A New Era
High in the air near Alinor
Hearthfire, 6th
Martin looked down at the land below. He was riding Odahviing and they had just crossed the mountains. Martin would never admit it, but he really enjoyed flying on the backs of dragons. The air was invigorating, the view, unmatched. As he looked below, he could see his legions encircling the city. They had received intelligence from inside the city, and they had the Thalmor greatly outnumbered, but the layout of the city was formidable enough. With the extra fortifications added, it seemed impenetrable.
That was the reason for Martin's trip. He was going to fly into the city and request an audience, on the off chance that they would be open to negotiating. He did not think they would be, but he was going to at least try. Martin looked around him briefly, seeing nearly a dozen additional dragons, and smiled to himself. If the Thalmor leadership was not willing to negotiate, perhaps he could cut down the number of Imperial Legion casualties.
There was a great consternation when Odahviing landed in the palace courtyard. He was immediately surrounded by Thalmor troops, but with four other dragons circling overhead, none of them dared make a move.
A Thalmor official walked through the circle of soldiers. Odahviing lowered his head and Martin dismounted. The official approached. "I am Commander Calinor."
"Commander, I am Emperor Martin Septim II."
"Yes. I know who you are. State your intentions."
"I seek parley under truce to talk to your leaders."
Calinor looked at Odahviing, then up at the dragons circling overhead, then back at Martin. "It appears we have little choice."
Martin smiled wanly. "Kindly ask your leaders if they are open to discussions."
"And if they say no?"
"Then I will get back on my dragon and fly away." Martin said matter of factly.
Commander Calinor was taken aback slightly, but nodded and left. He returned a few minutes later. "Our leaders have granted you an audience. You will be permitted safe passage to and from the audience chamber. Follow me and do not attempt anything untoward."
"I'll follow your instructions. Lead the way."
Calinor led Martin through a series of hallways that eventually led to set of ornate doors. The doors were made from wood and inlayed with gold. Calinor opened the doors and led Martin through them into the audience chamber. At the front of the chamber was a dais and on this dais were three, very tall chairs. Three Thalmor were sitting in these chairs.
Ondolemar was sitting in the center chair. To his right was another Justicar and to his left was Zeno Mor. Martin saw Zeno and sneered, "I won't talk with this traitor!"
Zeno had a very smug look on his face as Ondolemar motioned to the doors and said, "You are free to leave. We will grant you safe passage back to your dragon."
"I've come to offer you the chance to surrender. If you prefer I leave, then so be it."
Ondolemar scoffed, "Please, this place is well fortified. You would be hard pressed to take it by force."
"I have a dozen dragons at my command," Martin shot back. "I don't need to take this city when I can immolate the entire place."
"You should know….we've taken certain…steps…to prevent that from happening." Zeno's look became even more smug.
Martin smiled but it wasn't a friendly smile. "I know, but your spy stole a replica. The real Keening is safely locked away in the Imperial Palace."
"Impossible!" Ondolemar spat. "We tested it for magick."
Now it was Martin's turn to look smug. "You should have tested it a little better. I threw a low level soul trap enchantment on there. I wasted a perfectly good grand soul gem on it, but it appears to have been worth it."
"Our mages would have known better," Zeno insisted.
"They should have," Martin agreed, "but apparently not. I swear to you that I switched out the real Keening for a replica and took the real one to the Imperial Palace." What went unsaid during that exchange was the fact that Zeno had used some of his own illusion magic, tricking the Thalmor mages and aiding in the deception.
Ondolemar's face showed a flash of…something, Martin could not make it out. Whatever it was, it vanished and was replaced by Thalmor stoicism. "What are your terms?"
"All Thalmor Administrators on the Summerset Isles have already been replaced. Alinor is all that you control. You will immediately lay down your arms and open the gates to the city. You and The Lady Arranelya will cede power to a new government. You will be permitted safe passage out of the city, to where ever you wish to settle, but you will not be welcome in the Summerset Isles," Martin explained.
