Seven Saviors

Hey everyone! I'm working to bring in the last two characters this chapter, and then the fun and fights will REALLY begin. I'll even give some glimpses into the activities of our old favorites. Anyway, on with the story!

Valmir Acatasi, High Elf

Garlas Malatar, Western Coast of Cyrodiil

It had all led to this moment, to these final blows: The Pilgrimage of the Nine to the wayshrines of the Nine Divines, the first recovery of the Crusader's Helm from the sunken ruins of Vanua, the rediscovery and restoration of the Priory of the Nine and the recovery of the Cuirass of the Crusader from its haunted basement, the following expeditions to recover the ancient arms of the Divine Crusader Pelinal Whitestrake, and the re-establishment of the Knights of the Nine. After receiving the Blessing of Talos from the Prophet, the ancient man who had set him on this quest in the very beginning, he had gathered up his eight loyal followers come from all around Tamriel, and had assaulted this Ayleid coastal fortress, home to a very dangerous foe indeed.

The Knight shifted his stance and hefted his shield, holding the Sword of the Crusader in his right hand. The Mace of the Crusader was belted to his left hip. His foe at the top of a set of stairs slowly descended, drawing a sword the size of a regular claymore and swinging it easily with one hand.

I can't do this, I can't do this, thought Valmir, sweating under the helm nervously. He was already weary from fighting his way through the footsoldier daedra of his enemy, the Aurorans, brought into service from the realm of the goddess Meridia. Now he faced his ultimate foe, Umaril the Unfeathered, gold-clad Ayleid king, renowned dodger of death, and part-Daedra. It was all down to him, Valmir Acatasi, former High Elf merchant of the Gold Road circuit, to send Umaril back to the Waters of Oblivion, this time with a permanent visa and a travel restriction, Nine willing. Seeing the thickness of Umaril's armor, Valmir the Crusader changed tactics, drawing the mace and sheathing the sword. He remembered what Sir Roderick had begun to explain to him on the Pilgrimage about tactics of combat as they traveled together, him, Sir Roderick, and Squire Lathon, currently Sir Lathon.

"Remember, my friend, that an enemy clad in heavy plate or thick chain is likely to cause trouble if you wield a blade. Then you have to take valuable time to seek out a weakness or seam in the armor, using energy to defend yourself. After all, why seek an opening when you can use a stout blunt weapon to create your own? A mace, warhammer, or axe will allow you to smash holes, cracks, and seams into heavy armor that you can then take advantage of with a blade. So have both weapons handy to enable a quick, decisive attack and victory."

Thank you, Sir Roderick, Valmir thought, using the mace to smash a few gaps into the gilded Ayleid plate armor, while parrying the blows of the claymore of Umaril diagonally off of the Shield of the Crusader. The Ayleid King laughed, taunting him in an ancient language that was unknown to Valmir's ears. But the spirit of Pelinal filled Valmir, and he continued to strike, lashing out for each lost soul that had been killed in the conflict with Umaril. He struck hard for the desecrated chapels, the slaughtered priests, the dead Sir Roderick. As he fought Umaril, striking hard with sword, mace, and shield, tears flowed freely for all those who suffered due to this monster. The tears were also those of joy, as healing magic flowed from the Gauntlets of the Crusader, giving him divine strength to fight on and praising him for all of his sacrifices. His business was in shambles, his friends fought the Aurorans in the halls of Garlas Malatar, shouts of triumph and battle cries mingling with the cries and yelps of pain, as the ceaseless torrent of Aurorans came down upon them. And Valmir fought on, under the heavy press of a curse of weariness taken upon himself to help the young descendent of a cursed knight break free of his unceasing weariness. Kellen was now free to make his own destiny, and from what Valmir had heard, was making a marathon tour running around Cyrodiil.

And yet, despite all of his burdens, Valmir fought on. He caught Umaril's blade on the blade and crossguard of his own sword, parrying and 'taking' the steel, and whipping the sword up into the air. Umaril watched it fly up before turning and punching Valmir into the ground with the spiked gauntlet of his right fist, before deftly reaching up and catching his sword as it fell back down, reversing it to attempt a finishing ground stab into Valmir's prostrated form. But Valmir seized advantage and used Umaril's momentum against him, allowing Umaril to thrust his body down onto the Sword of the Crusader through a mace-created gap in the armor. Umaril grunted in pain before sliding down to lay on top of Valmir, death rattle echoing in his helmet. Valmir pushed the dead weight off of him with a great exertion, and stood, retrieving any dropped equipment. He then took a steadying breath, listening intently. Silence, apart from the crumbling of old stone and the drip of water in the pool near his feet, was all that greeted his ears, an eerie sensation after being subjected to the clanging and crashing of armed combat. He didn't know whether the silence was good or bad. Were his friends behind him successful in defeating the Aurorans? Or were the Aurorans finished slaughtering his friends and attempting to follow and defeat him? Either way, he still had business to take care of. He cast the Blessing of Talos and followed the spirit of Umaril the Unfeathered.

