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It had never truly occurred to me exactly what I had been through during the travels throughout Cyrodiil. As the sight of the fortress built into the Jerals came into sight I was suddenly struck with a surge of emotion, a combination of anxiety and stress that made me grip Trygve’s reins tightly and grit my teeth. It was autumn in the year 434 of the third Era, Cloud Ruler was before my very eyes but these previous months in particular had new meaning to me. Just over a year prior I had been a condemned man, bound and on the road towards the Imperial City and fated for death and yet now I was more than I would have ever believed.I was a renowned member of the Fighters Guild, a mostly secret member of the Blades, a hero who had stepped into Oblivion and saved a city not once but twice and had fought werewolves and vampires to save Glenvar county. I had fought daedra by the scores, fought bandits and other criminals from the woods and plains of Anvil to the depths of the Blackmarsh swamps, and fought as a knight alongside a being easily described as a demigod. Most mortals would have struggled to accomplish a fraction of the things that I had undertaken and while the nightmares were growing more numerous and fighting amongst themselves for precedence to haunt my sleep there was a simple reason why they had little effect on me.Despite the fact that I had also been cursed with vampirism, had consumed the essence of a daedra and damned myself in more ways than one, the simple fact that I wasn’t doing so alone was keeping me strong. Of all the insane events that had happened in such a short space of time it was strangely enough the fact that I had found Viconia and how we had developed feelings for each other that truly struck me as ludicrous.After so long fighting and living in close proximity we had gained measure of each other and had learned enough that we understood each other even without words. This was why when we made our way up the winding road to the towering gates of the Blades’ fortress that I could feel her gaze on me.“I don’t think I will ever be able to understand how you can charge into a battle without hesitation, and yet panic over meeting people you already know.” Her laugh echoed over the sounds of a bell chiming within the fortress as we neared it and already I could see curious eyes in Akaviri armour staring down upon us.“If you ever work it out let me know, then we’ll both know.”Loud whistles were heard from the parapets, and I waved at the collection of Blades that I knew were up there. From the sounds of armoured boots and my enhanced senses I could tell that there were dozens on the walls alone, which meant that the entire Order was finally present. Viconia was right though, I could somehow manage to charge head first into danger but meeting friends and acquaintances was difficult to stomach.Thankfully, such a situation in many ways was out of my control and even as the giant doors ground open I could see a handful of familiar faces among the number of Blades letting their curiosity get the better of them.“You know that you are meant to share the glory?” called out one voice, and I smiled as I recognised it.“Why do you think that I travel with Viconia, Belisarius?” as Trygve passed into the gatehouse I slid out of the saddle, seeing the veteran Blade shift through the press and quickly make his way down the stairs. He didn’t seem to waste any time in gripping my arm tightly in welcome, and also quickly did the same with Viconia in turn as she dismounted from Ultrin.“The stories about you two are getting more and more exaggerated.” He replied, smiling whole-heartedly and gesturing for a pair of the more junior members of the order to lead our horses onwards. “But, with even half of the stories that I know to be true it makes it difficult to discern fact from fiction.”“It has been a busy year.” Viconia added, giving her own variation of a friendly smile to Belisarius that for most people would have left them unnerved.Showing either familiarity with her or simply his stronger will, Belisarius returned the smile but I could sense the hesitation behind it as we made our way up the stairs. “It has been for all of us but I can appreciate what you two have been through. The Relics of the Crusader! Knight Commanders! You are making it very difficult for the rest of us to be able to follow your example.”“We’re not Knight Commanders anymore.” Viconia’s expression was one that showed very little of her annoyance of having to give up our ranks within the Order of the Nine to return to the Blades. “Caleb and Alexi Vanevius are the Knight Commanders of the Order of the Nine.”“Alexi? I had heard that he had joined the Order and that you all had been through a lot together. Looks like it will be some time before we meet on the tourney fields again.”Belisarius finally noticed my gaze and turned to face me at the top of the stairs where a large number of the Blades were gathering around us in their interest. My interest was in the master swordsman of the Order, and the strange energy that seemed to be filling his limbs with nervousness. While my nerves were straining from our return, he was uncharacteristically anxious.“What’s going on Beli?”Blowing out a breath that puffed a cheek he gestured in the direction of the stables where our horses were being lead to and I saw the collection of thoroughbreds occupying some of the stalls. While not warhorses they were exceptional steeds of a quality that would have put a sizable dent in Viconia’s and my remaining finances and my unease increased markedly.“Well,” he began, looking about and making several sharp gestures that sent the gathering of Blades back to their duties. “We have been very busy these past months, and so has Martin. Only a few weeks ago the expedition to Sancre Tor returned and since then all preparations have been going into Martin’s ritual.”Realisation dawned in my mind and I couldn’t help but glance at Viconia who was listening intently. “That’s why Jauffre sent that request for us to return.”She nodded simply. “The ritual is nearing completion.”“It’s not ‘nearing’ completion,” Belisarius added. “It ‘is’ completed, at least for the last three days. We’ve had members of the Mages Guild here for the past month, including Hannibal Traven from the Arcane University assisting.”“If it has been completed, then what’s the problem?”Belisarius looked between the two of us, holding open one of the doors leading into Cloud Ruler’s living quarters for us to enter. “Depending on your point of voice there isn’t one, but the Grandmaster and Martin have been waiting for you two to arrive. I… think it’ll be better for them to explain in person.”As though his words weren’t foreboding enough there was very little time for us to re-establish ourselves within the living quarters before he led us further into Cloud Ruler. There was a distinct feeling of tensions from everyone that we saw, and the entire fortress was undoubtedly on high alert as well. Despite our best efforts Belisarius remained uncharacteristically silent, leading us into the private quarters but I quickly gained the impression that he didn’t truly know, or at least understand what was going on well enough to tell us.Since our last visit it appeared that very little had changed in the fortress except the increased number of Blades and others who were calling it home at the moment. The stockpiles all seemed to be just as full, even if the stores of weapons and armour were obviously going through a considerable refurbishment and from our quick journey there was also a significant focus on ensuring that there were adequate foodstuffs for a lengthy siege.It came as very little surprise when we were brought into one of the smaller meeting halls set aside for senior blades. While close to Jauffre’s office and quarters it was considerably larger, containing a long table and over a dozen seats that were filled as we were brought inside.Jauffre and Martin were easy to spot, as were a couple of the higher ranking members of the Blades. What was partially surprising was the number of non-Blades within the room, all of which studied us intently as Belisarius led us inside.There were several warm smiles, and other friendly acknowledgments and Jauffre’s and Martins faces were alight as they saw us. Whatever they had been discussing with the others fell into a somewhat uncomfortable silence and my sense of foreboding only increased further by the anxiousness that most were infected by.“Kaius! Viconia!” Jauffre was on his feet and moving around the table even before we reached it ourselves and before I knew what was happening my hand was being grasped by the master spy in a firm handshake. “It is good to see you both. I honestly wasn’t sure whether you two would make it here.”“We received you message and came as soon as we were able.” Viconia’s expression was one of cold amusement as she too received a friendly handshake and shared a smile with Martin seated at the end of the table. “The Order of the Nine has kept us busy.”Martin was looking at the two of us very carefully, and I could feel the way that he seemed to be taking a measure of us after so many months. “So we have heard. I doubt there is a person in all Tamriel who hasn’t heard how you two retrieved the Relics of the Crusader.”“What about the Order defeating Umaril?” I asked, feeling awkward under the intense scrutiny of over a dozen individuals. I didn’t recognise many but their clothes and mannerisms spoke of their authority and it wasn’t a pleasant sensation being studied like an insect pinned to a wall.“That too, however I believe current events might be eclipsing it somewhat.” Moving alongside Viconia, Jauffre nodded to the various others in the room and gestured between the two of us. “I doubt that any of you have met in person, but may I introduce the Heroes of Kvatch; Sir Kaius Desin and Madame Viconia DeVir.”Surprisingly enough there was several bows of respect or simple nods of acknowledgement from the others as Jauffre began introducing them in turn. What suspicions I already had, were suddenly increased by tenfold and it was not a situation that was lessening anytime soon.Firstly, when Jauffre introduced the first person, an Imperial man in his aging years I couldn’t help but feel concerned with the presence of the head of the Arcane University. Hannibal Traven looked over seventy years old but there was a… sensation from being in his vicinity of the powers he had at his command. The magicka emanating from someone who appeared as harmless as a grandfather was incredible to behold and yet he wasn’t the only magicka user within the room.Tar-Meena was at least a name that was recognisable, even if we hadn’t met her in person it was difficult not to remember the Argonian scholar responsible for researching the Mythic Dawn Commentaries. While our interactions were her had been through Baurus she was still quite friendly as we were introduced properly.The others were of various demeanours, ranging from indifferent to outright hostile. Hannibal Traven wasn’t the only high ranking mage within the room and representatives of the College of Winterhold and surprisingly enough the Telvanni were also present. While arrogant and dismissive almost to the point of physically slapping people, the fact that the greatest magicians of Morrowind were in a room with representatives of those easily considered long-time rivals was a concern onto itself. That’s not to mention the fact that they actually appeared to be collaborating with them.“I understand you two have only just arrived and have been through a lot these past months but time is against us all I’m afraid.”“You’ve successfully prepared the ritual.” Viconia said without any regard to decorum and while most of the mages within the room looked annoyed at the disrespect, I couldn’t help but see the Telvanni magister crack his face with the hint of a smile.“We have.” Martin’s reply was short and succinct but such a statement carried a significant amount of weight. “With the assistance of these individuals and their respective groups and organisations it has been ready for almost a week now.”No words were needed between Viconia and myself as we shared a glance that were mirrors of concern. Slowly looking over the group I felt the core of ice settle in my stomach and feeling my tongue grow dry. “Dagon’s armies are preparing to invade this county in the coming weeks and time is of the essence. Why the wait?”“Because we only have one chance of this ritual working.” The leader of the Arcane University stated simply. “Despite the all of our combined resources and those acquired by the Blades, one, and only one person will be able to pass through the portal into Mankar Camoran’s Paradise. Grandmaster Jauffre and young Martin here convinced us that that to improve our chances of success, that one person will need to be carefully chosen.”“Hasn’t convinced all of us.” Growled Benllin Redor, the representative of House Talvanni. “The fate of the world is at stake and you haven’t been able to provide reasons why a House Wizard couldn’t be our chosen champion.”“Kaius and Viconia both have considerable experience in such situations, and I daresay that they have just as much experience entering Oblivion as any wizard of Morrowind.” While Martin’s words were harsh and were brooking no insubordination, there was still a diplomatic quality to them as he reasoned with Benllin. “They have achieved much these past months.”I couldn’t help but agree with him even as I felt as though I was stepping off the edge of a cliff.“Kaius, Viconia.” Jauffre said, addressing us with a tinge of regret infusing his words. “The reason why I requested you two to return is that we have decided that you are the best choice to enter the portal. Your deeds and achievements are already legendary which is why, most of us believe you are capable of doing this.”“Only one of us can enter though.”Nodding sadly, Martin’s eyes were on the two of us as he replied to my statement. “Yes. You both have a choice in all this. Two in fact. You can choose not to enter Camoran’s Paradise and we will find a different agent, and the other choice is which of the two of you will enter to retrieve the Amulet of Kings.”Both Viconia and I stared at each other for what seemed to be an age and I could see her conviction easily even before she nodded. “We will do it. But… I think Kaius is more suited.”I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprised from her admission of my suitability or the fact that I detected a hint of fear within her. To anyone else it would have been undetectable but I could almost taste her sudden trepidation.“Do you agree Kaius?”Shrugging, I looked between Jauffre and Martin, feeling everyone’s gaze focus in on me like the heat of the sun. “Well, I will enter the portal, but I don’t know whether I agree whether I’m the most suited.”“Now is not the time for false modesty, Mrannd’ssinss. We have done a lot together but you have shown your worth more many times over. It was you who destroyed the Mythic Dawn’s shrine and rescued me. We have fought for months together and like it or not, you have been the reason why we are still breathing after many of our battles.”I could feel her scrutiny and the way that her eyes were burning into mine was stating something else that was remaining unsaid. I knew what she was alluding to, and knew why she was agreeing that I was the most suited. Despite her own capabilities and skills, my vampirism was a considerable advantage for entering Oblivion alone.“I will do it.” I said after a moment’s hesitation, even as I tried to ignore the way that my heart was suddenly racing and my guts felt as though consumed with acid.There was no applause, no congratulations or other acknowledgements from the men and women in the room. Instead there was a chill that had nothing to do with the stone room carved from the mountain and a series of expressions that showed just how much was riding on such a simple statement. The Amulet of Kings must be retrieved for us to have any hope against what was coming.“Good.” Jauffre didn’t seemed overly happy but I knew that none of us truly had a choice in the matter. “Unfortunately we can’t offer long for you to prepare for this endeavour. The ritual is ready, but the last adjustments and preparations will take a few hours so we can grant you until tomorrow morning to ready yourself.”Viconia and I were silent and already my mind was roaming, thinking of what I could and would need to once again step into the depths of Oblivion. The wizards and mages within the room were already deep in discussion within moments of my acceptance of such a task and just like that it was decided. We had barely been at cloud ruler for an hour and yet the next stage of our journey had already begun. I knew I should have felt fatigue or exhaustion at such a constant struggle over the previous year but strangely enough my mind had other ideas. An energy unlike any other was once again threading through my veins with its familiar touch and with nothing else to do I began to ready myself.It was slightly amusing to the two of us as we retired from the meeting of the magicka users and went about readying for the day to come. We had arrived in the mid-afternoon, which left us the rest of the evening and night to find quarters for ourselves. Jauffre had somehow arranged for us to have access to one of the spare officers’ quarters, which I did find funny as the last time any of them had seen Viconia and I we had only just accepted our feelings and attractions for one another. Somehow something as tiny as this was also enough evidence to show how much had changed between us, although the several hours we spent in each other’s arms was more obvious.Between the customary nervousness I always had before a potential fight and Viconia and I putting the night-time hours into more passionate use I had very little sleep. Somehow though I awoke feeling strangely refreshed with only a handful of hours sleep, but the nervousness still remained.“We have been through a lot.” Viconia muttered as I dressed myself and began placing on my armour.“We’ve been through more in a year than dozens would in their entire lives.” My breastplate felt snug as I pulled it tight, but I felt more comfortable wearing it than not. It was almost like I was naked without the extra weight over my body.“This would be where I would tell you that I’m worried about you going alone, but truthfully I’m not concerned. I had concerns in Anvil when you helped the Guild with the bandits but we’ve survived worse.”“I’m still amazed every time I hear concern in your voice, Viconia.”Despite the flash of annoyance, there was amusement in her eyes as she looked at me. “Don’t get used to it wael. It is fleeting and momentary.”Pulling on my vambraces and tightening the straps I couldn’t help but smile back at her darkening expression. “Fleeting and momentary they are, but they seem to becoming more regular these days.”“My fate is entwined with yours, as much by choice as by fate.” I felt her fingers and her nails trailed down my armour with faint metallic clinking. “I am glad that we have found each other, even with how much I hate how much I depend on you.”“We depend on each other.” The darkness in her tone was all too familiar and it was as part as her as her scarred skin. “That is not weakness.”I could feel her proximity and sense it, not only through the heat of her body but by the natural perfume of her flesh as she pulled me closer. “It can be when we find ourselves in situations like this. You are going somewhere where I can’t follow and that does worry me.”“I think we’ve been through worse than this.”“But not alone.” The flint of her soul was visible as she turned me around and tugged on my breastplate as though checking how secure it was. “Don’t hold anything back.”“Viconia…”“You heard me. Don’t. Hold. Back.” Her wolf yellow eyes were faintly burning with fire as her infravison took over in the semi-darkness of our quarters. “You are going into Oblivion alone, and you know as well as I do why I said you were more suitable for this task. In many ways I am your superior; magicka, stealth…”“In the bedroom…”Her slap was light and well-meaning but the look that appeared in her eye was one of subtle warning. “I’m serious Kaius. In many ways I am more than your equal, but what is in here…” she tapped a fingernail against my chest. “Is something that I will never be able to compete against. Use it. Use what you have inside you and don’t hold it back in the slightest. I want… Need you to come back.”“I will.”“Don’t make promises that are difficult to keep.”The light knocking on the door punctuated our conversation, followed by the somewhat muffled words from the Blade outside. Viconia and I pulled apart, but only after enveloping each other in each other’s arms for a moment.The sky was still grey outside of Cloud Ruler but we didn’t see much of it as we made our way into the main hall. Of the several changes to the fortress the more disturbing one was the construction that had taken up a large portion of the hall near the enchanted fireplace. Made from obsidian, malachite and ebony it was hard not to feel disgust and unease when looking upon the curving spines rising from the floor. They were the questing fingers of daedric influence on the world, and a sight that Viconia and I had seen all too much of despite their size.Where the previous Oblivion gates had ripped their way into Nirn and grown the strange formations of blasted stones as a product of their unnatural births, this one had been built by the hands of some of the most knowledgeable mages in the world. Between Martin and the others, they had painstakingly crafted a smaller collection of spines and energy fusing stone and ore within the heart of Cloud Ruler until all that was left was the burning rift in its heart.The mood was sombre as we entered, and it didn’t surprise me to see that I wasn’t the only one fully dressed in armour. Over a dozen Blades were present in their full combat attire, and Jauffre too was clad in the Akaviri splint mail with a Daikatana strapped to his spine. As for the others there was a significant number of robed figures within the room, their presences somehow hazy and pulsating with unnatural energies as their enchanted clothes and sheer magical prowess affected the world around them. The now-familiar faces of the leaders of the various guilds, houses and universities of magical studies were already in their own positions, awaiting my arrival to begin.Martin was also there, standing near the blasted collection of hateful stone looking uneasy at what was to happen. There was confidence in his eyes, but there was no doubting that none of us were truly accepting or pleased with the steps that we had to take.“We have everything in place for the ritual.” He said, seeing the collection of nods from the others arrayed around the room and gesturing to a position near the centre of the hall for myself. “I’ll open the portal whenever you are ready.”“I am ready.”“You’re a brave man Master Desin.” Hannibal Traven called out. Like his counterparts from House Telvanni and the College of Winterhold, he was standing near the other items required for the ritual, arrayed around the dormant portal in a Y shape.There were three items placed on top of rune engraved pedestals and I couldn’t help but feel uneasy with their presence. The first was straightforward enough despite its size, a great gleaming gem half the size of my torso that was sparkling with ethereal lights. In our travels Viconia and I had seen dozens of similar stones of much smaller size and lesser quality but it was difficult not to recognise a Welkynd stone when I saw one. I had heard how the Blades had managed to retrieve it from the depths of the largest Ayleid ruin in all of Cyrodiil and knew that several lives had been lost in the attempt.The second was also as unmistakable, and like the Great Welkynd Stone was larger and more impressive than its lesser brethren. Taken from Dagon’s Shrine after I had killed the Mythic Dawn cultists was one of three Great Sigil Stones, the rune burning with latent energies almost pleading to be released. It was a possible brother to the stone that had opened the giant gate outside Kvatch and closed before Viconia and I had reached the destroyed city, but for the moment at least it was waiting to be put to use.As for the third, it was strangely mundane and yet even more unique than the other two artefacts. It had taken months of searching, excavating and even fighting against undead to uncover, but the gleaming muscle cuirass was strangely even more powerful than the other two stones. It was ancient, hundreds of years old and yet the silverly steel was in perfect condition, somehow fitting for armour that had last been worn by a man who would ascend into godhood.With the Great Sigil and Welkynd Stones joined with the armour of Tiber Septim there was a faint charge of energy within the room that was hard to discern. Each of the artefacts were being watched over by the three greatest wizards and mages, Hannibal Traven standing near the cuirass, Brylfinna Mojanerson at the Welkynd Stone, and Benllin Redor beside the Sigil Stone, leaving Martin and Tar-Meena with the Mysterium Xarxes closest to the portal itself.“I don’t know what you will find in Camoran’s Paradise.” Martin said, raising his voice for me to hear him from my position between the two magical stones and on the opposite side to the cuirass. “I do know the portal we create here will close behind you.”My unease was impossible to keep hidden and I gave the ex-priest an exasperated look even as I continued rolling my shoulders and limbering up for what I expected to be a fight.Tar-Meena especially noticed my expression, and that of Viconia’s that appeared to threaten bodily harm to all present at such an announcement, coughing politely as Martin continued preparing the hideous tome. “I believe that Mankar Camoran acts as the ‘anchor’ for his Paradise, just as a sigil stone anchors an Oblivion Gate in place. Kill Mankar Camoran, and you will unmake his Paradise and return.”Blowing out a massive pent up breath and trying to ignore the disquieted voice in the back of my mind, and especially trying to ignore Viconia’s expression I stared straight ahead at the dormant portal. “Let’s do this.”Nodding to the mages, Martin stepped closer to the book that seemed to squirming of its own accord on its pedestal, ignoring the way that heavy lead weights had been placed on the corners to keep the pages flat and open. He and Tar-Meena were standing side by side, and with one last look in my direction they began to read.The un-words seemed to buckle reality and I remembered all too well how Camoran had escaped in Dagon’s Shrine by uttering a similar incantation. It had quite literally ripped a wound in reality but where he figuratively had the key to such a domain, we were effectively knocking in a wall with a battering ram. Within the first phrases spoken out loud by the last of the Septims and the Argonian scholar the others had also begun their own roles without hesitation.The three mages, from the head of the Mages guild to the Arch-Mage of Winterhold immediately began channelling their own magicka into the items before them. I could feel the surging, crackling powers they were unleashing and despite the sensations I knew that they were effectively drip feeding the energy into and through the artefacts in a precisely controlled manner. This was no overwhelming bolt of magicka like that Viconia used to kill in battle, but a conducted orchestra beyond the norm of mortals.Even as I stood there I could feel the changes. The temperature dropped so suddenly that everyone’s breaths fumed and icicles grew from the ceiling, right before a hot dry wind blew in from nowhere and stripped the chill away. I could taste sulphur, copper, mead and moonsugar; a riot of sensations that made me feel as though my mind was being stripped from my body with every moment. But despite it all it was working, the trio of artefacts glowing and surging their energy into the heart of their formation, fusing with the handmade obsidian spires and swirling around like a maelstrom in the depths of the oceans.Flicking embers were sucked from the enchanted fireplace, drawing themselves across the room in a shower of glimmering lights as the candles and torches were also leeched away. Piece by piece the centre of the portal begun to shimmer and glow like the desert in the middle of the day, puckering and twisting before bursting into flames that boiled and spat.It was a sight that I had only seen a handful of times, but was more than enough to forever be imprinted into my memory. An Oblivion Portal, a burning, hateful hole in reality itself that forced itself into existence, ripping apart time and space in its birth throes but unlike the others, with the exception of Mankar’s escape portal this one was small. Barely larger than myself, it was a burning hole promising destruction and devastation.“We only have one chance at this!” Martin shouted over the crackling roar of the portal birthing itself into our world. “Use the portal! Bring back the amulet of Kings!”The Blades within the room had dropped into fighting stances and were watching the portal carefully, ready in case anything used this brief moment to exit the hellish realm on the other side. Sweating and concentrating the mages continued pouring their willpower and magicka into their artefacts in front of them, keeping the portal open as it stabilised itself.Viconia’s expression was cold and emotionless but her eyes burned into mine as I turned and looked at her for the briefest of moments. “Don’t make me come in there after you.” she snarled for a moment, her words and tone harsh but I could sense the concern hidden deep within it all.With a grin of confidence that I didn’t feel I gave one last look to all of those within the room, drawing Sunchild before jogging and leaping through the portal.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Stepping through the Oblivion portal as I had those other times before I was steeling myself for what awaited me on the other side. The memories of obsidian towers of bloodied spines framed in skies of fire were all too familiar, having haunted my dreams since the fateful day at Kvatch. I couldn’t help but remember the sensation of choking from the heat, feeling the way that the lava and air itself burned my flesh and how every breath was little more than the taste and smell of sulphur.It came as even more of a surprise when I reappeared through the makeshift portal to find myself faced with a rolling forest and gardens stretching off into the distance. No sulphur or brimstone immediately assaulted my nose or made my eyes water and instead I found myself almost choking on the unexpected scents of flowers in bloom, of the approach of gentle spring rains and all the beauty that nature could provide.Paths led through the vegetation, between the perfectly maintained gardens packed with flowers, in and around trees of all varieties with their canopies lush and full of life. Birdsong echoed from all around, and the breeze was warm and comforting as it trailed through my cloak and outer clothes. With my enhanced senses I could sense and feel everything around me in its overwhelming array of sights, sounds and smells and yet the vampire within me was growling.It wasn’t too hard to feel unnerved. Entering Oblivion was not meant to be like this and yet here I was; surrounded in a literal verdant ‘paradise’ and I couldn’t help but scoff at the literal translation of the realm I found myself in.“So, the cat’s-paw of the Septims arrives at last.” Crawled a voice into my ear and I twisted sharply around, Sunchild tight in my fist as I sought out its source. “You didn’t think you could take me unawares, here of all places? In the ‘Paradise’ that I created?”The tone was mocking and yet disappointed, the sheer level of power within it humming through every word and yet I couldn’t see or sense any sign of life or the owner of the voice.“Camoran.” I hissed, failing to see anything nearby in the tiny glade I was standing in.If the unseen speaker heard my words or not I was uncertain, but the voice continued, the words sliding into my mind as I quickly realised that I wasn’t really hearing them at all.“Look now,” It continued, the words twisting and writhing their way directly into my mind despite my best efforts to shut them out. “upon my Paradise; Gaiar Alata, in the old tongue. A vision of the past… and the future.”Glancing around me I saw the traces of white within the green, of ancient marble that was somehow brand new but older than time itself. There were buildings scattered about the forest, some tiny and half consumed by the very ground itself, others rising up into the tree line.“I suppose it’s nice if you like that sort of thing.” My muted mutterings were one of the loudest sounds I could hear beyond the wind caressing its way through the foliage, seeing the all too familiar design of the marble nearby. I had seen it in Nonungalo, Nornalhorst, Garlas Malatar and the Imperial City, and there was no mistaking the Ayleid make despite its inconsistent age.The glade that I had appeared within was lined with a handful of stones, no larger than cobblestones built into Tamriel’s roads and highways but on one end there was a slight rise with a path leading up to its peak. It was not much of a hill in all honesty but it was in line with the height of the trees, offering a temptation of views that I couldn’t refuse. Slowly I made my way up to the top of the hill, wary for ambush and entirely unnerved at the appearance of the Oblivion Realm I had found myself in but growing curious at how such a place could exist.While nothing spectacular like the sights available from Cloud Ruler’s battlements, the tiny rise and gap in the trees did allow me to see that there was no doubt in the artificial nature of such a world. Even beyond the abilities of my vampiric sight I could see nothing but an endless forest, a forest that hurt my brain to understand the scale or even comprehend. Somehow it seemed to twist and buckle in on itself, the dimensions and the simple laws of reality on Nirn that I had taken for granted having been stripped and defiled in the creation of such a place. Somehow I instinctively knew that despite the fact how this plane of existence stretched on beyond the grip of time, that if I just started running I would find myself returning to this very spot from the opposite direction in an hour or so.Despite the way how Camoran’s Paradise existed everywhere and nowhere it was impossible not to notice the giant construction within the heart of it all. It towered over all, a sibling to the giant White-Gold Tower in the Imperial City that dwarfed the surrounding forest like a giant standing amongst trimmed grass. Somehow the very nature of the tower made my guts churn, as though the design and make of such a monument was even more unnatural than the realm that I was standing within.“Behold the Savage Garden, where my disciples are tempered for a higher destiny: to rule over Tamriel Reborn.” Camoran’s voice spoke into my mind as I looked over the spiralling design of his Paradise. In a mockery of the Imperial City I could see roads of flawless marble leading out from the tower like the spokes of a wheel, and in the place of the countless buildings and structures of the Imperial City were enormous gardens of flowers and trees and walls of giant oaks. “If you are truly the hero of destiny, as I hope, the Garden will not hold you for long. Lift your eyes to Carac Agaialor, my seat at the pinnacle of Paradise. I shall await you there.”“That’s not foreboding at all.” The vampire hadn’t been silent since I had entered Oblivion and I knew it was more than just from the unnaturally prefect realm that I had found myself in. I knew that several years on Vvardenfell facing Corpus creatures and other vile monsters had left me with a healthy amount of cynicism but even so, this Paradise was too perfect.Even before I started down the marbled roads I knew that my appearance in the glade and near the hill was not by design of Martin and the others. This was a realm fashioned from the mind of a single being, a being who had absolute power to shape it from his desires. Coupled with the fact that his voice was entering my mind within minutes of arriving in such a world left me with no illusions that he had purposely ensured that I had entered on the edge of his forested realm.There was also no doubting the beauty as I made my way through the forest. It was a vision of the purity of nature, of how the great forest of County Chorrol had one held sway throughout the heartlands of Cyrodiil during the birth days of the Ayleids. I couldn’t help but grin as I strode through it though, as the maker’s intent to recreate Tamriel having birthed such a realm was not having too much effect on me. I appreciated the wilds, but the past years’ worth of experiences against reincarnated Ayleids and the number of times I had been inside ruins of their civilisation had marred my opinions somewhat.The closer I got to what Camoran had described as the ‘Savage Garden’ the more the vampire was straining to be released. I could feel the shifting within my flesh, the tingling of cheekbones and teeth and the increasing pressure as I kept it at bay with willpower alone. It certainly wasn’t being helped that I sympathised with my darker nature at how surreal such an environment was as I approached the towering wall of oaks passing as the curtain wall.Their trunks were too wide for even a squad of legionaries to wrap their arms around, and somehow they had been grown perfectly alongside each other with roots and trunks intertwined. From the ground to their branches they were fused together in an enormous ring around the tower and the garden inside and my brief estimates left me feeling that the dimensions of such a structure mirrored that of the City it copied. Each of the trees were dozens of metres tall and their upper branches weaved together to form battlements and towers, but there was an entrance within the wooden defences, a tall archway rising high above my head.Sunchild hadn’t left my grasp since I had been standing in Cloud Ruler watching the birth of the Oblivion Portal and my grip tightened as I stepped into the darkness of the vegetated arch. The birdsong had vanished from the edges of my hearing as I had approached, the silence matching the unnatural nature of the daedric realm I was within but it was slowly being replaced. I could hear things on the wind, humanoid voices and unmistakable pain echoing like afterthoughts from within.I sensed the lifeforce before I saw them, feeling the call of blood as the shimmering sensation appeared in my mind as I drew closer to the interior of the curtain walls. It was moving fast, a blur of sensation moving towards me and as I readied myself I felt the surge of adrenaline begin to flow.Of all the beings and creatures, I had been expecting to face on such an endeavour I was again surprised at the sudden appearance of a young Nordic man dressed in flowing maroon robes. My initial instincts to defend myself were lessened by the fact that he was well over fifty metres away when he burst into view, and that while he was sprinting as hard and as fast as he could that he certainly wasn’t attacking. The smell of fear from him was overpowering, a terror infusing him limbs with strength and agility as he pounded his feet into the marble cobbles in desperation.The source of his terror wasn’t far behind, and strangely enough I felt relief as the red-black creature ripped free of the tree line and stormed after its fleeing prey without hesitation. This was a creature that held no true fear in my heart, a being that I had killed a score of at Kvatch and Anvil and a being whose blood I shared a link with. Its face was a snarl of rage and amusement, the stubby horns and twisted features the only true flesh that could be seen outside of the rippling daedric armour it wore and without any hesitation the possessed axe it wielded was flung into the fleeing man’s back.Tumbling end over end, the axe buried itself into the robed man with a thump, pitching him forward onto the road but there was no sound from him. The daedric weapon was buried deep into spine and lungs, ripping the breath from him as effectively as it left him paralysed and dying. As for the Dremora it reacted as I had seen the others of its kind in similar situations; it roared with pleasure, rushing over to the dying man and savaging him without hesitation.Gore and flesh sprayed and splattered the peerless marble and I found myself watching in shock as it dug its claws hands into the wound and peeled the ribcage apart like the robed man was nothing more than a loaf of bread. Within seconds the dremora’s victim was little more than chunks of raw meat and gore as it literally tore him apart in a frenzy, stopping only when it realised that it was not alone.“Churl…” A maw of dagger fangs was revealed as its lips peeled apart in a savage grin. There was a gleeful appearance to the creature even with the gore that was dripping down its twisted features.Ripping the axe from a chunk of torso the daedra rushed me without pause or hesitation. Its daedric boots were slamming into the ground with incredible force, moving faster than any human could and I couldn’t help but identify it as a Kynmarcher. It was a lord of Dremora, a commander and more powerful than most of its kind but I was strangely without concern, after all I had bested several of its kind before and had drunk the blood of a Markynaz.The armour however was more of a challenge as it rushed me and I met it with Sunchild grasped in a steady hand. Moaning through the air, its daedric weapon with the bound soul-essence within rushed past my face as I twisted out of the way and I slashed at the dremora’s face. Foul, black ichor splattered into the bloodstained road and like the rest of its kind it showed no pain from such an injury, throwing itself at me without slowing.All rage and burning bloodlust, the creature didn’t realise that it had already lost until its weapon fell from nerveless fingers. While offering protection beyond that of any mortal make, the daedric armour still had to abide by similar rules as mortal protection. The thick plates of unnatural metal had gaps in the joints, thinner portions where tanned skin was all that remained between its body and my weapon. In a handful of movements, I stabbed into its weapon arm, ruining the elbow with the tip of Sunchild before twisting out of the way and stabbing once more. Already stained with daedric ichor, Sunchild punched deep into its flesh where the armoured gorget met its throat, spearing down into its torso and cutting its heart in two.A second of confusion entered its evil visage, the sharpened teeth grinding together as it clasped at the wound in its throat with its remaining hand, staggering towards me for a pair of shaking steps and collapsing face first. It felt strange that such a creature appeared to be of little threat to me, but just seemed to reveal how far I had come in the months since the destruction of Kvatch.As the daedra bled out on the ground I found my eyes being drawn to the hacked apart remains of its victim covering a large portion of ground nearby. The blood stained the stones and foliage and pieces of meat and bone were scattered about but as I watched the body was disappearing. Drying and flaking away, the blood vanished within moments, the flesh began to dissolve and wash into the ground as though being swept away by rain and within the space of a minute there was no sign that man had ever existed.“How little you understand.” Returned Camoran’s voice and I gritted my teeth in annoyance, looking back to see that the daedra’s corpse was still very much where it had fallen and flicking the majority of gore off my Blade. “You cannot stop Lord Dagon.”“Maybe not.” I replied, uncertain whether the cult leader could even hear my words as I turned and continued on along the path. “But I’m pretty sure I can stop you.”There was no sign of him beyond the words in my mind and as distracting as they were I could feel my vampirism rising to supress it. Entering the Gardens filled my senses with the sights and sounds of dozens, if not hundreds of beings all around and the unmistakable signs of fighting and death could not be ignored.Daedric monstrosities prowled through the tranquillity of the gardens, hunting and searching and killing all that they could find. I could see and sense them all around, and the frantic heartbeats of those that they were seeking out. Dressed in the similar maroon robes of the first victim I had encountered there were men and women of all races fleeing, hiding and cowering from the creatures that sought them out.“The Principalities have sparkled as gems in the black reaches of Oblivion since the First Morning.” I rushed forward and tried to ignore the horrifying screaming of a woman as she was being ripped limb from limb by a pack of Clannfear, the daedric lizards feasting on her even as she died. No matter what I did I couldn’t get the voice in my skull and it wasn’t helping me ignore the carnage all around. “Many are their names and the names of their masters: The Coldharbour of Meridia, Peryite's Quagmire, the ten Moonshadows of Mephala, and... and Dawn's Beauty, the Princedom of Lorkhan... misnamed 'Tamriel' by deluded mortals.”A shrieking dunmer rushed out of the trees, pursued by a pair of giant daedroth that rampaged through the vegetation. His attempts to use the trees to slow them down was in vain as they simply smashed them into pieces or uprooted them as easily as I would a sapling, following him deeper into the forest and seemingly oblivious to my presence.“I’m no cultist,” I muttered under my breath, my eyes roaming about and wary of any sudden attack from the numerous daedra infesting the area. “but I’m quite sure that Coldharbour is Molag Bal’s realm.”Bodies were strung up in the trees, the signs of their attackers non-existent as they too dissolved before my eyes. I found myself jogging, my speed increasing as the fates of all of those within the garden became more and more horrific. What was worse was that I soon realised what was truly happening when I saw what appeared to be a doppelganger of the first man I saw, rushing forward screaming for help before he was set alight by a pack of scamps. After cutting down the stunted beings with ease I realised that that the true horror of this realm wasn’t the death and carnage, but that all the men and women I had been seeing were being reincarnated every time they died. Each and every one of them were trapped in this eternal nightmare, doomed to be killed and tortured by daedra in a realm that mockingly resembled the perfect world.All through my path Mankar Camoran continued to talk directly into my mind, his voice somehow annoying and soothing at the same time. It was strange and highly concerning that another being could project himself into my very consciousness but it was serving a useful distraction to the scenes playing out around me. I saw men and women killed in dozens of ways that had only existed in the darkest depths of my nightmares. I witnessed them die again and again, each death excruciatingly painful and most times drawn out beyond anything I could’ve considered possible regarding human endurance and still Camoran continued.“Ask yourself! How is it that mighty gods die, yet the Daedra stand incorruptible? How is it that the Daedra forthrightly proclaim themselves to man, while the gods cower behind statues and the faithless words of traitor-priests? It is simple... they are not gods at all.”A daedroth died as its tiny brain noticed me and without hesitation I cut it down, my vampirism allowing me to dodge its clumsy attacks and climb up its mountainous torso. An eye exploded into gore and jelly as Sunchild bit deep, but I was already moving before it had finished collapsing to the ground.“The truth has been in front of you since you first were born: The Daedra are the true gods of this universe. Julianos, Dibella and Stendarr are all Lorkhan's betrayers, posing as divinities in a principality that has lost its guiding light. What are Scholarship, Love and Mercy when compared to Fate, Night and Destruction? The gods you worship are trifling shadows of First Causes. They have tricked you for Ages.”Ducking past the wild swings of the gaunt figure of a Vermai, I felt its wheezing breath on my face as I chopping a leg out from under it. The giant, spindly-limbed being had managed to run me down even despite my vampirism but even the daedroths appeared to be more cunning and intelligent than this cloven hoofed daedra. There were no eyes to speak of on its egg-shaped head, but the maw of ravenous teeth was snapping and gnashing even as hacked through its neck with a spray of foul smelling gore.“Why do you think your world has always been contested ground, the arena of powers and immortals? It is Tamriel, the realm of Change, brother to Madness, sister to Deceit. Your false gods could not entirely rewrite history. Thus you remember tales of Lorkhan, vilified, a dead trickster, whose heart came to Tamriel. But if a god can die, how does his heart survive?More and more of the maroon robed beings were moving towards me as I cut down the daedra in my path, my success against their tormentors drawing them towards me like moths to a flame. Unfortunately, their attempts to gain some measure of liberation from their suffering only served to draw more and more daedra in turn, filling the gardens and pathways with the roars, cackles, howls and bellows as I was attacked from all sides.“He is daedroth!”A trio of Dremora charged forward, two with spears still glistening with the gore of their impaled victims, a third with a sword screaming with an entrapped soul’s torment. The first died as quickly as Sunchild punched through an eye, the second was pulled off its feet as I yanked hard on its spear as I used its momentum and weapon to impale the third.“TAMRIEL AE DAEDROTH!”Growling with more rage than pain, the impaled daedra was kicked away as I wrenched on its arm hard enough that its wrist was twisted a full 180 degrees. In that moment it was disarmed, its keening blade slamming into the side of the spear wielding Dremora’s head with an audible thokk which dropped like a sack of potatoes.“This Heart is the heart of the world, for one was made to satisfy the other.”Several of the robed figures were tossed through the air in sprays of crimson as another daedroth stomped through the press, ripping and tearing with the strength that allowed its kind to be used as siege beasts. It killed indiscriminately, its reptilian brain focussed entirely on me and slaughtering only those too slow to get out of its way. Growling and writhing with the head of the spear in its guts, the Dremora laying on its back tried to wriggle from the giant reptile’s path but was crushed under the monster’s bulk as it strode over it.“You all remember this.”One moment the giant beast was charging without pause, rushing onwards with all the power of an avalanche and the next it seemed to trip and die. I could feel my blood racing through my veins now, the strength of the vampire infusing every muscle of my body with power and somewhere in the back of my mind I registered how my talons were wrapped firmly around Sunchild’s hilt as I stabbed it through the roof of the creature’s mouth.