It was his purpose and he was bred for it, Tiber, the Imperial chosen to be his father was carefully handpicked, a relative of the Septims, the mother a half-breed of Khajiit and Altmer so that he can relate to those he was the leader of. He had been trained in tactical stratagems and diplomacy, he was not meant to go into battle himself he was meant to guide others through it, the others who were in the program. The program was created in Skyrim, by a mage-scientist who wanted it to replace the existing government, he knew he could not do it better so he made the program to create one who could, as well as those who would place him there.
The scientist went and captured many, many people as potential candidates, people from all walks of life, all races, brought together and captured, all for the cause, his cause. The Scientist went by the name of Camoran, claiming to be a descendant of the Mythic Dawn founder that Tiber had learned much of, mainly for his success in assassinating the emperor, he studied many assassinations in his life, what lead up to them, the methods which were used, and then the hindsight of preventative measures, Camoran did not want his little pet project to end with a petty assassination once it left the gates. Tiber had fough his assassins, Tiber had killed them all. Then it came to be his turn to become one of them, he killed the other potential Emperors, he killed his brothers, sisters, cousins, in the name of his own life and future Empire.
Today was the day Tiber was to meet his elites, the men who would be his main guard, advisers, and the people on the front lines of bringing down the Imperium, this was not an assassination, this was a tearing down and rebuilding of a society. They would be nearly equal to him in rank.
He stood up leaving the very regal throne basked in light, an uncomfortable chair to say the least, but Camoran assured him that he would need to get used to sitting upon a throne such as it. He walked down the long red carpet in the mockery of a throne room which led to the double doors that sealed out the truth of the place, he did not go out these doors often, in fact the last time he had was when he was 14, nearly four years ago. He pushed the doors open, light filling the cave in front of him. Other than the light coming from the now open double doors there was a single candle at the far end of the corridor, "there were two last time," he thought to himself with a chuckle. He was not going that way, he instead turned to the door to the left which Camoran had instructed Tiber to never enter. The instructions Camoran gave him for the day were just the opposite, he was to enter the room, "They" were in there.
He took a deep breath and opened the door, the light flooded through the opening, basking Tiber in an unearthly glow.
Enchanted flames lit the corridor, the brightest being a blue white one hovering above a man intensely reading.
There were seven soldiers, an assortment of man, mer and beastfolk, they were all standing at attention, "Have you been standing like this all day?" many nods, "Well, stand easy! I am far from cracking the whip, a willing soldier is worth 5 unwilling," He walked up to the first one, who stood nearly level to Tiber's impressive height, He had strange eyes, one gold and one red, black hair with a single gold stripe, pointed ears and greyish skin, "Who are you?"
"Yagrum junior, I'm kind of the last of the Dwemer, I'm half, the other half is Daedra, in short, I'm the reason Camoran lost his arm, and owes Yagrum Bagar a cure. I will be making the weapons and armor for these fine creatures, if you can meet someone who makes better weapons than I do, be they man, mer, beastfolk, hell, I don't even care if they're a Daedric lord on their own little plain of Oblivion, I will not stand for it, I will personally infiltrate their facility incapacitate them and use their knowledge and skill to move mine forward, my weapons shall always be sharper, my armor shall always be stronger and my hammer will strike harder!"
Tiber nodded and moved to the next one, taller than Tiber, green-gray complexion, sharp ears and like Yagrum two different colored eyes, one grey and one red, the most conspicuous thing he had was a rather large hammer "And you?"
"Uruk, no other name, half orc, half Daedra, Yagrum and I share a mother, I am very close to my half-brother, let me make this clear now, I will not stand for any mistreatment of him, he made this hammer especially for me, if I believe you are not treating him with the proper respect he deserves I will use it to smash your head, I don't care if you're meant to be the Emperor!" he flared his nostrils.
"Very sorry for my elder brother's cra-" Tiber held up a hand to interrupt him.
"No, it is good, it means you are not at risk, if he will defend you so openly, against even me, there is no chance for the enemy to get you in the first place. You ensure we will have a permanent edge, we cannot lose that," Yagrum closed his mouth and he smiled, a relatively simple ploy, but a good tactical one nevertheless, he was glad to have such a wise leader. The next one was covered in fur but had a large patch of hair on his head that stuck straight up, "How about you?"
