21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 965

The Siege of Whiterun

"Push onward!" Mavla yelled, motioning with her sword hand. While she was rallying soldiers forward, a mage sent a fireball bursting towards her, which she stopped with her enchanted shield. As she blocked that spell, the soldier closest to her was struck in the chest by an ice spear.

Suvren charged the spellsword who had killed the soldier next to Mavla, dodging a lightning bolt and cutting with his sword, which was parried off. Suvren bashed the enemy with his shield, and then cut into his neck, and then falling back to rejoin the line of soldiers.

"Shields down - archers fire!" Titertius yelled. The line in front kneeled down with their shields forming a wall, and the archers behind them cast in unison at the enemy. A few of the arrows were stopped in mid air by some of the more skilled mages, while some of them successfully met their targets, and several missed their targets outright.

The Legionnaires pressed on, pushing the enemy back to the city gates. When the situation became dire, a few of the mages tried to get back into the city, but they were killed before they could open the gate again. When the Legion made its way within the walls of the city, Titertius turned his head to his soldiers.

"Don't let up!" He yelled. "I want every last one of these invaders killed. We're taking no prisoners here!"

He meant to send a message to anyone who dared to attack the Empire, but his message would inevitably not reach anyone of importance on this day.

Imperial City

Viator sat upon his throne and was met by his courier, stating that the Legion was now likely laying siege upon Whiterun as they spoke.

"Very good," he said. "You are dismissed until further notice."

The only other person in the room was Viator's closest advisor, Avenick Cecusiso. He stood to the right of Viator, who was thinking deeply on matters regarding the Elder Scroll that supposedly prophesied the end of the Empire he ruled over.

"Avenick," he began, "do you know why the Elder Council of the year 202 in the Fourth Era hunted the Dragonborn after hearing this prophecy?"

Avenick, with his hands behind his back, angled his head to talk to Viator. "I mean, I wasn't there. I assume it was because they feared his power. With power comes a desire to rule, does it not?" He asked.

Viator kicked his right leg over his left knee, and replied, "The Septim bloodline - they were all Dragonborn. This Empire was created by a Dragonborn, and it was ruled by the descendents of Tiber Septim until the Oblivion Crisis."

Avenick, somewhat confused, asked Viator, "So they thought that because the Empire was created by the Dragonborn, it might be ended by one as well?"

Viator turned his head fully to Avenick, and said, "Precisely. My family was never meant to rule the Empire. This was originally the Empire of the Dragonborns. Especially after Titus Mede was assassinated - the Elder Council believed that the Dragonborn would reclaim the throne which is, from a certain point of view, his right."

Avenick was growing even more confused as Viator went on. He asked, "Why do you bring this up now?"

"You see, the Last Dragonborn saved the world - and, by effect, this Empire, three times. There was a mistake," Viator said. "The Dragonborn was the only thing that could save us. The Dragonborn's presence ensured that the Empire of the Dragonborn would survive, regardless of whether he actually ruled over it."

"What are you saying?" Avenick asked.

Viator, taking a glass of wine from the table beside him and sipping it, said, "I don't know what exactly lies waiting in Whiterun. But I can tell you this: "If this man is truly something beyond an ordinary man's power, and he reaches the Imperial City, there won't be a Dragonborn to save us this time."

The room, in a very dark mood, grew quiet as Viator sipped his wine, imagining what might be going on in Whiterun at that exact moment.

Whiterun

The carnage was taking its toll on the city. Bodies lay motionless in the streets, which were pooling with blood. Yet the fighting continued. Some of the buildings were ablaze, and the priests and priestesses could not heal all of the wounded soldiers that were being brought to them.

"We need to end this," Titertius said to Mavla and Suvren, all of whom were using their shields to protect archers. "I need to get to Dragonsreach before anyone can plan an escape. Are you two coming with me?" He asked.

Suvren turned his head to Titertius, and replied, "You two go. I'll continue leading the soldiers through the roads." He turned to face Mavla. "The leader of this cult is your fight."

Titertius nodded and waved his archer back, and then motioned for Mavla to follow him onto the nearest side road. They were quickly attacked by a spellsword, who Titertius parried the attack of, which was followed by a stab to the heart from Mavla's blade.

They proceeded down the road, which featured more than a few terrified citizens peering windows. When they made it into the Wind District, they surprised to see nobody on the sideroads. They had figured alternate routes to Dragonsreach would be more closely guarded.

After dispatching a few more mages and spellswords when they came back to the main road, they proceeded up to the ascent to the Cloud District.

"We've gotten to the Cloud District - where are the people guarding it?" Mavla asked.

"They're either all fighting in the Plains District, in which case their forces are much less than I thought, or they're all in Dragonsreach itself," Titertius asked.

They went up the stairs, and still they were met with no opposition. Things were too quiet in their area for Mavla's liking. When they got to the bridge however, mages and spellswords were waiting for them. Titertius met one of them with his shield, bashing a spellsword that charged him and slashing his throat. As he killed the spellsword, however, he was hit in the leg with a firebolt, causing him to stagger in intense pain. Mavla rushed to his side, fending off attacks at both of them as Titertius reached deep inside of himself for the strength to carry on.

Titertius dropped his sword on the ground and fired a fireball at the mages, exploding in their faces and killing two. He grabbed his sword again and got to his feet, finding strength to push on at least temporarily.

Mavla and Titertius moved closer to the remaining adversaries, who now totalled just two spellswords. Titertius, leaning on his left leg, dodged an attack to that side and nearly fell, regaining his balance just in time to block a slash with his shield. His retaliation was blocked by a sword, but Titertius followed with another slash at the leg, which connected. As Mavla dispatched a spellsword herself, Titertius ruthlessly thrust the sword through the fallen enemy's chest.

"Are you ready?" He asked Mavla, pulling the sword out of the chest.

Mavla turned her head to the doors of Dragonsreach, and said, "I guess we're about to find out."

Mavla and Titertius pushed open the doors of Dragonsreach, and the hall was entirely empty - except for one person, who sat upon the throne. They approached the man, who was cloaked in black and had an air of mystery to him.

"Who are you?" Mavla asked him. "Are you prepared to surrender or die?"

The man upon the throne laughed. "You're too late," he said. "You cannot stop what is to come."

Mavla approached the man, who didn't react to her movements yet. She then raised her shield and started charging, and slashing down at the man, the sword simply hit the throne, and the man disappeared.

There was a burst of black smoke that threw Mavla on her back, and she heard the man laughing, and she couldn't tell if it was just her imagination.

"What is this magic?" She asked.

Titertius sighed, though he too was put off by what he just witnessed. He walked to Mavla and helped her up.

"I'm afraid we aren't dealing with any ordinary maniac here," he said. "I never even thought illusion magic could be used to that extent. We're going to need some powerful mages if this...thing...is going to be stopped."

Not knowing how to respond, left blank from what had just happened, Mavla simply sheathed her sword and turned around, saying, "Let's go rejoin the rest. They've probably killed most of the remaining invaders."

Titertius followed her out of Dragonsreach, unsettled by the results of the battle. Even without, apparently, the most powerful of whatever group took Whiterun present, his Legionnaires still suffered many casualties. What would happen in a battle with the mastermind behind everything? How many men would have to die if they were to hope to stop this man?

As for Mavla, disturbed would be a light way to describe her. After all of the pain this conqueror caused her, with the death of her father, he messed with her head with magic. She thought she was about to get the chance to avenge her father, only for it to all blow up in her face.

When they reached the men and women of the Legion that had survived the battle, they tried to not show their demoralized feeling. They feared that this would become a war - and they would need to show strength to survive it.