“It is in every legend.”A pair of Vermai, tall giants of overextended limbs and featureless mouths galloped through the carnage on their powerful cloven hoofed legs and their arms extended to snatch me from the ground. The first I caught by a questing arm, the pair of twitching digits and stubby talons being crushed in my grasp as I dragged it down. The vampire was almost fully unleashed now and the daedra was screaming through its lipless mouth as I ripped an arm from its socket and brained its pack mate the death with the limb.“Daedra cannot die,”Bone and gristle crunched in such a way that it was almost felt more than heard as I kicked the shrieking, armless Vermai in the head, spraying its blood and shattered skull everywhere. There were more daedra coming, more Dremora and even an Xivilai but roaring through a mouthful of fangs I threw myself at them, feeling the solid impacts up my arm as Sunchild began cutting them down.“So your so-called gods cannot erase him from your minds completely!”Corpses were scattered across the roadway, several deep in places as their daedric essences begun slowly leeching away as they returned to their true master’s realm to regenerate. I had lost count how many I had killed with Camoran’s mocking sermon echoing through my mind but finally it fell quiet in the Savage Gardens of his so-called Paradise. My arm felt leaden and weighed down by Sunchild and the gore that coated me to the elbow, and all I could taste was the cancerous, sulphurous taint of daedric blood that was dripping down my face. For the moment there was no more threats still left standing, and all that was nearby was a handful of surviving robed figures who were keeping their distance from me and the remains of the melee I had won.“Well done, champion! Your progress is swift and sure. Perhaps you will reach me after all. You think I mock you? Not at all. In your coming, I hear the footsteps of Fate. You are the last defender of decadent Tamriel. I am the midwife of the Mythic Dawn, Tamriel Reborn. I welcome you, if you truly are the agent of Fate. I tire of the self-styled heroes who set themselves in my path, only to prove unworthy in the event.”“I tire of your damned voice in my mind.” Several of the robed survivors shied away as I growled, looking over them all and seeing the faint golden symbols of a sun rising over the horizon across their robes. There were only a dozen or so remaining of the men and women still ‘alive’ but they were gazing upon me with a mixture of fear and awe, but I could no longer ignore the obvious fact that their robes provided. They, and all the others trapped within this infernal realm were all wearing the clothes and markings of the Mythic Dawn.There were no cries of joy or exclamations of relief from any of them and they all stood silently for the most part. Some were already trying their best to retrieve weapons of their fallen tormentors, others were already attempting to use this opportunity to try to find somewhere to hide within the rolling forest. None of them attempted to stop or hinder me in any way as I continued on my path, the vampire guiding me on now with powerful will.My goal seemed within arm’s reach now, the enormous stone edifice fashioned as a sibling to White-Gold looming overhead. It was blotting out the sky, spearing into the artificial heavens with its constructed authority but I continued on without any effect upon my soul. The darkness was rising up further now and the vampire was straining at the leash, especially after the bloodshed of the daedra having given it a taste of what it truly desired. It was certainly not being helped by the fact that two individuals were waiting at the base of the stairs rising towards the tower’s entrance, a pair who seemed utterly immune to the attentions and machinations of the roaming daedra within the forest of torment.While dressed in similar robes to the dozens of damned cultists at my back, these two were dressed in finery. Their robes were unmarred by blood or wear, gold filigree woven throughout and their rising sun iconography gleaming with richness. They were watching my progress with an air of boredom infusing their every action, one of them audibly sighing as I finally closed the distance between us.“So, here you are at last. The lackey of the Septim pretender.”I could feel my lips peel back almost of their own accord and I struggled to keep the vampire within the depths of my soul. The smell and feel of blood, especially daedric blood all over my body was dragging on its instincts even more than the presence of potential foes.“I would’ve come earlier but it appears that there was some conflict over my reservation.”Both of the individuals twitched with annoyance at my mocking tone, but neither made any hostile movements or actions. Instead they both stood still, sharing a glance between each other and glaring at me. Both were tugging on my sense of familiarity, which was only strengthened further when they pulled their hoods back.“You still think you have a chance, don’t you.” Said the first; a young appearing Altmer with a permanent scowl affixed to his face and his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. “You think you can stop us? You have no grasp of the power that our father has at his command?”“Our father?” There was a faint familiarity to the male Altmer, but my brief glimpses of Mankar Camoran within the Mythic Dawn’s shrine had not been enough to remember clearly.“Yes, our father.” The second Altmer spoke, her words and voice stirring more familiarity that I was struggling to place. “He expected you hours ago.”Looking between the two of other, and seeing the familial bonds that they shared I felt my curiosity get the better of me. “Have we met?”“Briefly.” Snarled the male, staring daggers at me as he folded his arms. “You killed me.”“Us.” Corrected the female.“I’ll be honest; I have killed a lot of people recently. Especially those wearing clothes like yours.” The way that the gore streaked tip of Sunchild waved in their direction didn’t seem to faze them, neither did the way that I was not making any motions to sheath it anytime soon.“The Undercity of the Imperial Capital. You and your wretched companions sought to steal the last of my father’s Commentaries.”A memory of a fight in the dark, of rushing to Baurus’ aid and attacking the daedric plated form of the Sponsor came to mind and I could feel the vague recognition of the being I had stabbed in the heart. “Ah. Then that would make you Raven Camoran.”The scowl on his face was more than enough to confirm my suspicion and I turned my attention to the other, looking her up and down. “And you’re Ruma.”“The pretender’s spy network seems at least passably efficient.” She snarled, rolling her eyes and sharing amusement with her brother. “It took them long enough.”“Well, they managed to get me here of all places.” My sense of familiarity was growing stronger with Ruma and I suddenly realised how and why. Of all the people I had killed within the Mythic Dawn there was one death that seemed to play in my nightmares more than others; a young Altmer woman screaming and gurgling after I had bitten her face away.Her irritation was building and there was no sign of fear or trepidation from either of them. They had both faced death and stood before me as proof of their father’s power and blessings from Mehrunes Dagon. I was in their home territory, almost literally within the heart of their power and that of their father’s and yet I didn’t feel cowed or fearful. The vampire was still thundering through my veins and drowning out anything but the sense of annoyance and impatience.“Our father is waiting to welcome you at Carac Agaialor.” Raven muttered, gesturing to the enormous marble doors that yawned open at the top of the rise of stairs. The tower truly was a match to White-Gold in size and majesty but it somehow felt hollow and pale in comparison.“I bet he is.” With a jingle of metal on metal I made a gesture to my blood splattered armour and collection of weapons that were still affixed to my person. “I’m afraid that I’m no longer dressed for the occasion.”“You may keep your weapons; they are of no consequence. Soon Mehrunes Dagon will walk upon Tamriel for the first time since the Mythic Age and our victory will be complete. Your actions here will not change that fact.”“Well then. I suppose I better not keep him waiting anymore.” Sunchild slithered back into its sheath after I wiped the last of the blood off on one of the few clean patches of my clothes and armour.Raven turned without hesitation, showing no fear of putting his back to me but Ruma continued staring her undying hatred at me.“Ladies first.” My theatrical gesture was not in the slightest polite but all it did was deepen her scowl.“Don’t think for a moment I am afraid of you.”“Of course.” The rising hunger of the vampire was impossible to resist and twitched forward, biting the air with my lengthened incisors and teeth making a loud clicking noise. The noise and my sudden movement was enough to startle her and it was difficult not to savour the true signs of fear in her eyes as she flinched away.Grinning through a mouthful of fangs I gave her a wink as all the blood drained from her features, before turning and following her brother up the stairs.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Having never been within White-Gold myself, my knowledge of the interior of one of the largest buildings in the world was limited to that which I had been told or read about. I knew that the base level was the chambers of the Elder Council, a giant circular expanse occupying the lower three stories of tiered seating that allowed the rulers of the Empire to convene. It was capable of holding hundreds of people at a time, allowing all to congregate and pass laws and motions that affected every soul within the Empire but it was also only a tiny part of the tower overall. The higher levels were the home of the Emperor and his family, apartments of the highest Imperial officials and on top of them and occupying the highest portion of the tower was the library of the Elder Scrolls themselves.There could never be a true count of the Elder Scrolls contained within White Gold, their very natures making it impossible to ascertain. The constantly shifting nature of such fragments of creation and their refusal to adhere to the laws of the physical world ensured that there were thousands and yet none there at any given moment.Upon entering Mankar Camoran’s sanctum I was immediately struck with this thought and sensations; the feeling that everything existed and yet didn’t at the same time. Carac Agaialor may have appeared to be a copy of White-Gold from the outside, but within moments of entering I found myself in a long hall that appeared both Ayleid in nature, and yet inspired by any grand hall of the Cyrodiilic counts. There was however no trappings of wealth or influence that I had come to expect, no banners or symbols of power and might. If anything the hall appeared to be bland and featureless, and lacking ornamentation or detail entirely.This did achieve what I soon considered to be its intended purpose as I followed in the footsteps of Camoran’s son with his daughter keeping a healthy distance behind. The lack of details ensured that the occupied throne at the very end of the hall drew the attention and kept it immediately.Like my interactions with his children, my familiarity with Mankar Camoran had been brief and limited but enough to recognise him. It was impossible not to see the blood that linked him and his children as we entered the hall, the same bone structure, the same facial features that they shared and the same aloof, confident attitude.It didn’t stop me from feeling like a fly walking willingly into the spider’s web as I entered, striding down the long hall towards the leader of the Mythic Dawn. He watched my every move with a look of bored aloofness, only removing his gaze from me for a moment to meet those of his children as I reached the wide flat stairs leading to the base of his throne."I have waited a long time for you, Champion of Old Tamriel.” He said, his voice rolling over me and echoing through the hall.Out of the corner of my eyes I saw his children move to either side of me the very moment I made to move closer to their father. Both were glaring at me, but remained silent as Mankar rose to his feet.“I would have been here sooner, but recent events have kept me busy.”The corner of his mouth creased in amusement, and without my vampirism I wouldn’t have heard the mild intake of breath from Ruma Camoran at the sarcasm infecting my voice. Mankar seemed to expect this sort of response, the grim half smile remaining as he made a vague gesture towards me.“As I can see. It is obvious that my Garden didn’t slow you for too long. You ought to be commended.” Slowly he made his way from his enormous throne, moving towards me with all the nobility of a lord or being used to wielding utter authority.I remained silent, uncertain of what I could say to such a statement but I was preoccupied with feeling the stickiness and how my armour and clothes were growing tacky as the blood soaked through and began gluing to my skin. It was a welcome distraction to the unreality that I was surrounded by and Mankar’s presence was growing into an ever more potent buzzing in the back of my mind. The two of us were the only two ‘real’ entities in the entire fabricated realm, but it was his will that had given birth to such a place and as such it was painful to be near him.There must have been something in my expression that he chose to identify as confusion and the half smile remained on his face as he came closer. “Even now,” he drawled, making a vague motion in my direction “standing here before me, it is amazing just how little you understand.”I couldn’t help but spare a glance either side of me to see the pair of wary, hate filled expressions of Mankar’s children as they watched my every move. “There’s a lot that I don’t understand, but that sounds like you are meaning something specific.”“You hold your tongue!” Snapped Ruma, snarling and threatening to move forward to strike me.Silencing her with little more than another gesture, I could feel the surge of energy flow through me from the merest flicker of Mankar’s will. It was obvious that it wasn’t intended for me but it did leave me curious why he had to use his magicka and control over his pocket dimension in such a way. “It is quite alright my dear, we must excuse our guest’s lack of manners and decorum.”Whatever other words she had remaining were for the moment stilled but her burning expression did not fade in the slightest, nor did her gaze waver for more than a heartbeat.“The tenacity of the Blades and the Pretender is to be lauded. The fact that they have managed to send you here to my home is nothing short of miraculous. What lengths must they have gone to beach the barriers between worlds? It amuses me that it is ultimately for nothing.”“I wouldn’t say that.” His attention and that of his children was fully upon me as I shrugged and gestured to the way that I was covered in the blood and gore of humans and daedra alike. “I have made it this far and so far I can honestly say that I have been through and experienced far worse than this recently.”“The paltry few you have slain were not for you.” There was a hint of arrogance and annoyance in his tone and yet he didn’t seem to show it. “They were merely gifted servants from my Lord for my service.”“Then I don’t know which of the two of you got the worst end of that bargain.” More to prod at his children’s rising annoyance than Mankar’s, I made a show of flicking the half congealed blood off my hands and arms onto the floor, staining it with red-black droplets of daedric ichor. “Then again, judging by the quality of your so-called cultists that I’ve had the displeasure of encountering I shouldn’t be surprised if Dagon sent you the weaker of his daedra.”If Raven was a kettle, he would have almost boiled himself dry judging by the way that his face reddened and his sister wasn’t too much different. A creeping flush of emotion made itself visible under Mankar’s collar and high necked robes but he was showing that he had far more control over his emotions than his children at least. “Just what do you think you will gain from antagonising us? Do you really think that you can stop Lord Dagon?”I shrugged and couldn’t help but chuckle honestly. “Making you lot angry makes me feel better for all the crap you have put me through. I do have to say thanks though because if not for your actions I would most likely be dead or still locked up in the Imperial Prison but you can keep the rest of it.” his question was caught in his throat as I gestured to Mankar standing in all of his finery. “I don’t ‘think’ that I can stop Mehrunes Dagon, I know that I can’t. I have had more than enough experience with demi-gods and the like to know that there is nothing I can personally do to stop Tamriel being invaded.”“You are more right than you know.” The shift away from anger and insult to pleasure was as jarring as it was sudden and I couldn’t help but feel a chunk of ice solidify itself into my guts at the change in the three of them. “You cannot stop the invasion because it has already begun. I should congratulate you and the Blades in your successes in dismantling the Mythic Dawn but it was quite impossible for you to catch all of the faithful. When I said that I have been waiting a long time for you, I was not just saying that in jest. The plans were made and the preparations completed a long time ago. All that we were waiting for was for the pretender to waste the one opportunity he had to retrieve the Amulet of Kings and now that he has done so the time has come for Dagon’s army to enter Tamriel.”The chunk of ice in my stomach infected my spine and I somehow knew that he wasn’t lying. Especially the reactions of his children who had begun to chuckle sickeningly.“An army unlike anything seen before is now marching into Tamriel, hundreds of thousands strong. My Lord is a fan of grand gestures and despite my attempts he had decided in his wisdom that his army will make an example before the invasion proper.”“Bruma.”There was surprise in all their expressions as I spoke the city out loud, and Mankar studied me for a moment, appearing to determine whether it was a lucky guess or not.“Indeed.”“The Empire isn’t just going to sit back and watch. They will fight.”“Oh, I never suggested that it would not be without struggle. After all, it is in the conflict and the tempering that the strongest claim their authority over the weak. However, when the strong are undeniably so and number in the tens of thousands there is nothing the weak can truly do.”“The Legion…”“Ah yes, the vaunted Legion of the Septims,” He interrupted, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “is no match for Lord Dagon’s forces. Even if every legionary was arrayed before the walls of Bruma they would be outnumbered three to one. But they aren’t. Those who haven’t already retreated like whipped dogs to the Imperial Capital are scattered throughout the bounds of the Empire, waylaid by insurrection and the countless war bands of Lord Dagon. For months now the rifts have been allowing passage into Tamriel, and with each the number of daedra have increased tenfold. The Empire is a dying beast, but is too blind and demented to truly understand when death is at hand.”I tried my best to see falsehood or lies but his mannerisms said far too much. every word he spoke was the truth, which meant that the war that we all had been dreading and expecting had finally come.“There is still one way to stop this all.” I said simply, feeling the growl of the vampire growing in the back of my mind with expectation. “The Amulet of Kings.”Sighing loudly, there was amusement etched into his expression as his smile broadened. “You truly are the last gasp of a dying age, breathing the stale air of false hope. In the face of utter destruction, you will still cling to the false ideals of the deceitful Aedra, choosing your own misguided loyalty to the weak than accepting your fate.”I had been expecting a lot of different things from the moment that I dived through the artificial portal to Oblivion, but what was quickly the most unbelievable thing that I witnessed was Mankar Camoran reaching into his robes, and drawing out the Amulet of Kings. The most priceless artefact in the entire Empire was quite literally power infused into physical form. It was irreplaceable in more ways than one and I had seen first-hand how it would only be worn by select individuals. The legends had always stated that only those fit to lead the Empire could rightfully wear the Amulet, so it was a considerable shock to see that Mankar was indeed wearing it around his neck.“You came here to… what? Face me? Retrieve the Amulet of Kings?” shaking his head he let the amulet hang from around his throat, now visible on the outside of his billowing robes. “Such arrogance. You are but a single man, a soul-light flickering in the shadows, to be snuffed out by the merest whim.”“You’re not the first being to have had said similar things about me, and to my face.” I said simply, the growl of the vampire now being too loud to ignore and filling me with a burning power and confidence. “Guess how that turned out for them?”The annoyance was impossible not to notice on Mankar’s expression but it turned into one of boredom as he sighed. “Very well. You came for the Amulet.” He said, simply stating the words without any emotion beyond the hint of challenge. “Take it then.”I felt rather than saw the way that his fingers twitched and his children began to move. Both Ruma and Raven were already responding to their father’s unspoken commands and the stink of magicka was strong as weapons began to appear in their hands. The spike of magicka in my mind was almost as potent as the pressure of Mankor’s will suddenly pressing down hard upon my being.Ruma was the quicker of the three family members, a serrated obsidian dagger appearing in her hand with the pungent aroma of sulphur announcing its presence but her expression of hatred changed to confusion as Sunchild sliced through her throat. Once again my fingers were talons, my flesh hardening and twisting as the vampire rose to the surface and time seemed to slow as I reacted. Even before the bite of my blade was registered in the mind of Camoran’s daughter I was already moving, the motion of drawing it from its sheath and cutting her throat turning into a smooth thrust that speared Raven through his open mouth.In less than a heartbeat both Raven and Ruma were once again dead by my hand, Raven instantaneously as Sunchild erupted from the back of his skull, Ruma seconds behind as her body shut down from the shock and blood loss of almost being decapitated. It left Mankar alone, standing just over a dozen metres away near his throne with a growing smile on his face.There were no words from either of us and before the bodies of his children fell to the marble floor I was already moving, taking several strides towards the leader of the Mythic Dawn. He was offering no resistance, not making any moves to defend himself or even arm himself and despite witnessing me kill his flesh and blood right before him he didn’t even twitch or blink.“The walls between our worlds are crumbling. The Mythic Dawn grows nearer with every rift in the firmament.” His words almost fell upon deaf ears as I began to charge forward but the pulsing waves of energies stemming from his willpower was as though I was running head first into a storm. “Soon… Very soon… the lines now blurred will be erased. Tamriel and Oblivion rejoined!”Less than twenty metres separated us and despite the power of the vampire surging through my veins I was hard pressed to make any progress. Each step I took despite being at full sprint only took me a short distance across the wide stairs. Reality wasn’t constant within the room and somehow Mankar was close enough for me to almost reach out and grab hold of, and yet out of the range of even the most powerful of ballista’s.The unnatural spaces within the room was doing more than hurt my eyes and drive spikes into my brain and I was struggling to keep my footing on a floor that seemed as solid and unyielding as stone and yet as fluid as a river. Even the air was thickening into a treacle like morass and I was roaring in the effort to move despite the fact I could have very easily run down a deer at that moment. There was no doubt that I was moving quickly through the room but he was simply changing its dimensions to keep me at bay.So intent on closing with Mankar I barely registered the threat until it was almost too late, instinctively ducking with my vampiric reflexes as an obsidian blade chopped through the air with none of the strange resistance I was suffering. The daedric longsword had been conjured from the very stuff of Paradise but there was no mistaking its nature, or the identity of its wielder. Despite the fact that he had literally taken the point of Sunchild through the brain, Raven Camoran was very much alive, inexplicitly unwounded and now doing his damnest to kill me and protect his father.Sunchild flicked the hissing edge of his daedric blade away and I was still reminded of how I had originally killed him in the depths of the Imperial City sewer system. He was not much of a swordsman then and not much had changed in the months since it appeared, especially after I folded him over on Sunchild with a savage riposte through the heart.“Think of it! The Mythic Age reborn!” Mankar called out over the sound of his son’s body collapsing wetly to the floor for the second time but I could barely hear him as Ruma appeared from my other side with her obsidian dagger. “His armies are merely the heralds for His coming. Lord Dagon shall walk Tamriel again and when he does, the world shall be remade…”A bolt of magicka flickered past my face from the infuriated elven woman and like her again-deceased brother she was also very much alive. Frost grew up my side and the chill of winter dug its claws into my meat and bone of my arm as she changed spells with her proximity. There was no fear in her eyes, only rage and anger and I had to turn my shoulder into the frigid stream, shielding my face just long enough to drive myself forwards with Sunchild at the ready.The magicka stopped the moment that her hand dropped away from her spurting wrist and the anger filled eyes were suddenly wide and white with shock and pain. Again Sunchild bit deep into her flesh but this time I did not waste the return slash of the blade by merely cutting her throat, and her head went tumbling away.Mankar was yet to move by any physical means but by the time I turned he was again yet further away than he had been before, an additional pair of stairs growing between us in those precious heartbeats. He was now slowly breaking into a grin, his hands clasped in front and the Amulet of Kings hanging tauntingly around his neck.My gaze however was pulled from him to where Raven’s body had fallen. Like the others that I had seen outside of this impossible structure it was dissolving and melting into nothingness, but just as quickly it was reforming from the walls only a dozen metres away. Unlike the rest of the insane geometry this was unfortunately more accurate and even before he was fully formed the elf was already on the attack.“The new age shall rise from the ashes of the old.” Mankar continued, almost mockingly as his children did just that, their corpses disappearing and becoming resurrected within seconds of their deaths. “My vision shall be realised. Weakness will be purged from the world, and mortal and immortal alike purified in the refiner’s fire.”Both of his children attacked me at the same time, Ruma appearing again from the opposing wall as her body reformed just as quickly as her brother’s but they were still outmatched. Raven’s ability with a sword was amateurish and while Ruma’s magicka was somewhat potent Sunchild and I were still more than enough to negate their abilities. The difficulty was that as quickly as I cut them down, the quicker they returned to life and reformed.I ducked under a slashing blow from Raven, cutting his calf muscle as I twisted past, grabbing him by the back of the collar and hurling him in the path of a magical chuck of ice that thudded into his stomach. Ruma was again closing quickly with me, one hand weaving complex patterns in the air for another spell and the other still grasping her serrated dagger. Again her next spell fizzled into nothingness as Sunchild took her life, but I had to move just as quickly again to block Raven’s next attack.“My long duel with the Septims is over, and I have the mastery.” There was no doubting the sheer pleasure in his tone as he made that simple announcement, his fingers caressing the Amulet of Kings with a twisted smile on his face. “The Emperor is dead. The Amulet of Kings is mine. Now, the last defender of the last ragged Septim stands before me; in the heart of my power.”Raven and Ruma were a storm of daedric metal and magicka, attacking from both sides and not giving me a moment to breathe. Fuelled by their desire to protect their father and his own considerable will it was taking less than a heartbeat for their resurrections and soon I found myself losing more and more control with each of their deaths. It didn’t take long at all for my fingers to taper into claws that began shedding more blood than Sunchild, and so too did the way I slaughtered them become ever more bloodthirsty.With talons, fists, feet and teeth I continued my advance through their attacks, step by step moving closer towards Mankar despite the impossible dimensions of the hall and his continued attempts to shape it to his own designs. I broke bones, ripped throats, gouged eyes, stomped on chests, snapped limbs, but the pain and constant resurrections didn’t even slow the two elves in the slightest and instead drove them on even more. If anything their attempts to fight me were becoming more and more insane, shrugging off wounds and injuries in their mad attempts to wound me which in a vicious cycle only seemed to damage my control further.Even despite the burning rage and desire for bloodshed the vampire’s instincts were shifting and changing too. The rush of power and pleasure of gore was potent and impossible to ignore but the more I lost control of myself the more it began to maim and wound instead. Ruma went down screaming as I tore her throat away but instead of finishing her off I moved on, leaving her to spasm and convulse as she bled out on the floor.It was too obvious within the first seconds that their esoteric abilities had limits. Their regeneration was quick and effortless but it was entirely dependent upon their deaths. Injuries and maiming did not heal and while they were dying those precious seconds gave me time to move ever closer to Mankar, the vampire pulsating through every vein until my body felt aflame with rage and bloodlust.Their abilities with blade and magicka may have been lacking but there was no doubting their resolve. Raven shrieked as I grasped him by the face with a clawed hand, crushing jaw and cheekbones under my grip before kicking him hard in a knee. The limb broke with the sound of dry wood snapping before his scream tore free but despite the pain as I left him writhing on the ground to pursue his father he took his own sword to himself, stabbing it deeply between his ribs and through his own heart.Both were fanatical but now I had a plan and the means to see it through. They both died several more times in my headlong rush, being cut down by my blade or horrifically mauled by talons and fangs but I was slowly drawing closer to their father now. I punched, bit, kicked, stabbed and clawed my way through them but just as it appeared that I was succumbing to fatigue I launched forward into another blistering attack.Ruma’s expression of pain and surprise was momentarily etched into her features as I stabbed her brother in the stomach, using him as little more than a sheath for Sunchild to free my hands for a heartbeat. The surprise was extremely short lived as I batted away her attempts to conjure another spell, grasping her by the sides of the head and violently twisting with the sound of knuckles cracking. In that moment she was left looking over her own spine, her body dropping like ragdoll and with several inches of Sunchild spearing his guts Raven could do little more than stare at me bug eyed as I turned on him.His own sword was slowed by pain and the few movements he managed to achieve before I reached him did little more than twist the length of Ayleid metal transfixing him. There was nothing he could do as I swatted his own sword out of his grasp with my taloned hands, grasping him firmly by the throat and slamming my forehead into his nose as hard as I could. Just like his sister he too dropped in a crumpled mass of pain and unconsciousness but unlike Ruma death would not be quick.There was that momentary glimpse of confusion on Mankar’s face as I left his son where he had fallen, neither finishing him off while he lay prone and helpless and nor did I take the opportunity to try to reach him. Instead I was already on the move, seeing the unnatural way Ruma’s body was disintegrating into the floor and her fresh existence peeling itself out of the marble walls like bloodied mould.She had no time to react, he body and consciousness forming out of nothing but the unbridled stuff of oblivion and her father’s portal dimension and in that moment of uncertainty and disorientation she was reborn with the sight of me rushing her. For the first time since we had started fighting I was on that attack and she flailed away, any thought or ability to conjure her magic rushing from her mind in the flood of instinct panic when any ‘mortal’ being found itself facing a vampire. Although I was still unarmed there was no stopping the way I bodily smashed her from her feet, my hands digging into her shoulder and gripping her by the head as my fangs sunk into her throat.I felt her flinch and spasm away from the intrusion of my fangs, her hands slapping against me and digging her fingernails into my face as she tried unsuccessfully to pry me off her. The other hand slammed repeatedly into my chest and side, punching the tip of her dagger in an effort to find flesh for it to taste but the moonstone chainmail and ebony breastplate was far too resilient. These attempts quickly faded with her strength as it left her body in a rush through the wound in her throat, her life force flooding into my mouth as I sucked it down greedily.When I finally released my grip on her body and withdrew my fangs from her throat she was left pale and staring blankly into the ceiling, her life drained from her body and this time there was dissolving or fading into nothing to be born anew. She flopped onto the cold marble tiles made of impossible angles and shapes, her body already turning cold as I found myself face to face with her father.His expression of aloof superiority and arrogance had been wiped away, replaced with one of confusion and disbelief as he glanced between the fallen forms of his children and my blood soaked figure. Raven was unconscious, but bleeding steadily from his gut wound and smashed face, but Ruma was dead, lifeless and despite his attempts was not resurrecting.“You said something about me being in the heart of your power?” I growled, my vocal cords thickening my words into an almost intelligible growl and I began moving towards him unimpeded. Sunchild was ripped out of Raven’s stomach where it had been jutting into the air as I stepped past his prone body, but there could be no mistaking my intent now.His response was an inarticulate howl of frustration and rage, throwing his hands out in front of him and bending his plane of oblivion to his will. The walls and floor shifted again, swapping interchangeably with each other as I began rushing forward. There was no thought or logic or reason to the impossible reality that I found myself in but now that I was unimpeded by constant attacks by his children it was no longer slowing me down. I bounded over the rising stairs as they slammed hard into the ceiling behind me, shifting into mist as spikes of marbled hatred thrust through the space that I had been occupying and roaring with vampiric might as I kept one step ahead of his machinations.The air dropped dozens of degrees in a second, shifting again into painful heat the next and yet nothing slowed me down. I could feel the hairs on my face being singed by the unnatural air currents as he lent more and more of his might into his attempts to kill me.Somehow the distance between us was impossibly far and yet short but more surprisingly the increasing changes to his Paradise were having limited effect on me. Whether it was from my entry into such a reality, the fact that out of everything within it I didn’t belong or even my daedric infused vampirism I was uncertain but I knew I was getting close when he changed his attempts into trying to stretch reality instead of killing me with it. Only two of the stairs were left and while each of them felt as long as a legion’s parade field Mankar was almost close enough to touch and so I roared and called upon the vampire abilities even more.I could never explain how I could shape change the way I did. Flesh and bone was one thing, but the ability to shift my clothes, armour, and equipment was impossible to explain. My brief discussions with Count Hassildor those long months ago had left me with the knowledge that this was not unusual and the daedric influence within the curse was the probable cause. Nonetheless it was highly effective when I crossed the last indeterminate distance between us as a swarm of chittering bats, reforming within a proper arm’s reach to Mankar and smashing him to the ground with a balled up fist.There was terror in his eyes as he struggled, using everything he could to fend me off from magicka to his own fists but in the end he was still just a mortal Altmer. In Paradise he was all knowing and all powerful but I was not a being of his plane of Oblivion, and certainly not entirely mortal. His screams were both of pain, horror and the despair of defeat but there was also an ironclad will behind it all that simply refused to give in or give up. He had spent untold years preparing and scheming, gaining the immeasurable support of a daedric prince but at the end there was nothing and no one that was left to help him.Blood frothed from his mouth as my talons sunk to the knuckle, curling up and behind his ribs and still he fought. Sunchild punched into and through his chest, spearing a lung but it didn’t stop him from coughing hate filled curses into my face and casting surging magicka into me through a calloused palm. Even when I grasped hold of his hand and pulled his forearm away he continued to fight, refusing to give up or to die until the very end. Only when there was no life left in his body at all, or a head still mounted on his shoulders did his will to continue stop for good.I was drenched in the gore of both him and his children, battered, bruised, and it felt as though ever centimetre of exposed flesh was covered in burns and blisters but the Amulet of Kings once again found itself in my hands. The weight of such a miraculous object was almost as impossible as the reality coming to an end around me but I couldn’t help but smile at the simple fact of winning once again.It didn’t feel like a victory though as Mankar’s world began ending just as his life had only moments before. The marble-yet-not-marble stonework began to bubble and spit, evaporating and compressing into sparkling lights. Far behind me in the impossible distances reality buckled and heaved, tearing apart in unfathomable colours and unnatural angles. Camoran’s children were rent apart in ways that even with my experience and bloodthirsty nature found difficult to stomach, Ruma in particular was practically stretched beyond any physical body should’ve been capable of before being turned inside out.Everything was coming undone around me and it was all I could do to grip the Amulet of Kings tightly to my chest, Sunchild remaining held in my other hand as the floor itself dropped away. Marble and stone seemed to flow into a liquid, consuming my flailing body as the room itself collapsed into nothing. For those few moments there was truly nothing, nothing but the last dying moment of a reality-that-never-was and the utter destruction of all beings that had temporarily called it their home or prison. As for myself I was cast adrift, thrown into the tumultuous tides and eddies of Oblivion itself. The vision of Mankar’s sanctum was stripped and shredded, replaced with sights, colours and sensations that were impossible to entirely perceive and did nothing more than inflict pain at my attempts to make sense of.Even with my eyes firmly closed I could still see, and when my eyes were open I was blind. I was surrounded by everything and nothing, trapped and entirely free and I could no longer tell whether I existed or never had. Paradise was lost, Camoran and all of his creations and misguided followers were utterly annihilated in the energies of creation and I was adrift, lost and floating in their ether.Only the burning cold sensations of metal and gemstone in the palm of my hand gave me anything to focus on, the tiniest amount of real within the unreal and I gripped the Amulet of Kings with all my strength until I swore it was drawing blood. There was nothing else left, nothing left but me and the tiny fragment of a god in my hand and yet as the true darkness of unconsciousness finally claimed my sanity, I was left with the image of an enormous tower engraving itself into my mind.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The prodding sensation on my face was constant and insistent, and I did my best to flick it away, only for it to return even more forceful than before. The sensation of sharpness on the very tip of the prodding object was making itself felt more and more and no matter how I tried it would not go away.“I know you’re awake Kaius. I can sense it.”The prodding continued and yet I could feel the sensation within my arms as they struggled to respond to my will. Everything tingled as though I had somehow managed to sleep in a strange position and make all my limbs go painfully dead. What was worse was the fact that I was slowly realising that I couldn’t move properly at all, and the insistent prodding was not going away anytime soon.Burning and metallic, the smell that somehow reached my mist-filled mind reminded me of something, something painfully familiar and strangely pleasant but the sudden sensation of true tingling and shock that flooded me and made me scream was certainly not.“There. I knew you were conscious.”My vision was blurry and unfocussed and I was struggling to breathe but there were colours and shapes and movement where there had been nothing but darkness and shadow before. Everything was difficult to focus on or identify but the close proximity of ebony flesh and white hair was impossible to ignore.“Viconia.” My voice was painful and my throat was as dry as the deserts of Elsweyr but it felt strangely comforting that I could speak and see again.“About time you woke up. I swear you are getting lazier.”Blinking and shaking my head in an attempt to clear the fog from my mind and the tingling from my limbs it was difficult to comprehend anything around me. I could see age-worn stones, blessedly real sunlight streaming through a nearby window and smell the chill air but strangely enough the sensation of fabric brushing against my skin was more pleasant than I would’ve normally considered.“What happened?”Her wolf-yellow eyes burned into me from the short distance between us from where she was sitting and there was a half smile on her face that wasn’t entirely pleasant. “You weren’t waking up and these waelen were refusing to do anything. So I helped you.”Despite my confusion and the pleasant sensations of being surrounded by reality there was a small part of me that was not feeling good. My chest throbbed painfully, feeling akin to a small burn and the tingling sensation there was almost more than enough of an explanation.“You shocked me?”“To wake you up, yes.” She made a tiny circular gesture with her finger that still contained the faint aura of magicka.Still struggling to see properly or even think, I looked around more, trying to shake the confusion from my mind and try to recollect where and what I had been doing. The room that Viconia and I were in was unfamiliar, sparsely decorated and beyond the basics of a bed, table and chair it was very difficult to determine where I was exactly. The open window wasn’t helping much either, providing egress for smells of humanity, baking foods and the chill of fresh snow and frost but whatever sounds I might have been able to hear from outside was being blocked out by a rhythmic thumping from the other side of the room.“What in oblivion is going on?” Turning my head back to her cold expression I tried and failed to keep my confusion at bay. “Where are we?”“In the Hospice of Mara in Bruma. You’ve been here for almost four days now.”“Four days…” I rubbed my eyes, trying to force them to focus and allow me to see more than just blurred shapes and colours.Viconia was uncharacteristically silent for the most part and the feeling of warmth was a welcome one as she rested a hand on my forearm.“What is that noise?” My question made her eyes flick towards the direction of the all furthest from the window and the bed that I was sitting on, and there was one of her customary smiles that always made me think of a predatory cat, moments before it devoured its kill.“That would be the priests.” She said simply, and I could hear the thumping and the muffled voices through the solid wood. “They are not happy with me.”The blurred shapes on the far wall were slowly improving and it was enough that I could see the rough shape of a chair jammed into the door under the handle. It was shuddering with the impacts on the door from the outside, but there didn’t appear to be an overly dedicated effort in breaking the door down from those outside yet.My questioning expression left her eyes rolling and she gestured tiredly in the direction of the door and the increasing number of voices outside. “They were content with leaving you in here and waiting for you to wake up on your own. That was... unacceptable to me.”“I’ve been unconscious for four days?”Her eyes were colder than normal as she pointedly stared at me. “Kaius… You’ve been unconscious ever since you returned, but you were gone for nearly three weeks. You… you had me worried.”I could feel the way that my jaw dropped and I struggled to understand what she was saying, but a voice from outside the door, a louder and more forceful one made itself heard as the owner called Viconia’s name.Despite her efforts to barricade and jam the door closed, Viconia heeded his new voice and rose to her feet, moving over and removing the chair. There was no hesitation as she pulled the door open, and while still blurry I could see the group of people huddled around peering inside with interest.“Jauffre. He’s awake.”There was no mistaking the aged spymaster as he walked into the room. While his authority and rank was normally something known to a few who directly knew him, he was now dressed in the full armour of the Blades bar his helm. The ancient Akaviri design was unique and impossible not to recognise which explained the subdued expression by the handful of robed priests hesitating in following him inside, and while there was traces of anger on his aged features there was relief there too.“So I see. I should’ve known the chances of you leaving well enough alone were forlorn.” His gaze moved from Viconia who was utterly refusing to back down or cower in his presence to me, softening slightly as it did so. “It is good to see you conscious again.”“What is going on?”The two of them shared glances and a pointed gesture from Jauffre in the direction of the door sent the collection of priests scurrying away. “Things have taken turns for the worse recently.” He began, closing the door behind himself. “But you survived and your mission was successful. We were all afraid that you had failed and that you were lost for quite some time there.”“Viconia said that I was gone for weeks.”Both of them nodded. “Yes.” Jauffre answered. “It has almost been a month since you both arrived back at Cloud Ruler. Explanations may have to wait however. You have been through quite a lot recently and I don’t wish to overwhelm you until you have a chance to recover.”I nodded as though I understood but my mind was a rushing torrent of thoughts vying for attention. Frustration was also making itself felt, assisted by the growing annoyance at being left in the dark in more ways than one.“A word, Viconia?”Her nod was tiny and brief to the aged Blade and it was hard not to notice the slight annoyance under his relief at seeing me awake. Viconia paid it no real heed however, giving me a true smile before moving over, leaning down and kissing me for the slightest of moments. As brief and short lived as it was, it still left me with a different kind of relaxed tingling that remained as she left, following Jauffre out of the room.Just like that I found myself alone for a brief time, before a handful of priests decided that the scary dark elf and Blademaster were far enough away to no longer be intimidating and practically tripped over themselves to enter the room.While the following hours were maddening in their own way, I had no real choice in the matter. My body was weakened, drained of strength and stamina and I had to put up with the attentions of a handful of priest-healers as they swarmed me. In the days since my re-emergence from Oblivion I had been cared for by the healers of the Hospice, but while I had been unconscious there had been little that they could do. For the most part it appeared that they were all uncertain to the exact cause of what had appeared to be a coma beyond that it was magical in nature and it didn’t take me long to determine that the Blades had kept the truth behind the matter a secret.I did however learn a lot of what had been occurring since I had first entered Mankar Camoran’s Paradise and the reason why myself, Viconia and Jauffre were in Bruma instead of Cloud Ruler. In fact, all of the Blades were in the city and like many other cities throughout the Empire it was also home to an increasing number of refugees and people seeking shelter and safety. Almost a week after my disappearance into Oblivion, portals had begun opening on the plains south east of the city, disgorging hordes of daedra that had quickly killed and burned everything within the vicinity. These daedra had managed to secure a sizable area within several hours of travel to the city and their numbers were steadily growing.Already they had grown far too numerous to be contained or destroyed by what forces were available in Bruma. What was more worrisome however was that there were more than enough to undertake an assault on the city with good chances of victory but instead the daedric forces seemed content in lingering and roaming. Their patrols were covering a vast area to the south of the city, moving in such numbers that had quickly cut off all traffic and roads between Bruma and the rest of Cyrodiil. Bruma for the moment was for all intents and purposes under siege, just not directly.This news was something that, while disheartening was not something that came as a surprise. Mankar’s words to me still echoed in my mind even though the events that occurred after his death refused to take form in my consciousness. I knew that he had not been lying about Dagon’s army invading Tamriel but even listening to the panicked words and stories from the healers checking and assisting me I somehow knew that worse was to follow.The healers at least seemed to be doing their best to assist me, and to assist me quickly but the weakness infusing my flesh was proving difficult to remove. A combination of the coma and whatever I had experienced during and after the destruction of Paradise had sunk deep into the core of my being and even restoration magicka was struggling to cleanse it.Within a couple of hours I could stand at least, and even stagger my way to the door but it was doing nothing for my impatience and hatred for weakness in my own body. What was truly worse was that even with my vampirism I struggling. In fact, without my curse I would have remained bedridden for a considerable amount of time, easily days, and possibly a week or more in the worst case. Knowing of what was truly coming for the world was proving useful in part to force my unwilling body to obey my commands but it was a slow process.By the late afternoon I could stand without support, much to the consternation of the priests who were trying everything bar physically restraining me to the bed or making me unconscious again to keep me resting. Viconia and the others hadn’t returned since she had used her lightning magicka to wake me but going by the excitement in the streets outside and the stories I could overhear from the priests they had their hands full assisting a besieged city.With nothing else to do between the hourly check-ups, I was left to my own devices in a room that provided with the bare minimum and nothing of entertainment value. The view from the window was also infuriatingly useless, showing little more than a tiled roof of a nearby building with little else but while my curse was not much use in healing my body it still provided excellent hearing. Leaning against the window frame I used this ability to listen across a portion of the city, hearing the panic, listening to the activity of thousands making preparations or simply milling about in confusion. There was still control and order though, the sounds of metallic tramping and jingling of the city guard conducting patrols echoed over everything.My hearing did also allow me to easily detect the individuals approaching my room, and one of them opening the door to the sight of me staring out the window. As they had on previous occasions there always appeared to be one or two standing just outside the door, while one would enter to check on me or conduct some sort test to determine any improvement. Again, as it had on more than one occasion already there was a sigh from the person who entered, but the chuckle was different.