Seven Saviors of Cyrodiil
Hey everyone, welcome back to another hopefully enticing chapter in the series. I left my character list and story plan at my dorm at school, so I won't be back there for another week. Therefore, until then, most updates will build on the five characters we've already met. I also have a fondness for adding various mods into my Oblivon game on my pc just to spice it up a bit. I will usually cite the mod for those interested by giving you the name and stating that it isn't mine. I doubt I could mod any more than dying a pewter cup gold, lol, so I don't do mods, I just use them. So don't be surprised if stuff happens that can't really happen in the game in its normal version, it's just me adding a mod's story into the game. Onward, then…
Chapter 4:
Something was wrong.
This is what Gerich knew by instinct after they passed through Skingrad and continued on toward Kvatch. There was a ionized tang in the air that made his arm hair stand on end. A palpable feeling of dread accompanied the eastward breezes that passed over the three adventurers. The three jumped when a massive amount of deer fled down the road toward them. Even normally hostile wild wolves that roamed the Colovian plains and highlands ignored the adventurers, fleeing with tails tucked between their legs. These were the first signs. The second sign that something was wrong was the fact that less than twelve villagers, coated in soot and wounds, waited grimly in a hastily assembled camp at the bottom of the road up to the city of Kvatch. As they approached, a panicky High Elf came sprinting up.
"C'mon! Run while there's still time!" he shouted hastily.
Gerich, Adanrael, and Loryn stood there and stared at the elf until Loryn broke the silence: "What happened?"
The high elf looked at her like she was a complete nutcase, then shook himself.
"Gods' Blood, you don't know, do you? DAEDRA overran Kvatch last night!"
"How did you escape?" Gerich asked, suddenly grim, drawing his bow and looking around warily.
"Something crawled over the walls and suddenly, everything was on fire. I followed the few guards that cut a path through the attackers out of the city. I ran into the woods and hid overnight. Captain Matius says they can hold them off…. No, NO! I DON'T BELIEVE HIM! IF YOU'D SEEN IT, YOU'D KNOW! I'm getting out of here before it's too late, you would be wise to do the same." And with that, the panicked elf sprinted off toward Anvil.
"At that speed, he'll make it to Anvil in five minutes," Loryn said, trying to ease the crushing fear of the coming storm.
They started up the hill, checking their weapons and gear as they went. They went past a priest, who was kneeling on the ground in defeat, crying out about the breaking of the Covenant and the Enemy being victorious, lamenting the abandonment of the Gods' protection. As they neared the top, the sky turned black and red, like blood and ink flowing together. The sun was completely drowned out. Stars cluttered the sky, but they seemed like distant candle lights, unable to pierce through the orange clouds and blood sky. Lightning flashed as they saw a massive fiery portal, expelling fireballs up into the air. Three haggard-looking guards stood behind a barricade of sharpened logs, two of the guards firing arrows at any daedra that emerged from the portal while the third directed their attention to the foes. As they approached, the third guard approached them, looking worn and furious at the same time.
"This is no place for civilians, get back to the encampment!" he snarled, more in exasperation at the situation rather than anger at them. Loryn bristled, ready to open up on the harassed guard, but Gerich broke in first.
"What happened?" he asked.
"We lost the damned city, THAT'S what happened!" the guard cried out in frustration. Gerich reached out and clasped the man's upper arm comfortingly.
"Please, sir, we've come to help," Gerich said, accompanied by the nods of Adanrael and Loryn.
"I'm Savlian Matius, captain of the Kvatch City Guard. Or what's left of it now. I sent men into that portal, seven of my best, and none have returned. What makes you think you can help?"
Gerich's reply was cut short when the high elf guard, Merandil by name, cried out in fear: "Daedroth!"
A massive beast lumbered out of the portal, shaking its head angrily and growling. It was a creature out of nightmares, a beast that walked upright like a sentient being, but was as massive as three Nordic warriors put together, with a crocodilian head. Adanrael leapt over the barricade, flipping a silver dagger out of her boot as she hurdled the barricade. Loryn drew her silver battleaxe and followed behind, as Gerich quickly drew the steel bow given to him by Jauffre, wishing he had a silver bow and silver arrows as he eyed the beast, trusting his friends to land the first blows. Adanrael leapt up into the air, clearing the daedroth's slicing claws and slashing a furrow down the beast's head between its eyes. As the creature roared in pain, Loryn ran up, doing a spinning jump to build momentum and slamming the axe deep into the belly of the beast, losing her grip on the weapon as it stuck fast in the creature's scales. She drew her steel war axe and chopped down on the tail of the creature. As the creature roared in pain, Gerich saw his opening and let fly, his arrow flying into the open mouth of the creature and punching out the back of its head, penetrating the creature's spinal cord and ending its life quickly. The creature slumped and Loryn went to retrieve her beloved axe, as Adanrael wiped her bloodied dagger off on the fur of a few scamps that had followed the daedroth out. Gerich lowered his bow to his side with a small puff of breath escaping him as he grinned at the captain.
