So quick to discount such claims, Khajiit sees. But this is no surpirse from a mind so simple as your own. Our gods are different from yours; in that the only possible way they share any likeness is through what they represent! You'd have a better chance of Jode and Jone disappearing than the elves being correct. You we're not in Elsweyr at the time of crisis. How can you make such baseless accusations of this one being false? Taela apologizes for raising her voice. This tension in the air is so palpable as to make us all on edge.

It is obvious that your gods are but ones of different pantheons, adapted to your culture. But a society revolving around copious amounts of drug use would obviously act foolish. To say otherwise, you might as well say that Z'en isn't Zenithar or Alduin isn't Akatosh!

(Theya stops contemplating issues other than at hand and speaks up.)

I might speak out of turn and if anything, I apologize for that.

Thalmor, Time is trapped inside Mundus and so belongs to all of us mortals. You cannot claim his name for your own desires. (She pauses and refrains from using ...perhaps sightly bad language.) That being said, the motives of this passive... or should I say half-passive deity, are obscure. One doesn't ask Akatosh for his intervention knowing he's there. Is this Aedroth we call Akatosh and Auriel capable of choosing? I see no reason to believe that Akatosh WOULD choose one thing over the other.

Oh, my head. Dear friends, can we attempt to stay on topic? Later you can adjourn to a tavern to argue correspondences.

It seems to me that there are two things that need to be looked at, the Amulet, and Martin himself. How much of what transpired depended on each, I cannot say. Was the true insertion something that happened long ago and was held in reserve until triggered?

I believe it is a mistake to discount Martin Septim's own contribution. This happened. Therefore it was allowed to happen. Therefore we should look at the one who is allowed agency in this situation - the man.

Ah, yes, well, the adaphysical status of Martin of-the-Blood is of course the second topic for the Council's consideration. I suppose now is as good a time any to enter it into discourse.

And I would like to remind everyone that this is an Ecumundrial Council, wherein our watchword is Interpretatio Cyrodiila: the names but guises, the divine essence is cathaurbical.

With a clandestine quietness, Arynel enters the Ecumundrial chambers and takes a seat. Looking around, he takes note of all present. Most faces are unfamiliar.

Why would Auri-El wish for the the fortification of the Man-Empire? The Dragon was merely in chains before, chains destroyed by Thalmor crusaders, emissary of Kyne.
The Man Martin is mere Imperial propaganda. His contribution is fiction. It was the Anuic Wizards of Alinor that saved your precious Empire from Dagon, yet we get no thanks from you Allesians.

You loathsome bastards! He sacrificed his very life to protect the Empire, and you dismiss it and spout your propaganda? For shame. If Martin witnesses this from Aetherius, I predict he would shed tears. I thought you Mer would've learned how to be humble after Man destroyed three of your civilisations.

I beg Stendarr to give me his mercy, for I do not wish to beat you to death and violate the vows I took to only harm the malevolent. Those who were svckled on the lies of the true evil should live so that they could potentially see the errors of their ways.

This Martin figure is very interesting. Rumors of this man being the heir to the ruby throne have spread far and wide throughout Tamriel; and it appears such rumors may be true.

"It is not the purpose of this council to discuss the political and religious disagreements between the Septim Empire and the Thamor," Arynel interjects. "There is room to debate what role was played by each in the events which led to the banishment of Dagon, but if we are to approach this question, let us leave vitriol aside."

The Breton pauses, shifting in his seat.

"Consensus among both laymen and scholars of imperial leaning, as recorded in Monhona's The Amulet of Kings, is that the Amulet of Kings is the physical embodiment of a covenant between Akatosh and Alessia which would create a boundary between Mundus and Oblivion. It is thought that the assination of Uriel VII resulted in that covenant being temporally nullified, and that the actions of one Martin Septim with the Amulet of Kings in the Temple of the One restored the conditions of the convenant.

"Seeing that the original agreement was that Akatosh would prevent an invasion from Oblivion, and considering that at this time, Mehrunes Dagon himself had already manifested in the Mundus so that the restoration of a boundary in itself would have no impact on his purposes, I propose that the manifestation of Akatosh in order to banish Dagon be accepted and understood as an extension of the original covenant."

I can attest that the man at least existed, having met him. Unfortunately, though I was not far distant, I cannot testify to his transformation, as in the confusion, I did not witness it with my own eyes. I saw nothing more than what many residents of the city saw that day - Dagon, the dragon, and after, the stone statue.

There was no such "covenant"! It was mere imprisonment by the warrior-queen Perriff. Liberty has been granted to Aka, and he has saved us all from Oblivion.

I hope we are here to reveal the truth behind the events on that day of reckoning, rather than appeal to whatever the Elder Council want us to believe. Adjust your senses Scholars and Bishops alike, hear the enlightenment of the Thalmor Fanfare.

I believe my brother Mer to be drunk on the spirit of his own ancestors, but he does have a point. What theological basis is there to determine the motivations of Aka's appearance? I feel a case could be built in both directions.

