26th Sun's Dusk 4E 159, Firsthold, Isle of Auridon, Alinor

The Oblivion Crisis: From the Perspective of the Laraethal Family by Yannar Laraethal 4E 25

The Oblivion Crisis, an event that completely ravaged Tamriel, its conclusion ushering in the Fourth Era. No province came out completely unscathed, some fared better than others obviously, Alinor or the Summerset Isles as it was known as then took heavy losses. This included the destruction of the Crystal Tower, one of the archipelago's most famous landmarks. For some, the tower's destruction invoked a loss of morale others however, saw it differently, with their government in a shamble either out of fear or through death resistance groups were formed. While many were crushed by the might of the daedra hordes, several lasted up until the crisis resolved.

Rumaion Laraethal was the leader of one such group, unlike most Altmer he relied solely upon his combat ability with a claymore. Encouraged by Lady Morgiah and Lord Reman Karoodil, and together with the captain of the city guard, Norion Gaeath, and a powerful mage, Reldwen Chaethar who was a close friend of Rumaion's, he rallied the citizens of Firsthold in a rag-tag defence against the forces of Mehrunes Dagon. After driving out the daedra from the city, and with assistance from the Fighter's Guild members remaining in the city the siege defences were consolidated in preparation for the assault that would be sure to come.

Come it did, a great army of daedra over the coming weeks began to amass, gradually shutting off the city's purely terrestrial supply lines as Firsthold did not have a port. It would not have made a difference, after the initial counterattack the Dremora generals cut a great swathe through Auridon in conjunction with their forces on Summerset, capturing the main isle's port cities and ravaging hamlets on Auridon along with the city of Skywatch. It seemed they were determined to starve the citizens out, but lesser daedra are rarely so subtle.

Close to the break of dawn on the twenty-fifth of Sun's Dusk 3E 433 with a mighty battle cry they struck, Scamps and Herne, Clannfears and Atronachs, Dremora and Daedroth. All launched a mass assault on the city, despite their previous determination to hold the city, the morale of many was tested in the face of enemies who had more experience in combat than even the largely Altmer population. There was no hope of evacuation with the city surrounded in the initial stages even those barely into their adolescence were forced to take up spell, sword or both in defence of their home.

Yet, Rumaion was unperturbed, accounts from the day tell that in his final hours he was as fierce as any Orc berserker having taken the lives of at least a hundred daedra before he was finally slain by one of the Dremora generals. Though they faced fierce resistance for about a fortnight, eventually the daedra pushed the citizens back into the very centre of the city. It was here that Norion was to make his last stand, by this point it was the tenth of Evening Star their once formidable fighting force Had dwindled to only two-hundred soldiers and more than a hundred and fifty civilians, many of which were children staring down an army that seemed to infinitely replenish. Yet, Norion was still determined to protect those remaining who could not defend themselves, including Rumaion's then pregnant wife, and my own mother Niria as well as his own family.

Norion gave his last orders, 'Men this is the day we die, but we will not be forgotten, these daedra underestimate us because we are mortals. So, my last order is this: Show these bastards just why the citizens of the Summerset Isles are unlike any in Tamriel! Make them remember us even if they look down on you in those memories, blessings of Auri-El upon all of you!'

With that, the courage of the remaining fighters was restored, as they met the daedra head-on, Norion even being able to slay the Dremora who had killed Rumaion. Despite the odds, it was not a one-sided massacre with even the common folk among them determined to not die in terror. However, Norion was burned alive by a Daedroth and even with the valiant efforts of those who heard his last command, it was evident they were being slowly overwhelmed and then, a miracle occurred.

The daedra simply vanished, gone, as if they had never been there. The only evidence was the corpses both of their brethren and their victims as well as the destruction they had caused in their sack of the city. A strange mix of both grief and euphoria fell over the survivors, with their number being only seventy-three and a good number of them not able to work on repairs due to their young age.

