Little note, Tamriel is about the size of Africa, giving them the ability to field larger armies and such, so it makes more sense, thought the river into Cyrodil will remain the same size.
Wenvyr, Admiral of the Aldemri Navy, and renowned hero in all of the Summerset Isles…had failed.
Around him, he watched as his ships began to sink, pulled below the water by great tentacles of metal. It had all gone so wrong, so fast. He looked to the horizon, catching sight of the enemy fleet, and shivered.
Monstrous black ships, without sails and pointed at their head, a massive beast of a ship serving as the leader, bigger than some castles the Admiral had seen. Its figurehead, a great dragon with wings spread, only served to make the Altmer shutter, for up above, the skies blazed with dragon fire.
Hours later, he was dragged up from the driftwood he clung to, and men in suits of Ebony armor dragged him away, chaining him up.
Are you even flesh? He thought, for he too had heard the tales on the mainland, of how their Khajit allies had been utterly defeated by an army of metal men, all in Ebony. The tales made him shutter, memories of Dwemer constructs tearing his allies apart, and even a few friends. If the Dragonborn was able to not only create such things, but make them out of Ebony as well?
Divines save us, our pride will be our doom Wenvyr thought, as he was dragged across the deck. Taking him inside the ship, past the holding cells, he was brought into a room, a black glass wall overlooking the sea where his fleet lay shattered.
On a red carpet was a desk, a chair turned around towards the window wall, and Wenvyr knew who was sitting there. After being dragged into the middle of the cabin, moments of silence passed, before a voice spoke out. Deep, ancient, and deadly.
"I once dreamed of being an Altmer." Slowly, the chair turned, and Wenvyr held back a shiver.
Scales as black as night, under a tunic of grey and a coat of black, stretched taut over bulging muscles. Deadly amber eyes studied the Altmer, a thick tail twisting and turning around them, a tail longer and larger than any Argonian's had a right to be.
"When I had first seen an Altmer, a baker at a shop in Cyrodil, I had wished to be one. You all were so tall, so fair, and thanks to that women, I had thought you all so kind as well." They stood up, and Wenvyr gulped when he saw how tall they were, the ceiling just a foot or two away from their head.
They crouched down, amber meeting sea green, and their once calm and expressionless face morphed into one of fury, "And then I went there, and I went home weeping. Why? WHY?! Why do you all hate us so much!? WHAT HAVE WE DONE TO YOU!?" Wenvyr winced when they roared, the Dovahkiin's voice melding into his Voice.
"Everywhere I went, I was shunned, insulted, and even attacked by your people! And for what? My scales? My horns? My tail? Why? You Altmer claim to be descended from the Aedra, yes?" Wenvyr was worried now, as he noticed a fire beginning to burn in their eyes, but still he nodded.
"What kind of Aedra did you descend from then? Zenithar? I see no reason he would hate our kind, for we craft and work like any others. Mara? How could one who loves so dearly ever hate others? Stendarr? He is of mercy, how could he warrant such pain? Julianos? There is no logic in hating us, nor wisdom in making us your enemies. Arkay? We forsake and honor the dead as much as anyone else. Akatosh? The dragon god has no need to hate us! So, tell me, you oh so divine Altmer, descendant of the Aedra themselves! Who. Is. Your. God?" Their final words, the question, was spoken so silently, all but whispered to the Wenvyr, that he barely heard it.
But he did hear it, and with a terror in his heart, he could not answer.
The Dragonborn sighed, "It is clear you have no answer, and I fear I will never receive an answer…but I can answer one thing. Are the Aedra pleased with you?" he leaned in so close, his nose touching his own, and when he looked into those amber eyes, all he saw was a dragon.
I think not
"Since the dawn of all our existence, since Man first walked, Elves first breathed, and Beast first learned, you Altmer had seen yourselves as the alpha, the dominant species….and have angered me in doing so." The crowd of Altmer, the people of Alinor, could do nothing, but watch in terror as he spoke, a horde of monsters behind them.
"I will not deny that some of you do not deserve a punishment, but your people have done much to earn it, and as a whole, you shall be punished." A howl from one of the demons, a creature that looked like a sabertooth, but was bigger than a horse, made the crowd shiver, a single red eye staring them all down.
"The details can be worked out by my men here," he motioned to a line of officers, plumes of red feathers on their Ebony helms, a swooping eagle on the armors forehead, "but for you all to understand…you have treated everyone else like dirt, so you shall be treated the same." And thus, men, women, and children were punished, all while the Thalmor watched, some chained, some crucified, but all watching, as their people were treated like they had treated all others.
Karma had never felt so strong before.
4E, 256, First Seed, Mundas, The Day of Tears
Named so as the opposite of the Night of Tears, Altmer being the near destroyed instead of the Nords.
~o(O)o~
First Battle
Forces: Ebony Legion against forces of Firsthold, Skywatch, and Cloudrest
Type: Naval Battle
Numbers: Ebony Legion: 300 ships, 14,000 men 14 Krakens, 12 Leviathans, 2 Sentinels
Aldmeri Dominion: 600 ships, 50,000 men
Outcome: Total victory
Casualties: Ebony Legion: 15 ships, 1 Kraken
Aldmeri Dominion: 436 ships, 36,830 men
Note: Make sure to work on speeches, and do maintenance on Sentinels, sea water doesn't do well with the smaller cogs.
!Hope you enjoyed!
!See you all in the next chapter!
