Chapter III: The Harbinger of Reckoning
08:00, Tirdas, 29, Morning Star, 4E 170; Imperial City, Cyrodiil
The Emperor entered the cathedral-like hall, his robes sliding on the polished wood floor behind him, jeweled crown on his splochy, bald head, and he felt weighed down. He was not a true emperor, he knew this fact every waking second of every day. He knew his father was not a true emperor, not his grandfather, or his grandfather's father. Everyone knew the emperors of Tamriel for the past 170 years were only in name, not in blood.
The Septim bloodline is dead. It ended with the assassination of Uriel Septim VII at the start of the Oblivion Crisis. No heir to speak of other than that bastard son who merged with Akatosh to close the Oblivion Gate at the close of the 3rd Era, the new Emperor was chosen by set of challenges not really worthy for an emperor. The unknown figure who helped stop the Oblivion Gate along with Martin had left Tamriel, and had not returned. 170 years later, the current emperor felt he was not the right person to be in power. But everytime he thinks this, he reminds himself that many worse people were out there to take his throne, to throw everything out of balance.
Titus Mede was his name, and he wore it proudly enough to be considered worthy of the throne of Tamriel. Mede knew the time was fast approaching for the fifth Prophetic Elder Scroll to come to pass. The return of the Dragonborn, the return of Alduin, and possible end-of-days. Mede hoped this would come soon, so that the title of Emperor can again be of Dragonblood, as it was in the old days.
Mede felt a draft of cold air on his face as he saw the door to the hall open and many of his advisors coming in from the wintry outside. He saw snow blow inside and the company of honorable men enter his Glorious Hall. At 79, he felt his bones shake, again recalling the fact that he was not of Dragonblood. Shaking this darkened mood off his soul, he made a political smile and acknoledged each one as they sat down at their appropriate place at the Council Table. Once all were settled in, Mede himself sat down at the head, where the throne-like chair looked as if it were made by Dwarves.
"My friends," the Emperor started, his head looking at his end of the table as if something fascinating were there. "We begin this day with dark thoughts and worried faces." he looked up at his Council, seeing there the fear that permeated each and every one of their faces. He knew this fear, for he felt it himself. He stood up to hide this fear. "We must keep hope that however mysterious this 'Shadow' force is, they may not be nearly as powerful as us." he circled to the back of his chair, and placed his hands on the top frame, "We can defend ourselves, not because we know of this threat, not because they are weaker than us, but because we have something to fight for. Civilization." he looked into the eyes of each of his Council, and smiled inwardly as he saw their fear dissapate. "For the Empire!" he stated.
"FOR THE EMPIRE!" his Council repeated in chant.
"Talos guide us!" Mede responded to his Council.
"TALOS GUIDE US ALL!" again the Council chanted.
Mede smiled outwardly, and sat down. The Imperial Council was now ready to talk without fear of recent events coddling their minds. He motioned to the man on his left, and asked, "Report on Hammerfall?"
Then man started his report, "Well, sir, no contact could be made with any couriers along the route to _, and the embassies are not calling to their seeing-stone..."
Death was near. The elve could sense it. He would soon be in his House of Life, given to him by the True Gods. The Shadow had found it, a secret tunnel under the prisons of Imperial City. The elve, by the name of Gar'el, slipped by skeletons and skeevers, finding his way into a prison cell. He found an occupant in that cell, and killed him. It was obvious the man did not follow the path, and a prisoner is not worthy to be a slave, so stabbing the guy in the neck and nearly severing the head of said guy was not a waste of Gar'el's time. Gar'el used 2 lockpicks to open the door to the main corridor, and used a potion of invisibility to slip past the guards. He found his way into the exterior of the Glorious Proceedings, and silently scaled the wall using hands and feet.
Gar'el was proud to give his people this final step before the cleansing of the world, the Harbinger of Reckoning, the title was given to him right before sending him here. Gar'el remembered the day he received this highest of honor. It had been the day after the Subversion of the Provinces. He himself had lead the team to take Dragonskin of Hammerfall. He remembered the Redguard Girl, who shouted defiantly in the face of her death to "Do your worst". He smiled, and gave a small amount of respect to the blasphemous girl. She showed courage in the face of her death, whereas her partner died never knowing he would die.