“You are never one for laying down, are you Kaius?”The familiarity turned my head almost as quickly as I recognised it and my expression had broken into a smile before I had finished turning around.“You get plenty of sleep when you are dead.” I replied, feeling the weakness in my legs as they protested at the movement.The last time I had seen Martin was as I had thrown myself through the Oblivion portal of his making, and the change in him was considerable. The enchanted robes to assist in the ritual had been replaced with clothing of such expense and richness that everything else simply paled in comparison. What was more, and strangely soothing to see was the way that the Amulet of Kings hung from around his throat, appearing entirely suited for him.“Then let’s hope you won’t be getting any rest anytime soon.”The other two outside of the room were Blades, their distinctive Akaviri armour only barely visible through the open doorframe but their attentions were outside and towards anything that may threaten their charge. It felt strange and otherworldly to be standing before Martin but only because of the change in him over the previous weeks and the obvious fact that he was wearing the Amulet of Kings.His concern was obvious as I moved, my legs shaking with the effort but I was at least able to walk. I moved closer to him, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious dressed in a cheap woollen tunic and pants in comparison to his rich, regal clothes.Something of my mood must’ve been visible as his face creased in an awkward smile, a hand unconsciously tapping at the Amulet of Kings. “Things have progressed during your absence.”“I can tell. What in Oblivion is actually going on? I’ve apparently been missing for almost a month, and yet Viconia and Jauffre almost ran off within minutes of me waking up.”“I wouldn’t take it to heart Kaius. Especially with Viconia. She’s moved Aetherius and Nirn itself in her attempts to recover you but other matters have been proving to be highly distracting.”“Dagon’s Army.”He nodded, his face grave. “Yes. The first Oblivion Gate opened less than two days after you entered Camoran’s Paradise and there have been many more since. They’re building their forces and it is only going to be a matter of time before they are ready to attack.”This time my legs felt weaker from something other than whatever had occurred after the destruction of Paradise and I found myself looking around. Before I could reply however Martin gave me a smile and made a vague gesture to the door.“Are you fit enough to walk? You look like you could do a reprieve from here.”“I’m fairly sure that the priests wouldn’t be happy with me wandering off.” I replied, but he simply laughed in return.“While I mightn’t be entirely used to the way people treat me these past days, I doubt any of them are going to be willing to try to stop me. Not while I’m wearing this in any case.”It was my turn to smile as he actively gestured to the Amulet of Kings and I nodded in agreement. Carefully, I made my way in the direction of the door, feeling the weakness in my body but being thankful to the fact that I was able to walk, albeit with some difficulty.“You never cease to amaze me my friend.” He said as I stepped out of the room past the pair of waiting Blades. Unlike Jauffre earlier these two were entirely clad in the greatest armour the order had to offer, and they both nodded to me behind their snarling mempo masks. “Against all hope, you returned from Camoran’s Paradise with the Amulet. I can’t imagine what you went through in there but you made it back in one piece.”Slowly we made our way through the hospice, a handful of the priests and healers staring agog at the sight of Martin in his finery wearing the Amulet of Kings and the pair of heavily armed Blades standing a respectably short distance behind us. No one was willing to stop any of us, despite their consternation at me being out of my bed and room and walking with a painful slowness.“It was… unusual.” I said as walked. The pace was barely above a crawl but I could feel my muscles stretching and the painful tingling slowly beginning to fade. “I don’t understand how I was gone for so long though. It was only an hour, maybe two that I was within Paradise.”“Time flows differently within the bounds of Oblivion.” He replied, nodding and acknowledging the handful of priests and healers who we passed. “But I have my own theories of what actually occurred to you. I suspect, and did so shortly after you entered Paradise that you were successful in confronting Camoran. But then something happened. We lost you.”There was no doubting how awkward he suddenly appeared despite the authority of his blood and heritage. I could also sense guilt under the cold mask that he habitually wore as we stepped out into the sunlight.“Wasn’t part of your ritual meant to stop that from happening?”He nodded, a quick and short motion that conveyed a lot of his guilt. “It was, and in a way it did. None of us were expecting that the soul-tether we had made would take time to actually work. I believe that for a majority of these past weeks you have actually been cast adrift within the tides of Oblivion itself. The fact that you returned intact and still alive in nothing short of miraculous, never mind the fact that you are currently awake and walking around.”My bitter laugh was slightly louder than I intended as I looked about the tiny courtyard of the Hospice, seeing the towering city walls only a few dozen metres away and the dozens of buildings that surrounded us. Curious eyes were looking out of some of the windows, and a handful of passers-by had stopped at Martin’s appearance as the clothes and especially the Amulet drew more than just the eyes. There was truly something potent about the Amulet and even from dozens of metres away it drew attention.“What is the last thing that you remember seeing?” Martin asked, his voice suddenly serious as he gestured in the direction of the walls and away from the slowly building crowd.“Camoran dead. He took a bit to finally die but when he did Paradise started falling apart. It was… I don’t know how to describe it.” For a moment I knelt down and massaged my calves that suddenly felt as though I had been marching for several days. “It all melted and dissolved and yet imploded around me. It didn’t seem to affect me though.”“Glad to know that at least some of the enchantments we wove into the portal worked at least. Although holding onto the Amulet of Kings probably helped you as well.”“I was worried about dropping it.” I replied with full honesty.This time his laugh echoed over the growing noise of the small crowd following us down the street towards the walls. “We all could tell. When you reappeared in Cloud Ruler it took three of the Blades to pry it from you. I don’t know if you could tell but you were holding it that tightly you actually injured your hand.”I could see the faint traces of scabbed tissue in the palm of my hand from where the healers had used restoration magicka but at that moment I was more concerned with the memories of what I had seen. They were potent enough that I actually felt nauseous just from thinking of the impossible sights and images.“Camoran had made Paradise like the Imperial City. All the buildings and walls and everything though was made from trees and forests, except for the Tower though. The Tower was built like White-Gold.”“That is unsurprising to me. Everything that I read in the Commentaries spoke towards how he was seeking to recreate the world and the Imperial City is more important than just being the Empire’s Capital. Especially White-Gold.”“The last thing I remember seeing is his tower. But it was bigger though, impossibly so.”Martin fell silent at that and I could feel his gaze on me as I concentrated on putting on foot in front of the other, feeling the somewhat-pleasant burn of exertion from such a simple motion. “In some ways I doubt the Tower that you saw was indeed the remains of Camoran’s Paradise, especially if you saw it after its destruction. But, I also doubt that you saw The ‘Tower’.”“The Tower?”He nodded. “The Tower that is reality. The metaphysical wheel of time that moves ever onwards.”“Now you are just talking in riddles.”At my expression and tone he laughed and it was an honest laugh. “These things we talk of have never been seen or experienced and nor can they ever truly be understood. They are beyond us; beyond the scope and comprehension of mortals but in a way they also explain why mortals have placed such importance on the Towers throughout Tamriel.”“Like White-Gold?”“And its siblings. Some you would easily recognise, others are not made by the crafts of men and mer but they all play an important role. When Mundus or Nirn was created, it was locked off and separated from Oblivion by using the towers. It is said that each of the Towers in the physical world were created in turn, each reinforcing the barriers.”“If that’s the case, then how and why is Mehrunes Dagon invading and where do the Dragonfires come into it?”“Nothing is ever simple, Kaius. Especially when we are talking about the very fabric of reality. White-Gold you definitely know, but then there is Ada-Mantia in Highrock, Crystal-like-Law in the Summerset Isles, Orichalc of sunken Yokuda, the Numidium Walk-Brass, the tree-city Falinesti, and then some others that many wouldn’t think to consider. Snow-Throat, known to the Nords as The Throat of the World and even Red Mountain on Vvardenfell. Some of these Towers have been broken in the time since creation which have weakened the barriers, and in turn has allowed Mehrunes Dagon to undertake this invasion of his.”“You know I used to be a simple legionary, right?”Both of us laughed at that, pausing for the moment at the bottom of the stairs leading up onto the ramparts. I was enjoying the walk and the conversation but I was uncertain whether I was going to enjoy climbing the stairs in my condition. “You don’t give yourself enough credit my friend. You have proven yourself to be far greater than you acknowledge.”“In some things, but not when we are talking about the actual state of reality and the meaning of life stuff. I’m still trying to understand how everything can be a wheel and a tower at the same time.”“When you look at a wheel flat on it is a wheel, turning and revolving.” Martin said, making a circular gesture while we slowly inched our way up the stairs. I couldn’t help but notice that he was purposely leading me to the ramparts but I was happy enough to be in the fresh air and sunlight for the moment. “But the wheel is also a tower when you turn it face on.”“Whoever came up with these theories was partaking in far too much skooma I think.”My breathless response from climbing the stairs made Martin smile and thankfully there weren’t too many to climb as the exertion was unfathomable. I had grown so accustomed to the strength and power of my vampirism that I had forgotten how it actually felt to be weak and helpless, but I was far from the point of actually admitting so in front of Martin and his pair of bodyguards.“It is convoluted but you should be thankful that you never had to actually research this. Those few years in the mages guild left me with far more questions than I ever had answers.”“That time has served you well though. I don’t know of anyone else who could have deciphered the Mysterium Xarxes or created that ritual to get me into Paradise. I’m definitely thankful for everything you did to get me back though.”“For some time there I thought that I had doomed us all.”Slowly I staggered to the last stair, struggling to catch my breath but feeling the surge of power as the vampire made its presence faintly felt. I was ridiculously weak, even more so than I would have been if I was entirely mortal but it was strangely comforting knowing that the weakness was likely to be temporary.“I’m certainly glad that you didn’t.” I joked between breaths, looking over the expanse of the city and the hundreds of buildings before me. “So, why are we up here?”“In all honesty I needed to get away from it all for a few moments.” There was something akin to raw emotion in Martin’s voice as he shared my gaze over Bruma. “So much has happened and there is so much more to come and it is difficult not to feel entirely overwhelmed.”“I know that feeling. Recently too.”Smoke was rising from every chimney within the city and while Autumn was growing darker and winter steadily approached, the mid afternoon sun made it pleasant. The wind from the north was slightly bitter, but the years spent in northern Vvardenfell had exposed me to some of the worst cold in Tamriel. For the most part Bruma was short and compact, the buildings built at most one or two stories above the ground and more into the earth and stone itself but the Cathedral of Talos and the Castle rose high. Those two buildings were the only two that stood taller than the twelve-metre-high battlements, and from our position Martin and I could overlook the entire city of eighty thousand.“In between her attempts to coerce me and the other mages to do more to rescue you, Viconia told me about some of the things you accomplished with the Order of the Nine. You truly have done amazing things Kaius.”“A lot of people would call them insane.”“But still amazing.”I fell silent for a few moments as I thought over and remembered some of the things that I had accomplished. Walking alone into the vampire nest of Nornalhorst, fighting the werewolves and vampires of Glenvar, retrieving the Relics of the Nine and fighting alongside Caleb in the Battle of Garlas Malatar. There were other events that also came to mind almost as easily as quickly, such as the Battle of Kvatch, the Battle of Anvil, the minotaurs of Nonungalo, even the destruction of the Mythic Dawn. There had been so much death, so much fighting and truly the only true light within the shadows of the previous months had been the relationship that Viconia and I had developed.“You look troubled.”Sparing a glance for the royally dressed heir to the Empire, I shrugged and took the opportunity to sit down and rest on the top stair. “In a lot of ways I am.”“In what way?”“Several actually. I guess Viconia told you a lot of what we have been through but it is that which is making me a little concerned. Only in the old stories have I ever read about people or beings who have done what I have done. Most of those stories were make believe children’s tales or legends so old I doubt anyone really knows the truth.”“They’re already writing stories about you, you know.”“Don’t get me started on that. It’s bad enough hearing my name used by bards and minstrels. That’s not the problem though. The problem I have is that… I don’t know how to put it, but I feel cold.”Glancing up at the towering mountains to the north, Martin gave me a half smile and sat down on the top of the stairs as well. Each stair was nearly three metres wide and wide enough for two or three men to fight at a time but it was still strange to see him potentially ruining his expensive clothes in such a way.“Feeling overwhelmed?”“I guess you could put it like that.” I admitted. “I barely feel anything anymore, and when I do it only during battle or…” My words trailed off and I felt my face grow hot as I thought of some of the more intimate times that Viconia and I shared.Martin’s laugh and expression was more than enough to tell me that he understood my unspoken words, but there was seriousness underneath it all. “You have done a lot since we have first met and if anything I would be surprised if you hadn’t been affected by it all. In many ways the way you are feeling in normal. You have fought and killed and bled more for Tamriel and its people in the past two years than what most people would across entire lifetimes. This… Coldness that you feel is simply your mind’s way of shutting it all out and coping it with all.”He too went silent for a moment, staring off into the distance. “What you need is peace.”“We all need peace.”“Ha. You’re telling me.” Slowly he stretched back. “We’re not going to get any soon though.”“How bad is it? All I have heard is conjecture and hearsay.”The sudden cold steel in his eyes was impossible to miss as he met my gaze. “It is worse than we feared. Most of our communications with the rest of Cyrodiil have been cut and we can’t get through to the south. What little information Jauffre has received from the rest of Cyrodiil has been limited to what has come through the Pale Pass, which has limited us to news from Skyrim and portions of Hammerfell, Highrock and Morrowind. The Empire is under siege.”“I thought the Blades had managed to dismantle the Mythic Dawn enough to reduce the chances of Oblivion Portals being used?”“They had. They had been incredibly successful but there have been enough cultists who escaped who have managed to open a handful of portals over the previous months. It appears the Mythic Dawn’s original plan was to continuously open portals in direct assaults against cities, but the Blades were that effective that they were forced to carefully open the portals away from civilisation. For the brief times they are open the daedra have been entering Tamriel and unfortunately been biding their time. They may be little more than raiding parties and warbands but there are a lot of them and they are making their presence felt now.”“Stopping assistance and military forces from reaching the places where they are needed.” I added bitterly. “And to top it all of the Legion is holed up in the Imperial City.”“Thankfully you aren’t entirely right for once.” The relief in his voice was almost a physical thing. “Not all of the Legions have managed to withdraw to the Capital. Some have been waylaid on their return or have been delayed for various reasons. I give my thanks to the Divines that the Ninth were making their way through the Pale Pass when the gates began opening.”“The Ninth?” I couldn’t help but grin at that news. “We definitely been blessed with luck. The Ninth is one of the more experienced of the Legions.”Martin’s face creased with a smile. “So I have been told by nearly everyone within earshot. They certainly have a name for themselves, but I guess that’s what happens when an entire legion is located on Solstheim.“When do they arrive?”“They have also been here for almost a fortnight now.”After a moment’s hesitation he rose to his feet and watched as I did so with considerably less ease. My anxiety was somewhat relieved as well at the news that an entire Legion was present despite my sense of foreboding that Mankar’s comments about the numbers in Dagon’s army not being entirely boastful.“Who commands the Ninth?”“Legate Jeelus-Ei Xemseus. As you can expect I’ve had quite a lot to do with him in the past weeks.”“That name sounds Argonian.”“It is, and so is he. It was a bit of surprise when I first met him.”Moving slowly along the wall I could help but nod, and for my confidence in the current situation to improve even more, if slightly. The Empire only ever had twenty Legates at any one time and each were the supreme commanders of an entire Legion. They were subordinate only to the Emperor and the Elder Council, and with 5,000 of the greatest soldiers in Tamriel under their command they had the power and ability to remake entire provinces if they wished. While the position of Legate was heavily influenced by politics and influence it spoke volumes about Legate Xemseus rising to such a rank, especially how his command was situated within one of the more dangerous regions of Tamriel.Off the northern coast where Morrowind and Skyrim’s borders met was a wind and ice blasted island, home to a society of Nords who made their mainland dwelling kin appear soft in comparison. The Skaal were renowned warriors, seafarers and raiders, and unlike their southern cousins they were not as entirely ‘civilised’. Solstheim didn’t breed weak people and as a result and even despite their limited numbers it took the might of an entire Legion just to maintain balance and peace in the region. During my time in Vvardenfell I had personally met and encountered Skaal, mostly traders and travellers to the northern coasts of Morrowind and those brief encounters were more than enough to solidify my respect for the Legionaries who had to face them when the need arose.This alone was enough to ensure that the Ninth was one of the more veteran Legions, battle-tested and experienced but Solstheim had played host to a wide range of conflict in recent years. The expansion of the East Empire Trading Company in their search for Ebony mines and other valuable trade goods had increased the pressure and unrest between the other interested parties. Mainland Nords and the Great Dunmer Houses also had stake on the Island and conflict was not uncommon. If the rumours were to be believed, then Solstheim had also recently had something that could only be described as a plague of Lycanthropy which had left many of the Legion experienced in dealing with Werewolves and their kin.It was these thoughts that were running through my mind that left me with the budding sense of hope, but it was not to last as Martin led me along the ramparts. Bruma’s curtain wall was large and well maintained, but as we made our way along towards the south east corner the situation was becoming more and more visible. What was worse was the more visible it became, the worse it obviously appeared.The position of the city on the foothills of the Jeralls allowed a significant view of the lands, and none of it was heartening to see. South of the city was aflame, fires and smoke rising steadily into the sky and the land was covered in a dark pall that was not entirely the result from the destruction. The first villages that were within sight were no longer existing beyond blacked stumps of tumbled ruins, homesteads and farms were blackened coals and even some of the forests were swathes of ragged stumps. Death and fire from Oblivion was slowly scouring the landscape down to the topsoil, and there were several long minutes where I could do little more than stare in growing horror.“How many.” I said, making the question sound more of a breathless statement as I looked.“Optimistically?” Martin replied, moving over and leaning on the stone crenulations. “A hundred thousand.”“The total strength of all twenty Legions.”Again he nodded. “In the worst case we are facing more than four hundred thousand daedra.”The number sunk into my belly. It was a number that had never been used to describe a mortal army throughout the entire history of Tamriel. Even the great Akaviri Invasions of Skyrim and Cyrodiil had only featured armies less than a hundred thousand strong. It was inconceivable and outright impossible for mortal armies to array such an enormous fighting force in one place for any given time. Finding the numbers would be difficult enough of a task, but to feed and supply them was another thing entirely. As far as I knew even the Legion had never fought with more than three legions in once place for this reason alone.And yet I knew how Dagon’s army could exist, even as I wished that what my eyes were showing me was false. The Daedra had less concerns about food and supply, as those that actually required physical sustenance were devouring all in their path, and probably each other if it came down to it. But what was worse, and what I could actually see with my vampirism over such distances was the true reason why they were able to sustain themselves. Deep in the heart of the destroyed landscape, under a heavy, swirling bank of angry, black clouds was a collection of burning portals encased in obsidian.Martin was watching me as I looked over the writhing canker in reality, seeing the faint traces of movement from the blackened mass surrounding the Oblivion portals and the distances between them and the city. It was not nearly far enough away for my liking, but I knew that the shifting anthill-like area around the burning portals were countless daedra in an unbroken horde.“I think the optimists are mentally addled.” Ruefully, Martin nodded in agreement, but remained silent as I looked at him and gestured at the devastation. “So why are you of all people still here? I thought that using the Amulet of Kings to relight the Dragonfires would be able to stop all this?”“By the time that you returned with the Amulet it was already too late.” He replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper. “There are too many of them now, and everything to the south is under their control. Entire Cohorts of Dremora have encircled and cut us off entirely, and every messenger, scout or force we have sent to the south have been run down by Vermai. They’re using those particular daedra like outriders and hunting dogs. If I left right now, whether it is alone or with all of the Blades and the entire Ninth we would be caught and destroyed and all would be lost.”His expression was significantly grave as he gestured to the blasted landscape before us. “What little forces we have are not enough to break this siege, and the Divines only know why the daedra haven’t already attacked. Xemseus has the opinion that despite all their numbers they don’t actually have the equipment to conduct a formal siege and so all they can do is trap us here instead.”“Hundreds of thousands of daedra stopped by a set of stone walls. It’s almost funny.”“Well, there is some hope on the horizon. Quite literally in some cases and again it appears that we have you to thank.”“Me?”“Well, you were the Knight Commander of the Order of the Nine. The news of the Oblivion Crusade had reached us before you and Viconia first arrived back to Cloud Ruler and it has since been gathering momentum. The last any of us had heard was that the forces of Highrock and many of the Knightly Orders had answered the Divine Crusader’s call. If any of the messages we have been receiving so far are accurate, then the Crusade should be near Markarth within the Reach.”“That’s western Skyrim.” I breathed, feeling my face crease with a savage amusement that did little to relieve the tension.“Two to three weeks travel from what I have been told. We’re all hoping that the strength of the Crusade will be enough to bolster our limited forces here to attempt a breakout but we don’t know exactly how many have gathered. All that we know for sure is that it is coming here.”“We just have to hold out until then.”“Divines willing, and as long as the Dagon’s army doesn’t change its strategy. Xemseus and the other commanders seem confident that we can hold the city with our current forces, but we’re gathering as many abled-bodied people as we can. Messengers have been sent through the Pale Pass and Countess Carvain has agreed to assist by using Bruma’s funds in hiring whatever mercenaries are available and willing, and we’re levying as many as we can arm in what time we have.”“Militia and sellswords against a daedric horde.” I muttered under my breath too softly for Martin to hear but my expression would have been more than enough for him to know what I was thinking. Judging by his expression we weren’t thinking differently.Still choosing to stretch my legs and enjoy the cool evening air despite the nature of the view, we continued our long slow walk along the ramparts, past the towers holding their great siege engines and the numerous professional guards and soldiery of Bruma going about their duties. It was comforting to see how many of them appeared confident or at the very least undeterred at the sight of so much wanton destruction, but the vampire in me could only growl at the smell and taste of fear billowing from them all. It was impossible not to feel fear in such a situation, but my respect for the men and women in Bruma was steadily increasing.Especially as we moved further up and along the eastern ramparts. In the previous weeks there had been a lot of preparations being made to defend the city and evidence of such was all before the walls. Defensive ditches lined with stakes had been dug in ever increasing numbers, ringing further and further outwards to hinder any attempted assaults. Mounds of earth had also been piled in various places to impede attacks and the use of siege equipment, blocking access for towers and foliage and trees had been cleared beyond the range of even the greatest of ballista’s or trebuchets. Even range markers had been marked out in fifty metres intervals out to five hundred to allow for those on the walls to quickly and easily identify which weapons would be the most effective at which range.All combined together these improvements drastically increased the effectiveness of the defenders, and would ensure that any attackers would have to pay a hefty toll in blood. Against any mortal adversary I would have considered that this would have been enough to make Bruma impervious to any siege, but against the daedric hordes arrayed against us I had second thoughts of ultimately how effective it would all be.Hundreds of people were working hard outside the walls as we moved in the direction of the northern gatehouse. The preparations of the siege were continuous and ongoing and I could see how labourers and artisans were working side by side by beings who were obviously legionaries. Not many people within all of Tamriel shared the build, mannerisms or attitudes to those within the Legions, nor did they share their experience with manual labour, engineering or siegeworks.A large number of what I assumed was the Ninth legion were working tirelessly to prepare the city and not a single man or woman was wasting a moment of time. The veterans knew their duties well, and put their experience and stamina to good use and with anyone else it would have been astonishing how much they had accomplished in just a few weeks.What really drew my attention though was the steady stream of carts, wagons, horses and people that were making their way along the road from the Pale Pass and to the city’s north gate. A huge majority, easily several thousand were refugees and civilians fleeing from the daedra or seeking safety within the fortified city, but there was a large group that immediately caught my eye.There were hundreds of them, moving in what was undeniably a military formation and marching in a manner that was unmistakable for someone such as myself. They were five abreast, arrayed in deep columns of over a hundred each and each column had enough men and mer that they covered almost half a kilometre. Ten of these enormous formations were marching in line, the echoing tramp of metal soled-sandals echoing over the sounds of hundreds of labourers working hard on the defences.“That’s not the Ninth.” I said as Martin drew up alongside me, and I could hear him laugh out loud at my sudden realisation.“No. No it is not.”My heart was racing as I stared at the armoured snake of men and mer marching down from the direction of the Pale Pass. Not a single legionary was missing his armour and they were glinting in the afternoon sunlight as they marched in the full panoply of war. Along the sides of the marching legion rode tightly disciplined groups of Extraordinarii, and in the very heart of the enormous formation was a massive collection of wagons and mules carrying the supplies and war materiel for another five thousand of the Empire’s finest.“Talo’s ball’s Martin! You neglected to tell me that we now have two entire Legions here?”“I was looking forward to seeing your reaction.” This time his laugh was a true laugh without any of the previous stress from before, and for the moment at least the pain and fatigue in my body was lost as I staggered forward to get a closer look at the approaching Legion.“Well, I guess you must be quite pleased with yourself then.” Two Legions was something that I had never experienced or even heard about occurring in decades. Most Legions spent a majority of the time separated into their five hundred strong castas and for a Legion to unify as a whole was almost unheard of. A single casta was all that was need to retake Kvatch, and now between the legionaries assisting in fortifying Bruma and the newly arrived legion there was now twenty times as many than I had fought alongside at Kvatch. “This is unbelievable; I honestly don’t know the last time when two Legions…”I stopped in place and the weakness and churning sensation that flooded my stomach was even more potent than that when I laid eyes on the wanton destruction caused by Dagon’s army. Even facing werewolves and vampires, seeing the very worst offered by mortals and oblivion unlike was nothing compared to the overwhelming fear and anxiety that I felt when I laid eyes on the standards of the approaching Legion.“Oh no.”Martin seemed confused and both he and his attending bodyguards suddenly looked concerned for my health as I felt all the blood drain from my face and began shaking. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”“The 14th... That’s the 14th…”“The 14th?”“Yes.” My mouth was dry, tongue feeling like it had been filled with sand and I was resisting the urge to duck down and hide behind the battlements. “My old Legion.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“I truly don’t understand you sometimes, Mrannd’ssinss.” Viconia practically growled as we made our way down one of the main roads cutting through the heart of Bruma. “I have seen you attack the most terrifying of creatures on the surface without the slightest hesitation and yet now you are cowering like an infant faced with a hungry wolf.”“It’s not that simple.”The snort from one of the others walking alongside me almost conveyed as much emotion as Viconia’s words did, but he wasn’t content with leaving it at that. “I agree with Viconia on this one lad. You certainly don’t have a yellow streak and this is unlike you.”Sparing only a momentary glance to Iglund Burdlam, Captain of the Bruma City Guard and ex centurion to the 14th Legion and myself, I tried to keep the scowl from my expression or meet either of their gazes. The weight of their disapproval was immense but I continued on regardless, following the rest of the group we were part of without pause.“They were my friends and comrades and I left them. I can’t just take all that back.”“And we all know that you didn’t leave without cause. Oblivion damn it all lad, you’re a Blade! Even if you were an actual deserter it still wouldn’t stop them from accepting you back. They would be happy enough knowing you were alive and still in one piece.”I didn’t correct him and I could feel Viconia’s gaze as we walked. It had been over a week since the 14th Legion had arrived at Bruma and I had spent every waking moment doing everything within my power to avoid them. The guilt was incredible and was eating me inside knowing that the men and women who had I lived and fought alongside for years were less than an hour’s walk away from me at any given moment, and that the last I had seen any of them was the day before I decided to climb down Fort Ironhand’s ramparts and vanish into the night. They all would have been told how I had been caught and sent back to the Imperial City and there wasn’t a single legionary within the entire bounds of the Empire who wouldn’t assume that to be anything more than a death sentence.The worst part in my mind was that I was struggling to justify my decision. It was certainly something that I had gone out of my way avoiding thinking about and especially discussing with Viconia in the previous months. Things had been bad within the 14th, especially when Legate Quintillius had decided to make Fort Ironhand and the 8th Casta his personal command but the more I dwelled on it the more that it didn’t sit right with me. Whether it was because of the time that had passed having dulled the memories of that part of my life, or whether it was honestly not as bad as it appeared at the time I really couldn’t understand why. Now with such physical representations of my old life present it was destroying me from within.“I visited them a few nights ago.” Burd added as the silence between us threatened to continue. “Many new faces in the cohort but there are still many of the old hands there.”Feeling the surge of nausea induced sickness roll in my belly I struggled not to show my sudden apprehension. “Did you tell them about me?”“Oblivion no. That is not my responsibility, that is something that you have to do yourself.”The momentarily relief was dashed as Burd replied, and for the moment I tried to hide it in the fact that I was still limping from the oblivion-induced weakness. It didn’t work though, as Viconia rolled her eyes and snarled in annoyance.“Gather some of that courage you have shown all this time and go and talk to your friends. They deserve to know that you are still alive.”“I thought the Drow didn’t believe in friendship and allies.”As soon as the words left my mouth I knew that they were a mistake but my anxiety and bitterness made me speak them nonetheless. Viconia’s expression was one of dark anger as she turned the full force of her personality in my direction, underlining her emotions with a slap on the back of my head.“I have learned much in my travels, unlike you, wael. I understand the value of friends. Alexi is my friend. Falid, Mazoga, Carodus, even Detane are my allies and comrades in arms. You are my lover and the one of the only people who I truly trust in all of this world, but by Shar you test me sometimes.”Burd tried his best not to look at either of us as we continued on but he still nodded in agreement to Viconia’s words. The past days had allowed the two of us time to properly catch up as even during the times where Viconia and I had stayed at Cloud Ruler we never really had spent time within Bruma itself. It was a considerable difference since the last time that we had seen each other, where the deserter brand on my arm was still fresh and Viconia was a convicted murderer but it was enjoyable spending time with an old friend.The day after I had awoken from my coma he had heard through his connections as Captain of the Guard that I was awake and had appeared at the hospice with a jug of Colovian Brandy hidden from the prying eyes of the healers. While the alcohol definitely didn’t assist with my slowly dissipating weakness it certainly helped my mood as the two of us sat down and traded stories like it hadn’t been over a year since he had helped me and released Viconia. There was no doubting the amused pride that he was filled with the knowledge of Viconia and myself being members of the Blades, believing that he had been right about Viconia and myself all along and had made the right decision. Neither of us, nor any of the other members of the Blades or the rare few other individuals who knew the truth would ever dissuade him otherwise. It was better for all of us involved that he believed that he had assisted a pair of Imperial agents in completing important missions, rather than the truth that he had released a woman who had brutally murdered a pair of misogynistic rapists and helped an legion deserter evade recapture.I could see this measure of pride as we walked along the street, even as I limped my way along trying not to feel as abashed as I actually was from their opinions. I knew that they were both right, but the understanding didn’t make the fear of having to go and face my past any easier to bear.A darkened expression from one of the others of our larger party made the three of us fall silent, but as the road spread out into a massive courtyard area the sights within silenced us all. Viconia, Burd and myself were but a few of the people accompanying Martin and some of the highest ranking commanders of Bruma’s defenders. If it wasn’t for the fact that I had spent the past months commanding a Knightly order and spending time around the likes of Dukes and Barons, the fact that I was surrounded by Tribunes, Blades, Guard Commanders and even a Legate would have been unnerving.As they had on the day’s prior, Martin and Legate Xemseus had inspected the newest of Bruma’s defenders. Militia levies were being equipped and prepared for training in batches, and every few days a new group or two of fighters would appear. Mercenaries, both affiliated and not with the Fighters guild had been appearing, eager to take Imperial coin for their services. Bruma’s coffers were going to look considerably emptier at the end, but Countess Narvain seemed to be determined to do anything that ensured the survival of her city.My first sight of the latest mercenaries and militia to join the ranks of so many other before them definitely confirmed that times were truly dire. As one of the largest spaces available within the city, the training courtyard for the guard was more than large enough to hold the entire strength of a legion, but the numbers that awaited us were a far cry from that. Closest to us were a handful of ragged ranks of men and women, humans and mer alike dressed in whatever scraps of armour and armed with whatever they had managed to acquire. The tanners and fellmongers, like most of the city craftsmen were working unceasingly to churn out arms and armour but time was truly against us.Just over two hundred militia awaited us, a handful of guards and legionaries from the 9th with them in their roles as commanders and trainers and they certainly were not wasting their time for us to arrive. In small groups they were banded together, the more experienced, professional soldiers doing their best to teach them what limited skills they could in such a short space of time. It was heartening to see in some ways, but difficult to ignore the knowledge that these few amateurs were going to be among the number expected to face an army of daedra.Like the men and women wielding them, there were no professional weapons to be see among their number. The stocks from the city armouries had long since been emptied of everything that wasn’t consumed by age and rust, and for the past two weeks at least the newest recruits were equipped with whatever was at hand. Carpentry mallets, farmer’s sickles, cleavers, pitchforks, knives, lumber axes, scythes, spears, hammers, and threshing flails could be seen and none that I could see were uniform in any way. The only true unifying factor of them all was that they all were still volunteers at least, and somehow they were all wearing some kind of armour.It was an impossible task to equip an entire county’s worth of soldiers with legitimate armour, but myself and many of the others who had spent time within the legion knew that the like of chainmail and plate was not always needed or the best option. In fact, in these situations it would possibly have been detrimental to Bruma’s defenders if by some miracle there had been enough professionally made armour to outfit every man, woman and child. It took time to learn how to fight in armour and required the wearer to have considerable strength and endurance and so only those with suitable training or physiques had been gifted with the precious stocks. These men and women instead had been issued with various leather and cloth armours, typically padded or quilted gambesons and jackets and barely any metal to be seen.The desperation of the situation was not lost on any of us, especially those few brave enough to accept the call to arms. As yet Martin, the Countess, and even Legate Xemseus had all refused to conscript more soldiers. In many ways it was somewhat a waste of time and effort to gather everyone available as even if every man, woman, child and pet was conscripted the daedric horde would still outnumber the defenders two to one. Instead it had been determined that quality was the only real choice.“Another excellent turnout, Legate. The people of Bruma as ever stand ready to defend against the machinations of Lord Dagon.” Despite her statue and obviously lack of military background, there was no doubting the authority that Yvara Channite wielded. She was the steward of Bruma, in charge of all things administrative and political and answered only to the Countess and through her, Martin. If she had any qualms involving herself in a group of hardened soldiers and warriors she certainly wasn’t showing it.A brute of scales and horns, Legate Xemseus appeared somewhat outlandish in the polished ebony plate of a legion commander and turned his eyes in his reptilian skull to look at the petite woman walking alongside him. “I have no doubt steward, but I would have preferred that such measures were unnecessary.”“As we all.” Martin added, walking alongside the Legate with the Amulet of Kings clearly visible. “but we must continue to plan for the worst, while praying for the best.”It was hard to tell whether the Argonian commander of the 9th Legion was smiling, but there was something in his expression that extruded amusement. “Almost spoken like a true Legionary, your Highness. You’ve been hanging out with the right kinds of people.”While my introduction to Legate Xemseus had been limited and formal, the longer I spent in his presence the more I could feel my respect building for him. He was a no-nonsense commander who had climbed the ranks the hard way, and I had heard more than once how he was known for working, fighting or simply spending time with the men and women of the 9th. I knew it was fairly common for him to be found drinking with the lower ranks, or physically assisting in the construction of defences whenever his command responsibilities allowed him to. It was a far cry from what I was used to in commanders in the 14th by a considerable margin.Cities the size of Bruma were never quiet, especially for one under siege but there was considerable noise both within the training grounds and in the surrounding suburbs. Along the way we had seen signs of increasing unrest within the nearby suburbs, but the what we could hear close by was drowning out almost everything else around us. I didn’t know better I would have guessed that a small force of daedra had managed to infiltrate the city and were destroying everything in their path but this was no immortal force of destruction but rather a mortal one.While a pair of Tribunes from the 9th moved over to assess the militia, there were another two groups of armed beings who had also presented themselves for inspection. The militia may have been stereotypically ill disciplined, congregating into something in the approximation of a formation and various stages of dress, the second of the two groups made them members of the Praetorian Guard in comparison. What could only be described as a brawl was currently occurring within the second group, a group that everyone, militia, guard or otherwise were doing their best to keep a considerable distance away from.Guttural curses and insults were being thrown about almost as much as fists, and on at least one occasion a body and with almost as much force as the physical blows. The sounds of fists and feet impacting against flesh was painfully loud to hear, let alone watch as the brutal melee continued without any signs of stopping. In normal circumstances this sort of event would have been stopped by the guard, with no small amount of threat to their health but for the moment the cataclysmic brawl continued unabated.“Orcs.” Sighed one of the remaining tribunes as we all watched with a combination of amazement and horror at the band of orchish mercenaries fighting themselves. “We don’t need the likes of these.”“In fact.” Xemseus said, cutting off his subordinate and with his reptilian grin growing larger until all of his sharp teeth were revealed. “These are exactly the sort we need.”“A little undisciplined, are they not?” While he was the only one to admit it out loud, Jauffre’s simple statement was one that was mirrored by almost all of us.I watched as a particularly large specimen lifted one of his fellows above his head before bodily throwing him into a trio of others that bowled them over. Between the bellows and the shouted curses and swearing that rivalled anything I had heard in the legion there was also no ignoring the quantity of laughter from them all.