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 (Led by Storyteller): 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 (Led by ImmortalBlood): 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 (DarkNova): 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 Spicer the Scout): 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://www.uesp.net/w/images/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.

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:

Faction statistics:

Redoran has around 10 members
Telvanni has 6 or 7
Hlaalu has 5 or 6

The Legion has 3 or so as well as the Temple.

So i've decided to open up the Mages Guild. I decided on them because of their in depth relationship with the other factions (for better or for worse) and i'd like someone interested RPing the NPC leader (along with their own personal character) for an in depth well written perspective from this Guild. I need people with good insight and experience at the relationships of the Mages Guild both inside and out.

NEW ANNOUNCEMENT:

I'm opening up the Nords. They'll be led by Heldwyn. Basically they are Nord raiders from Skyrim that got caught up in the "circle" and are stationed on Solsthiem. They'll be doing typical nordic raiding etc that can be a thorn in anyone's side or an asset if you hire them (if they agree to the pay.)

Faction and Rank: Great House Redoran - Retainer

Name: Katja the Determined - Kat for short.

Race: Nord

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Birthsign: The Tower

Physical description: Katja stands just over 6 foot 3, taller than most of the men she works with as a Retainer for Great House Redoran. Despite the well defined muscles on her arms and legs and wide shoulders, it's not to say she has an ill-proportioned frame with an ample bust and an athletic, curvy figure. Katja would never be called beautiful but that's not to say she isn't pretty with long bright blonde hair tied into a large plait running halfway down her back, almond shaped moss green eyes and an attractive but steely face with a strong jaw, sharp nose and full lips.

Short History: Katja was born in Skyrim to a middle class family with her father as a travelling merchant and mother a barmaid. Katja left Skyrim when she 15 with her father and travelled Morrowind for several years until her father passed away from a heart attack and Katja decided to stay. Opting to put her natural talent of strength and determination to use, she eventually became a foreign Retainer for the Great House Redoran and sailed to Vvardenfell where she works in Ald' Ruhn.

About the character: Kat has a habit of rubbing the people the wrong way, hence why she's stayed as a Retainer for several years now. Some people think she doesn't believe in diplomacy or comprimise, something that made her at home among her stubborn Redoran colleagues. When she has an opinion, she's likely to voice it no matter the consequences. That being said, she does however have an avid appreciation for the chain of command among the Great House Redoran and since being accepted into their ranks has followed the unofficial mandate of the Redoran; Duty, Gravity and Piety. Skilled with a sword, bow and trained in a basic, yet effective brawling style of Martial Arts common among the lowlier ranks of Redoran, Kat is a mean fighter but has no grasp of magicka or the more complicated arithmetic and sciences. Kat is known for her determined, steely and occasionally cold personality, but still enjoys a nice goblet of wine and roll in the hay every once in a while, to put it nicely.

Weapons: Tempered steel broadsword: Nothing remarkable other than it was a gift from her father before he died. An Ash recurved Bow, short to medium range complete with a hip quiver of a dozen or more arrows. She also carries a small steel dagger on her person.

Armor/Clothing: Katja finds herself more at ease in tight but unobtrusive leathers, rather than the encumbering heavy armour usually worn by Redoran recruits. A pair of deep red thigh boots accompanied by a relatively short green cotton skirt, close-fitting leather hauberk and a pair of dark brown leather vambraces. She usually wears her broadsword on a homemade leather harness on her back, where she also keeps her bow.

Misc. Items: Kat has few personal items from her past, as either she doesn't see the point in them, or she simply doesn't have anything to remember her past by. She carries around necessities such as water, rations, utensils around in a rucksack while traveling, which is usually stored away while at home or in camp. The only thing of note she carries around is a small leatherbound journal and a mysterious shard of metal bound onto a necklace that she never wears.

OOC: So, shouldn't I wait for approval or something before I post an IC Immortalblood?

Faction and Rank. Legion, Centurion

Name. Proximo Calidus

Race. Imperial

Age. 35

Birthsign. The Warrior

Physical Description. Standing around 6ft, Proximo stands slighty taller then the average Imperial. His lean, muscular body is covered in scars, some large, others small, with the most noticeable being the jagged scar that starts by his left eye and ends on his chin, marring his once handsome face. His jet black hair is cropped short, more for function then beauty. His dark green eyes always seem very perceptive and acute peering out from his sunkissed face.

Bio. Born to a poor family in Bravil, Proximo left home at fourteen to help provide for his starving mother and two young sisters. He joined up soon after with the legions, acting as a messenger in the trenchs at first, then as a soldier later when he turned eighteen. For twenty two years he carried his emperors banner in nearly every province, from the bitter cold of Skyrim, to the gnat infested swamps of the Black Marsh, fighting and climbing through the ranks. At the moment, he is stationed in Morrowind at Fort Moonmoth, charged with keeping Balmora and the House Hlaalu nobles that reside there safe during the crisis.

About the character.Duty and honor. If there was only two words that could describe the Centurion, these would be it. Having spent most of his life in the Legions, he has learned alot about both and holds these ideals high above most else. He is also a strict man, enforcing military rules to the letter with his men, although he deepy cares for everyone under his command. Although very capable with a sword and shield, Proximo would rather solve any problems with the locals using words and tactics, unsheathing his gladius only as the last resort.

Armor. Standard issue armor for the legionaires serving in Morrowind. The only difference in his armor compared to the soldiers serving under him is his black cape with the emperors dragon symbol on the back in crimson red.

Weapons. A fine steel gladius and a steel tipped spear made of hickory.

Misc Items. A scrimshawed pipe made of ebony, a small wooden box that contains his tobacco, a map of Morrowind, a bag of septims, and a ring that resist's poison and disease 75%.

NPC
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Vedam_Dren

Non-NPC




Sheet two.




Sheet three

NPC: http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Baladas_Demnevanni_%28person%29

Non-NPC:

Faction and Rank: Telvanni Master

Name: Athyn Drelos

Race: Dunmer

Gender: Male

Age: 200 Dunmer Years

Birthsign: The Mage

Physical description: 5"9 and weighing about 110 ibs, a man who looks wise and mysterious. His face is lightly wrinkled, a sign of his age and wisdom that comes with it. He has an average frame like most people with average muscularity, although there is no need for it in this mans case. He has long greying hair that hangs loosely by the side of his face and a short grey goatee around his mouth. His dark red eyes look as though they could see into the very heart and soul of a man.

Short History: It didn't take much for this man to become a Telvanni Master. He had the skills to match, perhaps better even. Not much is known of this mans past or present, he just appeared one day and the next he was a Telvanni of high rank. However, unlike many of the current Masters of the house, he has ambition and ideas. Some could call him an upstart but others could call him a revolutionary.

About the character: He is a wizard of great power, typical of any Telvanni with authority. His mastery of the schools of Destruction and Conjuration is beyond compare and his use of Alteration, Mysticism and Illusion is most wise. Enchanting and Alchemy are also used by the wizard, although not as often or efficiently as the others.

Weapons: A small enchanted Elven Blade hidden by his robes that could poison a man with a single cut.

Armor/Clothing: When first seen, you will see his enchanting long blue robes that touch the floor, golden trimmed on the sides to give a most elegant appearence. Underneath he wears a typical nobleman outift common in Morrowind consisting of a blue silk top and pants and golden trimmed black shoes. His belt under his robes holsters his blade which is never seen and rarely needed.

Misc. Items: Nothing is needed but his mind.

A solitary figure stood upon the slick stone walls that made up Fort Moonmoth, his black cape dancing in the breeze behind him as he looked towards the west. His beatiful green orbs scanned the roads leading to Balmora, one of his many concerns of late, thanks mostly to the crisis that was haunting the island. Grey tendrils of smoke, that smelt faintly of vanilla and other rare spices, snaked their way around his head as he slowly removed the pipe from his lips. Where are they at?

Ever since the crisis started and daedra sightings had become common place, Proximo worried about sending the men under his command out on patrols. He didn't like it one bit, but that was part of his job and theirs. Just yesterday, a spider daedra was spotted on the outskirts of the city, and although quickly put down by the experianced legionaires, could have just been the tip of the iceberg.

