The Arboretum was a large area with plants and statues. It was a nice place to take a walk, and for the occasional artist to sketch a flower or two. Normally it was home to only a few people, but that wasn't the case today. Indeed, the uncharacteristically large crowd that had descended upon the area was amazing. The mass of bodies milling about the area made the locality unbearably hot, which was made worse under the hot summer sun. There was a loud sound that penetrated the area- a cacophony of hundreds of voices all speaking at once. For Habasi, it was murder to her sensitive ears. She had worked her way into a corner where two walls met to gain some solace from the noise, but it was to no avail. Yet she didn't leave.

No one was going to leave. That obvious fact dawned on Hieronymus Lex as he stood upon the large platform that had been constructed in the area. It was a temporary structure that would resemble more of a scaffold than a stately podium if various fabrics didn't cover it up. The platform had room for more than one person, and he stood alongside many of the other great legionaries and guardsmen that had came to the city. To his left was Giovanni Civello, and some ways down the line Erasmus Servius stood at attention. The other guard captains were present as well, along with other generals from the provinces. There was even a member of the Order of the Imperial Dragon about. Of course, Lex knew that all these soldiers were merely decoration. The man of the hour was Regent Ocato, who stood in the very middle of the platform. Lex could discern that the Altmer was sweating, but he assumed it was from the damnedable heat. Besides, it wasn't proper for him to survey the battlemage at this time.

Maro Rufus had not paid attention to any of the soldiers though, as he was looking for Varnado. He had half a mind to look for Lady Flyte, but even he realized that he wouldn't be able to access the Noble's Box, which was also constructed solely for this event. He had milled about the mass of people for a good half an hour, and he hadn't seen his friend at all. But then again, it would be hard to find a troll in this crowd, let alone a Redguard. Yet Maro wasn't too keen on giving up any sort of search, and probably would have gone on for another hour or two if he didn't hear a deafening blast of horns which silenced the crowd.

Everyone turned their attention to the center platform where the noise originated to look at Ocato. The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was unnerving to Lex who stood near the regent. The attention of thousands of eyes, the dead silence that had replaced the chaotic buzz, the oppressive heat… It made the captain nervous, and he wasn't even the one to speak. He noticed Civello take a few steps forward and unroll a large scroll he held in one hand, "By the laws of the Empire and the grace of the Nine, I hereby present Regent Ocato of the most ancient and respected Elder Council."

His voice pierced the silence like an arrow, and when he had finished the lack of noise in the Arboretum was even more evident. Civello bowed and walked back a few steps to take his place alongside Ocato. The Altmer took a deep breath in and looked about the mass of people that had appeared.

"People of the Empire…" he began, his normally commanding voice shaking very slightly, "I stand before you on this stand as I always have. Not as a battlemage, nor as a despot, nor as councilman but as a citizen serving his civic duties. Yes, it is the spirit of all Imperial subjects- an essence that is instilled in their very being- to serve out these civic duties honestly and dispassionately. To do just that is the promise I had made in the past, during my previous addresses, and I have stayed true to it. And that is why I have come to you all today, during Sun's Rest. To discuss this most grave of duties that had fallen upon me."

"Selecting a new emperor is the most important of any duties that could ever fall upon a councilman. I need not remind you all the very unique circumstances that are present. The emperor had no heir, and no living family. The distant relatives are either dead or unfit to rule. So for the first time in many, many years a new lineage must be founded. The first thing that should be evident to anyone is that such a decision- a decision that will affect the future and direction of every single soul on Tamriel, is one that has to be weighed time and time again. It is not something that should be made quickly, nor without a heavy amount of debate and thought…"


Helseth Hlaalu, king of Morrowind, stood in his palace and looked over the colossal city of Almalexia. Normally he took great pride in the fact that it was his city, however, today it was his name only. Indeed, today the Redoran and the Indoril decided it was their day to strike.

Ungrateful worms. He had appeased all of the little, carping demands. He had reestablished slavery, as they had demanded. He had also muscled the other Hlaalu into letting go of some of the Ebony and Glass mines. Breaking that monopoly didn't make the rest of the House very happy. He had publicly and vocally called for more cooperation between the Great Houses, which was a political taboo. And yet despite it all the other Houses still had the gall to revolt against Imperial rule, namely his own.