Arynel runs his fingers through his hair, visibly perplexed.

"The enigmas of the past are buried by generations," the Breton begins, slowly. "It is not in my power to uncover the truth in this matter.

"Even so, the testimony of numerous witnesses confirms the following: that Mehrunes Dagon manifested himself in Mundus, that Martin Septim entered the Temple of the One with what is believed to be the Amulet of Kings, and that afterwards Akatosh himself was manifesed, confronted Dagon in battle, defeated the Daedroth, and that a statue of the Dragon was left in the ruins of the Temple. Given the disctinct peculiarity of such a chain of events, I propose the best explanation for what there occured is that Martin Septim used the magic of the Amulet to summon the dragon god."

Arynel pauses, and furtively glances around the room.

"In consideration of the points made by the Thalmor emissary, I concede it is possible that Akatosh had other designs in manifesting himself on Mundus than the banishment of Dagon. But I hold fast that it was through the power of the Amulet of Kings in the hands of Martin Septim that said appearance was made possible with only minimal aurbic disruptions."

(Heedal coughs and sputters, and rises from his seat)

Alinor? Don't make me laugh. It was the Hist who saved Black Marsh. From every corner of the Mundus and beyond, we Saxhleel heard their call. Not all returned home, but those that did, poured into the festering Oht-wounds Dagon inflicted upon Nirn and cauterized them from within. I have the Sigil Stones to prove it.

Besides, I believe we're overlooking a participant in Martin's alleged apotheosis- yes, Akatosh made a grand entrance and that's all well and good, but was Lorkhan not present as well? Even in Black Marsh we heard the rumours of Pelinal Whitestrake returning, just like he did when Perrif lay on her deathbed.

Of course, I also heard that Sheogorath was there, but that's just crazy talk.

(Drenim glances around the room obviously attempting to hide conflicting emotions. He softly shakes his head, reaches into his robe, stuffs and lights a pipe. Acrid smoke rises.
At this time no-one has the floor, all are reflecting the words already spoken.
Drenim slightly rises from his seat, smiles, and seats himself, again softly shaking his head. He seems pre-occupied with an imagined stain on his robes.
When he looks around the room only the sparkle in his eyes belies his behaviour.)

What does one have to do to get a drink around here?

Edit: as to not clutter thread Ill print reply to below post here.

(Drenim smiles at the Nord lass and examines her figure in an absent way as she serves the table.
From somewhere he produces a tiny silver flask and pours a drop of its contents in his tankard. 'Just a bit of a kick' he mumbles as his hand carefully places a worn-thin but obviously fine gold coin on the table. He looks at the assembled expectantly and his grey flowing hair and laughter-wrinkled face make him look just like the grandfather you always wished you had)

A graceful hand held forth a tankard of mead to the thirsty Drenim.

"Scholarship be thirsty work, m'ord," smiled a statuesque, zaftig Nordic lass in an old-fashioned Cyrodiilic barwench's outfit, her golden hair flowing from her shoulders to the floor. "Here, help yeself to a bit of Skyrim's best, courtesy of the Bishop of Barmaids, whom I be most honored to represent at this esteemed gathering."

Blue eyes twinkling, she sashayed from Drenim to any others who called for drink, a tray of full tankards balanced easily on her left hand. "Fear not, worthies; but call out your wish and it shall be provided, though do allow me a bit of time if I be having to nip off and restock me tray - especially if ye be asking for something especially fancy. And do be kind in your consideration when ye depart this hall; the good Bishop thanks ye most kindly for any donations, that we may continue our sacred task of keeping Tamriel's throats from going dry."

===

(Hello all; this looks to be fun )

Loranna

Lizard, you should know the difference between fact and Imperial propaganda. Lorkhan is dead. These rumours you have heard, are as you say, mere rumours. You must adjust your hearing Saxhleel, hear the truth, hear Aka himself. The Dragon will enlighten you beyond belief.... Perhaps you cannot hear. Perhaps Auri-El reserves his beautiful sound for noble Mer.

On your other comment, the Argonians may have closed the Tower Gaps in Black Marsh, but it is the Thalmor that brought back Aka who then vanquished Dagon. Daedroth do not die, they would not have relented their onslaught. Just as they destroyed the Tower of Crystal, they would have destroyed your beloved Hist. This Martin fable is but a myth, a mere puppet of no Septim blood. The Champion of Cyrodiil too, can any of you even tell me what he, or she, looks like? It is unknown! Another Imperial fabrication! It would never suit the councilors of White Gold to have the Altmer save Tamriel, especially the Thalmor sect....

No, not yet Shurz. But if I'm right, soon...

Ahem, I would caution the Thalmor representative that he risks censur and charges of treasonous libel. The divinity of Martin Septim is certainly up for debate, but his lawful ontology is not. The same holds for The Right Honorable Champion of Cyrodiil, whom I will have you know that I have had the pleasure of meeting personally.

