Diplomatic Shambles
Emperor Martin Septim II was sitting in the same room he used for his previous meeting with the Thalmor Ambassador. He even sat in the same chair he used when the Ambassador was introduced. He was expecting this meeting to not go so well. He managed to get a leg up on the Ambassador in their previous meeting and he rightly assumed that his adversary would be better prepared for this meeting.
The Ambassador was announced with a flourish, and seemed a little taken aback by the meeting location. He quickly recovered and offered greetings, less flowery this time, to the Emperor of Tamriel.
Martin rose in greeting. "Ahh, Mr. Zenl, welcome back, my friend."
"Emperor Septim, thank you for meeting with me again. I'm afraid I bring grave concerns with me this time. We've had reports that you are mobilizing your troops, possibly gearing up for war. Pray tell, what is the reasoning behind this?" The ambassador asked.
"Mobilizing troops? What?" Martin was truly caught off guard, then he realized what the ambassador was referring to. "Oh! No, we are not mobilizing anything. You of all people know how devastated our legions were after the war. The rebellion in Skyrim has only made things worse. We are simply trying to recover from the disaster that we faced."
"I see. And what of Hammerfell? Might you be sending troops there?"
"Hammerfell? Why would I do that? I am trying to reconcile relations with them. Sending troops would have the exact opposite effect." Martin explained.
"You can see how those two reports would cause some…concern…among the Thalmor, no?" Zenl stated.
"I can see that," Martin conceded. "Once your leaders arrive, I assure you, I will do everything I can to put their concerns to rest.
"Yes, about that," Zenl replied. "The leaders of the Aldmeri Dominion wish me to inform you that they have decided now is not the best time for an in person meeting. They have granted your servant the authority necessary to complete any and all negotiations."
"That is most unfortunate," Martin said. "Why have they rejected my proposal for a meeting?"
"They have not rejected anything, Emperor Septim, they have simply decided that now is not the best time for an in person meeting."
"Diplomatic speak for rejecting my offer. I remind you that I am not a diplomat, I am a warrior. Their rejection is most unfortunately. Coupled with your invasion of Skyrim, I am also…concerned…about your nation's intentions towards the Empire."
"Invasion of Skyrim? No, sir. We have found that such an invasion never took place. In fact rumors of the battle were just that…rumors. I mean really, Dragon coming to the aid of humans? Preposterous! That alone should have shown the lack of veracity of the story. No, Emperor Septim, I'm afraid there was no such occurrence." Zenl said very smugly.
Martin was disappointed, but not surprised by the Thalmor Ambassador's response. He called Legate Adlis into the room. "Legate, would you please recount your report for the good Ambassador," he said.
"Wait," the Ambassador interrupted. "Who is this?"
"This is Legate Aldis of the tenth legion. He was in command of the company that your soldiers attacked outside Skyhaven Temple when you invaded Skyrim."
"The invasion is a LIE!" Zenl shouted.
Martin was taken aback by the outburst. He did not think the Thalmor ever lost their composure. "Please, settle down, Mr. Ambassador. We have firsthand accounts from the survivors as well, as the bodies of your soldiers, and other artifacts from your army. You cannot deny the truth."
"Fabrications, all of it, to be used as a pretense for war!" Zenl exclaimed.
"No, Ambassador, we do not want war with the Aldmeri Dominion. We want peace. A true and lasting peace between our two peoples. However, let me be very clear on this point. I am not Titus Mede and I will not be bullied into submission. I have offered to open a dialogue with your leadership and they have refused me. I have even offered to overlook your invasion of Skyrim and you insult me. If there is to be a peace between our nations, it will be a mutually beneficial peace. Not a one sided peace where the Aldmeri Dominion dictate terms and demand compliance. Mr. Ambassador, you once cautioned me to choose my words carefully. I know caution you, choose your actions, carefully."
Mr. Zenl was indignant. "I will not be lectured to by some pretender! You are a lowly grunt, a usurper, you are nothing and I will not be ignored! It is you who need to choose your actions carefully. Titus Mede tried to take a stand and we nearly destroyed him. Consider your options very carefully, Mr. Septim."
Martin had had enough. "Mul...Qah…DIIV!"
Any arrogance or feelings of superiority Zenl had fled immediately when he saw the Emperor enshrouded by the ghostly form.