When he opened his eyes, not realizing he had shut them, he cried out and flailed his arms. He was suspended high above the Imperial City, directly above White-Gold Tower, in fact. He then realized that this was similar to how he spoke to the spirit of Pelinal Whitestrake after his pilgrimage. But Pelinal wasn't there to greet him this time. He was face to face with a rather shocked and incredibly aggravated Umaril. He cried out in a guttural voice in the Ayleid tongue, and although Valmir knew nothing of it, it sounded relatively like, "How in Oblivion have you pulled this trickery?!?"

Valmir drew the Mace of Zenithar again, feeling weariness tug at him. He cursed.

Damn, I was hoping I would be stronger here! He thought in desperation. Just then, Pelinal Whitestrake's spirit appeared next to him. Umaril shouted in rage.

"By the Grace of the Eight-And-One, you have defeated his mortal incarnation and followed him to this plane! Now it is time to do what I myself could not. I shall add my strength to yours, and by the Blessed Nine, we shall have complete victory!" The spirit cried out, almost a mirror of Valmir clad in the Armor of the Divine Crusader. All of a sudden, Pelinal floated forward and into Valmir, and the Armor and weapon were suddenly shimmering with the added presence of the first Divine Crusader. Valmir felt the strength of two men pouring into his weary body, and he stood straighter, raising the shield and mace in a final salute in Umaril's direction.

"I salute you as a worthy adversary in armed combat, Umaril-King," said Valmir/Pelinal in a merged voice, Valmir's High Elf voice merging with the Imperial tones of Pelinal's voice, "But your time for trickery and cunning has passed. WE BANISH YOU!"

And with that, Valmir, the Divine Crusader Reborn, charged into final combat. Umaril snarled, mainly in fear, but made to swing down in an overhead strike. As Valmir moved to block, the Ayleid swung a foot out and kicked him in the knee, bending his leg in the complete wrong direction. Valmir collapsed screaming to the…'ground' cloud layer, clutching the leg. The spirit of Pelinal emerged from his body, reaching out and shoving the leg back together properly, using the spirit-echo of the Gauntlets of the Crusader to heal the knee before rejoining him in his body. They stood again, Umaril muttering, having stood back to let the Crusader heal himself, and swung his claymore back in a ready stance. They clashed in combat, as Valmir shield-bashed Umaril in the chin, smashing the mace against the collar of Umaril's golden cuirass. The armor shattered under the strength provided by Pelinal, and Valmir hung the mace from his belt and drew his sword. Blade clashed against blade as Umaril went on a furious, desperate attack, landing blows against Valmir's armor that failed to penetrate. Valmir, in a final stunning move, parried Umaril's last attack up above his head hard, then spun around clockwise, gripping the Sword of the Crusader with both hands and impaling Umaril in the weak spot created by the Mace. Umaril's claymore hit the clouds and dissipated as Umaril dropped it and threw his arms wide, sinking to his knees with a loud shout of pain. Pelinal's spirit left Valmir's body, and Valmir felt the weakness strike again, watching as Pelinal placed his right hand on Umaril's forehead.

"By the Eight and One, I banish you from these lands! May your shadow never again spread its darkness on the lands of Tamriel," Pelinal declared. Umaril disintegrated with a roar of fury, and Valmir felt himself falling, falling. The top of White-Gold Tower came closer and closer, and the voice of Pelinal filled his head as he fell.

"Well done, Sir Knight. You are indeed in possession of a worthy heart! Go forth and do your duty as a defender of the Nine Divines, and defend our people with courage in your heart and strength in your limbs!"

Valmir awoke in the Undercroft of the Priory, and celebrated the victory with all of his friends and fellows-in-arms. The spirits of the Old Knights of the Nine were now free to ascend to Aetherius to rejoin Pelinal and be honored for their service.

