The Profound Mark, the Elder Scrolls Story

The Dinner Party
Or rather, "Shit goes sideways."

The Dinner Party


Moviris' Gift List



The group known as the Marked.

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurius Essendale Hawking III



Ninian Redoran



<Message left upon a beautiful, soft-brown leafed Darosa tree, with curving branches of darker brown, healthy leaves.>

31st of Frostfall, 4E 250


Now Firian,

I didn't know Ninian would be under the table. That was unexpected. Much of it was, pulled the Ethos Blade after all. I digress; the plan.

After  Jancella had me buy a Guar for her, she rode off to the Telvanni, had forgotten she was trained with them. I asked those Marked boys what their plan was, and after much deliberation, they came up with nothing. So I went to a party at the Olde Moor Estate. Obviously this was to speak to Lorelei before the Marked got to her, probably frightening her. She was always rather timid back in north High Rock, in our trading days, as you'd remember.

Digression again! First Centurion Varn Aquius escorted them in, late, but the rest of us happened to fail to notice. I'm a hit at parties, kept everyone's attention and their smiles bright. They seemed preoccupied and didn't speak much, but Lorelei and I kept the table talking.

Other nobles there:
Vix Carengar – Argonian with some rather ill-fitting clothes, decorative Malachite gloves and boots, and a badge for the status of Warden. Black Marsh Emissary. If he was a spy, he was a bad one. He was adorable though, you'd have laughed. Ah that laugh.
Casimir Soro – Total manipulator, he was boisterous and brutish. Commanded the East Empire Company in Morrowind. He was rather good at commercial pursuits, but not fit to lead the trade.
Sulla Darn – Spy, total spy. Pegged him the second I greeted him. The aware eyes and the laugh slightly too loud. He was a kid too, shame.
Daia Vanos - Ah. Daia. Thank Azura's ass she doesnt recognize me. That spear would've been in my face instead. She's changed, l'veh. 

We talked of Ninian quite a bit. (rather gauche that she was under the table..)
Del brought up the (remains of, in my opinion) Third Empire, before the meal was cleared away, a gold bowl and an Ancestor Pyramid brought in, I didn't eat of course, just appeared to. Learnt that in High Rock with both of you, and that fetcher of a king.  I'll just quote her on this, she said it sufficiently ominously. 

"Now, Ninian, I'm sure you'll appreciate this… as a native I mean. (Referring to Ninian being with the Morag Tong, and loving poison) You see, I communed with my grandfather, Helseth here. He showed me how to make a poison just right for my purposes, rather tasteful. and its antidote. No spell can stop it, only the antidote in that bowl of Sujamma. Quite the death, from what I'm told. Eager to see it."
Changed. Like I said..

Vix softly interjected with his soft, yet gravelly voice "Have you poisoned someone at this table, sera?"

"Very good, Vix! Though it would be easier to tell you who I have not poisoned. I have not poisoned any who are truly loyal to me, not coming here under false names, plotting a religious uprising, or selling secrets. I have not poisoned anyone who is not spying for the house of Telvanni, the house of Redoran, the house of Indoril, the house of Dres."
Everyone was stunned, not a single word between them all. Strange of them, actually. Did they know as well?
She poisoned the cups and cutlery, she claimed, not the food. Even I was poisoned. Most were frozen in fear, Vix was just shaking. Guards were now around the perimeter of the wall. Even Nexius, the only one who could be considered loyal, was scared. Could he trust Lorelei to not make a mistake, rather, to care if she did?
"The poison acts quickly" she spoke melodically as she checked a Telvanni Time-Teller (I do love those things, would collect them) "One minute now, these are the last words you'll hear, if disloyal to me: Take the antidote and live."

Apparently they're all completely fine with dying after gorging themselves, the distant kids. With seconds to spare, Sulla Darn, the Cheydinhal spy, leapt up and drank with his hands, panting and screaming 'she-witch' at Lorelei. She won, the poison hidden instead in the bowl which served as judge, jury, and a terribly grotesque executioner, was somewhat of a masterpiece. If you like that sort of thing. I believe its messy and needlessly destructive. 

Then that inexplicable mark. Of the two guards left in the room, one seemed to be suspicious and listening to rumors. Upon seeing the Mark of the Profound on Nexius, he charged! He was just a boy, not even in the Legion, I believe. Unless they let in boys now. Cue the disaster worse than Esbern at Falinesti. And Esbern burned down the forest. (This could have also been just an excuse to attack, planned by Lorelei?? Their weapons were, in fact, already brandished. Weer was making thinly-veiled threats.

Shortly, we had a tent or two of professional Imperial Legionaires ready to charge in the Dining Hub, a Breton Assassin named Ferrus Brutush, and a Knight of Stendarr or two messing things up. The queen was out due to Del's scroll spell, but we could not be between a worse Rock and Wereboar. The battlemage was shredding those who went outside, and I even was surrounded by three of them.

