Even though she moved at a fast pace, Carolara took the chance to appreciate the forest around her. It was the only thing keeping her awake; this would be her second night in a row without sleep and she was really starting to feel the exhaustion. But her urgency drove her forward, stopping only when she had to, not daring to get comfortable when she did for fear of dozing off.

It started out as a lovely late summer's night, warm and clear, and navigating by map and compass was easy. Both the moons were nearly full, and moonlight poured between the trees, lighting up the forest. Wolf packs howled to one another, though she was grateful for their distance. One tree in particular had a spectacularly large shelf mushroom growing on it, of a type the wood-wise Breton knew to be edible and quite tasty even raw, so she broke it up into pieces and added them to her satchel. Carolara could smell rain on the winds, which were gradually picking up, so she appreciated the clear while she had it.

Soon enough, the clouds began to roll in from the west and she pulled her hood up. Carolara took her bow in hand and shifted her quiver beneath the cloak to keep the strings and fletchings from getting wet, noting that the trees were getting more and more spaced out. The grass was getting thicker and taller, too. Just as it began to rain she came out of the forest entirely, finding herself looking at miles of rolling grasslands.

What caught her attention most was the light of torches around a large stone statue, situated atop one of the hills. There was movement too, someone was there. Telling herself it wouldn't take but a minute to see what was going on, and it wasn't out of the way, she went for it. On approach she could see two elves and a Khajiit, drinking and making merry around a statue of Sanguine, reveling in the hedonism the Daedric Prince was known for. Daedra worshippers, especially now, made Carolara wary but she reasoned that Sanguine's followers were relatively harmless, only interested in having a good time, as was Sanguine's way.

And they were indeed friendly, their reaction to her approach being all smiles and hugs and offers of liquor. To them, this traveler was just another person to revel with, and she accepted some brandy to soothe her aching muscles and give her a boost. It was nice to find friendly faces and it did her spirits a world of good to just drink and chat for a few minutes, after which she politely excused herself, not forgetting the urgency of her task, telling them only that she had a message to deliver to Kvatch. One of the elves told her that she would be able to see it just over a couple more hills. She proceeded on, moving a bit faster now, and the color of the clouds hinted that the sun was beginning to come up.

They were right... but her feet froze and her heart sunk as she crested the final hill.

"Oh, no..."

The walls of Kvatch were charred black, the trees outside them burned-out husks. A blaze could be seen rising above them, smoke billowing up from it and into the sky. The clouds seemed to be separated above the city, a red glow visible from the sky there, as if hell had opened up above it.

It would seem those responsible for the Emperor's death had found Martin Septim first, and they were powerful. Carolara began to run, her exhaustion forgotten for the moment. She couldn't accept this. She had to hope against hope that there were survivors and he was one of them. She was forced to go around the outside of the city, as the only gate was on the southern side and she'd approached from the north, only stopping when she heard an elven voice yell out, "You're going the wrong way!"

An Altmer was running the opposite direction, stopping and panting with his hands on his knees just a stone's throw away from Carolara. His clothes were smeared with ash. A survivor! Immediately she blurted out, "What happened? Where's Martin?"

"The Daedra!" he took her by the shoulders, shouting in a shaky, panicked voice. She shied away, hood falling back onto her shoulders, afraid to make any sudden movements by the look on his face. "Daedra overran Kvatch in the night! There were glowing portals outside the walls... Gates to Oblivion itself!" The elf kept on, pausing every so often to gasp for air. "There was a huge creature... something out of a nightmare... came right over the walls... blasting fire. They swarmed around it... killing..."

Carolara stared up at the city in horror and began to run again, ignoring the Altmer's shouts to turn back. Her heart was pounding in fear but she couldn't turn away. She had to know for certain. Once she hit the road, she saw a small encampment and made her way toward it. A group of people, some wounded but all of them ashy as the fleeing elf had been, huddled around a fire in grim silence. She slowed to a walk, getting her breath back and approaching them cautiously.

"Excuse me," the Breton spoke, and a few of them didn't even look at her. "Is there a man named Martin among you?"

A golden-headed Nord woman in a blue dress that had once been quite beautiful spoke up first, "If you mean the priest, I don't think he made it out of the city. Very few of us did."

"Haven't seen him around the camp," said an Orc, crossing her arms.