Two Weeks Later

Valmir Acatasi and Ra'jirra Sharasi (Khajit)

Outside Fort Alessia, Ring Road Southeast of Imperial City

Valmir, Sir Thedret, Sir Avita, and Sir Brellin all stood outside of the fort, waiting to spring the trap they had deployed.

"My Lord Crusader," Avita said, tugging her glass bow's string back, "Are we sure your, er, contact isn't informing them about our doings?"

Valmir smirked.

"Oh yes, Sir Avita, those Marauders don't know what is about to hit them."

As if on cue, an explosion sounded inside the fort, followed by various cries and shouts.

"Get the s'wit!" A male dark elf shouted.

"HURGH!" cried an orc, presumably getting hurt or killed.

As other various shouts and noise filled the inside of the fort, one noise drowned them out as it got closer: the mischievous cackle of a female Khajit.

The aforementioned Khajit, clad in a burgundy riding skirt, a gray patterned 'Highwayman's' shirt, and a gray hood and scarf came dashing out the door. She had an elegantly curved Elven shortsword strapped to her waist, and an Elven bow strapped to her back with a quiver of silver arrows. Avita and Brellin were already on the second floor of the fort, bows at the ready to take down the warlord's escorts. Ra'jirra leaped up into the air, stretching out a paw, and Brellin quickly knelt and caught it, pulling her up next to him. Valmir and Thedret dropped in front of the opening leading into the ruined fort.

"This one thinks you would make a good Khajit, Treehugger Brellin," Ra'jirra said with a good-natured grin as she strung her bow and took up her spot. Brellin smirked in response, but the arrival of several angry marauders ended the discussion. Thedret and Valmir began making short work of the marauders that dared to attack them or make a break for the opening, as the three archers on the second floor began unleashing arrows into the masses coming from the fort like a swarm of angry hornets. When the mass of marauders seemed to grow to be more than the group could handle, Avita paused for a moment and tossed a green spell up into the sky. Two minutes later, a Watch Captain from the Imperial city and a dozen Imperial Legion Soldiers joined the fight, evening it out significantly. They fought until the warlord and his closest advisors saw fit to surrender. As they walked up to the surrendering group, the warlord still had a smug sneer etched on his face. As they approached, the air crackled, and the marauder battlemage near the warlord openly grinned, a Breton with a bad temperament. An Elven shortsword came whistling through the air and impaled the Breton through the chest. His smirk died the instant before he did, collapsing to his knees with a groan before slumping forward, bloody blade protruding from his back. The warlord looked torn between fury and hopelessness. Ra'jirra stepped forward with her goofy grin on her face and moved her hands through the air. The battlemage's corpse lifted enough for the sword to slide out, and it floated in the air before wiping itself clean on his robes. The sword then moved around the group, slicing their weapons free from their belts and flicking menacingly toward the necks of the remaining marauders, who flinched each time.

"Good work, Lord Crusader. You and your followers have done the Legion a great service today," the watch captain said, walking up to Valmir and patting him on the shoulder.

Valmir reached up and removed his helmet, shaking the captain's hand.

"It was no trouble, Itius, just my service to the Nine to protect the people," Valmir said. He and Itius Hayn of the Imperial Watch had become friends as Valmir had travelled the West Weald in his days as a merchant, often writing to the Imperial Watch about where he encountered the most bandits, or the most evidence of their attacks. Itius Hayn would often reply with a thank you, and Legion patrols would weed out the trouble if they could.

"I always appreciate when you request our help, it gives me a chance to get away from the City and do some actual fieldwork. You gave some of our newer recruits some combat experience as well," Itius replied, waving a hand to indicate the Legionnaires. Some of them stood to attention at his glance, and he waved them down with a smirk and a gesture.

"Go on, men," he said, "Let the Crusaders and their 'Ranger' have their finders' fee, and take the rest."

The Legionnaires immediately followed the Knights into the fort, looking eager.

"Anything we collect goes into funds to aid the churches attacked by Umaril, and supports the upkeep of the Priory of the Nine. Your Legionnaires are going to receive more than they think for a share. And of course, with further cooperative efforts in the future, we will garner more profits for both our organizations," Valmir said. Having at least some Legion backing could be useful in the future.

"No arguments there, my friend, but I do wish you had let me provide you with some support troops when you attacked that bastard Ayleid in his den. You were quite outnumbered. Many feared for all of your lives," Itius said gravely.