"And this new government will be your puppet?" Ondolemar asked.
"No," Martin shook his head. "The leader of the underground will be named High King of Summerset. He has the support of the people. He will put together a new government."
"That traitor?" Zeno hissed.
"And you're one to talk, Zeno?" Martin replied.
Zeno got up from his chair and approached Martin. He withdrew a dagger, grabbed Martin and put the dagger to his throat. Zeno leaned in close and whispered, "I have all the right people ready and in key places. We're all is set here in the city if they do not surrender. Now, throw me to the ground."
Martin gave the slightest of nods, and then threw Zeno down to the ground. "This is how you negotiate under a flag of truce?"
Ondolemar seemed genuinely surprised. "Zeno's actions were not sanctioned. However, and to your point, your terms are not so easy to accept. You expect us to simply give up and allow you to take control?"
Martin was still breathing heavy, but forced his anger aside. "Your government has already fallen. One way or another, there will be a transition of power. You all need to decide if you want to live through that transition."
Ondolemar tried to bluster. "We have more control than you realize. Things could be made very difficult for the new high king, and for you."
Martin wasn't having it. "You have my terms. I will have your answer by dawn tomorrow, or this entire city will burn." Martin turned and walked out without waiting for a response. Commander Calinor hurried to provide an escort back to the courtyard.
Imperial Camp, Outside Alinor
Martin was actually quite pleased with how that had turned out. He got the information he needed, and was now going over the final details with his military leaders.
"Do you think the Thalmor leadership will actually surrender?" Hadvar asked.
"No, not likely," Martin replied. "They would not even meet with me. They sent some underlings instead. Fortunately, one of them was Zeno, and he confirmed that he had people in place to…assist us…tomorrow."
"That's good," Whitestone observed. "Zeno appears to have ingratiated himself quite nicely. That will greatly aide us."
"More than that," Martin pointed out, "he's managed to cause some defections."
"Defections?" Whitestone asked.
"We've been quietly working with Zeno," Lorinor admitted. "We've supported him where needed and helped him get word out where we could. Understand, we had to be extremely careful in the capital, but between Zeno and my own people, we have managed to convince more than a few of the Thalmor officers that it would be in everyone's best interest if the Thalmor were…replaced…with a new government."
Martin was genuinely surprised. "Any chance we can coordinate?"
"We already have," Lorinor replied. "Zeno will ensure the main gates to the city are opened, and there is a company that will attack the mages and archers on one of the inner walls, if they have the opportunity."
"That's good to hear. Still, your majesty, we should plan as if we will have to fight through every soldier in the city." Whitestone advised.
"Agreed." Martin said. "Zeno will help with the main gates on the first level or two, but we'll have to push our way to the palace and that will take some time."
"Can't your dragon allies help us?" Lorinor asked.
"Yes," Martin confirmed. "They will focus on the walls and then on the palace when we get up to that level."
"I was thinking of something more direct," Lorinor mused.
"Such as?" Martin asked.
"Could your dragons not fly us to the palace? Surely a small force infiltrating the palace will be able to wreak havoc?"
"A dozen people to take the palace? I don't think that'll work. You'll be cut down or arrested," Whitestone observed.
"I was hoping each dragon could take two of us. Plus, the warrior…I believe you call him 'The Ebony Warrior.' He is in the Palace district."
"What? How do you know this?" Martin was more and more surprised.
"I've only been in charge for a few months," Lorinor explained, "but the underground has had a network in place for years. It's just that most of them had been 'sleepers' waiting for action. When I came in, the sleepers were, well, woken up and started helping out. The network was in place, I just helped get it working."
"So that's how you were able to take over the cities so easily." Hadvar exclaimed.
"Exactly. People were in place for years. I just helped things get a little more organized and structured. Otherwise, people were just waiting." Lorinor added.