"I am no lowly grunt. I. Am. DRAGONBORN!" The whole room shook at the pronouncement. Zenl was struggling to maintain his composure, while Martin continued in a normal voice, "I am not afraid of the Thalmor. I will not be bullied by the Thalmor. I command the power of Dragons. I command Dragons to fight by my side. I am not gearing of for war, but if one, single Thalmor soldier crosses the border, it will spell the end of the Aldmeri Dominion. Are we clear Mr. Zenl?"
Zenl could only nod.
"Effective immediately, all Thalmor are banned from the Empire. You have 24 hours to remove all personnel from all embassies. All traders and merchants are to leave. If you leaders wish to discuss relations, they may come here themselves to discuss, but you are no longer welcome in this city or in this Empire. You are dismissed."
Mr. Zenl lost all composure, "You are a traitor to your own people, you tree hugger!"
Now Martin was offended and lost his composure. "I have one last message for you take to your leaders, goldenrod," he replied.
"Fus…Ro…DAH! "
The shout sent Ambassador Zenl flying backwards as he tumbled like a ragoll, head over heels all the way to the door of the chamber.
Zenl got up uneasily, barely regained his composure and got in the last word before leaving. "I swear to you, that you have doomed yourself and your Empire," he spat on his way out.
Once he was gone, Lydia and Lornus both came out of their respective corners.
"No offense intended, my liege," Lornus began.
"But I could have handled that better," Martin agreed. "Not my best moment."
"I fear you have made war a certainty," Lornus said.
"No, Lornus, war already was a certainty. Zenl came here to dictate terms of our surrender, not to negotiate any peace. The Thalmor planned on invading the Empire as soon as Mede was assassinated. You were right about them denying their invasion ever happened. Trust that I am right when I tell you they have always planned on taking over the Empire. They want to be the new power on Nirn. That will be their undoing."
Lornus nodded. "Instructions, sire?"
"Send for General Jonna. Have the rest of the generals deploy their legions as planned. When the Thalmor invade, I fully plan on being ready."
The Foxes Gather
Martin was wearing his nightingale armor and a dark, hooded cloak. The sun had set, so it appeared as if the hood portion of the cloak was empty. That elicited a strange look or two, but most people simply paid no attention, especially in the waterfront section of the city.
Lydia had gone on ahead and met him at the Silver Fox. The two of them were ushered to the basement by a "server" who was actually a high ranking member of the Cyrodiil Thieves Guild.
Vex, Delvin and the Gray Fox were waiting for them in the basement. The current master of the Cyrodiil Thieves' Guild was wearing the Cowl of Nocturnal, albeit for show, but it still had the desired effect. The Gray Fox had long been a symbol, even to the Skyrim Thieves' Guild, but both Vex and Delvin were a little surprised to find the myth was real.
Delvin quickly greeted Martin when he sat at the table. "So, you weren't kidding afterall. I'll be a skeever's tail. How's being emperor?"
Martin chuckled, "Well, let just say I now understand why Brynjolf keeps passing up being master of the Thieves' Guild in Skyrim."
Delvin chuckled in response. Even Vex showed a half smile.
With the pleasantries over, the Gray Fox got right down to business. "Martin has requested this meeting, so I will let him take the lead. My liege?"
"Liege, eh? You've moved up, lad." Vex remarked, speaking for the first time.
Martin ignored the sarcasm and got right to it. "As you all have heard, we are on the brink of another war with the Thalmor. As you all know, war is bad for business. I aim to keep the war as short as possible. That is where you all come in. Vex, you and Delvin have contacts in High Rock and Morrowind…" He turned towards the Gray Fox. "You never did tell me your real name."
The Gray Fox smiled, but said nothing.
Martin smiled and continued. "Very well, Mr. Fox. You have contacts in Hammerfell and Black Marsh. What's more, you have at least one contact in the Aldmeri Dominion. I have placed my own operative there, but that is the extent of my intelligence network. I'm afraid my predecessor was completely lacking in that regard. The Thalmor have a huge network and I have one operative. So, I aim to institute an empire-wide Thieves' Guild Conglomerate."
"Wait, I thought you said we'd maintain our autonomy," the Gray Fox reminded him. "Ever since there have been Thieves' Guilds, each province has operated on its own. Some more successful than others, granted, but still. We've always been independent."
"Technically, you still will," Martin replied. "I'm not looking to merge all the guilds into one big megaguild. But, I am looking to increase collaboration. That's not entirely unheard of."
"But even if what you say is true," Vex cut in, "Empire-wide, the Thieves' Guilds have all taken a turn for the worse. You witnessed firsthand the condition we were in. The guild in Morrowind was all but wiped out by the Argonians. The guild in High Rock is long past its glory days with the succession of Hammerfell."
