The Profound Mark, the Elder Scrolls Story

Attribution's Share
and the House of Troubles...

Attribution's Share


They came to the Principality of <Sedition>, anon Attribution's Share. Upon an ebony tower they stood, the sky churning and sparking bolts of lightning over the horizon. Two lunar figures were held aloft in the sky, the clouds behind them.

Below, the Maze of Lies. Partially invaded by mountains, but infinite. Above the maze yet impossibly distant was a mountain, more beautiful than any other.

Winged snakes darted above the maze, a hundred meters long and rows of teeth. Three snakes surrounded the Dragonguard, lightning frothing from their skin like liquid, staring into them before returning to the sky.


The Dragonguard then descended in the tower, hoping to reach the maze. They encountered hundreds of beings, primarily Dunmeri, standing agape, staring at nothing and whispering distantly. Their minds were elsewhere. Some were having conversations, some were thinking aloud, but none of them purposefully. They had all already died, and come to <Sedition's> afterlife.


A single revolution had passed before the Guard were separated and were each viewing something they loved being destroyed by Mehrunes Dagon in some form. Jubal Sul saw NUMINIT home being destroyed by an Ash Titan, a Daedric dragon. <Nexius Telvanni> saw <Ninian Redoran> dying upon Oblivion, and an Ash Titan burning houses in the Imperial City. <Delysaurus> sees an army of <Northpoint> marching on Daggerfall, and his father causing his mother's death. Weer sees his mother dying to an Ash Titan, because he instructed them to flee to the Imperial City. <Kael> sees Camlorn's wall falling to the army of Northpoint, and his duke serving as a trophy to the Duke of Steel.

They were then shown their past failures, the Third Legion's death, every wife and child left alone, <Weer's> parents, <Del's> parents, Nexius' family, NUMINIT, Daia.

Lying on a ground of ebony they were surrounded by graves to Dagon, before a single shrine to Mehrunes Dagon. Many Gear-turns later they found the strength to persevere, and defeated the Trouble. It is said of the House of Troubles that Mehrunes Dagon tests thy will to continue.


The moons did not move, yet time passed. Deeper in the Maze, Hungers came and tasted each of the Guard, knowing their weaknesses. They returned with five Xivkyn, Daedra with the martial prowess of the Dremora and the magicka and intellect of the Xivilai. They had marks of Molag Bal, yet they were covered with marks of Boethiah. The Second Trouble.

Through nearly dying to this Trouble they learned of the Chimer, before they were Chimer. The Velothi. The Velothi followed their Prophet Veloth in running from the Aldmer, for they followed the teachings of Lorkhan. A being akin to all that is unholy and terrible in this world, to the Aldmer. They only way the Velothi survived is through the guidance of Boethiah and Mephala, teaching them the ways of Secret murder and Sedition. Through this they weakened the Aldmer and fled to Resadyn. Through this, the Dragonguard used foul traps and guile to destroy the Xivkyn, turning the dangerous Maze to be their ally. It is said of the House of Troubles that the preeminent Molag Bal tests thy will to resist domination.



Content Not Found: cass spoke to them suddenly, the first Whisperer to do so. She told them of the Gate to Limit, and how Boethiah's plane is structured similar to the Aurbis. Eggshells within eggshells. Transcending is possible, but the Snake Mount is barred to those protonymic.

Instead, she led them below, to the Gate to Limit.


Three levels lie below, the Outer City, the Deeper City, and the Well. The Guard here were incandescent, for their souls were still living.

 In the Outer City, there is jovial and selected crime rampant, followed by polite applause. It almost felt like <Dragonstar>, a home for adventurers and wayfarers, full of shops and temples for those that would Test themselves above, to one day ascend to Snake Mount.

In the Deeper City, the true afterlife of the Dunmer was found, for those who Test themselves not, and seek a peaceful existence until discorporation.

In the Well, those that are damned to Attribution's Share are found. <Cal> and <Josephine> were encountered there. Below the reversed spires was the Cerulean Sea, the replacement for the Dreamsleeve for only the Dunmer, as named by a Mysticist.


After discovering some lore, the Guard returned to their bodies and sought after the Right Hand. The Stasis to the Change.

One must conquer themselves before the world.


Here, each made a choice, and then knew what they wished to Change of themselves. 

<Knight Kael>, after seeing his homeland of Bretony and the more noble land of Hammerfell, chose the latter.. but wished to bring what he loved with him.

<Delysaurus> chose to pursue justice, but keep his hands clean.

<Nexius> chose knowledge and Change over his family, to finally become something.

Jubal chose to walk away from Azura's lordship and seek his own answers.

Their Change is accounted.


May the world below make them, and the worlds above take them, should they continue on this path.



Those that Guard the Dragon are registered by         


Chimera of Desolation
and how Jubal learned true Conjuration...


Chimera of Desolation


Being left upon <Principality known as Apocrypha>, the <untranslatable> known as Jubal Sul was consulting the Dreamsleeve for help from his allies upon the Mundus.

Gear-turns passed. Order invaded, platforms from beneath the briny liquid of the plane(t) surfaced, and the Army of Order attacked. The sane-shaper known as Ulms Drathen cut their physical forms.

Through the platform, the outer plane known as Certainty.


The <untranslateable> and his allies saw everything perfectly in it's place. The avatar-dominated known as Haskill of Sheogorath came to them, offering a gift from his Prince. It was a spell, or an offering of the mind, that would allow Jubal to throw his body and soul through the planes. Planar Dance.

Using this spell of randomized component and magicka, those that Guard the Dragon and the Dragon Emperor departed Certainty.


They apperated upon Adonea, the plane of journey and destination. Every path leads somewhere, the plane connects to all places. They attempted to move in the third, but could not, for only those who move in the sixth can travel upon Adonea.

Hell Hounds sent by Content Not Found: yurg came upon them, capturing <Nexius Telvanni> and nearly consuming Jubal. Their mundial magicks were contorted here, when Hawking attempted invisibility, ten thousand Hawkings were upon the plane. 


They escaped to the Fourth Sinus of Takubar, a collective realm of the Cold-Fire Atronachs.


They quickly left, but a failure in the spell sent them between the planes. To Dagon of the <JS-38>. There were pockets of un-space as well as areas of un-time. Nexius stumbled upon subjects of un-thought, where his mind could not comprehend the lack of subject matter.

They could not depart this plane, and so they traveled by accident to the Door-Key-Cage of old Dagon.

Here they met the Leaping Hare, and took it with them when they went hidden into the Door-Key-Cage.


They found a foggy inlet island, infinite for those of lesser minds. They met Old Man Chimere, the founder of Conjuration, who soon killed himself with three cups of Deathbell. Before the death of his body, he taught Jubal for one hour of Planar Migrant, in return for a soul gem of an Ash Zombie. 

Chimere was from <JS-38> as well as Dagon and the Leaping Hare. He had been trapped upon this plane for <uncountable>.


They then departed through the superior magicks, to the Principality known as Attribution's Share.



The Dragonguard have been registered by


and how Dagon triumphed.



Sul the Hunter's Chronicles of Super-Mundial Principalities


Authored by: NUMINIT

Co-Authored by: Jubal Sul



Author's Note


My name is [[NUMINIT]], a Battlemage working for none save himself. A damn good one, I would hope. One that holds the lost art of memospore, which is the very fabric of the manuscript your [untranslatable] now lie upon.

The Dragonguard and I returned to Oblivion, and it was outside our designed home where we glimpsed horrors unimaginable.

It was there that Sir Kael of the Dragon died.

It was there-here-that I may now apperceive my existence and all that it has begat.

It was and is here, where I am no longer. 



Part 2 of 4, Chapter 1



I am quite ahead of myself.

When we reentered Oblivion, I was confident we would follow the same paths as those we did previous. I was not aware of these paths being tampered with, not once, but twice. When we travelled backwards, we did not go to Mephala's Spiral Skein. We were shunted to the Deadlands.

Choking on soot, we looked bewildered at a dozen Dremora Churls surrounding us. Although barely clothed and of the lower caste, all Dremora were usually quite restrained and intelligent. I attempted to introduce myself, yet instead of listening, they all charged with feverish abandon, attempting to surround any one of us and butcher them with some sort of oily scaled shortswords.

Although they purposely did not hurt Nexius Telvanni, the situation was unfortunate, considering we were quite possibly in the most feral, chaotic, and physically dangerous plane known to the Empire.


Separating ourselves from the majority of the Churls on the bridge above a lake of lava, J noticed bars of moonstone and magical scrolls, arranged as if we were expected. The Churls clearly did not expect us to fade in from outside the plane, though. Sir Kael battled with Churl after Churl, attempting to parry aside every blow and managed to dismember at least two of the ferocious beasts, before a Caitiff came at him. Spikes looked riveted across his face and hw twirled Ebony maces about his head like they were weightless, and they fell upon Sir Kael much too quick and heavy for him to parry. We dragged him to safety, barely, yet he fell unconscious from the pain of being hit squarely in the chest with one.

The only thing between us and the Dremora remaining was a two meter gap in the fragmented bridge. The stalemate didn't last long, as a Dremora Xivilai began gripping the bridge with chained talons from the sky itself, tearing it asunder nearly perfectly. Then we fell.


3dead. It was disastrous, surely. Our fragments of stones served as temporary rafts in the molten fire, but they did so for our enemy as well. The battle continued as we rode them closer towards a Dremora fortress, arrows beginning to rain on us as a beast bounded across the top of the lava as if it were water-walking, and dueled with Nexius and the recovered Kael both.

One Dremora simply did not move, and was adorned differently. His skin was hued slightly darker, and possibly a shade purple. He simply watched.

Erupting from the lake of fire came a snake of bone, which spat fire across our rubble and threw the Caitiff which nearly killed Sir Kael into the lava.. as well as myself. I survived for a few seconds due to wearing my Ebony armor, which protected from the heat, yet the Caitiff would not release me as he was boiled alive.

It was Jubal that saved me, this time, sacrificing his Clannefear to pull the Caitiff beneath the surface of the lava. I flew away after that, and returned to my allies soon after, away from the river.


They me later of how the Dremora that watched called off the archers, and we later saw him far away, upon a mountaintop. Enigmatic.

We soon came upon, strangely enough, a Dunmer pacing a mound of dirt. He identified it as his own burial mound, and after some pressure, himself as an Ansei.

Surprisingly, Sir Kael was not offended by this. For anyone but a Ra Gada to even invoke the name of the old order would be an insult to it, to any Ra Gada. I do not know Kael very well.

This Ulms Drathen ULMS told us of a group of rogue Daedra, and due to Sir Kael's eagerness to learn more of his birth-people, he remarked that training Kael would not be impossible. Perhaps if he were to devote himself to such a task. The first step on this task was to carry a package. Ulms named it a Stone, and it was wrapped in cloth. We did not know what was inside.


The Dragonguard set out to meet with these rogue Daedra, believing them to be led by their old… ally. Vaqua. Approaching the "city" of Derikuro, we were surrounded by stripped women with skin of caked and cracked ash. They clawed and grasped at us as dark and foreboding Dremora Kynvals circled us. Only four of them, yet each was known to command and dominate hundreds of other Dremora.

One spoke, his voice reverberating like a dark forest.  "E'tah Mazken Ghartok". This [is/can be] (the) General('s) Hand(s). Perhaps he meant the Generals meeting inside the towers.

When none of us understood quick enough, he growled, his mouth dripping blood before saying "Impermanent children. You are not welcome here, but we do not serve Mehrunes Dagon, And he allows you on his realm. Would we be wise to bring your pitiful end?"

When we expressed confusion, he continued "You are temporary, and none can enter the Changing Plane without Mehrunes Dagon's acquiescence. You are his servants". The ash-women scream and recoiled away from us, as if we were monsters.

"The Council of Lords meet, and children will not disturb the Markynaz".

We were standoffish for quite some time, and stating that we were friends of Vaqua only warranted a wet, blood spitting laugh.


Explosions and angry screaming and horrendous scraping of metal came from in the city-towered. The women scattered in every direction, the Kynvals drew spears and sprinted with unnerving agility inside. Only seconds after, we followed, finding Vaqua already eliminating the last of them, before hefting the heavy Sword of the Moon Reiver over his shoulder.