"Puppet King". "Bretmer". "Patricider". Those were a few the many reasons that the militias had justified their impudence and treason. Helseth had to admit it was partially his fault. He thought that they were merely exhausted farmers with ruined harvests, ready to assemble but not to actually march. To waste his resources to appease the proles wasn't something he immediately thought was a good idea. After all, "The power is with the Houses" had become a proverb in Morrowind. And at first it did not seem like he was very wrong. The small militias grew into a half-serious army. That is itself was of no concern to Helseth. He had the full backing of the legions, after all. The 'battle' of the West Gash was a massive victory for Commander Darius, as his opponents broke and scattered at the first sign of danger. Other small detachments went about to close down tradehouses and cornerclubs that could become rebellious. A month ago it seemed like the militias were a joke at best, and the king turned his attention back into the political sphere. Then there was the recall.

The Redoran and Indoril both started to quietly muster forces. The Dres started to pour in financial support from their massive plantations for the great dream of independence. But it was a very subtle effort, not one that was taken too seriously at the time. Then, roughly three weeks ago, a campaign so well orchestrated came into effect that it left Helseth speechless. The Temple had used their priests to rally the people into a state of near frenzy in the smaller towns, and the political clubs gave virulent speeches against the king. It wasn't long before public opinion, which was anti-Imperial and anti-Helseth to begin with, to be nearly unanimously against outlander occupation. Even his own Hlaalu turned on him, the dogs. They had apparently forgotten that it was the Empire that kept them from annihilation all those years back.

But this was not like all those years back. This time, there would be no Vivec to convince the rabid Dunmer to give into Imperial demands. This time there was no charismatic emperor to lead Imperial forces to victory. And this time the Dunmer would have the benefits of generations of knowledge of the Empire, and the best ways to strike it. That was probably why they were able to muster an army up so quickly. Helseth would even bet that those self-righteous Redoran were plotting this before the recall.

Currently, the biggest threat was the United Morrowind Army. It consisted of Indoril Ordinators, Redoran troopers battle-hardened from the Oblivion crisis, insect mounted warriors of the Dres, and even a few Telvanni mages. It came together quickly and won all of the initial battles it faced. It was now marching south, to Mournhold, with only a single legion to stand it it's way.

Today the fighting in the city was small, nothing that the guard couldn't sweep up. Helseth was no fool- he had quickly drawn troops from secure areas to reinforce his capital. The sorry brigands could be called disgruntled citizens at worst. However, it was more symbolically painful than anything else. Helseth's grasp, which used to stifle all opposition, was loosening. Damnedable free speech. He always knew that would be the single most dangerous thing to his rule.

Helseth reflected upon it. All these things were cold, solid facts. And yet something still didn't add up. The Dres didn't have the funds to rally such a powerful force alone. It couldn't have possibly been one of the other houses or organizations. There was something important that he was missing, some factor that was still clandestine. The fact that the scenario wasn't totally solved was a source of much frustration for the king.

And there he was now. Helseth was draped in his royal robes, and looked over the small mobs that wormed their way about Almalexia and the Temple district with a stoic face. The only thing that gave away his nervousness was the way he twirled about the dagger he held in his hand. Behind him he heard the heavy armor of a guard walk towards him and kneel. "Delitian, report," he said in a calm voice, not bothering to turn around.

"… My liege," the voice from behind him began, "We have now totally secured the palace, and have the other three districts in Mournhold under control, excluding the Temple."

Helseth was quiet for several moments, his eyes darting around the city as he contemplated the situation he was in. "What capacity are the guards and legions at?"

"The Royal Guards can fight at full strength, but one of the legionary cohorts have buckled."

Helseth breathed in deeply as he looked about the small battles going about the city. "But all of this doesn't matter if the XXth can not hold off the joint enemy armies, correct? We have no means to defeat that sort of force."

"They would have to besiege the inner wall of Mournhold in a worst case scenario, sir. If so we can hold out for… Two weeks, I'd assume, before they would penetrate. And it is still a two days march here, if they win."

Helseth made an expression halfway between a grimace and a grin. "If they win," he repeated.

The two stood quietly for several moments, the only noise breaking the silence being a muted spell from out somewhere in the city. Helseth kept spinning the dagger in his hands while he made his judgement on the situation. "… We're going to lose this, most likely. Those… plebians are going to take my city when that army arrives."

