Show up!

It's almost 4 here, i'll reply tomorrow.

Vivec, Temple Canton
"Archcannon, the Ghostgate area is a disaster. I'm ordering a withdrawal of half the units in Gnisis for the Gate Siege Mission to report immediately to the gate to reinforce the Armigers." Berel Sala decreed from his viewpoint across the Archcannon's table. The room was a bit brighter, and Archcannon Saryoni seemed rejuvenated. Perhaps he went beyond his nightly meal to grab himself some much needed rest and to clear up the speckles of hair that had earlier traced his jawline.

"I recently sent a Diviner and three Curate healers from Ald'Ruhn to the gate yesterday. If the Fence is failing then in the name of Vivec let it fall. What is lost can be recovered, we cannot spend more lives on a lost cause." The Archannon moved to stand up and check on the health of his hearth, gathering his fire poker and shoving it at the wooden logs within the hot furnace.

"Serjo, even with the Hand Arnas Therethi in Gnisis, I fear of the mission's success." Berel griped in doubt, fingers hooking under his helmet tucked under his arm.

"The Grace of Daring, Berel?" Tholer would request, turning from the fire to stare ardently at his Disciple. Berel cleared his throat and lowered his head.

"It goes... Thank You for your daring, Lord Vivec. I shall not shun risk nor hide behind the mask of cautious counsel, for fortune favors the bold. Fine words from a man with faith that transcends us all. Forgive me, in these times I fear even my own stability has been put to the test."

"Then steady yourself, and refer to the holy texts should you forget the turns of the path we are taking." The Archannon's fingertips guided over one of the early pages of the new article he'd been drafting out, his touch skittering over the surface as a mosquito my dance on the lid of a pond.

"The Gate Siege Mission is of top priority. We must discover if these gates can be closed. If any of us are to do it, then certainly Disciple Arnas and his men will be capable of doing so. Speaking of which, I heard wind of a rather large delivery addressed to him coming in?"

"Yes, a large trunk from Ebonheart - one of the last shipments they were able to receive from Mournhold since the Circlet's appearance."

"Have one of my personal carriers deliver it to Gnisis immediately. Whatever it is, whether it be a collection of spoons or the head of a guar, I want him to have it before he steps inside of that Gate.” Saryoni retook to his seat, recovering his quill and sought out an ink bottle not already emptied. He went through three of them, and sighed softly in impatience before moving to order his desk a bit more, discarding the empty ones as he should’ve a while ago.

“It will be done, Archcannon. Good evening, Serjo. May Vivec steady your hand and may your words strike clear to our souls.” Commander Berel would bow his head in Saryoni’s direction. Saryoni would smile pleasantly in his direction, “Blessings of the Almsivi to you as well, Commander.”

Berel’s exit brought a sigh from his lips, the troubled Ordinator marching to his office with a disgruntled look on his face. He had too little troops, and most of them were to be used in this… experiment. Obviously, the Archcannon had more faith in their army than he did. Sending off orders would consume his night, and from a dwemer goblet he would drink a fine cup of water – laced with shein.

***

“You there!” The caped Ordinator walking silently about the crowds would be singled out by an Ordinator with a terrible voice, the higher ranked guard peering at him through eye slits. “What are you doing away from your station?” There had best be a good reason. The questioning Ordinator was standing opposite of another, both of them bearing torches to illuminate the night. A few yards off in a neat row five others stood guarding the Temple Canton entrance. Security in this region was tighter beyond belief, everyone got hassled, even their own Temple laymen. Fragile times meant harsher measures, and if they thought the Ordinators could be nasty, they hadn’t seen anything yet.

As the Arch Master of House Redoran spoke within the Council Chambers, speaking to both him and Duke Dren of his plan to engage the Daedra head on, Tyr couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corner of his lips, a certain sense of pride rising up in his heart. It was no secret to anybody that, while House Hlaalu had accepted Morrowind's place within the Empire much more easily than the other houses, a great many within the Legion held much more respect for the warriors of House Redoran. The Arch Master's plan to defend Vivec City, and speaking of what he would provide to help fight the scourge crawling all over the island...it was a far cry from the petty demands of Duke Dren, demanding to know what the Legion was going to do to pull their sorry hides out of the fire.

"Archmaster," Tyr began, a noticeable tone of respect in his voice. "First off, I would like to thank you, and House Redoran, for your generous contributions in keeping these Daedric sons a [censored]es bottled up." He cast a half glance towards Dren. "It's good to see that some of you Dunmer know how to fight." As much as he would have liked to give the Duke a real piece of his mind, however, the officer in Tyr knew better; Talos forbid they should upset their Hlaalu allies, after all.

He quickly turned his attention back to the Archmaster, however, a single eyebrow shooting up in intrigue. "Now then, I heard you say something about those portals being a two-way affair?" he asked, folding his hands professionally behind his back. "Now, if we were to get a group of those mages into one of those portals, say, with a platoon of Legionnaires, what would be the chances of them finding a way to shut those damn hell gates down?" The Admiral glanced back at Duke Dren, though this time his expression was in earnest. "As you can well imagine, Duke, if we can shut these damn things down, it'll go a long way to helping us send these bastards back to whatever pit they've crawled up out of."

Tyr turned back to the Archmaster. "So, if you can get these scholars of yours lined up, I'll prepare a detachment of troops, and maybe, just maybe, we can find the heart of this little invasion, and rip it out."

