Intro: The Past
High Rock is, for all intents and purposes, a beautiful land. Warmer than its cousin Skyrim to the east, yet milder than its cousin Hammerfell to the south, it sits in a climate sweet spot, though often cloudy, the weather remains essentially dry, not receiving the sometimes sudden and drastic downpours of rain and snow of the Nordic Homeland. But more than just the climate, High Rock is a cultural hotspot, an area of Aedra and Magic spanning all the way back do the Dawn Era and the supposed creation of the Adamantine Tower. In its early days, the land was in control of a group of elves known as the Aldmeri, and the ancestors of the Nords, the Nedes, building small fortified cities along the coast to strike at the Aldmeri. However not all Nedes and Aldmeri exactly hated each other, and from this mixing of blood came arguably some of the most talented natural mortal magicians in all of Tamriel. First known only as Manmeri, they are now known as Bretons, skilled in magic unlike their Nedic ancestors, yet resistant to it as well, unlike their Aldmeri ancestors. Now we go forward in time, to the docks of Wayrest, where a ship sits in the Iliac Bay, a very particular family of Bretons on the boardwalk next to it, as seamen and other workers bustled around them...
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Chapter 1: Shattered Glass
The docks of Wayrest, like most of the rest of the great city, were loud and bustling. Though today it seemed even more so, as it was the 10th of Sun's Height, the Merchants Festival, and the docks were filed with ships of all sizes, from Hammerfall, from further south in High Rock, even a few ornate ships from the Summerset Isles, the Merchants Festival was a day that Men and Mer alike flocked to, for rare treasures at lower prices. But this particular section of the docks was nearly empty, thanks to a honor guard of Knights of the Rose, keeping the citizens away from the three Bretons on the dock, members of quite an affluent family,the D'Argent's. The mother, Reina, was a slim Breton, with fair hair and violet eyes, and the father Malik, Was darker skinned, showing a mixed ancestry of High Rock and Hammerfell, but still, his Breton side shone more brightly, and standing in front of them, their daughter, Riane. She was known widely throughout all of High Rock's magic and upper class communities as being touched by Magnus himself, as she has been born with blue hair, and some said she was destined to be one of the most powerful mages in High Rock history. The three talked for a few minutes, seemingly having a last minute discussion, before the 20 year old Heiress, climbed up the ramp of her ship, waving to her parents as the ship set off from the dock, turning to the mouth of the Iliac Bay. it was a while before either spoke.
"I know she is strong. But not even the greatest mages can control the mighty ocean" commented Malik.
"She'll be fine" reassured Reina. "There was nothing more the Mages Guild could teach her, we should be happy Arch-Mage Savos agreed to take her in for no tuition. Though I do wish she had taken the overland route…"
"And go through Orc territory? And then those savages in western Skyrim, what are they called, Forsworn?" said Malik, as they turned, heading back towards Castle Wayrest, the honor guard falling in around them "No, the sea is much safer. Sometimes she shows such powerful magic ability that we all forget...she is still a princess...there are many here who would use her to force our hand" as they left the docks, a shadowy figure slipped away from the dock, setting off through the stands and stalls, people hawking their wares, men women and elves alike moving from shop to shop, bags growing heavy and coin purses growing lighter. Eventually the figure slipped into an alley between two taverns, and at the end, disappeared in a cloud of dark smoke, reappearing in the hidden back room of one of the taverns, lit only by candles places around the edge of the room, leaving the center mostly dark.
"She left. Should we contact Harkon?"
"No...send some of our own...we still have ships scattered around various docks. Feed only at night and only animals. The Princess is too powerful, she is a threat to all of Wayrest, all of High Rock. there's something more than just the blessing of Magnus in her. Something far more ancient and powerful. Ambush her in the ghost sea, sink the ship, and dump her in Solstheim, and make sure you finish the job this time."
The shadow nodded, and vanished again, most of the candles in the room extinguishing, the room left in near darkness save for just a pair of glowing red eyes, and the hint of gleaming sharp enamel.
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It had been two weeks their daughter had left to go to the College of Winterhold. Malik had spent most of the time running Wayrest. But in most of his spare time he spent comforting Reina. She had always been one to worry in secret, though she hid it from all. It would not do for the kingdom of Stormhaven to see their royal family so distraught. Still, she kept trying to send ships after Riane with things she thought 'her little baby' might need, extra warm cloaks, health potions, magic scrolls, an entire squad of battle mages from the Mages Guild to be her protectors each time malik had to stop her, reminding her that their daughter already had their warmest cloak, had more than enough potions for the journey, and had, on several occasions, been the protector OF the Mages of the Guild. Still even Malik had to admit, that by the time three weeks had passed with no word from their daughter, even he was starting to worry. He knew Riane could get a little...distracted occasionally, but still, three weeks, for a week and a half journey? After 4 weeks, Malik was ready to personally go himself and retrace their route, he hd even packed everything he would need, even pulling his old Alik'r sword down from its spot above the fireplace, polishing and sharpening it. But then it was on the night before he was to set out, a dark knight, the two moons, Secunda and Masser, completely blocked by storm clouds. He had just finished putting together his travel pack, he was scheduled to leave the next morning, but then from outside came a crack of thunder, followed by a pounding on the front door. Soon after a man was brought to them, soaked, clothes tattered, body cut and bruised. It took Malik a moment to recognize this beaten man as the ship's captain of Riane's ship, a strong hardy man, quite a sailor and a frightening storm mage. Beside him, not a moment after he heard a frightened gas from his wife.
Malik knelt next to the man, putting a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder, a kings grip. "Tell me what happened"
For a moment no one spoke, the only sound being the falling of the rain, and the occasional thunder. Then the man lifted his head, saying nothing, but offering up a small wrapped package. As Malik took it, starting to unwrap it, the sailor's vois wavered out quietly. "We were in the Ghost Sea. we had just left the Dawnstar port, when the fogs set in….we couldn't see very far ahead...that is when they came...was unlike anything I'd ever seen before….the ferocity...was like our magic had no effect…"
Finally unwrapped, Malik looked down in his hands. A pendant, sparkling blue stone set in a delicate cage of gold. It was Riane's, a sigh of her status. The other thing was a dagger, made of dark metal, though chipped from battle and stained with blood, it was unmistakably Orichalcum. Which meant…
"Orc's...those….monsters...go. Leave. Find your family. You've done well to bring me this news." the sailor got up, staggering back out into the stormy night. For a long time neither Malik nor Reina spoke. The servants had stayed put, but as the storm faded outside, and the first hint of sunlight on the horizon, they all scattered. Malik, who until this moment had been still, staring only at the two items he held, now turned to his wife, placing the pendant in her hands, closing them around it. Before he turned to the map on the wall, and with a shout of rage he threw the dagger with pinpoint accuracy, sticking it right into the map over Orsinium,the force of the impact causing everything in the room to break heralding the dawn with the sound of shattering glass.