"And you witnessed firsthand how much I did to help restore the guild in Skyrim. I'm now in a position to help guilds all over Tamriel. Soon there will even be a resurgence in Valenwood and Elsweyr. First, I will make inter-provincial travel much easier. That will help you all move goods and people around as you see fit. It will also allow you all to assist the remnants of the Thieves' guild in Morrowind." Martin explained.
"The Comonna Tong won't like that," Delvin observed.
"The Comonna Tong were just as decimated as the Thieves' Guild, they were just better at hiding it," the Gray Fox informed him.
"Plus," Martin interjected, "with the right push and right level of support, the Thieves' Guild can overcome any resistance from competitors. Maybe you can burn their banners."
Delvin laughed, Vex rolled her eyes, and the Gray Fox looked confused.
"Never mind," Martin said, "my point is. You all are in a unique position. You have the ability to greatly expand your operations…all it will take is a bit more collaborating then you are used to."
"And reporting to you, I supposed," The Gray Fox observed dryly.
"In manner, yes, but not exactly. Cyrodiil is central, and as such, it makes sense for the Gray Fox to be the central clearing house for information. Vex, Delvin, I'd you two to talk to Brynjolf and assign a liaison to travel back and forth between Riften and Imperial City. Mr. Fox, you will liaise with Lydia. She's quickly established herself as a regular and your humble tavern, so that should not be an issue."
"And what of the other provinces?" Delvin asked.
"I'd like you all to provide whatever support is needed to Morrowind and High Rock, Devlin." Martin then turned to the Gray Fox, "And I'd like you to support Elsweyr and Valenwood after they are liberated. Also, start putting out feelers in Black Marsh, but be cautious, there's a lot of leftover resentment there."
"You've given us a lot to chew on. Is there anything else?" Delvin said.
"Yes, I would like you to arrange a meeting between Kharjo and myself. Please talk to Ri'saad and make it happen."
"Wait," Vex cut in, "Kharjo is part of Ahkari's caravan."
"Yes, but they all work for Ri'saad, don't they?"
Vex nodded.
"Good, I don't know Ahkari as well as I know the other two," Martin admitted. "Send word to Ri'saad, but give Ahkari a heads up too. I don't want to alienate anyone."
Both Vex and Delvin nodded, then got up to leave.
"It's good to see you, lad," Delvin said, "don't forget about us lowlifes in the Ratway now that you're all high and mighty."
Martin and Delvin chuckled. Vex rolled her eyes again. "Come on, we need to get back," she suggested to Delvin.
Once the pair had left, Martin tuned towards the Gray Fox. "So what is your real name, anyway? Surely the patrons here don't call you the Gray Fox"
The Gray Fox smiled again. "I actually have a different name in each province. However, here they call me Lucious, owner and proprietor of the Silver Fox."
"Good to know, Lucious. You've done a great job and maintaining and keeping cover. I can use a man like you in a more official, but still under cover, position."
"What do you mean?"
"I was being completely honest when I said I have no intelligence network. Given the clouds of war that are rapidly approaching, I need to develop one, and quickly."
"I thought that was what this meeting was about?" Lucious asked.
"It was, and all information will be flowing through you. I expect you'll make use of your network and the piece together information with what you receive from Skyrim's network. I'd like to make things more official."
"Are you looking to charter the Thieves' Guild? As far as I can recall, that has never been done, not in all the history of Tamriel!" Lucious proclaimed.
"No," Martin shook his head, "The Empire has always looked the other way and that is all I am going to do…for the guild, that is. What do you know of the Blades?"
"Only what I've read in books. They've been completely wiped out, as far as I know."
"Not exactly. A small number have survived. I am leveraging their knowledge to rebuild the Blades. I've got a good base right now, but I'm hurting when it comes to intelligence gathering." Marin explained.
"And you want me to join the Blades then?" Lucious found it hard to believe.
"Yes, at a high level. You will oversee all the intelligence operations for the Empire."
Lucious shook his head, "I don't know. I am happy to leverage my network to help out a fellow Guild Master, and of course, I'm willing to serve my Emperor, but going legit?"
"Well, you won't be 'going legit.' You'll still be Lucious, owner/operator of the Silver Fox and you'll still be the Gray Fox. None of your guildmates, nor contacts, will know. Still, I don't need an answer now." Martin and Lydia rose to leave. "Think on it. Let me know."
Contact Made
The Oak and Sky, Arenthia
Zeno Mor was walking through the Merchant quarter. He appeared to be casually strolling down the road, when he was actually looking for a very specific shoppe. The store in question was next to a tavern called Shady Acres. He went into the tavern first, ordered some food and nonchalantly looked around the place while he ate.