“The Legions have all the discipline we need.” A scaled hand gestured between the half-formed ranks of the militia, the mob of baying greenskins and the other mercenary group doing its utmost to show that they weren’t part of the borderline riot in the centre of the grounds. “Against the likes of daedra we need beings willing and able to fight.”Seeing the way that the dozens of armoured greenskins appeared oblivion-bent to kill one another in the name of amusement I couldn’t help but agree with the Legate’s logic. Of the group of us, only Martin, Viconia and myself had true experience with what awaited us on Bruma’s plains and if anything, the orcs did indeed appear willing and capable of fighting such a foe.The other group however appeared to be the middle ground between the Legion and the militia, a force several dozen strong of mailed warriors from the north. Leathers and furs hung down over chain mail and plate, axes hung from belts and thick round shields were strapped to spines. While not arrayed in disciplined ranks there was something cold and aloof about these Nordic sellswords, and they watched us and the brawling orcs as though they were spectators who had paid for such entertainment. They were a mass of steel, tattoos, beards and braids, and several of them were chanting encouragement to the orcs as they continued their brawl with no signs of ceasing.It was only when we moved a little closer towards the pair of mercenary groups that the orcs seemed to notice our presence. At least some of them anyway, and an individual in particular was suddenly seen stomping through the press, barking guttural sounding words to some and physically intervening with others. While not the largest of the group, the authority that this particular orc had was undeniable, especially as they stopped one fight in particular by grasping the largest of the combatants by the head and knocking him out with a savage head-butt.There was amusement and wariness amongst the Imperial commanders as we watched this orc start marching over to us, followed somewhat closely behind by who obviously the leader of the Nords. Both appeared to be capable fighters and experienced warriors, but it was somewhat humorous to see the orc wipe blood from her face almost as an afterthought as she approached.“Your highness.” The Nord mercenary said as he approached, sparing a glance to the pair of heavily armoured and armed Blades standing alongside Martin. “I am Rafltheim Tarbensvessen of the Ironclad Company. We offer you our services and allegiance in these dark days.”The orc commander for her part looked unimpressed, eyeing each of us of us in turn with a face that appeared as though it had been used as a target for throwing knives and a punching bag for most of its life. The scars she wore were impressive and the only people I could think of who had just as many were Mazoga and Viconia, but it was almost difficult to look at her.“Lagaa Agumhash.” She said simply, not even bothering to formally introduce herself or show any form of subservience to the array of Imperial commanders.For a moment it appeared Rafltheim was taken aback from the other mercenary’s rudeness, and I saw and felt the prickling of emotions within the group around me. The only people who didn’t appear to be insulted or annoyed with the orc’s attitude were Xemseus, Martin, Burd, Viconia and myself. Viconia especially was grinning from ear to ear, showing a collection of white teeth and amusement at how the others were being rankled.Bruma’s steward, Yvara was reacting as one would expect for a Colovian noblewoman when faced with a being such as Lagaa. She stifled her attempts to gag, stepped backwards with a look of disbelieving disgust on her face and tried her best to cover her face with a silken handkerchief.“God’s above, do you not have any manners?”A scarred lip curled up around a broken tusk and Lagaa turned her full gaze upon the woman who she easily outweighed twice over. Three times if her thick orichalcum plate armour was included. “Manners are for servants and I’d wager you have enough of those. We don’t lick boots.”“Just where do your allegiances lay?” Yvara snapped back, her voice somewhat muted by the way she was covering her nose. As someone with vampiric senses I could understand her reasoning, as my mind was cast back to the memory of weeks in Blackmarsh seeking the Shield of the Crusader from what I could smell.The grin grew larger on the orc’s face, as though she was amused by the fact that a woman who barely came up to her chest was holding her ground. It was almost laughable at the sight of the Imperial noble standing up to a sellsword who’s biceps were as wide as the steward’s hips.“To the highest bidder.” The deep chuckle was threatening almost by itself, but for most within our group we were not easily intimidated.Without even blinking an eye, Martin turned, the movement drawing the attention of the orc away from Bruma’s steward. Unlike the others in the group there was not a trace of emotion on his face, only a deep seated confidence that I wondered whether was entirely false or not. “I can offer ten septims for everyone under your command, and a further twenty each at the end of the contract.”The grin this time was unmistakable and even more savage than before. “Silver?”“Gold.”“That makes you the highest bidder.” Lagaa practically growled with pleasure. “For that price we can attack the portals head on if you want.”“I don’t believe that will be necessary, but you will get your fill of battle in the coming days.”“Are you quite certain, your majesty?” Determined not to be cowed by Lagaa’s presence, Yvara was trying her best to hold onto what little authority she had with the orcish mercenary. “For that price we could get many more from the north.”Nodding respectively to Martin, Xemseus was still grinning and appearing even more amused than before. “These groups will do nicely.” He hissed as the two mercenary leaders turned back to their respective groups. The cheer from the orcs in particular was deep and rattled windows of the nearest building and the sudden chanting was almost blood curdling with its intensity.“But…”With a scaled hand the Legate made a gesture to the orcs who were busy riling themselves up and it didn’t take long before another series of ‘friendly’ fights broke out. “Besides their obvious willingness to fight and their potential discipline issues, what is something you notice about them all?”The remaining handful of Tribunes who hadn’t attached themselves to the two groups of mercenaries or the militia looked between each other with long-suffering expressions. Xemseus was the type of leader who spent every minute attempting to impart wisdom on those junior to him and this was yet another one of those opportunities.“Their arms and armour.” I said softly, but mouthing the words was more than enough to inadvertently catch the Legate’s attention.“Yes, Sir Desin?”Clearing my throat and feeling the swathe of eyes that turned to regard me standing towards the rear of the group, I too gestured between the orcs and the Nords. “Their arms and armour, Legate.”“And what is special about them?”Trying my best not to feel intimidated by the fact that I had most of the highest ranking members of the 9th Legion staring and listening, I somehow managed to keep the tremor from my voice. “As equipment goes it’s all nothing special; typical orichalcum make from Orsinium or their strongholds. Most looks fairly old and used, but they are immaculate.” One of the orcs went down hard when its opponent landed a blow to its face that left its nose bleeding and I couldn’t help but wince. “For the most part.”“What importance is that?” Yvara asked suddenly, still trying to determine whether the wind was right for her to lower the perfumed handkerchief from her face to aid her against the smell of unwashed bodies.“They are no strangers to fighting, that’s fairly obvious but despite the way that they look after themselves, both as individuals and as a group their weapons and armour are perfectly cared for. Lagaa’s armour was dented and beaten up for sure, but there wasn’t a trace of rust of anything beyond superficial damage in the slightest.”“The Iron Company’s armour is spotless as well.” She continued, looking between us all as Xemseus hissed in pleasure.“Indeed they are but they lack any signs of being in a fight at all.” The Argonian Legate was nodding thoughtfully as he looked over the assembled forces. “Rafltheim’s accent sounds too formal and smooth. Maybe a noble’s son or the like, but he’s definitely a blueblood. He and his men probably haven’t seen anything bigger than scaring off bandits, but Lagaa and her troop there look like they have already fought against the daedra, won and are looking at round two. Personally, a knight in shining armour is a man who hasn't had his mettle tested.”His gaze turned back to me and there was amusement as he nodded to me before looking at Jauffre standing in his Blades armour. “Always count on a Blade and a Forester to pick up on the little details. You choose your agents well, Spymaster.”“I try to at least.” Jauffre replied, returning the grin and slightly smirking in my direction.“So, Madame Steward. I heard that there was to be four groups submitting themselves this morning.”The flush that crept up Yvara’s cheeks could have easily been explained by the way she finally removed the silken cloth from her face, but there was an edge of nervousness that couldn’t be explained. “No. There isn’t any more. There were only these three scheduled today.”“That’s not what I was told.” All of us were left looking between the two Imperial officials and even Martin and Jauffre were looking somewhat confused at what was going on. “Tribune Sylond?”“They will be here shortly.” Replied the younger looking Bosmer officer, her armour polished to a mirror’s shine.“An explanation please, Legate?” Martin said, trying his best not to show his building confusion that was mirrored among us all.“Apparently there has been a group that has been wanting to present themselves for inspection for the past two days, but the Steward had made that decision for us.”“They are not suitable.” Yvara spluttered suddenly, the dawn of realisation appearing on her face.“Just as Lagaa’s band wasn’t suitable?” The expression the Legate suddenly wore was not as jovial as the one that he had moments before and it contained the full power of a being with a twentieth of Tamriel’s greatest military under his command. “I am sorry Madame steward, but decisions of a military nature are not yours to make.”Suitably rebuked, the Legate turned away from the Steward and moved a short distance towards one of the few roads leading into the militia quarters, pulling the rest of the group along like flotsam. Martin was trying his best not to look confused or uneasy about what was going on, but he held onto it well in front of the others. Jauffre and the rest of us however were not so easily contained.“I’m not a big fan of surprises, Legate.” The aged Spymaster said, raising his voice slightly to be hear over the increasing noise of the orcs standing in a circle chanting.“There is nothing to be concerned about, I promise you that.”“I would like an explanation though.” Martin’s tone was colder than normal but there was still a considerable sense of familiarity between him and the Argonian legion commander.“Very well, your Majesty. Yesterday one of my tribunes were approached by a member of a group who wished to aid us in the defence of the city. Normally they would have come here like all of the others but the Steward and castle guard have been actively working against them and stopping them from coming.”My glance at Burd’s face told me everything I needed to know. This was news to him as well but it wasn’t all that surprising. He was only the captain of the city guard and while that position was of considerable rank and power he was not in command of all of the soldiers in Bruma. The Castle and the Countess had their own dedicated force, a retinue consisting of several dozen men-at-arms with their own captain who reported directly to the Countess and the Steward.“They are not suitable.” Yvara said coldly, doubling down on her opinion and standing her ground despite being the centre of attention to a Legate, leader of the Blades and a man wearing the Amulet of Kings.“We shall see.” Xemseus eyes lingered on the smaller woman for a moment before turning and waiting with his customary crocodilian grin appearing.After the first few minutes of awkward silence where some of us spent our time being entertained by the way the hapless Tribunes assigned to the orcs attempted to instil some kind of order. Xemseus utterly refused to explain any further about what was going on, instead standing and waiting with a being with unlimited patience as Yvara quietly steamed with her annoyance.Soon, slowly the sound of armoured feet on cobblestones reached our ears and one by one the entire group twitched with anticipation as it built. Not even the slightest hint of relaxation could be seen in Xemseus’ grin as the noise from the approaching force grew louder, but I saw the way that he visibly stiffed as the first armoured soldier came into view.A small group of legionaries from the 9th led the procession, providing escorts for the column at their backs to allow them access to the militia quarters. Yvara’s expression could only be described as cold as she burned holes into the back of the Legate’s skull with her gaze, but for the rest of us we were left amazed at what we saw. What was undoubtedly an entire cohort of legionaries were marching in perfect order into the training grounds, flanked and escorted by members of the 9th and it was difficult not to feel surprised at their appearance.“They don’t appear to be yours, Legate.” Jauffre said as the cohort entered the grounds, and Xemseus hissed with amusement.“Some of them were.” He said cryptically but by now they were all close enough for us to see details.Gasps were easily heard over the sound of metal-shod feet marching in time, and the appearance and sound was even enough to gain the attention of the band of orcs who stopped in mid blow to watch. Expressions of amazement and surprise was painted on everyone in sight, and it was easy to see why.The cohort that arrived definitely didn’t belong to the 9th, or the 14th, but as Xemseus had stated there were members within that had definitely been members of both during their lives. Without any doubt in my mind I knew that the legionaries of the cohort had once belonged to each and every Legion, but it would have been many years since they all had last served.They were old, universally so but age didn’t stop their bodies from marching or moving in formation with their equipment. White hair and beards hung down from under helmets of numerous makes and designs, weapons and shields were clasped to hands covered in liver spots and consumed with arthritis and for many age had consumed muscles and hunched shoulders but their backs were tall and proud.Many such as Burd, Carodus Oholin, Avita Vesnia and those who had lived long enough to retire or had left the Legion due to crippling injuries had lived their own lives, growing older, raising families or making something of themselves as citizens of the Empire. But, as those same men and women had shown it was very easy for someone to leave the Legion, but impossible for the Legion to leave them. Bruma was home to many retirees from the Legion’s service and it appeared that a good number of them had chosen to take up arms once more.At the bellowed commands from one of their number, they came to a cobblestone shattering halt, before turning as one to turn their three-wide column into three ranks of several dozen each. Not a single movement or motion was out of place or timed differently, showing that the years and decades since they had served had not dulled the memories ingrained into their muscles.Martin’s face was one of amazement, as were the rest of us as he pointedly looked at Legate Xemseus but the Argonian simply smiled even more.The individual who had called the cohort’s halt and other orders broke ranks, moving over to us in full armour and equipment and it was impossible not to notice the enormous horsetail adorning the plate helmet. The armour was also functionally identical to Legate Xemseus’, if considerably older and the being wearing it was tall, and still considerably well-built despite her age.A few short metres away from our group, the commander of the retirees came to a solid stop, the metal of her armour chiming as she saluted with a fist across the chest. “The Brumian 1st Cohort is ready for inspection, your Majesty.”Carefully, and somewhat awkwardly Martin returned the salute as was expected of something in his position, although his eyes were passing between Xemseus and the newest arrival.“Ravea Thilinore.” The Argonian Legate said as way of introduction. “Legate of the 18th Elsweyrian Legion.”“Formerly.” She added, providing a smile from within open face of her armoured helm.Even for an Altmer, Ravea was old. Among the Mer the High Elves were known for the long lifespans and unless taken by plague or violence could easily live for several centuries. It was not unheard of for Elven legionaries to rise through the ranks and serve for much, much longer than the mandated thirty years and those who survived were not to be trifled with.“You command these legionaries?” Martin asked carefully, the surprise quickly fading from his expression.“Not exactly, your Majesty.” Her reply was smooth and relaxed and showed her years of experience of dealing with higher ranking officials within the Empire. “We all may have served in the legion but we no longer hold any official rank. I only gave them the necessary orders to be able to march here.”“What is your strength?” Xemseus asked, quickly striking at the heart of the matter.“One hundred and forty-seven.” Came the reply without any hesitation. We originally numbered just shy of three hundred but there are many willing men and women who we had to turn away.”Martin managed to quickly conceal the expression that started to creep onto his face but some of the others with us weren’t as controlled. Before the snide comments began Ravea was already looking about the group with the cold, calculating eyes and was more than experienced enough to know what was running through everyone’s minds.“Yes, we are all old. Yes, the better parts of our lives are behind us. Most of those who have served the Empire have died in the Legion’s service. These men and women are the ones who survived.” The momentary pause allowed some of her words to sink in, as well as the emotion behind them. “There were many willing to march into war but we all made the unanimous decision to determine who were the most suitable and capable. We are the Empire’s finest and we are not going to let Bruma fall while we still live.”There was no sign that Xemseus’ grin was going to fade anytime soon, but he and all of the others were watching Martin carefully as it was ultimately his decision.“Legate Xemseus. Will you accompany me in inspecting the cohort?”I along with several of the others within the group felt satisfaction at Martin’s decision and I knew that the Legion Commanders’ respect for him subtly increased as a result. With little more than a nod, both Legates, current and former took up their positions and followed in Martin’s steps, accompanied by the pair of armoured Blades in their Akaviri armour the whole way.“How many veterans are living in Bruma?” I said quietly to Burd, who was standing with a half-smile on his face as Martin and the others slowly made their way along the formed ranks.“A couple of thousand at least.” He replied. “I’d wager a lot of money that nearly all of them volunteered before they whittled themselves down to this.”It was too easy to agree with him. There was something about serving in the Legion that instilled a unique set of ethics; a code that almost all members were bound by. It was this code that the likes of Carodus Ohlin, Avita Vesnia, and the twins Geimund and Gukimir had followed when they sought out the Order of the Nine, and it was certainly this same code that had assembled a cohort and a half’s worth of veterans to fight for the Empire once more.They were certainly veterans, and there was no doubting that fact. It was impossible except for perhaps the most talented of spies and assassins to portray the mannerisms of those who served, and for these men and women they extruded confidence of decades of service. Barring those with injuries that would have forced them to retire, most would have spent a full three decades in their respective Legions and with a glance I knew that there were few in the cohort who hadn’t. A quick equation in my mind of estimating their combined experience gave me a total of well over four thousand years of service, a number that was sobering and more than enough to give me a chill.Men and women of all races were present within the cohort. Elves, men, Argonians, Khajiit and Orcs all stood side by side, each wearing armour that while similar showed their specific legions in which they had served. Some wore lighter chainmail and cloth for the hotter climates of Elsweyr and Hammerfell, others were clad in thicker armour plates of the Northern or Cyrodillic legions. Each and every single one of them had kept their arms and armour since their retirement, storing them away in attics, trunks or perhaps even atop mantelpieces or hearths as they lived through their twilight years. Not a single one of them however had appeared to have hesitated in unpacking leather grown brittle and dry in storage, polishing armour plates to a mirror’s shine or scrubbing the rust from chainmail. As I studied some of them more closely I had serious doubts that Burd or any living centurion could have found fault with their armour.Not that there weren’t enough centurions within their ranks. From where we stood I counted no less than thirty wearing the coloured plumes of those who had once commanded cohorts, sixteen who had led entire castas and the rest were a collection of Praefects and Triarii. I couldn’t think of any time that I had seen so many legionaries wielding hastae spears within a single unit before, as typically they made up less than a tenth of any given cohort. Nearly three quarters of them carried the three-metre-long spears and I knew that while their age would work against them, I definitely knew that I wouldn’t want to face these men and women in battle.The largest concern though was undoubtedly their age. In the Order of the Nine there were concerns about Carodus and his health and he was in his mid-fifties. The Legion’s had a habit of inflicting greater wear and accelerated aging on its soldiers, and while the spirits were willing the flesh was an entirely different matter. This particular cohort however was on a different scale to Carodus, and in fact if he was standing among their number he would have been one of the more junior members.Only the numerous horsehair plumes on their helms showed any form of colour, as the beards and heads were almost universally silver or white. Some, despite their pride and will to stand tall were hunched over by the weight of the years they had lived and I could see how some of the more ancient of the legionaries were purposefully hidden within the middle rank. The average age I guess would have had to been within the mid to late sixties, and several were most likely closer to eighty than they were any other age.The sobering realisation sunk into my gut with its distinctive uncomfortableness and I understood what many of them were doing. Bruma was popular among the Nords who, like my friend Burd had chosen to retire there. Bruma was close enough to their homeland and families, but provided a much nicer climate and warmer winters. Most Nords as well, while following the pantheon of the Nine believed that for their souls to enter the Nordic afterlife they would have to die in battle. Many within the cohort would have donned their armour without fear or anxiety of what was to come as they knew that the journey to seeing their lifelong friends and comrades in the mead-halls of Sovngarde was almost at its end.For the others within the cohort, while they mightn’t have shared their Nordic comrade’s beliefs their reasons may have been more loyalty to the Empire. The more I thought on it however, the more it was likely that they were making a decision. They had watched their families grow up, their children mature and judging by how old they looked had welcomed grandchildren, perhaps even great grandchildren into the world. They were donning their arms and armour once more in service to their families and the city that they called home, but within the pragmatic heart of each of these veteran legionaries there was also the burning desire to meet death on their own terms, and not to wait for it to come in their beds during some cold winter’s night.And, deep underneath it all there would have been the bitter understanding of what the city was truly facing. Not a single soul within its walls hadn’t heard of the daedric horde roaming the plains to the south or didn’t understand what that meant. The fates of Kvatch, Al’drun and several other cities were infamous and seeing the retired veterans standing resplendent before us was just further evidence. They were making the choice of dying for the city, or with the city and each and every one of them had chosen to meet their deaths head on in battle.After exchanging a brief collection of words with an enormous pahmar-rhat in siege plate whose fur was faded to the colour of snow, Martin and the two Legates returned to the rest of us once more. Martin’s face was as cold and inscrutable as a glacier, expressions that were shared between the rest of us as we waited for his judgement. Without a glance to the cohort standing proudly at his back, he nodded, the whisper of a smile playing over his lips before he looked at the Argonian by his side.“They will serve Bruma well.” He said after a moment’s pause, and Xemseus’ good hearted grin was more savage than I had ever seen it before.Turning to Ravea on his opposite side, the crack in Martin’s expression had grown to an actual smile. “I know that this is a considerable demotion, but would you consider being the commander of the 1st Brumian Cohort?”“Without a doubt, your Majesty.” Came the instant response, showing the utter lack of hesitation from the aged High Elf.“Very well. Fall in Centurion.”The sound of metal striking metal echoed loud enough to startle some of the militia watching with keen interest as Ravea saluted with a gauntlet against her breastplate. The expressions on the entire cohort were ones of savage pride and success as she marched back to them, and before she had even made it a handful of paces her steps were soon being punctuated with a metallic crack of steel on stone and wood. Each and every one of the cohort were rhythmically knocking the steel hafts of their spears into the stones under their feet, or their shields against their chests. It was a sound that sent a stiffening chill up the spines of myself and all those who heard it, especially those who knew its significance. The Legion didn’t fight battles in a wave of noise or battlecries, and all that their foes would hear before battle was joined was that rhythmic, metallic beating accompanying the drums of war.It was however not the only sound that we could all hear, as the noise from the nearby suburbs had been growing louder and louder since our arrival. The city was anxious and groaning under the pressure of so many new arrivals but this noise was that of fear and reaction, of unease that was turning into unrest and it wasn’t that surprising to me when hoofbeats reached our ears only a few moments before their source did.Wheeling his steed in close, the messenger was one of the numerous members of the city guard with his gold surcoat waving around his knees and his horse panting deeply from its sprint through the streets. “Captain Burdlam!”I could see the expression on Burd’s face even as he wiped it clean with years of practice as a Centurion, turning and gesturing for the messenger who didn’t seem to bother dismounting. “What is it Stefario?”“There’s a situation. A riot has broken out in the merchant’s quarter.”“That’s Sergeant Patnevius’ command, he should be able to handle it.”Visibly sweating despite the morning cool, the young guardsman nodded feverishly under the sudden and intense scrutiny from both his Captain and the numerous officials in the immediate area. “I understand sir, but it was Sergeant Patnevius who sent me. They are outnumbered and need immediate assistance.”“Against a riot?”Burd’s body language changing was all that I needed to see to know that the situation was serious. Burd had just over fifteen hundred guards under his command broken into cohort sized units. For one of those units to not be able to handle a riot meant that it was truly serious but Stafario wasn’t finished being the bearer of bad news.“Yes sir.” There was a moment’s pause as he visibly swallowed. “The 14th Legion is looting the city.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“The 14th is doing what?”The snap in Legate Xemseus’ voice was more than enough to startle anyone not accustomed to it, and the mounted guardsman twitched in the saddle as he gained the full of attention of one of the most powerful beings in the Empire.“Looting sir. At least three casta's worth are going door to door in the merchant’s quarter and taking everything that they can carry. The riot has broken out as a result but its anarchy in there. Sergeant Patnevius is heavily outnumbered and needs all the help he can get.”Shock overwhelmed everyone for at least the briefest of moments, mouths falling open in surprise and eyes looking to their neighbours as though seeing someone else would be enough to break them out of this dream they had suddenly entered. I took was shocked to the core, barely even hearing the sudden collection of questions that barraged the poor guardsman from a multitude of sources before Burd and Xemseus managed to overrule them.“Three castas? Where is the rest of the 14th?”“It appears they are breaking camp sir. They started doing that shortly before the cohorts entered the city but there hasn’t been any explanation to what is going on.”“The Hist take them.” Growled Xemseus, snarling like a caiman from the depths of Blackmarsh. “What gate is closest to the merchant quarters?”“East.” Replied Burd, already understanding what train of thought the Argonian Legate was following. “But its quicker through the north gate and down the main arterial road.”“Understood.” A flick of the head to one of the several Tribune still standing with us was more than enough to catch the man’s attention. “Breal. Find a horse and get back to the 9th. I want 1st and 2nd castas now. Get the rest of the 9th to go to the 14th’s camp and find out what is going on.”The inherent meaning behind his words was more than enough. Both Legions had now found themselves pitted against each other, but for the moment at least it didn’t appear set down the path towards bloodshed. For the 14th to be breaking camp meant only one real thing; they were preparing to leave.“Legate, I must advise against bringing more legionaries into the city.” Burd said with only a moment’s hesitation. “Most of the city’s population won’t be able to tell the difference between members of the 9th or 14th and any troops you deploy will simply become targets, or worse start fresh riots.”Xemseus was already moving, transforming from the calm, cold blooded reptile into one of force and vigour but he stopped in mid motion, eyes watching and studying Burd and a gesture holding Tribune Breal in mid step. “What would you suggest?”“The guard will be able to deal with the rioting and the civilians once I deploy more to the area, but only if the cause is dealt with. If the 14th is looting, then that needs to stopped and quickly.”“Understood. It will be difficult to handle Legionaries without other Legionaries, Captain.”“Not necessarily. I doubt that the 14th is suffering from a lack of discipline which means that they will still respond to authority.”“I can assist in that regard.” Jauffre said softly, but his words carried over the growing excitement nonetheless. “If Legionaries are going to become targets, I doubt that the locals will retaliate against the Blades and the men of the 14th will listen to them as well.”“Most likely. If anything the presence of a few Blades will give them pause at least. They may buy us enough time to redeploy the guard.”Jauffre nodded, turning and gazing at one of the handful of Blades accompanying Martin and himself who immediately saluted and ran off. The entire order was present in the city, quartered within the vicinity of the towering cathedral of Talos which was also thankfully close to the merchant’s district but there would be little time to lose in such a situation.“Are you able to assist, Sir Desin? How are you feeling?”Jauffre’s words snapped me out of my stupor of surprise and shock from the situation and I felt myself blinking as I turned. “I’m still not at my peak, but I am capable.”“Good. We will have need of you. Both of you.” He said, gesturing between Viconia and myself as he turned back to Legate Xemseus who was giving further orders to the remaining Tribunes with him. “Legate, may I suggest that Madame DeVir and Sir Desin escort you to the site of the unrest? Having the Heroes of Kvatch with someone such as yourself should allow you to intervene.”“A suitable suggestion. We need to put a stop to whatever they are doing in the city before it turns to bloodshed. Xemseus was gesturing and hissing orders to his subordinates even as he took part and listened to the conversation. “Where the fuck is Quintillius?”At the mere mention of the name of the 14th’s Legate I felt a customary chill. The man who had been one of the leading causes of my desertion from his Legion was enough to fill me with dread but Xemseus’s Tribunes and even Jauffre shook their heads or shrugged in response.“He was overseeing the defensive preparations on the east wall this morning.”Turning his eyes to the Tribune who had spoken, Xemseus gave a single, sharp nod. “Find him. I want to know what in the name of the Hist and the Nine he’s playing at here. This doesn’t feel right to me.” His attentions turned away from his subordinates and shifted to Viconia and myself, the mask of professionalism sliding down over his reptilian features. “Sir Desin, Madame DeVir, let’s move.”With only a handful of the other commanders of the 9th in tow, the group of us began moving as quickly as we could in the direction of the building noise and activity within the city’s streets and buildings. Even from several blocks away we could hear the echoes of emotion, the cries of a city of tens of thousands reacting to he never before experienced eventMy body was aching, limbs burning as though I had been running for hours as we marched briskly in the direction of the building riots. The accursed weakness of my body had not yet faded and while I was considerably healthier than I had been in the days prior I was still far from my full strength. Only the thought that unless things took an exceptionally bad turn for the worse there wouldn’t be any fighting gave me any semblance of confidence, as the knowledge that I would be soon face-to-face with members of my old legion was leaving me feeling weaker than my trip into Oblivion ever could.It was the crowds that first drew our attention and proved just how bad the situation was deteriorating. Hundreds of the citizens of Bruma were packed between the buildings, pressed shoulder to shoulder and while most appeared to be fuelled by curiosity there was a lot of anger and resentment within the press. All around us windows and doors were being fastened by those who dwelled within them as the sounds of conflict and unrest grew louder, and closer to their homes and businesses. Curtains were drawn, children ushered inside and there were dozens who, unlike the rest of the crowds were hastily moving in the opposite direction to the Merchants district. Some of these people took one look at our small Legate’s entourage, the dark expressions and mirrored armour as we moved with distinct purpose and simply increased their attempts to put distance between themselves and the riots, but many more were looking at us with suspicion or anger.That anger however was being tempered by our appearances, especially that of Xemseus as he was practically a rolling thundercloud storming his way through the streets. Even for a being lacking the relevant muscles for humanoid facial expressions it was clear to everyone with the merest glance that he was simmering with rage. It was a controlled rage however, one of a deep seated fury that he was using to drive him ever onwards in the direction of the noise.Trailing in the legate’s wake, we all tried to keep up with his momentum as he stormed ever onwards. His two remaining tribunes, and Viconia and myself were following rather than accompanying Xemseus in his drive towards the source of the unrest. My relative weakness was also not proving beneficial as I was lagging somewhat behind but a combination of vampirism and mortal willpower allowed me to keep up but I was surprisingly aided by the increasing number of people in the growing crowds the closer we got to the merchants’ quarter. For every three people that appeared to be moving away from the area, there were two that moved closer and hundreds were filling the spaces between the buildings. Roads were blocked, streets and alleys congested and rising above it all was the increasing noise of a city preparing to tear itself apart.In customary fashion, Xemseus and his tribunes saw the obstacle of packed humanity near the source of the unrest and didn’t even slow. His custom forged helm with enormous plume of horsehair was clasped down tight over his reptilian skull, proving him with a towering presence that was assisted by his bearing and manner as he moved into the crowd. Strangely enough there wasn’t much need for any of us to raise our voices to demand passage, as the press seemed to instinctively register our presence the deeper we moved, and like a school of abecean longfins faced with a group of slaughterfish they parted with an undue haste.However, there was no doubting that this was indeed a riot. Insults and anger were being thrown through the air and the chanting of the mob was becoming blood curdling with the raw emotion flowing through it. For the most part those within the crowd were predominately peaceful and simply letting their grievances be known with other like-minded individuals, but closer to the heart of the merchants’ quarter it was much more physical. It was here that the crowd was thickest, over twelve deep in places but with a very noticeable and obvious edge provided by two armoured ranks of legionaries.The surge of anxiety I felt was impossible to ignore as I caught glimpses of the armoured members of the 14th. It was all too impossible not to notice the gleaming metal armour, made from numerous metal bands that overlapped themselves in unique form of protection and it was especially impossible not to see the legion symbol embossed on their shields. A stylised depiction of a roaring volcano was centred heavily in the 14th’s symbology, representing Red Mountain and the ties that my old Legion had to Vvardenfell and a wall of these had formed across the breadth of the road to block access.“Soldiers!” Barked Xemseus as he practically shouldered his way through the press. Eyes had been turning towards his appearance within the depths of the crowd from his presence and appearance, but now even those whose hearts were burning with unrest turned.Even if the unrest had devolved into a full-blown riot there would have been little that would have been able to drown out the Legate’s voice, a voice that had considerable experience bellowing orders in the heat of a battle. It cut through the air like a knife, stilling many of the civilians closest to us and leaving the entire shield wall shuddering with the ingrained discipline as they reacted without thought. The last few meters between us and the legionaries was suddenly vacated with almost undue haste, leaving us with the sight of dozens of legionaries, their shield wall suddenly falling slack as they found themselves face to face with a Legate.Despite the renowned discipline of the common legionaries, very few would have preferred to have found themselves directly dealing with the highest authority besides the Emperor. Xemseus may not have been openly angry or showing his true emotions beyond a flint-like coldness but there was no doubting that his mood was not a nice one. The legionaries’ shields drooped and their straightened out of their shield-wall stances, sharing ‘oh shit’ expressions between themselves and suddenly looking anxious as the Argonian Legate continued advancing on them.“Where is your commanding officer?” He called out, again with his battle-experienced voice that silenced the simmering anger within the civilian crowd and echoed loud enough to be heard by all legionaries present. Curiosity was now warring for control over the emotions within the crowd and Xemseus was too experienced not to take advantage of such a situation.Pushing through from his position towards the rear of the formation, a centurion appeared in the front ranks with his scarlet plume fluttering with the motions. While not as large or ornate as Xemseus or his accompanying Tribune’s it was still more than enough to reveal his authority even before he replied to Xemseus’ question.“Sir! Tribune Creastyr is in command here.”“I didn’t ask who was in command Centurion. I was asking where he was.”Absolutely no emotion was apparent within Xemseus’ tone, but it was as cold as a glacier and almost as foreboding. To the Centurion’s credit he barely even blinked, instead nodding first to the Legate and then to the Legionaries occupying the shield wall who quickly made a gap.The crowd here at least was quietened, the simmering rage and indignation still lurking beneath the surface but now there was unbridled curiosity instead as we all stepped through the shield wall. It was all too easy to see why the riots were breaking out the way they had been as the men and women of the 14th were plundering almost everything they could in a systematic, precise manner.Several carts and wagons, mostly bearing marks and symbols of the 14th had been arrayed along the street and by now they were beginning to fill with goods. Despite the way how most legionaries were trained and expected to carry their equipment on their backs, every cohort would have half a dozen wagons assigned to them for carrying additional materials. These were invaluable for longer marches as it allowed the legion to carry all of the replacement weapons and armours, the materials for maintaining their capability to fight and the thousands of various other items that were used by people for simply surviving. Most legions would have specialised wagons as well, including a portable smelter and smithy which were invaluable for campaigning.It was near these wagons that a middle aged Breton stood in the armour of a tribune, directing handfuls of the legionaries who weren’t blocking access down the nearly roads and alleys in shieldwalls in the systematic pillaging of every building within sight. My heart was racing out of control being so close to members of my own legion, but these men and woman around me bore the marks of the 5th Casta rather than the 8th, which meant that outside of the few sword tournaments I had attended they would have never met me before.“Tribune! What in all that is holy are you doing?”Despite their difference in rank, the nerve of the Breton held and he stood tall, his face and impassive mask despite the attentions of two fellow Tribunes and a Legate. “Sir, we are following Legate Quintillius’ orders in requisitioning supplies for the 14th.”“Supplies?”“Yes sir. Our primary focuses are food and war materiel but we were also instructed to gather whatever other supplies would benefit the Empire.”“Like money?” A scaled thumb was thrown in the direction of one of the many carts and wagons groaning under the weight of the piled supplies. The barrels and crates of foodstuffs were obvious, but not as obvious as the lockboxes that took two legionaries to carry from the weight of gold and silver within them.The wax-like expression remained but I could see the cracks of emotion underneath it. The Tribune was following orders and it was all too easy to see the reluctance from him and those under his command. The temptation was there, but looting had been historically punished by death or decimation for the units responsible and there would have been few legionaries who didn’t have at least some qualms in committing such an act.“Legate Quintillius was specific in his orders, Sir.”The diplomacy within the Tribune’s tone was almost enough for me to forget my own anxiety and smirk. My own experiences with Quintillius was more than enough to know where his priorities were. Money was important to the noble-born Legate but not what could be considered the ‘traditional’ way. In the years since his promotion he had been oblivion-bent on working towards a political career, using his time and experience commanding a Legion as a stepping stone towards gaining a seat in the Elder Council. Using the 14th to gather whatever quantities of money they could would certainly assist in funding his election campaigns but ultimately this was ignoring the fact that there was a literal daedric horde standing between him and his political machinations.“From this moment you are all to cease what you are doing before the entire city tears itself apart and yourselves with it.”“Sir. But…”“No damn ‘buts’, Tribune. Stand. Down. At least take a break until I can speak to Legate Quintillius and coordinate this mess.”Xemseus was all too experienced and canny not to understand the loyalties of the members of different Legions. He may have been of higher rank than the Breton standing before him, but he was not within his direct chain of command. Tribune Creastyr could have had all the right to tell Xemseus to jump into Lake Rumare if he did so diplomatically, but Xemseus nipped anything of the like in the bud. The Tribune stared at him with experienced aloofness, before nodding once and looking around at the members of his casta.“Right, stand down you lot! We’ll hold position for the moment.”“You have my thanks, Creastyr.” Xemseus said with honest appreciation as he used the Tribune’s name for the first time.“I wouldn’t thank me to soon.” The Breton replied. “The 4th and 8th Castas are nearby with the same orders. We were given two hours to gather everything we could.”“How close are they?”“Only a street or two. We’ve kept our lines of communication open but the 8th is three streets that way.” His gesture was down one of the few streets that wasn’t occupied by a shieldwall or a gathered crowd of upset Brumians and I felt my heart grow cold at how close I was to my old comrades. “The 4th is a little closer but are deeper in the city.”Nodding thoughtfully, I could see Xemseus’ mind working through the details and the customary grin was starting to appear once again. “Do you know where your commander is?”“Legate Quintillius is in the city with us, sir. He should be supervising the 8th as we speak.”Something of how I felt must’ve revealed itself on my face as I saw Xemseus eyes flicker in my direction for a heartbeat. His thoughts were more focussed on the issues at hand however as his attention turned to his two Tribunes accompanying him.“Dudlf. You stay here with Tribune Creastyr as my liaison. Radmerea, take Sir Desin and Madame DeVir with you to the 4th. If you have any troubles with them, come find me.”Tribune Dudlf, a solidly built Redguard nodded once to his commander and Radmerea, a somewhat petite looking Dunmer who’s build belied her Legion-hardened body gave Viconia and I a glance almost for the first time. “Understood Sir.”“Do whatever you need to, just stop them until I sort this mess out.”I could feel Viconia’s gaze upon me as Tribune Radmerea turned and moved in the direction of the other Casta. I knew that my panic and anxiety had been threatening to overcome my expressions at a minimum, but I also couldn’t help but feel relieved when we were allocated to help deal with the 4th rather than the 8th. From my time in the Legion I knew a bit about the 4th Casta as I did with the others, but the risk of being identified by the others was much, much lower. The 8th Casta would have almost exclusively known me at a glance which was definitely not something that I wanted to occur at this time, especially if Legate Quintillius was also present at the time.“You were in the Legion, Sir Desin?”Tribune Radmerea’s attentions had turned to me very soon after we had left the Legate and the others behind. The three of us were moving quickly down the mostly deserted street in the direction of the 4th Casta. Judging by the sounds and the noise ahead of us they were not very far away at all.“Yes Tribune. I was once part of the 14th.”There was nothing in the Dunmer Tribune’s gaze as we continued on, moving at a speed that was hovering between a quick walk and a slow jog that left my muscles burning and throbbing in dull agony.“I understand the necessity for Agents to be within all parts of the Empire, but I don’t think that I could ever be happy with the knowledge that not all Legionaries are truly loyal to the Legions. It feels… dangerous.” Nothing could be seen of her true emotions as she kept control of her emotions with a cold will bred from years of service but I could tell that her words were not spoken with ill-intent. “How much can you tell me of the 4th Casta?”“A bit. They were stations at Fort Buckmoth between Ald’ruhn and Caldera on Vvardenfell. They were also the closest unit to the Ghostgate so they have experience in combatting the supernatural as well as dealing with the usual fighting between the houses Redoran and Hlaalu.”“So they are experienced then?”“All of the 14th is experienced in their own way.” I replied, with only a tiny bit of my Legion pride creeping into my voice.“I think knowing what I know now if I was given the choice between Vvardenfell and Solstheim I would choose Solstheim every time.” She was smiling, but it was a grim smile that reminded me of Viconia in more ways than one as we quickly neared the other casta. “I haven’t heard any good stories about fighting against the Corpus. Skaal are one thing, but you can’t fight a plague with a gladius.”Tribune Creastyr’s statement about the 4th being close by was accurate but it was impossible not to find another Casta within the streets of Bruma as between the 4th, 8th and Creastyr’s 2nd there was almost fifteen hundred legionaries occupying a handful of city blocks. The compressed nature of the merchants’ quarters also limited the available space and combined with the fact that a large portion of the city’s population was now increasingly hostile it was all too easy to find them.Like the other Casta the legionaries were arrayed in shieldwalls blocking the numerous streets, roads and alleys around their chosen location. Wagons had been drawn up into the interior of a smaller marketplace where a single cohort was busy with acquiring any goods and supplies that weren’t nailed to the ground. Their wagons had already been significantly filled in comparison to Creastyr’s. More than one was already groaning under the weight of filled barrels and crates and yet the legionaries were still bringing more to add to the growing piles.The Tribune was also very easy to find, the younger Redguard woman standing in the midst of her legionaries and directing them skilfully against the pressing crowds and to efficiently requisition supplies from the unwilling locals. Her face was pinched and grim as she ordered her troops about emotionlessly, and there was barely even a flicker of emotion as she registered our approach.“Tribune Radmerea of the 9th.” Our escort said as we got close enough for our voices to be heard over the anger of the nearby crowds. “We’re here under the authority of Legate Xemseus.”“Tribune Shardie of the 14th, and I don’t really care who you are. I’m here with the authority of Legate Quintillius and as you can see I have my hands full at the moment.”Her rudeness was understandable in many ways, as the situation these short blocks away from Tribune Creastyr was almost radically different. Her Legionaries in their shield walls weren’t simply acting as a buffer between their comrades and the city’s populace, they were actively under attack from an increasingly aggressive mob. The shields of the second rank were raised up high and were resting on the top of the shields in the front to form an angled wall of protection, a wall that was being assaulted by a hail of thrown fruit and produce and the occasional stone. Judging from what I could smell there had also been the occasional chamber pot hurled at the shield wall which was the source of the majority of cursing from the men and women of the Legion in the area.