Cal, Del, Weer, Daia, injured direly. Cal and Del were barely standing, one had their stomach split open. Glad Nex' has some Resto', or those guts would've been the new dinner. Maybe for you. Teasing.

The Assassin died and Weer, seconds from death, managed to step on a Distortion Rune of mine. (Remember Wadarsha? Those old days.) Meaning I had to reveal my aptitude for spells to them, first misstep. My letter to a Shellfolk who Cal loved hopefully built some trust, and finally Ninian's gift came and saved us… Her Silt Strider, Genesis. 


They always freaked you out, Firi, but b'vek theyre unparelleled as mounts. 


Genesis is ebony-plated.




1st/2nd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 250


After 'Terrible Mess, the first,' came something worse. Much worse.


If you've forgotten the Seditioner's Amulet, the Dragonborn's soul is inside it.

And it's Boethiah's artifact.

A terrible, terrible hideout picked by Del, the s'wit, allowed the worshippers to get such a drop on us that we had barely seconds to ready ourselves before being shunted to Attribution's Share for Gauntlet Day.

Nexius, realizing before all of us what was happening, threw the white hot amulet to the ground and repeated pounded it with his Elder Scroll. I used old Ethos on the Amulet, not even it could penetrate the barrier. He rose and erupted with fury towards Ninian, vociferating all the woes which have been brought on by her missteps. "I SHOULD DAMN YOU TO THE VOID FOR ALL YOU'VE DONE, THANK AKATOSH MY NIECE IS NOT HERE TO WITNESS THIS OR THERE WOULD BE NOT A FRAGMENT OF YOUR ENERGY LEFT ON THIS DIMENSION OF REALITY"

As my mentor used to say: "Beware the anger of a patient man." He didn't come up with the saying but he claimed to.

And Oblivion, hope no one touches Nexius' niece.


It sort of went like this:

A deep very slightly female voice echoed into our souls, deathly purple light slowly enveloping the whole burial chambers. "This mortal must be inconceivable unintelligent. I imprint that Amulet, fool! It belongs to my sweet Snake Mount (another name for Attribution's Share). You will now perish in our exultant arena, in a glorious conflict for a god's favor… and the title of Boethiah's Champion!" 

The morpholiphic anchor, formed as and of the amulet, allowed our souls, our essences, our consciousnesses, and our equipment to be transferred. The world morphed like the rippling surface of water, and suddenly a violent crash of lightning blinded us. Our eyes adjusted to a new landscape. 


An Oblivion plane.


Active storm clouds, with at least three lightning flashes a second, and a larch volcano. The second was made to resemble Red Mountain, and outshine it (typical Daedra). It was continuously erupting infinitely hot lava. It displayed two forced battling for supremacy, and notice. Boethiah's World-Which-Is-Her.

An arena formed of rickety bridges and a cooled flowing lava floor was ready for us. Two damnable Dremora, and a dozen of the worshippers that brought us here. The latter always die first on Gauntlet day, I'm assuming.

The spindly, crouching, fifteen foot tall skeleton with a tail as long as he is tall was in an alcove far, far above. Cackling as its lungs and stomach undulated, they were visible, it shrieked "Skkkiiiiiiiirmish for my Prince's fffickle favvvvor, mortals! You have but fifteen seconds.." This was Hunger, a powerful servant of Boethiah.

The Imprint of Boethiah was around his back leg, the Amulet's Imprint. Cal, the only conjurer, figured it out and stripped all armor to climb her way to the top, bridge after bridge. Meanwhile, we all were fighting, one versus one, sometimes more, at a time. T'was rather confusing to explain without diagrams and I doubt those would transfer to Hircine's Grounds. If that is where you are. And not destroyed.

Back to the story. I had to fight a bloody, ferocious, demonic Dremora. I had to use something of yours, with the one trick you'd always loved and hated. Needed to save Lorelei, as she was next in the grouping for none but I, or Morrowind would never find any peace. If that is the right goal, like I'd know.

Nexius actually didn't die, or even fare badly. Less than a month ago he would've been repulsed at the sight of a sword, let alone combat. S'nir, although having not talked at all since before meeting the Altmer, climbed onto wooden bridges and was picking off every target that became available to hit. Sheared off a Boethiah worshippers leg.

Many, many died, Del even became a physical being inside of one of our Secession leaders, terrible mistake. Thankfully it was only our consciousness and souls there, their bodies are alive… but I'm watching them. Ninian also died, to Nymaril, who appeared for this Gauntlet Day. Cal managed, slightly heroically and self-sacrificing, to destroy the Imprint, and the ties to Boethiah on the Amulet (the quasi-bridge, or the Object-Without-World). Cal isn't as purely focused and selfish. Think she's got a soft heart, like Daia.


Don't tell them I said that.


We were shunted back, falling quickly into utter void, the world vibrating before falling into nothing. Before we slammed, rather unceremoniously, into the dirt and void salt crypt. Face-first for most of them. 


