Whiterun Hold
With tired hands, Clovis pulled his blade out of the Nord's chest, and then kicked her body to the ground. His golden eyes scanned the field, trying to pick out familiar figures from the chaos of battle.
He fixed his gaze to the sight of a greying Khajiit, armed with a shortsword, trying desperately to stay alive against a huge Nord wielding a two handed hammer.
Clovis ran forward, mindful to keep his balance in the muddy grass, sword at the ready. In his left hand, a ball of lightning his palm, waiting to be unleashed.
As the Nord swung at the Khajiit, Clovis unleashed his lightning, striking the warrior in the head, and killing him instantly.
The Khajiit dropped to her knees, and began panting heavily. Clovis bent down and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Are you wounded Dra-Jarna?" he asked.
She shook her head and looked up, smiling a bit.
"This one thanks you for your concern Clovis, but it will take more than a large man with a hammer to injure Dra-Jarna! Still, Dra-Jarna will not say no if you offer her a stamina potion."
Clovis stabbed his sword into the ground, reached into his sidepack, and pulled out a flask, offering it to Dra-Jarna, who took it in her free claw, three her head back, and downed around a cup of green liquid. When she lowered her head, her eyes widened as she looked past the both of them.
"Behind you!" she shouted.
Clovis raised his sword and blocked a blow from an axe, coming face to face with a scowling Nord.
Dra-Jarna shot past him, claws extended, and slashed the Nord's face, causing him to scream in pain. The Khajiit matriarch knew an opening when she saw one, and grabbed the Nord by the shoulders, clamped her jaws around his neck, and tore out his throat.
"Many thanks Dra-Jarna." Clovis said as he took a swig from his flask, fleeing the potion restore his tired body, even if only by a bit.
"You can thank Dra-Jarna by helping her find her grandchildren in this mess." she replied picking up her short sword, "Dra-Jarna has not seen them since the fight began."
"The La's and Ja'Singh are adults." Clovis said as he scanned the battlefield, "They don't need you constantly watching them."
"When you have children of your own, you will understand." Dra-Jarna said, her ears twitching, "Until then, just help Dra-Jarna!"
"If you insist My Lady."
Clovis raised a hand and cast the clairvoyance spell. A stream of blue light appeared before him, leading deep into the center of battle, where his mercenaries and the Nords fought one another.
"There." he said, dismissing the spell before it could drain more of his magicka, "It seems they're all sticking together."
"Good; then let us go."
Dra-Jarna led the way, followed by Clovis, who sheathed his sword in favor of dual casting flames, setting alight several foes on their way to Dra-Jarna's grandchildren.
"Do not fear Old Cat." Clovis said as the pair of them ran, dodging a hail of Nord arrows, "They'll be fine; Ja'Singh is as slippery as an eel, and the La's, well, you know the La's."
"You know they hate it when you call them that." Dra-Jarna said with a smile, "It makes them sound like twins."
"If they don't like it, then maybe they should stop finishing each other's sentences, and cease to dress alike." Clovis suggested.
Dra-Jarna's scoff was cut off by the sudden appearance of a wall of frost, which froze several Nords before them in their tracks.
"That's them." Clovis stated, using his sword to shatter a frozen Nord.
Ahead were three Khajiit; though no one would have been able to guess they were related. The male, J'Singh, looked every bit like the catfolk of Elsewyr, being grey with black stripes, clad in finely crafted leather armor, and wielding a sword in one hand and a short sword in the other, practically dancing circles around his opponents. The other two looked nothing like cats; instead, they looked like especially short bosmer, brown skinned and with pointed ears. They were, in fact, Ohmes Khajiit, a breed that looked the most like mer, with the only way to tell them apart from bosmer was the catlike warpaint upon their faces. La'Soasha, the elder girl, used a staff of frost, while La'Kisada, the younger, used a staff of flames.
Together, the three cousins held off a dozen angry Nords, using magic to keep them at bay, while J'Singh slashed at them with his swords.
"Ho there grandchildren!" Dra'Jarna shouted as she joined them, "Still alive I see!"
"Yes grandmother." J'Singh said, "These barbarians are no match for J'Singh."
"Don't get cocky J'Singh." Clovis said as he unleashed his flames upon the Nords, "That's a fast way into an early grave."
""Listen to-" La'Soasha began.
"Clovis!" La'Kisada finished.
"He's been-"
"Around!"
"Would you stop that." J'Singh groaned, "You make J'Singh's head hurt when you do that."
"Focus!" Clovis ordered, taking off an enemy's head with a swing of his sword, "We're not in practice, we're in a battle! Be serious, or else you'll lose your damn heads!"
Clovis' mercenary company/adventurer's guild, the "Azure Lions," were hired by a rich Breton merchant, Gondrier Frasven, from Daggerfall, to retrieve a chest from Skyrim, specifically from one of the ancient tombs that dotted the countryside of that land. Fighting their way through the undead draugr, Clovis' men found what they were looking for; an out of place dwemer chest, locked, and with no apparent way of opening it.