“Legate Xemseus has sent us with the instructions for you to cease your requisitioning for the moment until he and Legate Quintillius can discuss the situation.”The snort from the other Tribune was all too easy to understand and detect the bitterness within it. “You obviously know nothing about my Legate.” A series of gestures towards one of her nearby Centurions sent the man rushing over to one of the smaller shield walls to bolster its position. “He’s not going to stand down for simply anyone. The 14th has been ordered to break camp and march before noon, and that is what we are going to do.”“March where?” Viconia said, her voice cold but informally polite.“South.” The weight behind Tribune Shardie’s statement revealed just how much belief she had in such a course of action, but the instilled discipline within all members of the Legion meant that their personal thoughts and desires were rendered moot.“That’s suicide.” I said simply, feeling the Tribune’s gaze turn to me and then back to Radmerea.“Our place is not to question but to obey.” She said with all the finality of death. “Legate Quintillius has ordered us to march south, and that is exactly what we are going to do. I’m sorry Tribune, but my orders are clear. There’s nothing that I can do.”The tone of her voice was bringing back all too many memories of my time within Fort Ironhand’s walls. During his time as my Casta’s Tribune and after his promotion to Legate, Quintillius had made a reputation for himself among the member of the 14th. That same tone was one shared by most of the higher ranks and was increasingly prevalent among those within the lower ranks as well. It was one where both the general and fighting spirit of the legionaries had slowly been crushed over the course of several years from his management and leadership, and the reasons why I had deserted had steadily returned to my memories.All around us the growing roar of the mob was increasing but there were now newer sounds rising from within its depths. Chanting and bellowing was increasing in volume from the main arterial road leading into the marketplace where we stood but the chanting was suddenly downed out with a mass of panicky screams and shouts from the crowd.Before any of us could properly react the shield wall blocking that portion of road suddenly split open as the men and women within the centre peeled apart with undue haste. This was a reaction born of innate discipline but there was no doubting that in that very moment the integrity of the shield wall had been shattered.Loaded up with black-stained bags and mounds of burnt wood, a burner’s wagon came clattering heavily over the cobblestones through the heart of the formation, bowling aside anyone in its path. The sheer momentum of the charcoal laden wagon was more than enough for several legionaries to throw themselves out of its way as it careened into the marketplace, smashing into the side of one of the legion’s wagons with a crunch of splintering wood as it spilled its recently requisitioned supplies across the ground.For several long moments that stretched longer than they should’ve, there was no reaction but shock at the sudden change of events. Several legionaries were picking themselves up from the ground where they had thrown themselves but there were a few who are alternatively groaning in agony or laying still after been struck by the cart. In that moment the entire Casta seemed stunned, reeling from what had occurred and then that tiny moment of inactivity was gone.The crowds’ anger had reached its boiling point a number of them had launched the cart as an impromptu battering ram through the shield wall. Dozens of them had been racing after the cart and had immediately exploited the sudden hole in the formation before many of the professional soldiers had a chance to consciously react to the situation.They poured through as a horde of discontented rabble, commoners and burghers alike as they vented their anger at the actions of the 14th. United only in their anger at the desecration and looting of their city they were now reacting in an all too predictable way and lashing out with whatever they had available. Workshop tools, broken pieces of furniture and even cobblestones torn out of the roads were gripped in hands shaking with the raw emotions fuelling the mobs’ psyche.The legionnaires within the centre of the broken formation were the first to feel the crowds’ wrath and I saw several getting smashed aside or knocked down by the sheer weight of the press pouring into the gap. Only their discipline saved a majority of them as they locked their shields to their closest comrades, their ranks peeling back slightly from their broken centre. In a display of the inherent skill and discipline of the legion, they quickly formed inwardly bent curves that slowed the gap from expanding while keeping their split formation from fragmenting any further.Tribune Shardie’s reactions were also quick, almost as quick as the men and women who were suddenly fending off blows and strikes from the mob. Her whistle was snatched from where it hung around her throat, an ear-splitting blast ripping through the cries and shouts of the escalating brawl a second before she roared ‘Rudii!’ on the top of her lungs.While not anything that could be considered a weapon of war, each Legionary owned and carried a Rudis; a lead-cored, laminated wood training sword shaped like a gladius. Used for training among all members of the legion they were heavier than the steel blades used in real battles which helped train Tamriel’s greatest soldiers even further. The heavier weight made gladii feel considerably lighter in comparison and the blunted wooden nature also ensured a reduction in injuries, particularly fatal ones during practice.But, as some of my own scars and long since healed injuries attested to, a rudis in the hands of a trained swordsman was not something to sneer at. Their weight, shape and design made them considerably useful for such situations for crowd control and as the Centurions began echoing the orders to draw their training swords the 4th Casta shifted from defence to offense.Against armoured opponents the training weapons would have been a deadly hindrance, but against a crowd of unarmoured civilians they were punishingly effective. A rudis was perfectly capable of breaking bones with a legionary’s strength behind it and could kill if the wielder desired it and the men and women of the 4th Casta quickly put them to good use. The sounds of pain and screaming immediately rippled out of the press around the broken formation as the legionaries began to chop and hack at anyone opposing them, striking the blunt wooden blades into bellies, arms and shoulders to disable and stun. Like shoal of fish fleeing a predator the crowd was staggering away from the locked shields of the legionaries as they began to step over those few unlucky enough to have already felt the bite of a rudis, but the formation was still wide open.Dozens if not more had poured through the gap within those seconds after the charcoal cart had broken the shield wall and they were instinctively reacting by attacking anything or anyone within sight. This was no planned battle or skirmish and was more akin to a tavern brawl were emotion and choler ruled.It was chaos, with no sense of any control or aim over the fight and any legionaries outside of the shieldwalls were suddenly alone in a sea of enemies. Assaulted from all sides, and even from above as some more intrepid individuals climbed onto roofs, the legionaries of the 14th Legion locked their shields, closed ranks until they were truly shoulder to shoulder and fought with grim determination.To be outnumbered was a simple fact of life for the Legions and even in the confines of Bruma’s streets this was why the Legions trained the way they did. Severed from their comrades by the press of angry civilians, cohorts and squads became their own islands of protection under the command of their centurions and Praefects. For others like the Tribunes and the unlucky few who had been tasked with requisitioning supplies they were forced to fight alone in in tiny groups, relying upon their armour and training to keep themselves alive. Shieldwalls changed into testudos, individuals immediately linked up with their nearest comrades and only a rare few were left fighting alone within the first minutes of the battle.Dodging a wild swing of a fist from someone clearly unused to fighting, I thundered my own into the owner’s belly and watched as the man’s eyes bulged in his skull as he collapsed. Viconia left one of the rioters unconscious and bleeding from the mouth with a brutal snap kick to the mouth as he rushed her and both the tribunes were also immediately assaulted by others attacking anything that looked remotely belonging to the legion. On the streets and roads that had for the moment remained unbroken, the shield walls suddenly found themselves assailed from both sides, leaving the legionaries fighting back to back as the crowds outside of the market sensed the momentary weakness and pressed the advantage.With no training weapons to wield, Viconia and I were forced to rely upon our own fists and feet and I found myself cursing at my decision to only wear my breastplate and scalemail instead of my full armour. Most of the unnatural fatigue and weakness from my time in oblivion had faded in the days since but I was not in top fighting form and it didn’t take long before blows began making themselves felt in my flesh. What looked and felt like the broken leg of a chair smacked painfully against my shoulder, the impact only partially being mitigated by my armour and a punch from another assailant got me across the jaw even as I retaliated. Despite everything I wasn’t going to draw Sunchild in such a fight, as the mob’s intent was to beat and bruise, perhaps maim and the mere sight of a live blade could be enough to instil bloodlust. Instead I was left using everything I knew to keep myself from succumbing to my attackers, knocking several down or away however and with whatever I could and trying to stay close to Viconia as I could.As she had in other battles we had fought, Viconia appeared almost untouchable as she laid about herself with a flurry of kicks and punches. Over a dozen individuals had attacked us and the two tribunes and it didn’t take long for them to start shying away after she left three of their number out cold on the now-bloodstained cobbles. Radmerea and Shardie were fighting side by side, despite the fact that only Shardie wielded a Rudis but Radmerea was using her heavier plate armour to its full advantage. There was still too many for us all to fight effectively, but now the legionaries were gathering momentum as their discipline and training took over.A trio of whistle blasts from the formation severed by the charcoal wagon echoed hauntingly over the fighting, and there wouldn’t have been a man or woman who didn’t hear the piercing sounds. Every legion trained relentlessly and the whistles almost had their own distinct language as a result of the number of different notes and meanings. Two sharp blasts followed by a longer one had a very particular meaning and the centurion responsible for the command barely needed to yell the command before his legionaries responded. Split in two, and forced into a pair of rounded squares on either side of the wide arterial road the legionaries suddenly surged forward despite the resistance of the mob.Of the many techniques and formations used by the Legions, there were several that no other force had the skill or discipline to undertake, especially during combat. This tactic in particular would have resulted in lesser units and formations breaking and routing from the sheer difficulty of reforming ranks in the middle of an enemy formation, but the men and women of the 14th made it appear almost effortless. Where their formation had bent inwards like hinged gates, they now speared through the rioters towards their comrades. Two simultaneous thrusts of legionaries slammed hard into the depths of the unarmed and unarmoured civilians, knocking them aside with the weight and momentum of their armoured bodies and the non-too-gentle ministrations of rudii. In less than thirty seconds the two broken halves of the cohort had reformed into a single line of three unbroken ranks, stemming the flow of the rioters and cutting those who had made it through their lines from escape and further assistance.The blocking formations in the streets and alleys were surrounded but secure, holding firm against the dozens, if not hundreds of civilians both inside and outside the marketplace. But there were still dozens who were now trapped and quickly realising this, turning their anger and indignation into panic. This panic quickly fuelled their number into desperation as the realisation of being entirely surrounded by equal numbers of armoured legionaries in secured formations.More and more of the rioters were targeting those unlucky enough to be cut off or separated within the marketplace, and a large number of them were focussing their attentions on the likes of the Tribunes and Viconia and myself. Some were doing their best to find a way to flee out of the heart of an entire Casta’s worth of legionaries but the most were now reacting instinctively and we in particular were forced to fend them off. My fists were becoming swollen and bloodied from the impacts into the unarmoured bodies as I used every trick and skill I knew to keep myself from being knocked to the ground by the sheer numbers, cursing my weakness the entire time.I lost sight of Viconia and the Tribunes and all I could see was a mass of hate and fear filled expressions doing their best to either escape or fight. They were ordinary citizens, dressed everyday clothes and there was nothing about them that spoke of anything but fear and uncertainty. It had been the actions of the 14th that had dragged them from their quiet lives and pushed the impending fear of the daedric siege to vent itself in the most simplistic way possible. These men and women were not enemies and yet they were still adversaries as I punched, kicked and grappled them, knocking them unconscious, injuring them with my blows and fending them off as they reacted without thought.Their pain and fear was physical sensations, the heat of the flesh, the tang of split flesh and despite myself the fluttering of my heart grew more pronounced as the smell of blood grew stronger. The vampire was feeding off the raw emotions, fuelling and driving itself onwards and it was impossible for me not to realise that I was once against enjoying myself. My days were grey and dull, and my previous conversation with Martin had been wholly true. Nothing beyond Viconia and battle seemed to stir my heart or emotions anymore and even in such a situation I was revelling in the adrenaline, pain and conflict.Even if I hadn’t been so attuned to the raw emotions of the crowd it would have been impossible not to notice the surge of true fear and terror that washed over the dozens trapped in the marketplace and a rumbling made itself felt in the ground. Instinctively there was a sudden push like a wave breaking over a shore and almost as a single entity the rioters were shifting and fleeing, obvious to the fact that there wasn’t really anywhere to go. A rare few stopped where they could, surrendering or simply cowering in place but the majority was now fighting themselves in their haste away from one of the only streets not blocked by legionaries.Having been part of a cavalry charge and seeing its deadly effects first hand I knew all too well what the iron-shod rumbling signified even as my conscious mind trying to believe what I could see. A solid formation of armoured horsemen was galloping down the cobblestoned road, ignoring the fact that it was crammed full of civilians and riding them down in a wave of metal and meat.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Fully armoured and mounted upon some of the most expensively bred horses in the entire empire, thirty Extraordinarii thundered into the marketplace in two perfectly ordered ranks. Their armours were immaculate, their horses perfectly cared for and if not for the situation we were in they appeared ready for a formal parade with the highest of nobility. Instead they were moving at a gallop, ploughing through the panicking mob of rioters and using their momentum and size to crush any and all resistance.Despite the lethality of their charge there was distinct attempts from the riders not to needlessly kill. Their cavalry hasta, while wickedly sharp were not used against the civilians but instead the blunted ends were, knocking dozens aside or unconscious as they charged. Everything about them was designed for combat and they were the equestrian elite of the Legion and the Empire and there was nothing the mob could do to counter such a force, even if they were acting with considerably less lethality than usual.Dozens were knocked down within seconds of the emergence of the cavalry into the marketplace, and while many were seriously injured the darker portion of my soul somehow knew that only some were dead. The vampire was growling with pleasure in my mind and it was taking a considerable amount of effort to keep it at bay in the midst of so much violence, dissipating or not. As soon as the Legionaries had managed to close their formation many within the mob had seen the direction the wind was taking and had begun seeking an escape. Those who weren’t gripped in uncontrolled panic were already vanishing into the nearest buildings or whichever direction looked available to escape light cockroaches fleeing a lantern, and many more were simply surrendering where they stood.“Mrannd’ssinss?” Viconia said as the fighting died off as quickly as it had started, moving over to me with a growing look of concern on her face. “You look… troubled.”The realisation of what she meant was all too easy to understand when my gloved hand felt the tightness of my face and the hint of sharpness from a fang pushing between my lips. Under the guise of wiping my face clean of the blood of one of the rioters that I had left unconscious with a punch I forcibly reigned in the vampire, crushing it into the depths of my soul before someone else could notice the changes.Both Tribunes looked none worse for wear. Shardie’s rudis had seen considerable use in the riot judging by the number of unconscious or injured people scattered around us, and Radmerea looked more annoyed than anything else. Their attentions however, like most of us were on the handful of Extraordinarii moving in their direction while the rest of their number finished securing the marketplace once more.“I’m disappointed Tribune.” Called out one of the riders, his armour considerably more ornate and expensive compared to the others. “You and your Casta are a disgrace for letting such a rabble get the better of them. A week’s wages from yourself and everyone under your command should be suitable recompense.”“Yes sir.” Replied Tribune Shardie without the slightest hint of emotion or reaction to such a statement. I could barely hear her or anything else that was going on around me due to the thundering of my heart in my ears and the swimming sensation that was threatening to overwhelm me. In the time since my desertion there had been one individual who seemed to terrify me more than any other in my memories, even despite the horrors I had seen since.A metallic snap ripped my conscious mind back into focus and I realised I had been staring at the mounted individual, my anxiety and panic surging through my veins as a liquid fire. The source of several of my nightmares and the man who I solely attributed to my decision to desert was standing before me, mounted on his exquisite destrier no less than five metres away.The metallic snapping noise had been the silver faceplate of his helm being lifted up and away from his face and yet there was no terrible visage of evil staring out from the depths. Blue eyes, strands of closely cropped blonde hair and a clean shaven face free from any signs of scarring or blemishes was framed in the ebony helm as Legate Regubo Quintillius frowned at one of his commanders.My nightmares had spent months dragging this man’s appearance from my memories and the months that had passed since my desertion had simply mutated them into horrors untold. None of these tainted memories stood up to the reality in the flesh; there was no obvious signs of evil, no evidence of a creature wearing the flesh of a man but simply a mortal being in a position of authority. My anxiety was still flooding through me but now finding myself face to face with Legate Quintillius it felt… hollow. Hollow and empty.“Legate.” Tribune Radmerea said, and I watched as his gaze shifted from his tribune to her. “I have come…”“I know why you have come. You are one of the lizard’s. We just had a little chat and I am well aware of what you all want. Leave the matters concerning the 14th to me, and keep your own house in order.”His gaze briefly passed over myself and Viconia, barely even paying any attention to the handful of unconscious and injured civilians who were trying to move away from the small collection of mounted horsemen on their thoroughbreds. Quintillius only had four of them with him but each of the horses were close to rivalling Trygve in size and were highly intimidating.I felt his gaze and felt somewhat confused as there wasn’t the semblance of recognition or emotion on his expression. It felt anticlimactic, but my annoyance began to grow as his attentions lingered on Viconia and a sly smile began to make itself visible.“And just who are these?” he said simply, the grin growing further as he looked over Viconia from her toes to her head. Even in her armour there was no doubting the feminine figure underneath and Quintillius certainly wasn’t blind.“They are with me.” Radmerea said quickly, but I noticed how one of the nearest Extraordinarii was staring at me almost as intently as Quintillius was with Viconia. It was not an expression of lust however, but of dawning realisation and recognition”“That’s Kaius Desin.” Said the mounted legionary, but Quintillius barely wavered his gaze.“Who?”“Kaius Desin. He was a Praefect in the 8th Casta.”Quintillius’ expression changed into a mixture of confusion and curiosity, but unlike his bodyguard there was no recognition in his eyes.“He doesn’t appear to be one of ours.”My annoyance grew sharply for a moment and I felt almost insulted but then I realised something. Unlike myself who had regularly thought of the path that I had taken and the reasons for it, to a man such as the Legate I was but one man. A man among almost five thousand others scattered across the entirety of Vvardenfell but it still irked me considerably as he had once been the Tribune of the 8th Casta before his promotion to Legate of the 14th.“That’s because he deserted. A year or two ago at least.”“A deserter? Or a turncoat?” With some amusement Quintillius turned from me to Tribune Radmerea. “Is this the quality of the 9th? Taking in the dregs of other legions?”Unlike her colleague, Radmerea was not as used to hiding her emotions and a flush began forming as she thought of a response, a response that was cut off before it could be voiced by a centurion running from the direction we had originally came.Despite the Legion-instilled fitness the centurion was out of breath and flushed, panting heavily as he saw the array of officers and made a beeline straight to the mounted Legate. While the distance was short between the two casta’s in the market district it was not an easy task to run in full legionary plate which only seemed to underline the importance of his reasons for doing so.“Sir! I need to speak to you!”“The chain of command exists for a reason, Centurion.” Quintillius sneered, putting stress into the man’s rank. “That’s a loss of a day’s pay.”“But, Sir…”“Two days then. Or perhaps you would prefer to be arrested alongside this scum?”The gesture in my direction was not lost on any of us, but it was still a shock. Not as much as the sudden approach of two of the mounted cavalry as they urged their horses closer, their grips on their lances shifting until I suddenly found myself staring at their steel-tipped points. Viconia especially took a menacing step forward until one of the others shifted in her direction, the blunted haft gesturing in her direction as a warning that went entirely unheeded. Outnumbered by half a dozen mounted elite of the Empire, between myself and Viconia it was almost an even match if it turned into a fight.“Sir…” The centurion was now standing to attention, back ramrod straight and unwavering despite the emotion in his eyes. He was also slowly controlling his breathing from the run but it was no easy thing to face down a legate who was now increasingly annoyed.“Gods be damned then Centurion. Well? What is so important that you are willing to get flogged by breaching protocol?”“Tribune Creastyr and the 2nd Casta have stood down. They sent me to advise the others to do the same before they arrive.”“Stood down? Under who’s damned authority?” The centurion’s mouth opened as he went to speak but Quintillius didn’t give him any opportunity, his choler rising and overwhelming all other thoughts. “Nevermind. Creastyr and his rabble have just forfeited their salaries this year. In fact, he and all of his men between start drawing lots because I’ll treat their mutiny the way it’s supposed to be treated.”Even with a pair of lances pointing at my chest I felt cold at the sensation of the situation slipping away. Decimation had not been performed in a Legion for a long time, generations at least. It was the oldest and harshest of Legion punishments, where one legionary in every ten was selected to be beaten to death by the fists and feet of the other nine. Quintillius had just casually ordered a death sentence for fifty legionaries of Creastyr’s casta as though he was ordering a tavern meal and I knew it was not an idle threat.His bodyguards however were distracted, looking down the street from where the Centurion and ourselves had come from with an uneasy amazement at what was appearing down the other end. With my back facing that direction I couldn’t see anything at all, but I could certainly hear it. the sound of marching, of armoured men and women moving in a rough formation that was atypical of a force of legionaries.“Now what?” I heard Quintillius mutter under his breath as he too had his attention drawn to the growing noise. The surrounding marketplace was a true dichotomy of sensations from the groaning of the wounded, the snorting of Extraordinarii mounts, the sound of legionaries going about securing the area and the sudden hushing of the crowds who remained in the vicinity. While there was still unrest and hundreds of civilians outside of the shield walls their desire to retaliate had been quashed by the way the casta had reacted and the arrival of the Extraordinarii, but there was a bubble of silence that was growing over them as well with the approach of this new force.Seeing how the two Extraordinarii who had moved to arrest me were suddenly distracted, I took the opportunity to turn around enough to see what had caught their attentions. The noise of the newcomers’ approach was growing louder, but it was the sight of them that left me smiling savagely.There was not much within Tamriel that would have been able to give pause to a force of legionaries, but a cohort’s worth of Blades certainly did. Just over a hundred of the heavily armoured and armed warriors were moving in our direction in a very rough formation, not bothering to keep ranks or remaining in step as legionaries would have. The Blades did not fight in formations like the Legion; they were individual agents, blade masters of legendary reputations and the simple fact that over a third of their total number was present in this single street was more than enough to make history.Not to mention the fact that a very specific individual was walking at the forefront. His Akaviri styled armour did not differ from that of the men and women at his back, but unlike them his receding hairline was not hidden under an armoured barbute or kabuto helm. He too was another reason why I couldn’t keep the smile from my face, it was impossible not to with the sight of Jauffre leading a full third of the order with all the appearance of leading a spring parade.“Legate Quintillius?” He called out as they reached the edge of the marketplace. “You and your men are to stand down.”There was a moment’s pause between the two men as the distance between them shrunk to less than ten metres. “I think not.” Quintillius said with only a hint of surprise on his face that seemed warring with other emotions from being face to face with such a force as the Blades.One of Jauffre’s eyebrows twitched with what was unmistakably amusement and he came to a halt, standing tall in his Akaviri armour and looking upwards at the mounted Legate. “Legate…” he began, but was almost instantly cut off by Quintullius.“You have no authority here. I do not answer to you, and nor will I answer to some trumped-up peasant just because he wears some ancient jewellery. Go and tell your master that I will be not be cowed by such a pathetic show of force.”Quintillius may have been unaffected by the sight of so many heavily armed Blades, but my supernatural senses were picking up that he was a rarity among the members of the 14th. Legionaries were some of the bravest and loyal soldiers to have ever walked the bounds of Tamriel but they were face to face with a truly legendary force. Blades were true living legends, founded from the ranks of the greatest of Akavir’s Dragonguard centuries prior and the mass of snarling mempo masks was a truly unnerving sight. To the legionaries around us, they would’ve preferred to have faced down a mass of daedra than the cohort of Blades, especially as their Legate appeared oblivion-bent on antagonising them.Jauffre’s expression hardened for a moment and the emotion in his eyes was that potent that I found myself partially surprised that Quintillius wasn’t left as a pair of smoking boots. The amused curve of his mouth however hadn’t changed in the slightest.“As it appears that you are unfamiliar with my identity I will introduce myself.” Jauffre said, raising his voice subtly so that it echoed just loud enough for the nearest legionaries to hear. “I am Jauffre. Grandmaster Jauffre, and I am the commander of the Blades.”The effects were immediate and obvious, the sudden whispering of those within the nearest shield walls making themselves heard in my ears as my supernatural senses drew it all in. Where there had once been crowds of protestors and rioters, there were now only handfuls of individuals left who were merely sitting back spectating such an event, and most of the shield walls were becoming lax as their attentions were drawn to the spectacle. The emotions that were filling the rank-and-file of the 14th legion was a combination of sinking feelings, unease and a general sensation that could only be summed up as ‘oh-shit’.Even among the Extraordinarii surrounding the two tribunes, Viconia and myself were beginning to waver, the points of the hastas pointing at me suddenly drooping slightly as their wielders shared glances with their comrades. This was unprecedented in so many ways, a situation that for most left them filled with concern and anxiety.Quintillius however couldn’t have acted any more like a bull charging red cloth without growing horns and getting on all fours.“I don’t care.” He snapped, oblivious to the expressions on the faces of his bodyguard. “I am an Imperial Legate and not beholden to your authority. What I do is in the name of the Empire and the Elder Council and a band of failures who couldn’t protect the Emperor is not going to stand in my way.”I gained the feeling that Jauffre was expecting this kind of response and had the expression of a man giving a condemned man more rope to hang himself with.“I understand that my position is not fully understood. Comes with the territory I’m afraid.” The smile that was growing on Jauffre’s face was wide and respectful but it certainly wasn’t shared with his eyes. “Yes, you are a Legate and yes your authority is considerable, but we are Blades. We are the instruments of the Empire’s will, even if there is no Emperor on the throne at this time.”Jauffre’s voice had raised slightly more until all within the marketplace could hear his words but Quintillius’ laugh echoed even louder. “So what do you think that you and your… ‘soldiers’ will accomplish here? Do you really think that such a paltry force can stop me and my Legion?”“Stop you?” The gleam in Jauffre’s eyes was predatory now. “We are not here to stop you. We are here to arrest you.”A pin could have been heard falling to the ground in the sudden pause, broken by a handful of intakes of breaths. Quintillius was held aback at that simple statement almost more than his soldiers, the Legionaries suddenly turning in place, their discipline fading at the proclamation that a man of such a rank was being arrested. I had never heard of such a situation before, and judging by the looks of utter amazement on everyone present no one else did either.“Arrest… me…” Of all of us, Quintillius was the one who appeared the most in shock. “On… On what charges?”“Oh, the standard collection. “Jauffre replied smoothly. “Corruption, abuse of power, looting, desertion, treason.” A hand gestured towards Viconia and myself and the handful of extraordinary who were still half-heartedly pointing their weapons at us. “Threatening Imperial agents.”“Imperial agents?” An expression of utter confusion glanced between Viconia and I before Quintillius returned his gaze to Jauffre. “This man is one of mine, or at least he was until he deserted the Legion.”“Actually, that man is one of mine. He has been for quite some time now and I consider Kaius and Viconia to be some of the most capable Blades in the history of our Order. It takes a certain kind of individual to enter Oblivion, especially on several occasions.”Unseen by Quintillius, the handful of cavalry spears were no longer pointing in our direction and their wielders shifted uneasily in their saddles. Under the pretence of keeping their enormous steeds under control there was a slight shuffling as they adjusted their positions but it was blindingly obvious that they were taking the opportunity to distance themselves from their Legate.Nor were they the only ones who were looking increasingly concerned at the turn of events. The shieldwalls were no longer the impenetrable barriers of metal and there was not a single legionary who hadn’t shuffled a slight distance away from the Blades. Quintillius though appeared to be blind to that simple fact, and as his confusion melted away it was quickly replaced with anger.“Your authority is meaningless.” He snapped simply, gesturing to the men and mer of his bodyguard at his back. “You have no right to arrest me, and you simply can’t.”“In a way you are right, I don’t need to arrest you at all. In fact, I could simply order Sir Desin to kill you where you are and there wouldn’t be a single thing that you or your troops could do about it. The skill of Extraordinarii is not in question, but whether they could come to your aid in time is a different matter.”The first signs of fear bloomed in Quintillius’ eyes as he looked at me properly of the first time. I couldn’t be sure what was going through his mind but I guessed he was thinking about his less-than-stellar conduct as a Tribune and Legate. Jauffre, Viconia and myself knew that I only became a Blade after Kvatch but Quintillius didn’t. Judging by the expression on his face as the blood drained away I knew that he was left with the thought that everything that he had ever done, from the ordering of massacres of Ashlander villages, the embezzlement of Legion funds, appropriating supplies from merchant caravans and more was not a secret, but was known to the Blades.There was also the creeping realisation that was all-too-visible within Quintillius’ eyes. No one within the bounds of the Empire were under any false assumptions of the skill of the Blades, even with the recent reputation loss they had suffered with the death of the Emperor. Quintillius knew that the distance between Viconia and I, and himself was all too short for his bodyguard to protect him, even if they hadn’t been surreptitiously moving backwards to distance themselves from the situation.It was this glance in my direction that also served to confirm this fact, a fact that was much more immediately pressing; he was now almost completely isolated and unsupported by the men and women who were supposed to be under his command.Normally, any Legate of a similar nature to Xemseus would have had the legionaries under their command willing to follow them into the depths of Oblivion without hesitation, but loyalty was not nothing something Quintillius had fostered during his time. Even his associates and cronies among the Extraordinarii were shying away from the Blades, but while it might have been founded in self-interest there was a very key fact why there was so much hesitation.The Legions were famous, almost infinitely so throughout the millions of beings that lived in the Empire, and their comparatively smaller numbers was overshadowed by the legends the Legions had developed over the centuries. At full strength, all twenty legions held approximately a hundred thousand professional soldiers at any given time, but the Blades were different.They were the shadowy figures lurking in all corners of the Empire, the invisible spies, dutiful bodyguards of the Emperors and rumoured assassins whose knives removed threats to Imperial power. They were blade masters whose lineage stemmed from the Akaviri Dragonguard who had routinely slain the great wyrms of the north. Such a group which had been founded from men and women capable of slaying creatures that could and had destroyed whole armies had given rise to a legend that eclipsed even that of the Legions. The Legionnaires were tough and the greatest soldiers to ever live, but they were not stupid and especially not suicidal enough to think that they could face down Blades with only a five-to-one advantage in numbers. What was strangely hilarious was that I knew all too well that even a fraction of a cohort in formation would have been enough to decimate the Blades under Jauffre’s command but the psychological edge was more than enough to remove the chance of bloodshed.Indignation and annoyance momentarily warred for control of Quintillius’ expressions before they both were conquered by the understanding that he was defeated. His supporter base had vanished like spring mists being blown away by the wind, but to my surprise he seemed to suddenly be determined to face his sudden fate with something resembling dignity.“Tribune.” He snapped, his voice cracking with hints of the rage that for the moment remained hidden as climbed out of his saddle. “Care for Pertinax.”Tribune Shardiie flinched as though she had been slapped as Quintillius threw the reins at her face, even as she nodded and caught them in a single movement. The reins had barely even left his hands before Quintillius had already appeared to have forgotten all about her and even his own prized charger, taking a few steps towards Jauffre before anyone could react or say a word.Nothing more than a nod from the aged spymaster was needed for four Blades to step out of their rough formation, moving past him and quickly taking up positions around the disgraced Legate. The level of stoicism that was visible on Quintillius’ face was remarkable, but the mask cracked slightly as he was escorted past Jauffre.“You will pay for this.” I could hear him growl with my enhanced hearing, and my eyes were glued on Jauffre as a slow, sly smile creased his lips for a moment. Even with my vampirism I couldn’t hear what Jauffre said in reply, but the way his mouth moved left me with the distinct impression that he had said nothing more than ‘good luck.’For the Legionaries and the mounted Extraordinarii there was nothing else to do but mill about in confusion, looking amongst themselves for direction but it was not from within their ranks that sense would be made from the situation. Barely even before Quintillius was begun being led away did Jauffre move once more, taking his own steps towards Viconia and myself with the small host of riders at our backs.“Tribune.” He said simply, nodding politely to Shardiie who was still standing holding the reins to Quintillius’ mount. Her expression was one of utter confusion and as though she was in shock which wouldn’t have surprised me at all at that time. “Gather your Legionaries. My Blades will provide escorts for you all back to your camp where you will remain until further directed. Do you understand?”She didn’t really look as though she understood what was going on, but she nodded anyway, almost too caught up in the strangeness of the situation to do anything more than obey.“Good. Leave behind any of those who have experience in restoration, and a squad to assist in clearing up the area. Otherwise I want you and the rest of your Casta out of the city as soon as you can.”“Understood… Sir.”Nodding to her once again, he gestured to the rest of the Blades accompanying them and carefully they began moving forwards, making sure not to show any signs of hostility or aggressiveness as they did so. Most of the Blades immediately moved towards and through the shield walls, pausing and asking to be let through before taking up positions between the legionaries and the slowly regrowing crowds of citizens. Their presence, unlike the legionaries less than an hour before was an intimidating, yet calming one which was only assisted further as the casta’s position melted away and began reformed into a formation more suitable to marching out of the city.Several of the Blades however had different roles and they immediately began triaging the dozens of wounded and injured rioters scattered about the marketplace. For the most part they had remained where they had fallen during the fighting but with the sudden dispersal of the casta those who could walk or stand began painfully doing so.“You did well you two.”Jauffre’s voice was calm and quite but still made itself heard over the sudden sound of hundreds of armoured feet moving across cobblestones, and the increasing cries of the wounded as their injures began being treated. Restoration magicka was never a painless experience.“We didn’t do that much.” I replied honestly, and I saw the smile on Jauffre’s face finally break out from the prison of his will.“You did more than you think, especially under these circumstances. Keeping a cool head and ice in the veins during such a situation is more than I could ask for, especially when that fool tried to arrest you both. How are you feeling?”“Tired and a bit sore.”He laughed, and I felt rather than saw Viconia’s presence as she stepped up alongside me as she watched the Legionaries continue forming an orderly column. The wagons of their supplies and goods were left where they were standing, including the partially broken charcoal cart and the upturned Legion wagon with its spilled goods.“One of us is at least.” She muttered darkly, but with a hint of humour in her voice. The look she gave me warned me for an ‘interesting’ time once we were alone, as the past months had proven that she always had certain ‘desires’ after a fight or battle.“I am glad that neither of you got seriously hurt, but I also must apologise for using you in such a way.”“What way?” Viconia asked a split second before I could.“Using you as threats to that fool. I have never been one for gambling and that situation was considerably riskier than what I would have preferred.”“It worked though.”This time the smile was sadder, and Jauffre looked older for a moment as he glanced over the dozens of wounded and the handful of dead being handled by the Blades. “It did, but only just.”“What will happen to him?”Even if Viconia hadn’t gestured in the direction where the Blades had taken Quintillius it was impossible not to know who she meant. Jauffre however merely shrugged.“Captain Burd will allocate a nice cosy place of residence for our Legate in the Castle basements where he will be kept out of the way for what comes next. Then, if we are all lucky enough to live that far he will be taken back to the Imperial city, tried and formally charged for his crimes, although I doubt that he will get much more than losing his rank and titles and being dishonourably removed from the Legion.”“Is that it?”Jauffre’s cold, assassin-like eyes moved between the two of us and he shrugged, waiting a moment for the several centurions to finish bellowing the orders for their cohorts to start marching out of the marketplace. “Unfortunately yes. As I am in no doubt how you two are already aware; rank has its own power and privileges and it shields many who have it. Quintillius is still technically an Imperial Legate and even though the charges and the evidence we have is damning there is going to be little that the Courts will be able to do.”“So, all of this was for nothing?” I asked, feeling my head swim and my guts clench in annoyance.“The objective of this was not to bring justice down on the head of someone who may thoroughly have deserved it.” Jauffre began, gesturing to the bloodstained cobblestones and the dozens of people who still remained nearby. “Unfortunately this was a battle of politics and subterfuge, not one of justice. I know that especially you, Kaius have a good idea of just what Regubo Quintillius was up to in Vvardenfell but for a man in my positon I am acutely aware that this sort of issue is not limited to just individuals. Whether you believe it or not, corruption and abuse of power are far more common than not within the bureaucracy of the Empire and it would take more than the Blades and what we represent to stamp it out. We monitor such things but unless they become significant threats for the most part we let them slide.”“Then… why act now?”“Because what is occurring here is far more serious than anything we have ever faced. We need to be unified, united against the daedra and more than just this city and its inhabitants is at stake. This is the end of the world, and a man like Quintillius, with his authority and power has come closer than the Mythic Dawn did in damaging the defence against Mehrunes Dagon. These past weeks we have had two Legates acting independently of each other, both working for differing ends and with different goals in mind. Legate Xemseus’ priorities and efforts are exactly what we want and need, but Quintillius would never have accepted someone else being made General. Especially when he technically had seniority.”“What if he didn’t give himself up?” Viconia asked, one of her typical smiles curling her lips with growing amusement. “What if he forced the 14th to make a fight of it?”“There were contingencies set aside in case he decided to try something royally stupid. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time that the Blades have removed threats to the Empire in a more… direct, manner.The chill that caressed its way up my spine had much less to deal with the sound of further armoured feet marching into and through the Marketplace and more with the cold expression that had consumed Jauffre’s features. Even after all of this time it was difficult to associate the grandfatherly figure standing in front of us with literally one of the most powerful beings in the entire Empire but it was moments like this that truly rammed the point home.Nodding to us, and briefly pausing to place his hand on my shoulder Jauffre smiled warmly, the cold persona of a professional spy and assassin melting away. “You both did really well. Rest up while you can, we’re going to need all of our strength in the days to come.”Moving off to supervise the Blades as they began the laborious process of returning the ‘requisitioned’ supplies to their owners and deal with the dead and wounded, Jauffre left Viconia and I without a backwards glance. In that moment we were suddenly tiny islands of stillness in a sea of activity, but I knew that the sensation was going to be short lived, especially in the short term as the expression Viconia wore was more than enough to tell me what plans she had for the afternoon.“So, Mrannd’ssinss. Where to now?”The hint in her tone was more than enough to tell me that it was less of a question and more of a ‘let’s go find somewhere private’, but I was still struggling to understand everything that I had just experienced and witnessed. It was too surreal, but her presence was certainly comforting, especially when the faintest moment of touch ran down my arm as she noticed how I was feeling troubled.“I’ve had enough of this ‘fun’ for a while.” I admitted, looking about ourselves and briefly glancing over the cohorts marching into and through the marketplace from elsewhere in the merchants’ quarters. “I…”My voice trailed off as there was a sudden commotion from within the ranks of one of the nearest cohorts, as a handful of their number suddenly stumbled and they fell out of step with their comrades. This particular group of legionaries, like the others that had already made their way through the marketplace had been keeping wary eyes on the Blades scattered about as they marched but some within their number had also been looking over Viconia and myself. Most of them at least had been eyeing off Viconia as her armour and dress was doing little to hide her curves and figure, but those who had stumbled in place weren’t looking at her, but at me instead.Pale expressions of shock and surprise was clearly visible on a handful of them, their surprise fighting dominance over their expressions of recognition. My own heart began racing as I saw the all-too-familiar iconography on their shields and armours, the appearance of familiar faces that I knew all too well even as the cohort’s centurion came stomping up, barking orders before he too suddenly stopped in place.The sudden and complete lack of discipline and control would have been utterly hilarious if not for the way that I felt consumed by panic in that moment, seeing the entire cohort’s march crumple as scattered individuals came to sudden halts that left those behind them tripping and bumping into them. The entire formation, five ranks wide and twenty long folded up like a concertina, and where normally the Centurion would be all too quick to sort out such a mess he was instead reacting in a similar manner, standing as still as a wooden board looking as though he had just come face to face with a ghost.“Fuck…” I saw him mouth, his plumed helmet fluttering as the cohort began muttering and talking loud enough that the fabled Legion discipline had disintegrated entirely. “Is that you Kaius?”“Uh…” Words escaped me for the moment, as I stared into the pale expression of one of my longest friends. “Yeah… Hello Ozzarious."

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“You can keep your filthy skooma, it makes our bellies bleed.”

“Cause when we raise our flagon to another dead dragon, there is just one drink we need!”