"No worries, sir, I think we can handle it."
They entered the swirling portal hesitantly, and as Gerich passed through it, whispers started echoing in his head.
"Close shut the jaws of Oblivion" the voice of the Emperor ordered.
"Stranger, you chose a bad day to involve yourself with the Septims" said the voice of the assassin who had slain the emperor and then attacked him, only to be slain by Baurus.
Voices swirled in his head, and he closed his eyes, smelling nothing but smoke and fire. He opened up his eyes and immediately started praying to the Nine for forgiveness, for surely he had just died somehow and gone to hell. Lava spouted into the air and the landscape was all red and black. The portal teleported them to an island, but he would hardly call this island any sort of 'Paradise'. The island was surrounded by a sea of lava, which put an end to any ideas of a swim. He was snapped out of his dread-inspired daze by Adanrael, who held a hand to his cheek, gazing at him with concern. He shook himself, then covered her hand with his own, smiling down at her with a reassurance he wasn't sure he himself had. She gave him a quick hug, and then pulled out her ebony dagger, the Blade of Woe, as she noticed scamps closing in. Loryn pointed out that they weren't the only mortals on this nightmare plain when she shouted.
"Look, a guard of Kvatch!"
Gerich drew his bow and then began firing as quickly as he could, while Adanrael and Loryn slashed and chopped their way through the few scamps that were out here. Gerich saw the guard fighting a demonic-looking humanoid with a wicked-looking mace and a shield. The guard slashed with his steel longsword, was repelled, and blocked the mace with his own shield, angling it so that the mace didn't directly hit, but glanced off of the shield and slid past, reducing possible damage to it. Gerich aimed carefully, and let an arrow fly. It flew straight and true into the neck of the demon warrior, sliding between its massive helmet and its cuirass. The force of the arrow sent the demon into a short flight to the ground, where the guard stabbed down into its neck, finishing it if it wasn't already dead. The guard ran up to them.
"By the Nine, I didn't expect to see another friendly face! The others, they were… taken to the tower," the guard panted.
Gerich held up a hand to halt the guard.
"Calm down my friend, take a breath and explain."
The guard relaxed, lowering his sword and taking more even breaths.
"Captain Matius sent us in to see if we could close the gate! He figured there must be a way, since the other gates used in the attack were closed. We were ambushed as we attempted to cross that bridge. The doors closed shut on the first four men, and they were slaughtered by daedra that came In the opposite doors. Two more of my comrades attempted to flee, and were slain by fire from the scamps. They took our commander to the tower! I'm getting out of here!"
"Fine, Captain Matius needs your help outside the gate," Gerich said, pointing behind them to the fiery portal home. He longed to use that portal himself, but they had work to do.
"The Captain still holds the barricade? I will report to him immediately. Best of luck to you, friends!"
And with that, Ilend Vonius fled outside. The trio battled their way across the fiery island to the large Sigil Tower. During the peaceful moments, they would bond with each other in discussions about random things, keeping their spirits high in the fearsome dimension they found themselves in. At one point, Gerich was firing his arrows at the objects in the ground they had discovered were hovering landmines, while Loryn and Adanrael looked on and discussed things.
"So, 'Rael, does your organization really have no connection with who killed the Emperor? Does Sithis have any connection to Oblivion?" Loryn asked Adanrael as they watched mine after mine explode, one sending a scamp pinwheeling into the sky with a screech, flailing comically.
"I wouldn't know how to answer that, honestly, Loryn. In truth, I have no concept of what Sithis is. He's described as a void, but he's neither Daedra nor Aedra. He just sort of exists, apparently, and has great power. I keep thinking he's something like the King of Worms, perhaps? Or maybe even a self-created deity like the Tribunal in Morrowind? I have no idea. But I honestly don't follow into his cult with that Night Mother stuff much, either. I'm a follower of Dibella, in truth." Adanrael said, smiling as Gerich dove away from a mine with a yelp as it pinwheeled up, armed and ready to explode.