Slowly, a trail of dust began to rise up in the distance, and moments later, bright gleams could be seen as the midday rays beat down upon polished helms. A smile spread across the Centurions face as he saw all twelve that was sent out come into view, looking no worse for wear. Spinning quickly, he descended the stairs, meeting them at the massive wooden gates.

" Good to see you back, lieutenant. What is your report? " Proximo said with a smile, patting the young breton on the shoulder, which resulted in a coating of dust and ash to rise into the air in a small cloud. He offered the man a canteen full of water, which he quickly took, gulping down a mouthfull before splashing the rest on his dirty, sweaty face.

" All went well, sir. We extended the patrol an extra mile around the city as you commanded and all was clear. Sorry we took as long as we did, sir, but that terrain is terrible to march in. " The lieutenant said with a smile as he looked over to the group of legionaires that continued to stream into the fort, each one giving Proximo a small salute as they marched by.

" That is good news, lieutenant. We will continue to extend the patrol out until the crisis is over though, so get use to it. Anyways, what about the city? "

" As good as you can expect, sir. With the Crisis looming over us, daedra pouring out of the portals to slaughter everyone, and all the Dragonborn dead, the civilains are in a state of panic. Most wont leave their homes, which is a good thing I suppose since marshall law is in effect. It makes our job of keeping them safe that much easier. " The breton continued, wiping the mixture of water and sweat from his face with a dirty cloth.

Proximo gently nodded his head, showing that he understood.If he only knew how grim the situation is. All ways off this damn island is cut off, we are spread thin with no way of reinforcements reaching us, and rations will run low sooner or later. Dark times are ahead, I just hope we can last. After a moment of deep though, Proximo quickly broke away from those disturbing thoughts and flashed the young officer a smile. " You did good, lieutenant. After knowing your father, I wouldn't expect anything less. Now go and get something to eat and some rest, you'll need it soon. "

" Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. " Was all that the legionaire said before he quickly picked up his tower shield and jogged away, moving to catch up with the rest of his patrol that was headed to the mess halls.

NPC

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Athyn_Sarethi
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Varvur_Sarethi

PC

Ebonheart

"You seem tense." a soft spoken voice gently drifted through the air accompanied by a soothing melodic sound. "What ails you grandmaster?"

The mist that accompanies dawn was lifting on the sunlit streets of Ebonheart, the population was awake and oblivious to their rulers worries, scuttling about bellow going about their daily business. The view from his window was quite a spectacle, The vast streets framed perfectly between the tall buildings surrounding them and the distant horizon.

Dren sat down, leaning into the overstuffed leather armchair. Quite a comfortable throne but if you wanted to get business done you would have to neglect it from fear of falling asleep. His face in the clammy palms of his hands, the rough skin rubbing against his eye sockets. He hadn't slept for days, fatigue was beginning to be a worthy adversary.

"Such a delicate thing the world we live in." He muttered, to himself more than anything. "We remove one thing, soon it is replaced by another, We bleed out the corrupt traitors and soon they are replaced."

"Grandmaster?" Sadie asked, sat with one leg over the other on the large council table in front of her, leaning back on the two rear legs of her chair. delicate fingers plucked the different strings in her harp, releasing a morose song of past and present sadness. She usually played cheerful songs. But this day called for something soothing. "What is it?"

"I cannot sleep, for days I have been shaken out of my lull by the rough hands of nightmares. The dream weaver does not smile upon me it seems." He replied, his palms together clasping each other, elbows on the table supporting his tiered head. "What news from Balmora?"

"All is well for the moment, negotiations with the temple are civil but the outcome does not look good, we where lucky for an audience with them apparently."

Dren wistfully eyed doorway at the far end of the room, tempted to simply bolt out and make his way to a warm merciful bed. Instead he dipped an eagle feather quill, with a golden tip into a pot of ink. A gift from an imperial acquaintance. Holding the quill above the pot to let the excess ink drip away, he began writing in a beautifully flowing series of letters and symbols. He sat in silence, save from Sadies music, writing for the best part of ten minutes. He finally rested the feather quill in its perch on his desk. Watching as his signature soaked into the scroll of parchment. Sadie watched as he gently folded the paper, holding a candle over it and dripping wax on the seal of the envelope when he finished.

"I want you to take this to a runner and have it delivered to Balmora, it is to go to the head of the proceedings and no one else, Understood?" He said, his voice firm and commanding as he pushed the house seal into the wax and held the letter out for Sadie.

Two heavy thuds cut off the harmonic noise of the harp as she dropped her heavy boots to the floor and added a third thud as she let the chair stand on all four legs.

Dren let his hand drop to the table as she took the letter, watching her light frame as she left the room. He carried on staring at the door she walked through for several seconds before snapping himself out of it and shuffling the papers before him, starting the painstaking task of reading each torturous fatigue inducing word in turn.


He managed maybe a paragraph before his head began to lull, his chin bouncing off his chest as his head bobbed between wanting to sleep and wanting to wake. Doors slamming and the noise of heated debate growing closer snapped him out of it. His eyes flashing upwards at the door opposite him as it swung open without invitation.

"Grand master Dren, I'm afraid I cannot allow this girl to send a runner at this moment in time." An imperial officer spoke, holding a hand up as Sadie showed every sign of interrupting. Dren raised an eyebrow, his forehead creasing over his left eye.

"And why my good man, is that?" He asked, a voice of mock curiosity masking his frustration.

"Imperial marshal law Sir." He replied solemnly, wiping a small amount of sweat from his upper lip.

"What is this nonsense? No such order would be given without my knowledge, what crisis could be-foul Vvardenfell enough to cause such measures to be put in place?" He asked, his voice growing steadily louder as he stood up slamming a clenched fist onto the table, his armchair sliding backwards toward the wall.

"It's absurd Vaden, it's some plot put into place by the rival houses im sure, he's simply been bribed to talk utter nonsense." Saddie fired up, on hand moving animatedly with her words, as if dancing to her melodic sing song like voice.

"I think you may want to sit down, have a drink." The imperial spoke, retrieving a bottle of brandy from a side table and pouring a sizable amount before handing it to Dren, who some what resented being offered a seat in his own chambers, let alone being offered his own brandy. He relented and sat down, swilling the contents of his glass but not drinking it. "You see, the island is indeed in peril, we have spotted Daedra roaming the wilderness, many of the main travel routes have been cut off, we are unable to communicate with several settlements at this time, including the main land and all over provinces, for all we know, Vvardenfell is the last bastion of life in Tamriel."

Dren started at the man for several moments then at Sadie, who merely shrugged with an expression of utter incredulity upon her delicate features.

"Some Telvanni daedra has escaped its trappings, so what? Why should house Hlaalu be effected by their less than ordered way of controlling their own?"

"It's much more than that Sir, If you would like to follow me." He replied, still stood stiff straight, his voice matching his posture perfectly. Dren held his hands out and looked at Sadie questioningly, she answered with the same shrug and expression. Giving up he stood and waved the imperial on, following him closely behind, Sadie hot on their heels.

He led them around the opposite side of the building into another room, a similar size to Dren's own, a large amount of light could be seen on the horizon from the window.

"That appeared the same time as Daedra where reported in the area, we have reports that gates have opened deep in the wilderness but as of yet we haven't been able to confirm locations. We're trapped on the Island with less forces than we would like."

Vaden stared at the light on the horizon for the longest of moments, his hand shaking violently, spilling half of the contents of the glass on the floor, without warning he screamed, throwing the glass at the wall and turning to a desk and tipping it over before launching a chair into the glass separating him from the fire.

He watched as it obeyed the laws of gravity and fell to the floor, smashing apart and splintering into hundreds of pieces, he rounded onto the two behind him, the imperial looked notably uncomfortable with the display of emotion, Sadie however nearly jumped backwards as he looked at her with fierce rage.

"I want you to send the highest ranking imperial officer to my office right away, No delays whatsoever, I don't care if he has to baby sit the emperors future heirs, He see's me first." He shouted, his finger beating into the imperials chest with each word before turning on Sadie. "And You, I want a full damage report, I want to know which of our trade routes are disrupted and which arent, I want to know if any sources of our resources are lost or damaged, go. Now."

Without another question they both left the room, almost fighting over the door handle in their attempt to escape. Dren immediately sank into a chair, picking up a heavy crystal glass of brandy from some one else's cabinet and neglecting some one else's glass, He drank deeply for several seconds before wiping his mouth and placing his face back onto his palms then running them through his hair in frustration.