"Ok," Whitestone said, getting things back on track, "So are we going to try for the palace directly or cut up through the city?"
"Both," Martin replied. "I'll talk to Odahviing. It'll be a hard sell, but I think I can get them to agree. I will accompany you, Lorinor. Pick 20 men and we'll get as many of them to the palace as we can and we'll try to capture the leadership and their military commanders. If we can do that, they may have the rest of their troops stand down. While we do that, Praetor Whitestone, you will lead the assault through the city. Get as many of our legions through the gates as you can. Once the dragons drop us off, they'll start strafing the walls to keep the mages and archers busy. Coupled with the defecting troops, you all should be able to meet us at the palace."
"Very good, your majesty." Whitestone replied. "I will ensure the Generals and Tribunes have their specific instructions. I still think this will be a costly attack, even with all the help we can receive, but we will take this city, one way or another."
Alinor, Palace Level
Hearthfire, 7th
Very early in the morning, before the gray of dawn even appeared, under the cover of darkness, nine dragons swooped low and offloaded their riders. Martin had made his request to Odahviing and nine dragons had agree to carry two people each. Three of the dragons had declined. That gave them a smaller strike force then they would have liked, but they decided to go ahead with the mission anyway.
Each of the dragons offloaded their passengers and leapt up into the air. None of them roared or made any other noises. Martin, Lorinor and the soldiers hid in the shadows until the time was right.
Alinor, Lowest Level
Hundreds of archers lined the walls. Waiting. Dousers were walking the walls, extinguishing torches. The faintest gray was starting to appear in the east and the archers along the walls could make out the Imperial Legion soldiers, lined up, ready to attempt a breakthrough into the city. The archers and the accompanying mages would stop them, or die trying.
Alinor, Imperial Lines
Imperial Legions were lined up in front of the city. They already held the Alinor Docks to ensure nobody would flee. The city itself was heavily fortified, but they had siege equipment and a man on the inside, well a few men on the inside. The legions were currently standing just out of range of the archers and mages, waiting for the signal to advance.
As the gray of dawn became lighter and lighter, Praetor Whitestone and General Hadvar rode to the front of the imperial lines. Whitestone scanned the city walls and found the location he was looking for. "There," he pointed to a section on the far side. "There is where we will focus our siege engines and try to break through.
Hadvar nodded, and gave a few orders. A few moments later, huge stones were hurled towards the outer wall. Thalmor mages were able to stop a few, but many of the huge stones found their targets. The Battle of Alinor had begun.
Alinor, Outer Wall
The walls of Alinor were sturdy and secure. The massive stones coming from the imperial siege engines did little to damage the structure. However some of the mages and archers were hit by them, either directly, in which case they were crushed and killed, or indirectly and knocked off the walls. Those not affected immediately cleared the area. A counter attack was out of the question as the Imperial troops and siege engines were still out of range.
However, the dragons were in range. Three of them were strafing the walls, attempting to take out the archers and mages so that the legions could get their siege towers close to the walls and get troops inside the city.
Pastur Ganllon was witnessing the carnage and ran along the wall to the tower over the gatehouse. Narrowly missing be blasted by frost breath, he quickly sought cover. He walked over to a group of archers and ordered them to open the city gates.
"My lord? Are you sure?" One of the archers asked.
"Look at what is happening out there! It's only a matter of time before they breach the outer wall. We must sortie and delay them until reinforcements arrive. Now, follow my orders or I will personally feed you to the dragons!" Ganllon ordered.
The explanation and, more importantly, the threats were just plausible enough that the archers moved to carry out his orders. The massive gates to the lower level of the city slowly began opening.
Alinor, Imperial Lines
The First Imperial Legion had become known colloquially as "The Emperor's Legion," as that was typically the legion that the Emperor had fought with in battle. The first cohort of the First Legion had become known colloquially, at least within the ranks of the Legion, as "The Emperor's Sword."