Those who lived were physically and mentally unchanged, although very hardened and possibly scarred from the experience. These included:
Daia (she took care of herself… against a Dremora)

Every last other person awoke screaming, panting. The way I understood their frantic explanation was that their world was a muted sepia, all sounds distant as if their head was filled with cotton, and then forced underwater. Their souls were taken, given to Boethiah. Del could fix the colors with a quick illusion, but the flashes of horrors (strongest in Ninian) were present every time they closed there eyes. Del also seemed the most affected, never dealt with Daedra before.

I watched them flinch every time they blinked. Poor sods.




3rd Sun's Dusk


Good news, after a day of recovery, the rebel cell reconvened and we decided we would acquire the signatures of every house and the Queen, then send emissaries to White-Gold. However distasteful we find this Empire, we need them to end this peacefully. Dravis Indoril, a man of Dres, and a Telvanni man commencing the Ritual of Motion, will go as a diplomatic party there within days, to discuss the true compromise to be made. Additionally, we forced the Queen to sign a document denying the Vigilants from Morrowind.

Last notes, small sects of those favoring the Empire's direct control, or the Tribunal's, have been forming cults in some cities. Unknown what this will become, but insofar they appear benevolent. 
The Marked are staying in the temple they helped save, and intend to for almost a month, letting Nexius heal their more grievous wounds. Been a tiring week. There is some talk of naming them saints. Most believe this rather ludicrous. Beautiful temple though, shrine to Azura. Their personal plans are more conflicted than a debate between Sotha Sil, Kagrenac, and Julianos. I'd give the Company to see that.

Known issues that could become their focus:
The Dragonborn, his soul, the Seditioner's Amulet. Although purified from Boethiah, her imprint destroyed, his soul is not freed. They do not allow me the amulet. This might not end the greatest.
Arcane University might have knowledge on the reclaiming of the group's souls
Cult of the Ancestor Moth might know more about the mark, and the truth behind the rumors attesting to the Mark begetting the end.
The Mane was reported dead, with much wailing and clipping of fur throughout Senchal, Torval, and more. Khajiiti things.
A hundred damned Vaermina cultists in the No-Quin-Al, but I doubt they wish to go up against Daedra again.
Daedra have not ceased occasionally apparating randomly throughout Skyrim, Morrowind (though we are more equipped to deal with them), Cyrodiil, Black Marsh. Conflicted reports of this happening, and not happening in the slightest, in Alinor. Eleswyr unknown, but The last three and a half provinces seem perfectly safe. Research required, damned if its more to do with the old destinies.
The Dominion slow-sieging Hammerfell, they seem to only be attacking the Forebears. Old animosity.
Na-Rek and his undead army in Black Marsh. Although events are already set in place for that.
There is no High-King of Skyrim.
There is no Emperor of White-Gold, in the Heartlands. Although this might not be a bad thing, factions have argued that the Alessian, Reman, Septim Emperors were there for the good of the people. The Amulet of Kings and the Dragonfires were rules by Akatosh. An Emperor is not required. Does Akatosh care of his people still? Will he abandon them like Auri-El had his Falmer? The predecessor and their Ayleids? It is true that the Akatosh-worshipping priests are slightly more reclusive. Speculations only, of course.
Also, the Akaviri on the Telvanni Isles. Presumed they came here to see the Dragonborn, another reason he could've been waiting to fight for White-Gold. Might be trouble.

We drafted up a treaty, but there are bound to be changes, by the Reclamation church, and the Elder Council. Hopefully better days incoming for Morrowind, although I know not if that would help the people. I promised myself I would do the same for your homeland as well, l'veh. I suppose I have time. I am in my prime. I wish you a Hunt worthy of recognition, trophies to adorn a beautiful Graht-Asp home, like the one we had. 



                                                 - Moviris Sadras, mer of many 





Comment your characters opinion on what is TPM's foremost goal, using the list above or any others.

Ninian believes that the party needs to find more about the mark, but at this time she doesn't care about anything because she found gnesis and is happier than she has been her whole life.

The Third Battle of Cheydinhal
Fighting on the home-front.

The Third Battle of Cheydinhal




The Profound Marked

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III



Ninian Redoran






<Imperial Report to Seventh Centurion Davis Avira, Second Cohort, Third Legion>


29th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 250

          Seventh Centurion, Sir,

          My report of the Third Battle of Cheydinhal may perhaps conflict with those of others in our Century. You see, Sir, while various Daedra began operating, my tent was around the river bridge. As my tent collectively attests, the Daedra seemed disoriented and even confused at appearing here. This correlates with many other attacks throughout Cyrodiil, and similar to those in the other northwestern provinces. We saw a unique Daedroth, one possessing arachnid traits, though with seven heads all frothing at the mouth with lava, our Decanus believed it was from The Deadlands, as lava and horrific things tend to come from there. Others might say other planes, but I have no opinion, as I have no input on this matter. What I saw was a Daedra not in control of it's power, who began burning down the river bridge. After we made a tactical withdrawal, we began fighting the multitude of Scamps, and then we saw them. 