OOC: Spicer, assuming it's all good with Storyteller, we can get the scholars and Legionnaires to meet up at Gnisis, and then get our little foray into the gate with the Ordinators started.

" A new Centurion, eh? " Proximo said as he noticed the man, giving him a quick salute in return as he neared him. Well from the look of his nose, he has seen his share of fights. Thats good, real good. About damn time they send another officer to help out in this mess. " Well, Centurion Belisarius, you couldn't have picked a worst time to get stranded on this damn island. " Proximo forced a weak smile upon his leathery, sunburnt face, although anyone could see the worry in his dark green orbs that he tried to hide from his men.

" Walk with me. " Proximo said as he turned around and walked towards a pile of crates holding various supplies, never bothering to see if the recently promoted officer was following. " Dark times are here, Tiberius, dark, dark times. As you may know, of late, we have been assaulted by the hordes of daedra from Oblivion. Some we have never even seen before, with hides as tough as steel and a hunger for our flesh that cannot be filled.

" What I am about to tell you is to remain between the two of us. The men are not to find out, for it will lower the moral I have been fighting to keep high. Our resources here are stretched thin, Tiberius. So far we have managed to hold strong, but we cannot continue to police these roads and cities for long without help. Just two days ago, I lost three men in a patrol south of Balmora along the river due to a ambush of dremora and daedroth. We butchered them all and we continue to fend them off, but for how long? "

Breaking from his speech for just a moment, he grabbed a young legionnaire near the two by the arm and pulled him closer towards the crates. " Trooper, I told you to have these put up an hour ago. Yet, I still see them right where they were. " His voice was stern, yet in a strange way caring, much like a father scolding his child. " Get some men and get them moved. " He continued, patting the youth on the shoulder.

" Yes, sir. I'm sorry about that, sir. I will get right on it. " The trooper said, darting off towards the wall to gather an extra hand or two.

" They are good men, just sometimes a bit lazy. You have to keep on them. " Proximo said with a smile, placing his dark pipe back in his mouth to get another puff of the rich, spicy smoke. "Now as I was saying, if we don't get a platoon sent here soon from Ebonheart, it's very possible we will not be able to hold the roads around the Fort and Balmora.

" Reports from the north say the Redoran are taking the fight to the daedric bastards, butchering them like lambs to the slaughter. We could use them down here, instead of these whimpering Hlaalu nobles that hide behind us like scared children. And that is what brings me to the task I will give you if you choose to accept it. "

He turned to the Centurion, locking eyes with the Imperial officer. " Another patrol will be sent out soon to Balmora to check on the civilians. If you so choose, I need you to go check on the city and see if the nobles there need anything. Even in these times, if we do not keep them happy, trade with our grand empire suffers. I was going to go myself, but I hate dealing with them. Just remember though, if you give these Hlaalu dogs an inch in any dealings, they will try to take two. "

Ghostgate.

"Steady...wait for it...NOW!"

The sound of multiple arrows piercing through the sky at an enormous speed, was met with loud screams and roars from the daedra who were shot. Several of them resembled pin cushions as they dropped to the ground. The Buoyant Armigers had re-posistioned themselves, many were now rejuvenated by the curates who had been sent to heal them, something they had much need for.

At the front of the archer's line, stood Theloria, who had taken over for the newly fallen ranger-general. The warriors had charged at the enemy, slashing and hacking their way through the thick crowd of foes who blocked their path for the real goal. Namely, the Oblivion gate. It was not a suicide mission for them however, for them it was an honor to protect the grand Ghostgate, and they knew that Almsivi would lead them to victory.

The archers had posistioned themselves in a half circle formation, most of them standing on top of high rocks to keep their distance, and out of the warriors hair, so to speak. It was not a pretty sight to say the least, many bodies hit the ground, not only deadra, but Buoyant Armigers, and even two healers had met their end that day.

Theloria stood on a rock closest to Ghostgate, taking small breaks from fighting to quickly cast a barrier around the warriors who entered the gate. The Oblivion gate, was a dreadful sight. It was like looking into the jaws of hell itself. Theloria could feel her heart stop whenever she cast a glance at the monsterous gate. The red gate stuck up from the ground, like a sword that had just forced its way through flesh.

Raising her voice loudly, Theloria called out the order, "Archers! Give them some cover, taunt the foul deadra away from our brave warriors! Those at the front, make sure they don't make it too close to the healers!"

All she could do know was pray for the Buoyant Armigers that entered hell. Pray that they would make it back alive, and pray that they would not loose Ghostgate to these unholy creatures.

Sadrith Mora.

Katsaniah studied the commoners of Sadrith Mora. Most non-telvanni who resided here, were usually either Alchemists, freelancers looking for work, peasants who sold their wares, tradesmen and slave drivers. There were some "normal" people who lived here too, though Katsaniah was not too sure of what they did. Perhaps they just enjoyed living here, which was understandable. Sadrith Mora was a charming town, and the biggest of all Telvanni towns. Mages loved visiting Sadrith Mora, there was much to buy, rare ingredients, books and enchantments you would find no other place. And to top it all off, they felt secured, they did afterall have Telvanni wizard-lords who were feared by outsiders.