"With all due respect, my goodmer," says Arynel with a hint of admonishment. "You will understand our reluctance to accept your claims. It is a consequence of the hushed secrecy of Summerset that most of us have little knowledge of the activities of the high elves. Yours is a race which esteems logic: cease your propaganda and give an account that we may consider your claims, or speak no more."

The Breton shifts in his seat uneasily.

There is a unexpected blast of air from the far side of the hall, accompanied by the familiar rush of a teleportation materializing. From the haze walks a modestly robed Dunmer sorceror, grasping a dull ebony staff in a gloved right hand. He coughs as he walks towards his seat and speaks.

Dear friends,

I am here in the stead of Master Fyr of the Telvanni. Apologies for the late hour of my arrival. I have, in only a few days, managed to travel here from Magas Volar, which is but a small fief I do not expect many save the most niche Oblivion topographers to be acquainted with. Returning from an extended stay in those realms leaves one feeling stretched. For what seemed to be years, I have been locked in rather draining deliberations with the Daedra who have returned there. Lord Dregas Volar, utterly enraged upon his return to his quasi-realm, would not allow us leave from his house until he was satisfied my people would do all in their power to find his missing treasure. The venerable Dremora would like to know where his Crescent Blade has gone; it has been missing since a lone warrior bested and took it from him some time ago. Some say this was the Nerevarine, but I do not put much stock into the rumours one hears in Morrowind. My Master however seems oddly quiet on the subject.

It is reassuring to witness such a veritable congregation arrayed for this task. I am glad to see that Dagon’s troublesome interlude hasn’t done much by way interrupting the fine mythodemia and acapoeia that marks this land.

My first question is simple, and is actually the only question that my Master explicitly bid me ask; why did the dragon turn into stone? My master believes that this is only instance of an Aedric manifestation turning into stone, and there have been not a few.

Should anyone come to learn anything of the whereabouts or the fate of the Crescent Blade, I enjoin them to kindly inform me. My master may not consider the Daedra exceptionally interesting anymore, even in lieu of past events, but my fascination has not waned.

Indoranys Hyamentar
Sorceror-Auxiliary to the Parliament of Bugs
Permanent Adjunct-Disciple to the Tower of Fyr
Wizard to the House Telvanni

Well-come, then, Magister Hyamentar. I trust the wraithwall fibrils were not too zealous in their inquiry, hmn? Though I am saddened to hear that Lord-Councillor Fyr could not be with us. His expertise would be, how say, very useful. Though obviously, he would have not sent us your sageness if he thought you were not up to divine task.

"Bottle of Shein for ye, serjo?" the Nordic lass asked, holding a clay bottle out to the recently-arrived Telvanni. "Alas, of the Blade I heard naught; still, 'tis the way of famous relics in the Arena to get themselves about as if they had minds of their own, is it not? You hear tell of, oh, the Ring of Khaijiit being on the Nerevarine's finger from one soul and on the Champion's finger from the next, and who knows where or how such fabled heroes could ever lose something like a ring they're wearing, hmm?"

"As for the statue, I'll have to concede the point to someone more learned then me, though. Personally, I'd say good Martin left us a stone for the Stone to reassure us, but I be accused of being sentimental all the time. Though I wager," she added, glancing over the assembly, "that some folk would take exception to the idea."

===

Loranna

Hyamentar, was it? Glad to see a fellow practitioner here to even things up a bit (excepting serjo Drenim, of course. Remind me to see him after all this, as I have half a mind to ask him for some pointers regarding a bog-mummy I have locked in my basemant presently. Stubborn thing won't stay dead).

'Why does the fire turn to ash indeed', mumbles Drenim and glares at the newcomer.
Nothing has changed, but the grandfatherly figure by the cut of his robes and indents in his face now appears menacing, angular.
It only lasts a fraction of a second and appears only as a flash in the senses, before the image of the kindly grandfather supposes itself again.

It is the nature of the world (speaks Drenim as he stands) that things are spent in order to allow the greater. Notice that the plague which decimates a nation starts with a single infection. Notice that the decimated nation survives because its enemies have not suffered this apoptosis.

When it comes to this.. this draco-manifest, have you ever considered that the Serpent with his coiling has paved the way for you to walk? You talk as if there were a choice. You claim it was you, nay, you, nay you that laurels the credit like children plotting as they feud to be emperors over the affection of father.
Have you considered that from step to step this fate was as inevitable as that age follows youth? (At this Drenim smiles lightly.)

Tell Fyr that He-who-has-cheated-the-steps has noticed him and his ways of flesh-magic.
Tell him so he will know as he already does that his ways of refution-by-desire are not unwelcome nor a threat.
He will tell you to deliver me the message which I already know. He will tell you to politely send me away, and that is proper and right.
All things in their place, even if they must be made to be.

(Drenim seems to forget his point, sits down, rises, and sits again. He pats his robes for his tobacco pouch and looks at the assembly as if he just scored a great victory. He whispers to Heedal: 'place it in the centre of a triangle and make it choose between salvation, resolution and oblivion and it will remain static'.)