What renders unto Bethesda belongs Bethesda.
This is perhaps the first Oblivion story I had actually published. I came up with the idea, because I had always admired the ideas of crusaders and their jihadist counterparts such as Saladin. Both believing in their respective religion and fighting for it. Plus I loved the Knights of the Nine quest line when it first came out.
For those who are reading my Fallout Story Riders of the Pines, don't worry. I'm having a serious case of writer's block and this is just a way of trying to break it. I'll finish it.
I was really inspired by the story His Claim to Fame by Andear.
I'm not much for summeries or author's words, so I'll just get into to it.
Peace. A word meaning freedom from conflict or disagreement among people or groups of people. And so had it been from the beginning of the fourth age, nigh on ten years.
People began to slowly but certainly forget the crisis that had enveloped the whole of the world with demonic beasts from Oblivion. To forget the chaos, misery, and death they brought upon the land. And they forgot the heroes who bled and died so that the world of Cyrodiil would remain free and beautiful.
They even forgot their champion who vanished into obscurity and legend.
But our story is not of the Oblivion crisis, as it had become known. Nor is it of the champion who sacrificed so much.
Rather this story is of another individual, one who also saved the world from an ancient and terrible evil that once threatened the same rebellion that in turn created the Imperial empire.
But in order to tell that story, it must be told from the very beginning.
It must be told of a simple trip to the city of Anvil, to pray to the chapel of Dibella.
The port city of Anvil, carried on as much as it ever had. The sailors from foreign lands relaxing before they ship out again, with abundances of both ale and pleasurable company. The many races of Imperials, Bretons, Redguard, Elves, Orcs, Argonians, and Kajiit went to and fro with their daily chores, with the crimson-tunic guards keeping steady watch.
The streets were filled with outside merchants with large wagons drawn by oxen, mules, or horses filled with foods, herbs, exotic caged animals, spices, and other items ranging from the most necessary, to the most mundane.
Nobody seemed to notice the three individuals that walked through the gates. They were two Imperial men, and one Redguard woman. All three had tattered and patched clothing, with equal conditioned satchels, and rucksacks. The only thing that didn't appear in poor condition were the weapons each of them carried. A silver ornate sword with a large sapphire in the pommel lashed to the rucksack, an iron mace hung from the right hip, and a steel war pick hung from the left as well as a bow on the back beside the quiver of arrows.
The youngest Imperial, with long natural black hair, a scruffy beard and mustache, with pale green eyes, looked around and then back to his companions. He straighten out his patched brown coat
"Well, Robert how about you and Ashen find us some rooms." He said as the Redguard, Ashen sighed gratefully.
"I'm in agreement. I'm in desperate need of a bath." She said as she adjusted her rucksack.
Robert, who towered over both of them nodded tiredly. "Agreed. I'll also purchase three slabs of meat, fresh bread, and try to find some decent ales while I'm there." He said and patted his younger friend on the shoulder. "So I take it you'll want to spend time at the chapel first, Balian?"
Nodding, Balian gave a sheepish smile and shrugged. "It's the only reason I came here."
Ashen chuckled and shook her head. "You pilgrims." She said with amusement. " You still can pique curiosity." Then both Robert and herself proceeded to the Count's Arms Tavern which was down the street. Leaving Balian by himself near the gate.
As he proceeded, he noticed a mother with a child by her side, and a bundle in her arms. It wasn't hard to surmise that she was a beggar, especially with the even poorer condition of her family's clothes than his own.
He stared at them with remorse and nodded to himself. Balian then proceeded to stuffing his hand into his pocket as he approached them. What he retrieved was small collection of gold septims.
"It's not much. But it should be enough to purchase bread." He said as he gently placed the coins in her hand.
The mother smiled almost tearfully, and nodded. "Stendarr will bless you." she said as she shepherded her eldest child towards a stand.
"Perhaps the gods will be generous to us as well." A voice behind Balian said. Sighing, he turned around and was faced with four individuals. They all had poor clothes, and all had either a dagger or a truncheon in their hands.
"Perhaps, if you'll give me the road." He said passively, while he placed a hand on one of the straps to his rucksack.
"We're simple beggars, who would like a little money in order to eat." The leader, a Kajiit said, as he waved the dagger around in his hand.