Master Neloth had decided to attend this meeting, so he brought his two guards along with Katsaniah who walked behind him, as she always did. The citizens bowed their head at their lord, however none dared to smile at him or look him in the eyes. Neloth smirked smugly to himself, he loved being feared. To him, it meant they knew their place, they were the peasants, and he was the almighty Master.

Biting her lip sligtly, which was an odd habit Katsaniah always displayed when lost in thoughts, she couldn't help but wonder what the other councillors would say at the meeting. How she wished to be there and listen! She had secretly hoped that her father would refuse to have any part of it, maybe then she would have a chance to take over for him. After all, she was his daughter, and one of the few people he actually talked to.

Sighing quietly to herself, Katsaniah couldn't help but feel herself loose patience.

By Mephala. Why does he insist on walking so slowly! And it's only to make a statement...agh. If I had just gone alone I'd be there by now. Hmph. Not like anyone would assault me, at least not here. Besides, if they did, Varion would just burn their skin off.


Ald-Ruhn.

"Serjo, I will gladly join my kin into the very pit of hell itself. I fear not death, nor do I fear pain. But before I go face this with my brethren, I will need a moment. I wish to go to the temple, and visit my wife first." Thaden kept a straight face as he spoke, however his words turned into a tone of sorrow as he mentioned seeing his wife. He already knew she would be cross with him, more than likely she would order him to bring her along.

Bowing to Ferther Mano, Thaden left the quarters and made his way to the temple. The temple was built on a high level, so that the Redoran could look at it, and feel Almsivi protect their city. Thaden had always been fond of Ald-Ruhn. Sure, it had some ash storms which were horrid, but the town had so much life. There was much to find here, and who would not feel proud to live in the very capital of the Redoran?

As he entered the temple door, Thaden took a deep breath in. He knew that Theloria would sitting in front of the shrine, praying or healing the sick. But when he looked around, Theloria was no where to be found. Frowning slightly, he continued to look around. There was little time to spare, but he didn't want to leave before talking with her.

"Excuse me? Are you here to see a healer?" Thaden spun around, though his smile faded when he saw it wasn't his wife. Instead, he saw Rumare, an old healer who had been in service to the tribunal for many years.

"No...well, sort of I guess. Is Theloria Andrano here? I need to speak with her."

Rumare shook her head at the man. Without even asking, she could tell that the dunmer was about to enter war. He was dressed in Bonemold armor, though his face was already covered with ash and dried blood. Offering a feint smile, she broke the silence, "I am sorry. The lady was sent to defend Ghostgate only a few hours ago, she has not yet returned. If you wish for it, I will gladly leave a message for her."

Thaden could feel his heart sink down to his stomach. As much as he wanted to rush to her an help her, he knew he could not do so. Right now, his house needed him, and there was no time to loose.

Muttering up a reply, Thaden nodded at Rumare, who had gone to fetch him a quill and clean parchment. Scribbling down his last words to his beloved wife, Thaden gave the note to Rumare, before walking out of the temple, and making his way to where the warriors were gathering for their mission.

Tiberius studied the man in front of him closely as he gave a salute. He had harsh, weather worn skin, as well as a alrge scar down the entire left side of his face, both showing the man had experience in the field. Tiberius followed the man as he began to walk, clasping his hands behind his back, as he stared down at the ground in fornt of him, listening as the man spoke.

He listened as Proximo told him of a recent ambush along the river, and Tiberius could hear the tone of the man's voice, about loosing three men, and about something else.... Possibly hopelessness? It was early yet to loose hope, but Tiberius knew the nature of the Dremora and Daedra, knowing there was virtually and endless line of them in their hellish worlds, just waiting to walk upon the mortal lands.

They stopped as the Centurion began scolding a young looking soldier for neglecting his duties, as the man ran off, leaving Proximo to remark about how lazy the men were sometimes, and Tiberius had to agree with a nod. Proximo continued talking, smoking from a black pipe as he did, exhaling the smoke near Tiberius so he could smell the strong pipe weed distinctly.

Tiberius matched the stare of the Centurion as he looked into his eyes, requesting his first duty. It was not what he had expected however, though his expressionless face betrayed nothing that was on his mind. Dealing with the Hlaalu was not his favorite thing to do, nor was it on his top hundred things to do, but duty was duty and that could not be ignored, especially in a time like this.

"Bah. Damn Hlaalu. Why can't they be more like those Redoran. Some fine warriors there." he said, sighing at his new duty. "When were you planning on sending those troops then?" he asked.

Mistriss Dratha
Sadrith Mora

Dratha watched with a sneer as the city of Sadrith Mora slowly pulled into view. She stood impatiently on the deck of the Pole Star, the ship belonging most in Tel Mora's docks, as it was crewed entirely by women, and thus the only ship that Dratha would ever grace with her presence. True, she could have simply teleported here, but she was in no hurry; the rest of the councilmen would just have to wait for their superior to arrive.

The ship itself sailed with incredible confidence, even in the midst of the crisis. With five powerful wizards, a Telvanni Master and four of her hands, you had little to worry about. As soon as the ship docked, the sailors quickly went to work set down the boarding plank for the Telvanni, then respectfully cleared a path for them.

The four lesser wizards stood around Dratha, and one of the aides set down a lavish cushion in front of her. Dratha quietly sat down cross legged on the cushion, and with a simple thought to activate it's enchantment, it rose about three feet from the ground, and began hovering into the city. As they entered, a simple wave of the Master's hand swung open the large door, often called the Gateway into Telvanni lands here on Vvardenfell.