 Even from dozens of metres away, the poorly sung lyrics were easily discernible as Viconia and I walked towards its source. The nights may fall early in Bruma and even so the evening was already filled with increasing revelry, and this particular location just happened to be our destination.In the days since the riots and the now-infamous arrest of Legate Quintillius the city had settled somewhat into normalcy despite the ever present threat of Dagon’s army, but the increasing rumours of the battle for the city approaching there had been two distinct reactions from its populace. Some were increasingly despondent and fearful, their minds gazing forward in their attempts to predict the future but others, many of very specific skills and roles were having quite the opposite reactions. Less concerned about the future there were many who were living in the here and now, which led them towards more… physical activities and pursuits.“The Cuddly Fawn.” Viconia muttered with amusement creasing her words into a hiss. “Cute...”My own snort of amusement at the somewhat-misnamed tavern was drowned out by the patrons’ sudden and loud chant of ‘Nord Mead!’ as they continued singing along to what sounded like a bard playing with equal parts enthusiasm and skill. Ducking my head under the low swinging sign bearing an artistic depiction of a young deer I felt my anxiety growing even more despite my own amusement at the tavern’s name. Whether it had been of choice in the attempts to gain a specific class of patrons or whether the now-regular customers had been attracted to it out of a sense of irony I wasn’t sure, but stepping through the opened door I was guessing it was more of the latter.Every city throughout the Empire featured several or more taverns, taphouses, inns and mead halls of varying qualities, each providing their own specific type of environment. More recently Viconia and I had found ourselves being able to access some of the wealthier, upper-class establishments due to our fame, money and titles but this particular tavern was of the sort that I was much more experienced and comfortable in. Unlike the establishments catering for the whims and desires of the nobility, or the merchants or even travellers, this particular tavern was for those who trod the path of the sword.Guards, Fighter’s Guildsmen, unaffiliated mercenaries and sell swords, adventurers, hunters and now of course; legionaries filled the interior, lacking the implements of their trades but being universally related by their attitudes and their single minded desire to let of steam and relax under a tide of booze. There were several dozen crammed around the various tables and stools that were equal parts crude, cheap and easily replaceable, hovering near the rough bar with the equally rough appearing tavern keep standing behind. Some were taking part in the handful of activities available, clustered around a handful of barrels containing games of dice or hanging around one of the few spaces free of people where one of the more unfortunate walls was playing host to a collection of daggers, axes and even a legionary’s pilum as a result of throwing contests. The source of the noise that I could only loosely describe as singing that had been plaguing the neighbourhood was from a particular cluster of patrons around a bard with his lute but for the most part the men and women inside were more interested in drinking and eating.There was certainly a collection throughout the tavern, and the way they held themselves or were dressed allowed me to quickly identify some of them. The rough, short sleeved tunics of legionaries could be seen no matter where I turned my gaze, seeing the brands of members of both the 9th and 14th scattered about. Somewhat unsurprisingly the scaled visage of Legate Xemseus could be seen occupying a portion of the bar with a handful of his Tribunes eating and drinking under the same roof as their legionaries. Others were also easy to identify, ranging from the small number of hulking and scarred members of Lagaa’s Orchish mercenaries to the tattooed and bearded Nords of the Ironclad Company. There were even a handful of older looking soldiers, their legion tattoos long since fading into grey ink along with their hair who were now reunited with members of their old legions and showing the younger members how true veterans held their liquor.The atmosphere was truly something that couldn’t be found outside of similar establishments, and following close behind, Viconia’s nose crinkled within seconds of stepping through the door. Only through her own stoic nature and our mutually shared experiences in less-than-pleasant environments allowed her some ability to stave off openly reacting as the full force of the tavern assaulted her. Not that I blamed her in the slightest, as although I was used to spending time in such taverns it took some getting used to walking into a room and feeling as though you needed to draw a blade to cut a passage in the air. It especially didn’t help that the mixture of body odour and stale alcohol gave off a distinct aroma of the colour brown.Typically, the appearance of a woman such as Viconia would have drawn the attention in such an establishment and while eyes and heads turned in our direction most were too busy in their revelry to pay much notice. There was also the fact that these sorts of taverns also attracted several types of women anyway, ranging from the typical women-of-the-night, to lesser nobles seeking excitement by bumping shoulders and other parts with the rough edges of the Empire. In the Cuddly Fawn however, there was a specific group who had been awaiting our arrival, or more specifically my arrival and so all the attention was quickly focussed upon myself.“I was beginning to worry that you weren’t going to come Kai.” Said one of them who had immediately risen to his feet and moved in our direction.“If he had any choice in the matter, then he may not have.” Viconia replied with a teeth filled smile. “Luckily for you all he had an escort.”The grin on Ozzarious’ face was huge and I managed to disentangle myself from the bearhug from one of my oldest friends. While somewhat similar in build, the life of a legionary had left him broader and solid compared to myself but I knew that whatever advantage he used to have in strength had since been nullified by my curse.“In that case you have my thanks, and that of the others.” the amusement was all too easy to hear in his voice and see in his face as he nodded to Viconia before gesturing towards the others seated around one of the many tables. “Come on Kai, don’t be shy.”While the grin on my face was impossible to wipe away and my fear and anxiety was quickly fading, it felt surreal as I moved closer to the handful of men and women seated around the table, looking and staring with their own expressions filled with amazement and joy.“Well, for once you aren’t entirely fully of shit Oz.” called out one of their number to the laughter of the others.“You look good for a dead man.” Said another, and I couldn’t help but grin even more, stepping closer until I was close enough to lean on the table.“I feel good for one.” I replied, nodding to the collection of old friends and strangely feeling closer to a home than I had in years.“And you’ve even brought company. Female company too. It’s a pleasure to have female company for a change.”A chunk of hardtack strong enough to reinforce a shield bounced off a shoulder and the thrower; a somewhat petite Breton woman snarled good naturedly at the other legionary. “Hey!”“Sorry, Meliinne, but you and Pibrina don’t really count.”“Yeah… well…” Her shrug and laugh was honest but her eyes, like the others were almost entirely focussed on me almost to the exclusion of all else. “Are you just going to stand there like a gawking idiot Kai? Or are you going to introduce us?”My awkward chuckle was not lost on any of them as I looked between them and Viconia, standing beside me with a hand resting on a shapely hip and her mouth creased in amusement.“Everyone, this is Viconia DeVir. Viconia, it is my extreme pleasure to introduce the men, and women,” I said with a wink to Meliinne and the others. “of the third cohort, eight Casta.”“The best damned Casta in the 14th.” Added Ozzarious as he dragged over a pair of chairs for myself and Viconia, his words being punctuated by the other members of the group slapping their palms into the surface of the table in unison.“You’ve met Ozzarious already.” I said to Viconia, gesturing to him. “We’ve both been in the 14th together since we both joined. We served as Hastatii together and yet somehow, someone thought it would be a brilliant idea to make him a Centurion.”“Much to my own annoyance.” Ozzarious laughed, still smiling as Viconia and I sat down. “It was a battle I couldn’t keep fighting forever.”“The loudmouthed one over there,” I gestured to the thinner looking Bosmer seated adjacent to Meliinne who had been the target for her thrown hardtack. “Is Danhragoth. He’s one of the best trackers in the Legion, however would be a much better scout if he could keep his mouth shut for more than a minute at a time.”“And fuck you too Kai.” He replied with relish, raising his fore and middle finger in a traditional archer’s insult, the gesture entirely lacking hostility and made in jest. “Glad to see that some things never change.”“I’m guessing that you still haven’t gotten any better at archery? It’s a sad day when a wood elf can’t even hit a target.” The laughter from the group and Danhragoth’s pretend choking noise briefly drowned out the continued singing from the Nordic mercenaries surrounding the bard. Viconia’s eyes were moving across the group as I introduced them in turn, her own honest smile matching my own.“As for Meliinne, well she mightn’t look it but she’s one of the most dangerous people you’ll ever meet. Including yourself.” The Breton woman smiled fiercely and anywhere else she would have looked out of place but the short sleeves of her tunic revealed a toned body of muscles under the brand of the 14th. “She mightn’t technically be a legionary but she’s certainly someone I wouldn’t want to mess with.”“Comes with the territory.” She replied, gesturing with her hands and bringing a swirling collection of lights into existence with the merest pressure of her will.“You’re a Battlemage.” Viconia said, obviously feeling the same surge of magicka from Meliinne as she showed off.“Yep, and one of the best we have.” Added Danhragoth before I could reply. “Worth more than her weight in septims, that is for sure.”“What is your specialisation?”“Alteration.” she replied without hesitation. “I know a little Destruction and the standard collection of Restoration but if you want your enemy’s armour to turn to rust or the ground under their feet to turn to mud then I’m your girl.”The amused series of chuckles from the others was obvious and I remembered all too well how many times Meliinne’s skills had saved all of us and more during battles against the Ashlanders. More than one group had underestimated the capabilities of a cohort, or even a squad with a Battlemage in support, or had failed to notice her presence among our number before battle. Battlemages were a rarity throughout the Empire and were uniquely Legion; their skills in magicka being contradicted by the simple fact that unlike every mage, sorcerer, wizard, warlock or necromancer dressed in enchanted robes and clothes, Battlemages were dressed in the same full plate armour as the rest of the Legionaries. Meliinne didn’t look it, but she was one of the most skilled and took great pride in the fact that unlike every other magicka user she could conduct a forced march in full plate and still be able to cast spells at the end.“Those two next to her are Pibrina and Rexuge. Nothing outwardly special about them but I certainly wouldn’t want anyone else by my side in a shieldwall.”As the only other female in the group wearing the rough legion tunic and a dragon brand on the bicep, Pibrina stood out slightly, but only if you stopped to take in the details. While typically a role better suited for males, or more accurately orcs and certain breeds of Khajiit; Pibrina was one of many, many women throughout the Legion who took up her place in the shieldwall. There was still an air of femininity about her despite the Legion’s best efforts to stamp out individualism and her habit of keeping her hair short for ease of wearing a helmet but before I became a vampire only my lifetime of drawing a longbow allowed me to beat her in an arm-wrestle.“Yeah, like you have ever fought in a shield-wall.” Pibrina said in a mocking tone, but with a smile on her face. “Have you worked out which end of the sword is which yet?”“Of course I have.” I replied just as smoothly. “The pointy end goes into the other guy. After all, that’s all you legionaries are trained to do.”Unlike Pibrina there was nothing feminine about Rexuge; a square jawed Imperial with a considerable amount of Colovian blood in his veins. In some ways he was the quintessential legionary and I knew for a fact that his likeness had been used on a series of woodcuttings in the Imperial city for recruiting new legionaries. “Glad to see you have the basics down pat Kai. Maybe one day you’ll actually become a real soldier.”“Sounds like that’s below his paygrade these days.” Ozzarious laughed and while there was still humour among the group there was the subtle undercurrent of unease. I was part of them, and had been one for several years before I deserted but I was feeling strangely displaced. My world had changed, fate snatching me away from the path that they had remained on and while the journey’s end appeared dangerously similar we were no longer walking the same paths. It made me feel strangely alone.Despite this the smile on my face was impossible to remove and I felt a strange glow of emotions that I hadn’t felt for months. I was feeling content in more ways than one, even as I introduced Viconia to the last of the group.“The quiet one there is Domahik. He mightn’t look like much but the two of us have been through a lot together.”“Just because we had the luck of hunting a werewolf together…” the Redguard smiled warmly and raised his flagon of ale in our direction. “Thankfully I haven’t had to repeat that experience again since.”“You have been luckier than Kaius and I.” Viconia replied smoothly. “Get him to tell you about Glenvar Castle sometime.”Domahik’s expression paled and looked between the two of us with a growing expression of horror. Both he and I had been the few survivors that night several years ago in the snows of Vvardenfell and while there both of us where unscathed, mentally we still bore scars. Unlike me however, he hadn’t had been cursed with vampirism, or had faced down such monsters to temper the fear.“You have been keeping yourself busy Kai.”“Unfortunately so.” My smile hid my true thoughts on the matter but I suspected that these men and women knew me a little too well to be able to keep such things hidden entirely. Viconia especially knew me just as well, if not better than they did in many ways but she was still more interested in meeting them than anything else at the moment.“And who is this?”Her gesture was to the remaining member of the group of legionaries, who unlike the others had been sitting quietly and had barely made a sound or really looked in our direction since entering. If it had been anyone else I would have felt uncomfortable and ignored, but I knew that there was nothing personal involved with this man’s reactions.“That human mountain there is Molgrormr. Until we met Falid he was the strongest man I knew.”Molgrormr Night-Bear was sitting in a chair that while was identical to all the other in the taverns appeared utterly too small to contain his enormous bulk. Unlike Falid, Molgrormr was not a towering specimen of a Nord but was only a few centimetres taller than myself, but certainly made up for it with overwhelming size. Dressed in the same legion tunics as the others he almost appeared obese, but that was a mistake that far too many people had made. One didn’t become the champion wrestler of an entire Legion by being unfit or fat.“You two have met someone stronger than Mol?” Ozzarious laughed, and the rest of the table suddenly appeared even more interested than they were before. “You hear buddy? You might actually have a challenge one day!”The big man’s eyes lift up from where he had been thoughtfully chewing away on a chunk of hardtack, looking at Ozzarious and then over to Viconia an myself. His shaven skull was a mass of black and purple tattoos in swirling runic patterns but despite the fierceness of his appearance, his face was serene and friendly.“Hello Kaius. Hello pretty lady.”The amused expressions were not lost on Viconia, especially me as she looked between Molgrormr and the rest of us. “What…”“Mol isn’t the sharpest gladius in the cohort.” Ozzarious said, cutting her off in mid-sentence. “He was never the brightest to begin with but taking as many hits to the head as he has, certainly hasn’t helped.”The dumb, but happy expression on Molgrormr’s face was something that took a considerable amount of effort to remove and usually consisted of something threatening his friends. When those rare times occurred it quickly became clear why he was one of the few legionaries within the assault squads. He was inexhaustible, indefatigable and utterly devoted to the Legion and his comrades and besides a Dwemer automatron there was no sturdier being to hold a shield wall.Within seconds he had returned to slowly eating his meal and taking the occasional gulps from his flagon. He may have only been slightly taller than myself but he was almost twice as wide, and with hands large enough to cover my entire face if he so desired. This, combined with his impressive strength and stamina ensured his constant title of wrestling champion of the 14th.“So that’s all of us.” I said to Viconia, seeing her slowly studying all of them as we made ourselves comfortable on the cheaply fashioned chairs. “They’re a bit of a ragged bunch but some of the finest people you’ll ever meet.”“Appears so.” She said, a smile growing on her face as amused chuckles echoed from the surrounding group.“So, Kai… I have to ask…” Said Danhragoth sheepishly as Ozzarious slid a filled flagon across the table to me. “Are you really…”“A Blade?”His expression paled slightly and he nodded, the strange nervousness affecting him from the mere mention of the word.“Yeah. Both of us are.”“So that means…”“That you can relax. The Blades have bigger things to be concerned with than a cohort’s bootlegging operation.”The embarrassed smile was somewhat hilarious and I couldn’t help but match it with one of my own. Every Legion had specialists, both official and unofficial and Danhragoth was one of the several men and women who specialised in the esoteric. Predominately working with alcohol and other luxuries of a similar nature, Danhragoth had a somewhat amazing knack of being able to procure items usually considered contraband within the walls of Fort Ironhand. A feat made ever more impressive by the way how Legate Quintillius and his cronies had attempted to gain their own monopoly and stamp out the competition.“See, you have nothing to worry about.” Domahik laughed. “Besides, if Kai was really going to rat you out, he would’ve done it years ago.”“The Nine know it was tempting for ourselves.” Added Rexuge to another chorus of laughs.“What has been happening since I left?” I asked to the group. “I see everyone is still in one piece at least.”Ozzarious was nodding, but there was a sombre undertone to his expression. “Surprisingly enough Vvardenfell has been quiet. There was the usual amount of unrest and fighting between the Ashlander tribes and skirmishes between the Redoran and Hlaalu but nothing serious. After Ald’ruhn though…”“We saw the city after the daedra attacked.” Pibrina said, her typically cold exterior cracking slightly in a way that was mirrored by the others. “There wasn’t much left of the city.”“From what we heard it was just as bad as Kvatch.”There was a series of nods from around the table, and I knew how they all felt. Viconia and I especially were some of the few people in the Empire who would have known what it was like to stand in the middle of a city murdered by daedra.“Did you hear how they had resurrected the Emperor Crab?”I nodded in Domahik’s direction. “I bet a lot of people didn’t believe it, but I think Viconia and I have seen enough insane things these past months to let us believe anything.”“Despite how I don’t understand how a giant mudcrab would have been able to take on a horde of daedra.”Gesturing to one of the several tavern maids and waiting for her to refill his own flagon, Ozzarious smiled grimly. “Skar wasn’t just giant, he was enormous. They had built the council chambers and even the noble manor district into and under his shell. Fuck, even one of his claws had been hollowed out for a tavern.”“Not that it made much difference.” Pibrina muttered darkly. “The city was razed and the giant crab was killed again anyway. Must’ve made a dent in the daedric army though, ‘cause they haven’t really attacked Vvardenfell since.”“We could use a couple of Emperor Crabs right now I reckon.” Danhragoth’s simple statement was met with a handful of nods, but just as many shrugs.“It didn’t help the Redoran at Ald’ruhn, and I doubt that even a dozen of them would help us here anyway.” Taking the opportunity to drain his own mug filled with ale while the tavern maid was nearby, Rexuge gave her one of his best winning smiles and a seductive wink that entirely failed to impress. “Just how many daedra are out there, Kai?”“A lot.” I replied simply, grabbing a flagon for myself from Ozzarious and grinning as I saw how it was filled with Colovian brandy. “It’s the largest army in Tamriel’s history as far as anyone can determine.”“I lost interest in the numbers as soon as there were too many to count on my fingers.” Meliinne added with a mixture of blunt truth and sarcasm. “Besides, when it all comes down to it, all their numbers won’t mean anything. Both them and us will be forced to fight us one on one and if they are close enough to kill us, they are close enough for us to kill them.”“There is safety in numbers though.”“Yeah,” Ozzarious added quickly to Danhragoth’s despondent comment. “But remember, we have Mol; who is two or three at least.”The big legionary appeared entirely oblivious to everything and everyone around him, blissfully chewing away on his hunk of hardtack as though it was the greatest sweetroll in the Empire. What caught my eye however was the strange writhing and signs of movement under his tunic and my look of confusion only increased when a tiny furred head popped out from under his collar and looked about.“Um… Mol… What is that…”The grins on everyone’s faces were obvious, as was the surprise on Viconia and my own but it still took several long seconds for the big man to realise that he was the centre of attention. His lack of attention was certainly not helped by the fact that he was busy breaking off a chunk of his own meal and held it to the tiny rodent sticking out of his shirt with twitching whiskers and grasping paws.Looking between us all as the rest of our comrades giggled and tried to stifle their laughter, Molgrormr was left looking confused and staring at me. “What is, what?”“Um, your friend there. You haven’t introduced us.”Slowly, the look of dawning realisation consumed his expression of bewilderment and his habitual smile returned. “Oh. You mean Squeak. Say hello Squeak.”The tiny animal, partially hanging out of Molgrormr’s tunic was too busy munching away on the gifted food to answer, using its tiny little paws with considerable dexterity while keeping both eyes on its surroundings. Its grey and black streaked fur looked soft and extremely well cared for and besides the fact that it home appeared to be Molgrormr’s clothing it appeared very comfortable around him and other people.“Squeak says hello.”“Just what is Squeak?” Viconia asked carefully, keeping her tone and voice neutral as a result of considerable practice.“Squeak is my friend. He's an Aetherius Squirrel.”“Um… Mol… That’s a ferret.”His smile changed in an instant at my words, turning into an expression of shock as he covered his pet’s ears with hands large enough to crush it into paste. “Why would you say such a mean thing? Squeak will take it personally.”Completely oblivious to Molgrormr’s reaction, and paying little heed to the fact that the big man was covering most of its body with his hands, Squeak continued happily gnawing away on the hardtack. Somehow the giant of a Nord had a habit of rescuing random animals and creatures, typically smaller kinds of creatures like rabbits and rats, but his strange ability to befriend almost anything had caused issues before. Especially during the one time he was found feeding a cliff racer.“Sorry, the lighting in here isn’t really good and I couldn’t see him properly. Sorry Squeak.”The expression of horror and shock changed back to his grin and he glanced down at his unusual pet. “Squeak says it’s okay. He gets that a lot.”As Molgrormr returned to sharing his food with Squeak and washing his meal down with gulps from his flagon, I simply raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ozzarious sitting at my side.“Don’t look at me.” He said with a smile. “You know how he is.”“All too well. Where did he find this one?”“Near one of the towns east of Whiterun. It keeps him entertained and out of trouble.”“I’m really thankful that his pets are typically furry and have a normal number of legs, although I wouldn’t be surprised if he manages to make friends with a scrib one day.”We all laughed at Domahik’s half-jest but I could sense the nervousness under our conversations. Part of it I knew was how I had reappeared in their lives, unharmed and a member of an organisation of spies and assassins. I knew that all of them, even those such as Ozzarious who had known me for most of my life would have been trying to work out just exactly who I was. None of them knew the truth, nor would they be able to find out that I only became a Blade some months after I deserted but I knew that it left them all wondering where my loyalties lay. What made it worse was that I was also wondering the same thing, trying to understand how and why I had deserted such friends the way I did.The conversations though slowly picked up as we gradually relaxed, assisted by the alcohol we were consuming. Unlike most nights in a tavern or inn we, and all the other legionaries were being somewhat restrained with our drinks. The 14th had only just been granted permission to rotate through the city on a nightly basis for recreation but not a man or woman with a Dragon brand was under all illusions of what that meant. The battle against the daedra was going to be soon and while the rumours among the soldiery was running rampart with guesses and estimates, I knew that the war council was being held in the morning.Our stories were soon being mutually shared, Viconia and myself speaking of some of our experiences in service to the Blades, talking about Glenvar, the destruction of Kvatch, seeking the relics of the Crusader and establishing the Order of the Nine. Unsurprisingly most of my old comrades had heard various tales regarding our adventures even in faraway Vvardenfell, but somehow none of them had ever considered the overwhelming coincidence of me sharing the name with the Hero of Kvatch.“I mean it’s not like you are the only Kaius Desin in the Empire.” Ozzarious said, having to raise his voice over the increasingly loud singing from the Nordic mercenaries on the other side of the tavern. We had been there for a couple of hours at least by now but my vampirism as it did was increasing my resistance to the alcohol I was consuming.“Yeah! We all just assumed that it was some other Kaius Desin. A competent one!”My two fingered archer’s insult was directed at most of them now but there was no malice in it, nor was there any in the laughter from myself and the others.“Well, just who else would be able to save the Empire from utter destruction? You, Pibrina?”“I’d be able to give a good go of it. How a forester like yourself has managed to get this far is beyond me...”Having moved closer to Molgrormr, Meliinne gave a smile in Viconia’s direction while making twinkling lights float through the air where Squeak was busy pawing and trying to catch them. His giant owner was also smiling happily at the sight but was as oblivious to everything else as he normally was. “Maybe it’s not Kai at all.”Viconia had remained by my side, choosing only to drink wine and the occasional brandy and refusing to touch the cheaper ales and meads. An eyebrow raised as she lifted a glass in Meliinne’s direction, smiling with one of her more sinister grins. “Finally, a woman of intelligence and breeding. I’m glad one of you worked it out at least.”“Oooh... I see what the go is here. Behind every man is a greater woman.” The more he drank, the more Rexuge’s natural tendency to chase anything female was steadily increasing and more than one tavern maid had to brush off his attentions. Normally this was the sort of situation where he would have gone after someone such as Viconia, but a drunken mercenary had found out the hard way only a short time earlier. All of the males within sight range had instinctively winced from Viconia’s actions, and felt sympathetic pain as the Nord hobbled away.“If that’s the case, then where is your greater woman?” Viconia replied smoothly. “But then, I suppose that with the bar set so low that there are too many to choose from.”The jeers and catcalls from the others at Rexuge’s expense left him suddenly taking another mouthful of ale in an attempt to cover up his sudden embarrassment and I felt the clothed, yet warm sensation of Viconia placing a leg over my lap.“I think I love you Vicky.” Ozzarious laughed. “I can see why Kai does too.”I choked exclamation made me almost snort in a mouthful of brandy, but Viconia simply laughed. “You hear that Kaius? If things don’t work out with us I will not be lacking in suitors.”“Somehow I doubted that was ever an issue with you. After all we…”My reply was cut off with the sudden and loud cry from the other side of the tavern, a cry of anger that was forceful enough to stop the bard in mid breath and punctuated by the sound of flesh impacting wood. The alcohol had been flowing a little too freely and some were becoming heavily inebriated, but none as much as the Iron Company mercenaries. They had been drinking longer and harder than anyone else, but now the results of such activities became apparent.At one of the several tables surrounded by gamblers, an increasingly drunk Nord had finally lost most of his coin and with it the last strands of self-control. The table’s contents were thrown violently across the floor, a fist smashed another player across the mouth and before anyone could really react he had used his wooden flagon to knock one of the legionary players out cold.The silence that fell across the drinking hall was only broken by the sudden and instantaneous reaction by every other legionary within it. As a single entity, every single one of the branded soldiers had risen to their feet, the activities that they had been undertaking only moments before completely forgotten. Even myself and the others had been stilled by the sudden violence, our conversation stopping in mid breath as we slowly, carefully rose from our chairs.The unconscious legionary may have been at the centre of the sudden silence, but he was not the primary source of attention. The Nordic sellswords who had been taking part in the dice game were busy scrabbling across the floor for the fallen coins and bets, and the dozen or so seemed entirely oblivious that they were being stared at by several dozen cold-faced comrades of the man they had knocked out.Normally such actions against a legionary would have resulted in an instant and irreversible brawl as every other legionary went to their aid, but there was one being with a Dragon brand that was instilling discipline in the drunken soldiers. Legate Xemseus was still present, as were a handful of Tribunes from the 9th and 14th Legion and these Legion officers were the only reason why the Nords hadn’t been swamped in a pile of bodies.Xemseus knew this all too well, his scaled head turning between the downed legionary and the scuffling Nords who were slowly beginning to realise the threat that only legion discipline was holding back. One by one they were coming to a stop as a clear space opened between the two sides, their fingers clenching the copper and silver septims or quickly pocketing them as the silence dragged on. The Argonian Legate however looked about and sighed loudly enough to be heard by most of the tavern, wiping the last dregs of his own flagon away from his lipless mouth and placing his coin pouch on top of the bar.“What?” He exclaimed, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “Do you all want an order in writing or something? Get stuck in!”Realisation was slow in minds clouded with alcohol, but even as the Argonian Legate stepped forward rolling his own sleeves up the men and women of both Legions were now fiercely smiling at the collection of Nordic mercenaries. For the bearded, tattooed warriors the understanding was a little slower in the seconds after the Legate’s simple statement, a statement that was clearly underlined by the way Molgrormr picked up his chair and casually snapped off a leg as easily as it was a chicken’s wishbone.The makeshift club was joined by the other pieces of the chair as they were handed to the rest of my old comrades, but by then the Nords had been swamped by a mass of punching and kicking Legionaries, the men and women of the 9th and 14th providing very personal lessons in the fighting skill of the Legions.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The murmuring of dozens of people was warring with the gentle clouds of incense wafting through the cathedral’s interior, the words heavy with expectation and yet indistinct at the same time. With my enhanced hearing it would have been all too easy to focus and listen in to the varied conversations but my mind was far from being capable of focussing. Emotions and sensations were writhing within me as I took up my position near the tiered seating that had been erected in the heart of Bruma’s cathedral and I was left trying to work out if I felt more anxious or excited.Every commander and individual with authority in Bruma was present, filling the hallowed interior of the largest temple to Talos in the entire empire with their own excitement and anxiety. Tribunes, mercenary captains, Fighters Guildsmen, mages, various commanders of the city guard and militia and members of the Blades. Martin and Countess Carvain were also present, dressed in their own regal outfits but unlike the robes and cloak of Bruma’s Ruler, Martin was dressed in the full panoply of war. Like many of those present, the men and women of the city’s defenders were dressed in their armour and baring arms, despite the potential heresy of bringing weapons to such a holy place. Of all of the gods though, it wasn’t that unusual to be armed and armoured in a temple dedicated to the War God of Mankind.It was still taking me some getting used to seeing Martin dressed in anything but robes and the accruements of a priest of Akatosh, but it was even more so seeing him wearing the literal breastplate of Tiber Septim. I knew it was a statement of his intentions and a means of bolstering the morale and faith of those expected to be facing down a daedric horde, but it was certainly becoming more and more difficult seeing the calm, quiet priest under the determined authority of the man who wore the Amulet of Kings.Besides the obvious distractions, especially my presence within a holy place putting pressure into my mind I found myself idly rubbing the various parts of my body that hurt from the night before. The brawl within the Cuddly Fawn had not lasted long; a handful of drunken Nords against a numerically superior force of Legionaries never really had a chance to begin with but once the initial dust had settled Xemseus had ordered a stop to the fighting. It was partially hilarious seeing the small troop of guards arrive shortly after to find no trace of a brawl occurring beyond a handful of legionaries assisting in clearing the wreckage, a small collection of coin purses being added to Xemseus’ own to pay for the damage and combatants on both sides taking care of injures that had had been sustained. I had personally seen more than one example of sellswords and legionaries already buying each other drinks while showing visible signs of their fight only a few minutes before, which added to the guards’ confusion before they determined they weren’t needed.The brawl however had put an end to the night’s revelry and with the hour growing late, Viconia and I had said our farewells to my old friends and we returned to our lodgings. The days ahead were looking progressively darker, especially with the eve of battle approaching ever nearer but there was no doubt in my mind that the darker recesses of my soul were yearning for it.Slowly the gathering those with authority was quietening as they took up the available seating, or alternatively stood in a position where they could look on the centre of the cathedral. The central hall had been transformed, the dozens of pews shifted and moved to clear an enormous space where the floor had also been changed to suit the needs of war. Ten metres across and just as large tall, an enormous length of canvass had been laid out and flattened before a considerable amount of time and effort had been put into drawing and painting upon its surface.There was no way for it not to be the centre of attention, the painstaking efforts of transcribing a legion map onto such a massive surface was considerable enough, let alone the fact that the details were incredible to behold. Under normal circumstances such a work would have been a prized piece of art or decoration, but like all things war seemed to have tainted everything by its touch.“Is everyone present and accounted for?”Dressed in Legion plate, the Tribune looked over the room from one side to another, listening to the chorus of voices as they announced their presence in turn. There were easily over a hundred men and women of all races within the cathedral, seated upon the purpose-built tiered seats that allowed everyone to gaze upon the map with ease.“Kaius Desin.” I announced in turn to the Tribune as his gaze moved over the small collection of Blades standing near Martin and the Countess. “There may be others who will join us but I don’t have any confirmation at the moment.”Nodding, the Tribune continued looking over the last few commanders standing near our small group of Blades, but I couldn’t help but notice Jauffre and Martin’s expression as my announcement caught their attention.“Made a new friend have we, Kaius?” Martin said quietly, as not to disturb the Tribune as the last of the commanders announced themselves. “I didn’t know that we were missing anyone.”“We aren’t.” Jauffre’s eyes burned with curiosity as we met each other’s gazes. “You know something that I don’t?”The object that I had found resting on Viconia’s and my bed upon our return from the Cuddly Fawn was tucked by my side under the folds of my cloak and its presence was strangely comforting. “I don’t have anything to say whether they will join us for this meeting, but let’s just say you’ll know them if you see them.”“You’ve been around us for too long.” This time it was Belisarius who chuckled under his breath by Martin’s side. “You aren’t supposed to keep secrets from us, you know.”“It’s not by my choice.” I replied. “But it’s nothing that any of us will need to worry about.”All of their gazes, and especially Jauffre’s expression that suggested he thought otherwise were on me momentarily as the Tribune finished his duty and turned to the one being that for the comment commanded supreme authority.“The council of war is assembled, General.”Dressed in the full plate of a Legate but with a recent addition of a crimson cloak, Xemseus had been standing silently at the very head of the enormous map. Since the public disgrace and arrest of Quintillius there had no longer been any other contenders for the command of the Brumian Army, and as a result Xemseus had gained a rank rarely seen within the Empire for decades. Legates could command a single Legion, but to command more than one required a General.“My lords and ladies, fellow commanders, and guests. The time has come to engage the daedra.”Silence fell as surely as a stone flung from a trebuchet as despite everyone knowing the reasons for such a meeting to be taking place, it was another thing to have such a reason voiced out loud.Pausing for a moment, Xemseus cast his own gaze across the assembled men and women and I couldn’t help but watch his reaction. Even for an Argonian his face was an impassive mask, emotionless and as cold as the blood in his veins but there were the hints of the same confident smile that he wore the night before when he had fought in a tavern brawl like a common soldier.“In three days’ time, our combined forces will sally out and take up positions a short distance away from the city and draw the daedric forces in open battle. The 9th Legion and elements of the 14th have already begun the necessary preparations, but I now call upon you all to support us in defending Bruma and the Empire.”If the silence before was deafening, then the one that fell through the cathedral was all-encompassing and could have destroyed Oblivion itself. Barely anyone breathed, but there were lots of shocked expressions among those present.“Attack the daedra?” Of everyone in the room, there were only a handful who matched Xemseus’ authority and it was Countess Carvain who was the first to voice her objections. The rumours had been going throughout the city for days now, but the official statement was more than enough to shock her. “You are abandoning the city’s defences?”Xemseus was still as cold as ever, turning and nodding to the Countess. “Yes we are, your Highness. This is not a battle that we can win from behind the walls of a city, even if we truly had the numbers to hold Bruma.”“But with the force of two Legions and the city militia…”“Your Highness,” Now his cold expression infected his tone and the stare that he provided one of the most powerful women in the Empire said all that he needed to. “This is not a decision that I and the other Legion officers have made rashly. Our plan has taken everything into account, but more importantly we can’t defeat the daedra by remaining behind stone walls. As long as the Oblivion Gates remain open their forces are quite literally uncountable, while our forces are very much limited.” Slowly, he turned and made a simple gesture to one of the few people standing near him, a Breton dressed in platemail and a rich surcoat of coloured livery. “Through sheer numbers and attrition our walls and soldiers would eventually be overrun if we were to try to hold them and remaining on the defensive will not allow victory. To that end, and as our forces will be gaining significant reinforcements in the days ahead we have a chance of victory.”As the Breton stepped forward to the sound of metal plates rubbing together, Xemseus’ smile broke into one that was full of promise. “I am proud to introduce Duke Adeistrard Luseenne of Wayrest; one of the commanders of the Oblivion Crusade.”“My lords and ladies.” The Duke said, his voice thick with an accent of Highrock as he bowed to the sudden surge of applause. My own heart was slowly beginning to race as I took in his heraldry, the colours and symbols of his homeland partially hidden under an unmistakable red diamond that had been sewn over them. “I thank you for your welcome and I bring news of the Crusade. As third in command I have been sent here to assist with the liaison and preparations of the battle ahead of us, but let me say now to quell any rumours. The bulk of the Crusade’s forces are currently traversing the Pale Pass, and will arrive at Bruma in the next forty-eight hours.”The applause this time was accompanied with cheers and roars of approval that shook the stillness out of the air. Again, rumours had been running rampant throughout the city about the crusade’s proximity but no one had believed or known that they were indeed so close. To be told in person by one of its members that it was less than two days away was incredible, but the expression on the Duke and the General’s faces was enough to leave me feeling a chill up my spine.“The presence of the Crusade has been the reason why we have been waiting and preparing for this moment, and with their arrival the time has come to truly strike back against Mehrunes forces. This is certainly not a time for complacency however, as you all will soon be aware just what we are facing. Darius?”Of the several men and women who were standing with General Xemseus, there was a couple that I actually knew. Since Quintillius’ arrest his rank and position as commander of the 14th had fallen to one of his Tribunes; Darius Laecelia. Now Legate of the 14th instead of the commander of the 6th Casta, he was one of the few Tribunes that I actually felt confident about leading my old Legion. The 6th was a veteran, well-run Casta that had earned itself the moniker of ‘Deathheads’ from the Dunmer populations from its experiences fighting necromancer cults around Gnisis.“Good morning to you all. The current strength of our forces is just under seventeen thousand, two thirds of which are the legionaries of the 9th and 14th Legions. Of our non-legion troops, we have an auxiliary force consisting of three thousand militia and city guard, and almost a thousand assorted mercenaries. Unfortunately, our reserve is extremely limited, as we currently only have the 1st Brumian Cohort and the Blades.”The numbers sounded as heavy as lead as the newly promoted Legate of the 14th spoke them out loud. While normally such a force would have been incredible only a few short months earlier it was almost the equivalent of a bucket of water compared to the entirely of Lake Rumare. It was a sobering prospect, and one that was not lost on many of the attendees judging but the expressions I could see.“We were never going to have the numerical advantage, but the Legions have a long history of fighting against numerically superior foes.” Xemseus said over the rising murmurs throughout the cathedral. “What we may lack in numbers we will make up for with choosing and dominating the terrain, and our tactics and superior capabilities.”“Our legion forces make up the backbone of our defence.” There was no sign of emotion on Darius or any of the other Legion commander’s faces as they conducted themselves with the typical legion discipline, continuing shortly after Xemseus finished speaking. “While both Legions are technically less than full strength due to natural levels of attrition these past months, both are still capable of deploying just shy of six thousand Legionaries, nineteen hundred Foresters and nineteen hundred Extraordinarii. As for our auxiliaries, we are deploying a further four thousand infantry consisting of militia, city guards, the castle men-at-arms and our mercenary companies. The remaining two thousand militia are alternatively archers, crossbowmen and assorted skirmishers who will be placed directly under the command of Tribune Alenidir.”Shorter than the other Tribunes, there wasn’t much that really set Alenindir aside from his fellow commanders but he was definitely someone I knew from my time within the 14th. He was the highest ranking Forester in the 14th and almost legendary with his skills with a bow and stealth even for a Valenwood-born Bosmer.Making gestures to the collection of wooden markers being placed onto the map by the pair of tribunes from the 9th, Darius continued without pause. “The Legion specialists will also be supporting the main force, with their civilian counterparts being assigned as per their relevant skillsets. Members of the Mages Guild will be operating under the command of Centurion Ilenalam, and combined will provide a cadre of fifty-two spell casters, and the city priests and healers will fall under the command of Centurion Hjolritte. We are still gathering up the names and details of all those individuals with abilities in restoration magicka, but preliminary counts provide us with estimates of approximately two hundred and fifty healers of varying capabilities.”I watched as the two assistants finished placing down the wooden markers on the map, feeling the clench of my stomach at the forces that they represented. Nothing was being held back for this battle, and Darius made a simple gesture at the handful of markers shaped in the various forms of siege engines.“Our engineers number one hundred and seventy-five, but are distributed across the siege weapons we have available. As we speak the city engineers are in the process of dismantling the devices placed on the walls and preparing them for deployment. In total we have seven trebuchets, sixteen catapults, eight ballistae and nineteen scorpios. Typically, the biggest difficulties we face with such weapons is their supply of ammunition rather than their actual deployment.”Of the dozens of individuals clustered around the enormous map there were some who were quite obviously not belonging to the fighting elements of Bruma’s defenders. Their clothes were rich and not designed for anything resembling the mud and blood of battlefields, but Legate Darius gestured to them and provided a bow of respect as he continued.“The Craftsmen and Traders guilds have our utmost gratitude in their support these previous weeks and the city fletchers have to be commended. Our total supply of arrows and bolts, combined with the Legion stocks now numbers over a million, and our scorpions and ballistae each have over forty projectiles each.”The numbers were staggering and were more than enough to draw a gasp of surprise from the majority of the crowd but in my mind I was calculating. A million was a considerable number, but I knew that most Foresters were capable of loosing six arrows a minute, at least initially. Even with the support of restoration mages, healers and stamina potions it was immensely fatiguing hauling back on a bowstring every ten seconds. For the militia who had been hunters and poachers and those who had found a crossbow pressed into their hands I estimated that most would be pressed to loose an arrow or bolt every fifteen seconds in the initial stages of the battle. With the available ammunition, three thousand, nine hundred archers and crossbowmen, loosing an arrow or bolt every ten to fifteen seconds would only provide about an hour of sustained volleys. A considerable length of time in terms of a battle, but thinking pragmatically and taking into account the numbers arrayed against us, we mightn’t be able to survive that first hour anyway.There was mild applause from the crowd and the Guild leaders nodded in return to Legate Darius as he took a step backwards to allow Xemseus to take the centre once again. The Argonian commander was taking in the sea of expressions that were facing him but there was still no real trace of emotion on his own.“Only a blind fool would fail to understand that we are significantly outmatched in numbers.” He said, his words instantly sobering any tiny trace of hope within the cathedral. “And so we will fight the daedra where we hold all the advantages.”Slowly, he moved across the taut canvass, his armoured feet pressed down over the numerous markings depicting county Bruma as the two assistants continued adding wooden markers depicting both the defending forces and the daedric army. I knew with a glance and a quick calculation that each of the five centimetre blocks represented a thousand soldiers, but there was something downright disturbing with the way the daedric army was being represented. Their wooden marker blocks, painted a deep red like a pool of blood were twice the size of the blue markers of Bruma’s defenders and there were easily over a hundred of them.I wasn’t the only person to note such a simple fact, especially how it was one thing to simply discuss the daedric army in terms of raw numbers that held no real meaning. But to see the seventeen blue markers arrayed in a slightly curved line facing off against a hundred and fifty, larger red ones was sobering to say the least.