"Greetings, servants of Mehrunes and Herma-Mora. It has been a world last we spoke, yet now I see you with all four eyes". Vaqilijikcar Va qwileh jiik car was his adorned name, or Vaqua. He explained how he has destroyed all resistance to Mehrunes Dagon, and when questioned he said "Resisting the tyranny of Mehrunes Dagon is foolish. I have crushed said resistance. Would you accompany me to offer their Lord and leader to our Prince?" He seemed terse, yet Hawking immediately caught on that he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

Mehrunes Dagon was listening.


I advised strongly against going to meet the god damn Prince of the Plane we stood upon. They noted this, and then we went to meet him. When we agreed, we traveled for days, yet were there instantly. This was common in Oblivion, especially upon the Deadlands, for whatever reason. The entire journey was to cross the infinity between us and the volcano which was always North. It took lava in from the clouded sky, as if it's white jet of flame went into it instead of out of it.

And then we had suddenly always arrived. The Palace of the Valkyn, where the Valkynaz meet, Mehrunes Dagon's personal guard. Even I do not know what the great Mehrunes need fear to warrant a guard. The same crocodile-dragon-like Daedroth that decimated Cheydinhal guarded the palace steps, inside it and throughout it was the decimation that was the Throne.

Daedra love thrones. They show their dominance.


In the center, but also everywhere, was the Lord himself.

Hawking recoiled in terror and began spouting messages of doom, Sir Kael tried to tell Weer that there was no hope, becoming manic and punching him perfectly in the gut, even denting his armor, causing Weer to froth a strange black liquid from the mouth, akin to retching.

Nexius and Jubal and I were stricken with fear, like an ant before being stepped on, but we did not take irrational action.

Mehrunes is a large golem made out of coal, charcoal, and other flammable materials. He has no arms, or four arms, and is surrounded by several floating hands. The hands have eye balls as fingertips. There are infinite lacerations all over his body, which are bleeding backwards, taking in blood and sucking in air even. 

Vaqua offered the Moon Reiver to him, as it was a piece of Dagon himself in the distant past. When Vaqua saw what we had become, he instructed us to wait outside. We did, simply being outside as opposed to somehow moving to get there, staring at the twelve foot tall Daedroth. 

Rifts opened, a light blue and briny liquid expunged from each. There was a sick crunching sound and more rifts formed, each like claw marks across the mountains, the skies, the walls. The Daedroth shrieked before wielding Jubal's Clannefear like a bat and smacking most of us aside, and it was then that Sir Kael slid into lava and his heart was burned from his chest and he died within seconds. Without a word or a scream, like a Knight. Weer carried his body as we ran, the rifts enveloping everything there was and nearing us, and Jubal helped me cast the spell to leave through one, letting us escape the plane before we were sucked to the Void between planes.



Part 2 of 4, Chapter 2.



Our stay here was brief, Weer simply mutilated himself, submitting himself to a contraption of the Dukes of Anguish under Molag Bal. Horrible techniques of physical pain and torture, which were designed to only cause pain, as the Duke revel in physical displeasure. I wonder why you would need a Duke of such a thing, but the Lord of Domination must have uses. We recovered a Pyrimid of Meridia here, it's every angle perfect. It was here Hawking opened the package from Ulms Drathen, and my precaution was revealed. Ulms Drathen led the half of the soul I gave a damn about from the Sword underneath, saved by Jubal and I's spells. It was a hollow victory, as he was most assuredly dead. He didn't even have his Animus to cast magic with. Funny. Redguard magic.



Part 2 of… the last Chapter.



After a few planes, we came to Apocrypha. There were plants like Venus Fly Traps about, within each, books. Bulbs of light flew around, following pages which floated on a mystical wind that we could not feel. Books extended in every direction, sometime on bookshelves, sometimes on waves of pages. Halls morphed into oceans of knowledge, and physical reality was subjective here, while other planes played with time. A Lorkhanic jest.

I embraced Jubal, for I'd finally led us here. "I've-ah-wanted to see this plane for quite a while. Well, any of the planes. Thank you for this opportunity J, allow me to look around some, but remember to always keep each other within sight".




The shelves extended miles higher, and I floated along them collecting books about concepts I could only dream before. Sir Kael climbed up above to eavesdrop upon a Seeker.


The Seeker spoke with an Urn, in which floated a mortal's brain in a briny liquid. 

"I know a thing", the Seeker lisped, a frisson of horror arcing through the undead Kael.

"Is it a thing worth knowing?" replied the brain, somehow speaking.

"You shall judge, Floater. I know Old Antecedent has entered into an agreement with the mortals, a compact, as they say. Is that nothing?"

"Next to Nothing". 

"It is a think that I have Known". The Seeker's tentacles oozed brine, as if they were milking eachother.


"I heard a discussion between Scrivener Uu-Thorax and the Eleventh Preceptor. They came into the Crepuscule, where I was quietly…."


"Yes. the Preceptor expressed skepticism, but then the Scrivener spoke a Word of Asseveration. Books scattered everywhere, ichor fountained from my ear-holes, and I knew what he said was a Known Thing".

"Garughh. Why?"

"He seems to have been paid a great price, something he dearly desired, but I could not clearly hear what, due to the injury to my ear-holes."

While Kael did not know that he was listening to a description of the Coldharbour Compact, he wouldn't have cared if he did know. He climbed upward and spoke with them, ignoring their attempts to kill him, for he was dead. He brokered a deal with them, and traded knowledge of Talos and the Tribunal using a Dwarven device to achieve immortality. In return, the Seeker told them of the Crepusculary, where timelines are stored.

To travel there, Weer manipulated the mind of his Daedric helmet, using it's desire to kill him to pen a book of the destination, reading it to travel there.



Crepescule means Twilight Observatory, which would usually indicate something relating to the Prince of Twilight, Azura. She embodies the change of one thing into another, Dawn, Dusk. The Crepescule details events, start to end, where it changes no more.

I was engrossed in my books, my trained Scamp Fertis carrying all two dozen of them. I kept trying to explain to Jubal how important what I reading was, even of the map god with a pocketwatch. They were confused, and I pointed out that they could always ask the Golden Eye, Hermaeus Mora. He was, of course, watching.


The tree had five branches, and a Seeker explained that this was because Five is the limit of our world. This was also mentioned in Moonshadow, when the sky had five gradients of the moons as they passed from Dawn to Dusk. The Dragonguard examined leaves, and found in truth the tree was infinite, but also observable by lesser beings. They eventually found the branch of the Great War, but found it black and decayed and hollow.


Glyph, who followed the Dragonguard silently.


I finished one book and asked J what he thought of the new ideas within. "Infinities inside infinities J, that is the damn Aurbis. Tell me, when a mage casts an illusion spell, you're affected by illusion right? But no one else, because your perception dictates your reality, just like alteration. Conjuration on the other hand embellishes the purpose of the center, but what if the center was always you?? Oh I see now, with this and the book on Protonymics.."

He just waved me away and said I was learning Mysticism spells now, but I believed this was so much more.

We almost didn't notice when grimy feelers gripped around Sir Kael, Weer, and Hawking.  


They were strapped to iron chairs, attached to a boat which did not sway in the waters, looking up at horror.
His voice sort of churdled through the water, every word coming from how it boiled and every sound escaped the depths before coming to their ears. But he said no words, for he is all words. He was extending an invitation.
"You wished to see me, is that not true? Feel sore you did not find the correct infinity. Yet I, Hermaeus Mora, have been watching you. You have something you will give me".
"I have become future, and portents of, and have seen all, in a previous world-which-was-mine. as well as his"
"I do know everything. But not this everything. Knowledge is.. liquid, when facts are altered. You will acquire the one piece I have not".


When they tried to speak, they were ignored. The Lord of Knowledge needed none from us.

"When the Dragon Breaks, changing becomes your.. instantiated percepting reality. Yet pure it was not for you. You.. Dragonguard.. possess this Mark." A tentacle speared through the boat but stopped sharp to wetly press against Weer's hand, indicating the mark. "What power gave you this?"

Kael tried to explain, but none knew the answer. I was starting to.
"Not adequate. You are now my servants. Discover this and make it Known to me, so wholeness can be known. Your reward shall be two Knowings. One you need and one you desire. Both may terrify you".


"The Thalmor is indisputably the most dangerous organization in the Aurbis. Moreso than Talos. They cannot be understood by such a soul as yours. Loreaine of the Time Dragon has become a puppet to them. They are the Other, and they hate everything that even smells like mortality.
And they are going to win in the end."



J and Nexius pulled out the book on Xarxces, reading it with will and transporting themselves to his underwater scriberoom. He was an old bearded man, except his beard covered all but his eyes. He was writing something, humming a pleasant tune in the language.

Xarxces told us, through floating pages with written text, that his master Auri-El has taken them. He told us the true story of how Auri-El and Hermaeus Mora were the same deity, until they saw all kalpas and times and found a truth. Auri-El the Anuic would never change, and so Mora was made, the piece that did change. He accepted the truth. This is why Xarxces followed him. The man smiled, showing no tongue or teeth. He had no words of his own-iaCO0ca5zuFtoYi8wWNUMINIT.


I apologize. I am resubmitting this memospore due to words-applicable of the secrets hidden in my higher books. I grip J's face in my hands and tell him that what I need to tell him will sound insane, but he is the only one I have to tell.

"You may think I am wasting time, J, but I would say that all our lives have been wasted, and now I am the only one doing anything of note.. it is all about the duality of cloven divinities, J. The Void that remains. Infinite splits of the Highest-Hearts, then the four known and the three unknown. I know them now. Nameless more, for his count was born of a previous. Of the last, I would call it dementia, as you have known in the future, but when applied to the Doom, it is appended with dimension. Dementia given dimension, dimension dementia.." Jubal holds me worriedly, I look into him but not through his eyes.

I go now to Xarxces and pull his pen from his grip, and begin writing the fabric of the talOS, humming the same tones that the Scribe had. J tries to stop me, I do not stop, he can not stop me. "eight-and-one divine cross-structs, reinforce convention but now never was. t-a-l-O-S of the wheels in wheels in wheels".

I turn to J and focus upon him. "Damn the Daedra. Damn the Aedra and the Magna Ge, this is bigger. Vaporization by adjacentia".


I begin singing in the language of the Captive Sage-N7YIdMSHGW4bRGTzZF3u

I am against the wall opposite the Scribe. I look around fearfully, for I see too much, or too little in it all, too little in myself, for myself is not. It burns in my mind… My eyes unfocused, I look towards my hand but am looking at much, much more.

I hold J again, my touch wispy as I evaporate. As I deny, still fragmenting pieces of ideas to this manuscript and memospore, my truest last thoughts.

"Pray to Nerevar for me. He was the first.. to believe in us".


1 - 1 = 0




<The rest of the transmission is untranslatable, except by way of sheet music, a practice which has become unadvisable during the reign of [NUMINIT], who, along with everyone else in the symphony's radial madness, was vaporized>




<Journal of one Jubal Sul, as he views the memories of Hermaeus Mora, as realities.>


Normal people would keep a journal, a nice book maybe. This Daedroth keeps his memories in damned realities. Here we go.


4E174A - Imperial City

Did Vaermina want us to see something here?

Calesse Thilinus and Jondis do not turn from the Battle of the Red Ring, instead, they join the charge. Not what happened.

Dark red light from the top third of the White-Gold Tower.  Not what happened.

Vel as Vampyrum slave, in Vorana's position as Magus-General.

Amaund Motierre was Vampyrum, but did not go fast enough for Lavolia Dex's liking. Probably why she had him killed. She is also much more afraid of the Thalmor. Much. Probably why the Elder Scrolls just vanished when she took over.

In the top 1/3 of tower, some floors were cleared out, glowing zipping lights darting around the room, as well as large soul gems implanted into the walls at various points, ghostly heads trapped in ebony cages that all talk at once. In the center; Yurg. Each ghost-head was also sometimes just one organ of communication. A nose, an eye. Hard to tell who or what it was, or where the lines between were. At least some Dwemer in there.

He called it OYARSA. It was to be the general of all the legion. He opened a Doldrum to Coldharbour.