The aged Telvanni did not waste anytime among the peasantry of the city, and they silently made their way towards the Council House, the sneer still decorating the Master's face.

Barvon Valno,
Ald-Ruhn

Barvon stood within the outskirts of the large group of Redoran, though no less ready nor eager then those at the very front of the group, standing beside their commander. He shifted in his armor, much like a second skin to him, and settled. His shield was already thoroughly strapped to his left arm, and his sword sat welled oiled in it's scabbard on his hip, ready to be drawn in a moment's notice.

He nodded when another warrior came from his side and joined the group. He let it sit in silence for a moment, before speaking. "I've heard rumors, Cousin, that we are going to take the fight into one of those Gates soon." His voice was obviously eager with anticipation, he was looking forward to avenging the many friends of his that died already in the battle. "And from there we will find a way to close the portal for good, or slaughter every last one of them in their own home."

Ald'ruhn: Outskirts

Councilor Garisa Llethri strode forward, the step of his steel boots drowned out by the shouts of his kin and the roar of the enemy. Slamming the visor of his steel helm closed, he swiftly slid his broadsword from its sheath, the ebony glinting in the crimson light. "To glory my family!" At his command, the men and women of his clan broke into a sprint. Every Redoran lived for battle and their lack of hesitation showed it. Garisa smiled under his armored visage. ALMSIVI take you foul Daedra! His eyes caught the brief flash of lightning weaving across the battlefield.

---------------------------------------------------

Beniamus Revas's hands tingled as he felt the energy flee his hands at his mental command. His Gah-julan armor had seen little wear due to his spellsword training. He would strike down his enemy from afar and finish them with his blade. Every mage knew Daedra felt the effects of shock more than any other elemental form of damage and so he smiled as he unleashed another charge of electicity into a charging Dremora.

---------------------------------------------------

The warriors of Councilor Llethri's clan felt the surge of the Daedra as their sheilds met their enemies charge. Steel rang and shields clashed as each sought to destroy the other.

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Eindel took a deep breath as she readied her bonemold bow, quickly knocking an arrow to the string. Her bosmeri expertise showed as she smoothly drew the arrow to a full draw and quickly releasing it, taking a scamp high in the chest. With another fluid motion she let fly another arrow, striking hard into the shield of a Dremora. Cursing, she saw the demon stride forward, its blade arcing in a downward motion ending the life of one her fellow retainers.

Hatred coursed through her body as she drew another arrow. The Dremora had turned its attention to her and stepped towards her at a quickened pace letting out a bloodcurling yell. Loosing her arrow, she cursed again as the Dremora's shield took the sting of her arrow. The bastard was upon her, lifting its sword above its head for what was sure to be a killing blow. Eindel stepped back as her she flicked her wrist in practiced fashion. Her foe gurgled, its hand clutching at its throat; one of her daedric darts burried deep in it's windpipe. It stepped forward before crashing to the ground, life fleeing the body. Giving the demon a swift kick to head, ensuring it was dead, she turned her attention back to the battlefield.

Sadrith Mora
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Telvanni_Council_House

It had been quite a while before Aryon let alone any council member had entered the Council House. The http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Image:MW-place-Telvanni_Council_House.jpg was quite something to behold. Most of the time it was only the mouths that met in the stead of the actual council members. It would be interesting to see the other council members, but it could also be quite dangerous. Aryon wasn't worried, he was capable enough by himself and doubted very much anyone would actually try anything.

Aryon's eyes flashed a bit as he remembered the note he had been passed as he entered the city. He looked down on it, four simple words pulling a slight smile over his face;

Serosi is on Vvardenfell.

His old student had indeed returned it seemed. Hopefully he would come for a visit, if not Aryon would have to find him instead. He wondered what his possible predicament was that he had come to Vvardenfell. Someone would be very unlucky to say the least.

Vivec City
Temple Canton



"Message Serjo Berel Sala, take me to him." Serosi's words were quick and sharp, typical of a soldier. He made mental notes of where the guards were, the possible escape plans. It didn't look like he'd be able to just strike and vanish, a lengthy chase was almost impossible to avoid. Luckily for him the armor he wore would come off the moment he decided it to.



OOC: Busy day today. [censored] posts from me.

Shulk Egg Mine

Corpses littered the ground. Sirjere's scales seemed to chill and he took a few steps back. His appointed Legion guide, Valentine, raised his heavily worn iron shield and motioned for the inspector to step behind him. Everything had seemed fine on the day's hike to the cavern. Sirjere had met Valentine at the South Wall where he was downing what seemed like a jug of shein. But it seemed to be the common practice for many people in these dark times.

The storm had cleared overnight and Magnus' escape hatch lit up the whole of Tamriel. The hike along the Odai proved a simple task as Sirjere knew the route and the only hostile creature was a pair of mating Kagouti which Valentine easily dispatched with his war axe. But the outside encampment built as a haven for travelers up the wild animal paths from Hla Oad and as a point of relaxation where the miners could bask in the Sun's rays was entirely abandoned, the fire pit was yet still burning.

Slowly but surely, the duo delved deeper into the burial pit. Every miner assigned to the Hlaalu holding had been brutally murdered, the looks of terror still upon their faces. A scream parted the choked air. Someone was yet alive.