It had started when the entire first cohort was comprised as sword singers, which were heavily relied upon and proved highly effective. The sword singers were often the first to engage the enemy and were used to slice through enemy lines. Even after the sword singers began to be distributed by company throughout the legion, the first cohort of the First Legion retained its moniker.
General Hadvar was sitting on his horse, in front of the first cohort of First Legion. He, along with his soldiers were watching the giant stones slowly chip away at the city wall and battlements. Praetor Whitestone rode up next him to get a progress update. However, before he could ask anything, both of them watched in amazement as the massive city gates opened.
"Are they going to sortie?" Hadvar asked.
"I'm not sure, but we can't waste this opportunity," Whitestone replied. "Take your legion into the city. Use the emperor's sword to go straight up the center. Second cohort should secure the gate, third and fourth should break the right and left. Let's not waste any time."
Alinor, Palace
When the fighting started, dragons started attacked the walls of every level. This was the signal Martin was waiting for. He instructed Lorinor to wait for his own signal before attacking with the group. Lorinor was a little confused, but agreed.
Martin walked out from hiding and was immediately surrounded by a dozen Thalmor soldiers. "Nice of you to bring yourself into our custody," the senior one jeered.
"Mul…Qah…DIIV!" The ghostly form shimmered around him, giving the soldiers pause. The Thalmor soldiers that is. Lorinor and his group took that as the signal and launched their attack. The dozen soldiers around Martin were quickly dispatched.
"Let's move," Martin directed and the group made for the palace gates.
Alinor, Outer Wall
"Pastur Ganllon, the enemy are coming into the city! What are your orders? Captain?" The archer looked around, but Pastur Ganllon was nowhere to be seen. "Quick, close the gates! Don't let any more imperials in the city!"
The order came too late. The first company of the second cohort was already on the walls. The made for the gate first. The archers dropped their bows and pulled out their short swords, but they were quickly overwhelmed.
The mages summoned daedra and atronachs to fight for them, which, due to the limited space on the wall, kept the companies of the second cohort busy. The dragons assisted and some of the constructs simply vanished when the summoning mages were killed. Others had to be fought directly in order to get to the mages. After about two hours, the second cohort managed to secure the main gate into the city and the wall at the lower level.
Alinor, Palace
"I heard you can shatter gate with your voice," Lorinor said.
Martin nodded sheepishly. "I wasn't exactly myself last time. Still, it's worth a shot."
"Fus…Roh…DAH!" The gates shattered. Some of the soldiers inside, closest to where the gate had ben, were impaled by large fragments of what had been the gate. Soldiers on both sides stood there, awe struck.
Neither side moved for a moment, until Lorinor walked into the palace and began, "Brothers! Sisters! Hear me! Many of you have seen firsthand, and even more of you had heard what the Thalmor have done to our people! The time to throw off their oppressive yoke is now! Many others across the Isles have already done so! Why throw your lives away in a meaningless cause? Join me! Help me create a better future for our people, for all our people!"
"Lower your weapons," an unidentified officer ordered.
The soldiers followed the order they were given, and lowered their weapons. Still, none of them moved aside, nor did they make any motion toward the Lorinor and his men.
After a tense moment, the unidentified officer spoke again. "We will not fight against you, but neither will we fight with you. Should you or someone else come to rule Summerset, we will fight for whoever that may be. For now, you can pass, but others may not make the same choice that we did."
Lorinor and his group continued through the palace unopposed, along with the Emperor and the Ebony Warrior. They reached the main audience chamber and, to their surprise, found the doors unlocked and unguarded. They opened the doors and found the chamber empty!
Alinor Docks
The Alinor Docks were not physically connected to the city, at least as far as anyone was aware. Sailors and ship captains from other provinces often never saw the city proper, but could only view it's splendor from the docks. Just north of the docks was an odd looking outcropping. It was near this outcropping that General Rikke had stationed some of her troops. Every Thalmor city appeared to have a secret tunnel in and out of the city. Rikke was betting that Alinor was no different. She was wondering if the Thalmor leadership would try to escape.