The citizens attempted to salvage what they could but with their small number it was difficult, orphans had been created, many able-bodied workers and soldiers had been maimed in the assault, and with the fate of many others on Auridon unknown terrestrial supply lines were almost completely useless. Clearing out the corpses was a slow, arduous and grief-stricken process, the exact death toll is not known due to how the city's population would often fluctuate and the fact that little trace was often left of some who were killed. During this time, I myself was born to my mother, who only survived thanks to Reldwen being an experienced healer.

After another two weeks, many among the survivors had completely given up hope, with their meagre numbers and without sufficient means, even feeding themselves was proving difficult. That is until a certain ship was spotted, heading straight for them, it was of Altmer make, constructed of shimmering crystal it was hard not to spot. The survivors gathered on the cliffs just outside the city, while there was initial difficulty docking, there was just enough of a coastal alcove quite far from the city to allow the ship to pull in. They were wary, some refusing to believe it could be anything more than a trap, that this was just a cruel ploy the monsters that had ravaged their home.

Miraculously, it was not.

Instead, the gangplank lowered and a lone Altmer, clad in black and gold robes stepped forward, behind him, two guards in what seemed to be specially-made, elven-make armour that unlike the regular variant was coloured in the same palette as their companion's clothes exited the boat behind the robed one. While the presence of their kinsmer alleviated fears, there was still confusion as to exactly who they were. The only one of the three who spoke was the first one to exit the ship, asking to speak to a representative. Naturally, Lady Morgiah and Lord Karoodil were chosen as they were the city's leaders before and during the events. The two were asked to choose someone as a third-party representative who would witness what was about to unfold.

The reason for why they were there is that they were envoys from the Third Aldmeri Dominion, otherwise known as the Thalmor. They had always been somewhat of a minority voice in the politics of the Isles yet apparently had been efficient enough to provide aid to themselves and others across the country. After explaining that they had been the ones to banish the daedra back to Oblivion (it was never disclosed exactly how they did this but due to the power of such magic I can only assume that it's kept secretive for the greater good). Their vessel was loaded with food, gold and various building materials, all of which would aid in rebuilding the city as well as the lives of the survivors. The only catch was to swear fealty to the Thalmor government, in the face of such desperation the answer was quite obvious, Lady Morgiah and Lord Karoodil took the deal.

With accounts provided to them by the survivors, the envoys learned of the sacrifices of Rumaion and Norion, their role in history soon becoming immortalised. The envoys, along with other Thalmor representatives who arrived shortly after the first ship assisted in establishing a government in Firsthold once again. The monarchy in the isles was done away with shortly after, instead, each city would be required to democratically elect a leader to the newly formed High Parliament as a representative of the city. More officials would also be elected to run the day to day operations in sub-regions outside of the capital city, when this information was first brought to the attention of the surviving citizens, Morgiah and Karoodil were elected together, with Reldwen to serve as their steward and advisor.

At this time, Firsthold is still recovering from the destruction that was inflicted upon it and the Thalmor officially took charge of the entire archipelago just three years ago but Reldwen has assured me personally that within the next year or so, it will be back to how it was before the crisis. A master marble mason was contracted to sculpt statues in honour of the two heroes, along with a plaque dedicated to the known victims who lost their lives both citizen or soldier. To this day the Laraethal, Gaeath and Chaethar families are as close with each other as they are with their own blood relatives, may our relationship with the Dominion continue to prosper.

The young Altmer boy closed the gold, leather-bound book he had read for the umpteenth time. He was about nine years old, though technically he was ten since the day was currently his birthday, despite it being early morning. As such, a candle lit up his bedside table, using the light to read in the early morning murk. He had green eyes, chin-length black hair and when standing upright would measure five foot in height. Just a perk of being a child of the tallest dominant race on Tamriel, this was Enron Laraethal, grandson of Rumaion.

