Post by Neo on Apr 13, 2015 18:49:05 GMT -6
998 4E, 1st of Frostfall, Morndas, the Imperial City
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOJuMhtH9ZQ
The snowfall was surprisingly light that morn, that morning when the world went dark. Claudius Severin Mede the Second stood out on his balcony, just outside his room, wondering how, and when it had happened. When it had all gone wrong, how it had come to this. The day had started like any other; He was awoken by a knock on his door from his Chancellor, he kissed his wife, and left the comfort of his bed for a normal day at court. There had been no warning, of course. The Dragonfires had simply ceased to be. There was no rhyme or reason, or any semblance of logic or common sense whatsoever. The barriers that had been safeguarding Tamriel, and all of Nirn for so many millennia, simply went out. No great pillar of light split the sky, no booming voice from above announced the end. There was nothing at all, nothing but silence. It was a silence so deep and oppressive, so invasive, that it settled over the lands like a blanket of fog attempting to devour the horizon. It rolled off the bay and crept into the city without anyone being the wiser. The Legions came that same day, mere hours later.
"Your majesty, we must leave. If you fall here, all is lost. The Empire is lost. Tamriel itself will be lost."
He paid little attention to his old friend's urging. He knew he spoke the truth, but his legs would not move. He stood mesmerized by the sight of his city burning, his eyes transfixed on the thousand foot mass of darkness calmly wading through the bay, approaching the city at such a leisurely pace. His hands were still wet with blood- but whose blood was it? For some reason, he couldn't seem to recall.
"Your majesty, please, the enemy is already-"
No. Running will not change anything, for there is no place to run. No Empire to rebuild. What's done is done. His mouth twitched, forming the smallest of smiles.
"Fetch me a parchment and quill," the Emperor commands softly. "And bring me the Royal Seal."
Despite his obvious distress, the Chancellor does so. He places it on a small night table and brings it out onto the balcony. Hunched over a small table, surrounded by flames and destruction on all sides, he begins to write. And once he's done, he stamps the bottom of the page with the seal of Cyrodiil, rolls up the parchment, and carefully slips it into a small leather pouch, along with his own ring. He ties the pouch and turns to walk away, leaving it there. But before he leaves, he makes one final stop; the whistle in a drawer near his bed, used to summon Messenger Hawks. It was an old, outdated method of communication, but still a reliable one.
He slips it into his poket and quits the room, followed closely by his Second. "Your majesty, the underground tunnels have not yet been found by the enemy-"
"I am not fleeing," the Emperor says. He stops and turns, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, a man who had been with him since they were both bumbling children, decades before. He had been just a prince then, a mischievous boy who routinely snuck out into the city, disguised as a simple Stablehand. It was on one of those secret trips where he would meet his best friend; the son of a simple Baker, who rose to become the most trusted ally of the Emperor.
"Try to understand, old friend."
A single tear traces the Baker's son's cheek. "I do, my Liege. I do. Come... Let us pay our final respects."
The Emperor smiles and embraces him, and the pair of friends walk side by side towards the throne room, and into the chaos. They look at each other one final time and nod, drawing their swords in unison. The sound of newly drawn steel echoes in the silence, heralding the end of an era, as the doors to the throne room swing wide. Beyond lies a never-ending tide of darkness, and a lone woman standing tall, far above the rest, veiled in a Wedding Dress of shadows. The two friends smile, and charge.
---------
998 4E, 26th of Evening Star, Loredas, the Ash Fields of Solstheim
Nearly three months after the fall of the Imperial City, the War of Extinction came to an end upon the fields of Solstheim in what was to be called the greatest battle, and the greatest defeat, of the age. All of the surviving races, both man and mer, banded together for one last stand against the Dread Lord's Legions. With the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion at the center, lead by High King Summerset himself, and the remaining Imperial Resistance providing support, the Dread Lord suddenly found Himself standing before an army nearly a million strong. It was a force hell bent on survival, a force bred for one purpose and one purpose only; to slay a God.
The tactics of the Fool King were no less than brilliant. Thousands upon thousands of the Dread Lord's forces fell in a single day. The Army of Nirn, as they later came to be called, pushed the Dread Lord's Legions back to the shores of Solstheim, and there the High King of the Aldmeri Dominion met the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood in single combat. The two Titans fought for three days and three nights, even as their armies warred around them. Finally, the Listener began to grow tired. Her seemingly infinite supply of magicka began to run dry, and for the first time, the Legions stumbled. Surprise reinforcements from Morrowind arrived by sea, lead by the Black Queen herself, who was thought to have perished in the initial assault on the province.