“For the past weeks the 9th has been surveying the area for a location suitable for the upcoming battle. The position chosen is four kilometres to the south east of the city, located in the direct vicinity of the Jannustiris marble quarry and approximately two kilometres away from major roads.” Slowly, walking over and around the site where the assistants were shuffling the blue markers into their respective positions, Xemseus continued on, his eyes constantly wandering across his audience and making everyone feel as though he was talking to them directly. “The terrain around this area is sparsely wooded, consisting predominately of wheat farms and a few dedicated to livestock. Overall the land itself is rocky, undulating and broken to the south and east, but flat and easily traversable to the west and north. This provides our forces with easy access and the ability to deploy our full strength in a short space of time to the desired location, while hindering the mobility of the daedra in intercepting us.”“The site of our formations will be placed directly between the quarry and the ridgeline to the north, straddling the access road into the quarry. The ridgeline extends for approximately six kilometres to the north, and consists of an almost unbroken cliff ranging from two metres, to fifteen metres in height the further north it goes. The southern flank is secured by the quarry itself, and the continuation of the ridgeline to the south until it reaches the nearest forest two kilometres away. Both the forest and ridgeline continue for a considerable distance and while not as steep or containing an unbroken cliff face as the north, is still significantly difficult to traverse with speed or in large numbers.”Looking over the map I could easily see why this position had been chosen by Xemsues and his commanders. The terrain favoured the defender heavily, the high ground was defendable or almost outright unpassable by any forces approaching from the east and south. It would also be extremely difficult for the daedric forces to hold any formations, as the terrain itself would compress and funnel them in towards the centre where the terrain flattened between the quarry and northern ridgeline.“How deep is the quarry?” Asked one of the commanders of the city militia, his eyes moving between the map and Xemseus.“At the lowest point? Six metres. With this position, both the quarry and northern ridgeline provide us with considerable protection for our flanks and a commanding view of the battlefield itself.” With a nod to one of the assistants who had finished placing the last of the red markers, Xemseus stepped back a little as a different set of markers were begun being placed in front of the blue. “The terrain will naturally force the daedra to concentrate on the centre of our formation, but we cannot rely on the fighting ability of the legions to be able to hold them at bay. Field fortifications and defences have already commenced being constructed at this location but in order to keep the initiative we will not be able to undertake any major efforts until our forces are in position, lest we give away our intentions too early. We want them to attack us, but not until we are ready.”“What if they don’t attack?”Xemseus nodded to one of the several mercenary captains sitting near his fellows. Lagaa was seated nearby with a look that almost appeared sexual in the excitement of the battle to come, but it was certainly not an emotion that was shared by very many others at all in the cathedral.“Once our forces are in position and the defensive preparations are nearing completion,” A handful of blue markers had been shifted, now placed in between the markers identifying fortifications and the daedric host itself. “The Extraordinarii will commence hit-and-run attacks against the main daedric force, preferably making themselves a threat to the portals themselves. Reports from our scouting forces have shown that the majority of the daedric army is located further to the west of the portals in a position suitable for intercepting any attempts to move south. We believe that a cavalry assault on the daedra defending the portals will draw the bulk of their forces away, which we can then lead into our position.”As he spoke the pair of assistants, armed now with a pair of lengthy sticks with the appearance of repurposed brooms without bristles shifted the enormous collection of red markers and pushed the pair of blue ones back towards our main force. Less than two thousand cavalry against tens of thousands of daedra was not something that boded well for the men and women who would be expected to undertake such a mission, even if they were Extraordinarii.“Our role is not to defeat the daedra outright.” His words cut through the building unease like a knife, and Xemseus was the literal paragon of discipline and confidence. “Our role and mission is to engage them in battle, bleed their forces and lock them in place. The terrain and our position, combined with our defensive siege craft will negate their numbers and channel them into a fight that favours us, but we will ultimately be the anvil awaiting the hammer. Lord Adeistrard?”Taking some steps away and off the enormous canvass map, Xemseus handed his role over to the armoured representative of our approaching reinforcements who immediately continued on with the war council. Duke Adeistrard was confident and poised as I had come to expect from the nobility of High Rock, however unlike my previous encounter with a Breton Duke he was an entirely different person.“The Oblivion Crusade is now officially the largest gathering of cavalry in the history of Tamriel, and one of the largest armies to have gathered in the past two millennia.” He said, calmly and simply as though such a weighted statement was a regular occurrence. “Forty-three knightly orders are represented and while each Order’s contribution varies, the current strength of the Crusade is over sixty-five thousand.”The resulting gasps and expressions of shock was a ripple that flowed across the room, punctuated by sharp intakes of breath, appreciative whistles and stunned silence from most. For his part the Duke barely flinched or changed expression, a grim smile playing over his face. “The Crusade’s forces consist of troops from six different provinces; Highrock, Cyrodiil, Hammerfell, Skyrim, Orsinium and Morrowind and one in every six are mounted heavy cavalry. Twenty-two thousand are men-at-arms from the various Knightly Orders, but a larger number of our infantry hail from Hammerfell and Skyrim. The holds of Whiterun, Falkreath, Riften and Markarth have all pledged between a thousand and fifteen hundred of their hold troops to our banner, and both the Crowns and Forebears of Hammerfell provided almost ten thousand soldiers each.”Each and every announcement was staggering, and I like many were listening with our jaws on the floor at the simple statements from the Duke. Not only from the numbers being so casually discussed but from the simple fact of where the soldiers had come from. The provinces, and even the individual factions within each region were never truly united. From the holds of Skyrim, the factions of Hammerfell and the Great Houses of Morrowind wars and skirmishes were so commonplace that most of the fighting experience of the Legions was from constantly intervening between both sides. Months or years previous it would have been unheard of for so many to have united under one banner, especially between groups such as the Crowns and Forebears who were notorious from fighting a bloody civil war for generations.“Both Great Houses of Hlaau and Redoran are represented with six hundred retainers each and six thousand Orsimer under the command of King Gortwog’s champion; Bugrat gro-Shagrat make up the core of our heavy infantry.”The guttural chanting from Lagaa and a handful of other orcs present was not lost on anyone as they responded to their homeland’s contribution to the Oblivion Crusade. While a relatively small prestige of the overall force, six thousand battle-ready orcs was definitely something that would have put pause to a full-strength Legion, probably even two.At that moment I was growing distracted, a gnawing sensation in the back of my mind growing ever more present as the Duke began detailing the strength and composition of the Oblivion Crusade. I had my doubts that such a force had existed since the time that Tiber Septim was still a mortal man, but it was not the Duke’s words that were eating away at me. It was a strange yet familiar sensation that was forcing a smile to my face that was distracting me from what was going on.“And lastly,” the Duke said after detailing the make up on the numerous Knightly Orders present within the Crusade. “sixteen giants.”“Giants?” Like many of the Nords or those with experience within Skyrim, the Nordic centurion from the 14th looked even more shocked at the Duke’s final statement than he had at all of the other figures and numbers that he had been listing. “How in the name of Talos are giants part of the Crusade?”“During the advance through Markarth Hold the Crusade’s vanguard encountered a daedric host pillaging the region. This force had been responsible for razing several villages and towns and apparently had also inflicted significant losses among the hold’s population of giants. While they aren’t officially part of the Crusade and we do not have the proper means of communicating with them, individuals from several of their tribes have followed us from Skyrim. We have no means of confirming but judging from the way they have actively assisted us against daedric warbands we believe that they will take part in the battle to come.”The sensation was growing stronger in my mind, as was its familiarity and to the confused expressions of Jauffre and Viconia I was soon looking around throughout the rest of the cathedral. For the moment I was blind and deaf to the words and details from the Duke and the other commanders as I began seeking out the source of the sensation that was becoming ever stronger.“What are you doing?” hissed Jauffre as I turned and began excusing my way through the small press of Blades surrounding us and Martin. I could feel his eyes on me as I moved to the back of the group and for a moment Martin was also distracted by my strange actions.“This is no time to act like a wael.” Viconia added as I managed to move free of the group, twisting and turning and allowing my instincts to guide me. “Is acting normal for more than an hour too difficult a concept to grasp?”“They’re here.” I said simply, feeling my instincts and the sensation growing even more acute as I moved towards the back of the cathedral and to the rear of where General Xemseus, his subordinates and the Duke were continuing with the war council.My strange movements had by no gained more than the attentions of a handful of Blades, Viconia and Jauffre and now more and more of the council were glancing between me and the Duke who was finishing up his announcements of the Crusades strength. Even Xemseus was now looking between me and the increasing exasperated Jauffre with an expression that was a mixture of amusement and annoyance.“Are you quite alright Sir Desin?” The Argonian commander said after I continued a few more paces towards the altar at the very heart of the cathedral.“I am General, it’s just the others that I mentioned earlier have arrived.”To those clustered around the map the cathedral itself appeared entirely empty. A handful of guards were stationed near the handful of entrances into the Cathedral or to the darkened staircases to the crypts and priest chambers but otherwise it was entirely deserted. The only real movement besides myself was the tapestries gently fluttering in the breeze and the tiny flames on the candles and chandeliers quietly burning.“This is no time for games, Sir Desin.”My smile couldn’t be wiped away despite the harsh tones from the Argonian General as I peered into the seemingly empty expanse around the Cathedral’s altar. The building noise from the council members was beginning to echo throughout the enormous interior, but I wasn’t paying them any attention. In fact, I was doing the complete opposite and ignoring all of the sights and sounds and sensing the handful of hollow spaces scattered about.“There is a reason why we typically don’t leave survivors.” Came a voice from the shadows, a familiar one filled with humour. “They tend to work out our techniques.”The voice turned from a shadow to a silhouette; a silhouette of a short, hooded figure wrapped in a leather cloak. Although he hadn’t appeared to move a muscle, to everyone else he had simply appeared from the air itself, condensing from the darkness and flickering candlelight with the promise of silent violence.His words, and appearance certainly didn’t help many of the war council whose nerves were already taut with the prospect of coming battle again the daedra. The Blades surrounding Martin certainly didn’t appreciate the appearance of the shadowy figure, or how he was soon joined by a handful of others who blinked into existence in various positions. As a single entity, the Blades immediately stepped between Martin and the now-occupied cathedral interior, hands dropping to their katanas with silent intent.They weren’t the only individuals who were suspicious of the appearance of the five shadowy beings who were now stepping from their hiding places. I knew from experience that most people would be staring at the sheathed weapons and darkened forms, and the strange armour and clothing of spiders’ silk, chitin and leather that they wore, but I was grinning as I stepped towards the figure who had first revealed himself.“It is good to see you again, Malulain. I wasn’t sure whether you would come.”“An oath is an oath, although I do remember you saying that if you asked for our help you wouldn’t drag us into a fight with a pack of daedra.”“It’s more of a horde, but at least there are no necromancers around to my knowledge.” The stares of concern and the tensions building throughout the room were impossible to ignore but there was some relief as I shook hands with the leader of the Bosmer Rangers. Without any sign of unease and ignoring the fluttering of anxiety of being the centre of attention to so many people I nodded in the direction of Xemseus, gesturing to the woodelf at my side as he removed his mask and hood and revealed his tattooed features to our audience.“General.” I said clearly and loud enough that the entire cathedral could hear me. “It’s my pleasure to introduce father Malulain of the Valenwood Rangers.”If he had been human I would have sworn than Xemseus would have raised an eyebrow at my words but he nodded instead, his annoyance still somewhat visible but now being overwhelmed with his curiosity.“I was not aware that Valenwood was sending us support.”“Then my Rangers have been doing their jobs right.” Malulain said with considerable relish, stepping forward towards the Argonian General. “We have come to repay the oath we swore to Sir Desin, but our bows and our blades are at your service.”Xemseus was not the only being who looked between me and the five Rangers who lowered their heads and covered their mouths in salute. The amusement was slowly building on Xemseus’ face but there was respect there too, as he returned their salute with one of his own.“You seem to get around, Sir Desin.”“I like keeping busy.”Malulain was moving closer to where Martin and the Blades were currently seated, and while the tensions were mostly gone, there was still an edge to Martin’s bodyguards with the exception of Jauffre who was staring intently at the approaching Ranger.“It is good to see you again, Grandmaster.” Malulain said.“Likewise.” The half-smile was genuine before they both saluted each other, surprising me by both covering their mouths in the style of the Rangers.Turning his attentions back to the commander of the Bruma’s defenders, Malulain was respectful and dignified as I began slowly moving back to the group. “General. My brothers and sisters have come as part of our oath to Sir Desin, but I formally pledge our bows to your service.”“We are grateful for your assistance, but maybe next time you won’t have to do so with so much… theatre?”“Some traditions need to be maintained.” The Ranger replied with some amusement.“What is your strength?”“Two hundred and forty Rangers, and thirty-two Ranger Druids. Those present with me here represent my immediate subordinates as the rest of our force is currently scattered between the city and daedric host.”“Just how did you manage to reach the city? How long have you been here?” Legate Darius spluttered, still somewhat overcome with the strange appearance and overwhelming stealth of the Rangers.“We arrived in the county just over four days ago, and myself and my companions reached the city yesterday. And to answer your question as to how; very, very carefully.” “Malulain was moving now, his heavily tattooed features looking about and studying the assembled commanders with an assassin’s intensity but there was no sign of any threat in his mannerisms. He was graceful, poised and entirely silent except for the sound of his voice. “General, I believe that my Rangers will be able to assist your forces quite considerably in this battle.”With a nod and a gesture to continue from Xemseus, Malulain stepped onto the map, moving over towards the small collection of blue markers and gesturing to the forest to the south of the position with a leather boot. “We are not suitable for stand up confrontations, and until your forces are in position we will act as a screen and ensure that none of the enemy scouts live to determine your intentions. Once battle is joined we can offer some more direct assistance. We will hold your right flank.”“My apologies, but I cannot see how a force of your size will be able to hold off any sizable advance by the daedra.”“Truth be told, we will not be able to hold them for very long. Several hours at the most but if my understanding of your plans is correct you won’t need us to hold them off any more than that.” The Ranger grinned fiercely. “Our numbers are few but within the forests we are unmatched. We will bleed the daedra, confound and kill, and with the support of Wylweneth and her druid circle we will call upon the Green to assist.”My own glance at the familiar appearance of the Ranger Druid, standing in her silks, leathers and still-living vines coiling around her limbs I felt a chill go up my spine. The memories of that night in County Anvil against the fallen Bosmer was still fresh in my mind, and I could remember all too well of how the Rangers had called upon the strength of the forest to claim Graithlan’s relics. His words may not have meant much to most within the cathedral, but I knew all too well what the daedra would be faced with in the darkness of the forests. Remembering the sight of the Spriggans and the matron taking the relics into the depths of the wild made me almost feel sorry for any of the daedra that attempted a flanking manoeuvre through that area.“Sir Desin?”Xemseus’ question didn’t need to be voiced out loud for me to understand what he meant. Nodding simply to him and gesturing towards Malulain I gave my best approximation of a confident smile. “The Rangers have considerable capabilities, as their demonstration here have shown but they have a way with magicka that I have never seen before. They have my confidence.”Receiving a nod of support from Malulain, I watched Xemseus look over the battlemap, staring at the dispositions of his forces for several long drawn out seconds.“Very well. Your Rangers will hold the right flank, but you will be supported by the Militia Cohorts and three cohorts of Extraordinarii.”“Thank you General.” Malulain said smoothly, covering his mouth in salute and bowing his head slightly.“As long as there are no more surprises or others seeking to join this battle…” The pregnant pause was more than enough for everyone to see the humour infesting Xemseus’ features as he made a theatrical glance around the entirety of the Cathedral. “The time has come to discuss our enemy.”Once more he deferred the position to individuals experienced and knowledgeable in the subjects at hand, and it was not surprising when I saw a familiar-looking older man rise to his feet, moving confidently in the centre of the war council. The last time I had seen the Arch-Mage of the Arcane University was when I was leaping headfirst into the portal to Camoran’s Paradise, and of all of the people in the room he was by far the most knowledgeable of what we truly faced.Energy; raw and yet controlled seeped into the very air around him, proving tantalising hints of the magical powers he could wield and it was this skill that provided him with an overwhelming confidence in front of so many.“The daedric host ravaging our lands is the largest concentration of such creatures since the Dawn Era and is easily the largest army to have ever existed within Tamriel’s history. Most may appear humanoid and may even appear similar to you and I in mannerisms and actions but they are certainly not of our world.”The pulsating energies throbbed as he directed them into himself, gesturing and channelling the magicka into spells that sucked the warmth out of the air. For many in the crowd they shied away from the wizard but there was a different reaction as ghost-like figures appeared in a row at Hannibal Traven’s back.There was a dozen of the spectral images, ghostly humanoid and daedric beings standing as still as statues with no traces of life present at all. While incorporeal and intangible there was immense detail in each, appearing as perfect copies of the creatures they represented and I could feel my hackles raising at the memories of fighting them.“Like all Daedric Princes and their Infernal Realms, Mehrunes Dagon and his Badlands is home to several species and breeds of daedra. Some are little more than animals, trained or forced into battle, but a majority of his army are made up of the Dremora Clans.”Pacing up and down the line of illusionary creatures, the Arch-Mage gestured to each as he described them in turn.“The largest species with the Badlands, the Daedroth is incredibly resilient and incredibly strong for its size. These creatures are difficult to contain, control or direct but they suit the daedra well as siege-beasts. During most attacks on cities within Tamriel, these monsters have been responsible for breaching gates with ease, and their unnatural scales afford them near-invulnerability to cutting and stabbing weaponry.”I could feel the gaze of several members of the war council as they looked over myself and Viconia. Our armours stood out by their unique nature, especially the daedroth scale mail under our breastplates but Hannibal Traven paid it no mind.“Their hides are strong enough to resist projectiles from ballistae, but the force of such blows are crippling, if not fatal. Strikes from blunt weapons; maces, hammers, polearms will cripple and maim but thankfully there appears to be very few of these monsters in the enemy ranks, perhaps two or three dozen at the most.”Stepping away from the giant crocodile with its hunched over torso, Traven moved to the next daedra, one that I also recognised from more recent fighting within Camoran’s Paradise. “While their appearances are unusual and shocking, the Vermai are not to be taken lightly. They are one of the fastest daedra know to the University and are also some of the more ferocious. Their limbs provide them with the ability to run as fast as most horses, and have more than enough strength to wrestle them to the ground but unlike the daedroth they are nowhere near as resilient. These creatures are used in a similar manner as our cavalry, providing screening forces our outriders to attack vulnerable forces but they are still little more than animals. They will attack en masse with little forethought to self-preservation or strategy and should be easily goaded into traps and ambushes. Our best estimates place the number of these creatures in the low thousands, but are scattered throughout the county and so far have congregated into a force any larger than a hundred or so.”From the spindly-limbed Vermai Traven continued, gesturing to the next two daedra in turn. The frilled and scaled appearance of the Clannfear and the stunted, twisted form of an imp were all too recognisable and it was almost strange seeing such shorter monsters standing in the middle of others that towered over them. Both these creatures barely came up to my chest, which certainly put them at odds with the three metre tall Vermai, the four metre tall Daedroth and the row of remaining daedra.“The Clannfear and Scamp are both lesser daedra within Dagon’s realm, but they are not to be underestimated. Clannfear are faster and more agile than most mortals and their claws and fangs can easily rip through iron armour, and the Scamps are capable of creating and throwing balls of fire up to thirty metres away. Their accuracy may be lacking but these creatures are far more numerous than the others of their ilk. As far as we have been able to determine, the number of Scamps alone is almost equal our total strength, and there are five or six thousand Clannfear. We believe that the enemy will use these creatures as skirmishers and meat shields for the bulk of their force, forcing them to assault us first prior to the real engagement.”All eyes were drawn now to the remaining collection of summoned illusions, seeing the humanoid figures standing in a row of horror. Each were easily the size of most people in the room, but from one side to the other there was a distinct and marked increase in bulk, size and equipment for each.“While Mehrunes Dagon isn’t the only Daedric Lord who commands the Dremora Clans, he is certainly commands the most. They have, and do serve other princes, particular Boethiah and Molag Bal but they are not mindless animals like the majority of daedra that we are familiar with. They are highly intelligent, a match if not more so than most mortals and have developed a complex, caste-based social structure where each member of their society belongs to one caste of another. These castes however are almost exclusively devoted to combat and conquest, either by filling the ranks of Dagon’s armies or by leading them.”From the centre of the summoned illusions, to the side closest to where I stood the Dremora illusions were arrayed from smallest to largest, with the closest being a truly enormous specimen arrayed in full daedric plate armour, horns, spikes and serrations covering every centimetre. Those in the centre however were dressed in robes or the smatterings of armour, showing their human-yet-not physiques and appearances for all to see.“Of the daedric army, over two thirds of them are Churls and Caitiffs.” Traven continued, pointing to the comparatively lightly equipped daedra closest to him. “They are equal in strength, resilience and abilities as most typical humans, can be adept in magicka and fighting in equal measures but are typically what makes up the bulk of Dagon’s forces. They are almost universally equipped with lighter armour, equivalents of leather or maybe even chainmail but unfortunately their weapons are still Daedric in nature. Some of the more powerful or those belonging to higher levels of Dremora society will have considerably powerful weaponry, perhaps even daedric artefacts but unfortunately even the lesser beings will have weapons far beyond our own.”The third Dremora in line was gestured to by the Arch-mage as he made his way along the line. “The Kynval are minor lords, perhaps what we would consider to be minor nobility in the equivalent of knights. For all intents these are the professional rank-and-file of the daedric host, are equipped in sturdy armour, but more dangerously are skilled and stronger than the Churls and Caitiffs. These creatures are what we should consider to be the equal of our legionaries in terms of skills, equipment and capabilities but thankfully their numbers are of a lesser percentage of their total strength.”“As for the others, these creatures are the lords, leaders, rulers and commanders of Dremora society. These are the barons, dukes, kings, centurions and legates of the Dremora but have only gained their positions through their own skills and the ability to fend off rivals. Any Dremora can move between the castes, but to do so they have to defeat their rivals and then secure their position from others who want it. This has bred thousands of years of conflict and change, especially within the lower castes but those higher are not to be underestimated.”“The Kynreeves are their barons or centurions, much fewer in number and leading individual clans of several hundred or more but they in turn hold allegiance to the Kynmarchers and Markynaz’s in turn. Each of these beings are more than capable of besting a dozen or more mortals with ease, and have been gifted with weapons, armour and artefacts beyond anything seen outside the likes of the Arcane University. Thankfully their numbers are low, being only a tiny fraction of their total army but they are no less dangerous as a result.”As Traven stepped past the second last of the Dremora illusions I could feel a strange sensation within my mind, seeing the armoured appearance of the Markynaz burning itself into my soul as I remembered exactly what kind of creature I had first fed upon. Markynaz’s, especially the Markynaz that I had first fought in Kvatch’s Oblivion portal and had drained of blood was almost incomprehensibly powerful and could only have been matched by my blood-maddened vampirism at the time. To know that there were dozens, if not a hundred or more such creatures in the army facing us was almost more terrifying than the fact then the sheer numbers arrayed against us.Traven’s voice fell silent as he stepped in front of the final, colossal creature closest to where I was standing amongst Martin’s party. It was three metres tall, wider and broader than the likes of Falid and even though it was simply a conjured spectral illusion it extruded an aura of fear and terror. “Valkynaz.” The arch-mage breathed, as though merely uttering the creature’s caste would be enough to instil life into the image and summon such a being. “The Valkyn are the epitome of Dremora, the highest caste of their society and utterly unmatched in power with the exception of the Daedric Princes themselves. We do not know exactly how many of these beings exist within the depths of Oblivion but we know all too well how many are within this daedric army; One. Druostocus Qraur’edea Dokulag Zouqriyite Fel’yunes is one of only a handful of Valkyn known to exist, and myself and many other masters of the arcane believe that there may only be a dozen such creatures in total. Druostocus is incomparable to anything that we know, a true Dremora lord and one of Mehrunes Dagon’s personal bodyguards and champions. There has never been a recorded instance where one of the Valkyn have entered our world, which alone shows just how grave a threat that we are facing here. When, and it will be when this daedric commander appears in the battle it will take myself and all magic users present to deal with him.”Such an announcement was more than enough to chill the blood but the expressions of determination were beginning to set on everyone present. The die was truly being cast as the council sat and deliberated the coming battle but it was being tempered by the fact that there was no escaping the coming storm. Through these actions however, the men and women of Bruma were making the decision to stand at the time and place of their own choosing.As the council continued I found myself once again standing by Viconia’s side, trying to feel comfort at the way our hands came together and interlocked our fingers, hidden from all by the press of bodies and our cloaks. We both knew each other well enough to know how the each other was feeling at the moment, as our thoughts roamed and tried not to think of what awaited us in the coming storm of blood and death.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

The city was quiet as the wolf’s dawn filtered over the rooftops, streaming through the early morning mist and making every surface glittering as though clad in thousands of tiny gemstones. Normally such a morning would have been filled with the quiet noises of the tens of thousands waking for a new day, rising to the toiling bells of the Cathedral and chapels but this morning Bruma was silent and foreboding.It was not to say that the city was utterly silent, as the movement of almost twenty thousand soldiers was a thundering rumble that was felt more than heard, but even this was somehow muted. The normal barking orders were given in softer tones, words were hushed and directions given as though the raising of voices would break the spell holding the city tight. From every street corner, window and alley hundreds of sets of eyes were watching and there was no doubting the sense of unease that permeated every brick and stone.The Legions had been the first to leave, rising far before the approach of dawn and making their silent, disciplined march through the city gates and into the east. Only the sounds of armoured boots on cobblestones and the clanking of metal announced their departure as they moved to secure the battle positions as dawn rose, threading and snaking their way into the city outskirts in a column ten metres wide and three kilometres long. They were to be the first into position along with almost half their number in labourers to help complete the fortifications and defences now that stealth and deception had played their part in the coming battle.Viconia, myself, and the rest of the Blades, along with the other professional forces such as the Orchish and other assorted mercenaries were next to leave, along with the veterans of the Brumian Cohort. We too followed the Legions along the streets lined with the city’s populace as they watched in an unsettling silence, feeling as though we were already being mourned as we exited the city and made our way east.With the thousands of militia and other soldiers, and the baggage and supply train behind our formation we marched in a deadened silence, the only noise was the steady breathing of the Blades around me, the tramping of armoured boots and the sounds of oiled metal sliding on leather. The smell of fear and anticipation was almost intoxicating to my senses but it would have been impossible to determine that of the men and women around me to my own at the thoughts of what was to come.For two hours we marched, moving steadily towards the east and the sun rising over the Jerals and feeling the autumn heat beginning to grow and the dust caking our armour, clothes and throats but it wasn’t long until we crested a hill and found ourselves gazing upon the site of the future battle. Immediately I was struck with the impression of a kwama swarm that my cohort had encountered several years before as they were establishing a new colony. There had been hundreds of the insectoid creatures moving in a chaotic, yet efficient fashion as they dug into the rock and soil and it appeared the legions were inadvertently mimicking the creatures. It was utter chaos, but upon closer study it was an organised, and minutely planned swarm of activity enacting a very specific plan.Six thousand legionaries, for the moment stripped of their armour laboured under the morning sun with a thousand or more general labourers as they put their years of building and maintaining the empire to use. Decades of experience and centuries of learned techniques and processes enabled the legions to march all day and build a fortification in the evening was being put into practice before our very eyes. Palisades were being erected, trenches dug, caltrops placed, range markers measured and constructed, and stakes hammered into the ground in concentric bands in front of the main position. Bags of soil and rock from the trenches were being carted up the slight slope by chains of civilian labourers and volunteers and used to shape the very gap between the ridgelines. Slowly the gentle slope was being broken by a sudden, and obvious raised section that would force the daedra to scrabble up the last three metres and fight uphill against the legions.Not a single detail that I could think of had been forgotten or not taken into consideration. Piles of stones painted white from our side allowed the engineers and foresters to determine ranges and even as we arrived I could see the thousands of archers, and the hundreds of siege engineers making their own preparations. Bundles of arrows and crossbow bolts were being carried by dozens of soldiers and labourers, carts and wagons containing the larger bolts for the ballistae and scorpions, and stones and incendiary pots for the catapults and trebuchets were being moved into position as engineers began calculating the best angles and directions for their devices to face. Even something as seemingly simple as having wagons of ammunition close to their respective engines had been carefully managed, with certain types of ammunition chosen in a specific order to ensure that during the heat of battle the correct types could be loaded and fired for maximum effect. Even the wagons themselves were arranged in such a way that once emptied they could be moved further to the rear without hindering or blocking the movement of others.Unfortunately for most of the Blades and other, non-legion forces there was little for us to do in the preparation of the battleground. The Legionaries and the Foresters knew their roles and were trained and experienced for this style of warfare, and beyond the two or three thousand labourers any efforts from the Blades, militia or mercenaries would have been more of a hindrance than assistance. So there was little for us to do but move into the position delegated by a stern looking Tribune on the back of his thoroughbred and watch as the area was prepared and shaped as though by an artist shaping clay.“Everything that I have ever said about the Drow being masters of war, I rescind entirely.”My proximity to Viconia and my vampiric hearing was the only real reasons why I was able to hear her over the sounds of construction, orders being shouted and thousands of marching feet rolling into a constant barrage of noise. “Tamriel hasn’t seen the likes of this in a long time.”We weren’t the only ones standing in awe of the meticulously planned ballet of military organising occurring all around us, as every Blade in our sizeable formation wore similar expressions of unease, awe or confusion. Many of those that I had gotten to know in our times together at Cloud Ruler were standing nearby Viconia and myself; Belisarius, Jena, Steffan, Cyrus and others were dressed in their full, Akaviri plate armour as was Jauffre, Baurus and the other selected bodyguards of Martin. Every single one of our number were entirely and utterly prepared for war, but the scale of such a situation was not lost on any of us.Only Martin and Jauffre appeared unperturbed at everything around us, standing to the side of our formation closest to where General Xemseus and his command retinue stood. They we standing on top of the highest point of the rolling hill above the defensive line, and I couldn’t help but imagine the conductor at the head of his orchestra that Viconia and I had attended so long ago in the imperial city. Xemseus gave off the impression of one directing the flow and movements of tens of thousands despite being arrayed in the best steel plate available, wearing a cloak of imperial purple and a plumed helm softly waving in the breeze. It was a sobering sight that gave me a chill that had nothing to do with fear, seeing an Imperial General standing alongside Martin wearing the armour of Tiber Septim and being flanked by a trio of heavily armoured Blades dressed as the Akaviri of old. For better or worse, this was history in the making on a scale that all of Viconia’s and my achievements paled in comparison.“Three sets of trenches, several banks of spikes and caltrops, a wooden palisade and puddles of pitch. It almost feels like overkill if not for our foe.”I nodded, drawing my eyes away from Xemseus, Martin, and their attendants standing only a few metres away and met Belisarius’ stern expression. “Against anyone or anything else, this would be a position that could only be taken by flanking.”“Which the daedra could still do.” Added another blade nearby.“But not easily. No matter how inhuman they are, climbing the cliffs to the north will be impossible in large numbers, and it will take them a long time to get through the forests to the south.”Belisarius snorted a bit at my comment, and I could see how his grin was growing despite the tension infusing all of us. “Making friends with the Valenwood Rangers should surprise me Kaius, but there isn’t much about you that surprises me anymore.”There was more than one laugh from the nearest Blades, even as our attentions were dragged away by the chanting cheer from behind as yet another siege engine was finished being built and successfully tested.“How long do you think it will be?”Several shrugs answered the question from another of the Blades but we all knew what she meant. While the sights of the defensive position being prepared were fascinating, hundreds of eyes were constantly gazing off to the east, seeking any signs of the daedra. The visibility of the area was perfect for the coming battle, with more than three kilometres of open, rolling terrain in front of us but the ominous clouds hanging low over the horizon was a constant reminder of what lurked just out of sight a dozen kilometres away. Within the first hour after our arrival at the position we had borne witness to the nineteen hundred strong force of Extraordinarii file through the thin gap in the defences and ride in the direction of the black clouds above the unseen Oblivion Gates. None of us were under any illusions as to their chances, but it was somehow comforting knowing that the daedra were unaware of our actions to such an extent that the Extraordinarii were needed to provoke them. The fear of being attacked before we were ready was a fear shared by us all, but the deployment of the Extraordinarii beyond mere outriders was strangely comforting in its own way.“Even if the daedra ran, and even with their speed it will be an hour or so at the minimum for them to reach us in force.”“And then we fight.”“And then we fight.” I agreed, crushing down the lump in my throat that had risen from uttering such a seemingly simple statement. “At least we will be as ready as we can be by the time they get here.”It was impossible not to marvel at the preparations as they began to finalise. The three rows of trenches and the several rows of defences and traps were completed, the range markers finished and almost all of the five dozen various siege engines were set up and prepared. With the essentials completed and in an effort to keep the soldiers busy and minds occupied away from the thoughts of death, additional preparations were undertaken. Tents were erected in locations for use by the various healers and restoration mages, enormous piles of waterskins and jugs of wine, water and other liquids to quench the thirst of warriors were placed strategically throughout the position. Carts and wagons of spare shields, swords, axes, hammers and other weapons were also moved closer to the Legions defensive position, along with other collections of replacement helms and breastplates to allow the legionaries to replenish their supplies and equipment as their rotated through the ranks during the battle.Every minute detail was taken into consideration, such as the use of the trench nearest to the position as a latrine. Against any other foe, the idea of climbing into and through a three-metre-deep trench containing the excrement and bodily wastes of almost twenty thousand would have given pause to all but the most disciplined of warriors. Against the daedra it might have little effect beyond making their advance that slightest bit more difficult but against a force of hundreds of thousands from Oblivion, even the tiniest advantage could be worth it.Despite the noise, orders and cursing of those labouring and preparing there was very little conversation, even amongst ourselves. There would be long periods of silence where we were all left to contemplate our immediate future or our pasts that had lead us to this moment. I instead found myself standing as close as I could to Viconia, feeling comfort in her presence even as the labouring was completed and the pre-battle preparations began. For everyone, there was little change as our underclothing became damp from sweating in the morning heat or the nervousness of impending battle but this nervousness and anxiety only increased as the labourers retired to the rear of our positon and the Legions began attiring themselves for conflict.For most of us the handful of riders that had returned as individuals or pairs from over the rolling hills between us and the low hanging clouds above the portals had brought with them a sense of impending doom. While Extraordinarii, these riders were not returning in retreat or defeat but were messengers from the formations moving out beyond our sight. Each of them would make their way through the thin gap left in the rows of defences, filing up the short artificial slope and through the preparing ranks of legionaries before reporting directly to their General. Every single one of them would arrive as fast as their steeds allowed them to, each horse panting and flecked with foam from the ride and as time ground on more and more were returning streaked in blood.“They are coming.”Three simple words, and yet the weight they carried was greater than the mountain ranges that framed our horizons and they swept through the ranks like a wildfire. Now the gazes directed to the black, foreboding clouds were growing more and more nervous, staring almost unblinkingly to be the first to see the daedric army that we had come to fight. What wasn’t lost to me was the number of people who were now looking north, the expressions of fear growing stronger as they also sought out signs of the great host of the crusade coming to our aid.With little left to do in terms of preparing, many of the higher ranked members of Xemseus’ retinue began to make tours of their forces, and it didn’t really surprise me when Martin and Jauffre began making their way through the Blades, just as the Tribunes, and militia and mercenary commanders did with their own.There was no longer any real sign of the young priest who had survived the fires of Kvatch in the man who stood before Viconia and I. He seemed taller, more confident and no outward signs of the troubles that had pressed down hard on him during the previous months. Dressed in the armour of his ancestor that had ascended to godhood I had almost expected him to appear diminished or reduced in comparison, and yet Martin moved with all the surety of a veteran, filling the armour of Tiber Septim with the force of a personality that had finally been given a challenge to rise to.Something of my expression must’ve appeared on my face as he and Jauffre approached, the small collection of his chosen bodyguards in tow. Even though he was doing his best to keep his face impassive there was no mistaking the curl of amusement in his expression as he moved over to Viconia and I.“Is there something in my hair or something Kaius?”My own nervousness for the moment was forgotten as I returned his smile with a shake of the head. “No. Not at the moment at least. Just how long will it be before you end up wearing a crown though?”The look of amused fear and partial disgust was as amusing as it was fake and more than just himself laughed from the collection of Blades around us. “I suppose if I am to be Emperor, then it’s time that I started acting like one. Perhaps one of us happens to be carrying the Red Dragon Crown on their person?”His theatrical glance around himself and making as though he was patting his pockets sent a ripple of nervous laughter through all that witnessed it, but there was no mistaking just how on edge we all were. Despite the experience, ability and combat skill of the three hundred or so Blades and the thousands of other soldiers around us there were no illusions of what was coming.Martin was by far too canny not to notice how everyone was feeling, and despite how I knew that he was feeling just as nervous, if not more so than the rest of us there was not the slightest trace of it about him. Not even to my enhanced senses. “Remember when we first met at Kvatch?” he said, addressing Viconia and I directly despite the dozens of Blades standing around within earshot. “I told you both that I didn’t want any part of the gods’ plan. Right here and now I still don’t know if there is a divine plan but I’ve come to realise that it doesn’t matter.”“What does matter then?” Viconia asked simply, looking at him with her own expression neutral and concealing the emotions that I knew all too well that she was feeling.Despite his life as a priest, Martin’s natural oratory skill was impossible not to notice and his words and tone flowed over us all as he spoke not only to Viconia and I, but also to all of the assembled Blades. His gaze was soft and expression serene as he shared a simple, brief glance between all those present. “What matters is that we act.” He said, somehow softly enough but loud enough that all of us nearby could hear him. “That we do what’s right when confronted with evil. That’s what you both did at Kvatch.”For a moment, a moment so brief he paused as there was a flicker of deeper emotion on his face as he locked his gaze with Viconia and I. “It wasn’t the gods that saved us then; it was the both of you. Were you acting for the gods? I don’t know, but now it’s my turn to act.”“You have chosen an interesting time and place to act.” I said with some amusement, and while this may have been somewhat disrespectful or insubordinate from anyone else, our shared histories, the closeness between myself, Viconia and Martin and my strange position within the Blades ensured that it wasn’t interpreted as such.The nervous chuckles from the Blades, and even Jauffre was not lost on either Martin or myself and his smile grew larger. “Better late than never I suppose.”