         Coming over the barren trees, through the bitter cold, came was appeared to be a black, reflective Silt Strider. My tent faltered and admittedly, we made some mistakes, but our Shadow Immune, my Second Decanus, and I, survived the multitude of scamps, at least a dozen. We marched forward, coming to this new threat of whatever was atop the Strider. We believed it was malevolent. 

          We were wrong.


          From a rope ladder, came a duelist with a Dwemer sword, who charged into the Telvanni manor desperate to find and save someone, an argonian with plated mail, a Breton spellsword, and a Dunmer archer. They searched the manor and then emerged at the perfect time, more exemplary tactics from my Second Decanus, and we surrounded a Clannefear, beating it down and down until the spellsword hacked off a rear leg, and its blood loss forced it's heart to beat no more. My Second Decanus was lying unconscious, therefore our Shadow Legionaire remained to heal his wounds, and those spontaneous heroes and I charged towards the Chapel to Arkay.

          In my old school in Leyawiin, they taught us briefly of the Daedric Princes, mainly their spheres and how to recognize the dealings of each… and to run away from them. A Daedroth is normally in service to Molag Bal, the Prince of (this is variable, depends who you ask) Domination. Bal despises Arkay, the Knights of Stendarr preach that he created the powerful vampires, and their lords, to spite Arkay, who believes all things have their time, and should live, and die. Therefore, his servant, the terrible, terrible Daedroth, was besieging the Chapel towards Arkay. I was prepared to leave such an impossible fight, multiple Legionnaires lied dead, incinerated, at it's feet. Yet in spite of this, these inexplicable heroes charged the damn beast.

          I thought it was the end, when it turned, and let loose a roar that shook us to our very souls. One of this group even turned and ran, understandably, as this roar was coupled with what I can only describe as a torrent of lava, which melted my tower shield, and crippled many of us. I was truthfully ready to run, fight a battle which was not absolutely hopeless, even though you and most of the Century were inside the Chapel. Still, they fought on. The argonian let loose a cry, and charged the beast, and as the spellsword gathered up energy, he let loose a green tinted blast that even knocked the foul thing down. I, with a quick prayer to Stendarr, followed them.

          We were fighting a losing battle, I tried to shield the argonian guerilla knight with my remains of a shield, but he didn't know how to fight to take advantage of this. Fortuitously, a woman, you probably had seen her, came sprinting extremely fast, summoning a bloody Daedric Chestplate and Shortsword, and she knew how to fight. Together, her and I felled the great beast, it's every action negated by our onslaught. It was only after this that I recognized her Dominion armor, but I did not care much, as the war was of our ancestors, and any savior of our town is a ally of mine.


          I did not see them much the rest of the rebuilding process, but I heard that they had left, two days since the battle. I do not agree with those in the Seventh Century that this group should be reported to the Pentius Oculatus (even though it is likely they already know and have a profile on them, they are spies), as even though there was seeming a Dominion soldier in their group, to Cheydinhal, they are heroes.

          That is all, sir.


          Long live The Empire!


                    -Respectfully, Rykus Darfora, Imperial Private, Seventh Century, Third Legion







<acquired by Del at Harm's Folly as The Profound Marked venture towards the Imperial City, from a Pentius Oculatus secure stash of recent reports and findings, which are used to spread word to all agents, undercover or sleeping, he checked after hearing how Nexius' family has been arrested on the charges of treason and plotting against the Elder Council, which has become another focus of the party>

The Arena, The Trial
If the world ever was just...

The Arena, The Trial




The Profound Marked

Ninian Redoran

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Essendale Hawking III





<report filed to REDACTED, Evening Star 13th, 4E 250>


I am Vel. Dunmer. Ashlander. Exile.


Peradventure the last Ashlander, the last of the old ways, the last of the Velothi culture. The days of Morrowind are over. So be it. 

I scribe this to inform of why I do what I do. Prophet Veloth taught the Chimer many things. He foretold the coming of GHARTOK PADHOME. He brought us to Resadyn. He taught us honor and life away from the lying, coveting, charlatans of Aldmer.

It was this honor that led me to the Marked. I care not what this mark means. Yet still it begets more danger than many a fiend on old Vvardenfell. Shown as such when the small, blond nord, swinging an axe and bellowing a scream of "freeing the soul of all true power." The girl. In the Tong. She stopped his swing, I stopped his breathing. I would have went on, I had shown, but they desired my company.

And so I joined them. I am sorry.

In the night, a man with a blade from a Daedric Realm went upon Nexius, cutting his face. I do not possess the knowledge of why. Perhaps the nymics, perhaps Dagon simply wishes death upon the Marked. I do not wish this end upon them, but I believe it will come to pass. Such is the fate of all things, decreed as and of Mephala.

