Imagine if there was no Hero of Kvatch.

By which I mean there is no prisoner placed by Akatosh, and the cell is empty when the Emperor makes his escape.

Not much changes at first, except Baurus is given the Amulet and told to bring it to Jauffre. Glenroy still dies, and Baurus kills the assassin but isn't fast enough to stop Uriel's death.

Baurus sets off for Chorrol on his own.

Meanwhile in Kvatch, the Oblivion gates open. The siege engine destroys the city. There is no hero to show up and inspire the men or close the gate. Just a priest named Martin.

He remembers his friends deaths at the hands of Sanguine, he sees the carnage, and his hand grips his dagger tightly. "Not again."

He makes a choice. And stands. And opens the door to the chapel. Amidst protests from the city folk, he steps outside. Met immediately by a Dremora, old instincts take over and he absorbs the life from its body and channels it into a bolt of ice that sweeps over the others running to attack.

More will come, he doesn't have time to waste, so he raises a shield and charges to the gates of the city, forcing his way through. The Oblivion gate rises before him, flaming and cracking with sweltering heat.

Martin bares his teeth in defiance and plunges into the realm of the Daedra. There is no hero plucked from fate by Akatosh and placed into the scheme of things like a piece in a game.

No, there is only Martin. Priest, Sanguinite, Mage. An ordinary man with dragon blood burning in his veins. A dragon's instinct roaring at him to claim, protect, retake what is mine.

Bloody hands seize the sigil stone and Oblivion collapses around him as he is flung back into Mundus.

Burned and beaten, he rises to his feet and snaps at the guards to reclaim their home.

Ordinary Martin, extraordinary Martin, is the one to break the daedric siege. And when it is over and nothing from Oblivion remains alive, Martin looses his grip from his dagger and begins to heal the wounded. At his heart, he is a healer.

But the gentlest souls are those with the most to protect, the longer wrath is stayed the sharper it becomes. When Baurus arrives in search of the last son, he doesn't find a city under siege, but he finds a simple man helping his people to rebuild. Martin takes some convincing, but eventually agrees to meet Jauffre.

When they arrive to find the Amulet gone and the priory under attack, it is Martin who shakes the Blades from their shock and forms a plan to take it back. Blades are sent to all the cities of Cyrodiil to look for information, with Baurus and Martin going to Imperial City.

Jauffre protests, but Martin draws the sigil stone from his pockets, bares the scars on his arms, and growls that he is a protector, not a prized relic.

To prove his point, he smashes the sigil stone and uses its magic to enchant his dagger with a powerful lightning spell. He hopes he will never have to use it, but it's more subtle than magic.

In the end, he accepts that he is a Septim purely to force the Blades to cease arguing that he stay locked safely in a room. He sends the Blades to teach others how to close the Oblivion gates, and he and Baurus find the Commentaries, and Martin solves the riddle easily.

They go to the shrine of Dagon, rescue the prisoner, and seize the Mysterium Xarxes. Martin studies the book on the road while Baurus keeps watch. The Blades oust spies from Bruma as Martin retakes Sancre Tor.

Wearing the armor of his ancestor, he claims the Great Welkynd Stone. When the Great Gate is opened at Bruma, The Blades stand strong and defend the town as their Prince, their Emperor, once again plunges himself into the Daedric plane to protect what is his.

His prowess with magicka shines brightest here, destruction and alteration aiding him in outracing the siege engine. Never again would there be another attack like the one at Kvatch.

Martin scarred the ancient runes into the rock near the fallen engine, and with the town of Bruma holding vigil, he entered Paradise.

In the end, Paradise was no match for a dragon's wrath and Mankar fell with a blade of lightning piercing his heart.

Martin watched the beautiful hell crumble around him and none could deny his blood when he emerged with the Amulet of Kings shining upon his breast.

All of this was still not enough to prevent Dagon's attack, and Martin stood alone in the Temple.

He bared his teeth in defiance a final time and dragon fire rose to defeat the prince of destruction.

The statue that remained held its claws over the city, wings outspread, and maw opened in a fearsome roar.

Martin had the final word, and that word was enough.