» Wed Jun 23, 2010 6:54 pm The Black Host
Lord Daeru Tulurind, resplendent in his blackened plate armour, stood next to one of his mighty trebuchets, watching the siege of the human city. His black hair whipped in the wind, but his ruddy eyes never left the fortress. Around him stood a few of his captains, and many crewmen darted among them and the great siege weapons. Before him stood the might of his army. It was strong, at around twenty thousand; one of the larger armies of Morrowind. The siege of this fortress however was not going as quickly as anticipated.
“Their masonry is strong, and their walls high.” one of the captains said in an almost awed tone.
“We shall raze it to the ground.” Lord Tulurind said simply as one of the trebuchets closest to him launched its payload over the battlements and into the city. A rider rode up through the ranks and reached the command group.
“My Lord.” he nodded “The ladders have reached the walls, and the towers are getting closer. We have the new ammunition on standby and the ram is ready.”
“Excellent.” Lord Tulurind purred maliciously.
“Shall we deploy the ram now my Lord?” a female dunmer, his second in command asked.
“Not yet.” Daeru replied, raising his hand “I want to see the new ammunition in action.”
“Ready!” cried a crewman at one of the trebuchets “Loose!”
With a load groan, the counterweight dropped and the arm flung an iron ball towards the fortress walls and landed atop the battlements. In an instant, the area where the projectile struck burst into orange, molten flames, washing over the walls like a liquid flame. The flames roared loudly over the din of battle. Slowly, as more of the liquid fire bombs were launched at the city, the roaring of the flames increased in volume. And then came the screaming. Lord Tulurind revelled in the sound of it. He turned to his captains with a great grin on his face, as though he was a spectator at a gladiatorial combat.
“Do you hear that?” he asked “That is the sound of defeat. In their minds, we have already beaten them. The rest should now fall into place.”
He turned once again to his second in command.
“Lenuae.” he said “Give the order for a full scale assault.”
“Yes my lord.” she replied.
“And Lenuae.” he added “Take no prisoners.”
His evil grin chilled even his closest subjects. He was, without a doubt, cruel, malicious, devious and guile. The finest general of his age. He watched as his lieutenant marched forward, giving the troops orders and watching as fully half the army marched forward towards the city, ready to aid those already fighting within it. And still the screaming continued.
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Lord Tulurind strode through the dark halls of the King’s Palace. The smooth, black stone, almost glossy in appearance, was so well polished that he could see his own reflection. His black hair fell past his shoulders and reached the small of his back at its longest. His dark skin, nearly the same black as the stone, only emphasised his dark red eyes. A great, cloak of grey hung from his shoulders, though it still allowed the blackened, plate armour that encased his body to show. From his side hung a tall sword, long enough to wield in two hands, but short enough to wield in one. In the crook of his arm was his tall, barbuchet helm, also blackened, with vibrant, red dreadlocks that hung out the back like a plume. He strode purposefully towards the great set of oaken doors and pushed them open.
A wall of noise hit him as he walked into the assembly room, a vast, indoor amphitheatre; the home of what the humans might call a senate. Closest to the centre of the room, was a raised dais where the King himself usually sat. The further from the dais one sat the lesser in rank one was. But there was no king. Not yet. For the moment, only his greatest lords and senators held the position as leaders of Morrowind. As Lord Tulurind entered the assembly room, the noise dropped to near silence.
He walked on, until he stood before the tall an imposing seat of the King, occupied instead by the High Archon. A few of the lesser senators and lords whispered between themselves, many giving Daeru cruel looks, though all of them had fear to some extent in their gazes. The assembly feared him. Daeru intended to keep it that way. The High Archon raised his hand and the assembly fell silent.
“I call this meeting into order, on this, the twentieth day of Heartfire...” as the High Archon spoke, a scribe, seated near his dais, wrote down the words spoken by the assembly.
Lord Daeru rolled his eyes, waiting impatiently.
“I would like to call forth...” the Archon began.
“I don’t think and introduction is necessary. I shall take it from here.” Daeru said casually.
The members of the assembly started to murmur amongst themselves.
“Now I take it there is a reason for why you have called me here?” Daeru questioned the room at large.
“Indeed there is.” came an older Dunmer “What are you doing leading an army against Cyrodiil?”
“Conquest obviously.” Daeru replied with a sneer “Is that not what an army is for?”
“What he means is why are you doing it?” a second Dunmer asked.
“Why?” Daeru posed, raising an eyebrow “Because we need to remind them why they feared us once.”
“But to challenge the Emperor...” began the first Dunmer.
“He is not our Emperor!” Daerus shouted “And they are an Empire no longer. They could not hold sway over their own dominions, let alone us. We broke away from them, and we have only grown in strength!”
“While that may be true, there is no need to start increasing tensions further.” the Archon said.
“Before you say that you remember who should be sitting in that chair...” Daeru snapped.
The room gasped, and the Archon recoiled slightly.
“Our King died fighting those bastards, so why should we show them any form of mercy. What would you do if the legion came over the mountains right now? Would you hand Morrowind over on a silver platter?” Daeru shouted “You have become weak. I spent my life driving those bastards out! I will not roll out the welcome for them now.”
“But there is no need to fight them. Leave them.” a third Dunmer added.
“You do not honestly believe that do you? We must show these pathetic humans that we are superior in every way.” Daeru said “With or without your permission, I will head to the borders of the Cyrodiilic nation and burn it to the ground, to show not only the Imperials but all other nations that we are the chosen. We shall rule this world as it was meant to be.”
For a moment there was silence. All eyes went to the Archon.
“How long will it take?” he asked.
“I can guarantee it take no less than a year.” Lord Daeru grinned maliciously.
The commotion in the room rose before the Archon raised a hand.
“Have it done.” the Archon said “You have my grace in this mission.”
Daeru smiled.
“Council dismissed.” the Archon said. As the others rose and began to talk amongst themselves, Daeru strode out of the chambers, a wicked grin playing his face.
“It begins now.” Daeru said to himself, ready to begin his campaign.