4E195A - Battlespire

Valenwood burned down, all the Bosmer in the Wild Hunt.

Eleswyr devoid of cities, 100% desert.

Redguards somehow wiped out racially, perhaps by their pantheon.

Glyph sort of, puked up an explanation, in the form of a scroll. "OYARSA with the data-mind of a Dwemer planned this. It is total war, in every sense".

Yagrum is dead, the part of the soul that is his mind was kept while the other (3/4?) is gone. Just the intellect, no individuality.


4E201A - Flagship/CLL

Titus Mede II, thought dead, back.

VAmpyrum and Empire allies.

Dominion almost defeated.

Loreaine afraid, but atop Crystal-Like-Law, she "dracocrysalizes". Unknown what this means, but she became a fucking dragon. So. I want.

Scratch that, she was afraid of losing all her individuality. Bad.


4E174AB (?????) – Back to Imperial Palace

Because it is a memory of an extratemporal being, it is viewed as events transpired. (This isn't DC universe timelines, this is fifth-dimensional travel)

Mark vs Marked

Cal and Jondis and more kill Yurg, but not before he asks OYARSA some questions.

OYARSA = Ghost Choir.

OYARSA says the Dominion's strength is belief/lack thereof?

OYARSA says Nexius is a Dwemer…

OYARSA was designed as the counter to everything the Thalmor can do. Sounds like the Imperials to counter all the accomplishments of Elves.

OYARSA kills Cal and Jondis and all them by singing the same song gALYRON AND XARXCES WAS SINGING. THIS IS NOT OKAY.

Loreaine as a dragon comes in the window, resets all that, then takes off the crown of the dragon.

She isn't a god. She orders all the Dominion to murder many innocents to allow for some power. 

What Dawn Magicks are isn't answered, but it is said that they aren't understandable, by definition. Perhaps they can only be done by gods? Perhaps they're just a catch-all term for magic we can't do, but they can. 


Thalmor rewriting of Time. A loss is just a sentence in need of revision.


A – Thalmor    lose.

B – Loreaine dracocrysalizes, rewrites time, does some more Dawn Magicks on the White-Gold Tower, Empire retakes the city a year later

C – When the Marked broke/fixed time.

and how the Hare escaped.



Sul the Hunter's Chronicles of Super-Mundial Principalities


Authored by: Galyron Ven-Sul

Co-Authored by: Jubal Sul



Author's Preface


My name is Galyron Ven-Sul, a Battlemage employed by the Empire, and a master Enchanter and Conjurer. Clearly I do not take planar travel as a secure or even reliably safe escapade. I had not yet escaped the Mundus, yet the catalyst for this first journey was dire indeed.

My allies in the new Akaviri  Dragonguard had acquired knowledge of twenty-five years of the Great War between the last Empire and the Dominion. Twenty-five years which the Dominion had erased. Twenty-five years in which the Dominion was losing, before they erased these years. This knowledge was acquired from the last survivor of the Cyrodilic Vampyrum, who served the Thalmor out of fear.

As my companion Hawking has stated: "We have been stomping out rats in the home, while lions loom across the sea".

There was only one way to learn of the Dawn Magicks the Dominion used, only one library outside of time's direct influence and control… and so we planned to leave the only home for mortals to the Oblivion, to save our Empire, and possibly the world.

To Apocrypha.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 1

The Puncturing


A mage needs two things to travel through Oblivion: First, a Daedric sigil of some sort, upon a morpholith aligned with the first destination plane, which is to say the plane that will be linked to Mundus. Second, a sixth-dimension way of travel. Oblivion is, as some might say, a dimension higher than our Mundus. They are affected by time but are not wholly subject to it, and to travel impossibly through a dimension as we plan to, we must bend through the dimension above.

Jubal Sul, my adopted brother who is not yet endowed with an honorific title, calls himself the Champion of Azura. I do not trust Azura, and do not see the benefit of calling a banished Daedra an ally. Nonetheless, he possesses the first of our two required items: Azura's Star. The Second is a passed down way of the Sul family, using a spell called Sul's Passage. I call it Soul's Passage. To explain it in nonacademic language, the planes are leafs of parchment, and if one takes a needle and stabs it through each leaf, we have our sixth-dimensional legs.

Through these rifts, we can move through the planes. While it is not the favored way by the greater community, and my close friends in the College of Whispers might berate me for using it, it serves our needs well.

Our late friend Nymaril had a Daedric Altar already brimming with traces of Oblivion. There, Jubal and I took the star, and pierced the planes. It was to be a benign Door to Oblivion, and so Akatosh's Covenant was satisfied-see the most recent Greymarch-and Azura seemed agreeable to this. At least, from our perspective upon Nirn, it was the ideal choice.

I held the Star upon the Altar, both hands upon the spokes, and as my magicka was poured into it, the gem in the center began to absorb light, the room becoming hazy and shadowed, the walls visibly vibrating while no tremor was felt. Our perceptions began to float as our bodies remained still, before these perceptions turned inside themselves and we saw an array of a hundred possible rooms the same as ours. I brought my hand down upon the Star, and we were thrown back together, staggering. The Star was missing, the room normal.

To all but J and I, that is. We could sense, but not see, a small rupture. It was as if we were blind and reaching along a wall to feel a crack, except our fingers are tendrils of our own Magicka, and the wall is the Liminal barrier.

I turned to my brother J and told him what I had not forseen. Azura chose to assist us in this casting, and while it is possible to do it without the Prince's assistance, it is much more likely to succeed. We were being invited to Moonshadow.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 2




"Are we ready?" I asked my allies.

Hawking the Spymaster had travelled to the shrines of every Prince whose plane we planned to visit, paying them tribute in every known form, and so he nodded, surely we were prepared.

Nexius Telvanni and Jubal Sul had studied new spells for days, and could cast magicks most men and mer could only fathom, and so they nodded, surely we were prepared.

Ninian Redoran and Sir Kael of the Dragon had sparred with their conflicting styles for months, each searching for beasts to train against, and even Buoyant Armigers joined their duels, and so they nodded, surely we were prepared.

We weren't totally wrong.


I nodded in response, and our world shattered. It was as if everything we saw was a glass pane, which had just collapsed and fallen away. Replacing it was a whirling mixture of black matter and nothingness, the only constants being the Sun, Stars, and the sensation of falling-not in any direction, but every direction at once. A blink which felt like a year later, we realized we hadn't moved our feet at all, yet we were standing someplace else. 

Only Jubal could see, and even then only a meter forward. We were all thrown to the ground, trying desperately to cover our eyes as piercing daggers of beauty and light were thrust into them. The pain faded but we were stricken blind, all that remained was the afterimage of a tall silver tower. As we lied there, hairy, rough hands came onto us, and we were dragged into some sort of building. The blindness started to fade, and Jubal could begin to see clear enough to make out the twenty or so various forms of Khajiit around us, all looking over eachother curiously. 

They spoke over eachother, like a choir of birds joining in.

"Who are you?".

"Yes, who!".


"Names don't matter!"

"Tell us now!".

Jubal silenced them and replied "I am Jubal Sul, the champion of Azura".

"Azura!" one yelled.

"He serves Azura!"

"The Moon and Star?"

"The Dawn and Dusk?"

Jubal sighed "Yes, of course, I am he-". He was interrupted by one of the Khajiit throwing a lit candle with a green flame upon him, and he had to scramble not to be burnt. They all gasped when he held it. Confused, he tossed it back to them, and a Cathay caught it, the color of her hand blurring to reveal a light white glowing mass underneath, like a gemstone, but translucent.

I looked up towards them and blinked through the fading blurriness, before explaining this to my brother "They're dead, J. This is the Khajiit's favored afterlife". I sat back against the wall, depleted of Magicka and quite tired.

Moving felt surreal, like we were severely intoxicated, yet our minds were unaffected. 

"This is Raytiir," chimed one of the Khajiit, who looked like a Bosmer with unusual facial hair "We have not gotten living visitors since the Dunmeri monster.. did what he did".

They explained mortals could look East, towards the rising stars and moons. It was always Dawn and Dusk, they said, as willed by the same. West was only allowed for those that had the blessing of Azura, towards the setting stars and moons. Across the sky were five gradients of light, simply because Five is the limit, which was not explained to us.

Jubal is faithful to Azura, and so he went out into the city devoutly. It was only a hundred feet across, yet each building had dozens of interiors. He could look west, and was baffled by the view, falling more in love with Moonshadow after every vista.

The strangest and most worrying part was how every single thing we saw seemed to drip like a wet painting or a melting snowman, if one stared without moving, everything began to flow like water, leaving the head spinning.


Whilst I recovered my Magicka, Jubal heard that every Mortal traveler to Moonshadow received an audience with Azura herself, and so he spoke to a Winged Twilight. It landed before him between two clay houses, and it's eyes began glowing. Jubal said her voice came not from the mouth, but from inside him, as a friend. She spoke of Varillion, the True Nerevarine, and how he abandoned his destiny to travel to Akavir. She gifted him with a Scroll of Daedric Intervention, possibly her last influence she will have upon Mundus for quite a long time. 

She took him through the air, where they flew, but not through any visible method. They simply flew because Azura willed it. She showed J underneath Azuriel, where there was a large crystalline waterfall around the central tower, and down it, he saw the water end in the underground Cerulean Sea. He did know not what this meant. She would not show herself to him, perhaps because of Vivec. He was told he would use the Scroll when Destiny requires him to, for Azura's wishes.

I believe she was just getting off on being Mysterious with prophecy, she hadn't been able to for a while. Nonetheless, J returned and we departed to the next plane.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 3



I took a step, traveling the Soul's Passage, and we were next to a river of blood, the smell of blood overwhelming the senses. Another step and we were being buried under an infinite mountain of insects and carrion crawlers and some sort of twitching ooze. After struggling through another step we arrived in an idyllic countryside, with prancing deer and lilies, the air smelling of a mixture of flowers and rot.

I informed my Dragonguard allies that this was the Desideratum, and after recalling our previous dealings with Clavicus Vile, we agreed to quickly move on, as the Prince of Deals might not appreciate our rescindment of a previous deal. Not before a fruitless look around, though.

Another step, and we were spinning as we fell, before I was separated from my allies. I experienced only nightmare, too personal to retell. I shall transcribe their experiences upon this plane instead, as they were eager to share.


They were standing on a swirling light blue floor, but it felt solid like glass.
They were all alone, on a sinking ship, the crew slaughtered, water forcing it's way into their lungs.
They were all alone, running from a dozen werewolves. They were scratched and each turned into one of these beasts, beginning a murderous rampage, slaughtering all they loved, and savoring it. Which is worse, killing those you love, or enjoying doing so?
They were all alone, falling from the White-Gold Tower, plummeting to their doom.
They were all alone, surrounded by vampires, diving and tearing them apart.
They were not alone, and had been on this swirling glass floor for quite a while. They braced themselves for the next jump, but it didn't come.


The glass was endless, and the sky black, save a single star, far away.

A soft voice whispered in their ears, although there was no source. "Those-that-are-Marked, I would allow you to stride through the false memories for many a cycle, yet you have given me a gift. Mortals are not logical and it is so known. I give you a chance to tell me why, else I shall tear the knowledge from you".

Sokel, although a demonized version, flowed through the glass like it was liquid, and coiled around them. They had met the feathered serpent avatar of Vaermina in the No-Quin-Al desert a year and a half ago.

She was referring to how Nexius Telvanni gave up the fond memory of his mentor in a deal with Clavicus Vile, replacing it with nightmares. 

"I am not benevolent. It is so known to the lesser forms. Yet I help each, in turn" whispered Sokel, again into the ears of each of them. "Mortal dreams allow the immortal soul a tool to peer at the incomprehensible infinity that is this pitiful Aurbis. I assist you. I always have assisted you in raising yourself to become more, but do not mock me with sympathy, pathetic mortal. I will torture you, and horrify you. You will hate me, as the Dunmer do.. but you desperately need Nightmare, I help you sift through your own mind, your own Dream".

