Chapter 1: Arrival to Cyrodiil
Nirn, the Mortal Plain, Mundas, there are many names for the world that the vast and magical land of Tamriel resides on. The origin of this realm came at the hands of the Divines, the Aedra. Gods that the majority of the world worship. While they do not interfere in the affairs of mortals directly, those who believe in them will sometimes act in their names. The central continent, Tamriel, is the place where most of their followers reside. While it is but one part of the world, this is where the most well known historical events have unfolded.
Despite Mundas being but a grain of sand on a beach in comparison to all of creation, the world has gained the attention of many powerful, and sometimes dangerous forces. Time and time again, the tides of shadow and flame found their way to the Mortal Plane, but were always snuffed out. Through the efforts of many of Mundas's mortal races, their world remains intact. Of course, it's not always left in check and unaltered.
From the influence of godlike beings called the Daedric Princes, many events and cults were formed to spread their chaos. While few in number, their power compensates, and their very names hold weight. Each one of them desires something from the Mortal Plane. Some wish to conquer it, to merely meddle with it and it's inhabitance. In two specific cases, the lords of Oblivion wish to perfect it or bathe it in lunacy. Yet most of the time they will not take it upon themselves to cause mayhem personally but will use other means.
In few cases, these dark ones will bless their followers with an assortment of dangerous artifacts. Each one possessing a rare effect and power for its wielders. These relics, known as Daedric Artifacts would go on to corrupt many mortals and any who sought them out, or their makers.
However, among all these weapons and heirlooms there is but one artifact that stands out. One that is not of Oblivion origin, but is actually a relic born of Nirn. Unlike the other cursed objects of the daedra, this ring, the Ebony Ring was forged by the hands of mortals. A group of gifted mages united to pursue power and fame. However, before the abilities of this ring can be explained, the tale of those who made it must be told.
Our story takes place in the year 4E 190 in the Capital of Tamriel, the Imperial city of Cyrodill. It is here that the heart of the empire lies, and the central point where many of histories greatest legends were born. Upon first glance, it's most majestic detail is the White-Gold Tower, a skyscraper that appears to pierce the very heavens.
It is here that three gifted mages will mark themselves in the pages of history, by accomplishing the impossible. The first student of magic is Rhonin Mathys, a young Breton who excels at Alteration magic and Enchanting skills. Bretons are a hybrid race with the blood of both elves and man, who are known to be as gifted in magic as their elven ancestors. However, their Elvin nature is unnoticeable, making it hard to tell at first glance what they are.
Rhonin Mathys has always had an interest in the arcane arts. As a child, he would continuously read and learn what he could about magic. As time went on, his talents began to grow, it became more difficult to hide from his village. Realizing his potential, those few who accepted his nature pushed him to go to Cyrodill so he could adequately learn from the Mages Guild.
Now he stands inside the capital, looking up at the White-Gold Tower in awe, as the very sun appears to loom at its peak. His long brown hair falls into the hood of his blue cloak. He smiles brightly, mesmerized by the heart of the imperial city. Unbeknownst to him, a local stranger approaches from the side.
"A marvelous sight isn't it?" The stranger comments.
Rhonin looks over at the man, witnessing his shared interest in the tower. While doing so, the most noticeable detail is that he is an Imperial.
The Imperials are native to Cyrodill and are the race that makes up the majority of the empire. Typically they are tan in complexion but can also be darker in color. They appear to have a thinner structure and narrow jaw line. The Imperial who stands next to Rhonin looks to be a mage as well, wearing the robes of an adept magic user. His short, dark black hair glimmers in the suns rays.
"The names Arius Silver," the Imperial introduces himself, looking towards the other mage while holding out a welcoming hand.
"Rhonin Mathys," he shakes his hand.
"I didn't mean to startle you, I just can't help but look at the tower from time to time."
"Is this your hometown?"
"No way," Arius Silver answers with a shake of his head. "I just got here a few days ago, I hale from Skyrim, the frozen land of the Nords."
"Truly?" Rhonin asks, leaning his head forward intrigued. "I've never been there, what's it like?"