"I would, under normal circumstances, have sent for you immediately, but the symbolic victory was utterly necessary. Now with what the permanently entrapped Umaril will tell the Daedra of Oblivion, the Knights of the Nine can be taken seriously as a force. We are all planning to take squires soon, as well, effectively doubling our numbers and insuring that nothing short of a full-blown disaster can eradicate us."

The conversation was interrupted as a Legion patrolman galloped up to them. He paused to greet Valmir respectfully with a 'Lord Crusader…' before launching into his report to Hayn.

"Captain Hayn, sir, Chancellor Ocato is requesting your presence along with the other captains. Oblivion Gates similar to the one at Kvatch are opening across Cyrodiil, and even in other provinces! Al d'ruhn has been obliterated by the Daedra hordes in Vvardenfell, and King Helseth himself has come to speak to the Chancellor."

Hayn paused, agape at the dawning reality of the situation.

"By Tiber Septim's holy beard, I'll reconvene my troops and return immediately! Lord Crusader, will you be joining us?" Itius asked Valmir. The fact that he called him Lord Crusader made it a formal request.

"But sir, Chancellor Ocato said to only notify the Legion captains!" the patrolman stammered.

"Lord Crusader Valmir has shown the Empire that he is more than capable of leading a military force and making Daedra bathe in their own blood. He has earned the right to join us," Hayn chastised the patrolman. He turned to Valmir.

"Gather your troops, Sir Knight, and make quick arrangements. We depart in fifteen minutes."

Valmir nodded. His knights and friends stopped their gathering of coin and valuable goods and returned, gathering around him.

"My friends, I need you to return to the Priory at once. Put it on high alert. I want a two-man watch in the priory tower at all hours and a perimeter patrol executed intermittently. Maintain no patterns in the patrol, we must be unpredictable. Ra'jirra, you and I are going to go see the Chancellor, and you and Avita will be my method of communication between the City and the Priory. Be on the lookout for Oblivion Gates, and if one appears within a mile of the Priory, notify me at once, but make no attempt to close it. The Knights of the Nine are one unit, and we will fight and defend our home as such. Any questions? Good, then you know what must be done. I will return and notify you promptly."

Two Hours Later

Imperial City, Imperial Palace District, Green Emperor Way

Valmir and Ra'jirra stood in the shadows of the Council Chamber, which reached around a circle in the middle of the tower and stretched high up to a second story, where a balcony circled around the tower before it continued up. The opening, if leapt from, would drop anyone foolish enough to try such a stunt directly in the middle of the table. The table was currently looking very empty, since only a few seats were occupied. The Mane of Elsweyr sat at a section of the table, flanked by two dangerous-looking Khajit armed with glass longswords. The bodyguards grinned sheepishly at Ra'jirra when she winked at them, breaking their steely gaze for a moment. The Mane smirked at Ra'jirra and his amused bodyguards before resuming his pensive thought.

Khajit, Valmir thought, are some of the oddest fellows I will ever know.

Other powerful leaders of various guilds and provinces sat around the table: a Redguard from the Hammerfell province representing the government there, a man Valmir knew by sight to be the youngest son of the woman heading the Fighters' Guild of Cyrodiil, accompanied by the representatives of heads for other various Fighters' Guilds from the varying provinces, Archmage Hannibal Traven of the Arcane University, King Helseth of Morrowind himself, accompanied by a half-dozen of his guards, his guard captain Tienius Delitan, and his personal bodyguard Karrod, a Redguard. The Cyrodiil city counts and countesses were notably absent from these proceedings, and word had been received that they were seeing to their cities to prevent 'another Kvatch' in their own cities. The only representative of the cities present at this time was the representative of Skingrad, because Janus Hassildor was not known to make many public appearances, and therefore left a representative in the Imperial City year-round.

Chancellor Ocato turned in his chair to look at King Helseth, who stood to address him.

"Chancellor Ocato, with all due respect, any legions you have to spare are needed urgently in Morrowind, especially Vvardenfell. My own Royal Guard can handle the situations in mainland Morrowind, but the Great Houses of Vvardenfell are far too concerned with their own affairs to handle any sort of defense. Houses Dres and Hlaalu are too occupied with picking at the spoils of House Indoril, House Redoran is in ruins after their trade capital at Al d'ruhn was destroyed, not to mention their disastrous attempt to wage war with the Nords over control of Solstheim, and only House Telvanni has shown the interest and commitment to defending the isle from the Daedric invasion. The Telvanni have agreed to a partnership, as Councilor Aryon has told me, with the Imperial Legion in order to counter the threat."