While the book written by his father was nearly a century and a half old, it was still very much a relevant piece in the history of Firsthold. It was always one of the young mer's favourite books, even if it was a somewhat brief account of the history, Enron was always fascinated by stories of his grandfather told by his grandmother. The Laraethals had remained staunchly warriors, with Yannar being the baby born to Niria choosing to forego magic, eventually meeting another like-minded Altmer in Enron's mother, Miruen.

Enron had just opened the book again, when a soft knocking occurred on his door, just after a soft, but slightly gravelly voice spoke up, "Master Enron, are you awake?"

Recognizing the voice as Ma'vani, one of the Laraethal's servants and the one who would help the young noble get changed. In a panic, he quickly smothered the flame on his candle's wick, shoved the book under his pillow and pulled the sheets over him to give the illusion he had been sleeping. A click that indicated the handle of his door was being pulled down sounded and the framed, opaque glass moved, "Sleep well, master?" The young adult, brown-furred, Suthay-Raht Khajiit asked.

Enron made a few grunts and shuffled lightly before sitting up in bed again, giving a stretch and a yawn, "Very well, thank you, I slept the whole night." He responded politely.

"Really?" Ma'vani remarked in a playfully sarcastic tone as she opened the statin curtains, though it didn't do much as it was still dark outside, thus Ma'vani cast a Candlelight spell, illuminating the room in a bright glow.

"Then why is it," She began taking a small sniff, "I can smell freshly melted candle wax," (1) Another, slightly longer sniff, "A little bit of smoke, and…" Finally taking a sniff of exaggerated length, "A copy of the Oblivion Crisis: From the Perspective of the Laraethal Family."

Unusually, Enron who had known Ma'vani as his caretaker for four years, was surprised by her last comment, "Your nose is really that good?"

"No," She responded pointing at Enron's pillow with playful smile, "The spine is sticking out."

The young mer looked sheepish as he realised that in his haste he hadn't quite hidden the book as effectively as he thought, causing his friend to chuckle and even affectionately ruffle his hair. Especially among Altmer nobility it was rare to see such a close relationship between the servant and the lord they served, Ma'vani was arguably more of an elder sister to Enron than a worker.

"Come now master, don't want to be late for your big day." Ma'vani spoke up, more serious this time as she replenished the Candlelight spell and opened up the wardrobe. Enron grinned in excitement, before the two occupants of the room was a very small set of armour, simple iron but a lot lighter than the real thing and not quite as protective for a serious fight. It would however, serve well as training armour and get Enron accustomed to wearing heavier sets of armour at a young age.

The light-based spell reflected brilliantly off the components of the armour set, perfectly showcasing the effort that had gone into making the custom set, even though it would have been no trouble for an Altmer smith to forge. The chest piece was not a simple cuirass but rather was adorned with pauldrons that went down to the elbow with the shoulder area shaped to look like the eagle of the Aldmeri Dominion. In similar fashion at the centre of the chest was also the Dominion's insignia. The basic gauntlets and greaves would fully encompass the areas of his arms and legs not covered by the pauldrons. The helm resembled a fusion between both elven and iron make, lacking the horns and visor of a traditional iron helmet but having grooves and extra décor rising from the back of the head to resemble the head feathers of an eagle.

After cleaning himself up for the day ahead, he was assisted into the main body of the armour by Ma'vani, the boots were the next to go on, though Enron swiftly grabbed them, to which his servant raised an eyebrow. Enron silently nodded, his friend folding her arms across her chest, watching as he pulled up the boots and secured them. After doing the same with the gauntlets, he lowered the helmet onto his head. Now he really did look like a warrior, a remarkably short one but a warrior nonetheless.

Given the clunky nature of the armour and his inexperience at wearing it, Enron found it a little awkward to move around, even needing help down the stairs by Ma'vani. Once the two were out the door, the young Altmer found it still slightly encumbering but he was able to move normally in it at least though more slowly than he would have liked given his eagerness to begin his training as a fully-fledged warrior of the Laraethal's.