Her musings soon proved correct. A wooden door, deep in the rocky outcropping soon opened. Imperial troops grabbed the door and pulled it open. A skirmish ensued, between the Legion and the Thalmor escorts. It wasn't long before the escorts were either dispatched or surrounded. Lady Arranelya ordered her guard to surrender.
"You will treat me with the respect I am due." She told the Legion.
None of the legionnaires moved, except for one: a runner who left to get General Rikke. The runner returned with the general a few moments later.
"Lower your weapons," Rikke ordered. "Lady Arranelya, you will accompany me. Horses are being prepared. We will go to First Army Field Headquarters. You will be treated well, but keep in mind you are a prisoner."
"What of my escort? What will become of me?"
"Your Justicar may accompany you," Rikke guessed by the uniform he was wearing. "As for your final fate, that will be determined by the new government. For now, you will be kept safe and as I said, treated well."
Alinor, Lowest Level
Once the second cohort of the first legion had secured the gate and outer wall, the remainder of First Legion, Lorinor's own militia and the entirety of Third Legion were able to make their way into the city. However, once they got through the gates, the Thalmor put up a stiff resistance. The fighting was street to street and brutal. Forward momentum was slow.
Eventually the fight go near the wall to the next level. Thalmor archers and mages launched their attacks on the melee below. Both imperial troops and Thalmor troops were being hit by arrows and magical attacks.
Pasture Ganllon, who has been fighting in the streets noticed this and shouted loudly, "We've been betrayed! The mages and archers have betrayed the Thalmor! To the walls!" Many of the soldiers broke off from their engagements and rallied around the Pastur.
Pastur Ganllon turned towards some of his senior soldiers, many of whom were looking to defect as well. He had hoped that the other soldiers would follow their lead. "The mages and archers are attacking our own. They have betrayed the Thalmor. You must take your men up to the walls and slay ever last one of them. Let not a single traitor survive!"
"Yes, Pastur!" The soldiers replied in unison. They lead their respective squads through the city to the stairs that lead up to the doors of the mid-level wall. Those guarding the doors (who happened to be Pastur Ganllon's men, placed into position by Zeno Mor), opened them up to allow them through. They went up on the wall for the mid-level and did as they were told. At first it was easy as the archers and mages were not expected an attack from their own, but they quickly organized and fought back.
It was too little, too late. The Thalmor soldiers made quick work of the archers and mages. The wall protecting the mid-level was now clear of attackers. The dragons all moved to the palace level.
.
.
General Hadvar was leading his men up the main boulevard when the arrows and magic started to rain down on them. He ordered his men to take cover and expected the Thalmor to follow them back. He was quite surprised when they broke off and fell back.
Hadvar and many of his men found refuge inside a nearby tavern. The tavern was closed but the door was not locked, and they rushed inside. The owner looked at them, fear evident on her face. "We won't harm you," Hadvar assured her.
The tavern keeper recognized one of Lorinor's men, who was with Hadvar. She sighed in relief. "I believe you, but I cannot help you or offer you aid of any kind." She thought for a moment. "I will be in the basement. Please do not pillage all my wares." She had a slight glint in her eye and Hadvar understood exactly what she meant. He nodded and she left.
"What did she mean, sir?" One of his Tribunes asked.
"We have no idea how long we'll be holed up here," Hadvar replied. "She can't help us for fear of reprisals. But we'll eat if we need to and compensate her accordingly."
Whether she had implied such or not soon proved irrelevant. A Thalmor Pastur entered the tavern just a few minutes later. He made straight for the general, but his sword was still sheathed. Two legionnaires moved in front of the general to protect him.
"It's ok, I am a friend of Zeno," The Pastur said.
"Let him pass," Hadvar ordered.