They ran deeper and deeper into the graveyard, every kwama laid dead upon the earthen floor. Even the Queen had been decapitated and a green ooze burning dissolved the surrounding ground down a few inches. Behind here Kati was being tortured by a large Dremora. She must have been trying to protect the matriarch of the hive. She had no chance against the infernal monster. Valentine's heavy footfalls must have alerted the knight for he stopped beating the poor Redguard. Instead he pulled her up by her long hair and shoved his enchanted blade through her torso. She didn't scream, she accepted her ascent to Aestherius. Sirjere hypothesized she was a follower of the Divines. He had retained his calm and cold demeanor.

Valentine hastily charged against the daemon.
"Never again you cur! Return to the black void you were formed in!"

Dagon's warrior smirked and easily pushed the legionnaire's axe aside with his studded gauntlet.
Valentine's eyes grew wide and the Dremora swung a punch into his Adam's apple. He fell to his knees before the superior fighter. Sirjere ran.

He ran out of the cave, he dove into the river, he swam for many hours without stop. Fear gripped him.

A Hlaalu guard spotted him from the city walls and a detachment brought him into the city. He mumbled quietly and refused to accept offers of aid. He had to give his reply on time.

The messenger, confused on why he had been called on such short knowledge, wearily he took the letter. Ebonheart would be a long journey, he had just returned from Caldera with some Ebony contracts. But he knew his place. It would be delived to Duke Vedam Dren.

Sirjere retired to his quarters one the third floor, Nileno was already snoring loudly, probably getting ready to deal with a bad flin hangover. He had done his job and had made a simple report.

To the Grandmaster Vedam Dren:

On the status of Hlaalu mining operations on Vvardenfell; do not expect trading to continue if the Daedra murder all who are willing to buy. Thankfully the Legion was not happy with the death my protector whom died protecting me from a marauding Dremora so they sent patrol to take care of the threat. New workers will be sent to the Shulk Egg mine where the Dremora cut down all our workers in due time.

Long live the Grandest House Hlaalu,
Kinsmen Sirjere

Sadrith Mora.

Enough was enough. This whole grand walk with guards and what not was taking its toll on the eager Katsaniah Alvales, who more than anything, just wanted to run off at once. It had gone up for her by now, that when they eventually arrived at the Councillor's chambers, that the others would already be there. If so, she would be ordered to leave, and everyone knew how unbelievably long the magisters could take. There were times they even fought, rather than actually discuss. Master Neloth was a prime example of that.

"Father..." Katsaniah asked caustiously as she walked closer to Neloth, "May I go on a head? I just realised that perhaps some other Telvanni might be there to disturb. It would be best if I checked first, would it not?"

Katsaniah bit her lip, there was a slim chance he would actually agree, and she had her doubts. Neloth seemed to ponder this for a moment, before nodding sagely, comfirming his answer. Katsaniah's ears perked up with surprise, and she bowed to her father as she walked on, her speed slightly faster than before.

Upon entering the Telvanni council house, Katsaniah couldn't help but feel a sense of pride to be apart of this grand house. The building was beautifully shaped, with exquisite, and rather big, shards of crystals. There was a lavishly cut platform for each of the grand councillors, though their mouths would usually occupy these places, as their magisters had their own towers and towns.

As she looked around, Katsaniah was suprised to see that Master Aryon was already there. Thanking herself for walking on ahead of her father, she approached her fellow sorcerer, and bowed gracefully. With a smile on her lips, she greeted him,

"Good day, serjo. I hope you are in good health? Not to seem unpatient, but I must say...I am rather curious as to why you asked for me. Forgive me if I sound rude in anyway, though it was quite unexpected for me to recieve a message from you."

Ald-Ruhn.

This must have been the first time that Thaden did not feel excited about going to battle. Usually, his adrenalin pumped furiously through his veins, yet now...perhaps because he did not get the chance to see his beloved? That or he was too worried about her, seeing as she was at Ghostgate. Clutching his fist together, Thaden put on a straight face, as he always did around others. Approaching the warriors, he posistioned himself in line, returning the nod that his fellow kin had given him.

After a moment of silence, the big dunmer who stood beside him broke it. " I've heard rumors, Cousin, that we are going to take the fight into one of those Gates soon." His voice was obviously eager with anticipation, he was looking forward to avenging the many friends of his that died already in the battle. "And from there we will find a way to close the portal for good, or slaughter every last one of them in their own home."

Thaden couldn't help but chuckle internally at this man. He possessed the fighting spirit all Redoran had in their hearts, and one could easily tell by looking into his eyes, how eager he was to charge at the enemy. Nodding again at him, Thaden replied,

"Yes, I've heard. I wonder if the deadra inside the gate are any more vicious than the ones who keep running out of it. But I suppose there's only one way to find out, right?" Thaden smirked slightly as he adjusted his bonemold armor. His armor was a great deal darker than what bonemold armor generally way, though that was how he preffered it.

"But I'm certain we'll give them hell. Our fallen brethren must be avenged, and we have to strike fear into their hearts, like they have done to our people."

Ghostgate.

The battle at Ghostgate had reached its climix. It was an all or nothing fight for the defenders who kept on fighting with great vigor. Decapitated heads, broken weapons and fallen bodies laid spread across the ground, blood had soaked the soil, making it a deep dark red, matching the furious sky above them. Animals in the area had run away, and any travellers who were in range to spot the sky, had screamed their head off, before doing the same.