The family manor sat upon a small plateau, paved over with limestone aside from a garden area that was lined with paths made of the same material. Like the plateau, the house was constructed of limestone, three stories high and two spires connected to the house rose from either side. The slanted roof carved into tiles of opaque, white crystal. In contrast, the garden was a vast array of colours, plumes of vibrant red roses and blues from mountain flowers side by side with the pinkish-purple colour of nightshade to name but a few. It was a sizeable house for the family, as expected of Altmeri construction, if one were to split the mansion down the middle, one would find it perfectly symmetrical. The two walked towards the gates of the spike-tipped fence that surrounded the premises

The fog that still clung to the streets would dissipate in due course but for now it persisted, shrouding the vision of anyone out at the time. Ma'vani purposefully slowed herself down to allow Enron to keep up, since they needed to pass the time on their way to the training ground she dug into the fur-lined knapsack she brought with her and pulled out an apple. Thankfully, Yannar had the sense to allow Ma'vani to give Enron something light for breakfast before exerting himself.

"Thank you." Enron said as she handed him the fruit, two large silhouettes soon came into view. It was two statues that towered above the two as the one on the left stood at six foot six whilst the one on the right stood at six foot eight. The two statues were similar, having staunch facial expressions as they looked out over Firsthold's market area.

However, the taller of the two stood fully upright as it held a claymore constructed of glass pointing downwards. Slightly cliched and possibly plagiarised from a design standpoint? Yes, but within the citizens it instilled a sense of pride, a reminder that even the malevolence of a Daedric Prince had failed to eliminate the Altmer. A gold plaque was situated under it, engraved into it where a few words:

In memory of Rumaion Laraethal, a brave warrior who made the ultimate sacrifice to ensure the safety of the city he loved with all his heart against the Daedric hordes. A beloved husband.

5th of Last Seed 3E 245 - 28th of Sun's Dusk 3E 433

Enron was almost finished chewing on his apple as he stood in front of his grandfather's statue, by the time the day was done, he would stand in front of the structure again having some slight experience in holding a weapon, "I think I know what you're going to pick." She stated with sly look. It was no secret to anyone that the young elf had a great admiration for his grandfather despite having never gotten the chance to meet the man but that hadn't stopped him becoming enthralled by tales given to him by his grandmother and even Reldwen on occasion, "What do you think you will do once you come of age?" Ma'vani asked, normally it would be inquired as to why someone would ask a mer so young that sort of question but the caretaker already knew her master's answer.

"I want to help protect people, travelling all of Tamriel, and showing them why Alinor is the best province while bringing honour to the Laraethal family. Learning about other cultures is what I want to do, I love mother and father but politics is boring and I don't want to spend the rest of my life here."

"That is a good mindset to have master," Ma'vani replied, "And what would you do if I was in trouble?"

"Save you of course!" Enron responded eagerly with no hesitation, holding out his hand which Ma'vani took, "May I?"

"You may."

Unfortunately, while trained in the art of politeness, at least from a noble's perspective, the young boy still had a way to go before he perfected any such techniques for showing loyalty in the court. Which is why, despite his best efforts, the kiss he placed on Ma'vani's knuckles came out quite sloppy. His head suddenly shot up, as if processing something before his face twisted into one of disgust and with all the grace of a drunk Senche tiger, nearly doubled over as he gagged. Reaching into his mouth, he soon pulled out a single hair.

Whilst Enron was thoroughly displeased by what just happened, Ma'vani couldn't contain herself as she burst out into laughter, "It's not that funny." Enron said.

"Maybe not to you," She said, "But for me it's hilarious!" Naturally, her response caused an indignant grumble.