Carolara sighed, cursing under her breath and plopping down into a sit, heart heavy with the thought that she'd failed to protect both Septims, joining the refugees in their silent despair. But after a few moments a Redguard man among them spoke up. "You might ask Matius."

"Matius?" she echoed.

"Savlian Matius," said the Nord. "He's in charge of what's left of the city guard defending this camp. They're still holding the Daedra back, at a barricade up the hill."

The spark of hope was dim, but renewed, and she got back up. Still riding her adrenaline, Carolara made her way up the hill. The rain ceased as she entered the cloudless area over Kvatch, and she could see the red sky when she looked up. The closer she got, the more it smelled like soot and sulfur, a powerful combination that turned her stomach.

At the top of the hill, where the earth was charred and black, stood an oval-shaped fiery portal framed in unnatural black stone. It was nearly as tall as the city walls, blocking entry into Kvatch. Corpses of Daedra, guard and civilian lay scattered between where she stood and the hellish portal. There were only three guardsmen alive. Exhausted and jumpy, they at first leveled their bows at her when they heard her approach from behind but quickly lowered them.

One of them approached her, and from the way he carried himself Carolara presumed correctly that this was Salvian Matius. "This is no place for you, civilian." He pointed down the hill. "Get back to the encampment at once!"

"I'm here on Blades business, actually. What..." She looked around, wide-eyed, still stunned at the level of devastation. "What happened?"

Salvian gave her a look that suggested he didn't think too highly of her intellect after a question like that, but she was too tired and frightened to be very eloquent. "We lost the damn city, that's 'what happened'!" He snapped, and Carolara winced. "It was too much, too fast. We were overwhelmed. Couldn't even get everyone out. There are still people trapped in there."

The Breton perked up, staring off toward the blocked city gate. More survivors... that meant there was a chance.

"Some made it into the Chapel," the acting guard captain was saying, "but others were just run down in the streets. The Count and his men are still holed up in the castle. And now we can't even get back into the city to help them, with that damned Oblivion Gate blocking the way."

Carolara crossed her arms and turned away, Salvian walking back over to his two remaining men. She was silent for some time, mind racing, no idea what to do. There was no getting into the city, but the longer she waited, the more likely it was that there wouldn't be anyone left to rescue. Still without a clue as to how she could assist, she volunteered. "How can I help?"

He slowly turned to face her, and she could feel them all scrutinizing her. "You want to help? You're kidding, right? You look as terrified as a cornered deer."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't," the Breton replied with a dry chuckle. She then lifted her bow. "But if I turn my back on this it'll haunt me forever. I have to try. I'm fast, and a good shot. I'll do whatever I can."

Salvian glanced at his men, who shrugged, and then back to Carolara. "Hmm… if you're serious, maybe I can put you to use. It'll likely mean your death, though. Are you sure?"

She shivered, and her knees felt a bit weak at those words, but she nodded anyway.

He nodded firmly. "I guess I've got no choice. We're the only line of defense between the Gate and the encampment, so we're stuck here at this barricade. I sent men into the Gate, to see if they could find a way to shut it. They haven't come back, and I can't spare anyone to find them. Get in there, find out what happened to them." A grim look over to the Gate, "I won't think less of you if you decline."

"No no," Carolara tried to keep her voice steady, eyeing the fiery portal. "I... I accept. So I just, what... walk through and it'll take me to Oblivion?" Her grasp on her bow tightened, attempting to force the shaking of her fingers to cease. The longer she looked, the worse it seemed, and every instinct was telling her to flee. But her heart knew better. Innocent people were in danger, and one of them was the last of the beloved Septim line. "And then we close it somehow from within?"

"That's right," Salvian replied. "I don't know how to close this Gate, but it must be possible, because the enemy closed the ones they opened during the initial attack. The best I can say is, good luck. If you make it back alive, we'll be waiting for you."

Wishing very much that she'd had a chance to get some sleep, Carolara began the careful walk to the Gate, trying not to look at the corpses she picked her way over. If she somehow survived, she told herself, she would shell out for the most comfortable inn in all of Cyrodill and spend an entire day curled up in a soft bed. Oh yes, that sounded like paradise.

Such thoughts were small comfort, however, as she stood before the towering Oblivion Gate, reached out a trembling hand to touch the flaming portal- and vanished from Tamriel.