Jubal desired to speak with her, but I believe she was only telling them this to appear mystical and wise. She "gifted" the Dragonguard with more Nightmares. It does dawn on me, though, that Vaermina could be considered one of the "good" Daedra. She hardens you through accepting the realities you cannot, by experiencing them. That is what she showed them.

Cheydinhal was destroyed by Daedra and armies of legionaries.
The Thalmor destroying the White-Gold Tower.
Hawking becoming the same wererat he fought last year, and murdering his parents.
Forsythe being a slave to the Thalmor, from birth, and Sir Kael being a weak servant unable to stand up to this.
The capital of Morrowind, Blacklight, destroyed by Nordic warriors, and all of the Dunmeri culture destroyed and forgotten, the Thalmor coming to conquer all.


Jubal Sul has always worshipped the Three Good Daedra, and so saw the wisdom in accepting hardship. Through these visions, he accepted the possibilities, and took inspiration from his sights on Moonshadow. He studied all he saw and developed plans of defense for Morrowind. His will was made stronger.

Sir Kael of the Dragon saw himself and his Duke Forsythe being weak, and scoffed. These visions were impossible to him, there could be no such reality. He forever was strengthened against Illusion.

Nexius Telvanni perhaps discovered the truest teaching. He accepted every vision as a possibility, as all possibilities are true to a Moth Priest. He accepted the Change that each could cause, even if it meant his family killed, his Legionaries allying with Daedra, his world under Thalmor. It brought some peace.

Hawking and Ninian chose not to speak of what they saw. All awoke upon the same glass floor, just far enough away to be unable to comfort eachother. I was left with them, and once the shaking subsided, we could move on. Battered and broken.

I had to question their resolve after this horror, before going deeper into the bowels of Oblivion. "We were not prepared for the mental aspects of super-mundial travel… Perhaps we should return". I was not convinced, but we needed to press on. The Thalmor must not rule Tamriel.



Part 1 of 4, Chapter 4

Hunting Grounds


We were standing upon a mountain of pure ice, and strangely, all the horizon and sky is also ice, infinite in size but there nonetheless.
We were falling through infinite ash, getting caked with it, choking on it.
We were in the deepest, greenest forest I'd ever seen.. and I started cursing all the Et'ada. I was sure our escapades were at an end.

They looked at me confused, so I explained "A few more turns and we'd have been in Apocrypha, he must have sniffed out the rift and laid a trap"

"He?" Hawking asked, wringing his hands while hoping it was one he had left an offering to.

A terrifying horn sounded, piercing us and echoing in the enormous cavern once, twice, thrice.

"He, the Father of the Manbeasts, the Chase. Prince Hircine".


Nexius Telvanni pulled some journals from his pack and began sifting through them, while I told them of another rift which we could escape through. Five miles north. Then another horn answered the first, directly north. It seemed the Wild Hunt was prepared for our coming.

"There is another way!" Nexius called to us, making us realize how much he was lagging behind.

Sir Kael picked him up, the Slimeblood in the mage's veins making his legs useless here.

"The Chapel of the Innocent Quarry is Northeast, if we are sanctioned by the hunt we can gather six keys and escape. Prince Hircine always leaves the Hare, us, a chance. It is his way. The Huntsman reflects on the tragic imbalances of power and the cruel injustices of the world". He explained some more but Sir Kael, leading the group, began running in that direction. He hoped to avoid the Huntsman Bold and his Hounds altogether.


Upon a cliff face, the trees were snarling and creaking as they tried to bend to hurt us. As we were distracted by this, a chariot pulled by wolves animated by nature careened around the hills. A dozen or so archers and a very large Nord was on it's back. Sir Kael and Jubals' reactions saved us, and a summoned Clannefear protected us as we decided to ride a tree down the side of the steep cliff. We almost died, and Sir Kael broke his left leg.

Holding onto the side of this tree was the large hairy Nord, who told us of how Firian Vanos, Moviris Sadras' late wife, had him join this hunt. To find his son, Nexius Telvanni.

Nexius was perturbed at this, he expected his father to be someone of note, someone intelligent. Not a hulking Nord hunter. He learned that as a child a Mythic Dawn Agent came into his bedroom and killed his parents, sometime later being found at the orphanage steps.

The Nord picked up Sir Kael and Nexius, and we willed ourselves faster, to escape the howling wolves.. and direbears.


Jubal and Kael sanctified themselves for the Hunt, being named Huntsmen as well as Hares. It was upon a log bridge we made our stand. The Nord "died" to a spear, leaving Sir Kael in the dirt against the Huntsman Bold, and the soul-rending Spear of Bitter Mercy. A touch would kill. The Knight Kael and the Huntsman Bold fought, Kael managing to disarm him and take the spear, although the Daedric Huntsman simply grew more blades from his body and ran closer. He acknowledged the honor in the hunt, and Kael promptly impaled him in the right eye. He withered away and was absorbed into the Spear.

Jubal's Clannefear saved me from a Werebear, soon to die from it, but not before Hawking accepted the blessing of Hircine and became a Werehawk, diving at the Werebear with sword-like talons and feathers that were slick as oil. He tore at the beast's neck and tendons stained the river.

Nexius' father had a key, the Huntsman had a key, and a chest left in the sole clearing for miles had three keys. It appeared the Hunt was indeed possible. We needed only one more, and to find the Chapel of Daedric Rites.


Running to the cliff face where the rift to escape the plane was, the Dragonguard decided to turn and speak to an aspect of Hircine. I was demanding that they come with me and escape this plane immediately, as a stampede of Stone Giants was coming for the cliff.

The Aspect asked them if they planned to take the cowards route and escape the hunt as the Suls do, to which Kael already knew his answer.

Jubal was more divided, and so they paused, looking at eachother. They knew they were close.

"We are not cowards" Kael stated. The cliff evaporated and the rift was gone. We were stuck here, and I was quite mad.

Hircine gifted them the last key and told them "The last lock was accepting your place as the Hare, acknowledging that injustice comes to every being, no matter how they run". He dissolved into black powder.


The stampede was only getting closer, and Kael and Jubal were just gripping the chain of keys together and meditating. I was vehement now, demanding that we get behind the Daedroth I summoned for safety, but they chose to sit in the open and meditate. They were right, in the end.

They saw what I did not, even with my knowledge of Oblivion. They, sanctified as Huntsmen, meditated on the imbalance of power in the world.

This is the purpose of the hunt.

Kael, who came to this first, was transported to the Chapel of Daedric Rites. He climbed the stairs with a broken leg, a symbol of his perseverance in the face of nearly unbeatable odds and injustice. It was all he had sword Oaths against, in reality. Atop the chapel he placed one key in six floating hands, and the portal opened, and we had escaped the Wild Hunt.

Hircine as a much more solidified Aspect, took off his own black hide cloak. Giving it to Sir Kael, telling him of how it will turn the blows of Oathbreakers and Spellcasters. The Savior's Hide, made of a corrupted Unicorn.



And so our journeys through Oblivion reached a pause, finding a safe place to rest through the next plane. We will not be discouraged in the face of these horrors, for our purpose is irrefutably dire, and our wills refutably unbreakable.




Perimundal Delivery: souljewel count: 0000-34-43-11-837

I submit this manuscript to Memospore, so that those that may follow us Above may know what awaits them.

The ending of the words is-

and the Tower of Fyr




Jubal Sul

Sir Kael

Nexius Telvanni





1st of Rain's Hand, 4E252

Rhône-Ardennes the Tsaesci was rowing a completely Tamrielic boat across the lower Niben, while his ally Ràler-Brindle was swiveling his head and watching the waters, on a dewy spring morn.

The grass tinted Tsaesci grimaced at the inefficiency of the Tamriellic tools, before making a snide comment towards Ràler-Brindle. "You should not have allowed the Rimmen-savior to find you. The future-tasting ones could eat and follow".

The clay and sapphire hued Tsaesci ceased all movement and stared at Leyawiin, his scales swirling in circles over his body, distantly murmuring. "They are returning to the city of His mirror-brother". Leyawiin was ten miles north, yet this did not seem to matter, as it was in sight.

Rhône-Ardennes leaned forward over the bow of the rowboat, rowing harder towards the Star-Wounded East. "You disagree on their ability. They can Love. Perhaps he is the one who will oppose-"

"I acknowledge it. The Digitals are watching us yet again". Râler-Brindle turned away, staring at his counterpart with concern. "Silence, it cannot know".

The two Tsaesci continued East, to where they knew the Marked were headed.



1st of Second Seed, 4E252

Rhône-Ardennes peered from between the floorboards of the dock, staring up at the Marked as they explored Bosmora.


"Isn't slavery illegal now?" Weer asked his friends, gesturing to a trio of chained Argonians.

"Definitely was!" Yuken chirped, "Looks like hes selling them at a bargain though".

Weer growled, marching towards the Dres slaver while gripping his katana. "I can't believe you'd return to this so quickly. Tell me how much they are".

"Five-hundred for you" he replied.


Jubal Sul sighed and strode over, putting his arm around the man and smiling "Perhaps we can come to sort of arrangement. You see, my bodyguard here and I come from the resettlement of Vvardenfel, and need a few extra hands. I'm really just a nice man trying to buy some slaves".

"My greatest apologies, sera, I had mistaken you for n'wahs. Three-hundred".

Making the deal, Jubal gave them to Weer aboard Yuken's ship, where he began attempting to train them.



3rd of Second Seed, 4E252.

Râler-Brindle picked through the remains of the Netch-farmer, still arcing bits of lightning, in the Eastern Arm of Morrowind.

His grass-colored ally was coiled behind the door, awaiting any intruders. "The virus of consuming intrigues me. Feed us more".

"If you do not have it, you can not. You are not the impression of one of the true Egg. Regret".

Rhône-Ardennes' throat clicked as he advanced menacingly. "You say I can not return".

Standing, Râler-Brindle's scales expunged the blood of the farmer. "A singular Regret. You have a greater plan in this Egg. Should be honored".

"Honor is of the enemy. Check on the future-ones".

After consuming the farmer, which is to say, kicking him aside after investigating his remains, the clay and sapphire Tsaesci went out of the cabin and peered through the Emperor Parasols of Morrowind toward the sea. "Leaving Bosmora, ship destroyed by the Camonna Tong, now traveling north to Necrom. It appears they are partaking in toxic mushrooms. The Ra Gada has went ahead recklessly".

"Fools, yes, but saviors they may be".



6th of Second Seed, 4E252.

Ràler-Brindle watched from afar as the Marked went into the City of the Dead, Necrom. There were glorious white towers and a necropolis built all throughout the wall of the city. After being turned away by the Ghost Watch, he simply ate them from outside the city.


Dravis Indoril embraced Nexius Telvanni, brushing bonemeal upon his forehead before greeting them. "My friends. It has been too long.. and quite another time. The woman that brought us together died to the Tsaesci, the nixheaded fool. I welcome you to my city.

Dravis brought them throughout the city, describing how all of Morrowind favors it more than even the capital, for it has never been taken, and is where all the heroes and greatest citizens of even Resadyn's history are burned and buried. Veloth himself can even be spoken to, once every few years. The saints shall find their bones here.

Nexius was more than intrigued with this history he didn't know, and became absorbed in the texts, and Weer was left to guard him, while Sir Kael and Jubal explored the city.


Jubal Sul spoke to the Archcanon of the Cathedral of the Dead, learning of how to properly worship his Grandfather, and researched anchient texts. He learned the identity of what he had thought was his grandfather, which was in reality, The Grandfather. He turned to the Archcanon with this realization and quoted the texts, many Dragon Breaks ago and of quite another land, from Veloth's exodus. The identity of his family. "My family’s name comes from the first child born in Resadyn, Haeko-dol-Sul, and, like him, we are salt merchants. Our crest is the tusk of the bat-tiger."


Rhône-Ardennes cursed their separation, for he counted a dozen-and-one ways to approach and murder each one now they were alone. Nonetheless, he followed the two throughout the city, where they met a troupe of Buoyant Armigers. Servants of Vivec, even through his absence. They wore beautiful malachite armor that even the Tsaesci respected.

He watched as Sir Kael and one of the warrior-poets dueled, and it seemed a perfectly even match, the difference in weaponry and tactics causing the warrior-poet to win. He told Kael his name as a reward for the duel. Cato.