When the Marked ventured into the Grand Arena, I was required. They tell me I saved the life of Cal, Ninian. I do not believe it as so. Their lives continue, perhaps destiny, perhaps luck, but I cannot accept their gratitude. Ninian's aim with her dagger is unholy, astounding, and a skill that should be noted. In case we ever do fight.

After the trial, I told Cal of how I tracked the Legate of the Third Legion. How we have discovered his vampirism. We plan to force his Legion to fight itself, while we kill him. Kill corruption, kill resistance. Save the city, as the idealist would say. I do not trust her. I do not trust Cal. I do not trust the Marked. There are too many rumors and vile secrets in the city of Gilded Towers.


The ending of the words is BETRAYAL.




<Knight of Mercy Corellius' personal log, as required of all Knights of Stendarr and Vigilants of Stendarr, as to assist those who find your corpse if you shall fail in your quest>


On Evening Star 8th, they found me again. In the market of all places! Three times gives us luck, perhaps we shall uncover the mysteries of this city. They spoke of many issues, such as Nexius' family being tried for treason, a disappearing Redguard woman who could be dead, and the Mark itself. We stayed in a beautiful Inn that night and fended off a Daedra worshipper.

On Evening Star 9th, Nexius was imprisoned by the Gold Guard, although we would not know of this for a few days. Del met with the Oculatus, I believe, and he did not seem pleased with it. Cal, Ninian, and I went on a quest to find the missing Redguard woman named Ri Taka. It was a strange mission, as we found her drunk and partying in the Elven Gardens. She was a beggar, therefore her rich jewelry and clothing immediately made us suspicious. Cal noticed the miniscule details of vampire bites on her neck, and a broken potion bottle among the broken beer bottles. Ninian, an alchemist, verified it as Cure Disease. She had given her blood to a vampire for a thousand gold. Cal immediately moved to defend them, which I respect, yet as we later realized, even these benign vampires have dark aspirations.

On Evening Star 10th, the Marked fought in the Arena. Foolishly. They fought fallen Blades, purposeless without the Dragonborn. Pity he died, I heard he despised undead. I gathered information on vampires and learned of a strain of Cyrodillic vampires, who made a deal with Clavicus Vile. They do not look any different than men, except when starving. Silver even has little effect on them. Very grim tidings.

On Evening Star 11th, we finally heard of the trial of Nexius, and his family. Naturally we all went and allied with him, fighting the Praefect Varexia and her court. It was true, Morrowind has been greatuly abused, and both nations prospered greatly, when separate. I attested to Nexius' pure heart and character. I pulled my holy sword and thrust it into the Imperial seal, proclaiming that if a man with as good intentions as Nexius Telvanni is guilty, then I will put up my blade. The Empire would not be worth fighting for, the Daedra will have corrupted the hearts of too many. This was in fact, denied, as treason was treason, regardless of the validity of our statements regarding the mistreatment of Dunmer. Nexius did kidnap Queen Lorelei with the other rebels. The Mark aside. Ciri sent by Moviris, managed to manipulate the corrupt council into a stalemate. Such an unfair trial, Nexius being guilty until proven innocent, was not legal in the Empire, not for a proper citizen. As such, they would have to proclaim to the people that not every citizen gets a fair trial, causing much unrest, or give Nexius temporary freedom and time to build a real argument. I believe it was rather impressive, the way she could use words to save lives rather than a blade.



<Ciri's account>

"No, Movs, I'm busy saving a cat from the gallows" Ciri had already taken two contracts this month, Moviris was asking a lot. How many people could he possibly need saving? Was this even ethical?

"Looks like another innocent will die, as you're the only contact I have left in the Empire. They sort of distaste me now. Hope they get over it, dark clouds arising and all."

Ciri knew Moviris was manipulating her, she had grown accustomed to his games, somewhat. Yet, he was right, few men or mer in The Third Empire care to step in the way of the Elder Council. Even to save a life. "Did they steal a noble's daughter? Assassinate the wrong man? Or does the damned Council simply wish to extend its indomitable arm again, and crush and who would oppose them in their ranks?"

There was a sigh from Moviris, rather distorted too, as even the Telvanni could not relay messages for long, over such distances, without interruptions. "About that. You see, they're good people at heart, and they truly care about the downtrodden, having each been one themselves. I, for one, attest to their devotion to freedom, same as you. Same as Jorviel. "

"Low, Sadras. Salting wounds that have already healed. I did notice you avoided the question, those tricks won't get you far in a true nobleman's court".

"Very well. They may or may not have been forcibly named in a prophecy as the potential destroyers of the world. And then started a cold war in Morrowind, kidnapped the queen, and sent me to Mournhold here to treat for secession" He paused. "They saved a man, helped him start a brewery."

"Dibella's ass, Movs. Throw me in Red Mountain, it'll be quicker."