Theloria continued to lead the archers, but it would not take long before their arrows would run out. And when they did...the deadra would have a dangerously big advantage. Cursing out loud as an arrow from a dremora forced it's way through the side of her armor, and thus hitting her skin, Theloria dropped to her knees in pain. The arrow was laced with posion, thus causing far more pain that it normally would.

The dremora drew up another arrow, intent on finishing off the priestess. As luck would have it, he did not have the chance, for an ebony arrow was quickly fired at his throat, ending his life. Theloria looked up at Nadena, who lowered herself to the diviners level. Studying her wound, Nadena cried out,

"My lady! Please lie down, you must be healed of this wound before it turns worse."

Theloria did not seem to like this answer, if she lied down now, she would more than likely doze off. Instead, she shook her head firmly at the curate, as she pulled out a small, purple pouch attached to her side.

"Here. These are mugwort seeds, they can heal most non-lethal wounds at an astonishing rate. I save them for battles. Take one, crush it with your fingers and dab it onto my wound. I will more than likely scream...but it will help." Theloria handed one of the tiny seeds to Nadena, who did as she was told.

Closing her eyes as she prepared herself for the pain, Theloria did indeed scream, and the area around her wound began to sting tremendously. Having no time to let her body rest, the priestess got back up on her feet, using her longbow to help her. But her body was weak, and it did not take long before her body collapsed, and her mind drifted off into unconciousness.
Thaden...you better be there waiting for me when I return, I need you.


OOC: Editing my post, forget that the Buoyant Armigers ever entered the oblivion gate.

IC:

Inner Sea

The misty waters seperating the island of Solsthiem from Vvardenfell was a mockery to the icy grasp that was a harbinger to every Nord's heart. The same cold that ushered the Nords to throw the Dark Elves into the same icy throes and send them to the maws of oblivion, to sithis, to perdition. Harald the Red's vessel, a Dragon Ship, a Drekkar, by the name of Lauss Angr sat at the head of the fleet. A collection of Snekkes, Roskildes and Knarrs all carrying their collective crews, all battle hungry and greed thirsty. The churls rode packed in amongst the Snekkes and Roskildes while the Huskarl's rode amongst the Knarrs with their mountain horses or on the Lauss Angr.

The Redoran Coast lay somewhere in the distance, it would only be a matter of time before Harald's navigator spotted the lighthouse at Khuul and land on the shores of Vvardenfell. To revive an ancient feud almost lost in memory, time and tale. This new enterprise in which Harald was about to embark would become something sung about through the next age and the next, until man dwindled into nothing but dust and the gods had their way with Nirn.

Harald stood, his long green cape followed the southern gusts that carried the sails of the ships. He was tall, even amongst Nords, his men however didn't shy away from their leader. They embraced him, he was their guide through oblivion and would keep them alive at all costs.

His icy blue eyes strained into the mist, the lanterns marking each ship only barely visible.

"It's time..."

The quiet words were heard by everyone, and soon the Morrowind sun began to burn away at the mist.

Jagged and desolate rocks speared up from the water in front of them, producing narrow waterways to the coast. The navigators quickly addjusted course, their orders pleading double time, directions and harsh language. All Harald could do was smile, his captains would see him on shore. If his ship could navigate the volcanic shallows, the Snekkes surely could.

A fishing boat, a one or maybe two man boat could be seen retreating into the distance. Surely far from both Khuul and Ald Velothi, whether either was their target would be unknown to the Redoran before the last moment. Harald prayed they guessed wrong. The fisherman would make it to shore long before the Nords did, and Harald didn't regret it either. He liked a fight, and so did all of the men tailing the Lauss Angr.

It was about to begin.

OOC: Sorry, but I'll have to drop out of this RP for an unspecified amount of time, due to my problems at home.

OOC: ANOUNCEMENT:Everybody read this post, even if you're not Hlaalu and dont care for Hlaalu. Its important.


Ebonheart

The Duke listened to the Nord speak, catching a few crude glimpses, he felt his blood boil at this, that the Nord would be so daring to try and hide his feelings of the Hlaalu and expect Dren not to see them. He had worked in politics all his life, body language, among other things, where easy.

"Don't be so presumptuous as to assume that I am not a man of honour, it may be rare that I don ebony plate and wield ebony blade. But I assure you, I am a capable warrior and if you so much as dare suggest otherwise, I shall be honour bound to prove it." Dren ranted, his face glowing hot as his blood pressure met the same height as his indignity. "I will not accept a single word of disdain on my house, true we are sly and we are cunning. We are intelligent and shrewd. But we are strong and all these qualities make us a better warriors for it.

"You wonder why I am not sending my own warriors in to die? Yes I know you are. Because I am not a fool, you plan to fight them in their own dominion? We have not seen such a hellish place. For all we know it could lead to a killing field of daedric demons and beast. We need all the men of strength and intelligence here where the people are, to defend the people. The population of Vvardenfell is of utmost priority to me, even before my own house, without warriors. Who will protect them?"


He opened his mouth showing every sign that he was going to carry on with his rant, but was distracted for the first time. The entire office lit up, no shadows could be seen from any object. The Redoran servants all stared out of the window in disbelief.

A four beams of fire like light could be seen from the Window behind him, they where in the distance, to the north and to the north east. Each beam spiralled and danced around each other, accompanied by what looked like ash and soil. They carried on moving up until they met the gods, they then joined together as the rest of the light broke away from the ground and followed their body to the large orb of fire now growing in the sky.

Clouds came out of no where, swirling downward like the most fierce twister, surrounding the fire from the gates. Casting all of Vvardenfell into a fulminating darkness. Dren carried on staring, wide eyed and open mouthed, at the calamity that seemed to be forming before him.

Everything stilled for a few seconds, the clouds now surrounding the fire stopped moving. Drens heart stopped beating and the air around him stood stiff still.

The castle walls themselves began to shake as the fire exploded into a nova like torrent of fire, sending out a ring across the skies. Expelling the dust clouds from the sky. Everything looked normal again, the way it did before. The sun warmed the land, the sky was cloudless above them.


"I think, that our nightmares are over here. I think the gates have just closed." Dren spoke, still facing the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "Or, our nightmares haven't even started yet." He added to himself in a dark whisper.


OOC: For all who didn't realised, all the gates are now closed. It is for us (Immortal Story and Myself, aka the moderators.) To decide where the gates are, until we find a Daedric general capable of the job any way.

Don't open any more gates unless you've had permission.

OOC: Sorry I couldn't post yesterday. On Sundays I never have the time to get on the computer because I am always busy as I am out. Oh and Baladas shall be along shortly. He is a little old you see, takes him time

IC:

Sadrith Mora

Athyn stood on deck of the Northern Light and watched as the city came in view and slowly got closer. "Land ahead Master" the Captain shouted towards him as he steered the ship towards the port. Athyn mearly nodded as he squinted his eyes towards some of the ships in port, of particular notice was one he recognised as one of the Masters, it was the Polar Star, which belonged to Mistress Dratha. So she takes the time to show up even though she clearly knows that men shall be there, a miracle to be sure. Turning around he walked to his servant leaning over the railing staring out to sea, it was the same one who delivered the letter to Aryon to start the meeting.
"You know your orders yes?" he asked him from behind, the servant jumped but tryed to keep his composure as he replied
"Oh, yes Master I won't fail you"
"Good, carry on" Athyn bluntly replied as he turned back to where he was stood. A few minutes later the ship docked and people were frantically running around carrying out there orders. Amidst the chaos Athyn and three of his highest wizards disembarked and headed to the Gateway. "You know today is a special day, even if no co-operation is made at the meeting it shall be remembered as the day councillors actually used the council hall. No Master has ever stood in the building" he spoke as he raised his hands to open the grand doorway, flanked on both sides by two guardsmen who bowed to the wizards and Master "It could also be remembered for other things. A day of change perhaps? Who knows what words shall be spoken within its hall, yet it shall be interesting to say the least"

Looking up, Arsayn was forced to shield his eyes from the sun. The sun. It was back. The blue skies were back. Everything was normal again up above, only the surface of Nirn was a living hell still. But with sun shining to their backs, the Redoran felt spurred onwards, their spirits rising. The infernal Gate was gone, and the Daedra were trapped at the mercy of the Redoran without reinforcements... Finally, it was a fair fight, one that they could easily win. The young Dunmer's heart fluttered again at this thought - he realized, he would not die today. ALMSIVI had not willed his death, and he would fight another day, another week, another month, maybe another year, even. They only had a simple battle to win; even though their opponent was otherworldly, had they not showed that the House Redoran could stand true at endless hordes of the Daedra? There was no reason why victory should not come now.

"ABARWEZIH!" Unable to contain his joy and lust for victory, Arsayn yelled out once again, this time not in a fit of blind madness, but with a clear head. He was young, his voice strong, and with the chaos of combat stilled for a moment, his voice rolled down the barricades; 'victory', it said those who knew the old tongue, and those who did not, saw it was an echo of the past, the glorious past of House Redoran, who stood still against many an opponent, be they Nords, Cyrodiilians or treacherous other Houses. "ABARWEZIH!" He yelled out again; his voice drowned in the noises of reasumed combat this time. The sea of Daedra moved forth again, however with less determination this time; it splashed against the barricades like a wave against a centuries-old rock, each Redoran, Mer or Man, figthing with twice as much determination as before...

His shashka was beginning to get blunter and blunted with every blow he delivered, however Arsayn did not stop, cutting into every daedroth within reach, fighting with every resource he had available. His iron muscles were beginning to grow weary, yet inspired by the image of his ancestors, the young warrior was completely sure he'd last until the end of the battle, even though he had fought since the beginning of this assault.

Outskirts of Ald Ruhn

An amazed Ferther, fully clad in Gah Julan armor cheered along with Arsayn. The sky had cleared, the gate had crumbled...and a fierce explosion from the sky which only meant that the heavens had communed, and found this battle unfitting.

"ABARWEZIH!"

"KOGO REDORAN! ALD RUHN, our KOGORUHN!"

"Thrust!" the battle shouts of the Arenim family, the Arobar clan, the Redoran retainer warriors, the elite soldiers of Morrowind, it had filled the area in a deafening noise.

Those at Buckmoth would hear their victory, a battle won without any help from them.

Legionnaires...the finest soldiers in the world.....

The thought made Ferther laugh, a laugh which became contagious throughout the small army of men. Dressed in bonemold and caped in crimson, vermilion caking there cloth, their skin soaking in sweat and blood.

Beyond a barricade, with only the most pitiful of beasts to face, Great House Redoran knew that the day had been won. They had defended their home, and were attempting to prepare for a mission in which they would not return.

Ferther turned to Thaden, patted him on the back and laughed heartily, only a hardened veteran could laugh like such on the battlefield. Only won who had faced death, and come out on top.

"After you are rested, and settle matters with your family. You are to go to Ghostgate, bring a report of their situation. Go to the Ald Skar, pick up drinks. 4 Arenim retainers will assist you."

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Ebonheart

Sathryn watched in quiet discomfort. The view out of the council's window was one of the grandest and most terrible, enraptured by the beauty, the Arch master found himself in silence a few moments after Dren spoke and noted that Ald Ruhn was one of the areas hit by the flame. The distance from the window showed that no extensive damage had been caused to any areas, and the crimson had disappeared from the sky.

The Duke's guess may have been right. And it seemed to be the only feasible conclusion as to the celestial event they had just witnessed.

Softly, and calmly he began to speak, "Nothing had been finished yet...the flame still surrounds this island." he pointed out, towards the sea south of Ebonheart, of which the tower they were in had an excellent view.

The ocean, seemingly unbothered, had some sort of mystical flame rising from the ocean floor, and fifty meters above. That was the work of the Daedra.

The Head of Clan Redoran spoke again, trying to shrug off the supernatural events which he just witnessed, and finding it hard to keep a calm composure.

"Admiral, you may be on to something. And the Duke has a point as well. In order to prevent widespread panic, we must do our best to maintain order, and in doing so our Houses must remain in a natural balance. If all Redoran are off to war, their will be none to protect our cities, or police the citizens. I suggest that while we each expend what we can afford to in order to defend in case this crisis arises, we each dedicate some our best and brightest, solely to fighting these gates. From the Imperial behalf this would be Mages Guild, experts on Daedric gates and knowledge, and their finest spellcasters. I can afford to dedicate some of Redoran's most skilled warriors, and perhaps with some convincing, I can meet with the Arch Canon. We'd get some scholars from the Temple, in Daedra, their knowledge is unrivaled. Hlaalu I'm sure would be able to expend agents, there is no doubt about it that we'd need a proper financier, I would be willing to aid in what can be afforded." He was going out on a limb here, and wouldn't expect Telvanni or Hlaalu to cooperate, but at least he tried to keep the people and Morrowind protected to the best of his ability.

Perhaps he would be surprised.

Even if the Imperials were the only ones in agreement, they would be a great aid in assembling of a crisis team.

"On my honor, and my House's Honor. This proposal is sincere, and true."

Fort Buckmoth

Decius watched as the Legionnaire took another failed shot at a scamp far down range. His arrows were falling well short of the demon, and Decius could imagine it laughing at them. "That's enough. You're never going to hit it like that."

The Legionnaire turned to look at him and replied, "Oh yeah, well why don't you give it a shot. You'll probably shoot farther off the mark than I am."

Decius snorted, but obliged and drew his bow and an arrow. He lifted it up and took aim at the demon. The Legionnaire was probably right, there was no way he could hit that target. Just as he was about to try though, a great blast of fire like light shined brightly across the sky. He dropped his bow and went running for Malinus's office. Surely he would want to know what was happening. He raced across the walls and through the corridors, and finally reached his office just as a great quake shook the entire fort. "Sir, something's happening out there."

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"Gee, you think so?"

Malinus looked from the form of Decius in the hallway and back to the spilled bottle of brandy on his desk. He sighed mournfully and couldn't help but think that he was going to miss that bottle. It had been his last one. He rose quickly and walked straight past Decius and towards the walls. Decius was walking behind him, but was struggling to keep pace with his fast, long strides. When he reached the walls, he came across a wonderful sight. Clear skies.

It took him a moment to realize that everyone was staring up at the sky. Then a great cheer went through the ranks and he could hear Decius mumble something about House Redoran and everything being over. So he thinks Redoran beat the Daedra, eh? No, I don't believe it for a moment. This isn't over. No war ever ends this easily, especially one with creatures like the Daedra. He looked down at the ground where he had had men digging pits and filling them with spikes. He had opted for that instead of trenches, because with half his men in Caldera, he didn't have the necessary manpower to garrison trenches and the walls. So he had decided to put everyone he could on the walls, dig spike pits outside the fort, and leave the rest of his men at the main gate in case of an attack. Now, they had all stopped digging and some were even heading back into the fort, as if some explosion in the sky meant that their work was over.

He leaned over the wall and shouted down to them, "What do you Legionnaires think you're doing. Get back to work immediately! I want those defenses in place by the end of the day, or so help me, I'll ensure that not a one of you gets paid this month!"

He could feel Decius staring at his back and knew moments before it happened what he was going to say. "Sir, don't you think we should dismantle the defenses and remove the men from Caldera? It's over, it seems obvious."

Malinus rounded on the trooper and trapped him in a fierce stare. "No, it's not over. Not yet. They'll come again, I know it. The men will stay in Caldera, the defenses will be built, and if I hear you question my orders in front of the men again, then I'll have you down there digging with the recruits, do you hear me Trooper?"

"Yes sir." Decius then walked farther down the wall, but he could hear him mumbling about him being "overly pessimistic." Under most other circumstances, he would have reprimanded him for it, but he let it go this time. The men may gripe now, but when his pessimism paid off, they would thank him for the help against the Daedric horde.