Jubal spoke with a mage of the Armigers, one who repeated the line 'egg, image, man' from one of his dreams. His name was Cygne. The line continued, 'god, city, state' and was to represent the journey of the Tribunal's blade, ALMSIVI.

Due to a shared respect, and admiration of Jubal's newest tattoo depicting Vivec's spear, they joined them as they sailed to the Telvanni Isles, to the Tower of Fear, which was revealed to be the Tower of Fyr, Divayth Fyr.



21st of Second Seed, 4E252.

In one room, Sir Kael and Jubal encountered a lens of the future. It showed Nexius as the lone survivor of the Second Great War, very bitter and hostile, as the disappearance of Kael and Jubal in the Tower of Fyr caused the Dragonguard to never meet with them, and Ninian to die in the tower. Not much was said between them, as Jubal believed it to be a threat and not a true vision of the future.




Râler-Brindle stared in all directions at once, observing the four as they entered the Tower of Fyr. His scales were rapidly dancing across his body as he tracked their four-and-a-half dimensional movement.

Divayth Fyr's apparition poured sujamma as a gesture, knowing the Tsaesci would not drink. "Welcome to dinner, my friends. Perhaps we could trade meals, and consume together".

Rhône-Ardennes' piercing eyes watched the sujamma, before he sat near the grand mage, not trusting something he has eaten so little of. "Perhaps indeed. You may begin".

As the strongest mage currently living, Divayth certainly knew more than any mortal. In his mind, at the very least. "I am amenable, so very well. The correlation between Color and Time is much more than any know, save Mystery and I".

The grass hued Tsaesci wriggled in the chair, taking the words. "I can not swallow these. I am sure the other Hatchers shall acknowledge". He paused for a second. "The Tsaesci come West, to remember. When my consummates did, it was due to the dragons of the East. Now, after a new and another trumpet season, we come due to the one that remains. Him".


Still watching the Marked, Râler-Brindle made a slick choking sound, which was akin to a laugh. "It seem your chose, Rhône-Ardennes, are entering the tower a third time. Being trapped inside the forever-food and speaking with the Outer One did not dissuade them. Yet now they speak with the last forgone purger".

"Ah, but Raler, my friend" said Divayth, "Did Yagrum's energy-lens detect the future as your tasting does?"

After making a feral clicking sound, the Tsaesci Hatcher turned away, watching as Divayth's prediction was proven true. "Perhaps you were right, Egg-cousin and gray one, these Marked shall become the Dragonguard. Not before you unravel their food-form fully, Rhône-Ardennes. Now that the mage, Nexius, has proven his ability with the forgone purger's creations, you are to Love the two favored ones, ignore the Digitals, for they are still watching".


Rhône-Ardennes ended the test, and went down to Sir Kael and Jubal, who had been inside the Tower of Fyr for three weeks. He greeted them, and they were too distraught to wonder why he was here. He told them to continue, he must Love them both. He had Kael get upon the table in the pus-filled Corpusarium, got close in his face, the leathery smell of his breath not foul so much as peculiar. Jubal looked away, as he didn't want to see what would happen when the Tsaesci dropped his pants.

"Tell me of your family". The Tsaesci asked, first. Sir Kael looked very confused but didn't hide anything from the snake.


Every question concievable by Rhône-Ardennes was asked, to each man in turn, also sparring for hours every day, having Jubal cast every spell a hundred times. After three more weeks, Rhône-Ardennes proclaimed that he now Loves each of them, and make a strange face that looked like a smile, yet slightly insidious. Jubal and Kael grew closer over this, as they heard eachother's life stories as well. Rhône-Ardennes revealed that he was recently proclaimed the leader of the Tsaesci in Tamriel, for his consummate is the original invaders. He named Jubal the first Knight-Brother of the new Dragonguard, Sir Kael the orders closest ally, and Râler-Brindle the Coiled Archivist of the order. They returned to the Imperial City, and through guile and cloak and dagger, made Rhône-Ardennes the new Grandmaster of the Pentius Oculatus. Even the Dragonborn admired the snakes.




11th of Midyear, 4E252.

The Second Dragonguard:


Jubal Sul,

Sir Kael (to a degree),



Moviris Sadras,

Seriatus Silver,

Galyron Ven-Sul.



The Second Dragonguard have been registered by   


Door to Bal
and how the Fourth Empire was born.

Door to Bal

<if you're already sitting at the table you should skim the bolded points, if you're reading this because you're competent and are here early for lore and a story then read it all>




The Profound Marked

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III


Jubal Sul

Sir Kael of Camlorn

Ninian Redoran









On the rise of the Fourth Empire, and it's adversaries.

12th   of Rains Hand, 4E252




(It should be noted that the scribe of this report, Yuken For is a very new agent, and his inexperience  should not be taken into account. At all.)




My record of events is based fundamentally on descriptions from my superior, Hawking, but the truth of the matter is the Vampyrum had been infesting the White-Gold Undercroft for hundreds of years, and only through a deal with Clavicus Vile had they been removed. In the end, the <u>Heroes</u> known as the Marked traded the soul of Nymaril the Ayleid for the termination of the deal with the Cyrodiil Vampyrum Order. I do not know what else was agreed upon, and I believe it is best that deals with Princes remain known to only those bound by them.


One of these deals was for a Scroll of Remembrace, a spell which had never been heard of before. Using it, the Marked raised Content Not Found: milo from the dead. Or perhaps an extended dream. It is unknown. Milo could finally veto the vote to name the Last Dragonborn and his conspirators traitors, and hence the Emperor took the fragments of the Empire two weeks later, and the Fourth Empire was born.


However, it was not without  adversaries. In the night, the Councilmen from Skingrad, Bravil, and Leyawiin absconded  to their homes in the Niben. Only the latter two succeeded, and each named themselves a separate Republic. The Blade Ninian Redoran and Calesse Thilinus fought in the Grand Arena had returned and taken up the mantle of Administrator of the Pentius. He accepted Del as the Intendant of  the Threat Assessment and Xenial department. The TAaX  department, which is also mine.

This Blade, Darr, was taken to see his old friend, the Emperor, before sending Intendant Jax to High Rock, and Intendant Delysaurus to Leyawiin, due to Tacius Jaro leaving the Imperial City first. I was to be their  personal bluejacket.


On the way to Leyawiin, there was a storm something fierce, and me and my men had to keep the ship near shore to weather it. The Marked heard voices in the woods and when they searched them, they found two b'vekking Tsaesci.  Rhône-Ardennes and Ràler-Brindle. The first was a masterful swordsman, the second some strange rank called a Hatcher, although Rhône-Ardennes was later referred to as one of these. The culture of the Akaviri are almost impossible to understand.

They referred to us all as "food-forms" and said they appreciated and acknowledged the taste of the Marked. It tasted of the future. Râler-Brindle was the first to warn us of the danger, which is to say, the three Battlecats of Eleswyr, who were getting very near. His scales flowed along his body like liquid, and he announced that he has devoured the Battlecat's communication.

Rhône-Ardennes' tail was swirled in a circle around his body strangely, before Sir Kael offered assistance. It seemed they were… friends. Of a sort. Maybe the Marked felt regret for giving them knowledge in the past which caused them to form some type of Army of Love. Rhône-Ardennes seemed familliar with Sir Kael, and showed an unusal interest with Jubal as well. It seemed he favored these two.

My recommendation is to ignore the Army of Love, as when I ran back to the ship to get my crew to safety, the Tsaesci weren't even moving, let alone fighting. The Marked did all the work.

Although Sir Kael later told me Râler-Brindle could control the thunderstorm to strike the Battlecats with lightning.


I waited in the ship outside Leyawiin, while the Marked entered the city through the sewers. It seems Del was beset upon by a Wererat, one experimented on by the Thalmor and given to Bravil to start plagues in their rival trade city. They returned with the knowledge that Tacius Jaro was innocent, he simply wished for a stable country, one where a mad Emperor would never bring the deaths of many simply by birth. Negotiations were started.

Jaro also informed us that Jarn Kerina of Bravil approached him, offering assistance from the Thalmor. We returned to Darr with this information, except Del and the Marked found a Thalmor agent in his place, who quickly Recalled away. They chased him to the docks only hours after we returned, and we chased them for a full week. To the Abecean Sea.


It was here that we finally caught up to them, dangerously deep in Dominion seas. Nexius Telvanni cast a gargantuan barrier that protected my ship from any sort of damage, as we fired the forward ballistae at the two ships. One Dominion and one of Bravil.

Weer and Sir Kael leaped into the sea, nearly without armor. It was some sort of adrenaline or passion that allowed it, but the Redguard Kael managed to swim faster than the Argonian, climb up the ship, and face the terrible twelve-foot Flesh Atronach. Weer and Kael stood as brothers facing this beast down, and the odds looked minimal, the controller of the beast below decks. They had no shields to speak of to block it's massive maces for arms, but before it could connect either with either solider, it crystallized and returned to Oblivion. Jubal of House Sul laughed from forty meters away, his skill in Conjuration triumphant.

Weer charged below decks to interrogate the summoner, and Kael lacerated the other mage, as he was defenseless.

He then faced the Thalmor Agent.


"Hopeless beast and whoreson," the Agent said, clutching his fur cloak, "the Thalmor know all about you. You are young and far, far too slow. We've already arrived at His doorstep". I saw Kael stagger as the water to the port of the Dominion ship lurched and sunk inward, their ship beginning to rotate completely into that side. 

It was the fabled Maelstrom of Bal, a completely impossible, deadly, and insidious entrance to Coldharbour. It is said the one in a thousand that survive the spinning waves are rewarded with an eternity of torture in Oblivion. Every sailor's nightmare. Nexius ordered us to turn the boat and abandon the two soliders, and I couldn't believe my ears, but hurriedly did as commanded. Nexius threw two Displacement Runes at the Dominion ship, with which Weer was transported to my ship. Sir Kael ignored the other Rune, and I feared he was lost, as the base of the ship sunk out of view.

The Agent drank a potion, and Kael stole one from his belt, and they used the stolen art of Plixto Salvia. The spell allowed them to walk upon any surface, as if gravity were oriented into that surface. They walked-if you can call it that-at an insane angle, and I thought I had broke under stress and terror. They were walking up the side of the mast, the ship fifty degrees towards horizontal and spinning rapidly as the ship funneled ever deeper.

The Agent got to the end of the mast, almost sixty meters off of the boat, turned to Sir Kael halfway down the mast, sideways, and spread his arms out to scream: "Welcome to Oblivion, Kael! The Dominator awaits us!" He laughed hopelessly and evilly, and looked into Kael's eyes, clutching the furs again, "This is your Administrator, he is dead. Like your family. Like your Empire. Like your Duke". 

Something broke inside Sir Kael, or perhaps he just knew, for once in his life, the only action that resounded in every fiber of his being, the only action that was the culmination of all his efforts. Kael's truest enemy was those that would hurt and take advantage of those that never had a chance, as he had to fight for his, in the streets of Camlorn. Sir Kael sprinted at the Agent, leaving the Rune, and escape, behind. He leaped through the air towards him as the Agent's eyes widened, the beginning of a Recall spell fizzling as Kael tore him from the mast and gravity shifted, and they fell into the depths of the Maelstrom.


In the Agent's ear, Kael of Camlorn, Knight of the Dragon whispered: "I'll see you in Oblivion, dickhead"


I watched him plummit towards near-eternal suffering, and I couldn't watch any longer. The Marked were gathered at the back of the ship, watching with horror.


And yet, there is a reason we know what was said. Weer searched for a weapon, before taking one of Jubal's many daggers, and slapped the frail Nexius Telvanni, almost having to scream at him above the pounding and rushing of the Maelstrom, "Put a Rune on this Divine-damned dagger!"

Nexius knew this was nearly impossible, but nonetheless he tried this unprecedented feat of magic, and succeeded. I swear I saw his hands glow and his eyes flash.

Weer leaped from the back of the ship with the dagger and with all his might threw the dagger twice as far than I'd ever seen a dagger thrown, and it spun through the air as Weer landed in the water and gripped our ship. The glowing dagger soared through the air impossibly, and as it fell downwards by gravity out of view, so did Sir Kael and the Agent.