Loryn ducked as a fireball from the mine flew at her face, continuing the conversation.
"Oh, so you love to love, eh? Is that why you joined that following? The goddess of love is very popular with us young single ladies, eh?" She said with a smile and a wink.
"Honestly, I joined them to fill the void of a lack thereof," Adanrael replied sadly, "And since I joined, I've run headlong into the loving arms of a kind, caring man."
Loryn smiled at her.
"You've also found some friends now, too. Jauffre likes you, despite that little dinner misunderstanding. I think you're pretty swell, too. We should tag team in the Arena, sometime. Though I'll have to make you use a blunt weapon. I only beat my foe into unconsciousness."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Adanrael said, smiling and resting a hand on the shoulder of her newest friend. Looking at her lover as he returned and looking at her new, boisterous Nord companion, she felt a tingling warmth that felt wonderfully different from the fiery heat of their hellish surroundings. It gave her hope for their futures, and they moved forward across the island. They fought their way up to the third floor of the Sigil Keep, before they encountered a series of locked doors.
"Seriously? Honestly, who would bother locking a bunch of organic doors?" Loryn said, annoyed at the idea. She moved to kick in the door, and it hardened to obsidian before their eyes right as her foot connected with it.
"YEOWCH!" Loryn hollered, as she hopped around on one foot and let loose a stream of obscenities that would make a mead hall leader blush. They proceeded across a bridge outside the only unlocked door to another tower. As they entered, they heard a yell.
"Over here! Quickly!"
They raced up the ramp around the center of the tower, and reached the top, where a fierce-looking dremora waited, a glittering obsidian sword in one hand, and a matching mace in the other. A man stood in a cage, looking the worse for wear.
"You should not be here, mortals…. Your blood… is FORFEIT! YOUR FLESH IS MINE!" the dremora screamed in awkward Cyrilic. He then bull-rushed Gerich and slammed him into a wall, turning around and swinging his mace at a truly angered Adanrael, and using his sword to redirect blows from Loryn. Gerich drew his steel shortsword and ended the dremora's amazing skill show by slitting his throat from behind. He shrugged at the other two as they stared on.
"Hey, even archers know how to get their hands dirty when things get up close and personal," he said, cleaning the sword on his leather jerkin. He then hefted the dremora longsword in one hand, feeling it's weight.
"Mind if I take this, ladies?" he asked his friends. They shook their heads. The man in the cage cleared his throat. Looking sheepish, Loryn walked over to talk to him.
"Quickly, you must take the keeper's key and get to the top of the Sigil Tower! Don't worry about me, go!" the man said hastily, then collapsed in a faint. Loryn bashed the cage open with the dremora mace and hefted the man over her shoulder easily. They crossed back to the sigil keep, and continued up the stairs, fighting the daedra that desperately tried to keep the warriors away from the sigil stone. They reached the top, and stood staring at their prize: the sigil stone flared in the bright beam of fiery light. Gerich reached out and took it, and the world ended… or so it seemed.
-+-
Meanwhile back at Weynon Priory, Makar and Ralas put together all of their gear, mending and repairing it with the help of Brother Piner and Eronor the shepherd. They were given the offer to return to Weynon Priory and stay there for a while if they so desired. They accepted, and then set out back down the hill to Fort Caratacas. As they entered, Makar and Ralas noticed one thing right away: the torches were all lit. Vampires wouldn't light this many torches to see in the dark, because they already had the Hunter's Sight. As they listened, they heard fighting deeper into the fort, along with random battlecries.
"For Lord Dagon!" came one female voice.
"I will drink you dry!" another voice hissed.
As the mage and monk descended down into the fort, scooping up piles of ash, both old and fresh, the fighting faded away and stopped, and it was quiet.
"Who do you think won?" Makar asked quietly, looking around with an arrow notched to his bowstring.
"I don't know, but if my hunch is correct, we don't want to meet anyone from either side," Ralas said, hands ready to throw a spell at anything that showed its face.
They walked down another set of stairs, but Makar tripped and fell down the stairs, his foot catching on something soft. He landed at the bottom, where he almost fell on a still-lit torch rolling along the ground. He let out a few strings of curses as Ralas chuckled.
"Hardly the mouth of a monk, my friend," he teased.
"I'm a monk studying arts of combat, I'm not obliged to keep clean language," Makar said, sitting up and grinning at his friend's joke.