Despite her reluctance, Moviris knew, of course, that she would help the Marked. Ciri was noble, defending those who could not do so themselves. Ever since Jorviel, and her parents. He admires that in her. Almost wishes he was that dependable. Never could sit still long enough to keep those he loved safe.

Nonetheless, Moviris went to the Hortator, as obviously he needs assistance in leading, and Ciri went to the Marked. 




<note sent to The Marked by way of dark elf child, with boots of speed>



Final notes, a collection of new rumors:


Loreaine is a new god, in the Altmer pantheon. 

Tee-Len's missing Redguard friend, later turned out to be willingly missing.

Vampires in Cyrodiil.

Nords after the party?

Mehrunes Razor used by a Dagon agent on Nexius?

AKATOSH EXTREMELY DISPLEASED. He abandoned the Snow Elves as Auri-El, who became the Falmer. He abandoned the Ayleids, who became extinct. He may abandon the Empire next, after all, his chosen line of Emperors has been destroyed.

Battlespire's trans-liminal bridges "upset"

The Apprentice's tomb has been located and is being delved

A weapon called the Broadsword of the Moon Reiver is being searched for, by the Dagon agent.

Knights of Stendarr in town.

Strange dealings between the Third Legate and some governing members of the Empire. Possibly more.

The Azura's Star was sought by Na-Rek for whatever reason, and now it lies broken in the old Tribunal Temple in Mournhold. Probably.


Comment what you think ties all these rumors (or at least the majority) together. Seriously you get xp if you do.

When all Hope is Demolished
Merciful Nevermore.

When all Hope is Demolished


STDAR 4 MINORTEM Capital, 4E250
Knight of Mercy Corellius, duly noted under the digital house,

Auroran Vexed and STDAR Approved
Sapiotemporal Delivery: souljewel count: 0001-34-43-02-XXX



A new animus has apparated. Corellius.
Our plane(t) of STDAR, of the arm, of the eight, of the Aurbis.
The Digitals register the Merciful Knight.
He is accepted into STDAR, everlast his peace.


He follows Precepts one, two, three, four,
as well as the additional twelve, albeit unknowingly.
Ones vote shall have been to claim through Lattice.
Let it be submitted by memospore, read or not by STDAR.




"Tsapoliton!!!" I (Corellius) screamed. I was just, simply, impaled by the masterful tents of the Imperials. Always dropped my left shoulder too low. Should've trained with a shield. Ah well, live by the Precepts, die by the Precepts.


I am a man of the Colovian Empire, I am a Knight of Mercy. I am a man of Skingrad, I am a Knight of Stendarr.


This is my afterlife. For as long as it lasts, as they have informed me, without taking time. This is quite expected, and I shall grow accustomed to time as something flippant. Here in Aetherius. By damn Dagon, I'm dead. With time-outside-time, they call it, I can reflect on the damnable events that led us, me, here. It is much of what I do. They say most who die remain anchored to Mundus for many centuries, it varies. Hopefully not too much so, as I do discorporate ghosts myself. Or I had.

The Marked, old friends, stuff of heroes and prophecy and foolhardy failure. Their spies found absolute proof of vampirism in the residence of the Praefect, in the New Julianos District. She had an illusionary wall they told me! What was most riddling was a logbook of financial transactions, including money sent to Dusk, in Alinor, money sent to the Third Legion (which we believed at the time was vampire-controlled), and to an expedition near Bruma to go to "APSR" and retrieve something.

Taking this proof to the second trial date, Ciri detailed the rules of the <u>Necromantic Ban of 3E431</u>. I believe she said it would sentence any undead to death that was unwilling, or harming others, as well as render null and marked for annihilation any group including or being led by undead. This was around the time of Mannimarco, cursed be his name. After Ninian's bumbling and the witness of the house's testimony, she fled. Almost captured by Ninian and Cal, she simply threw them off and ran. Stendarr's might… your might… brought her will down and she sprinted away fearfully, unintelligibly and animalistic, where Cal could simply hack her down.

Nexius was free. His family safely sent to Cheydinhal. We had won!

Cal would've said, it was until we trusted someone. I wonder what afterlife she has. If she has one, Altmer dislike that sort of thing.

Vel woke us in the night, speaking of the rumors of corruption in the Third Legion, and his proof of this. He believed, he said, that the Third Legate was the mastermind behind all of this. He was our friend, he fought with the foolish Marked in the Arena! Cal was, at that point, believing his every word! I was distrusting… but possibly because of jealousy. I regret this decision to stay behind. I regret much, I see, now as I look back on my time on Nirn.


I am a man of the Empire, I am a Knight. I am a man of the Empire, I am a Knight.


I can see it now. They traveled six hours by the horses who mastered sprinting, black horses of Cheydinhal. They did not question where they were acquired. En route, they planned to split up to meet with each of the groups of Cohorts, approximately one per major city, and more troops from the wilderness and small cities. 