Every man or mer was holding their breath, before Sir Kael and the Agent materialized and collapsed and were sprawled on the deck.

The Agent was dazed, and looked up at Kael and growled quietly "Some allies you have, man of Yokuda".

He sat back against the mast and sighed, "This is a, well, a first".



After capturing Jarn on his defenseless ship (Jubal summoned beasts to clear the elite guard), the traitors were all interrogated, and returned to the Elder Council for trial. With him silenced and Jaro amiable, the Fourth Empire will soon encompass all of Colovia, the Niben, and the Heartlands.

This concludes my report, although I do wish to say, Sir Kael is an inspiration, a man so passionate he was willing to live eternally in Oblivion to save us from the Thalmor.

Long live the Emperor!

-Inspector Yuken For



Vile, Clavicus Vile.
You can't out-deal the Dealer

Vile, Clavicus Vile.


STDAR 4 GATETEM Capital, 4E252
Daia Vanos, duly noted under The House,
Auroran Vexed and STDAR Oversoul Approved
Sapiotemportal Delivery: souljewel count: 0001-34-43-11-XXX



"A new animus has apparated. Knight of Mercy Daia Vanos.
But not fully.
She is torn asunder, for she is not of this kalpa.
Or any kalpa."

"Explain your division. Hunter claims it. Bandit claims it. It claims Mercy".
"Shit and Ashes, what are you? I-ah.. It must have been the other Daia. I'll make Unthrappa of of her if I ever can". Daia looked up towards the being that spoke to her, being dark and wispy, yet making her eyes burn like the sun would. She ventured a guess: "I'm dead, right? I'm supposed to slowly start forgetting Mundus now?"
"It is required. The illusion of Time was permitted in the Centerex, omitting the greater reflection".
"Thanks for that". The figure, which finally coalesced into a gray mixture, led her to a door that was actually a question, in a large open space. She tapped her foot almost nervously upon a crystalline floor. This reeked of the Outer Planes.
"You will be observed. This Shadow of Conflict must be resolved. The events in an order will only be your failure to grasp the complexities".
Daia, who didn't care what the gray figure had to say, was busy walking through the mountainous Jeralls which had appeared around her. She was reliving her last days.



After Daia had brokered an alliance with the Fighter's Guild, specifically the Cyrodilic faction, she marched to assist her allies, the Marked. Last they met, they had saved Rimmen together through luck, skill, and no small amount of thievery. Along with a full platoon of Knights of Stendarr, she was now trekking north, to Bruma.




Daia found herself admiring, again, the exquisite craftsmanship of the Tsaesci. The Marked had gifted her a Dai-Katana they came across. Perhaps she could repay the favor by helping them end the corruption of the Vampyrum. 
Eilwis cried out, suddenly, putting Daia on edge. "Daia! These blossoms would look great on your armor!" 
She turned, blade half bare, and simply looked into the rather short Nord man's eyes with a warning, one which said: Silence is in your best interest. She couldn't fault him, Eilwis and Kas had just lost their Stalwart Knight. He makes humor to cope.


As the sun set on her left cheek, she rode into Bruma, seeing common builders hard as work, their clanging hammers echoing in the quiet streets of the late evening, the nip in the air ignored as curious faces peek out from the warm fires of houses to see the Knights. 
Daia smiled curtly to greed Has-Many-Plans, wondering-


"Your thoughts are inconsequential to the task at hand, focus upon The Marked, we would know more of their actions".


-sitting down at the head of the table, with Has, the Marked, and their new allies after the scuffle with some more rogue Daedra. Content Not Found: varn had been brought, with five-hundred heavy legionaries, and sat at the other end of the table.
Weer spoke first. "Nexius' plan is Wamasu shit. I hope you realize that the Elder Council can levy troops from the millions inside the Imperial City. Come summer we'll have three full, maybe green, but full legions at our gate. Lack of gate. Ysmir took our gate". 
Varn shook his head, one arm resting over his Centurion helm, the other on his chin, "War isn't the answer Weer. The Vampyrum may have brokered a truce with the Dominion, a sort of not-aggression pact, but a Civil war will make the coming Second War a battle we've no hope of winning".
Weer smiled, which was a hideous sight, but simply continued with his plan. "I know. This is why we break the deal with Clavicus Vile. Without it, the Vampyrum will be hunted down instead of harbored like half the Council was".
Varn sighed, and when pressed, Weer had no further schemes on how to achieve this plan. Daia spoke up, much more aggressive and quick to action than the former Daia. "Then we'll pressure Vile. Jubal's Ashkin Galyron crafted this copper bracelet. With it, my Knights will be able to find the Vile shrine and destroy it. Vile will have much less influence in Mundus, perhaps he will get the message".

Daia truly wished for this because there were talks of a wedding. Formal events were for show and the Knights weren't well liked, as militant as they were.
It was because of the bracelet that she was the only Knight of Stendarr to return.

Upon leading her Knights through the veil surrounding the Vile Shrine, she stood mere feet from over a dozen nobles. Hesitating in a moment she still curses even after death, the Vampyrum in disguise fell upon the unaware Knights, terrible strength caving metal armor and shield with fist and bone.
Her Dai-Katana saw her through the day, yet only because she was the sole Knight that could percieve the vampires attacking. The veils of the Daedric shrines are formidable indeed.


One less shrine in Cyrodiil, and many friends shorter, she returned to Bruma. Hearing before seeing the Legion that was camped outside the walls, building siege tools day and night.
Nexius used a spell to transport her atop the wall, and quickly told her what they had discovered. "We have divined a.. way. A way to locate the original Vampyrum and track their movements perfectly". He seemed reproachful, his voice almost shaking.
"Tell me, Nex. Now please, I don't believe the Legion outside is waiting".
"It requires, ah, a death. Your death, Daia".



"We see. It's AE is truthfully aligned with Mercy. That is all. You may proceed to Magnanimity".
"I am not done watching. I wish to relive.. the last moments". The being turned towards her, and she found herself drawing her Dai-Katana, although she didn't know she still possessed it. "I said I'm not finished with Mundus".
"Unwise. Staying attached is the way of Boet-hi-Ah. Yet it refuses to let fade".
The being expands, until it no longer exists, allowing Daia to relive more.


My Duke, Scale Forsythe,

I report to you, late, and I accept the retributive justice that allows. I did not trust a courier, nor any man in this country, for our greatest fears were truth. Gendry Forio is dead, blackmailed and murdered. We are nearly upon the culprits, and I desired to send this to you, in the case that I fail and cannot exterminate the rot in our Empire, although my home is Camlorn.

Our first mistake was underestimating them. As was our second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth. It is the sixth that may cause the fall of Bruma to Loyalists. I fear our new Emperor may be put on a pike if that transpires, although I care more for the City of Lions. After a formal wedding, binding [[:ciri  | Seriatus Silver]] and Ysmir, we were woken in the night by Jubal, he had a terrible dream that he interpreted as brothers fighting one-another. He was far too right.

Upon the wall I beheld, eight-and-one cavalry, galloping faster than any horses that weren't Cyrodilic could. We almost routed, the dozen of us there were. Nexius gave Weer a ring and I turned and ran to find Varn Aquius. No man could have sprinted faster or longer than I that night. Together we put out the call for the remnants of the Third Legion, and he confirmed my fear; the entire Twelfth Legion had sailed from Anvil to Bruma faster than we could comprehend.

When we looked back, Weer the Argonian wasn't so much fighting, as slaying the horsemen. The Ring, whose name I shall not entrust to letter, allowed him to block every blow, land every strike, hit every man or mer. Together with Varn and I, we held the gate until the Third Legion could fortify the wall. A siege was not what the Twelfth wanted, for ideally they could rush in and kill the Emperor and his family, stopping the rebellion utterly without further death. A siege is what we gave them.

Weer was almost mortally wounded, saved from bleeding out by Nexius, while we talked to a stange salesman, called Gin. Various deals were made, Nexius traded a fond memory for a book of Alchemy. I believe he called out the name Yurg, before he was dumbfounded, almost afraid, for he did not know what he had forgotten… and then Gin offered a mystical map to the Vampyrum, in exchange for Daia's life, or rather, her death.

I respected Daia, so I am compelled to write how she died, if you would sympathetically light a candle for her in the Chapel of the Lion, I would be forever in your debt.

She made sure we knew that Gin was some sort of agent of Clavicus Vile, the Daedric Prince of deals and wish fulfillment, before accepting her death, with the conditions that she speak to Moviris before    she dies, and that the duel we had been arguing over for many months be had. 

Wadarsho, who was keenly listening, invisible, explained to us that perhaps Daia wished to speak to her father before she died. The other Daia's father, at least. He spoke to Moviris,  before bringing    him to Bruma with a few spells. Moviris was not kind, although I do not understand why. I was not aware that he was Daia's father. He insulted her once or twice, and she plainly nodded, and told him she understood. For Daia had somehow changed identities, or places, or something with another Daia. This was not the Daia who Moviris had known. Moviris Recalled himself away, and Daia looked at the stars for but a moment, before smiling softly and turning to me. We drew our weapons, Nexius cleared the paths before the Chapel to Saint Martin, and we fought.

Except we were both too smart. She knew that if she attacked, she could not defend from both my blades at once. I knew if I attacked, I would be lunging within range of her Dai-Katana. We stood in stalemate, throwing playful insults, as warriors do in both our lands. She realized this defeated the risky goal of the duel, and attacked. Once, twice, thrice I parried her blows. She looked at home in combat, and I admired that. She knew her place was to be where she was. These thoughts are what caused me to be impaled through the left lung by her blade. Never knew myself to be distracted so by pretty women. She embraced me and I her, and I shifted my blade to her back. She nodded, and I paused.. to kiss her. She smirked as I did, whispering "Now that wasn't fair", and twisting her blade in my chest, although I know not if it was on purpose. I pierced her back with my blade, and she died just so in my arms.

I cannot help but realize the foul similarities between the deaths of Daia and Corellius. Both Knights of Mercy died to Daedra, because of the betrayal of trusted allies. Vel killed Corellius and the Legion, we killed Daia. Was it out of necessity or a false sense of urgency?


With the map, and an Ayleid named Nymaril, we go south to White-Gold. The Vampyrum hide underneath the Tower. Deeper than the Second Empire and the Cyrodiils ever went


——Your loyal servant, Knight Kael of the Dragon-and-Lion.



Daia threw the perception of the message on the soft, yet crystalline ground, where it burst into white dust. She would soon return to these Looking Glasses she currently resided in, however first she faced towards the door that was actually a question, and declared: "No. I will not Fade".
The door became a path, and Daia ventured along it, to join the other worshippers in Stendarr's Magnanimity.






Nexius Telvanni

Del the character.

Sir Kael

Jubal the character.

Jack Augustus

Eilwis of Daggerfall.





<more happened but that'll be talked about Sunday>

and how the Dragon became a slave.





Nexius Telvanni

Ninian Redoran

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III

Sir Kael

Jubal Sul

Jack Augustus




The Eight-plus-One




A middle-aged man sat alone in the Great Chapel of Saint Martin, praying to the first mosaic, to his favored Divine, Akatosh.


"Akatosh writes: "Serve and obey your Emperor. Study the Covenants. Worship the Nine, do your duty, and heed the commands of the saints and priests"… I endeavor towards this. I believe I do. Yet your Divine-sister Mara says: "live soberly and peacefully. Honor your parents, and preserve the peace and security of home and family". How can I serve the Nin-Eight.. if their teachings conflict?"

The man bowed his head before turning anxiously upon hearing steps behind him, yet relaxed with the remembrance of his prayer-charm. None could hear his words save himself.

"I used Arctus' staff upon your Last Dragonborn… I betrayed my Emperor. I froze his body and we.. packed him inside a chest of Oblivion!"


The man hangs his head, before rising and kneeling beneath the mosaic of Julianos.

"I need your Wisdom and Logic, for your servant has only a mortal's mind. Seriatus Silver was perfect for the Bruma Throne, and Bruma prospered, yet she ascended to Countess through trickery and murder. I believed I could always ascertain a just path through study and knowledge, before I came to forests with no paths at all, only avenues of least destruction".