Balian noticed that two guards were watching the confrontation, but instead of acting, they were observing. Likely as to what Balian would do.
"Hmm. I wasn't aware that beggars carried weapons." He said, as he dropped the rucksack and placed his hand on the pommel of the sword.
The leader growled as he gripped the blade tighter. "I don't like your tone, boy." He said as they drew closer, and Balian drew the sheathed long sword from his rucksack. However he had not unsheathed it, therefore it was assumingly harmless.
"Well, it's the only tone I have for common thieves." Balian said, now completely surrounded.
The leader sighed in mock anguish. "You should not have done that." He said.
Behind Balian, one of the thieves roared as he ran forward with his club in his hand. As he spun, Balian whipped his sword around and smacked the man across the face with the scabbard. This launched him off his feet, his body spun a few times before hitting the bricked road.
Balian turned quickly as two of the thieves charged him. One with a dagger, another with a truncheon. Surprisingly, Balian tossed the sword at the thug with the club before, he spun and delivered a savage back spin to the thief with the dagger. The foot landed on his chest and he groaned and dropped the dagger. Returning to the thief he threw his sword to, Balian dropped down and used a quickly spun leg to knock the thief on to his back. Soon the young pilgrim stepped over the downed thief and grabbed him by the collar. He then delivered a pair of head butts to his enemy, utterly knocking him unconscious.
Calmly the pilgrim stepped away from the moaning thieves and used his foot to throw up his sword to his waiting hand. He then turned and faced the Kajit leader, who by now was thunderstruck by the speed and ferocity of the young Imperial.
"Now," Balian said, as he unsnapped the sword and unsheathed it. It's length dwarfing the puny iron dagger in the large cat's hand. "You were saying something about generosity?" Balian asked as he gently rested the tip of the sword on the ground and his hands on the pommel.
The thief must've understood his message and not only did he dropped the dagger, he turned tail and ran as fast as his feet could take him.
Balian smirked to himself. "I didn't think so." He said calmly as he picked up the sheath and slid the silver blade back in.
"I've seen that style of fighting before." A voice said that caught Balian's attention. As he turned to pick up his rucksack, he saw a Anvil guard approaching him. "The hand-to-hand doctrine of the Legionnaires of Argonia." He said. "I also noticed some techniques rogues use."
Balian nodded. "That it is, sir." he said with respect and slid the sword back into it's resting place in his rucksack. "From the way you understand it, I'm assuming that you were former Legion yourself?" the young Imperial asked.
"Correct." The captain said smiling. "In fact I was once a Guard Captain." He said as he interlaced his gloved fingers, to re-secure them. "Captain Lex of the Anvil Guard." He said outstretching his hand.
"Balian Ibelin." The young pilgrim said firmly shaking the hand. He looked around and saw the chapel. He smiled peacefully and cleared his throat.
"If you don't mind my asking," Lex interjected. "What is a former Legionnaire doing in your condition?" He asked referring to his for state of clothes. Balian couldn't help but laugh.
"Captain. I've done my duty, now I'd like to continue with my life." He said calmly and nodded to the captain. "Good evening." Balian said as calmly began walking away.
The young Imperial casually strode through the doors of the chapel. The air was cold and stagnant, as was all the chapels. Balian was used to this type of air, as he now visited the chapels quite a lot. He casually made his way down the isles of pews and worshippers and then dropped down to his knees before the alter of Dibella.
There, he clasped his hands together and began praying.
Ashen sighed with contentment as she dried her hair with one towel, and had another wrapped around her body. "Finally. A decent bath since Skingrad." She then stood by her room's window that looked out to the streets. It was here she saw Balian walking back.
She couldn't help but smile ruefully.
Like Balian, she had been a soldier for the Legions in Argonia. In fact that was where she had first met him. It was also there she shared the same pains. Skyrim, and Argonia were in open war with both themselves and with the Empire. They had been forced to do rather unpleasant things during their tour.
Balian, like others had been disillusioned more so than the majority of the Legion. This caused him to desert the Legion and return home to Cyrodiil. The authorities didn't really care as they thought he was dead in the marshes of Argonia and was quickly forgotten. Now he would lie about his tour of duty in Argonia while remaining truthful about the Skyrim campaign.