"It's cold," Arius chuckles, placing one hand on Rhonin's shoulder. "But not in good shape because of the war."
"That's right," Mathys remembers.
Silver shakes his head once more, smiling and patting the mage with his hand.
"It's nothing to fret over, I just don't like politics, so I came here to use my magic for less violent reasons."
"You're a mage as well, have you already joined the Mages Guild?" Rhonin questions.
The two begin to wonder the district, developing an instant connection as they chat. The townsfolk are lively, their cheerful commotion is heard in every corner of the current town square.
"Well I'm not with them yet, but I do have connections that will improve my chances," Arius Silver informs him. "I don't mean to brag but-"
"Of course, I understand," Rhonin sarcastically comments. "If I may ask, what type of magic do you specialize in?"
Arius halts in place, holding his arm out to stop Rhonin. "Want to take a guess?" Silver asks.
He lifts his right palm out in front of them. Purple and white energy manifests around his hand, dancing around his palm in the form of an open fire. With each second it glows brighter and extends outward. With a flash of light, an otherworldly, ethereal sword forms and hardens in his grasp. It's rigged, and fearsome design does not match any standard blade. Rhonin with his eyes wide open in awe stares at the razor sharp weapon.
"Conjuration!" He identifies, pleased with the spell.
"That's right, as well as Restoration," Arius replies, and just as fast as it came, the sword vanishes in the blink of an eye. "I've always had an interest in the powers of oblivion, of course for the right reasons."
"I can imagine the Vigilant of Stendarr doesn't appreciate your taste in magic, huh?" Says Rhonin Mathys jokingly.
"No need to imagine, I've heard it first hand because most of my family are in the vigilant."
Arius breaks out in laughter at the irony. Rhonin, on the other hand, shows slight concern for his new friend.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he expresses when placing a hand on Silvers' shoulder.
Arius's bright grin remains, assuring that he feels no resentment towards his loved ones.
"It's nothing to fret over, families tend to be the most straightforward people," Silver replies.
Their conversation is put on halt when they both simultaneously witness something troubling. The two mages stop in their tracks as they see from the distance two city guards harassing a Dark Elf.
The Dunmer, or most well known as Dark Elves by the rest of Tamriel are a race of elves that hale from the land of Morrowind. As their name suggests, they typically have a darker complexion compared to other mortal races of the earth, sometimes either having grey, or pale blue skin. The most noticeable detail is their blood red eyes. They usually don't trust easily, due to their prideful mindset, but when their allegiance is earned, they are loyal to a fault. Which Silver and Mathys would learn at this moment.
The two slowly approach the imperial soldiers and Dunmer, now being able to hear the conversation. This elf, in particular, had pale blue skin, and the same type of crimson eyes. His hair nearly matched Rhonin's, except he has a single braid on the right side of his head, and a goatee with a twist on his chin.
"I already told you, I'm not here to cause trouble," the Dark Elf says defensively.
"Say what you want Grey Skin," spouts one of the guards. "But how do you expect us to trust your words when your kind worship the Daedra?"
"And how am I to be expected to trust the Empire, when they have butchered countless elves under the name of a dictator?"
The guards find the elves words offensive and both simultaneously place their hands on the handles of their sheathed swords.
"With that kind of attitude, you're just asking to get locked up," one of the guards threatens.
The Dark Elf prepares himself for a possible altercation. With his hand pulled back, a dark blue orb forms in his palm. The Imperials do not take notice of this and have no time to, as Rhonin and Arius intervene.
"Excuse me," Silver calls out.
Both the guards and the Dunmer look towards him.
"May I ask why you are bothering my friend here?" Arius deceitfully questions.
"Your friend?" One of the guards asks.
"That's right," The Imperial points to the Dark Elf as he continues with his false claim. "How dare you show such disrespect to a friend of the Silver family?"
The mention of his family name leaves the guards silent and shaking nervously. Initially, the soldiers stand silently while breaking into a cold sweat, knowing they made a grave mistake.
"Silver?" One of the soldiers repeats.
Rhonin, amused, stands off to the side and watches the acting performance of his new friend. He attempts to hide his quiet laughter with his hand, but his face is too readable. Despite this, the soldiers miss this detail as well.