The Redguard from Hammerfell stood up, gripping the scimitar at his waist with his left hand.

"Honored Chancellor, the situation in Hammerfell is not as grim, but the combined might of the Bretons and the Yokudans is NOT enough to force the daedric invasion from our provinces. We need assistance. Let the Dunmer fend for themselves. The managed it for a very long time just fine!"

The Mane hissed.

"Look at you two!" he growled, shaking the massive braids of his mane in irritation, "Fighting like two Alfiq over a bowl of milk! Chancellor Ocato can only do so much for us. If only you weren't so weak and obsessed with your 'political maneuvers', you could focus on the task at hand. We Khajiit have no trouble beating back the Daedra hordes. They burn our forests, torch our homes, yet pay for it with a massive blood price. We only need to find how to close these damning hellgates, and we can rid our land of the evils!"

Ocato sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingers, as if attempting in vain to relieve a persistent headache.

"Gentlemen," Ocato said in a calm voice, "In times like these, Emperor Uriel would ask us to exercise unity, not make thinly-veiled insults and threats at each other across a table. Cooperation is necessary. However, we must address other issues. King Helseth, what is needed to unite the Great Houses? Is this not the purpose of the Nerevarine?"

Helseth, remaining seated, nodded.

"In normal times, we would unite the Great Houses in arms under the command of the Nerevarine, however, the Nerevarine has chosen to seek another destiny across the seas in Akavir, and any messengers I send are either repulsed by the ferocious waters or fail to return at all. To make matters worse, religious strife is creating chaos. Since the Nerevarine began his journeys, we have confirmed Sotha Sil to be dead, Almalexia to be… indisposed, and Vivec to have disappeared. The High Priest of Vivec came into a healing house with many wounds, stammering about gateways of fire opening in front of the stairs to Vivec's palace, and violent storms at the peak. Ordinators immediately stormed the palace and killed any lingering Daedra, but Vivec was nowhere to be found."

"So the mighty Tribunal have met their fates, it seems," Ocato said, "But what other strife is there?"

"The Ashlander tribes have all finally come together to form One-Clan-Under-Moon-And-Star, putting aside their differences in order to stand a chance of survival. They are firm believers in the ancient worship of Azura, one of the Daedric Princes. They fight for survival against rogue Ordinators that are unaccounted for, roaming the continent in service to their dead gods. The Imperial Cult worship continues to abound without fail, thankfully, but the Great Houses have seemingly given up any sort of following in their attempts to make land grabs on the Indoril territory. The Ashlanders war with the Great Houses, proclaiming them as traitors to Saint Nerevar, the Hortator. My guard can only do so much, and Hlaalu is being very restrained in how much support he gives me," Helseth said, anger showing in his guttural voice.

"Thank you, King Helseth," Ocato said, moving on to the next ruler. When everyone had said their peace, Ocato reported on the situation in Cyrodiil, which seemed to be the main target in the Daedric siege. He also reported on the defeat of Umaril, which earned Valmir some appraising looks from the Mane and the Redguard, and a nod from Helseth. The Legion captains were addressed next.

"Captains, you all will maintain your presence and purpose here in the City. You must focus on improving the city's defenses. Captain Hayn, I want you to begin dispatching allotments of Legionnaires to the other provinces. We must hold onto our Empire and not back down from this Daedra threat. You all know what you must do. Honored guests, feel free to take to the guest chambers and rest in the hospitality of the Imperial Palace.

Ra'jirra tapped Valmir's arm urgently and pointed out the western window. There in the sky, floated a ball of pale green light, indicating that danger was encroaching on the Priory of the Nine.

"With respect, Honored Leaders, I must depart. My home is in danger," Valmir said, standing up and donning his helmet. Ra-jirra sprinted from the room. As he turned to wave to Itius, he saw him run over and grab his claymore and helmet.

"Itius, my friend, I appreciate your eagerness, but you have orders to fulfill. We Knights can take care of ourselves for a while. You have an Empire to defend."

And with that, he bowed to the gathered Council and sprinted out to meet Ra-jirra.

Hello fellows. Sorry for the rather dry chapter, but dabbling in politics of Tamriel is difficult. I apologize if I got something wrong. I also know that Helseth might seem out of character, since he is characteristically tight-lipped about things in the 'Tribunal' expansion pack. Next chapter, we will return to some old characters, and have Valmir and Ra'jirra officially enter into the group.