Nobody paid him any heed as he ate, nor as he got up to leave. He went across the way into a book store, browsed the titles for a while, glancing over the books occasionally. Nobody here paid any attention to him, save the Bosmer behind the counter who asked if he needed any help. Satisfied nobody was following him, he left the book store.
He went across the way to the Oak and Sky. It was a general store, but a fairly nondescript one. It was not high class, nor was it a poor shoppe. Zeno walked in to see a variety of tools, some books, some weapons and various other nick knacks. There were a few bowls, some alchemical ingredients and a set of calipers on the counter. The charming fellow behind the counter greeting him cheerfully.
Zeno returned the greeting and approached the counter. "I'm looking for a statue of Nocturnal, do you, per chance, happen to have any?"
The shopkeeper smiled. "They're hidden in the shadows," he said and then laughed at his own "joke."
Zeno laughed politely in response.
"We do have some in our basement, if you would be so kind as to follow me?" The shopkeeper said as he opened a door and descended the stairs.
Once they were both in the basement, the shopkeeper locked the door and motioned to a small round table, with a few chairs around it. Zeno took a seat, followed by the shopkeeper.
"So, what can this humble shopkeeper do for the Gray Fox today?"
Zeno was taken aback. He assumed, incorrectly, that the shopkeeper was making reference to the Emperor, and thus concluded, again incorrectly, that the Emperor was the Gray Fox, or leader of the Thieves' Guild in Cyrodiil.
"There are dark clouds on the horizon, my friend," Zeno began. "The Gray Fox will be in need of certain types of…information."
"What types of information? Surely he does not expect me to betray my own people?"
"Your own people? No. But are the Thalmor your own people? Have they really improved things for the Bosmer? Can you be sure they aren't just using you to get to Cyrodiil?"
"But…but…you're Altmer…how can you speak against the Thalmor?" The shopkeeper asked.
"Who says I am speaking against them? And what if I was. Surely, you must know that not all in Summerset support the Thalmor. Just as not all in Valenwood do." Zeno was treading a fine line, but he was gambling the shopkeeper did not support the Thalmor.
His gamble paid off. Though the shopkeeper was very cautious in his response. "I have heard there are some who may not fully embrace the Thalmor. There may be others who might even wish them gone, but it's just rumors, mind you."
"Of course," Zeno replied. "Speaking of rumors…"
"Rumor has it, that the Ambassador has just returned, and he was not happy. I fear those dark clouds my gather sooner than anticipated."
It was time for Zeno to be more direct. "Will the Thalmor launch an invasion into the Empire?" he asked.
The shopkeeper seemed unphased by the direct question. "Why would the Gray Fox concern himself with military matters?"
"Simply put," Zeno replied, "War is bad for business. With cross border trading cut off and increased patrols on both sides, smuggling is out of the question, even sharing information can be difficult. It seems preventing it is now out of the question, so the best course of action would be ensuring it comes to a quick conclusion, would it not?"
The shopkeeper agreed. A good portion of his income came from his dealings with the Gray Fox, be it information or goods, legal and otherwise.
"So what would you like me to do?" the shopkeeper asked.
"Same thing you've always done," Zeno observed, "keep your eyes and ears open. Share what you've learned. I'll be your main contact for now."
"Well, what I can tell you know is that the Thalmor have an entire division garrisoned in this city, with another division split up into smaller camps in the immediate area. Word is they have a third division down near Silvernar. They have a few divisions in Elsweyr too. Things could get real ugly real quick."
Zeno was quiet, absorbing what the shopkeeper was saying. When he was finished he remained silent for a moment before speaking, "I believe I will be a frequent customer of yours, as well as the tavern next door. I won't always want to chat, sometimes simply to browse, others to sell, and others to buy. Now, if you would excuse me, I have business to attend to."
"It's nice to have a new customer, especially one that will be a regular," the shopkeeper replied. "I'll show you out."
The Palace, Arenthia
Niryi was sitting at the table on the dais, where a throne would normally be. The Administrator eschewed the throne and ornaments, but he enjoyed sitting and working in an area where he was literally higher than everyone else. His work was interrupted when Zeno entered the hall.
"May I approach, my lord?" he asked.
Niryi motioned for him to do so and Zeno took a seat at the table. Once he was seated, Niryi addressed him, "It seems your information on Legion movements panned out. It also makes sense that if the Emperor is the Listener, the Dark Brotherhood would not assassinate him. Pity, that worked out so well with his predecessor."