"That's right," Arius states arrogantly. "So unless you want me to report to the General himself about this, I recommend you be on your way."
The guards turn themselves toward Arius's and make a hasty bow to him.
"Of course," their voices synch together. Once they rise, they turn back to the Dunmer. "Sorry citizen, good day." One of the guards apologizes, while the other tilts his leather helmet head. Finally, the two rush away to avoid upsetting Silver.
Despite the act of kindness from Arius, the Dunmer does not display instant gratitude towards the fellow mage. While Rhonin and Arius grin at what transpired, the elf expresses dissatisfaction.
"I didn't need your help," he tells them arrogantly.
"Ah, of course, I know you didn't," Arius agrees cheerfully. He walks to the side of the Dark Elf, placing his arm around his neck and pulling him close. "In fact, a wise mage like yourself could have dispatched those two leather heads."
"What are you talking about?" The Dark Elf questions.
The latter looks over to Rhonin as he hears a fake cough come from the Breton. To his surprise, Mathys points down at his hand, reminding him that he still holds the magical sphere.
"Any wise mage knows that Illusion is the best, none violent way to escape trouble," Rhonin informs with a smirk.
Arius places himself in between Rhonin and the Dunmer.
"I suppose if we can't get a thank you for our honorable deed, perhaps we can at least get your name?" Silver requests.
The playful, kind tone from the Breton and Imperial makes the Dark Elf smile. He cancels the incantation in his palm and places both hands behind his back.
"Kressmer, Kressmer Midium," he introduces with a subtle bow. "I thank you for your noble intervention, but I get a feeling you want something in return."
Both Rhonin and Arius shake their heads to Midium's assumption. With a shared grin between all of them, the Breton sheds clarity on his and the Imperial's intentions.
"Not at all," he assures him. "We just noticed that you are a mage, and thought perhaps you intend on trying to join the Mages Guild."
"Indeed I am," Kressmer confirms. "But why do you want to know?"
"Well both me, Rhonin Mathys by the way, and Arius Silver here share the same interest. I practice Alteration and Enchanting, while he utilizes Conjuration and Healing." Rhonin approaches Kressmer, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder as he continues. "We saw a fellow mage in distress, and thought no mage should stand alone."
Kressmer Midium nods in appreciation. Mathys removes his hand just as Kressmer informs them of his talents.
"Well, you've seen that I can cast Illusion which is my specialty," he tells them. "but I would say that I am also reasonably skilled at Destruction."
While Rhonin finds interest in his knowledge of the two arts, Arius is left in confusion. With a tilt of his head, he makes an opinionated observation.
"That is strange," he states. "I could have sworn Dunmer typically had superior skill in Destruction?"
"We do," Kressmer confirms. "However, fire, frost, and lightning magic got dull for me, I wanted to see what else I could do. I mostly use that type of magic as self-defense and to scare the wildlife."
"Regardless, those two can be a handy combo. I would like to know more about what you know." All three of them now close to one another, Arius decides to offer a proposal.
"Well we've got plenty of time to pick one another's brains, but I say before we do, let's all get a drink and something to eat." Mathys and Midium look at him enticed by the offer. "After all, we still have until tomorrow to partake in the entry exam, right? Consider the meal on me."
Kressmer chuckles to himself briefly.
"You know what?" He questions, as he walks in between Rhonin and Arius and wraps his arms around both their shoulders. "I think I'm going to like you two."
"You know what?" Rhonin repeats. "I think I can say the same on my part."
"Hear hear!" Arius cheers in excitement. "Tonight we dine like kings, and tomorrow we celebrate as official Wizards of the Mages Guild!"
The three mages make their way to the nearest tavern. On this day, a chain of events has been set into motion, ones that cannot be altered or stopped. What starts as a fast connecting friendship, will soon change into a quest that will put them through a harsh series of choices and tests. How they will endure and take on these trials is has yet to be told, but what is certain, is that one such decision will leave a mark on Tamriels great history. When their journey truly begins, all of Nirn and beyond shall learn of their actions and of what came from them. They will know of their incredible accomplishment, they will know of the Ebony Ring.