The Harbinger could feel the effects of the invisibility potion wearing off, and knew he had little time. Gar'el vaulted himself over the last stonework of wall, and quickly entered a guardhouse. He rummaged though the various chests and shelves, hoping to find another useful potion. He came with only one because he wanted to challenge himself. There was no use in attaining eternal glory if it came too easy. Finding a potion of stealth, he sighed, for a second wishing the Imperials were more attuned to the arts of potion-making. He drank the potion, and felt himself become like shadow, which was very appropriate for what the people of Tamriel were calling them. Shadows. Shadows in the Dark.
Skulking downstairs into the halls connected to the Glorious Hall, Gar'el found it challenging to find spaces to hide in as extreme security meant patrols everywhere at everytime. Through patience and persistence, the Harbinger found his way into the Glorious Hall, and watched as his target was so close.
Emperor Titus Mede, all dressed up for the occassion, was hearing the various reports of the statuses of the Tamriel Provinces. The Emperor seemed to radiate a sense of power and authority, which gave confidence into the Council around him. Gar'el was impressed that the man, without Dragonblood, was able to command with such... integrity.
The Harbinger of Reckoning prayed to the True Gods and whispered, "Those who do not follow the Path are bound to eternal damnation."
Gar'el then screamed a war cry at the top his lungs and sprinted towards Mede, bloodied dagger held high. One of the Emperor's protectors, a Blade they were called, was always ready for an attack on the Emperor, and shot Gar'el in his tracks. Gar'el lost his dagger, it being thrown into the air as he himself fell down, his body in shock at being shot in the chest.
The Blade was a woman, who ran over to Gar'el as the Council and their Emperor stood up in alarmed shock at the sight of the bleeding elve. The dagger had fallen on the floor just meters from the Emperor, and Mede took one look at it and fear stabbed his heart as if that same dagger had punctured through his hidden armor underneath his robes. The Council gathered around Gar'el, who lay on his back, tannish-green blood pulsing from the wound made by the Bladewoman's arrow.
The Bladewoman yelled at him, "Who are you, and why in the name of Talos should I let you live after what you tried to do?" she readied another arrow aimed at him, but Gar'el was not going to say anything else than was necessary. That was the plan. To die in the Glorious Hall surrounded by the leaders of the infidels, to give them the message passed on to him by his masters.
The Shadow spoke, rasping through each breath since the arrow punched through his rib cage and into his right lung. "I... am the Harbinger... of Reckoning. ...Your Judgement... is at hand!" Quickly, he grabbed the arrow sticking out of his stained tunic, and ripped it out. He intended to kill the Emperor of Tamiel after all this.
The Bladewoman shot him again, this time in the neck. At point-blank, the arrow punctured the soft layers of skin and through the esophagus, killing him once it severed the spinal cord. He found death. It is not known whether he found life afterwards.
Emperor Titus Mede looked at the dagger near the Council Table, then back at the dead Harbinger. He told his Council to leave for a moment, then looked at the company of Blades, sworn to his service. "Find out everything you can about this elve." he looked to Delphine, the one who shot Gar'el, and said, "You take that dagger to Barston's Unique Goods, shopowner should know where it came from."
The Blades started examining Gar'el, and young Delphine picked up the dagger and put it in her satchel. "Here," one of the other Blades called to Delphine, holding the sheath that Gar'el kept the elegantly shaped dagger to her. She took it, glad to not rip a hole in her satchel, said thanks, then headed out the Glorious Hall into Imperial City, where she went towards Barston's Goods.
Mede looked at Gar'el one last time and muttered a prayer to the Nine, then said to himself, "This is only beginning."
I am deeply sorry for those of you who hate long paragraphs with nothing but descriptions or things that are going on, but that is sometimes how I write, and many people consider it professional.
R&R please!
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