Zeno smiled slightly, but said nothing.
"Tell me, Zeno, how things went down the second time." Niryi instructed
"Gavurus was a fool," Zeno stated. "Last time, we sent Motierre to negotiate with the Dark Brotherhood directly. This time, Gavurus insisted on performing the Black Sacrament. He was overconfident and arrogant and that was his undoing."
"Gavurus was expendable," Niryi replied. "It was a marriage of convenience, nothing more. Still, if Martin Septim, as he now styles himself, truly is the Listener for the Dark Brotherhood, that will give us a major propaganda victory."
"To that end," Zeno added, "There is more. Apparently, the grand emperor is also the Gray Fox."
"Bah! The Gray Fox is a myth! Something the Imperials use to scare their children."
Zeno sighed. "Yes, the Gray Fox is a myth. However, the master of the Thieves' Guild has been using that title for centuries to keep that myth alive. Our dear Martin Septim is that Guildmaster."
"How?" Niryi asked. "He only just arrived in Cyrodiil."
"Ah, but no. He entered Skyrim from Cyrodiil, where he was captured by the legion and about to be executed. Word is, it was his head on the block when the dragon attacked Helgen. So you see, my dear Niryi, it is quite possible."
Niryi, though for a moment. "I'll need to consider this. You've done us a great service. You are dismissed."
First Drop
In the hills of Cyrodiil, just outside of Leyawiin and near the border with Elsweyr, a legion patrol was scouting the area. The small group came upon a stump that looked slightly out of place.
"That's it," one of them said.
Another went over to inspect and sure enough, it was hollowed up. There as a small lockbox inside it which held the imperial seal.
The patrol returned to their camp and handed over the box to the camp commander. The camp commander quickly dispatched it to his Cohort Tribune. The Tribune, in turn, promptly left for Imperial City where he turned the package over to his commanding general.
War room, White Gold Tower
Martin was in the war room when the Tribune arrived. The room was a little less Spartan now. It had a large table in the middle, with several smaller tables and chests along the walls. Large maps of the continent and each province adorned the walls, and some of the tables held smaller maps.
Lydia, Hadvar and Tullius were with him at the moment. They were awaiting General Jonna. Bad news arrived shortly after the Tribune arrived.
General Jonna's aid didn't waste any time. "The General is gravely ill, my Liege."
"Take me to him," Martin commanded.
The Legate lead the way. Martin and Tullius followed him all the way to the Nobles District* where General Jonna had his house.
The Generals house was large, as was befitting his status, but it was not as ornate. The lower level rooms had tables and display cases that held artifacts from his various campaigns. There were also some mannequins outfitted with the various types of Imperial Legion Armor that he had worn over the many years of his service.
The group moved through the lower level, and up the stairs to the General's bedroom. Jonna was lying under the covers and a healer was seated next to him.
"My liege, I regret my current condition," Jonna said.
"What's wrong, General?" Martin asked.
"What's wrong? I'm old." Jonna half chuckled, half coughed.
"What's the prognosis?" Tullius asked the healer.
"I can help with his current malady, but I would think his field days are over." The healer replied.
"May I have the room, please," Martin requested. Everyone except Tullius left. "Jonna, you have served this empire more than anyone could have asked. By all rights you have earned a comfortable retirement, but with another Thalmor war approaching, I really need your expertise, knowledge and experience."
"My liege," Jonna replied, "it is always an honor to serve, but fighting wars is a young man's game. I'm afraid the healer is right. My days of leading men on the field of battle have long since passed. General Tullius here is very capable and would be an excellent leader for the first legion in my stead."
Martin nodded and thought for a moment before responding. "General, I have full confidence in Tullius, and your endorsement speaks volumes. Perhaps there is a way for you to serve still, without the strain of travel and field life. We need a singular head for all over our legions, someone to coordinate and to advise. Would you be willing to fill this roll? I would name you Praetor of the Imperial Legion. I do not require an answer now. Please, think on it while you recover. We'll talk when you are back on your feet."
"I'm honored at such a request, my liege. Thank you."
Author's Note: Thank you all for your continued support and for helping me with typos that I have missed. I do my best to proof each chapter before I post, but sometimes I miss things. If you notice something, please do not hesitate to send me a message and I will fix it as quickly as I can. I am still collecting votes on what to do with Delphine. Message me your opinion: She she be redeemed? Punished? Allowed to retire gracefully? Let me know...the option with most votes will be incorporated into the next chapter of the story.