It was with the cries of men battles started, and the blood of men battles ceased. Tamriel was a different place, now. The drums of war ceased making way for a new era. Tamriel seemed smaller now. Every inch to every mile has felt the stomps of soldiers’ footsteps, heard the battle cries of brave men, and drank the blood of the fallen. Yes it seemed all bloodshed was over, with both sides wounded. But how long would it last?

20th of Frostfall, Beginning of the end of the 4th era. Early morning
It was still dark over the Sea of Ghosts. With a hint of the sun rising to begin a new day. The sea was calm, allowing for a perfect time to fish. A small vessel had weighed its anchor. “Get the nets into the water, ye want to go home hungry?” an elderly Nord yelled out to his three man crew. “If we go home hungry, I’ll blame you for scaring the fish off with your ugly ass!” The Khajiit yelled out giving a cat like laugh. “Yeah and his breath!” The Redguard added with low chuckle. “Look at that!” The younger Nord of the crew pointed to the small Imperial carrier fleet passing by.
“Must be headin ta port back in Dawnstar.” The elderly Nord guessed. The small fleet consisted of one passenger vessel and three scout frigates equipped with 4 cannons on both sides, enough to take down any pirate magazine that comes to collect the riches and valuable passenger the fleet held. “What was that?” The Nord asked as a subtle quick screech sounded off behind the coming fog. Soon the starboard side of the frigate closest to them exploded with wood spewing into the water. Sudden cries from the ships’ crew yelled out. Words that couldn’t be understood by the fisherman, the distance was far enough to muffle the words.
The ships turned to meet the attackers, being engulfed in the thick fog. The crew of the fishing ship squinted trying to pierce the fog with their sight until more cannon fire could be heard from the distance. “Fire!” The word could be heard quite clearly before the Imperial ships opened fire on whatever was attacking them. No destruction could be heard. The fog thickened until nothing could be seen for maybe five yards. “Moody, I don’t feel right about this, let’s get back to port..” The Redguard grabbed the anchor rope. “Aye lad..” Moody the captain answered. His bird landed on his shoulder as he whistled going into the small cabin and pulled out a piece of parchment and dabbed his quill in the bottle of ink.
He looked out the back windowed, and as the fog thinned his eyes widened. Seven or eight ships surrounded the small Imperial fleet. Soon the shouts of blood curdling shrieks could be heard, and then the sounds of cannons firing rapidly. Soon the cannon fire ceased and the hostile ships moved away to show the Imperial fleet set ablaze. Moody quickly wrote down what had encountered, rolled up the parchment tying it to his birds leg and sending it off. He turned to the helm, to see another ship slide across the forward bow of his ship, cannon gates open, cannons firing…
__________________________________________________

The letter later reached Whiterun. The High King ordered for a fleet to intercept the attackers. During the cat and mouse campaign at sea Missives from the Shimmering Isles reached Cyrodil of verified Akavir ships a few days off the coast. The council was in Disarray. Soon the word went public. Small Akavari forces had arrived in Morrowind and Blackmarsh. Skyrim made every effort to keep the Akavir off their coast.

Soon it was verified that the fleet heading to Valenwood was the main attack force. With this knowledge the council quickly made the decision to send a task force with the main army of Cyrodiil to reinforce Valenwoods Defenses. Councilor Achado, the newly appointed "Leader" of the Imperial province sends letters of urgency to the elite heroes and adventurers to meet in Southpoint…

Tiranus Ravenheart- Outside of the Imperial City, Cyrodiil. Turdas, 24 of Frostfall 4E275

The sun was in its peak as the last regiment of Cyrodiil marched from the gates of the Imperial city. Men and women donned in gold and silver armor with the mark of the Empire upon their shields. A handful of the empires elite foot-soldiers, numbering at just over one hundred troops to meet the original two hundred soldiers that had left earlier in the day. They stood at the ready on the bridge leading to the large marble gates of the great city accompanied by wagons of supplies and artillery at the rear. Each soldier mounted a white stallion, bred for these elite men and women.

At the front of the regiment was General Marcus, a man well known to the Empire for his tactics on the battle field. He waited on his horse with the royal flag carriers beside him. Soon his gaze came to a chestnut horse which approached from the road, it’s rider donned in dark Nordic iron armor, covered with a brown cloak, shield clasped to his back with his greats sword’ hilt appearing from underneath, his long sword sheath to the side of his horse. The man looked as if he was Nord by the appearance of his face, but distinct features of Imperial stood out just as much. As the man approached and came to a halt in front of the General.

“You’re early.” Marcus said placing his arm across his chest giving a slight bow.
“The message I received was urgent General, I know yer expectations.” Tiranus nodded his head, his lips forming a smile under the scruff of his face.
“Was it expectation or your lust for the battlefield?” Marcus questioned knowing the true answer behind Tiranus’ reason for rushing to meet the regiment.
“So when do we meet this army head on? Me blades thirst fer death. And what of this task force?” Tiranus eyed the numerous soldiers. It was no surprise they looked like rookies, the Elite of the Empires army rarely see the sight of battle. Many looked like seasoned soldiers, others were obviously raw recruits.
“Councilor Achado has sent messengers to gather a small group to join the defensive line in Valenwood and fight alongside the fifteenth battalion.” Marcus looked the soldiers behind him.
“So this is the strike force? Handpicked from the great general himself. I s’pose I will be leading the task force?” Tiranus rubbed his chin.
“I can’t think of anyone better to trust with this task Tiranus. You’ll be briefed once we arrive in Southpoint, for now we must get these troops to the front line.”

With that said Tiranus gave a nod turning his horse and moving forward. Marus raised his fist. “Regiment March!” was yelled out from the group as the Fifteenth Battalion began its march.

Royal Palace- Achado’ chambers

The room was Illuminated by only the chandelier and fireplace as Councilor Achado stared in the roaring flames. His thoughts only on one thing. He was a slender man, his dunmer face thin with a pointed nose. His red robes shimmered as the light from the fire gleamed its enchanted threads. The room was heavily decorated with portraits made by the finest artists of Tamriel and large bookcases behind the desk which made up his office on one side and his bed decorated with red gold trimmed sheets and maroon draqes on the other. He stood motionless as the door into his chamber creaked open with the footsteps of chainmail ringing from the door. “Councilor, word from the naval fleet arrived. They have met with the enemy three days off the shore of Southpoint.” The messenger held out a note his face showing signs of fear and doubt. Achado turned slowly and faced him taking the note and reading through it.

“Part of the Akavir fleet is heading to the shimmering Isles? I hope the few mages we have spared from the main defense is enough to hold the siege.” Achado’ voice trembled with signs of confidence. “Send word to the other provinces, A diplomatic meeting is long overdue.” The messenger bowed.

“Yes councilor, right away.” He turned and soon disappeared from site. Achado turned back to the fire. “Talos help us.”