The guard said nothing. Helseth bit his lower lip, showing externally his frustration. "Damn this. I should've seen all of this coming. I can't believe I let this happen," he muttered.

Delitian said nothing, and Helseth turned to face him. "We probably should have hired new trainers for that goblin army, eh?"

There was a moment of silence before Helseth turned once more to face the city. "It was a joke, Delitian," he said coldly, "You can laugh."

The guard did not laugh. "Your orders, sire?"

Helseth stopped twirling his dagger and gripped it firmly. "Very well. First, have been able to get a guild guide inside the grounds yet?"

"I guarantee that one will be available very soon. It's been difficult to negotiate with the Guild to procure one with all the rioting on the streets."

The king's face darkened. 'Leave it to a mage,' he thought to himself, 'To fritter in fear while their king is in danger. See if I ever sponsor them again'.

"We need that guild guide. When we get one, my mother and I will work our way west, to Cyrodiil. That is my sole concern at the moment. But I assume you want to know what I intend to do with you, the guards, am I right?"

Helseth turned his head to the kneeling man behind him. "Sire, I would gladly lay down my life in your defense."

"No," the Dunmer replied with a sigh, "You've been loyal to me for enough years that I trust you. You'll come with mother and me. But I can't say the same for the guards. I want this palace to be defended to the last man, you understand? The very last man. I'll be damned before some craftsman sits on my throne."

Delitian was silent for some moments. "… Very well, King Helseth. I shall give the word that the palace will be defended to the very end."

He stood, saluted, and left. The man walked quickly, but with a heavy air about him. Helseth couldn't blame him. His comrades were as good as dead when the army of Morrowind got to the city. But, in the end, they were his guards and it was their duty to fight until the end.

Helseth looked back to the city. Out there he could see a legionary cohort routing a squabble of rebels who were totally unprepared to fight against the strength and discipline of the Imperial Legion. The king allowed himself another smirk. If this kept up they may very well get a mage in the grounds. That was the goal after all. If he could get east he could rally his own army and reclaim his crown. And then it would be all as it should be.

Helseth began to twirl his dagger in his hand again.


"… And to those in the rebellious east, I say this to you! The Empire shall not tolerate your impudence and perfidy. The legacy of peace that the Empire has left upon Tamriel creates a massive debt that not one of us could possibly repay. And any man, be him a serf or a prince, who disrupts this miraculous peace shall feel the crushing hammer of Imperial justice brought down upon him! But you, the good, honest, and hard working subjects, know that your contained loyalty is the lifeblood of our Empire."

In the crowd, Maro frowned slightly. This speech was boring. And they hadn't even mentioned the new Emperor. Looking about him, he figured that the other citizens had the same idea. The heat was making more than a few patiences become tense, especially on the so-far empty words of Ocato.

"Indeed, remember the words of our blessed Saint Gaius- 'The most heavenly and divine virtue is loyalty. Loyalty is what separates chaos and order, construction from decay, and prosperity from catastrophe. Without loyalty, a people are doomed to die in obscurity…'"


"And then my husband tried to dance with me! Oh, I do love him so, but his talents do not involve dancing!"

The Countess Umbranox gave a melodic laugh. The Count drummed his fingers on his odd, exotic chair he had been given to sit in with one hand and reaching for a fig with the other. He had heard the story of his marriage been told by his wife during every single diplomatic assignment he had ever been on. It had come to the point where he didn't even feel embarrassed anymore and merely looked idly about the room he was in. It was certainly something an elf would build- large and gaudy. The roof was so high above his head he knew the architecture had to be supported by magic, as must be the slender legs of the table in front of him. Large sheets of fabrics in many colors were hung up as decoration, which along with the thick smell of perfume gave him a headache.

But he would admit that there was one thing he respected about this room. The window behind the delegates he was facing was enormous and allowed an unprecedented view of the Summerset Isles. The golden plains were dotted by small farms and the occasional village, which eventually led to the glimmering blue ocean on the horizon. The natural beauty of the island trumped all the vain decorations of the elves, he thought, but he would still rather be in county Anvil. He ate his fig.