Nirn saw a ray of hope. Caught between the two mighty forces, and a well staged ambush by the combined forces of the Prince of Elsweyr and the Orc King, the Dead Legions were nearly wiped out. Their greatest generals were slain, and the Listener found herself staring at the point of High King Summerset's blade. For a moment, the battle had seemed won. And then everything changed.
Realizing His imminent defeat, the Dread Lord descended from Aetherius in an explosion of power, sending a shockwave rippling across all of Mundus, tearing a hole in the sky itself. The Daedric Princes descended alongside him, each in their true forms, and began to lay waste to the armies of Nirn. The Black Queen vanished beneath a sea of fire. Confusion and despair tore through the ranks of the Orcs, as Lord Malacath decapitated the Orc King and denounced his people. The Prince of Elsweyr and his entire force were turned into rabbits by the Lord of Madness. A shadowy hand rescued the Listener before the Aldmeri King could strike, and in her place, he found himself struggling to survive against Mehunres Dagon, the Lord of Destruction.
The forces of Nirn were decimated. The entire island was blanketed with the bodies of the fallen. And as the Fool lay broken and bloody at Dagon's feet, and Sithis reached out His hand to claim him, something miraculous occurred, something that could only be described as the Sun and Moon joining together, as one. A total eclipse, and when it cleared, a resplendent being of light and fire was shielding the remnants of Nirn.
---------
The Battle of Solstheim ended in a devastating loss for Nirn, but not all was lost on that day. Sithis was forced to retreat and his army was forced to regroup before he could finish conquering Tamriel. Skyrim remains intact and untouched, protected by a mysterious and powerful barrier that appeared the same time as the Being. And there is you. You are one of a select few blessed by Magnus, and granted a small portion of Akatosh's power. You are one of the Shards; Men and women from all races and professions, who are destined to change the course of history, for good or for ill. It is up to you to determine how you use your power, and for what purpose. Will you set out on a quest of vengeance? Will you try to destroy the Dread Lord once and for all? Or will you cast your heritage aside, as the Listener did before you, and become an Avatar of Sithis? The choice is yours to make. The Dread Lord is weakened for now, but He will soon recover. Your only chance at survival, and the Dread Lord's greatest chance at total victory lies with the Elder Scrolls; legendary and ancient tomes of unfathomable power, scattered across the four corners of the globe. But can you find them in time? Step forth, my child, and be witness to this new era, this Era of Silence.
The Elder Scrolls: Return of Sithis
www.youtube.com/watch?v=bOJuMhtH9ZQ
The snowfall was surprisingly light that morn, that morning when the world went dark. Claudius Severin Mede the Second stood out on his balcony, just outside his room, wondering how, and when it had happened. When it had all gone wrong, how it had come to this. The day had started like any other; He was awoken by a knock on his door from his Chancellor, he kissed his wife, and left the comfort of his bed for a normal day at court. There had been no warning, of course. The Dragonfires had simply ceased to be. There was no rhyme or reason, or any semblance of logic or common sense whatsoever. The barriers that had been safeguarding Tamriel, and all of Nirn for so many millennia, simply went out. No great pillar of light split the sky, no booming voice from above announced the end. There was nothing at all, nothing but silence. It was a silence so deep and oppressive, so invasive, that it settled over the lands like a blanket of fog attempting to devour the horizon. It rolled off the bay and crept into the city without anyone being the wiser. The Legions came that same day, mere hours later.
"Your majesty, we must leave. If you fall here, all is lost. The Empire is lost. Tamriel itself will be lost."
He paid little attention to his old friend's urging. He knew he spoke the truth, but his legs would not move. He stood mesmerized by the sight of his city burning, his eyes transfixed on the thousand foot mass of darkness calmly wading through the bay, approaching the city at such a leisurely pace. His hands were still wet with blood- but whose blood was it? For some reason, he couldn't seem to recall.
"Your majesty, please, the enemy is already-"
No. Running will not change anything, for there is no place to run. No Empire to rebuild. What's done is done. His mouth twitched, forming the smallest of smiles.
"Fetch me a parchment and quill," the Emperor commands softly. "And bring me the Royal Seal."
Despite his obvious distress, the Chancellor does so. He places it on a small night table and brings it out onto the balcony. Hunched over a small table, surrounded by flames and destruction on all sides, he begins to write. And once he's done, he stamps the bottom of the page with the seal of Cyrodiil, rolls up the parchment, and carefully slips it into a small leather pouch, along with his own ring. He ties the pouch and turns to walk away, leaving it there. But before he leaves, he makes one final stop; the whistle in a drawer near his bed, used to summon Messenger Hawks. It was an old, outdated method of communication, but still a reliable one.
