Chapter 1
A Council of Peers
It was an uncomfortable gathering, this table of notables. Each chair was occupied by an individual with an astounding pedigree. In one, having traversed the Jerall Mountains, was Bjorn Ebonsmith, the Harbinger of the Companions, one of Skyrim's finest warriors. To his right, Ogrutto Urgash of Orsinium seemed to be sizing up his neighbors as though they were competitors as oppose to allies. Across the table, High Chancellor Ocato seemed uncomfortable under that Orcish gaze. And next to him sat Sovirya Indaril, the youngest Arch-Mage in the Arcane University's history.
To her left sat a man, cloaked in black, a shadow unto himself, who offered "Peregrinus Tenebris" as his given name. He wore a rather menacing smirk on what could be seen of his face. Undeterred, Barrus, now Captain of the Blades, though only a select few knew that fact, occupied a seat next to him. And of course, this circle would not be complete without the Champion of Cyrodiil (some said the entirety of Tamriel, which was possibly true), Isola Vitelli, wearing her newly forged armor, an honorary member of the Order of the Dragon. Filling out the table were other dignitaries and nobles from the provinces, though, noticeably absent, was any representative from the Summerset Isles. Off in a corner, though, near the Valenwood contingent, there was a rather out of place Altmer; why he was with the Bosmer was something of a mystery. Whose interests he represented was even more mysterious.
And then, there he was, wearing a simple, ill-fitting grey robe that barely covered his knees. Most mistook him for an overgrown Nord; a few as a rather robust Altmer. But his origins, were somewhat more complicated. His mother had been a Nord, hence his fair complexion and dirty blonde hair. But Nord's don't grow to nearly nine feet tall while weighing near 40 stone. But then, most Nord's don't have a Giant as a father.
His Order taught humility and unobtrusiveness, but those tenants were more easily followed by those of ordinary size. He had learned humility, thanks to the Companions, but unobtrusiveness would never be truly possible for him. So he wore the monk's robes as a means of portraying himself as one who sought peace rather than conflict, though he was prepared for either, his armor and weapons never far.
"Sir Jace," Ocato, brought him out of his introspection, "as the Divine Crusader and leader of the Knights of the Nine, would you open us with an invocation?"
"Of course, Chancellor," he responded without too much hesitation. "Let us lift our hearts and minds to the Nine. Arkay, Dibella, Mara, Talos…" he continued with the Pantheon, giving thanks and beseeching wisdom, closing with a special word of gratitude to Akatosh for saving them from the terror of Mehrunes Dagon.
He lifted his head after finishing, glancing around the room, catching the smirk of Peregrinus. He ignored it, knowing—or at least, guessing—of this man's affiliation. That he had influence, there was no doubt. The real mystery was how he obtained an invitation to this gathering. But that was a mystery for the Imperial authorities to solve.
"My lords and ladies, friends, old and new," Ocato began, with a nod toward Sovirya, "I thank you for your presence here, during this, the infancy of the Fourth Era. We've much to discuss, and much to decide. But as a word of caution and to ensure we do not rush to judgment, I must declare that the future of Tamriel will not be decided in one night. So I advise that we be very deliberate in our discussions, addressing each issue with due diligence, and seek to make the best and most informed decision possible."
Murmurs of agreement followed; a few side comments, and a stifled snicker, but the table stayed orderly, for the most part. Jace chose to listen, rather than attempt to direct any discussion. After the battle with Gareth, a battle that had rivaled even the Oblivion Crisis itself, he and the Knights of the Nine were interested in keeping the peace rather than engage in direct conflict. Of course, if needed, they would support the Empire, but the need would have to be dire and the opponent would have to be an enemy of the Nine, not just an Imperial Adversary.
"But warlords are nothing new. They may rule a swath of territory for a season, but they pose no great threat."
"The same was said after Kvatch was destroyed, or need I remind you?"
"You can remind me the next time a Daedric warlord occupies your territory; otherwise, it's a non-issue. The Legion is stretched thin as it is.