In front of him sat two Altmer delegates who both gave unconvincing laughs to his wife's tale. He forced what must have been a pained smile. The Count Umbranox sat up and set his hand on his wife's. "No, I still don't care for dancing, Millona," he began, his smile becoming genuinely warm for a moment, "But I wasn't nearly as maladroit as you would make me see. Now, gentlemen, let us talk about what we meant to discuss," his voice now becoming more businesslike and professional.

"Indeed," said one of the Altmer.

"Now, I know you've heard all the rumors. Every man on the street, especially in the provinces is talking about how the Empire's treasury is empty and that it can no longer keep a strong hold over the provinces. And I'm sure they're especially strong here."

"They are."

"And I also assume that you know about those small rebels in Morrowind who think that they can somehow topple the legions who are stationed there. The ones with the insane dream of independence?"

"The ones who liberated Salen Vulgate?"

The Count Umbranox sneered. "If you call burning down the town hall and letting it descend into anarchy 'liberation'."

"Then yes, we have heard."

The Altmer's face was cold and stoic. Even the normally wily count couldn't quite read what the elf was thinking. He glanced to his wife who offered him her smile- simple, perhaps, but he needed it when dealing with elves. The Count Umbranox looked the Altmer in the eyes. "… I see that news travels quickly, even in the isles. But discussing that is not the reason I've come here. I have with me a treaty, ordered by Regent Ocato himself, which reaffirms the mutual friendship between the Imperial Province and the Summerset Isles. It also loosens some of the tariffs on imported goods, as well as giving the local governors some of the rights normally allocated to the Census and Exercise, among other rights. You can read the entire document here."

He motioned for an aid to bring over a very elaborate looking scroll. It was promptly handed to the Altmer who read it over with an amazing speed. 'A scholarly type, of course,' the count thought.

"… Your terms are very generous," the dignitary said at last.

"Of course. The Empire is always sure to reward those who are loyal and faithful to her. Just as we shall conversely bring the hammer of retribution to the East."

"I see."

The count hated the curt treatment he was receiving, but he didn't dare show it. After all, this was quite an important treaty. "And the Altmer people are a very loyal people, correct?"

"Of course."

"Then I see no problems with the treaty. We will give you time to make any changes you deem necessary before my wife and I return to Anvil," the count finished, rising.

He took his wife's hand as she gave her elegant bow and the two started to turn. But before he left the Count Umbranox glanced behind him to the dignitary who hadn't moved a muscle. "I am glad," he called out, "That we have such a steady and true ally in your people."

"Whatever else would you find?"

The count was apparently satisfied and exited the room into a flight of stairs. The couple descended the stairs swiftly, as if something was bothering one of them. The countess looked to her husband and gave him a smile. "That went very smoothly, don't you agree, darling?"

The Count Umbranox scowled, looking straight ahead. "If you take those elves at face value, I suppose."

"Husband, why must you be so suspicious! Those elves did nothing to wrong us."

"My dear, just because they said nothing doesn't mean they're not plotting something. Didn't you see a flicker of something when that elf answered that last question? A gleam of something less than loyalty?"

The countess looked honestly surprised. "No, I wasn't looking at him. But those terms are so agreeable I couldn't imagine anything that those elves could be frustrated about."

The Count Umbranox didn't look to his wife and continued to walk down the spiraling stairs. His face was troubled and caught up in thought. "Perhaps you are right, my dear, perhaps you are right…"


"… I heartily adhere to the belief that the provinces of the west and south are loyal. Indeed, the rewards of their loyal service rain down upon them every day. The Empire does not hoard her wealth and gifts. No- She shares them to the people who comprise her, those people that have supported their natural superiors and lords. That is why I am sure our rational Breton and elven friends wouldn't even consider betraying that which has aided them for centuries."

Ocato coughed once. "True, the crops have created a smaller than average yield this year. However, I have personally gave the order for the Imperial agents in all major cities to open up the emergency grain stores which were complied just in case of an event like this was to happen. The good people of the Empire will never starve, not while I stand as the watchman…"


In the great city of Sentinel two Redguard men walked in a cloister. They were dressed in clothes common of bureaucrats, practical and respectable, but not flashy. They were speaking rather loudly as they walked, with both looking rather frustrated.

Suddenly, the first put his hand on the shoulder of the second. The first was a younger man, with a fair face and eyes filled with zeal. "Please, would you just listen to what I'm saying? It's a very valid proposition!"

The second shook his partner's hand off his shoulder. He was a fair deal older, and his face was troubled. "What you are talking of is treason," he said coldly, quickening his pace.

"Hey! Wait!" the first said while matching his speed to the angry older man's. "I said wait! Now don't you call me treasonous! If anything, I'm the loyal one here! At least I know that I should be loyal to my own people, not some greasy Imperial!"

The older man spun about and looked the younger one in the eyes. "Boy, what you are saying is not only impossible but idiotic. Secede? The nation of Sentinel- secede? We're Imperial subjects. We've no right to secede."

"'Right'? Listen, the Imperials didn't have the 'right' to invade us in the first place. We're the victims here! Being taxed by faraway overlords, sending out men to go off and serve in their legions, being unable to forge our people's destiny! Every people should have the right to rule themselves! If we're talking about the 'right' to secede it should be our first, God-given right! For too long have we just idly stood by and let some foreigners rule over us. Well, it's high time that someone put an end to it!"

"What?"

"As a citizen of our great people and city, I find the fact that we're unable to rule ourselves both infuriating and unacceptable! We are Redguards! We're no pawns to be used by Imperial overlords. No, we're a proud, self-determined people! A people who should have full control of their future! It's a fact so obvious that I shouldn't even have to say it. Any real citizen of Sentinal would've already realized it!"

The second man turned up his nose. "You've rehearsed this speech, haven't you?"

The first blushed slightly. "N-no! And besides, these thoughts are harbored by all patriotic people of Sentinel!"

"You said that already," the second man sneered at his younger counterpart. He turned on his heel and started to walk once more. "Listen. Your nationalistic pseudo-philosophy might get some people riled up, but all you've offered me is some tear-jerking story about repression. That's all sad, and everything, but you've shown no practical way that we could go about breaking off from the Empire."

"H-hey! Old man! Do you really think I didn't think about how to beat the Empire? Hey, listen to me! Just because I'm young doesn't mean I'm stupid!"

The first man put his hand on the second's shoulder once more. The second man slowly turned away, his eyes revealing that he wasn't going to have much patience. Regardless, the younger man looked up at him. "Now think about it. There is no time better than today to try to break off from the Empire. And I've got reasons. Real reasons."

"Fine, boy. Shoot. Sum up your argument as quickly as you can. We're running low on daylight."

The second man had a point, as the sun was starting to set. The first man nodded. "Quickly? Well, you know, I only actually need one reason. One reason alone can prove that we can and will secede from the Empire- Money."

"Money?"

"Oh, come now! Sentinel is the richest region in the Iliac Bay, even beating out Wayrest! The Warp in the West had been more than kind to us. Our territory has expanded tenfold and we've been able to tax the sin out of all these people. We work in the treasury, man! You know the kinds of funds that pass through our office alone. They're astronomical compared to what you gleaned back when you were my age, right?"

The younger man crossed his arms, giving his elder a cocky smile. "Sentinel has entered her golden age! We're stronger and more powerful than any other city in Hammerfall. We're no longer just a merchant power, and those oldbags in the 'first capital' know it! Our funds are no longer just great, they're limitless! Now look at the Empire, will you? Do you know what kind of infrastructure damage it took during the Oblivion crisis? They say whole cities were wiped out in Cyrodiil. Not to mention all the forts that were damaged out in the east. Even more, the Empire hasn't been able to efficiently tax their people because of the crisis. The Census and Exercise used to be our role model, and now they're what we mock! You must've heard the rumors even before the crisis began- that the Imperials were in a bit of a depression, right? Well, this crisis has exacerbated it! I bet that there is more money sitting in the treasury and banks of Sentinel than in every Imperial vault combined!"

"You 'bet'?"

"I-It's an educated guess! Listen, can you prove anything to the contrary? Do you have any evidence that the Empire is economically healthy?"

"Boy, I'm not under the obligation to prove anything-"

"Well, I can make it seem pretty likely when it comes to my case! For example, why do you think that all those legions were recalled out east?"

"I heard it was for some sort of military review."

"Hah! A likely story! I'm sure you read it in the Courier or something. Well, I think it's because the Empire can't afford to hold the east anymore-"

"Oh, come on!" The older man called out, raising his voice.

"No, no! Listen! Didn't you read that economic journal? Did you see the East Empire Company's earnings ratio for the past year? It was forty percent lower than during-"

"That's just because Raven Rock dried up. It was a bad gamble on their part, but not a sign of-"

"Give me a break! One colony doesn't make a normally hugely profitable company lose forty percent of their income! It's a catastrophic sort of loss! It's an unimaginable kind of loss! It's a bankruptcy sort of loss! And that's just the East Empire! Think of all the other offices that took damage during the crisis. I hear that there are even revolts out there, in the east-"

"Where did you hear that. In "The Common Tongue"-?"

"No, I heard it from Klath, and he works with diplomats every day."

"Alright, boy," the older man said, trying to make the youngblood settle down, "Let me boil down your argument. We should revolt because the Empire, which has made Sentinel very profitable, mind you, is 'tyrannical' and we have money?"

"Y-you know it's more complicated than that! And besides, that's enough, anyway. We could even beat them in a war, I bet. They're too exhausted to support all the legions they would need, and we could buy all the mercenaries we could ever want. Hell, we can even stand toe-to-toe to them with our own boys. They're far superior than an Imperial in a fight, you know."

The older man turned around with a tired sigh. The sun had almost set, leaving only a small glimmer of light visible on the horizon. "Before you go off and do something stupid, remember this. We are Imperial subjects. And free speech isn't quite as free as it used to be. I wouldn't go about yelling your dreams of independence out to everyone."

"I'm sure I'm not the only person who's come to this conclusion. In fact, I wager the king's even thought the same idea," the first man said, grinning ever so slightly on the last sentence, "You're not the first person I've told… You know Klath seemed more than a little interested in it."

There was a silence, and the older man came to a realization "… You know that if we try to do this, Wayrest and Daggerfall will declare war."

"Then let them. We'll win. We'll beat all the powers and rise as a new nation out of the crucible of war. It's far too late to turn back, old man."

The second man gave a deep sigh. "Boy, you say that like it's a good thing…"


"… And now, I shall address the final point that I am to speak of today."

The crowd, which had had started to mumble due to the heat and boredom grew silent once more. The mass watched Ocato silently as the Altmer gulped some air, hoping to quench his now dry throat. "… The final candidates for the Emperor have not been finalized."

There was a massive groan from the crowd, and many started to yell at the stage. Lex took his cue and screamed a massive silence at the crowd, an action that Erasmus Servius did at the same time. The people ceased their noisemaking nearly immediately. "However!" Ocato all but yelled, "The list is nearly complete!"

"The final announcement is that by the end of a year, the new emperor shall be named. The Elder Council guarantees a list by the end of next month. There shall be details in the next issue of the Black Horse Courier-"

The crowd had erupted once more into noise of all varieties. Ocato still tried to speak in a vain attempt to finish his speech, but soon realized that no one was going to listen. Maro was buffeted about in the crowd that was getting excited, but not quite violent. Habasi realized that this wasn't the safest place for her and quietly took her leave, followed by a Redguard. Lex looked about the crowd and heard Civello calling for him. The portly commander said something about a concern about safety, but it was hard to make out.

This went on for about five minutes before the crowd quieted down. Some solders broke through the crowd as the men on the platform left the Arboretum. Civello stood next to Ocato, and heard the Altmer whisper, "Look at the lot of them. They demand an Emperor from us every day, and this is how they take the news?"

Civello smiled thinly. "That is what makes the mob a mob, your honor."

Ocato frowned, but said nothing.


The Fox watched the proceedings with great interest. The Fox wasn't close to the action, but that was how the Fox liked it. Besides, the Fox could read the lips of Ocato if it really wanted to. But 

Ocato wasn't the important man this day; his time had passed. No, the Fox could see the major players. That cat-thief who was licking her paw in the crowd. The guard captain who was standing at attention next to that foolish Civello. Even that shopkeeper, who even the Fox had a hard time believing at the start would be someone who would change the world.

And it wasn't just the most important people. There were some of the supporting roles out and about. A younger guard speaking to a wood elf actress stood at one gate. The lady stood with her flames about her. Civello, of course, as well as the man from Argonia. Even the Fox's own man was standing in the crowd, keeping an eye on the cat.

The Fox looked about the pieces. They were set in their places. The game could finally begin.

The Fox vanished.