Del went to the western group, with the belief this one was the least likely to be corrupt, and convinced them and gained their total trust. He had them plan to go to the shrine of Bal, the meeting place for Legate Acquius' plan, and have a civilized meeting
with the other groups, to discuss the Vampyrum.

Nexius and Ninian went to the Southern group, possibly the most dangerous, and convinced of their intentions through absolute proof of the Praefect's corruption. Their plan was to meet the other Cohorts and demand with a show of arms, all Vampires be brought forward.

Vel and Cal gained the Northern group's trust through immediately recognizing vampires in the midst of the Centurions. Or they thought they did. Regardless, with the trust they had acquired, Cal planned with the Seventh Tribune that they were to use most of
their battlemages' magicka to muffle the entire two-and-half Cohorts, and surround all other groups at the most opportune moment. Incapacitate them all and discover who is undead.

It brings tears to my eyes on how horrifically it ended.


I am a man, I am a Knight. I am a man, I am a Knight.


The Western group stood on the hill, around the Dagon shrine waiting. Legate Acquius' plan was to gather all his Legion, his trusted friends for many years, and take White-Gold, declaring Martial law as his battlemages detects all undead in the entire city. The Southern group arrived, demanded all Vampires be brought out, and when none stepped forward, they charged. The Third Legion began war with itself, its own brothers.

The Northern group, once all sides were committed, surrounded, perfectly, all the battlefield, tents structured and spears sharpened. They would have slaughtered the other sides, if not for the battlemages of the other two groups, summoning Frost Atronachs enough to knock aside tents like toys, and one (or possibly Bal) even calling an absolute thunderstorm, sudden lightning arcing down every few seconds. Del seemed to cast a pitch black darkness over eighty percent of the battlefield, and the chaos of it becoming a fearful war against the darkness caused possibly more death, possibly more time to delay.

I can only observe the spore, as the Marked finally gathered at the Dagon shrine, Cal trying to destroy it, Nexius using the Holy Word of Mara to make absolutely afraid all undead within sixty meters.

Not a man fled.


There were no vampires in the Third Legion; The Legate was truthful. 


As their hearts sunk lower than the Dwemer fortresses, they began screaming, but their screams were less than whispers to the carnage and devastation of the display. Molag Bal's eyes glowed freakishly, seemingly smirking. From the Northwest came the pure light banner, larger than the oak trees of the Great Forest, of the Knights of the Dragon. Their leader, Sir Kael, rode forward with pure white sunlight, dripping off his dual scimitars. He took control in many ways, of the Marked at least, and together they formed a semblance of a remedy.

Cal tried to get those closest to form up, and through her commanding skills and proof of lack of Vampirism, she commanded a few tents, and fought to a battlemage. The battlemage sent flare after flare, displacing to a quick meeting of all the battlemages. These are the Cyrodiils, after all; they are the most coordinated fighting force. After all the chaos, they managed to shoot white flares, agreeing finally, and the fighting ceased.

Wailing, crying, moaning. They had murdered their brothers, their family, their leaders. The Mark of the Profound shall <s>IAOSJOFINASDGOUILGSTDAR DENIED, SCROLLS MNEMOLII [NUMINIT].</s> show the way through the end.


I.. am a man, I am a Knight. I am a man, I am a Knight!


-ey returned to White-Gold. Vel came to us and gave us the information that High Chancellor Motierre was to be assassinated by the Vampyum. They could not turn him, for whatever reason. In his hideout, inside the wall, he watched with hawk eyes. Jeweled,
enchanted arrows that could pierce through all magic were notched, and he gave one to Ninian. Sir Kael, Nexius, Del, went to to the guards. Sir Kael used his silver tongue which none knew he possessed, and appealed to the guards' sense of honor, obligation to Hammerfell, reliance on the Knights of the Dragon. One guard's son read fables of the old Knights of the Dragon.

They went to the guards of Motierre, had them raise protection as the speech could not be canceled. The speech would change the Empire. They put up marble walls, magical barriers, barriers, everything. Lord High Chancellor Motierre spoke of the finality of the discussion on the Empire's government. There has been no Emperor for 49 years, and now there will be never be another one. A permenant Republic, he said, seconds before death. As he said this, all Elder Scrolls in the Imperial City disappeared, whether they've left the world or simple the city is unknown. About one in a thousand citizens reported flames, screaming, the sky opening up in yellow lighting shards, but the others only heard some concerned yelling from inside White-Gold. The truth is subjective, the matter simple; all Scrolls have left mortality. Akatosh is displeased. (If the followers of the Eight-plus-One Divines are explaining it).

The strike which pain us most are those which come from those trusted, our allies, our friends.

Vel loosed his arrow, striking Motierre in the heart, a second in his turned temple. It pierced all magic, an artifact. Jumping from the wall with another artifact, his boots which let him land safely, and sprinting away with speed and stamina we could understand
now. He was Vampyrum. His unnatural strength, his agility and fitness despite his age of three-hundred-fifty. Sir Kael does not wear armor and as a Redguard, he is both obstinate and determined. He sprinted after this Dunmer for thirty minutes, and nearing the wall
he tore the boots from Vel, with help from a lightning speed Ninian, using a scroll. They did catch the traitor, and would have killed him, if not for the corruption of the Empire.