"I do not have a name, as I am not meant to, you may simply refer to me as Khaj if you so wish, I am the thief-assassin, I am good at climbing, picking locks and quick kills, I do believe you are the only one who has gone into enough training to be able to avoid getting killed by me, I see the correct muscles in your body ready to act at a moment's notice, but, as for my race I am half bosmer, if you need to get told my other half then you are simply stupid and unworthy of leading us,"
"Very well Khajiit, or rather Khaj, as you wished me to call you," Khaj simply nodded, and allowed his eyes to begin shifting again. Finally he came upon the mage whose face was hidden in shadow caused by the light above his head, he was mildly shorter than Tiber.
"I am reading, Altmer, Breton, name of Psyj, the Psyjic order came for me long ago, I chased them off, that is when I earned my name," he said midst a page turn.
Tiber moved to the next one, female, grayish skin, golden locks falling all about her head, shorter than Tiber, "Heron, orc-redguard, with a bit of Khajiit, enough to keep me light on my feet and give me claws, but without fur covering my face and hands, I am to be one of your two personal bodyguards, the other is next," she indicated the small man next to her.
He smiled timidly and began to speak quietly, "Hello, I am Albert, one quarter Altmer and three quarters Breton, I am a but a simple mage,"
"He who speaks does not know, he who knows does not speak, by that principle, you're better than Psyj over there, which leaves the question of the Psyjic order…"
Psyj closed his book and scowled, "You dare compare me to that lowly Breton?" he spat, readying lightning.
Albert stepped out and opened and closed his hand, Psyj collapsed on the floor. He stepped back in line, "Very sorry to step out without your order sir, I am ready to take whatever punishment you deem necessary for that act of disobedience,"
"No punishment is necessary, you were only doing your job, for all you knew his training could have failed and he would have attacked me," Tiber said to assure him.
"But sir, I did know, I felt the malicious intent in his mind, he was going to kill you and cared not of the consequences," Albert replied, his eyes grew wide, "I am very sorry for my back talk sir!" his voice grew to a high pitch.
Tiber didn't know whether it was his training or how he was naturally, but he had to quell this before it got out of hand, "You have full permanent permission to speak your mind, and may do what you like,"
Truly sir?" Albert asked.
"Yes" Tiber replied with a smile.
"Thank you sir!" he smiled and sat upon the floor breathing a sigh of relief.
He moved on to the final one who was muttering to himself, grey-green with red eyes "Be you mad?"
"Yes, he speaks to me, very sorry, no, no he's not, ok, electric hammer, yes, of course, I follow the example of the great lord Sheogorath, Meroth is name, I heard you correct, Thu'ur, I am orc-Daedra, a natural one, now, my father wishes to continue our conversation," he quieted, still muttering.
"What's his story?" everyone muttered and found something that became suddenly interesting to look at.
"Son of the MadGod, my second job is to note what he says, he is to stay by your side with me and Heron," Albert finally chimed in, "He first came here asking for cheese, I was the one to greet him, I brought him a piece of bread and sorry we did not have cheese, he muttered a bit and the bread turned into a roll of cheese. I listened to his mutterings and determined that he was in fact a disciple of the MadGod, and shortly afterwards I noticed whenever he seemed to be muttering to himself he repeatedly said father, I then put two and two together and discovered he was of course, Sheogorath's son,"
"Hmm, strange Camoran allowed him to join us," Tiber pondered.
"Well, he figured that the worst that could happen would happen without him as Sheogorath could allow us to know the enemies plans in advance, I have often caught Meroth drawing up the battle strategies of long dead generals, at the very least he could be a valuable soldier, and Sheogorath sent him here for a reason, which means either the MadGod will crush us, in which case keeping him out would not help any, or he wishes to help us, which means we should use the tools he has given us,"
"Well, are you recording his current mutterings?" Tiber asked.
"Yes, he has a notebook with him that I enchanted to record everything he says, and every night I cast a spell to transfer from the notebook he has to a record I have, and yes he is aware of it, he complains often and then his father chimes in so I can see it written that he needs to keep it, that the mortals are simple and cannot simply know,"
"How did you know it was Sheogorath?"
"Different handwriting, the spell uses unique handwriting for each individual, and well, it used two different colors of ink, something that does not ordinarily happen," Albert explained.
"Ah well, knew it was someone else and that someone was mucking with the spell, but, why do you think specifically Sheogorath?"
"Sh-Sheogorath is unmistakable, sir" Albert stuttered with a shudder.
"If you cannot explain then show," Tiber ordered.
Albert nodded, "Yes sir, I however, I must warn you of the MadGod,"
"If you can handle it then I do not deserve to lead you if I can't" Tiber replied.
"Very well, sir, I'm sorry," Albert said fishing in his gray robe.
"You are forgive…" he was not able to finish his sentence as Albert opened the book in front of him, and laughter of the MadGod filled his head.