"And yet, banditry and marauding have gone up three fold since Martin Septim passed. Who's to say it won't increase further?"
"Is the Fighter's Guild unable to keep up with the new demand? Should we get them to recruit more?"
"The Fighter's Guild was founded to supplement the Imperial Legion and take the excess jobs, not serve as its lap dog or do its job.," Modryn Oreyn entered the conversation.
"Fair point, Modryn. But what of the Holy Orders? Knights of the Circle, the Iron, the Lily? Do they not take part?"
That was his cue.
"The Knights of the Nine, along with their brethren in other holy orders, will, on occasion, unseat a warlord too close to a settlement or make our presence known to run a bandit gang off the road," he paused to scan the room, "but our purpose is to fight the undead, hostile vampires," he glanced at the Count of Skingrad, "and Daedra. So unless your warlord is a rogue Valkynaz or Mannimarco back from the grave or one of Dagoth Ur's relatives, we respectfully and humbly allow and encourage civic authorities to perform their civic duties."
He caught the eye of Sovirya, no doubt for his Mannimarco comment. But he had fought alongside her during the Oblivion Crisis. He was not worried about her opinion of him; nor was she of his opinion of her. He glanced away, not wanting his thoughts to linger too long on the Arch-Mage.
"However," he continued, "when there is a threat to the realm, unholy or mundane—or otherwise—we will of course, serve as needed to protect men and mer. We did not sit idly by while Dremora bands roamed these lands, and we did not sit idly by while Gareth played Emporer. And as Cyrodiil is still reeling from a fault made by our Order—a fault that was, admittedly, mine—we will take part in providing order and security for one year, or until the Legion is back to full strength; whichever comes first."
"And we thank you, for both taking responsibility for your actions and for your willingness to serve time as just recompense," the Chancellor said, smiling warmly.
"Likewise, we too will lend you aid as we are able," Modryn responded in kind. "It is only right that we do so, seeing as a healthy Empire means a healthy Fighter's Guild."
"And the Arcane University is, as it ever was and will continue to be, at your service," Sovirya added.
"Well, I'm glad that Cyrodiil is so well cared for," Lord Ugrash sounded annoyed, "but what of High Rock?"
"And Hammerfell?" said a heavily accented Redguard.
"And Morrowind, of course," voiced a member of House Dres.
"My lords, my lords!" Ocato sought to regain the room, "as stated earlier, we will not solve every problem here tonight. Sir Jace's declaration does not solve all of our problems, even those here at the Capitol," he paused to breathe, "it is merely a start. We've much to discuss. My Lord Ugrash, why don't we begin with the Kingdom of Orsinium, and progress eastward from there…"
The conversation that followed he could best describe as civilly heated. All decorum and proper gesture was observed, but beneath the surface pleasantries was the question that nobody had yet to ask: could there be an Empire without a Septim on the throne? The Altmer standing with Valenwood seemed amused by it all; his smug grin was a bit unsettling.
When they finally adjourned for the evening, the mood in the room was one of frustration. The provinces were seeking Legion aid, but with Gareth's Usurpation following so quickly on the heels of the Oblivion Crisis, there wasn't much of a Legion. Many recruits were in the academy, and scores of city guards had been pressed into service, but most lacked the experience and training to be counted on as actual legionaries.
Perhaps, for the time being, the Holy Orders would have to set aside their desire to stay out of the political realm and at least aid in maintaining peace in their respective regions. He had set the example by offering the Knights of the Nine, though part of his reasoning was penance. Hopefully, the Knights of the Rim and the Lily and the Iron and the newly forming Vigilantes of Stendarr would follow suit.
Much like Oreyn had put it, a healthy Empire meant a healthy Fighter's Guild. It was the same with Holy Orders, Knights of the Nine included. He only hoped his counterparts saw the same.
The fate of Tamriel would not be decided tonight. But the future of the Empire, if it had a future, would determine much in that regard.