“Grandmaster.” It was Baurus who spoke over the amusement of the group, one of the only individuals who had shown as much emotion as a Dwemer Animunculi during the whole exchange. “The cavalry are returning.”The silence that had fallen over the entire defensive position and the thousands occupying it was as sudden as it was deafening. All movement beyond the slight jostling and shifting to get a better view of what was occurring but there was no mistaking the tension, or the sudden smell of fear that reached my nose at the appearance of the Extraordinarii.Of the nineteen cohorts of the elite cavalry, only a handful were returning and even from a distance the losses were obvious and staggering. Even knowing the sheer numbers that the Extraordinarii had rode out to face, the bloodied and ravaged formations riding back were all too evident. Less than one in five of the riders had survived their provoking assault against the daedric forces, and as the several hundred survivors rode towards and into the tiny gap in defences the ripple of fear through the infantry was more than obvious. Each and every single one of the Extraordinarii returned bearing wounds or were covered in gore. Some returned holding onto the reins of horses bearing empty saddles, others even clinging onto the saddles or sides of their comrade’s horses after their steeds fell in the fighting. None were untouched from the ferocious fighting that they had so obviously encountered over the hills in the vicinity of the gates, but their task was done for now.The gap in the defences was thin, and forced the returning cavalry to be compressed but they quickly, and carefully made their way through the traps and trenches and behind the ranks of Legionaries watching their comrades return. Enormous fascines of branches had been strategically placed to allow the horses to carefully cross the four-metre-wide trenches, but the other preparations required carefully handling of the cavalry’s steeds to make their way though. There was however no sign of pursuit, no daedra or their bestial minions following in the cavalry’s wake but there was no doubt in anyone’s minds that they would not be far behind.Legionaries checked and triple checked their equipment, fiddling with straps and buckles and pulling their shields tighter to their forearms. Others silently or not so silently prayed, speaking to the gods, ancestors or loved ones, calling upon support or expressing their love in equal measures as the last of the surviving Extraordinarii filtered through the bands of traps and defences and the gaps closed by handfuls of legionaries.I didn’t need to see one of the surviving tribunes riding over to Xemseus and his retinue, covered in blood and gore or hear his report to know that their actions had been successful and devastating at the same time. The grim set expressions of the cavalry, and that of Xemseus and the other commanders spoke more than their words ever could. The daedra had been provoked, the Extraordinarii decimated and there was no stopping what was to come.Two whole Legions was one of the largest collections of military might by the Empire in decades, if not centuries but out of their total combined strength of ten thousand, less than six thousand were the heavily armoured Legionaries. It was these men and mer that now stood in ranks in the thin gap between the two ridgelines, with a four metre cliff holding their left flank, and a six-metre-tall quarry caved into the side of the ridge to the right. Six thousand elite soldiers were pressed into a space approximately five hundred metres wide, standing shoulder to shoulder in a formation ten ranks deep.Two bands of foresters stood behind them in slightly curved ranks, three ranks deep but spread out more than the heavy infantry. The archer elite of the Empire were arrayed in their own heavy plate, bows strung and ready and a four-meter gap between each rank filled with a forest of arrows planted in the soft soil. Each rank of Foresters contained just over three hundred of my once-fellow archers, and were just over a three hundred metres across as they stood on the upward slope that allowed them to see, and eventually loose their arrows over the heads of their comrades if required.The two groups of foresters were separated by a trio of smaller groups on top of the central hill behind the main position. It was here that Xemseus and his retinue stood in momentary silence, with the Blades directly to their right flank and the 1st Brumian Cohort with its aged veterans formed up to their left. Behind us all were the neat rows of the largest siege engines; the handful of trebuchets and catapults and the largest of ballistae ready and filled with tension. Only the smaller scorpions and ballistae were scattered throughout the formation, their angles mathematically calculated and prepared with a professional’s skill in amongst the rest of Bruma’s defenders.Each flank, standing close to the steep cliffs or close to the sides of the Legion’s formations stood the hundreds of volunteers and mercenaries, interspaced with the smaller siege engines and armed with an array of arms and armour. While the nervousness of the defenders was obvious to all, it was from these groups occupying the flanks that I truly could smell the growing fear and terror that was now permeating the air around us.Only in Tamriel’s greatest conflicts had a force of our size had even been brought to bear against an adversary but the darkening of the land to the east dwarfed ours in its incomprehensibility.At first I thought the sensation through my bowels was just the trepidation of coming battle, but as the last of the Extraordinarii took their horses behind the silent rows of siege engines for fodder and water I slowly realised that it wasn’t the urge to shit I was feeling. While most of the defenders had been putting the latrine trench to use, myself and the other Blades had to resist such temptations to give in to our weakening bowels. It wouldn’t help the morale of the defenders, especially the militia to see the Hero of Kvatch voiding himself due to pre battle anxiety but with a sicking realisation I understood what I was actually feel. The vampire within me was growling but somehow felt muted, especially compared to the low rumble in the ground that for the moment only I could feel.Slowly, through the mid-morning haze a thin strip of darkness separated from the backdrop of shadows and ominous clouds and began to slide over the distance hills like spilled ink. It was slow at first, indistinguishable from the rest of the terrain due to distance but as the minutes slowly passed it was no longer just myself that could feel the trembling of the ground beneath our feet.To be told that we were facing hundreds of thousands was something that no one was truly able to understand, let alone comprehend. Such numbers, on a scale never seen before in Tamriel’s history was simply impossible for a mortal mind to fathom or even picture. Even standing amongst almost twenty thousand soldiers and several thousand labourers, healers, and specialists it was difficult to comprehend our numbers even when able to see them with our own eyes. To suddenly find ourselves witness to a truly gargantuan army from the depths of Oblivion was a whole new level of impossibility.Tens of thousands of daedra were moving in a mass several kilometres wide, a disparate horde moving almost without purpose and following the furrows of hoof prints from the retreated Extraordinarii. There was no real formation to it all, appearing as though splattering, expanding ink in parchment that was slowly consuming all in its path. Smaller collections of trees and thickets of scrub was crushed under the press, farmland destroyed just from the numbers that were advancing towards us as the seemingly unstoppable tide of flesh and daedric metal moved ever closer.What were once solid, seemingly impenetrable rows of fortifications and the greatest infantry in the world were suddenly rendered tiny and insignificant. The ten ranks of Legionaries were now a thin, tiny strip of metal and meat to a force easily a hundred and fifty times as deep and half a dozen times as wide and there were more than just militia that were taking nervous, unconscious shuffling steps backwards.“The Hist protect us.” I heard Xemseus mutter under his breath with my enhanced hearing but a quick glance at the Argonian General revealed no trace of the shared fears he had with us all. Unlike the general however most of those around us were not as composed, or were able to hold their emotions in check at the sight of Mehrunes Dagon’s army.Many dropped to their knees or otherwise began praying in whatever customs their homelands or cultures had. Some simply stood rooted to the ground, jaws hanging open in shock as they tried, and failed to comprehend the gigantic army moving towards us. I, like many of the Blades were in the right position to see dozens of legionnaires and foresters inexplicitly kneel down at random, picking up small pieces of dirt and soil and placing them in their mouths to chew. Such a strange action shared by so many of the professional soldiers filled many of the other Blades with confusion, but for me it left my blood running cold as I resisted the urge to do the same. It was something akin to a tradition in the Legions for those expecting to die in battle to consume the soil of the battlefield, before the soil would consume their fallen bodies in turn.The sensation I originally felt in my guts had not originally been fear, but the trembling of the ground from the seemingly simple movement of literal thousands of tonnes of daedric flesh across the land. They were moving at a steady pace, almost lazily strolling in gigantic disorganised blocks with no real strategy that I could discern but the sheer numbers were impossible not to see as a flood that our tiny dam could not stop.I was not the only one thinking of defeat and death and praetors, centurions, militia captains and other individuals of authority surged forward to stabilise the morale and discipline of their charges. It was a difficult task, one made almost impossible by the steadily encroaching horde that was now less than eight kilometres away. Fearful mutterings and even outright dissent could be half heard over the growing thunder of hundreds of daedra advancing on our position. The fear was also impossible not to notice, even for those without senses as keen as mine and dozens of militia and legionaries could be seen scurrying under the watchful eyes of their commanders to relieve themselves yet again in the latrine trench.Of us all, there was only a single person who seemed utterly serene and unconcerned at the sight of hundreds of thousands of daedra advancing over the gentle slopes of the land to the east, and without even a tremor of fear I saw Martin smile, nod to Jauffre and move in front of Xemseus and his retinue.There were dozens, if not more wagons and carts scattered throughout the position containing supplies and spare equipment for the coming battle and without even the slightest hesitation Martin pulled himself up onto the driver’s seat, standing upon the wooden boards and raising himself to a position that could be seen by every man and mer present.“Soldiers of Tamriel!” He called, his voice echoing out across the position and I could feel the strange tingle of magicka in his words. Unseen by most I could see the way his right hand was twisting almost of its own accord as he used a measure of his magical ability to allow his words to carry across the building thunder. He was standing bare headed, wearing the armour of Tiber Septim that somehow seemed to shine greater than the simple steel it was forged of but it paled in comparison to the fist sized gemstone hanging from his neck. The breeze was curling through his hair, but beyond that tiny movement and that of his hand infusing his voice with magicaka there was no sign of any nervousness or discomfort.“Soldiers of Tamriel!” He called again, gathering more and more attention as the assembled ranks turned as the magicka infused words reached their ears. Mercenaries, militia, legionaries and labourers were turning now, slung and sheathed weapons hanging over their spines or by their sides, shields clasped tightly to their arms and many were removing their helmets or clawing back their chainmail coifs to get a better look. There was a shuffling, staggering movement as the defenders turned away from the approaching daedra to look at the armoured figure standing on top of the wagon.Seemingly confident that he had the attention of all of those present, Martin gestured to the ranks before him with a sweep of his arm, faintly smiling at the sight of almost twenty thousand men and women looking at him.“Soldiers of Tamriel,” He said for the last time, somewhat quieter but the magicka allowed his words to carry to every single being present as he paused briefly as though the emotion in such words caught his breath. “Tamriel will stand or fall by what we do here today! Never again will your actions carry such consequence as they will now. We stand not for Bruma, but for all of Tamriel!”The statement echoed across the mass of armoured figures and there was a mild shaking of heads and a few utterances, but nothing more, yet there was no sign of nervousness from Martin at all.“Will we let them burn our homes?” His words again echoed, but this time there was a firmer response, a call somewhat surprisingly louder from the militia as they found voices of their own.“No!”“Will we let them kill our families?”“No!” There was a growl of emotion now, a building sensation of defiance as Martin slowly began to tease it out with his words.“Will we let the daedra do to Bruma what they did to Kvatch? To Ald’ruhn and to countless other cities?”This time the shout was visceral and loud, drowning out the advancing march of the Daedra and shaking the very air around us all as Legionaries and volunteers alike responded with determination. Even for a single, shouted ‘No!’ there was so much raw emotion that erupted from the assembled ranks and Martin grinned fiercely at them all“Soldiers of Tamriel, we make our stand here, today, for the whole of Tamriel, for every man, woman and child living and yet to be born! We will hold them here, now and show them that the courage of mortals will never be cowed! We will show their infernal master that to face us is to face defeat!”Where before his gestures were directed to the assembled defenders, a hand now mockingly directed their gaze to the ever encroaching daedric army but Martin’s expression was almost triumphant. “The creatures before you have been forged in the harshest realm of Oblivion, yet they do not have your strength. Their god is a bloody avatar of battle and chaos, yet they do not have our faith! They live for war! For destruction! To burn everything that you hold dear! They live and exist for themselves, and as such they are weak! They do not understand what it is to fight for another, to fight for others!”Pausing momentarily, Martin took a few careful seconds to gaze across the thousands arrayed around him and I could see that he had everyone’s utmost attention. Those few seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as he purposely looked across everyone, making it appear to everyone that he was looking at them and them alone.“Look around you!” He continued, his voice softening and almost appearing conversational while allowing his magicka to project his words to the ears of all present. “Look at the face of the soldier beside you. They may be from a land far distant to your home. They may be a neighbour and a friend. They may be of a different race or speak a different tongue. It matters not! Today… Today you stand as one! They will stand beside you, and as you will fight and die for them, they will fight and die for you!”Under different circumstances the way that a majority of the soldiers turned and looked about themselves and their comrades would have been somewhat ludicrous but the expressions of determination were building steadily, and the sense of fear was measurably diminished. There was even a tramping, metallic sound as the Legionaries began stamping their feet in unison while remaining in otherwise disciplined silence.“I am Martin Septim, and I stand here with you all!” There was no mistaking the expression of grim determination on Martin’s face as his voice rose in volume. In a single, fluid motion he drew his own sword, raising it into the air for all to see in the almost midday sun where its razor edge glinted brightly. “Soldiers of Tamriel, do you stand with me!”The roar of twenty thousand throats was deafening and loud, ratting through our armour and shaking the ground from the force. It was a roar that was almost felt deep within the belly more than heard but it was one that everyone, even myself took part in. For most it was a wordless cry of defiance, a guttural shout that swept away their fears and gave voice to their emotions that had been brewing for the days leading to this moment. For others, especially the Legion it was more focussed, more precise and it didn’t take long for ten thousand throats to begin the uniform chanting of ‘Dovah Invicta’ as Martin clambered down from the wagon. A brief moment seemed to pass us as he glanced over the assembled Blades and specifically made eye contact with myself, sharing a nod that revealed some of the tension that lay hidden under the surface before he turned and moved closer to the General’s retinue.With some measure of discipline instilled and the flagging morale of the defenders lifted for the moment the change was noticeable. No longer was there a nervous shuffling amongst the ranks, and fearful expressions being cast rearward in an attempt to seek an escape to safety. Instead there was now discussion and talk, as friends, comrades, neighbours and fellow soldiers spoke to those nearest to each other. A lot of the talking that I could discern with my enhanced hearing that was morbidly dark and was typical for those who found themselves in such a situation. Farewells were being made, bloody gambles and boasts for the battle to come and peace made with ancestors, friends and enemies alike being had. More and more were continuing to pray to their ancestors and gods alike, but soon there was nothing to be heard but the advancing daedra, especially as they crossed over the three kilometre markers.They were close enough now to see the differences in the types and formations of daedra, from the lumbering crocodilian forms of Daedroth, to the serrated ranks of the more professional Dremora bunched in the centre. Clannfear, scamps and Vermai were leading the advance, their more bestial natures driving them forward and acting almost as skirmishing screen to the blobs of Dremora that made up the main force of the daedric army. More concerning was the actions of Dremora as they advanced, as more and more of them began forming into obvious formations that mirrored the disciplined nature of the Legions blocking the tiny pass, forming their own brutish cohorts and casta equivalents until their ranks covered an area easily two kilometres across, and several hundred metres deep.The clashing of shields and weapons and the tramping of armoured feet crushing the ground into a dusty ruin was now impossible to ignore but as they drew ever closer there was no mistaking the obvious chanting rising from the horde. In guttural, booming voices the thousands of Dremora were chanting the name of their infernal lord into the sky in a rolling storm of noise that only grew louder with every step.More and more of Bruma’s defenders were gritting their teeth and steeling themselves for what was coming, feeling the chanting shaking into the marrow of their bones as the constant “Meh-runes Da-gon! Meh-runes Da-gon!” continued unabated and threatened their very courage. Somehow, ludicrously there was laughter and taunting being directed at the approaching army, and I found myself laughing along at the sight of more than one group of militia and mercenaries standing on top of the steep cliffs, turning and presenting their rears to the daedra with their pants down. For others the rebellious defiance in the face of such an overwhelming force was blunt and to the point, especially from the orchish mercenaries who took up a guttural chant of their own, smashing their weapons and shields together in time to their cry of “Mal-a-cath! Mal-a-cath!” as they invoked the name of their own daedric prince.“Archers ready.” I heard called out over the increasing chanting and roars, a call that was echoed from the hundreds of foresters as the shuffling movement signified their preparations. Almost as a single entity every legion archer and militia equipped with a bow or crossbow grasped at their weapons and drew ammunition.The daedra were less than a kilometre away, now entering the extreme range of the largest of siege engines but for the moment they remained silent and unmoving but the grim expressions of the engineers as the checked their beloved machines of war for the hundredth time. There were no longer any taunting calls from the defenders, nor the showing of bare buttocks and other insults directed at the daedra now, as grim expressions were concealed under helms of iron and steel.The numbers were truly impossible to comprehend but I could see with a grim tightening of the stomach that most of the daedra were not rushing forward in blind bloodlust. Most had formed ordered, disciplined ranks but the more animalistic daedra were now being goaded forward in a frenzy. In a swarm of thousands, easily outnumbering all of the defenders by themselves a tide of Clannfear and scamps were suddenly surging towards us as fast as their legs could carry them.“Shar protect us.” Viconia softly muttered by my side, a hand briefly grasping my arm for a moment before pulling away once more.Praefects and tribunes were staring, not at the onrushing daedra but towards Xemseus and his retinue where the Argonian General was standing with an arm raised high. A thick wooden baton, lovingly carved and studded with metal was his official sign of his position and authority and he held it up for all to see with his face impassive and calm. It was this baton that his various subordinates were staring at, while those under their command stared at them with grim anticipation, waiting for the order they knew was coming.Dozens of siege engineers could be heard moving and arming their engines, their shouted confirmations of readiness almost being drowned out by the advancing daedra and the sudden echoing shouts of ‘Draw!’Thousands of bowstrings suddenly began humming in unison as their wielders drew back hard and raised them to the sky. The sound itself was audible, even over the guttural, hate-filled chants of the daedric host. It was the sounds of creaking wood, taut bowstrings and the grunting of five thousand archers as they used their considerable strength to haul back on their bows.The baton in Xemseus’ hand dropped, chopping through the air in a single, definitive motion and all along the line the signal was witnessed by dozens who roared ‘loose’ into the sky. A pause of utter silence, a snap of thousands of hemp cords and a sigh of air over feathers washed over us and in that moment, the sky darkened with a steel-tipped hail.An opening volley, the opening volley was on its way and the Battle of Bruma had begun.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

I was only five years old when my father gave me my first bow. It was a tiny, pathetic thing and little more than a bent branch with some twine but it was my first, and the first of many. To be an archer, whether for war, hunting or sport was not something that anyone could easily become, and only those who trained and learned over their entire lives could become true bowmen. Some, such as a Bosmer were natural archers through a combination of physical and mental prowess but they were far from having a monopoly on skilled bowmen, but nor they or any of the others throughout Tamriel could hope to match the might of a legion forester.They may have been of different cultures and races, but the men and women of the 9th and 14th Legions forester cohorts had all been raised in a similar way to myself. They too had been trained and taught from almost the time they could walk, and that had bred a uniquely powerful breed of soldier. Arms that were as hard as steel drew back and released hundred pound bows as those they were lifting a mug of ale or mead, their muscles would be bunching and twisting in shoulders made lopsided from the decades of practice and a lifestyle almost unmatched through Tamriel. Even in the full plate armour of the Legions they made the effort to draw back on their powerful weapons appear simple, and as a single entity they had released with a fluttering sigh of fletchings moving through the air, and the sharp twang of bowstrings releasing tension.Almost two thousand arrows soared into the sky, twin masses of shadows that rose, blurred and then slowly began to sink to the ground once more as their arcs reached their zeniths. They were a steel tipped hail, sharpened points glinting in the midday sun before dropping with deadly intent into the onrushing daedra.For those handful of seconds of flight, it was almost as though the land itself had paused and every single soldier within Bruma’s army tensed with anticipation. Even the daedra seemed to grow silent in that terrible heartbeat before the arrows struck, despite not stopping their advance in the slightest.Even above the foul chanting, the rumble of tens of thousands of feet and roars of the more bestial of daedra the impact of two thousand arrows could be heard. A soft, wet thudding sound, amplified dozens of times over, a hissing of steel tipped shafts into flesh that lasted for a fraction of a moment before being drowned out in the start of the day’s pain.In a swarm numbering thousands, the daedric army advanced, guiding and directing the lesser of their kind forwards ahead of the formations of Dremora assembling on the march. It was a tide of destruction, one that flattened and pulped the grass and fields as they advanced through pure weight of numbers. So many different varieties could be seen with the naked eye but the very first to have come within range were almost exclusively Clannfear and scamps with a handful of Vermai and Dremora intermingled throughout. These lesser daedra were to be the first to fall in the day’s fighting, and those leading the charge were stopped almost as effectively as running face first into Bruma’s curtain walls.Dozens fell under the initial barrage, some suddenly sprouting a handful of feathered shafts that punched through imp hide, scales and Dremora skin without any resistance, punching them off their feet, tripping them in mid step and sending them crashing into the dusty soil. Others managed to stagger on with minor injuries, miraculously untouched or barely wounded at all but were now forced to dodge or step aside those that had fallen, shifting their path around the writhing, impaled figures or the lifeless corpses that bled into the dirt. In an area fifty metres deep and spanning a semicircle three dozen metres in front of the lead defences the horde of daedra floundered, reasserted itself and made to push on over the fallen only for the second volley to land amongst them.With slow, steady movements the Foresters carefully drew their arrows from the soil in front of them, nocking their bows and pulling them back effortlessly from a lifetime of wielding them. As a single entity each forester moved in time with the others in their cohorts, each of the two thousand taking the carefully measured time to draw, nock, lift, pull and loose their arrows with all the precision of Dwemer Animunculi. This was the true power of the Foresters in a battle, and something that every other military in Tamriel was yet to match.Twenty seconds between each volley, timed and controlled by the Forester Tribunes may have appeared to be an excessive length of time against a horde of daedra but it was this precise timing that was causing the most amount of damage and chaos. In those twenty seconds an enemy had time to partially reform, the survivors to pick themselves back up and those further to the rear of the enemy formation to push forward. This ensured that when each volley landed it was striking a large number of the enemy, but also ensured that each volley was also adding to the number of dead and wounded that cluttered the ground and further fouled the advance. Armies of the provinces had been crushed through this tactic alone, but against Mehrunes Dagon’s it was not going to be enough.By the tenth volley there was a writhing carpet of daedric flesh within the beaten zone but hundreds were still somehow forging through or surviving the hail to reach the outer row of stakes and the first of the trenches. Those behind were suddenly faced with a mass of dead and dying scamps and Clannfear but still they continued on without fear or hesitation. The Clannfear alone outnumbered Bruma’s army by a considerable margin and their animalistic natures were blind to their casualties being driven ahead of the ranks of Dremora like cattle as they were used as meat shields. As for the scamps, their instincts were different and the conniving, cunning little monsters were using the chaos to their advantage. In small groups, no more than a dozen at the most they moved through the volleys, quickly adapting to the volley’s timing to rush forward and reach the forward trenches. Despite their animalistic natures they were very much the skirmishers of the daedric host, and it wasn’t long before the first fireballs were being hurled in our direction.Most splashed harmlessly against the raised shields of the Legionaries, the first two ranks making a shield wall of iron and lacquered wood against the press, while other fireballs soared high into the air and spluttered and died before they could reach the ground. Some were being directed to the flanks, and at the long walls of wicker and thatch that had been formed into makeshift crenulations to protect the militia. Most of these enormous bundles were quickly burning but were just as quickly put out by a handful of mages nearby, directing their various magicka to stifle, redirect or simply control the fires to snuff them out before they could spread. As for the sources of the fireballs that had managed to survive through the forester’s beaten ground and begin forging their paths through the rows of defences, they soon found themselves drawing the attention of the other archers and ranged infantry of Bruma’s defenders.Whether volunteers or conscripts, dozens of militia wielding bows, crossbows or even slings were using the makeshift crenulations as protection as they used their natural skills to hunt on the battlefield. Poachers, hunters, city militia and shepherds could be seen picking their targets out of the mass below their elevated positions, picking off scamps and surviving Clannfear that were breaching the Forester’s volleys with precision. Not trained to fight in formations or as a group, these men and mer were far better suited for this style of warfare, using the skills and abilities used to put food on their family’s tables, make a living, or protect their herds from predators to pick off individual daedra no matter where they tried to move or hide.Hundreds were dying every second, with only a handful of injuries amongst the defenders in the opening minutes but as the volleys continued unabated the daedra continued to push forward. Any mortal army would already have been suffering from fatal indecision and would have begun to slow but before our eyes the daedra seemed to simply redouble their efforts. The howls of pain and torment, broken by the thudding waves of arrow volleys continued to build in volume until those commanding the foresters and other elements of Bruma’s army were resorting to magicka to be heard.All across the advancing horde a strange sight could be seen as the last waves of lesser daedra and the first ranks of the Dremora reached the growing field of corpses and injured creatures. Even despite the utter lack of fear of death and pain, or simple bloodlust and a desire to reach us there was no easy path forward in the advance of such disciplined arrow storms. Bodies were piled in places, blood soaking into the ground and in places the dead and dying were three or four deep and turned the gentle rolling plain into a quagmire of gore and obstacles. No matter the nature of the foe, this was not to be an easy advance and whether they tried or not there was a compression in the lines, as daedra were pushed together on the outer edge of the killing field.As those in front slowed to clamber and pick their way through the carnage, those behind them were in turn pushed forward by their fellows behind and as the hail of arrows continued battering them and adding more bodies to the chaos there was a growing crush. Leading ranks of daedra were being compressed, in places so tightly that those struck by arrows were held up by those pressing in around them and it was this mass that was slowly getting the better of the forester’s volleys. As the skirmishing scamps and rushing Clannfear were either picked off or managed to survive the killing field the true forces of Mehrunes Dagon were engaged and the lighter armed Dremora Churls and Caitiffs were now close enough to start taking casualties.The majority of Dagon’s army were these lesser Dremora, and even from where I stood struggling to take in such an impossible sight I could see that most were poorly equipped and minimally armed. There were helmets, breastplates and shields but most were not equipped with anything more than that. These were quickly proving their worth however as shields of daedric metal were raised overhead, and the compressed numbers were that great that the volleys were soon rendered considerably ineffective. Only where the ranks broke and faltered due to the piles of dead or wounded that were crushed underfoot did the volleys continue to reap a bloody toll on the daedric horde, but the Legions had many more tricks up their sleeves.A haunting note of a horn echoed from within Xemseus’ retinue and from behind the barking of orders somehow reached our ears as the next stage of the battle commenced. The thumping of wood and the whip-crack of bound sinew and ropes releasing their tension were felt more than heard and there was a hissing, roaring noise overhead as the artillery joined the battle.The dozens of siege engines had been waiting patiently, their tension bound forms loaded and waiting for this precise moment. Instead of firing as soon as the enemy was within range, the engineers had held their fire until ordered to by their General to ensure the maximum amount of carnage. They had waited, biding their time as the daedra were forced to bunch together, crushed between the forester’s volleys and the weight of the thousands in the rear ranks continuing to advance before letting their projectiles fly.From the thirty-metre-long arms of the trebuchets, to the enormous crossbow like ballistae and the brutish catapults, the dozens of siege engines launched their ammunition into the daedric host with bloody effect. Bolts from ballistae and scorpions speared a dozen or more daedra at a time, punching lines of corpses into the ranks and joining several together in death. As for the Catapults and the trebuchets, their ammunition was much more esoteric and clay pots containing all amounts of alchemical ingredients rained down where the enemy was concentrated. Some were as simple as pots filled with burning pitch, while others from the Legion stocks were much more potent. Balls of fire exploded into densely packed ranks, spraying sheets of burning pitch in all directions and scything down some with shards of terracotta and pottery, while in other locations gentle wafting clouds of the purest white floated through hordes. The red-black flesh of the uncountable Dremora was suddenly changed in an instant as they were covered in the fine white powder and entire cohort’s worth were left howling and insensible with pain as the quicklime burned their eyes, scoured their throats and left them dying with throats filling with blood.Again, these volleys were timed and precisely measured as it took minutes, sometimes longer to reload the largest of the siege engines but during these delays the daedra continued to advance, crushing and trampling the dead and wounded underfoot as they continued to advance despite the horrific casualties. These gaps only provided enough time for them to reform and for the ranks to press close once more, sometimes leaving the dead standing upright and being dragged forward by the lack of space between individuals. Again and again they were hammered by the combination of archery and siege equipment but shockingly they were gaining ground.Mortal armies would have been broken long before but despite the hundreds, if not thousands of casualties they had sustained the daedra were continuing on. They had pushed through the storm of arrows of the foresters, the leading ranks of Dremora Churls and Caitiffs crushing the dead and dying scamps and Clannfear into a paste underfoot by their sheer weight of numbers and moving through the first row of stakes. Some I could see were killed or maimed as the pressure of the ranks behind them forced some to be impaled on sharpened wood but for the most part they were knocked or battered into the ground, or used to provide a measure of sure footing in the blood and bodies.It was here that I caught my first glimpse of the siege beasts of Dagon, towering over their lesser kin as they advanced within the horde. The daedroth had not been part of the advance forces that had been pushed forward into our lines but had obviously been kept back within the core of the daedric army. Now, in numbers that I had never seen, even at Anvil so many months ago, dozens of these brutish creatures were pushing through the press, crushing any of those unfortunate enough to get in their way and tearing into the defensive works. Their scaled hides were proof against the hail of arrows and even appeared to be capable of withstanding the lighter scorpion bolts being aimed in their direction. More than one I saw continued on even as bolts from scorpions and ballistae smashed into them, momentarily stopping them in their tracks but I knew from experience that while almost impenetrable their hides couldn’t protect their organs from the force of the blows. Repeated impacts from two-metre-long bolts may not have managed to pierce their flesh but they were being killed nonetheless with ruptured organs and shattered bones.I watched with a sick fascination as one such brute succumbed to a pair of ballistae bolts that thundered their way into its chest and belly, driving the air from its lungs and obviously shattering its ribs despite not puncturing its skin in the slightest. It staggered to a halt in amongst the first row of shattered and broken stakes and the piled corpses, surrounded by jostling, roaring Dremora that were attempting to circumvent the yawing trench at their feet before toppling over the edge. A couple of tonnes of daedric flesh vanished from sight into the three-metre-deep ditch but it was not going to be alone in death, as the pressure of the Dremora was building and more and more of their number were being forced ever onwards.Dozens of daedra were being forced into the gap, some attempting to jump down into the bottom, others being knocked by those behind in with no ability to stop themselves. As the numbers grew more and more were being pushed into the trench, there would be limited opportunities to escape for those unlucky enough to be stuck. Easily hundreds of our foes would meet their ends in the trenches, crushed to death under the ever increasing weight of bodies being forced over the edge but against such a foe it was a delaying tactic and nothing more. Normal militaries would be forced to either fill in the trenches through a prolonged siege, either by shovelling dirt and soil back in or constructing fascines or other methods to cross, instead the daedra had the numbers to fill them with their own bodies.By now the ranks had not only reached the first trench but had also advanced on the flanks far enough to reach the base of the cliffs and the quarry. From where I stood I couldn’t directly see what was occurring but I could guess well enough. With the numbers arrayed before us and all of them continuing to advance, those at the base of the cliffs would be crushed into the rock itself, being packed so tightly that even those that died wouldn’t be able to fall and many more would succumb to suffocation. Some would be attempting to scale the sheer slopes, but this would be exceptionally difficult by itself and would be made near impossible by the number of militia and mercenaries waiting for them at the top. I could see these men and mer at their positions along the makeshift crenulations, some leaning over with their bows and crossbows, some with rocks or other crude weapons that were hurled or launched at the daedra below. Several could be seen dragging over pots or buckets filled with steaming pitch to dump over the edge, and more than one throwing a burning torch afterwards to set it alight.The pressure and lack of direction on the flanks was now causing two distinct things to occur, things that were not only anticipated but were intended. With nowhere else to go and the bloodthirsty nature of such creatures driving them on, many changed direction and futilely trying to move towards the centre of our formation. This only served to further exasperate the crush that was continuing to build and force more and more into the killing ground of the foresters and siege engines but there were obvious groups that were shifting further and further away in the direction of our flanks. To the south on our right flank I could see banners from our flanking forces being waved that announced that several cohorts’ worth of daedra were moving towards the forested cliffs in that direction. I knew that many within our army had doubts but I had none regarding the chances of the Daedra forging a path through a forest infested with Bosmer Rangers, at least not in the time we had before the arrival of the Crusade at least.Slowly, and despite the horrific casualties they were sustaining the daedra continued to grind their way through the defences and the onslaught of projectiles. They were paying for their advances with uncountable numbers of their infantry, but they were advancing nonetheless, filling in the second trench with their bodies as they had with the first and crushing the remaining two rows of stakes without slowing. Even with a constant barrage of siege munitions and thousands of archers and militia we were barely making a dent in their numbers and were merely slowing them down. little by little, minute by minute they were chewing their way ever closer to the gleaming ranks of legionaries holding their shieldwall.“Pila!” Roared the order along the line as the daedra reached, and began breaching the third and last excrement filled trench and all along the ranks of legionaries there was a rippling motion. With the exception of the first and second ranks holding the shield wall steady the six thousand grasped the first of their two pilum, drawing back their arms before hurling the deadly projectiles into the seething mass of daedra. The distance now between the two main forces was measured in less than thirty metres now, but the slight elevation of the legionaries allowed their pila to strike hard and true, darkening the sky with thousands of the lengthy javelins that shredded what semblance of order the daedra had acquired.Hundreds were punched off their feet or cast to the ground as broken things, shredded by the powerful storm falling among their number. The Clannfear and scamps were almost entirely broken and meant that the full brunt of the pila struck deep into the Dremora but their armour and shields were not enough to remain unscathed. The heavy steel tipped javelins punched through daedric steel, human-skin leather and daedric meat with equal ease, wrenching shields from their wielder’s arms or simply dragging them down. In such a confined space the hundreds of daedra now streaming over the writhing trench filled with dead, dying and shit were rendered into a milling, confused mass of lone survivors and a carpet of death, before the successive waves flowing from behind swept over them as they had all the others.It was pure insanity as easily several thousand daedra were dead and from where I stood and even rounding down in my estimate there would have been tens of thousands, perhaps even a sixth of Dagon’s army having been slain before us. and yet they continued to advance, swallowing up the holes formed from the constant barrage of artillery fire and volleys of arrows as quickly as they had appeared. They had smashed their way through the defensive lines and while the cost in blood had been high all that remained was a simple strip of barren soil and an earthen ramp less than three metres wide and two metres tall before the steel clad legionaries.Roaring in hatred and bloodlust that was so powerful that it washed from the horde in a literal physical sensation the daedra pushed on, the final metres in the gap being filled with squirming, clawing foes that found themselves struggling with the artificial ramp. Even unarmoured and unencumbered with weapons and armour it was not something that could be easily or quickly climbed, much less so in the heat of battle with a hostile force standing on the edge. Those that reached it first and began surging up the steep angle found their efforts rewarded with a shield smashing bloodily into them, or a razored edge of a gladius chopping into their hands, throats or faces as they climbed. It took both hands to help haul them up the slope, and not matter whether the foe was mortal or daedra it was impossible to defend oneself and climb at the same time. Still, through nothing more than bloody minded courage and determination and the pressure of the thousands at their backs they tried their utmost to repay the death and pain they were experiencing from the legion.All along the shieldwall I could see the rise and fall of swords, the quick stabs and brutal chopping motions of the legionaries practicing their craft with all the experience and professionalism of the greatest military in Tamriel. They fought with precision and discipline, the first two ranks engaging the daedra clawing their way up the ramp and throwing them back either dead or wounded. Every daedra or Dremora that was killed or knocked from the top of the ramp fell backwards onto those behind and below, causing even more chaos and hindering their fellows with their wounded bodies or corpses. Within minutes of finally being engaged in close quarters violence the base of the ramp was a pile of slippery, bloodied forms that were crushed under the boots of those following, whether they were still alive or not did not matter as their fate was now to be trampled under their fellows.The thrill of fear at the sight of the army had given way to amazement as the battle unfolded at the sheer destructive might of the legions at war, but the crawling sensation in my bowels could not be ignored as it steadily returned. For every minute that passed, every volley of arrows loosed into the milling swarm below and every wave of howling Daedra that was slain there was so many ready to take their place. The great black stain on the land was kilometres across and by now the sheer scale and difference in numbers was impossible to ignore. Especially how the ten ranks of the legion were a pitifully tiny strip barely twenty metres deep against a force spanning a full kilometre into the distance.Despite all the care and effort undertaken by Bruma’s defenders to reduce this overwhelming difference in forces there was still a yawning gap in strength between them. The hundreds of thousands of daedra that were being compressed into the centre of a perfect defensive position were soon taking their toll on the legionaries and the hundreds of supporting forces around them. Some of the more lightly armed or agile of the daedra were somehow succeeding in scaling the cliffs on the flanks despite the efforts of the militia and mercenaries defending them. I watched in horror as a pair of spindly limbed Vermai managed to scrabble up the cliffs and over the makeshift crenulations and proceed to slaughter a dozen or more militia before they were felled from sheer weight of numbers. One of the monstrosities vanished under a dozen flashing halberds and other polearms, being crushed and hacked to death even as it eviscerated one of its killers. On the other flank handfuls of scamps were proving to be a deadly annoyance as they too managed to scale the cliffs, setting an emplaced scorpion on fire with their magicka and harassing the defenders as they were picked off with blade and bolt.Even in the centre the Legions were no longer experiencing a one sided battle, as the more and more daedra pressing up the slope entangled the legs, or grasped shields or sword arms of their killers in an attempt to dislodge the shield walls. More than one legionary was pulled off their feet and several were even dragged down the slope and slaughtered by the ever growing numbers of Dremora clamouring for their lives. Others were lucky enough to be pulled back or held tightly by their comrades standing behind them with tight grips on the backs of their armour or belts to keep the formation. The close knit ranks were still holding firm, but every minute whistle blasts could be heard, the front ranks quickly rotating through the lines to the rear and even from my position I could see that the numbers of wounded were increasing just as much as the gaps in the lines were.The tension that was building was a physical sensation, one that extended beyond the unyielding pressure of tens of thousands pushing against the thin line of legionaries. Horns were echoing over the sounds of constant battle, as were shouted orders, cries of pain and prayers being offered to the gods. The whistle blasts of the legions were growing ever more pronounced as the tribunes and centurions did their best to rotate the wounded and exhausted from the front ranks but the enemy was fully engaged now. With spear, axes, swords and maces the daedric infantry were grinding their way up the last slope and battering themselves on the shield wall and while they were paying for the effort in blood they were beginning to make headway.Standing amongst the Blades I mightn’t have been able to the entire battlefield but I could see more than enough to know that the critical time had arrived. The orders being passed from the General were becoming more and more precise, and the delay between them reducing until the orders, waving of flags and blasts from the various horns were almost rolling into a single mass of noise and colour. Everything from the artillery dead zone and the forester’s volleys were brought in closer to the shield walls until the threat of friendly fire became a very real threat. Specialised ammunition such as the quicklime pots and others filled with explosive mixtures of firesalts and other esoteric materials were being hurled ever closer in an effort to thin out the daedric ranks but they forged on through the fire and lung scouring clouds. Their advance was not stopping, barely even slowing and while easily a fifth of the daedric army had been laid low there were still thousands more baying for our lives.Before our horrified eyes we could see the centre of the legionaries’ lines buckling under the pressure, their thin ranks acting little more than a simple dam attempting to hold back the weight of the Rumare. Dozens in the rearward ranks were doing everything they can to shore up their comrades in front of them, using their shields and throwing their weight forward even as their armoured and sandalled feet were being forced backwards in the dirt. Chanting cries of “Push!” could be heard from the legionaries, as they continued to struggle to hold the daedra back, the front ranks stabbing and hacking with close, short ranged strikes as they killed and killed and killed until their arms grew leaden and heavy.The desperate attempts to force the daedra back redoubled but there was no pushing them back from the foothold they had forged. Even the attempts and efforts from the several dozen battle mages and supporting spell casters could only do so much, the various adept in the schools of magicka assisting where they could with every trick in their considerable arsenal. Elemental forces were conjured and thrown into the press, burning, shocking, freezing and poisoning scores, while other, subtler types of magicka were also felt. Hannibal Traven and a small coven of mages from the Arcane University along with others of their kind from the Bruma Mages Guild, and the Legion Battle Mages were applying their considerable talents in other ways. Gladii were wreathed in elemental powers, steel armour and even fabric suddenly took on the properties of ebony and mithril, the growing fatigue sapped away and enemy projectiles, both mundane and mystical were blocked by glowing wards sparking into existence between the Legions and their foe.As for the daedra, some were stopped in their tracks as the ground was transformed into the consistency of quicksand, before solidifying into concrete around their shins. The ramp in places would magically gain the properties of glass and leave entire waves of hate fuelled creatures tripping and sliding back down in almost comical piles, others would be crushed as their armour suddenly increased in weight by hundreds of kilograms. Some were blinded, others the air ripped from their lungs, were turned against their foes in a murderous frenzy or simply came to a complete stop as their muscles froze as solid as steel. Every skill or ability that the mages knew were being employed in every way they could imagine but even with such destructive and powerful abilities they too were only mortal. Casting and conjuring such powers could only be sustained for so long, even with access to potent alchemical mixtures and potions and like the Legionnaires they too couldn’t keep up such a pace forever.Heaving and bucking the ranks of the Legionaries were being forced back step by painful step, fighting and killing and dying to try to close ranks and push the daedric tide back. A level of desperation was growing stronger across the entire army and with it a new type of fear that was not present before. It was the fear of defeat and loss, one that spurred those within the shield wall to redouble their efforts but there was only so much mortal flesh and steel could accomplish and with horrified eyes we could do little but watch as the centre ranks buckled and were smashed aside as the first of the daedra broke through.