He kneeled beneath the mosaic of Dibella, sighing and shaking his head. 

"My lack of wit is most plentiful, Lady, for I know how to learn, how to riddle, how to understand mysteries. All except one. Perhaps this is why I rarely speak to you, Queen of Love. Ninian and Maera. There are no words for either of their intricacies, and your servant knows only words. Perhaps I grieve both through indecision and ignorance.. yet I could not live with leaving one alone in a world such as our Arena".


He drew his beautiful Dwemeri sword, focused upon it's essence before going beneath Stendarr's mosaic.

"The morn following a few lacking confessions by Moviris, one where he believed his age to be beyond three-hundred, the shambles of my once-great Elder Council called for a vote of no-confidence. They believed Milo Tain, the people's Tribune, would immediately Veto the vote to outlaw the Last Dragonborn and we Marked… yet when the vote was blackmailed towards that outcome, Milo could not Veto. A fight began, starting with the Bruma representative and continuing with shadowy creatures that aimed to kill Milo to begin a war.. we brought him and Kirrido Pillida to safety, and learned that the session was not completely over until officially ended. Upon rushing Milo towards White-Gold the next morn, a mob began to form. They had voted Milo their leader and the man who knew their desires greater than they.. yet he nearly died and became comatose believing they had hated him. We know it to be the Thalmor, wanting this Cyrodilic Civil War… yet at the cost of thirty-two deaths of commonfolk under Frenzy. I used the Ring of Nir in a way only thought of during a time of crises. One facet would hasten the construction of a thousand men for days… I took the natural restorative processes to be these men and used it to close Milo's pierced lung, even though Jubal and the last Thalmor agent both lied atop him, but only his life was saved, not his consciousness".


He finally sat beneath Kynareth, the Divine of the wind and nature.

"The Thalmor are a sinister enemy. We had no means to fight a war, and no more opportunities to avoid one. Save one. One final risk to take to save Man from Mer. My new.. friend Jubal returned The Last Emperor to Nirn, and when we brought him from the cage of forge-iron and the shackles of another battlemage's betrayal into the Temple of the One… I saw my moments with Ninian and Maera flash before me. This dragon before us had your power, he could make rise the very stone beneath us to annihilate us. Yet he only calmly asked if our foolishness extended to fighting the double incarnate.. Julianos knows what that means."


He came to rest beneath Arkay, the wheel of life and death.

"This Dragonborn can not die, and is an affront to your gifts. Your servant apologizes for profaning him. Jubal used the Ring of Nir, and shouted upon the Last Emperor, taking our Emperor's will for his own… and so we betrayed our god-given lord. Yet he was not fully dominated by the Ring. His soul was not fully Dragon, not fully Man. This.. other piece is what I fear, and this other piece is what turned and Shouted under it's own free will".


He came to Zenithar, and shook his head softly.

"I work hard, yet not honorably. Is this why all of Mundus conspires against me? Is this why I am tasked with the Empire though Auri-El, and the Mark through b'vek knows what??" He sighs and turns away, the conflict clear on his face, "I work hard, so you write shall bring reward. We shall see if this applies to our failed Empire… When the Dragonborn Shouted towards the Elder Council I cried out in terror, and drew my sword as quickly as I could manage. Yet the Dragonborn only lit the Fires. Royal flames alit, the Dragonfires of Akatosh were alive once more. The Fourth Empire was irrevocably a dream to be harbored, instead of a passing dalliance.. yet the Elder Council would sooner cast us from the city, and brand us traitors, than share this vision".


Finally the man came beneath Mother Mara, closing his eyes tight and absent-mindedly feeling his ears, a nervous tick developed before the Break.

"I come to you, Mother, for selfish reasons. I wish for the future to look upon us with love and not contempt. With approval and not disregard. For we may have failed, as the Elite Wardens came and drove us from the city like dogs. Should Ysmir never sit upon the Ruby Throne… The Dominion may again rule Tamri-El".


He sat for two more chimes of the Time-Teller. Before rising and considering throwing down his Elder Scroll, his beautiful staff, and his Ring, to simply find his Dunmeri love and run to Blacklight where the troubles of the Imperial Republic couldn't affect them in this lifetime. Yet he gripped the wisdom of his sword and emotions flooded away, pure Wisdom and recollection of the Dwemer replacing it. 

The Dragon, The Thief, The Silver-Tongued Elf
and how the Five Hundred took Bruma.

The Dragon, The Thief, The Silver-Tongued Elf


Map as of 4E252, Sun's Dawn 13th, Morndas



Jubal Sul

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III


Sir Kael

Ninian Redoran




First prayer, Morning Star 26th, Dawn

Oh Azura, how you have sent me to some…interesting, but dangerous people. You send me off to find my place and be your champion, I came across this Wadarsho. I embraced his rough hand and our forms and perceptions contorted and we sent to White-Gold. We traveled by Moon and Star, through your great twilight, as he said it was your will which brought me here. So I did my best to understand, It seemed that I was not the only newcomer, as a group of chaotic people accused the Elder Council of being vampires. I studied them, finding the Elder Scroll and a man who seemed to know I was there, the man named Moviris Sadras (although I don't suppose it helped I grunted in his face when I saw the Scroll.) 
There was a lot of debate, and long periods of tense silence, before I found out I was meant to help these people. I outed the vampires from the council with your truthful light, and they were swiftly dealt with. From seeing how they exploded upon death I only hope it was painful. I spoke to Moviris and he seemed to know much about me, more than I thought any knew, except kin. He called me Azura's Champion, sent with the Star to aid the Marked.
But why? What will befall them? Why is the Star needed? Why me, an adopted Ashlander?



Second Prayer, Morning Star 16th, Dusk

We spent a week in town before setting off to find The Last Dragonborn, we set off into the Jerall Mountains. First thing we came across was a Nord almost seven feet tall and a Redguard noble fighting. I brought a cage from The Deadlands upon the Nord and we settled the dispute. We moved on and found a bloody, terrible skirmish between two Nord factions, both calling themselves the Five Hundred. It was peculiar, the attacking side had twenty-one soldiers outfitted in rusty armor and weapons that were ill-fitting, while the defenders had absolutely pristine Steel plate, perfectly fitted. We joined the fight and helped kill the attackers, for they attacked us. After the battle ended we were brought to Ysmir, the Dragonborn. He had to whisper, straining his voice to be just quiet as a booming thunderstorm that shook the mountains for miles. He informed us rather forcefully that our purpose in his camp was to join him and serve his whim. I almost laughed, and Sir Kael spoke up in denial.
And then he Shouted. Lo Tinvaak Bahlok. Sir Kael went to his knees and reaffirmed that we were all in fact here to join the Five Hundred. He then said words whose fury burned like the fires of Red Mountain; "You caused my death. The death of the Sultan. The fall of Hammerfell and Skyrim, and the loss of Dawnbreaker. You're lucky, Ninian, assassin of Kings. I'll only kill you". He gripped her shoulder in one massive fist and swung his mighty Ebony axe, cutting her body open from left hip through the heart to the neck, and she was dead in seconds. Nexius ran to her before being thrown away by Ysmir. This man was deadly, viscous, and soon shown to be mad.
He insulted the Third Empire, calling them Elven slaves as all Nords seem to, except he said some things which disgust me still. He betrays each group of Five Hundred, bringing another, then another, and once he trains the strongest possible he will take Bruma, and begin again until he has the strongest force, then abandon it. Something he calls the Way demands it.. although he said it wasn't the only Way. He also said Alduin would return. Grim tidings.
Weer pledged himself to the Dragonborns lineage, and made a humble request that mercy be given to his friend Ninian. Ysmir shouted again, full of anger, hate, and pain unimaginable. Vokri Kopraan Laas. It filled me with a deep fear, but a decent respect. Ninian's wounds closed and although she had been absolutely dead beyond all magics for thirty minutes, she was restored to life. He spoke as if words could kill, "There is your Seditioner. Your Thief".
Over the next week, Nexius quickly became a battlemage for the Dragonborn, and I a second. I was given the Ethos Blade by what I assume was Wadarsho.. and apparently these Marked were trying to get Ciri pregnant, I assisted in the best way I could… and I pray that was your will.




Third Prayer, Morning Star 22nd, Dusk

Azura I need your strength, I convinced the Dragonborn to not slaughter an entire town, but the margin for error was thinner than an Alit's hair. He used some illusion sort of shout (is that possible?) to appear as the Countess of Bruma as he Shouted down the front gate, strode into the Keep, reverted forms and challenged her to a duel. He Shouted to force her to eagerly accept to the terms. He said he wouldn't kill her, he promised me, but he turned on his word and put his Ebony boot through her chest in a single kick. He was put in charge through some trickery, and he will rule this town for now. After helping Nexius with Identifying his staff, we have formulated a plan and I am not confident it will work, but with your help it can. I hold myself to you. I will pray to you again at dawn. Hopefully with positive news. 







Her organs spilled into her arms, her blood lost so quick, life was gone. She felt it escaping her faster than she could will it to stay… and so Ninian Redoran died.

Her body did not exist, and she was blind for a time, yet she knew she would soon be surrounded by beauty, Moonshadow is the most beautiful thing potentially possible. But when her eyes that aren't physical opened, she was greeted by the smiling face of Hunger. It swung the shards of the amulet in her face before cackling like a hyena and scuttling away. She was on The Snake Mount, as her soul had always been. She had always been here. A woman stared at her, a very, very old woman. After a few seconds, it came to her that it was Calesse Thilinus, although she had aged at least forty years since she saw her. Saw her die on Nirn.

"Oh Ninian.. It has been so very long".

Ninian was gasping and shaking, having just passed on. Eventually she managed to make a feeble apology for her lack of use in her days alive, and wishes for Cal to forgive her, besides how little they actually ever interacted. She mumbled, numbly; "I can't accept that my life was for nothing, that I did nothing".

Cal rebuked this, "We both died here, yet you did more in life than I ever did. I never found Jondis. You saved so many of your people from poverty. You became noble, I became a traitor".


Over the next three months the two unbreakable women fought. eachother, Daedra, other men and mer. Anything that could be thrown in the Attribution Arena. Time and time again the two died, sometimes to the blade of the other. They grew a sort of bond, out of grim acceptance of the fate that they held before them. It was said a sort of peace awaited those that absolutely resigned in every aspect, but a nagging fear of said end stirred them forward. Calesse was not haunted and tortured with memories and images as Ninian was. The Dunmer was shown images of how her allies didn't care for her death, and Nexius rejoiced at it, and went on an even better date with Maera the first chance he could get. Boethiah had a sort of respect for Cal, if you could call it that. She won the arena through intelligence instead of strength. She only lost her soul due to a sort of heroism.


On the eve fourth month, Calesse felt a disturbance, a sort of warmth and sanity that she had not felt in quite a long time. Mundus. She had no power of Conjuration on Boethiah's plane, unless Boethiah willed it to be so. Ninian was confused, and absolutely disoriented as the realities converged upon her. The shackles drained her magicka, yet she felt her plane once again. Yet it was not reaching out to her, it was to Ninian.

"Ah Ninian," Calesse whispered, softly, "I knew you wouldn't be here for long, somehow.. But now I know why. Go on, girl, live your life, and tell them.. Tell them each of their lives was worth the years here, and worth all the rest."

Cal embraced her newfound sister, before Ninian started to vibrate, perception of her becoming textured and slowly dark before snapping away completely in an instant.. and again, Calesse was alone on the realm of Boethiah.


Ninian awoke and saw her allies crowded around her killer, all allying with him and some swearing oaths to him… and so Ninian Redoran died.

And the world waits..
We're shaking the dragon just so, and so can you!

And the world waits..



The Profound Marked

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III



The Second the World Waited



Written by "Scribe" Nu-Hatta, presented to the Elder Council by Vix Carengar, before modified and put into Empire-wide news circa Sun's Dawn, 4E252.







On The Marked

Morning Star, 4E 2521


(It should be noted that this is the opinion and perspective of the presenter, the Argonian Representative Canon Carengar. They in no way reflect the opinion of the Elder Council, or the Empire)


This is the fable of the marked ones.