He slips it into his poket and quits the room, followed closely by his Second. "Your majesty, the underground tunnels have not yet been found by the enemy-"
"I am not fleeing," the Emperor says. He stops and turns, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, a man who had been with him since they were both bumbling children, decades before. He had been just a prince then, a mischievous boy who routinely snuck out into the city, disguised as a simple Stablehand. It was on one of those secret trips where he would meet his best friend; the son of a simple Baker, who rose to become the most trusted ally of the Emperor.
"Try to understand, old friend."
A single tear traces the Baker's son's cheek. "I do, my Liege. I do. Come... Let us pay our final respects."
The Emperor smiles and embraces him, and the pair of friends walk side by side towards the throne room, and into the chaos. They look at each other one final time and nod, drawing their swords in unison. The sound of newly drawn steel echoes in the silence, heralding the end of an era, as the doors to the throne room swing wide. Beyond lies a never-ending tide of darkness, and a lone woman standing tall, far above the rest, veiled in a Wedding Dress of shadows. The two friends smile, and charge.
---------
998 4E, 26th of Evening Star, Loredas, the Ash Fields of Solstheim
Nearly three months after the fall of the Imperial City, the War of Extinction came to an end upon the fields of Solstheim in what was to be called the greatest battle, and the greatest defeat, of the age. All of the surviving races, both man and mer, banded together for one last stand against the Dread Lord's Legions. With the forces of the Aldmeri Dominion at the center, lead by High King Summerset himself, and the remaining Imperial Resistance providing support, the Dread Lord suddenly found Himself standing before an army nearly a million strong. It was a force hell bent on survival, a force bred for one purpose and one purpose only; to slay a God.
The tactics of the Fool King were no less than brilliant. Thousands upon thousands of the Dread Lord's forces fell in a single day. The Army of Nirn, as they later came to be called, pushed the Dread Lord's Legions back to the shores of Solstheim, and there the High King of the Aldmeri Dominion met the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood in single combat. The two Titans fought for three days and three nights, even as their armies warred around them. Finally, the Listener began to grow tired. Her seemingly infinite supply of magicka began to run dry, and for the first time, the Legions stumbled. Surprise reinforcements from Morrowind arrived by sea, lead by the Black Queen herself, who was thought to have perished in the initial assault on the province.
Nirn saw a ray of hope. Caught between the two mighty forces, and a well staged ambush by the combined forces of the Prince of Elsweyr and the Orc King, the Dead Legions were nearly wiped out. Their greatest generals were slain, and the Listener found herself staring at the point of High King Summerset's blade. For a moment, the battle had seemed won. And then everything changed.
Realizing His imminent defeat, the Dread Lord descended from Aetherius in an explosion of power, sending a shockwave rippling across all of Mundus, tearing a hole in the sky itself. The Daedric Princes descended alongside him, each in their true forms, and began to lay waste to the armies of Nirn. The Black Queen vanished beneath a sea of fire. Confusion and despair tore through the ranks of the Orcs, as Lord Malacath decapitated the Orc King and denounced his people. The Prince of Elsweyr and his entire force were turned into rabbits by the Lord of Madness. A shadowy hand rescued the Listener before the Aldmeri King could strike, and in her place, he found himself struggling to survive against Mehunres Dagon, the Lord of Destruction.
The forces of Nirn were decimated. The entire island was blanketed with the bodies of the fallen. And as the Fool lay broken and bloody at Dagon's feet, and Sithis reached out His hand to claim him, something miraculous occurred, something that could only be described as the Sun and Moon joining together, as one. A total eclipse, and when it cleared, a resplendent being of light and fire was shielding the remnants of Nirn.
---------
The Battle of Solstheim ended in a devastating loss for Nirn, but not all was lost on that day. Sithis was forced to retreat and his army was forced to regroup before he could finish conquering Tamriel. Skyrim remains intact and untouched, protected by a mysterious and powerful barrier that appeared the same time as the Being. And there is you. You are one of a select few blessed by Magnus, and granted a small portion of Akatosh's power. You are one of the Shards; Men and women from all races and professions, who are destined to change the course of history, for good or for ill. It is up to you to determine how you use your power, and for what purpose. Will you set out on a quest of vengeance? Will you try to destroy the Dread Lord once and for all? Or will you cast your heritage aside, as the Listener did before you, and become an Avatar of Sithis? The choice is yours to make. The Dread Lord is weakened for now, but He will soon recover. Your only chance at survival, and the Dread Lord's greatest chance at total victory lies with the Elder Scrolls; legendary and ancient tomes of unfathomable power, scattered across the four corners of the globe. But can you find them in time? Step forth, my child, and be witness to this new era, this Era of Silence.
The Elder Scrolls: Return of Sithis