"I had a feeling I would find you here." A third voice spoke up, the two turned to see another Altmer. A woman who was significantly older than the duo, yet despite the hair that was pulled up into two buns at the back of her head having gone completely grey, there were a scarce few wrinkles to show for her age of nearly three hundred and fifty years. Such was a common effect on practitioners of magic. Her lips were painted black in colour and had been curled into a kind smile, the dark green, silk robes with gold accents on the seams covered her from the neck down.

"Lady Reldwen, it's a pleasure, what brings you out this fine morning? And so early in the day no less?" Ma'vani asked as she gave a polite bow.

The older woman simply gave a dismissive wave, "No need for titles here Ma'vani and after all I am just a steward, in a sense I'm not too different to you." She explained, "As for why I'm here, I just wanted to see off Enron for his first day of training." She continued, kneeling down to get on Enron's level.

"Feeling nervous, little one?" She asked.

"A little bit, but I want to do it, I want to be like grandfather." He replied.

"Good, but you've got a long way to go before you go slaying a hundred daedra," She informed him, nostalgia soon began to fill her tone as she spoke, "Keep at it and maybe one day you will, you look like him too if you ask me, perhaps when you're older you'll look like him more than the statue."

"Have you always been displeased by the mason's handiwork, Reldwen?" Ma'vani asked, slightly confused as she knew for a fact the Chaethar matriarch supported the decision to have the statues implemented.

"They're impressive and for about a decade I didn't really notice much, but then I was looking at them in detail and thought, 'No, Rumaion should have a stupid grin plastered on his face and Norion should look like the arrogant bastard he was.'." Reldwen explained.

"Lady Reldwen!" Ma'vani cried in alarm at such language being used in front of her young master, foregoing her earlier habit of referring to her solely by her first name.

"Oh, don't get your tail in a twist Ma'vani, it's nothing Enron hasn't heard before." She replied dismissively. Now it was Enron's turn to get a laugh out of Ma'vani's displeasure as he grinned at the Khajiit's surprise, "Dear, if you would please…" She prompted to the young mer.

"Grandfather was a kind and noble man. He was very proud about his wife and her success as a merchant, him talking about her near constantly or whenever the subject was brought up while endearing at first soon became irritating, an annoyance that increased tenfold after she became pregnant with father." Ma'vani blinked at the fact that he had just recited something as if it had been scripted to him, "Meanwhile, Norion while a mer who greatly valued his comrades, was arrogant to a fault, once forgetting that fire magic would be severely diminished in wet conditions when he faced off against a wanted criminal in the middle of a rain storm. Luckily though he was saved by his steward, and eventual wife Cirtha. These proclamations can be corroborated by Reldwen Chaethar, Niria Laraethal and any one of the currently alive survivors of the Oblivion Crisis that took place in the city of Firsthold."

At that Ma'vani gave Reldwen a look of utter disbelief, to which the Altmer just nonchalantly shrugged, not her fault if the lad who saw her as a second grandmother was so fascinated by their shared history… and that he may or may not have been encouraged to repeat a completely accurate description of her friends.

"Anyway, I'll see you soon Enron," Reldwen said, placing a hand on his head, "Morgiah and Karoodil are expecting me to give advice on some urgent matters for the Thalmor. Good luck little one."

While the two walked along, they soon came upon a large building, reaching four stories in height, like many of the buildings it was made of a kind of white stone. Above a wooden doorway, there were two banners flying, both were gold bearing the eagle of the Dominion. Once, Enron had been told, this was a guild hall for the Fighter's Guild but in the aftermath of the Oblivion Crisis, the guild's communication with other branches across the continent had been halted as the new government resorted to shutting itself off from the rest of Tamriel. The guild itself was eventually dissolved and the members either integrated into the ranks of the Dominion's army or exiled. Now it was used as a place of training for those hopeful in serving the Dominion.

As Enron and Ma'vani entered the building, it was clear to see what the function of the ground floor was. On the left side, there was a training area, filled with beaten up dummies packed with straw though few possessed any tears despite their apparent age. That was probably a result of the weapons they would be using, lined up on racks on the right side, all wooden and fashioned to resemble a variety of equipment. Finally, at the back were bookshelves lined with tomes of numerous colours, no doubt containing information on how to use the weaponry.