Guards came, at the call of an old man being assaulted, and threw each party to the ground. Vel was taken away by a Councilor, most likely a Vampiric one. I could not refuse to aid those I have the power to, as the first Precept. I murdered the commander, and his
hefty gold purse from being paid off hit the ground. Cal stayed with me, and I am thankful neither of us were alone in our final hour. We died to allow the Marked to escape.. their destiny is not mine. 

Their destiny is greatness, mine was not.


I.. was a man, I was a Knight… I was a man, I was a Knight.


Perhaps it is best to let go, after all, my dear friends and allies can not benefit from my assistance. I can not save anymore, I can not heal. The honors I experienced here are beautiful, but it is time to rest. 


They say I have arrived at this belief much, much faster. The Digitals. They cannot be understood.


I was a man, I was a Knight.

Mundus is behind me, Calesse Thilinus a beautiful, commandeering, memory.


I was on Nirn, I protected the weak.

Peace now, they say, dreaming and love everlasting.


I existed, I will always have.

Forever happiness, the Digitals shall record, the kalpa always a memory. 


I, always remembered.

And I was.. someone. Someone good? Was I.. something..?


Who was I? Who-





(if you don't understand, it was him on Stendarr's plane of Aetherius, passing on into final rest and his life force forever passing)





<Vel and his report to the <u>Pentius Oculatus</u>, although it is simply given to a member of the Vampyrum and burned>


The Ashlanders of old exiled me. Blacklight exiled me. The Red Year. Death of my kind. The last few lost to the world. Lharzae. Her memory paints her as my wife, though I do not possess the ability to remember her, as living I could. Azura might give me the memory, but I would not ask. I could not. I dare not…

I killed her. I speak of this in a sense. She died by my hand. My failure. The Cyrodilic Vampyrum, in Blacklight as Ambassadors. They infected her when I was lax in my protection, my wards, and my love. She lost her life, to unlife.

She took to the life well, to my horror. Serving on the Elder Council for many years, before I attempted her life. Her eyes. It haunts me, it terrified me at night more than Azura's and Mephala's tortures. She looked at me as my dagger tore her heart, the betrayal.

I suppose it did not matter. To Azura she was dead long ago, even her soul. I do not know if this is true but I am not a Mabrigash or a Wise-Woman of Ashigan. She did not die again. Instead she infected me, but in her rage she did not as an equal, as her lover, but as a thrall.


I serve the Vampyrum. I am undeath.






"Ciri, this channel is for life or damnation, this better not be to tell me about the Tang Mo you just saved from years of torture and had tea with."

"Obviously, half-as-clever radish. The Marked. They're free with a simple legal trick any practitioner could do, but they're deathly unmotivated. Hell, Cal died. You said Rizita was stripped of destiny too. We need these Heroes smart, quick, agile. And not forcing our Legions to fight themselves, by Syracuse!"

"They didn't… and your Legions, you know I'm through with New Cyrod."

"Did you expect better? They need to know, without it they're going to repeat such disastrous blunders"

"No, Ciri, they cannot. You know this."

"Give me something, or I have no damn reason to care for you and your underhanded deals. To Coldharbour with your games. If you were on the Elder Council I'd be fighting your every move."

"Fine Seriatus. I'll have Dravis Indoril go to you, bearing a dreaming-ring for the Telvanni's father. A copy of the plans to rebuild Mournhold with the Redoran's money. Proof of Na-Rek's death and the slow routing of his army. Xarxces, they've fought to save Black Marsh, freed all of Morrowind, saved every soul in Cheydinhal. Show them their trail of lights as they look towards the darkness"

"Will you ever stop being enigmatic and eccentric? My uncle wasn't this theatrical, and he worshiped Sheogorath!"

"They need to see that being a hero of the lower-case is not being a light in the darkness surrounding one's self, but being the light for those who do not possess the candle to light the darkness surrounding them. Not.. abandoning those who depend on them… I apologize Ciri, I'll return in a few hours, I wish to see Tamriel from White-Gold. Take heed of my own advice."

"You're a hero Mov, don't fail to see that, at least"
"Moviris ******* Sadras, you know how much magicka potions I have to pay for to commit this spore?? Wadarsho doesn't want to do this. Yet you ignore me in my own nation."
"Go be dramatic. I have stables to clean, to save a good knight from the block."








The Profound Marked

Calesse Thilinus, Deceased.

Nexius Telvanni

Delysaurus Hawking Essendale III

Sir Kael

Ninian Redoran


comment or I'll stop writing these :(

Gage wuz her. honestly Logan, these are really awesome, I enjoy reading them.

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."

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 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. 

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>

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



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   



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