"But, sir, it could be a trap," one of the Legionnaires advised.
"The Thalmor have had plenty of opportunity to kill me, and will have plenty of opportunity more," Hadvar observed.
The soldiers nodded and parted to let the Pastur through.
"You are Pastur…?"
"Ganllon, my lord," The Pastur replied. "It was me who ordered the main gates opened. And my troops who killed the mages and archers on the mid-level wall. That wall is now under my control. I can get at least one of your legions to the middle level."
"Beyond that?" Hadvar asked.
"I'm sorry, my lord, but I'm afraid I've done all I can. I risk being exposed as it is. In fact, I would like to request asylum." Ganllon replied.
Hadvar was thoughtful for a moment before responding. "You've done us a great service, Pastur Ganllon. Take us through the mid-level wall, and I will have a patrol escort you back to our field headquarters. You may remain there as a guest until we have taken the city. Then the Emperor will decide your reward."
Alinor, Palace
Martin looked around the empty chamber. "Thoughts?"
"Either the leadership has fled, or they are holed up on a higher level of the palace," the Ebony Warrior observed.
"The question is, if they fled, how?" Lorinor added.
Martin was thoughtful for a moment. "Lorinor, why don't you and your men search the palace. See if you can find the Thalmor commander and get him to surrender. The…ebony warrior and I will see if we can find a secret tunnel out of the city and follow it."
"Secret tunnel?" one of Lorinor's men asked.
"Every Thalmor city we have been in has had one," Martin replied. "It stands to reason their capital will have one as well."
"Ok, your majesty, my soldiers and I will search the palace see if we can find anyone in charge. If not, I will assume control of the city and order the troops to stand down."
Martin nodded, then he and the Ebony Warrior left to find the escape tunnel.
Lorinor and his troops searched every room in every tower of the palace. It seemed abandoned. Most all the Thalmor soldiers were guarding the wall to the palace level. Lorinor was very disappointed, as he really wanted to capture the leadership. Finally, they all went back to palace courtyard. They found Commander Calinor lying dead, with Zeno Mor standing over his body. A few soldiers were standing around Zeno, looking very unsure of themselves.
Lorinor stopped just short, "Are you Zeno Mor?"
"I am. Commander Calinor is dead. The leadership have fled." Zeno unsheathed his sword. "I am the last ranking official of the city and I formally surrender. I will have the troops stand down." Zeno handed over his sword and Lorinor graciously accepted it.
Zeno turned towards one of the soldiers. "Order everyone to stand down. Pass the word down to the mid-level and lower level as needed."
"Yes, my lord." The officer left to carry out his orders.
Alinor, Mid-level
Pastur Ganllon was true to his word. He led General Hadvar and one of his companies up the opulent staircase to the doors of the mid-level wall. Once up on the wall, Ganllon got his soldiers to stand down. The Legion took the wall and the doors into the next level without a fight. Hadvar was very suspicious and ordered all her troops to stay on guard.
His suspicions increased even further when he spotted a rider on a horse…a horse in the city? Is he mad?...riding full speed to their position. "Standby to receive the enemy!" He ordered.
Two companies of soldiers went out into the streets to receive him. Hadvar's suspicion turned to surprise when he raised a white flag as he approached. Hadvar remained on the wall, while a patrol escorted the rider up to meet him and Pastur Ganllon.
"I am Pastur Falwen—"
"Wait Pastur? I heard of you," Hadvar interrupted.
"I was an Elamer, demoted after Gilane. I'm lucky demotion is all I received. Anyway, the troops on the palace level have formally surrendered. I have been ordered to pass along word. All hostilities shall cease. General Hadvar, Pastur Ganllon, your presence has been specifically requested in the palace. You are guaranteed safe passage. Here take this," Pasture Falwen handed over a scroll to General Hadvar, "it's a writ of guarantee."