Surprisingly, there were already a few children in the building, though the hall was willing to accept any applicant to see if there was potential as a soldier. The others had ceased their training, reading or browsing to take note of the new Altmer who was visibly richer than they were given that at best they wore practice gear provided by the hall and at worst had simple clothes on. Enron, too proud to show nervousness in meeting those who could very well be his new compatriots, stood out in front of Ma'vani and puffed his chest out.

"A good display, but relax yourself, son." A voice chuckled above them, they recognised the deep, smooth tone as that of his father. Enron did so, exhaling but still standing upright. It was then that his father came into view, walking behind him was his mother.

Both were helmetless, Yannar clad in reinforced glass armour, now a darker green and silver in colour, an elven-make Warhammer strapped to his back. Miruen was different, preferring to be light on her feet, wearing the traditional Elven armour. Her weapon was a glaive, the pommel shaped like the head of an eagle whilst the bladed part of the polearm was effectively an enlarged version of an elven dagger.

The other six children seemed surprised and looked at their seniors with reverence, three Altmer, two Bosmer and a Khajiit. Although the Laraethal's were known largely for Rumaion's part in reducing the effects of the Oblivion Crisis, Miruen and Yannar were famous in their own rights as accomplished soldiers in the Dominion's army by keeping various areas across Alinor safe from highwaymen, daedra worshippers and necromancers.

"Mother, father." Enron greeted, giving a polite bow to them.

"You may leave us now Ma'vani," Yannar instructed, the servant wordlessly giving a curtsy before making her way out of the building, "And what are you lot gawking at?" He addressed the other children, "Get back to your tasks." The obedient apprentices complied, not wishing to potentially incur their idol's ire.

Miruen smirked proudly both at her husband's discipline of the next generation, and at the visible eagerness her son was displaying, "Choose your weapon Enron." She instructed softly.

The young heir practically bounced towards the practice weapons, the eyes of his soon-to-be peers watching him with a subtle closeness. He wasted no time in grabbing the wooden claymore as soon as it was in his grasp, something about holding it just felt right, as if he really was born to swing such a weapon.

Yannar looked over his son's shoulder, "You're holding it wrong, son," He said, constructively showing Enron his mistake by moving his right hand just below the hilt and the left hand just above the pommel, "That's it, that's as much as I can show you with the time I've got. So, talk to the other students and teachers for advice, study hard and come back to the manor afterwards. We'll have a surprise waiting for you." Enron nodded as he grinned, he already knew it would quite obviously be a birthday celebration but the harder he worked, the sweeter the reward.

After waving goodbye to both of his parents, who responded in the same manner, Enron took in a deep breath. He turned to the others, who with Yannar and Miruen's absence now turned their full attention towards him. Ceasing practices with the wooden copies, looking up from books and stopping any conversations they were having. Six sets of eyes bored into him like arrows from a Bosmeri archer, clearly sizing him up in their own ways as they formulated initial opinion of him. Exhaling the young Altmer walked forward, hoping to make a good first impression.

A/N: Roll Credits! Welcome one and all to the first instalment of a long-term project of mine called, Children of Tamriel. Effectively, it's one-part writing project/exercise, one-part story. All of the main OCs of these stories are based on a mix of my own playthroughs and even builds from a particular Youtube Channel. Events that take place in Skyrim will eventually be covered in future stories as the ones in which the main OCs initially appear in serve as prologue stories. Reviews are very much appreciated; any constructive feedback you guys could give would be fantastic as I aim to make this series the best it can be, I hope I've impressed at least some of you and with any luck, I'll see you guys next time!

1) Basically, most Khajiit that appear in the Summerset Isles are taught the 'proper' way to speak, hence why Ma'vani doesn't talk in the third person.