In the process of transporting the chest back to High Rock, the Lions were attacked by a hand of a hundred or so Nord bandits, who came in from all directions, attacking Clovis' band of thirty-five mercenaries.
Needless to say, things looked desperate.
"Do either of you girls have any magicka potions?" Clovis asked the La's. La'Soasha nodded, and pulled out a blue potion, handing it to Clovis, who eagerly took it, letting out a quick thanks to the girl before taking a drink, grimacing as it went down.
"Still taste's awful." he said, but nonetheless he felt his reserves of magical power return to him, "But it does the job."
He charged a lightning spell in both hands, then unleashed it, electrocuting several bandits at the same time.
"This is not looking good." Dra'Jarna stated, "There's still too many of them!"
"Then we abandon the cargo." Clovis announced, quickly drawing his sword and cutting down another Nord, "We let them have it."
"But I thought we never went back on our contracts?" La'Kisada asked.
"We'll get it back later." Clovis explained, "But I'm not throwing away the Lion's lives in a battle where we're likely to all get slaughtered. So we leave for now, and then we take our revenge later. Dra'Jarna, you're in charge of rounding up our people and falling back."
"What about you?" the elder Khajiit asked, concern in her eyes, and those of her grandchildren.
"I'm going to find Shura and her Axe-Sisters." he said, "We'll hold them off, cover your retreat. If I don't make it, then Dra'Jarna, you're in charge; understood?"
"... Dra'Jarna understands."
Clovis saw the familiar sight of a dozen Orsimer fighting together, holding off a score of Nords.
"There they are." he said, "Now go!"
The Khajiit did as they were ordered, and Clovis began to make his way towards the orcs… only to notice that the battle had stopped.
Not in the way that people had stopped fighting; but that everyone was frozen in place, caught in the act of violence.
"What in the name of the Eight and One…" Clovis began, "Wait, this is…"
"It has been a while Clovis."
Clovis turned around and saw another Altmer, like himself, dressed in rich blue robes, the only other person moving besides himself.
"Master Olquen." Clovis said, bowing his head to the woman, "It's been a while since you contacted me."
"We have no time for pleasantries Clovis." she said, "A great threat comes now, and we see you in the middle of it."
"I would be more than happy to do your bidding right now Master." Clovis said, "But, in case you have not noticed, I am in the middle of something right now. If I survive this, then could we speak then?"
"You misunderstand." Olquen stated, "That which is coming is occuring as we speak. Be prepared. I cannot stay for much longer; stay alive."
"Wait, what are you talking about?" Clovis asked, but he received no answer as Olquen disappeared.
"Damn Psijics." he muttered under his breath as time returned to normal.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when a screaming Nord charged him. Clovis raised his sword to meet him when the ground began to shake.
"Oh what now?" he Clovis said between gritted teeth, "I swear Olquen, if this is you again-"
A stone structure, as large as a tower, materialized from thin air, as if it had been summoned by a powerful conjuration spell.
It was a colossal gateway, made of stone, with a reflective magic in the center.
"Well… she wasn't kidding when she said it was coming." Clovis muttered, noticing that everyone around him had ceased fighting.
A chorus of voices spoke up all at once.
"Is it an Oblivion Gate-"
"Can't be! The Dragonfires still burn-"
"Talos save us-"
"What is that thing-"
Clovis took this distraction to reach Shura and her Axe-Sisters, grabbing her shoulder to get her attention.
"Shura, we need to pull back."
"But that Oblivion Gate," she started, "Daedra could come out-"
"If it is an Oblivion Gate, then we don't want to be around much longer to find out what kind of daedra are the other side-"
"Something's coming out!" he heard someone shout.
Sure enough, something had emerged from the gate… somethings to be exact. Men, clad in armor and riding horses emerged, first a dozen, and then a dozen more, and then a dozen more.
"They don't look like daedra." Shura said, "They look like the Imperial Legion."
"Even worse then." Clovis said, "But somehow I doubt these folk are from Cyrodiil. We need to leave before they attack-"
A horn was blasted, and the riders spurred their horses on. The first line cut down bandits and Lions alike, caring not whom was who; all were foes to them it seemed.
"We need to cover our people's retreat!" Clovis shouted, firing an ice spike at a rider, which pierced the metal plate and buried itself into the rider's chest, "Put the Nords in between us and them, while we escape-"
"Clovis, look out!" he heard Shura shout. Clovis turned around, and the last thing he saw was a the flat of a sword coming at him.
Then, blackness.
When Clovis awoke, it was to a splitting headache, while laying down. Past the pain, he could feel the mud and the dried blood on his forehead, and it had no doubt gotten into his golden hair as well.
He sat up slowly, only to hit his head on something metal. Groaning, he looked around, and saw that metal bars blocked his view of what appeared to be a moving road. Further inspection would reveal that he was in a cage, along with several other people, on the back of a moving wagon, being taken to Divines only know where.
Oh, and his wrists and ankles were also manacled together.
"Well Clovis," he muttered to himself, "This is another fine mess you've gotten yourself into."
Gate: Thus The Elder Scrolls Sent Me There