Alinor Docks
The Emperor and the Ebony Warrior exited the secret passage onto the shoreline. They met up with a very surprised patrol.
"Your majesty!" One of them shouted as they all stood a bit straighter.
"Stand easy. What is your status?" Martin asked.
"My Liege, General Rikke is currently escorting the prisoners to our base camp. They may even be there by now," one of the soldiers replied.
"Please send a messenger, instruct Praetor Whitestone to assemble an escort and bring the prisoners to the palace once the city is ours." Martin directed.
"Yes, your majesty!" All the soldiers saluted, while Martin and the Ebony Warrior returned to the palace via the secret tunnel.
Alinor Palace
Late that evening
There had been some sporadic fighting throughout the city as some of the Thalmor troops had refused to surrender, instead choosing to follow the last orders they received, which was to hold the city at all cost. However, all fight went out of even the most stalwart holdouts when they saw Lady Arranelya being paraded through the city, from the main gate on the lower level, all the way to the palace. Placed in chains and guarded by Legionnaires, there could be no doubt left of the imperial victory.
Once in the palace, they were lead to the main audience chamber. The furniture on the dais had been removed and Lorinor was standing front and center. Just behind him, to either side were Cyrellon Falwen and Zeno Mor. Cyrellon's sister, restored to the rank of Elamer and Ganllon, newly promoted to the same, were to the side and behind Cyrellon and Zeno.
"Lady Arranelya," Lorinor began. "You are being tried for crimes against the Altmer."
"Bah! By who's authority? I AM the authority in Summerset!"
"No, you are not, no longer will we bow before your tyranny. No longer will we live in fear of your secret police. No longer will we allow our families to be murdered to preserve the integrity of the Dominion. The Aldmeri Dominion is no more. Your authority is no more. Now I am the authority, given that authority by the citizens of Summerset. It is by that authority that I find you guilty of crime against the Altmer and sentence you to prison. To be held in the dungeons beneath this city. Never again will you see the sun. Your only interaction will be when meals are provided. You are no longer a noble or royalty. From hence forth, you will be known as the worst criminal in Summerset and treated accordingly. Guards, carry out her sentence!"
Arranelya was stunned beyond words. She didn't even put up a fight when the guards took her arm to escort her to the dungeons below the city. Once she was out of the audience chamber a cheer rose up from the crowd. Lorinor had done it. He had freed his people. Now the real work came.
Alinor, Palace
Hearthfire, 9th
There was a large conference being held in the capital of Summerset. Nobles from all the major cities were there. Emperor Martin Septim II was present, along with Praetor Whitestone. The goal of the conference was to determine the future leadership of both the province and the major cities throughout.
Lorinor succeeded in his goal of freeing his people, but he had little desire to rule himself. His quest was one of vengeance and that was now complete. He could help but feel a little empty inside. He had thought he would feel a little more fulfilled, but instead there was just a void inside and he wondered if it would ever be filled.
Lorinor pushed those thoughts aside and kicked off the conference. "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Aldmeri Dominion is no more. The Summerset Isles are once again a province of the empire, and it lies to us to fill the power vacuum that has resulted. Many of you were temporarily placed in charge of your respective cities. It is now our task to determine the permanent rulers not just of the cities but of Summerset itself."
"Who says we're now a puppet of the empire now? Did we trade one master for another?" one of the nobles groused.
"The Empire freed us from the Tyranny of the Thalmor," Cyrellon replied. "You will find life much different, and better, now. Unless you would prefer the Thalmor?"
The noble grumbled a little more, but said nothing.
"He's right, though, should we not have a say in what our destiny is?" another noble pointed out. "I move that our first vote be on our status. Province or nation?"
"I'll second that!" The first noble exclaimed.
"Very well," Lorinor replied. "Everything we do will be watched very closely."
"You're on board with this?" Cyrellon asked in disbelief.
"I am. I will put forth the question now. Vote with a show of hands, who wishes to formally rejoin the empire?" