"Torval is the city-state of Elsweyr's spiritual and temporal ruler, the Mane. He and his tribe live here in stately and exotic palaces built from massive timbers of Valenwood oak." -Pocket Guide to the Empire, First Edition, "The Elsweyr Confederacy"

Mid Year 14, 4E2

Commerce District, Near the Royal Courtyard

Down a street tinted in the yellow glow of a setting sun, we seemed to be well past any shops. There were few civilians on the sidewalks in this stretch, just soldiers. But the homes looked fittingly intact and streets fittingly clean this close to the palace.

Ah-Marz had told me the King of Torval had residence next to the Mane. In fact, the center of the city was sort of a resort for the King of Torval, the Mane, and his tribe. It was a mini-district. That seemed odd, even a little jarring, but only because of arbitrary Cyrodilic cultural standards. It was unclear to me who claimed ownership to the tower that was visible from outside the city, however.

We had not dressed up, my reasoning being that an honest look, representing how we clothed ourselves in day to day operations, would be more noble than expensive adornments that glorified unnecessary expenditures in a time of war.

Turning another corner, there was a scruffy Khajiit on the ground, having been tackled by two watchmen. He was looking at us with bulging eyes. Even this close to the Mane, there were still ruffians lose.

"You!" the unkept man shouted. As best I could guess he was looking at Collects-Rocks. "You done more wrong than me! You should be in prison!" Even here, so close to our mascot, we were not quite safe from local scorn.

"He's done more of everything than you." I retorted. We kept walking.

As we passed the rogue old man, it was only a matter of time and corners until we were to reach the entrance gate, seven free agents out in the daylight, heading to meet with a king.

Ah-Marz had informed me the Mane was actually slightly younger than me, and that would make this meeting slightly uncomfortable; It rubbed me the wrong way to see someone under my age operating with much more majesty...None the less, jealousy obviously was not going to be a high order factor in this equation. We had some of the most important topics of the new Era to discuss and I would be honored to meet with a stalwart friend of Western ideals.

A piece of litter blew around the next turn, which we were quite near.

Upon navigating it, what was presented was the objective of our journey: The gates! They were plane and wooden, but behind them the most important decisions in Elsweyr were made, many of which would soon be about me!

There were many guards stationed ahead, in a uniform entirely distinct from that of the Confederates and citywatch. They were dark orange, with helmets that only sparsely covered the head, and atop which were backwards curving spikes. The joints in the armor were unprotected too, and something told me the design went back millenia.

There were two directly in front of the portals, a Senche with a spear and a Suthay with a scimitar. Flanking the gates were a couple more, and yet another pair were above them. All their eyes were upon this distinctive crowd. No doubt they had been thinking about this group's arrival for quite some time, just as we had been thinking about meeting the Mane. The Knights of Elsweyr, the mysterious new foreigners in Elsweyr, a god send the locals did not quite know what to make of, were presenting themselves to the palace's royal guard for the first time.

The faces of the warriors did not quite bid welcome, but surely they knew who we were.

In a distant part of the city, some shouting could be heard, aggressive in tone, probably a watchman commanding a halt. The Mane and King of Torval were blessed to be so isolated from the city they ruled, though hopefully only in body and not in mind.

K'Raska had written we would need to identify ourselves. I inferred the Senche and Suthay, who seemed to be stationed in irregular places, would be the ones to escort us in.

It was time to get their attention.

Still walking, I began to speak: "Hey," That did not seem entirely appropriate for addressing a regal guard force but..."We're the one your leader...the Mane...wanted to meet with. The 'Knights of New Elsweyr.'" I stopped. "He told you about us, right?"

The girthy Senche looked at us with hard eyes and a weighty face. Then he opened his mouth to speak with a gravely tone. "Yes, you are the ones K'Raska wishes to see." Good, all as planned.

He looked up and yelled, "Kad Cyrodilizad dobba! Jorrir ka quinak!"

And with that the timber structures began moving. The two guards parted too, clearing my field of view for a sight few were privileged to see.

What was being revealed was a beautiful, vibrant garden of tropical flowers and trimmed hedges, navigated with complex cobble-stone paths (which formed a tee shortly after entry). A gazebo was ahead too, as were many cosy looking wooden villas, though I could not see either palace yet.

I began walking, my men in tow. Ever since being picked for that assignment in Black Marsh, I had been blessed to see many grandest places in Tamriel.

There were evidently many more guards inside. Sugar groves were becoming visible, and soon so were the two palaces. Both dwellings were made of dark timbers, elaborately carved with many curves, some of the wood shooting past corners like horns. Both were also plated with stone on their bottoms.

The Senche said from behind us. "Mane's palace is one on your left."

Making it under the arch, we now had a full view of the beautiful district. Wells, sugar stalks, flowers; this was where the laws of Elsweyr were made, where the most targetted and gallant man of the province sat, and where most souls only were able to read about. It was monumental! Though guarded by an intimidating class of warriors, this was a place of unparelleled allure in a scourged province.

The path to K'Raska's palace seemed fairly obvious. Left, then right, then straight. I began walking in the appropriate direction.

This oasis of unhindered positive energy celebrated the tropical vibrancy so many rich men traveled across Tamriel to indulge in, and it was even more enchanting under the twilight sun. The paths were flanked with well cut shrubbery and diverse flowers. I saw a tiny bird with wings flapping at unreal, insectiod speeds flying about the well kept garden. Other avians were gathered in a bird bath nearby. It was a haven of utter comfort to compensate all the tough decisions required by a Mane and a King. It struck me that it was a far more pleasant dwelling than the Imperial palace. Elsweyr had us beat in one area.

Turning the corner, this unit now had a straight path to the Khajiit's palace, door staring us in the face, the cobbled walkway pointing us in the direction of our royal calling. Two soldiers were on either side of entrance, a Tojay and Tojay-Raht, both with scimitars glowing in the setting sun. Since we were seven strangers, five armed, I gathered they would enter with us as well.

Earlier Ah-Marz had informed me that, traditionally, the Mane gathered strands of hair from the faces of everyone in his tribe and Warrior Guard, to a point where it had devastating effect on mobility. This tradition had been abandoned (ironically by K'Dira, who was, for the most part, quite a traditionalist). I had never seen a picture of a hairless Mane, but I was soon to learn what one looked like, which would be quite a mark in my life considering the mythology behind this sub-species.

A butterfly fluttered past me.

I was near the steps and then my feet touched the regal stairs. The sentries put their hands to their hilts, but also made way. I was the one who was to open the doors it seemed. And after ascending the final step, I did.

Greeting us was a grandiose hall, ceiling high. There was a gracious red carpet through the center, and the walls were painted with elaborate murals. On my left were depictions of the jungle and Pellitinian civilization, cities of wood and toiling sugar farmers and giant mansions. On the the right were depictions of the sweeping, rippled desert dunes, the sun-baked clay towns, and the bundled nomadic tribes of the north.

There were stairs at about half way to the currently empty throne, which the rug forked around. And I noticed a Suthay guard at the bottom of them was fast approaching us.

Hand near his weapon (I got the feeling the soldiers were reticent to trust), he stopped perhaps six feet infront of me and said, "I will lead to negotiation chambers. Mane K'Raska is waiting." And turned and began swiftly walking.

This palace was sparsely lit. There were rays of amber sunset coming through some high windows, but other than that only two lights flanked the carpet, lights much like those at the Arcane University, giant cisterns of magical, purple fires. This was because Elsweyr was made for the eyes of Khajiit, who found little offense in the dark.

I was gifted to see this building as a native of Cyrodiil, what a tale my life had become! Densius Fidelis, opener of Black Marsh, Renegade of Elsweyr, friend of the bravest Mane!

I began ascending the steps the Suthay had. It seemed the throne room branched in three direction. The room behind the royal seat appeared our target. From this angle I could not see much of the chamber, other than a bit of a table, the ridges of the wall, and three of the cushioned chairs. But somewhere in that room was the Mane himself, the god-born breed according to Elsweyri belief.

I could guess K'Raska was sitting at the rear and center seat since we could not yet see him. But I was beginning to make out yet another guard most likely flanking his right, a female "furry elf," an Ohmes-Raht. To her back, and presumably the Mane's, was another mural, this one of the night sky.

And then the fateful feline started becoming visible. Dressed in what appeared to be a buttoned, red, silk garment with golden embroidery around the neck, he was perhaps six and a half feet tall; but unlike a Cathay he was lanky. His face was rather flat, and perhaps he had a less intimidating, cattier look, rather than the heartier, jaguarian of many Khajiit. His eyes were like that of a human, green, infact. There was certainly nothing immediately striking as divine about such an appearance, but I had finally absorbed the desired knowledge. This was the breed which could get the entire province bow to him on sight. Most Imperials never got to see one.

Then I crossed through the doorway and I was in the same room as the illustrious K'Raska. This moment would be exhalted in my memory until I was old and weak, and it was being recorded right now.

There were about twelve chairs at this table. I panicked a bit since I did not know the seating arrangement, but assumed to take a seat directly across from the mighty royalty. As I did, Ah-Marz took the seat just to my left, Jilheen to my right. Reesaka and Collects-Rocks sat South of Ah-Marz, and across from them S'Nirem and S'Bassa planted themselves.

Our gracious host had provided us with a plate of small horsdeoveres, what appeared to be...seasoned shrimp. A courteous sign. (Jilheen sampled one immedaitely.) The ambitious ruler himself had a golden goblet, head between two painted moons.

The soldiers who had been behind us took positions at the back half of the room. One would certainly have to make his way through a lot of steel and flesh to get at the exhalted Khajiit now. Unlike his soldiers, however, K'Raska wore a pleasant smile and a warm gaze. My envy of the younger man had disappeared, I realized, as I got the warm feeling Elsweyr was in good hands.

The tall leader spoke up, voice rich and stately, but not at all imposing, "Honored guests, I am sure you know me as K'Raska, Mane of Elsweyr. I, however, know not your names." His accent was moderate, though his speech was fluent. Seeing as he probably had no native practice, that was commendable.

I spoke. "My name is Densius Fidelis. To my left are Ah-Marz, Reesaka, and Collects-Rocks." I gestured to each. "To my right are Jilheen-Bolineena, S'Nirem, and S'Bassa." All of us were graced one by one his royal gaze. Densius Fidelis, once a no-name footsoldier, was now beholden by world leaders.

"Excellent. Let's get down to our important business," he said, clawed fingers interlocked on the table and green eyes gleaming. Corporal Fidelis had terms to discuss with the leader of the Khajiiti realm.