Sadene

Sadie quickly overtook the Imperial in her race to escape Dren's wrath, bolting through the corridors at high speed. Slowing down only when she was a floor bellow. She had always resented being ordered about, but she could live with it if it bettered her house and career. Her ultimate goals where not far from her grasp with such a powerful political activist as her ally.

The halls echoed morosely as she walked through, the dark windowless corners spreading a feeling of depression throughout the building.

"Orders from Dren." She spoke quickly to a dunmer in a pale blue dress with long red hair tied and plaited. "We are to send a runners out with the next patrol team, they are to separate and go with other patrols as they meet them. They will survey all out properties mines and trade routes, everything must be inspected. We want a full report on any damage sustained to the houses economy. And deliver this letter to the proceedings in Balmora." she finished, the dunmer looked a little taken aback but took it in her stride.

Sadi watched her rush off before turning on her heel and heading for the buildings entrance to await the imperial officed Dren requested.

OOC: DarkNova, that would be you.

Some where in Vvardenfell

The guar pumped forward steadily gaining momentum as its muscular legs pushed its burden forward. The dust an ash beneath its feet jumping into plooms of hazy clouds behind it. A lone travelor could be seen in the distance, running for his life. A group of foul beasts upon his tail.

Tora released a beastial scream as he got closer, the daedra faltered and reacted, turning to their new threat rather than their defenceless prey. There where three in total, two bald creatures, no bigger than a bosmer, malnourished and thin. The other, was something more horrific, A creature on four legs, a large snarling face with a long hanging tongue flapping from it, dripping saliva onto the parched dry floor.

The Guar skidded to a halt, Tora slid off and ran forward as the Guar fled from the Daedra. He carried on screaming his war scream, he tried to disorientate them but it didn't work, They where creatures of little intelligence, Fear was not in their vocabulary.

His Naginata sliced through the dust filled air toward the first of the scamps, It never reached its desired destination. The tongue of the snarling beast to his left shot out and wrapped around his weapon. Tora moved his head back as the end of the tongue split open, revealing a row of razor sharp needle like teeth.

He was forced to retreat backwards, fighting with the creatures grip on his weapon as its companions began to approach, each with smiles on their faces which would strike the hope from any mans heart. Tora's free hand moved slowly toward the blade at the end, watching the daedra for any sign of danger. He quickly twisted the blades handle and released it from the Ebony pole.

One of the scamps rushed forward, swinging its spindly spider like hands at Tora. He was turely a sight to behold, wrestling one daedra while fending off two more with his blade, both arms stretched wide, his feet digging into the ground for support. The scamp carried on swinging wildly, each time its deformed hand met ebony blade, each time black liquid spewed forth, not like the blood of normal men, it was a tar like substance which fell to the floor in thick globs.

It didn't relent however, Tora battled as best he could with one hand, still trying to recover the rest of his naginata from the tongue of the snarling beast. He managed to fell one scamp, but at the cost of his only weapon. It fell backwards as Tora's blade plunged into its chest, He let go of the blade as he rushed to avoid a ball of fire thrown by the other scamp.

"Give up!" He screamed at the creature, which merely displayed its lack of understanding as it shot another blast of fire at him. Tora had to crouch low to avoid it, he was quickly losing his centre of gravity and with it his balance, he reacted quickly to make the best of a bad moment.

Pushing his heels into the ground, he leaned back, supported by the beasts tongue and pushed with his legs in on fluid motion. They moved backwards quickly, the Beast dragged by Tora. It began to screech as the scamps spell hit the overlong tongue, the remainder of which was dripping the black blood furiously on the floor, black and singed. Tora quickly jumped upward, recovering his blade and tossing the severed tongue aside.

He quickly did an assesment, right now the biggest threat was the scamp, the other was distracted. He rushed forward, hitting the scamp in the chest with the end of the pole, dazing it. It screamed in fury as Tora's blade cleaved through the top of its cranium, lopping off the top half of its head.

It carried on to live however, clawing at Tora's torso furiously for a few seconds before keeling over, the black bubbeling mess that was its brain falling out onto the dusty floor as its head dropped.

He was transfixed for several seconds before remembering the final task, the tongue creature behind him, he rejoined the blade to its body and rushed forward, holding the Naginata at a forty five degree angle as he span clockwise, bringing it down in a fluid circular motion, removing the beasts head completely.

"Are you ok?" Tora called to an exhausted looking dunmer, he was sitting on the floor, his face had every possible look of fear and panic etched deeply into it. He was staring over Tora's shoulder at the creature he had just bested, his eyes wide and unbelieving.

The Khajiit slowly turned, to meet the creatures better half. It had turned around to reveal an even more ferocious face on its back, large dagger like teeth threatening to grant Tora a most painful death.

It lunged forward, catching Tora off guard, his weapon fell from his hands as it launched him onto its back, the snarling face of the daedra met the snarling tiger like khajiits, both inches apart. Tora battler furiously, pushing against the creature with both hands trying to lift it from atop of him.

Blood began to fall to the floor next to Tora's head, the beast stopped moving, Tora pushed it off him to see a most peculiar sight. The dunmer was holding his Naginata like an javeling, the blade covered in the daedric blood.

"Thank you." Tora gasped, accepting his hand gratefully as he got up.

"No, I thank you." The dunmer replied, handing Tora the naginata carefully. "You save my life without second thought, most would have fled while the Daedra here distracted."

"Most maybe, Some, maybe not." Tora replied solemly. "Where are you heading?"

"Balmora, it's not far from here." He replied, gathering his dropped items from the floor where he fell. Tora saw nothing of immediate value, but perhaps sentimental in value.

"I will travel with you, It is not safe alone on these roads and I have no destination in mind." Tora replied, walking beside him.

"You have no destination? How can that be?" He asked, turning to Tora curiously.

"I am a Nomad traveller, I travel where there are things to be done and knowledge to learn."

The dunmer chewed the words curiously, thinking on what he was told before smiling and patting Tora on the back. From then the travelled in silence under the relentless sun.

Vivec

Faint white smoke began to rise in spiralling tendrils before Almerions eyes. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, covering every bit of exposed flesh to block out the sun, earning himself a few queer looks from passers by, All of whom where dressed for the warmest of days.

He had not intended to stalk the streets of the city during the day, but his last hide out was sniffed out by prying tong dogs. Each step brought a new shock wave of pain through his body as his skin, now brittle and dry, began to crack and blister under the continuous strain of movement.

Finally, he saw his prey. All his hunting was over as he approached, trying as hard as possible to stick to the shadows, his eyes glued to the Inn's sign. The crippling pain subsided somewhat as he entered, to be replaced by a throbbing pulsating pain. It was more bearable, but only just. He had to feed soon if he was to be moving out in the open like that.

"Room for one please." He said horsely, his voice surprised even himself, he sounded like a man who'd been walking the deserts of Tamriel for days without water. It wasn't far from the truth in this case. He dropped a few coins onto the table for the room and watched as the dunmer behind the counter retrieved a room key and placed it on the counter. Almerion wondered if the Dunmer knew of his ailment and was making a joke, for he had placed the key in a small square of sunlight cast onto the counter from the small window in the door.

Almerion simply stood their, staring at the floor, hiding his face from view. He waited a few seconds until the dunmer picked up the key and handed it to him, simply assuming he was either highly ignorant of very oblivious.

He rushed up the stairs, his skin stretched and cracked as his legs bent, causing more waves of pain to flood his body. The room was thankfully out of the gaze of the sun. The shade mercifully cool and soothing. Even so, he closed the curtains and removed his cloak, tossing it over the curtain rail trying his best to block out any light from getting in. A guttered candle burst into life as Almerion held a match to it, casting the room into wavering light and flickering shadows.

Gritting his teeth, eyes tight shut, Almerion began peeling his clothes away from his blistered skin. He stood, completely naked save for his Ebony casing, the skin beneath that was safe. But the rest.. The rest was a grizzly sight.

His chest was black in places, large chunks of what used to be flesh fell away as he brushed it with his fingers. What wasn't black was bright violent red, dry and flaking, covered in cracks and bulbous blisters.

He removed two things from his travel pack. One scroll of silence he was planning to use on his target instead of a gag, and a strong healing potion. He cast the spell onto himself, bracing for what was to come. With some difficulty and resistance from his fingers, he clumsily removed the stopped of the potion bottle and drank it down like a man dying of thirst.

Pale red eyes stared back as he looked into the mirror before clamping tight, mouth thrown wide in a scream which never came. He held the table beneath the mirror for support as the damaged flesh simply fell away, judged unsavable by the magic coursing through his body. The blisters leaked liquid onto the floor and began to tighten back into place, regaining colour and suppleness as they returned to a healthy state. The cracks in his skin knitted back together, pulling tight over his chest before filling with moisture and releasing all tension.

It was over as fast as it happened. Almerion looked into the mirror, he was still red in places but that would go away, the worse part was gone. Sweat dripped from his long nose, realising he was completely drenched he retrieved a cleaning cloth from the side and dried himself as much as possible before re-dressing. All he had to do now was feed.

Redressed and able to move like a normal human again, Almerion left his room, his nose taking in every scent in the hallway, following the strongest and closest to its source. He twisted the handle slowly, then let the door open inch by inch as slowly as possible, thanking Sithis that the barkeep oils the hinges regularly.

Sat on the bed before him was a beautiful naked back of a porcelain skinned Breton with spun gold for hair, she sat combing it, she had evidently just awoken judging from the night gown which had fallen from her torso and was now gathered haphazardly around her hips.

She hummed a sweet tune of love and loss, lamenting yet soothing at the same time. Almerion couldn't help but recognize it as he approached her, each step painstakingly slow. She stopped humming abruptly, frozen solid, her left hand on the back of her head, the right curved around combing the left. He delicate neck exposed almost invitingly.

Her head slowly turned, following the shadow cast by Almerion's large frame, Her gaze met his feet and worked its way up, resting on his hungry expression.

Her scream didn't leave her lips as Almerion pounced, roughly pushing her down with his hand over her mouth, his other brushing her left briast slightly as he pushed her shoulder down and turned her head. The supple young skin resisted his bite slightly before giving up its fight and allowing the invading teeth to break through. Warm blood quickly filled his mouth, a strange taste of iron coupled in with alcohol flooded his taste buds with a curious tingling sensation of the Bretons inherent magicka. A series of images flashed before his eyes as he drained pint after pint, beast like he fed and fed until she grew limp. The minutes he fed on her where a blur.

He sat in front of the mirror a short while afterwards, cleaning the blood from his white beard careful not to miss any of it for fear of reprisal from the authorities. He had let his bestial nature take over and felt guilty for it, not because he had viciously mutilated the girl, but because he had shown desperation and weakness.

She lay on soft white sheets, her skin was now the same colour of the sheets beneath her. A large amount of blood was pooling around her. He felt a sense of disgust with himself as he stared at her, Almost half of her neck had been torn out, cartilege and sinew jutted out, hanging in place by a few threads of flesh. The left side of her face remained beautiful, the other side torn and ripped from Almerions ebony talons.

He closed the door quietly, locking it behind him with her room key, snapping the key off in the lock and ripping the handle from its hole before heading back downstairs.

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Faction and Rank: Telvanni Self-proclaimed Master

Name: Jo'Rakasha

Race: Khajiit Alfiq-Raht

Gender: Male

Age: 63

Birthsign: The Apprentice

Physical description: Jo'Rakasha bears close resemblance to an oversized wildcat, standing about eighteen inches tall and weighing about twenty pounds. He has a broad, stocky frame. His fur encompasses every shade of brown, from the light tan highlights on his chest, paws, and chin, to the almots black spots and stripes, with a lighter tabby streaks at regular intervals across his body, most prominently in the dark stripes and splotches. His face has a European shape, with a short nose bridge, yet not "squashed". His ears seem abnormally large, and the tufts of fur at the tips give them a barbed or hooked appearance. His gold eyes have an intense gaze, hinting at the manipulative intellect behind them.

Short History: Born in Torval in 3E370 Sun's Height, the Alfiq-raht later known as Jo'Rakasha developed his strong penchant for magic early in life, joining the Mage's Guild as an apprentice at 16. He devoted his life to studying the magical arts. He was a first-hand witness of the "Slaughter of Torval", and took a mild break from his ceaseless studing to serve in the Five Year's war as a battlemage. After his time in the military, however, he moved to Summerset Isle to continue his studies, though he engaged in quite a bit of research of the inexplicable events of the Imperial Simulacrum. He regretted missing the warning signs of another similarly great event resulting in the 'Miracle of Peace', and vowed not to miss out again.

He later joined the legion under the promise that "there will be cake/a klondike bar", but after he signed up, they said he'd get it when he was shipped off to Morrowind. After he arrived, he learned "the cake/klondike bar is a lie", and... left the legion with quite a bounty.

Okay... Seriously, when the workings started to show again in Morrowind, caused by the awakening of Dagoth Ur, he packed his belongings and headed over before the Blight quarantined the island. He joined Great House Telvanni in the most respectable and legitimate way he knew: killing an existing Mage lord in an arcane duel and claiming the old Dunmer's assets as his own, and defending them against all challengers. He has been here ever since, finding the house Telvanni to be quite accomodating to his needs... (Does not mean they tolerate his presence, merely that he may have a rather warped view of the world)

About the character: Jo'Rakasha is an accomplished mage, with mastery of Mysticism only surpassed by the Psjiic order, which he has studied briefly under. Due to his pursuit of the most enigmatic school, his knowledge of Destruction, Restoration, and Alteration are severely stunted, though the synergies of his level of mastery have given him great skill in enchanting, which he uses to offset his poor knowledge of critical abilities of the other schools.
The only school outside Mysticism he has spent great focus on is Illusion, the deceptive nature of the school greatly appealling to his nature. His studies of Conjuration are sufficient to serve his needs, and usually has a Dremora or Golden Saint servant acting as a cusion for his throne, complete with head-scritching services. This use of his conjured servants has often led many ignorant to believe that a powerful Daedra with a fancy-dressed pet cat lives in the tower.

Weapons: Well, many of his jewelry pieces can shoot some form of deadly effect from them, so those might count.

Armor/Clothing: Despite his feline size and form, he still dresses quite exquisitly. The cloth of his fine silk robe is a mottled violet. What initially seems like gold embroidery is actually fine golden jewelry chains, each pulsing with power as they span across his small form in intricate designs. A semi-circular silver-trimmed garment is draqed over his hindquarters, covering his back and back-end, forming a quarter-circle between the two in profile. A silver mantle rests across the top of his shoulders, giving the appearance of two ornately hooked pauldrons.

He has a gold half-aedoric accenting his broad-set body, secured to the outfit on the front of his shoulders like a chestplate. Four gold plates like those in the aedoric are also featured on his side, as though they radiate from each of his shoulders. Over the adoric hangs an exquisite amulet crafted from gold and silver, with what appears at first glance to be a large, magnificent amethyst featured in the center, though a closer inspection reveals it to be a grand soul gem, blackened by the dark arts and filled by the spirit of the former tenant of the tower.

NPCs:
http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind%3a%44ratha
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PCs


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OOC: for those who missed, i made large edits to my opening posts, DarkNova you should read them as you're character has been requested an audience with Vedam Dren.


IC:

Ebonheart

Vedan sat waiting in his study, a glass of wine clutched in one hand, the other was against his lips, he sat with his back to the window, hiding his panic and despair from the people who couldn't even see him.

The time elapsed between sending the letters and now had been un-recordable, He couldn't stop thinking. It seemed like days since he last dipped his quill in the inc and scratched it upon the parchment. They should be here soon, they have had enough time.

He picked up a piece of Parchment he had written the draft letter on before cloning it for the head of Redoran and Telvanni and read it over again. It felt like the hundredth time he had done so, he was searching for signs of weakness hidden in the words, but he could not find any.

To the most esteemed lord's of House Redoran and Telvanni both.

I am sure you are aware of the encroaching invasion of Daedra upon our lands, It is because of these fowl intruders that I request a meeting of the Grand council, effective immediately to discuss a course of action.

I await you're arrival to Castle Ebonheart before the day is over.

You're Loyal servant,

Duke Vedan Dren.

Dren, now satisfied with the letters, crushed it in his palm and dropped it into the fire on his way out of the room, a servant stood outside, a young female imperial. Awaiting his perculiar orders and whims with dignity and loyalty.

"I am going to the Council chambers, when our guests arrive show them to me and send for refreshments, I dare say their journey has been wearisome." He asked before stalking off to the chambers.

NPC's: http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Neloth and some random NPC's.











IC:

The Tel Naga tower, Sadrith Mora.

Look at them...scurrying around like little insects. Doing daily chores. Minding their own buisness. Hmph. As if these are days to laze about. There is too much, far too much to learn! And yet...here I stand atop of my family's tower. I should be out there...yes. I should indeed.

The young sorceress leaned her body against the rail of the balcony, as she gazed out onto the streets of her home town with idleness. Standing silently behind her, was Varion. The minion she had forced a pact with. He never did say much except for a few grunts here and there, but his mistress did not mind. No, the Telvanni preffered silence actually. She enjoyed conversing with herself. Planning, thinking and questioning.

Katsaniah Alvales, only child to Master Neloth, was spending much of her time on the balony these days. The Oblivion invasion had struck great interest with House Telvanni, and many were eager about what vast treasure of knowledge they could attain in the process. As always, the house led by great magisters did not care for the other houses and factions. Why should they? They were of course nothing but filth, were they not? The greedy Hlaalu and the barbaric Redoran were all too occupied with their own concerns. Katsaniah had heard her father go on about the Sigil Stones, he wanted them badly, she could easily tell.

Sighing to herself, she brushed her fingers through her hair, combing the long locks of red hair as she did so, Katsaniah wondered what the other Magisters thought of it all. She had for long wished to hear their opinions, seeing as her father rarely told her anything. Tossing her hair gently behind her small shoulders, her eyes must surely have lit up like the new moon itself, for her mind had been set. She was to find out more of this, yes...she was to get more involved than this. Boredom such as this, was not fit for a high born like her! With a simple flick of the finger, Katsaniah ordered Varion to follow her as she made her way through the Tel Naga tower, and back to her bed room chamber.

"Fetch me my dress at once, Tar-Mej, I am to leave as soon as possible. And go tell the dock master to have his ship ready to set sail for Vos."

The Temple, Ald-Ruhn.

Fear of the fool is the beginning of wisdom.

Almsivi in every hour.

Walk always in the presence of your Lords.

Comfort is given, justice is taken.

Learn by serving.

From the heart, the light; from the head, the law.

Blessed Almsivi, Mercy, Mastery, Mystery...

"You have been praying much lately, my lady. What news have you recieved from the Archcanon?"

It was a the sound of a kind, soft spoken voice that caused the priestess to awake from her quiet chanter. Rising up from knee, the half elf turned around to face an elder Dunmer. The woman, Rumare Omas, stood with a feint smile on her lips as she bowed her head to Theloria. Fine lines were spread across her face, showing her old age, yet one could tell she must have been a fair woman in her prime years.

Theloria smiled warmly back at the healer, as she bowed in return. "The Archcanon approved of my request to aid Ghostgate. It can't be denied, they are in need of healers, and I can do more there than here. I am to travel this afternoon." she replied with a hint of concern in her voice.

Rumare did not comment on this, however. They all had to reason to worry, with the Deadra pouring out from the gates, and with the rumours of Vvardenfell being trapped. But even worse, people were beginning to lack in faith of the gods. Was this their way of punishing the non-believers? That was the conclusion of many. The Deadra had been begun eating their way through the lands, villages and settlements faced a gruesome death, fishermen and commoners hid in their cottages, and every major town had their strongest to defend the town.

"You should go now then, child. Whilst the sun is still rising. Surely you are not to travel alone?" Rumare questioned as she watched the Diviner strap on her armor.

Theloria shook her head, and then explained, "No. Three other priests are to accompany me. The Archcanon has asked me to bring along thee Curates. I am not sure if they are even ready for this, but then again...I suppose none of us really are. This is unlike any other battle, lives will be lost. But if we can spare but a few, it will be worth it..." Theloria's voice trailed off at the end, her thoughts had once again ceased her mind. Offering another smile to Rumare as she equipped her bow quiver, she added, "Take care of the wounded soldiers whilst I am gone, Rumare."

"Yes my lady. May Almsivi guide your path and lead you to victory."

Yes. Only Almsivi can show me the way now.

Somehwere in the outskirts of Ald-Ruhn.

"Posistion yourselves! A new wave is approaching!"

The Redoran warriors readied themselves for the next attack. It seemed as if there was no end to this madness. No matter how many of the foul Deadra they slew, more just kept coming at them. At the back of the group stood the spellcasters, amongst these were Thaden Andrano. The spellsword frowned with frustration, this was getting tiresome. For hours they had been at it. Men had been injured, there had even been deaths. The men were feeling their fatigue drain for every hour that went by. If this went on for any longer, surely it would end in a disaster.

Muttering ancient words of an old language used only by spellcasters, a glow began to surround Thaden's hand. The bonemold armor turned bright red, as a well shaped ball of flame rested on his palm. Aiming for a Clanfear about to ambush a warrior, he flung the spell at it, causing the Deadra to fall backwards, and thus alerted the warrior who was quick to decapitate it.

Thaden could feel his body ache, his mind was weary, as were many of the others. Gritting his teeth together, the Dunmer let out a fierce yell as he and his remaining kin charged at the enemy, intent on finishing what they had been sent to do. Namely, to stop the Deadra who were dangerously closing in on Ald-Ruhn, and blocking the paths that led to the other towns.

Right then Thaden...no time to complain like a small child. svck it up, and burn them to the ground.

NPCs

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Aryon

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Eno_Hlaalu


Original Characters

Faction and Rank: Morag Tong, Master

Name: Serosi

Race: Dunmer

Gender: Male

Age: Nearing 20s

Birthsign: The Mage


Physical description: 5'11, 130+ Pounds. Serosi carries himself in a manner best discribed as "the aloof noble". One who is aware of his position but isn't constricted by it. His slim figure, flexible and abundant in lean muscle spanning across his long limbs and narrow waist line, though tall does not give an imposing appearence to most, yet he seems to exude an aura of "controlled viciousness" which can be best seen in his eyes. His face is mostly seen as unexpressive though remarkably handsome with sharp features leading to a confused contrast in how some approach him. His hair is dark and long in the traditional Velothian manner. It is tied in a knot leading almost mid back. The sides of his face are flanked by loose hair slightly wavey and thick. His mouth is small but carries somewhat fuller lips. Inside the canine teeth extend a bit more then what a mortal's would.

Short History: Serosi was left in the care of the Mournhold Sanctuary of the Morag Tong since he was an infant. There under the care of the headmaster and a fellow assassin he was raised and trained. The latter being named Anrel became a mother to him. As he grew older her role changed to friend and sister and finally lover. Due to the elven life span to the eyes they seem of the same age, though the specifics would be found strange to most humans. His ability and life long experience has earned him the rank of Master at a very young age. Even so it acts more as a title due to his ability rather than a rank he would use.


About the Character: Serosi showed a very early age inclination of the use of Mysticism and quickly grasped its potential in ways rarely achieved by those much older than he. His ability in Sorcery is matched only by his lithe and tactful ability in assassination using an array of weaponry. The most unique are his eyes which when activated, carry multiple pupils tapping deep into the source of his ability. It is possible this is due to his partial vampiric lineage. Although he has been in the Morag Tong all of his life, he generally keeps himself distant from other members with the exception of Anrel. Anyone who forms an opinion of Serosi within the Morag Tong either admire him or consider him an over rated upstart. He is viewed by all as a cold and a bit of a lone wolf even amongst others of his profession, an image he is all together fine with. Serosi is a contrasting figure within himself and is often unsure. He feels more comfortable stalking his target or commiting the act is nervous in simple social situation other wise. The act of the hunt, the fight, focuses him. Althought he does not enjoy the killing itself and is indifferent to it, he considers the method an art form beyond many others.


Weapons:

A slightly curved glass dagger usually worn on his back with the handle pointing downwards and slightly at an angle. He has had and worn this weapon since his first writ of assassination.

Ebony short sword of akavirian style although straight. It's single edged blade gives Serosi the ability to manuver it on several ways and carries the enchantment to silence whoever is struck. It is often his primary tool to use when silence is needed.

Metal chain sickle and weight. This was a weapon Serosi had picked up simply for the rythmic pattern palpable in the shifting weight as it is used. It is often used in combination with spell casting

Dres Kindjal-Sica, a curved doubled edged blade he recently aquired to suit more the fashion of the Dres nobility. It is made in a peculiar way by mixing adamantium and glass giving it both durability and light weight. The blade is rather beautiful showing the patterns of the intertwined fibers of the two different materials becoming one. It is often called "a lover's blade."

Composite bonemold/chitin recurve bow wrapped in boiled natch leather along with bonemold arrows.

An assortment of throwing daggers as well as needles. Serosi is never short on tools and collects the skills to use them like a noble would collect art work.

Usually around his limbs he carries wire which he manipulates either by attaching them to his assassin's tools or through arcane mastery.

Armor/Clothing: He wears elegant black shoes that leave mobility for his ankles to move and refuses anything but. He wears as well dark wide pants of smooth flexible and light fabric. The ankles are wrapped up in boiled netch leather. He wears a similar shirt with his wrists as well being wrapped in the same manner. Over top a Velothian robe of black along with a deep violet sash holding up his Sica is worn. On his head he wears a wide eastern straw hat.

Misc. Items: Silver Ring of the Immotal on the right index finger. A wolf headed dragon bites its tail symbolizing immortality. Sorcerer's ring on his left middle finger enchanted to fortify magic and absorb one in four spells if fate would have it so. Two Black Soul Gems, a tea cup, tea pot and an assortment of different teas. Several scrolls, and some pouches of coins.

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

Faction and Rank: Morag Tong, Knower

Name: Anrel

Race: Altmer/Bosmer

Gender: Female

Age: 40s

Birthsign: The Thief

Physical Description: 5'7, 115 Pounds. Anrel is a mixture of Altmer and Bosmer giving her both elegant and petite traits. Cream light colored hair runs down her back though the soft silk is often tied in a tail when on a mission. Her skin is a soft lightly golden tan hue covered in what seems to be tattoos of serpents from her graceful hands, down her curved body, along her long legs to her light stepping feet. A sense of sublime importance is exued in anything she touches, a testament to her grace. Her hazel eyes seem to grasp one's attention and are both gentle and strong. If her eyes spoke, they would gesticulate with her eye brows, both expressive and wise. A thin elegant nose runs down her face inbetween her sharp yet warm cheeks. Further below lie her lips both full and sweetly elegant.

Short History: Anrel was born in Summerset to an estranged family she never quite intergrated into. She left the isles after tragedy had struck and decided to find herself in Morrowind. Alone and hungry she turned to her assets and lived off the money she made dancing. She found that line of work depressing and by a bit of luck and alot of mercy, she was taken in by the Mournhold Morag Tong Sanctuary, only to find out that they had just found one of their newest and better skilled assassins. She was asked to take care of a baby that had been left at the sanctuary, by the name of Serosi. Through the years she cared for the child starting his training at a very young age. The two became close, she wanted to be to Serosi everything her parents weren't to her. Eventually as Serosi grew, so too did her feelings for him.

About the Character: Respectful and generous as she is exact and dangerous. She is soft spoken when need be, and aggressive when the other method fails. A bit of a reputation followers her amongst the other Morag Tong among those who travel as she is often asked to demonstrate for other members her martial ability. Less known to others however is her serpent manipulation magic which has been a nasty surprise to her more skilled targets that resisted better than others. She is extremely protective of Serosi and above all uses any and all abilities in order to protect him.

Weapons: http://www.superiormartialarts.com/images12/W056%5B1%5D.jpg each made of a single piece with leather strapping on the grip and enchanted for lightning.

An elven bow as elegantly curved as she is along with varying types of arrows.

A few throwing weapons hidden on her.

Armor/Clothing: When not on a mission she will generally wear robes. When on a mission it generally depends on where she will be going but generally nothing gets heavier than leather.

Misc. Items: An ebony ring on her right middle finger for casting silence. A matching ring on her left middle finger to summon a dagger.




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


Vivec City
Morag Tong Main Headquarters

Serosi sat quietly at the table eating while Anrel and Eno Hlaalo, the only two others in the room conversed. They had arrived on Vvardenfell only a few days ago and had seen the raiding Daedra parties. It seemed like the major cities were not struck, only some of the country side areas. This would lessen travel for most, perhaps make transporting goods a bit more expensive but over all Serosi was indifferent to it. It was strange yes, but for some reason it did not appeal to him all that much.

"And where is he now?" Anrel's voice spoke to Eno who was across the table. She wore a white cloak over her body that made her look more like a traveling priestess than anything else. They had come to Vvardenfell to transport a Dark Brotherhood assassin turned Morag Tong, appearently a beast race as well. They were often slaves in Morrowind, and traded internally through Vvardenfell amongst the Dunmer Houses. Serosi had been to Vvardenfell every year of his life to meet with one of his instructors, but this time there might not be a chance.

"He's in Balmora with Master Ethasi Rilvayn. But before that I have a task for young Master Serosi." Eno Hlaalu spoke in a direct tone Anrel recognized. He slipped out a writ from his sleeve, his gloved hand placing the piece of paper on the table infront of Serosi he took the paper and continued eating. The meal was a http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3040/2485544674_f83e893d7c.jpg a bit unique to Vvardenfell. Something he always had to have every time he came north.

Serosi felt a slender ankle he quickly realized as Anrel's, pushing against his leg. She was annoyed at him not being more talkative. He looked up at Eno and decided to reply. "I will see to it." Anrel rolled her eyes slightly. "I apologize, he's not very talkative."

"Non sense, there was nothing to say." Eno replied quickly. This left Serosi a bit more at ease. Anrel was always trying to push him into these sort of things, just like when he was younger she would tease him.

Tel Vos

Aryon paced back and forth inspecting the dwemer centurion archers trio he had invested quite a price into. Luspinian Hertarian, Aryon's sharp shooter stood idly by with his bow in hand looking at the Arch-Magister inspecting his work.

"This will do just fine. Keep them together and scout the perimeter. If you find any gates, come back and inform me. If you run into Daedra skirmish and retreat to protection." Aryon spoke as he glanced over to Rimitil, the Altmer Crusader that looked every much a Dwemer construct with his armor on as the archer centurions. Turedus Talanian wasn't far behind his master. The personal bodyguard could almost make Aryon's shadow jealous.

"Serjo! Serjo! We've captured one!" The voice of an Argonian that Aryon recognized as Smokeskin-Killer was heard from down the hall. With him was Ra'Kothre and Cidius Caro, all three retainers in house Telvanni in the service of Aryon personally. Dragging with them was a Dremora badly mauled by what seemed Cidius' doing as a battlemage. Shards of ice were encrusted deeply in the flesh of the daedra which growled furiously as it was dragged and dropped face first against the marble ground before Aryon.

"And to what do we owe the honor of such passionate attention from the servants of one of the 'Corners of Trouble' fire born?" Aryon moved at a slow pace a fan made of ivory colored feathers fanning himself in a rather inquisitive manner. The Dremora had been harmed badly and even though they were immortal, their pain existed as did the fear of the void and being regenerated. The creature below him had his right arm missing from the elbow down while his legs were broken in several spots. Aryon rolled the Dremora on it's back, the fearsome Daedra growling and gasping in pain.

"You will all be a feast for me and my soldiers! Your realm will become Dagon's domain!" Aryon raised his head as the Dremora hissed his words. Could this be a result of the assassination of Uriel? The ashlander scouts had reported seeing massive red gates opening and the Daedra pouring out. This was something a bit beyond what many wizards could do. "Is that so?" Aryon stopped fanning for a moment as he looked down at the pathetic creature. "Well i've a message for yours." And with that Aryon's wrist swung the fan quickly, sending a chilling tempest in the direction of the Dremora who was now pieced by several many more shards of ice. The marble under the Dremora lit on fire as the blood of the creature ignited.

"I'll be in my chambers. No disturbances." Aryon turned on his heel and walked away leaving behind his men to clean the mess up. If what the Dremora said was true, this could be much more grave than previously thought of. Was this just an invasion of Vvardenfell or all of the Empire?

Vivec City
Morag Tong Main HQ

The room provided with the exception of the bed, a table with a chair and a dresser. Serosi sat idly on the bed with his back against the wall which the left of the bed was flanked upon. He eyed the writ in his hand reading the name over and over slowly, paying attention to the detail of how the letters were written in Daedric script common of the Dunmer. Usually after eating he felt a comfortable sinking feeling in his stomach which usually allowed him to train rather well. He could better sit in his hips and his movements seemed more relaxed than usual, but this time he did not care for it at all. Serosi usually trained in private or with Anrel and felt strange being watched. Anrel herself didn't much care and had been asked by Grand Master Eno to show some of the other members some hand to hand techniques.

"Are you sure? It isn't like they really know who you are so it won't matter if they see you. I don't see what you are so embarrassed about." Anrel spoke as she removed the white cloak off of herself revealing the goldish cream color of her skin. She folded the material neatly placing it on the bed beside Serosi who reacted in typical fashion to her accusation which was all together true, and both knew of it.

"I'm not embarrassed." Serosi's eyes wandered away in a dismissive manner. He was rather private about much of what he did in a fashion Anrel found adorable enough to tease him about whenever possible just to see his brows furrow just slightly, the tightening of his bottom lip and the folding of his arms. Oh yes that meant they weren't close any longer, or at least that is what he was trying to sell, but she wasn't buying it.

"I think it's pretty obvious that you are. And I don't see any reason for it." Her back was turned to him as she pulled out over her unclothed form a black thin strapped tank top of loose material covering her chest and ending soon after. She pulled a soft material up between her legs tying the thin straps around her hips. When she was done the delicate garmet provided an adequate triangular shape in the front and a much smaller one in the back covering the tail bone and holding the three straps forming a T in place. She grinned to herself as Serosi didn't reply but pretended not to hear her. "Hmmm?" Anrel continued as she now began wrapping a strap of cloth around her delicate hands covering the palm and knuckles exposing only the half ends of her fingers and her whole thumb on either hand. The material would provide protection for the hand as she trained. Often people pound away like brutes with their fists not understanding the actual sensativity of the internal structure of the hand.

"You're going to train wearing that?" Serosi asked in an almost mocking fashion to hide his jealousy. None of which he would admit to until later on possibly.

"Yea? Don't I always? Why are you jealous? Of what? They're family." Anrel smirked as she sat on the foot of the bed with her back to Serosi's left. Family, that was an interesting word for her, but in the Morag Tong it was just that. In any case it was more of a family than what she had previously experienced. She placed her right heel against the edge of the bed and began wrapping similar material around her feet covering the arch, placing the material between the toes, coming back around the arch and finally the ankle until only her toes and heel were uncovered.

"No, not jealous." Serosi mumbled, his eyes looking at her slender shoulders and hair, her scent sweet and strong near him.

"No, not jealous." Anrel mocked him in her deeper mumbly voice trying to mimic Serosi. "If you say so." She lifted her left foot on the edge of the bed now, her knee all the way bent and covered it in a similar fashion as her right one. Afterward she stood up and walked toward the door. Just before reaching for the handle she turned around to him. "Stop being so moody, just come watch." Without a word he got up off the bed and followed her, several steps behind.

Tel Uvirith, Tower of Master Athyn Drelos

Athyn stared long and hard out across the wastelands, seeing as far as the tip of Red Mountain itself. He was stood on the roof balconey of perhaps one of the most tallest and impressive Telvanni mushroom towers in Morrowind. Looking up from the ground you would see it almost reach the stars and beyond, it's height and grandeur was incomprehensible to any man.

Is it true? Has Lord Dagon really begun a full scale invasion of the Empire itself? How could we possibly hope to defeat such an opponent, one that is endless and indestructible as a Daedra Lord and his minions. The jaws of Oblivion have opened and we are left helpless and hopeless in stopping it. The Empire has failed us so it is now up to the only House that has any understanding of such an enemy

The Telvanni master turned around and faced his Dunmer servant in waiting. The servant was wearing the typical Telvanni uniform of full bonemold armor with the noticable Dust Adept helm that most men under Master Athyn wore when around ashlands "Lawmen Bralen, I will need you to deliver a letter to the Archmagister as soon as possible, wait here for me as I prepare it" he instructed and entered the tower. Walking through the long winding hallways and passageways that spread out across the stronghold, he stopped in his private chambers and sat at the desk. His room was most elegant with most standard upper class furniture and decorations although he had no need for such mundande items. However the room was littered with books and artifacts piled upon each other on the bed, wardrobes desk and floor. With a flick of his right hand, he levitated the quill from the inkpot and with another flick of his left hand he levitated a fresh parchament out from under his pile of books. With a final motion with his right hand, his thoughts were put to paper.

To my most esteemed Archmagister

As I am sure it has come to your attention, the Daedra Lord of Destruction Mehrunes Dagon himself has begun a full scale invasion of the weakened Empire as I write. His legions of Dremora and other Daedric creatures lay seige to the provinces and I believe that the ancient city of Kvatch in the Imperial provence itself has fallen and is now nothing but a smouldering ruin of what it once was. Already the island of Vvardenfell has been quarantined from the rest of the mainland and with the current state of affairs, we are helpless to do anything to stop it. Therefore I call a meeting of all Masters of the House in the council hall of Sadrith Mora to speak for themselves and no Mouths to speak for them. Only we, the Telvanni have the knowledge on this new foe that threatens our great nation and House and only we can possibly hope to oppose them. Not the helpless legion Garrison, not the proud and idiotic Redoran, not the selfish and greedy Hlaalu and almost certainly not the pretender temple. I hope that you agree and have the knowledge to accept such a meeting to discuss matters and what our course of action should be. I understand that such Masters as Neloth may me more than unwilling to leave his tower but surely there is no real need for isolationist fools like them and his absence may be more than helpful to the House.

I eagerly await your reply, Master Athyn Drelos.

With the last word written, the quill was dropped back into the inkpot and with a wave of his hand, the parchement was rolled up and a seal was placed to close it tight. For a final method of protection, a spell was placed so that he would know when the letter was opened and by whose hand so no undesireble could read it without his knowing. Lifting himself up from his chair he stood up and went back to the roof balconey where sure enough the Lawmen was waiting for him "Lawmen, I need this delivered to Archmagister Aryon in his tower at Tel Vos understood. Wait there for a reply for him and get back as soon as possible. This is urgent" The Lawmen bowed and turned to enter the tower and carry out his mission. Athyn turned back around and stood in his original position and stared out across the empty wastes.

http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Morrowind:Nevena_Ules


Character sheet

Faction and Rank: Hlaalu - Retainer (conscripted local healer)

Name:Laurenne Bielle

Race: Breton

Gender: Female

Age: 24

Birthsign: The Mage

Physical description: If not for her height, a grand total of 5"4, Laurenne would bear a striking resemblance to a Nord, due to her light blond hair and pale skin, as well as blue eyes. She could probably could pass for one at a distance. However as the viewer gets closer it becomes more obvious that Laurenne is about half a foot too short.

Short History: Laurenne grew up in Bruma, in northern Cyrodil. She was the son of the local priest and attended the mages guild in the town. Through her early she underachieved and her gift for magic was only recently discovered. Laurenne began to spend more of her time in the mage's guild, training hard to become a competent spellcaster. In the past she has had dealings with deadric magic and it was association with its practisers that caused Laurenne to be deported to Vvardenfell. She has spent the last six of her life, living in Balmora, rising quietly through the ranks of the Mage's Guild, staying out of the way of the increasing political turmoil. With the manifestation of the Oblivion gates however, her abilities as a healer have been recognised by the local government and she has been called into service by house Hlaalu.

About the character: Laurenne has always been one of those people who simply get classified as 'nice' there is very little about her on the surface that suggests she isn't just the same as everyone else. She hates to let people down and feels strongly about any cause people can persuade her of. However, because of this as well as her weak will and a naive belief in others, Laurenne is easily coerced into doing the wrong thing, though she dislikes hurting people directly she can be persuaded (by the right person) to get involved in almost anything. So her actions depend largely on the company she keeps, though by herself she will be law abiding by default.

Laurenne has always been a reasonably talented mage, with a penchant for the outdoors, whilst her compatriots were studying the more serious schools of magic, Laurenne was out foraging for potion ingredients or helping her father with the ill at the local church. As such she became quite skilled in the arts of Alchemy and Restoration ontop of this she has honed her skill at mysticism whilst on the island, preferring her own abilities to paying guild guides or silt strider pilots for lifts. Her wandering in both Cyrodil and Vvardenfell have lead her into trouble, because of numerous encounters with wild beasts and the occasional bandit she has become quite skilled with the heavy silver staff that she takes with her on walks.

Weapons: Silver Quarter Staff

Armor/Clothing: A simple brown, hooded robe over a soft tunic and tight trousers. If expecting trouble, Laurenne will don a ringmail cuirass, bought from the local smith, the light mail currently resides in a locked box in her room in the Balmora branch of the Mage's Guild

Misc. Items: Lockbox Key, a mess of alchemical equipment, a faintly glowing ring which, when a command word is uttered will grant the wearer 20 minutes of nighteye. Around her waist she generally wears an ingredients pouch as well as a small bag of coins, totalling about 50 Septims.


IC coming -> delayed due to more pressing concerns, will be up tonight

Ebonheart
Hawkmoth Legion Garrison

"So, as you can see, sir, we have a bit of a problem."

Admiral Tyr looked up from the pile of reports held in his large, leathery hands, his dark blue eyes fixing intently on the young Legionnaire standing before him. "Son, you have got one helluva gift for understatement," he growled bitterly, before turning his attention back to the reports held before him. They'd been written by Legion soldiers from one tip of the damned island to the other, every one of them talking about the same thing. Hellish gates that seemed to magically just pop up out of the ground, with no rhyme or reason. And, that these same gates were spewing forth an army of Daedra, one that was massacring everyone and everything in its path.

Tyr set the documents down on a nearby desk, bringing his right hand up to his temple. "I need a drink..." he muttered, rubbing his temple methodically.

"So...what should we do, sir?" asked the trooper, confusion and concern lining the youngster's voice.

With his duty clearly set out before him, Tyr stood to his full height, straightening his uniform. "First things first," he began, nodding at the Trooper. "I want any Legionnaires out in the field recalled immediately, and start working on fortifying out positions at Wolverine Hall, Buckmoth, and Moonmoth. If we can't hold the major cities from these ugly bastards, then we may as well kiss our sorry a-"

"Sir!" cried another Legionnaire, running up to Tyr before snapping a crisp salute. "Urgent message for you! Duke Dren wants to speak with you ASAP, sir!"

Tyr rolled his eyes, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Figures," he muttered. "We got a bona fide apocalypse on out hands, and the politicians wanna have a sit down." He looked back down at the second Trooper, still standing at firm attention. "Relax, son, before you strain somethin'. Where's Dren at now?"

The Trooper seemed to relax some, nodding slightly. "Sir, I think he's in the council chambers. I think he might have his assistant waiting for you, sir."

"Good," Tyr replied, before looking towards the first man. "Get working on recalling those men. And get the word out to those fort Captains to just sit tight and hold the line. We're gonna figure out what the hell is going on soon enough." He began out of the fort, and towards the council chambers. "Dismissed." The two Troopers quickly set off to their tasks.

It didn't take long for Tyr to reach the council chamber from the fort, intent on finding out just what the hell it was that Dren wanted. They were in a gods damned crisis, after all; he needed to coordinate the Legion response, not handhold some pampered bureaucrat. As he made his way inside, he noticed a young Dunmer girl standing there, and made his way forward.

"I hope to Talos you're one of Dren's, kid," he said to the Dunmer, stern and resolute. "I hear the Duke wants to speak with me?"

OOC: Oi, Solidor! That's you.

Vivec – High Fane, Saryoni’s Office


Tholer Saryoni’s quill shifted across a fresh slither of parchment, his words set aglow by a small vanilla candle burning close by the page. He wrote with the tenacity of a hundred scholars, the elder Dunmer pouring his heart and soul into his writings. Other finished scrolls were cast about drying racks behind him, and as he completed his latest addition, he’d lift himself from his oaken chair and would shuffle over to the rack and lay it about an empty spot.

An Ordinator, devoted to silence, watched the old man slave over his writings for the last eight hours without pause or nourishment and he made it his mission once his shift was over that he be brought a bountiful plate of food. The other guards in rotation spoke of the Archcanon’s writings as well, and the Ordinator calculated he’d been at it for two days now.

Steadfast.

Not wanting to disturb him, yet feeling himself at his end with watching the great man’s appearance deteriorate, the deep voiced Ordinator would break the silence of the room, with first clearing his throat, `` Muthsera, I suggest you get some rest and something to eat as well. These are not good times to forsake your health. ``

``Some things cannot wait.`` Saryoni would inform as he reclaimed his seat, brushing hands over his stubble rich jaw line. He uncorked another fatigue potion amongst many, the unsavory liquid unappetizing but necessary. He’d take a modest gulp of the elixir before having to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand.

Once the bottle reunited with the surface of his desk, he’d aim eyes of the deepest red on the concerned Ordinator, ``Some things can never … wait. A Reformation is upon us, Young Acolyte, and it is coming now when we need it most. I apologize, but if you cannot be silent I will have you stationed else where. Be concerned with those who enter, have none for me. By Azura’s star … I must finish before it is too late.”

The Ordinator would nod obediently whilst finding his remarks about Azura a bit odd and at his shift’s end he would leave without a word. Though later that night a tray of nix hound meat and satrice was delivered to the Archcanon’s desk and after a small amount of fuss, he accepted the meal with the upmost gratitude.


Gnisis


Reports of a Daedra Gate spawning a few clicks north of the Gnisis Egg mines held true. A miner by the name of Favas Fevani led the group of War Ordinators over a tall mountain range overlooking the gate’s location. It was quite the climb, especially for the Indoril warriors decked out in armor. Arnas Therethi seemed to have the least amount of trouble, the former Hand perspiring but a little, climbing ardently behind the miner, leading the way for the three other scouts accompanying him. They finally reached the peak of the mountain, the miner remaining on his belly to avoid detection. Arnas did the same, yet he’d flip off his helmet and catch its slight roll with his gauntlet shielded right hand. He exhaled deeply from his lips and would wipe at his forehead with the small patch of cloth between his pauldron and his gauntlet.

The Dunmer miner would wipe his own sweat away, pointing a calloused finger down in the distance to a flaming red oval as clear as day in residence of the open field, surrounded by more mountain range and a thin grove of trees. “There! Do you see it?”

“Yes. You’ve done well. Wait for us further down the range to guide us back.” Arnas would order him as he gazed upon the distant ring of fire. No Daedra seemed to emerge from the gate yet. Arnas was more concerned that if this gate could spawn monsters, then what was stopping them from bursting from the build of the fiery walls concealing their continent? Arnas would lick slightly chapped lips, the other Ordinators keeping inside of their helmets. Many more of their units were stationed in the city in preparation for invasion.

“None of us are to go near that gate. Not until we know more of its properties.” Arnas would decree with the slight scrunch of his nose. Falling in silence, he’d witness a small green lizard like creature emerge from within the fiery arch itself, the broad headed creature oscillating its head about its neck, sniffing the air.

Arnas’ would stare at the distant daedra in curiosity and glee. Battle awaited him and he couldn’t be more excited. He’d stand up atop of the cliff, not caring if the creature spotted him. He replaced his mask about his face.

“The Merciful Healing Mother will sharpen our blades and keep us safe from harm, even in death. Let us go now to prepare the men. It is before that pass,” He pointed westward to a break in the mountains they stood upon, “we shall defend the city and press the Daedra back into the hell they’ve came from. Let’s move.”

The Ex-Hand would be joined in standing by the four others, the group of five marching across the cliff top to seek out their guide and would be lead back promptly to Gnisis.


***


Gnisis itself was in a state of fear and anxiety, many of the merchants and occupants filing lines at the silk strider port to escape with their more valuable possessions. Upon Arnas’ return he headed to the nearest Legionnaire. “Tell your commander Arnas Therethi, Disciple and Officer of War requests a word with him. I’ll await him outside of the temple. It’ll be for the best if he not keep me waiting longer than necessary.”

The Temple area was swarming with Ordinators, patches of them congregating in a makeshift camping area, a few of the sparring, some praying, some resting. All were suitable in battle preparation. Arnas himself would stand before the entrance of the Temple as he said he would. Standing in silence was his forte.