Ashen met up with by chance in Leyawiin. He was praying with a former mercenary turned pilgrim, Robert Edessa. So out of sibling emotion and understanding of his state of mind, Ashen decided to follow him, though she would never admit that openly. That was almost two years ago.
That however as it turned out, was quite fatiguing.
As morning broke, Balian slowly opened his eyes. Groaning, the young Imperial kicked off the covers of his bed, and moved to a sitting position. He rubbed his eyes, before standing up and slipping his black shirt back on his chest.
He began swinging his arms back and forth to loosen up his muscles as continued to awaken. After fully awaking some more, there was a series of gentle rapping on his door.
"Balian. You awake?" It was Robert.
"Yes. I am." Balian responded.
"We're going to have some breakfast. Care to join us?"
"I'll be out in a moment." He said.
After slipping on his boots, Balian quickly trotted down the steps of the stairs to the tavern. There Ashen and Robert were already feasting on fresh mutton, bread and fruit. Balian sat down on either side of the two and Ashen handed him a plate full of food as she tore into a loaf of bread.
"So where do we go from here? We've prayed at every chapel from Cheydinhal to the sea." Ashen said with her mouth full of bread. Of course this question was directed at the young Imperial and he sat there.
"To be honest, I'm not exactly sure." Balian said sincerely. "I haven't really thought about it." He said. "I understand we can't simply wander over the country like a trio of nomads." he said.
Before he could finish his statement, the sound of screaming could be heard from the open windows. This attracted the attention of the guards, where dozens of them began sprinting to the source of the screaming, their collection of armor and weapons rattling down the street.
This also attracted the attentions of ordinary people, including Balian and his group. Their curiosity forcing them outside to see where the guards were running to. And to Balian's horror, they were running for the chapel.
Not even thinking about it, he began moving down the street, slowly at first, but his pace began to increase. Before he was aware of it, he was in a flat out sprint. Ashen and Robert right behind him.
Balian heard the guards forcing their way into the chapel, and when he rounded the corner past the Mage's Guild, he stopped in his tracks. He saw the guards quickly rushing out of the chapel, a few of them dropping to their knees gasping for breath, some began to vomit.
He didn't even need to reach the entrance of the chapel to smell that pungent odor, or the smell of blood. Mustering his courage, Balian looked inside.
Everything about the scene appalled him. Blood was everywhere, the pews were shattered to splinters, and every priest, priestess, and primate was dead, the markings of heavy bladed weapons on their bodies.
What actually did catch his attention, was the markings in an unknown language that circled around the alter that was stained with the blood of a priestess.
Ashen and Robert soon came up behind him and also witnessed the scene. Ashen used her forearm to cover her mouth and nostrils from the smell. "Bugger!" She shouted looking away. Robert sighed in disgust and shook his head.
Balian, the young pilgrim of the Nine Divines, dropped to his knees, unable to fathom the scene that lay before him.
As people began to gather and stared in horror at the scene, the guards composed themselves and began controlling the crowd, while others drew their weapons and entered the chapel, in search of the perpetrators. A guard picked up the unnoticing Balian and made him rejoin his friends and directed them away from the chapel.
Balian turned away from the church and as he did, he saw an old Imperial man. He was simply dressed, wearing only simple tan robes. He too was staring at the scene, his face grave. Grave like he had just received very bad news.
Then he stared at Balian. Though he didn't show it, there seemed a power behind his eyes. A strong authority. It was almost unsettling.
"I suggest we go back to the inn." Robert said as he groaned. The stench of the dead was very overwhelming. "We can think there." he said. As Ashen nodded and proceeded back, Robert noticed Balian eying the old Imperial. He watched as the stranger turned from his spot and proceeded down an alley way.
Balian stood rooted to his spot as he had stared into the old man's eyes. While there was an unsettling authority behind them, there also was knowledge. Knowledge that convinced him that he knew something behind this heinous assault. The need to know was so high, Balian didn't even realize he was almost running after him.
"Balian!" Robert called out to him and jogged after his younger friend.
As Balian was now sprinting after the stranger, who was near the mouth of the alley. He turned and saw Balian sprinting to him. Balian swore he saw the old man smile at the young pilgrim and then turned back to dead end before walking in.
Balian was nearly on top of the alley when he reached the entrance and skidded to a halt.
The entire alley was empty. Nothing was there.
The old stranger had disappeared.