From mud to ash, undead traps to burning sand, they never slowed.

On Oblivion, much they lost. In Cyrodiil, much more.

It is said they were to destroy the world. 

They did.

And they saved us all.


Now, The Marked began in vastly different occupations, before gathering deep in the Darkwood of north Black Marsh, it seems they lost former memories here. I, a romantic, like to think they bonded over this, as moth priests and assassins and freedom fighters never could. Running north, from Na'Rek, that necromancer business last year, they ended up in Morrowind.

I disagree with many of you on this. The nation of Morrowind was a wonderful and ubiquitous partnership, for many reasons more than trade, but it is not my place to say. The Marked were influenced by beatings of an old man, as i heard. The esteemed council should note, single displays such as this can do wonders to influence people. They are not affected by large scale politics, rather, what they see. They had some business here, with- (Vix looked rather concerned at Moviris Sadras, before seeming to change his mind) Casimir Soro, or at least feigned to. They used this and acquired an invitation, going to a meal with you… Content Not Found: lorelai. Now, you can tell this story more than I, for I was cowering before being handed a Scroll of Recall by The Marked's leader. Yes. He saved my life.

(Vix steps to the side here, making sure not to ever look directly at the Lady Barenziah. We must learn more of what happened truly at this dinner. Her voice is rather distracting. I swear she could take a Nord's steak at dinner by whispering about Guar dung very detailed)

The Marked. They are not evil, no, but they are a force of chaos, and need to be kept from Cyrodiil. (This starts an uproar, but it is quickly silenced by the High Councilor) This being said… these chosen ones have in fact been chosen by some variation of Akatosh. At dinner in my home, they fought their way through my guards, overturning a very fine meal, taking me up the stairs and bursting through dozens of trained legion soldiers, onto the back of an accursed Strider of the old men of Vvardenfel. 

None else recall this part, but it should be told. It happened to be the day of the summoning day for Boethiah, a day we Dunmer know well. A trained cult of skirmishers and violence surrounded the resistance cell as they decided how to best interrogate me with knives, and in chanting, they send the entire area to Attribution's Share itself. The thing was chaotic as Sheogorath's drunken parties. Multiple levels of platforms up to more Daedra, and we dueling one at a time in the middle. It seemed most of the groups died a nonfatal death, only their souls being affected. I know this as my left leg was sheared off by a Dremora. (The entire council was taken aback here as she lifted her quilted dress to show what looked almost as a dehydrated and black prune of a leg, before pouring an oil on it that seemed to make it disappear, illusion) Yes, I lost something there. 

What is important here, is that The Marked faced horrendous terrors, even a beast known as Hunger, and killed it. Cal of the Altmeri commanders of The Great War even died there, killing a beast, and sending us all home. The Marked might have been good people before this, but losing their souls, I believe turned them int- (That new Sadras East-Empire-Company man gave her a look and she quickly nodded and sat down. Vix took the stage again.

Uhm. Ah yes, their resolve was tested, and they came away stronger. This is common for a first trip into Morrowind. The Marked went from there, with the blessing of Azura, and a free Morrowind, through Cheydinhal, where we have confirmed reports of them saving at least half the populace, to the Imperial City. After meeting Vel, and competing in the Arena, they saved Nexius from wrongful imprisonment, as well as his family.

This is the.. touchy subject… and might well be the first report you hear on the subject of the Elder Council infiltrated. The new policy of several detection spells cast upon each member before entering this room should put us all at ease, Clavicus Vile's minions at least cannot reach us here. Either way, the guard and all of us were led to believe the Marked were malicious, and Motierre being killed by an agent of the Vampyrum was framed on them. Being chased out of town, they tracked Vel accross the continent, through Bravil, Rimmen, into the No-Quin-Al. Something happened there, and they went far, far away. They went through some sort of portal set up by Loreaine.

Now to the subject matter at hand. I believe you, Nu-Hatta, will appreciate the direction of this presentation. (Interesting.) I have spoken with Nexius himself, actually hugged him, and traded stories. I do believe he is a humble man, and will not exaggerate details. To be safe I cross referenced with Sir Kael, a trusted knight of the Empire.

They were flung through Mundus, their bones feeling shattered, bodies compressed to an ant, and just when they felt the end neigh, it didn't come. After a minute, they realized the portal was cut off early, they ended up misplaced. In a locked off area of The Battlespire, devoted to Papre's grave, the dragon mount of old Starlover, the records of such a scholar are prized nowadays, as they detail a time before the decline of the Empire. (Can't believe he admitted such a thing, no one speaks of the Empire declining. He is Argonian.)

It seems they allied with a Daedra named Vaqua-or at least thats all they could pronounce-and they used this Dremora General to cut through many a Thalmor with ease. This may have been the catalyst of the Thalmor using Daedra in the Second Invasion of Hammerfell. They are a respectful power, albeit a catastrophically dangerous one.  

Nexius went on for quite a while about a Mirror Logician he met-similar to a Mananaut he met later-and discussed Elder scrolls with him. I didn't believe this was relevant, until this Logician mentioned a war in Alinor, one which never ended. (Shit.) Nu-Hatta, I believe this worries you as well, but I do not truly see a solution, or fully understand the problem. If it is contained, I say; 'do not poke the Wamasu with a rod'. 

In the central dais of the Battlespire, prayed Lorraine. To Auri-El, I'd imagine. A rather unimportant bard had accompanied the Marked up until this point, actually since Morrowind. As it turns out, this bard's true name was Wulf. And as he saw Lorraine, he abandoned the Marked and sprinted for her, growing a foot and transforming into a large man, who was recognizable to all as Talos. The god. (The council sounded confused, as did I, and many, many people looked confused. No one worships Talos, just as no one worships the beggar on the street. What is Vix saying?) Talos and Lorraine did a sort of battle. Loreaine had some sort of dragon aspect that was her, as Talos always did. It scares me to think of Loreaine as a true divine, as well as possessing the same capabilities of Talos and Reman Cyrodiil, both described as draconic when they fought.

But the Thalmor are an insidious enemy, and they are always two hands ahead. They had an alliance with the Vampyrum you see, (more gasps, elder council members corrupt, AND allying with Thalmor? If you want to be kicked out, Vix, keep going…) to get something from the tomb of The Apprentice. The same Greatsword that hero used against Dagon on this same Battlespire, in that same room. It hurls almost every type of creature through planar barriers and all of space, to nothing less than the endless and infinite Void. The Sword of the Moon Reiver. A higher ranking Vampire had this sword, Vel's wife, actually, and somehow dived to Talos' avatar and impaled his thigh with it, and in a sort of horrendous scraping but also slurping sound, as described, the avatar and all its power and all its forms fighting all of Loreaine's were sucked into The Void. Vel threw her to the ground and began trying to hold her down, released from her domination.

Loreaine stood, and of all things, of all the vast power godhood allowed her, of all the spells to crush her enemies of ability to will any of the Marked from this plane…


Only a handful will believe me, here.


She began to dance. The Blood of Talos over her. If you remember, White-Gold used to have the same power as the tower the Battlespire was positioned above, after having moved from a space far above Nirn. Crystal-Like-Law was never destroyed, you see, only one of its nine components, and being rebuilt easily, the other eight acted as enhancers as the eight did for White-Gold. Dancing on this tower created Akatosh, Loreaine on that tower destroyed all worship of Talos. A partial way to show this is how the Skyrim's independence was written as based on the worship of their god, but the Nord's have no god that the Empire does not allow. 

You all do not know of Talos worship, because how it never happened, because it was destroyed retroactively. Loreaine next wished something worse, to replace Akatosh with Auri-El. I have no opinion on this matter, but it could cause a Dragon Break that would last thousands of years. Del was paralyzed. Nexius prayed to Akatosh, and attempted to understand Akatosh's current pain as the Dragon began to break, from all worship of Talos never having been. 

Now, something I skipped over, thats rather important, but sensitive, The Dragonborn you all should remember, but don't, was not only killed, but soul trapped in an amulet, one of Boethiah. The Seditioner's Amulet. It, in all truth, acted as a shoddier and incomplete version of the Amulet of Kings did in the First Era. Stolen from Del by an Altmer General that has since become High Commander of the Altmer (another damn title) and thrown to Loreaine, she had the connection to Akatosh and Auri-El through the amulet and her own blood. Seconds of the dance before the dragon was "double-broken."

In a moment of heroics, as Nexius pleaded for a way to assist Akatosh with his broken mind, Del saw the futility of the situation and tore himself from the paralysis. Throwing a dagger to destroy the amulet, freeing the Dragonborn, Loreaine was shut off from the power, allowing Weer to finally grip the Sword of the Moon Reiver, an act of revenge against all the genocide of his people, of his family, and his friends in the Marked, and cleaved Loreaine in twain, sending her to The Void.

Now, the Dragon Broke. This is fact, although not all know it. The reason for this is that The Marked had a destiny. Ever since the mysterious Dwemer mark appeared, they were chosen. Chosen because it changed its subjects once or twice. They spoke to a Mananaut (something not done in thousands of years) and it even helped, and flew them in a Mothship to where they needed to go. You see, as all time was happening at once and all possible times were existent, The Mark isolated them to one. This Break would not be allowed. As they touched anyone, out of what they described as "people splitting in two repeatedly until they were but shades of full realities and timelines," and effectively choosing one reality as the correct one. 


As towers fall; Stones shattered

As Aka-Tusk lies dormant; Lork-El arises

As Eras cascade; the dragon falters…

The Mark of the Profound shall show the way.

And so they did.


Towers fell, White-Gold, Crystal-Like-Law, even Solitude was sacked (Ha Vix.), and after that, half of Morrowind was destroyed. Xarxes' backside, even the Telvanni towers were and are filled with snake-men! Stones too! Both of the elements of Aka have been dormant for an Era, and Akatosh is believed to have been weakened, even made silent since the Crisis. Eras cascading and the dragon faltering clearly lead to the Dragon Break, but perhaps they lead to a certain Letter I know you have all discussed in detail. Nonetheless, the Marked were fated to lead the way. In old Elnophex, way was synonymous with when. They will show the correct when, the true timeline. The one we are.

Over an entire year of un-time, they traveled every single city and town of all of Tamriel, on foot or by ship or by Mothship, and touched each and every living individual, before the Jills froze them in time, piecing the puzzle together. They fixed time, and then went to Oblivion and farther and bloody met with Auri-El and tried to understand what was happening in Aetherius. They destroyed the world as the prophecy said, did they not? For every decision, two worlds were made, and they destroyed the other, for ours. Or perhaps we were all recombined, or we were chosen as the prime. This is for Mananauts to discuss, but the facts laid bare, The Marked are Heroes.


And when time wasn't, they showed the way.






4E 251, Evening Star 25th, 9:03PM. Elder Council Chambers, Imperial City.


The Long year of the Second.


The Queen Lorelai was asleep, in another Elder Council meeting. Moviris wondered if she was only fit for living as a ruler, not ruling as a living. Councilor Jaro was defending his decision to recall every Imperial Legion home after this winter, as they'd been away a while, and the growing aggression of the Dominion required it. 

After a strange flash of light, and a few seconds more of conversation, he drifted off. Moviris' hand was immediately on his left-hand hidden weapon, as although Jaro's speech was mind-numbingly dreary, he was aware enough to notice a Moth priest appear to his right, and an Argonian Knight appear to his left.

Moviris read a note somehow tied to his absolutely invisible sword, from Nexius himself, placed between the seconds. "Ah Telvanni. This is an unexpected pleasure… Nice of you to-ahem-appear."

Twenty-four gladii were drawn, twenty-four Golden Guard closed in. The council collectively were near panicked at the blood soaked and dirt caked sights before them, each of them possessing the terrible, prophetical Mark. Moviris looked Nexius in his golden-flecked eyes, lit by the sun setting over the Dragon Teeth. "Perhaps we should take this outside," then, in a whisper; "We know the situation here…"

Nexius of Cheydinhal and the house Telvanni had but two things to say, to him and the entire Elder Council. "Half of you are of the Vampyrum order and aren't leaving as anything but corpses. Also, we need Ciri to fuck the resurrected Dragonborn and make a baby. Auri-El said so."


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