Ralas sobered up as he looked at where Makar had tripped.
"Bring that torch up here, my friend," Ralas said quietly, "We may have more problems than we realize, and magical light is too bright."
Makar obliged and brought the torch up the stairs to where Ralas stood. Three bodies in red robes and hoods lay strewn down the stairs.
"Red robes, so they're not necromancers, or conjurers. Are they friends of yours?" Makar asked.
Ralas bent down and snatched a clasp from a robe on a dead man.
"No. In fact, they are exactly who I thought they were. They are the-"
Ralas was cut off as a Dark Elf in a red robe came striding up the stairs.
"Ah, Ralas, my friend, we seem to be making a habit of crossing paths while I am… working," the elf said as Ralas drew his sword and glared at him.
"You dastardly traitor, I'll kill you now!" Ralas shouted, and took a threatening step toward the red-clad elf.
"And as with every time we meet, you always have such hostile intentions," the elf said, snapping his fingers.
All around Ralas and Makar, showers of red and yellow sparks went up, and figures clad in summoned daedric light armor stepped out of the shadows, holding daedric weaponry. Makar aimed at each one individually, trying to calculate their odds .
"And I shouldn't go unintroduced to your friend here. I am Harrow, warden of the sanctuary of the Mythic Dawn. You don't know who we are, as our accomplishments haven't gone public yet. But you will soon learn to fear us, for we serve a great power that will bring you to your knees!"
Makar cut off any more of the rant.
"Look, that's nice and all, but Ralas, do you remember what happened to the town of Hackdirt?"
The soldiers around them looked at the monk curiously.
"Why, my friend, do you want to know?" Ralas asked knowingly.
"I don't know, just a little curious is all, said Makar, pulling out a handful of glass phials inside his robe but keeping them concealed.
"What are you doing?" Harrow cried out nervously.
"Why, my friend…. It BURNED TO THE GROUND!" Ralas shouted, and Makar smashed the phials all over the ground in front of them as Ralas let loose a stream of fire, lighting the spreading oil alight. As the cultists yelled and ran around in confusion, some on fire, some not, Ralas watched Harrow teleport away before turning and slaying the cultist in his way. Makar followed suit.
"You know, I just want ONE DAY when we can calmly stroll out of a dungeon. That would be very nice," Makar said to his friend with a grin. He then turned and shot two cultists following him up the stairs as Ralas fired a steady stream of lightning back down the stairs they had come from. The rest of the cultists pursued them up to the top, where Makar and Ralas hid to either side of the staircase. The cultists rushed past, and triggered a swinging mace trap Ralas had rigged just in case. They then mopped up the survivors and ran, hearing vampires scream in rage as they attempted to pursue the surviving prey. They heard the screams of the cultists left behind and shuddered, not wanting to share their fate. They then returned to the Priory.
Piner was sitting at a table, still writing to his mother, when they walked in, and looked up to welcome them back when he saw their faces.
"Trouble?" he asked them, concerned.
"Quite possibly, can you show us to Jauffre?"
Piner led them upstairs to Jauffre's study, where Ralas promptly dropped the clasp from the robed men on Jauffre's desk.
"Jauffre, we went back to Caratacas to recover the vampire ashes, and we discovered the presence of Daedric cultists in the catacombs. They were cleaning out the vampire presence. My hunch is that they were attempting to establish a base in striking distance of Chorrol," Ralas said, handing Jauffre the clasp. Jauffre immediately picked up the damaged clasp on his desk and held it next to the mostly undamaged
clasp. They were one and the same, except for the massive damage dealt to the first clasp from the Blades under the Imperial City.
"By the Nine! Those assassins are trying to retake the-" he paused, looking at both Ralas and Makar.
"Forgive me, my friends, but I cannot tell you everything. Just suffice it to say that Chorrol is NOT their target. They intend to strike here, I am sure. But when, is unknown…"
Ralas and Makar exchanged looks. Had they just wandered into something huge?
hey readers, I've decided that to better aid you in determining what section is about who, I'm going to start adding location notes before each section. This helps close out a section better, since doesn't show any of my other attempts at section separations. Also, I want to apologize for the long wait for my chapters… life gets busier than anyone expects. I hope most of my readers will return. Next chapter, I think I'll skip 'Breaking the Siege of Kvatch' next chapter, only to keep the flow going. For you fans of that particular quest, fear not. It will all eventually come through in flashbacks. See you next chapter… reviews please!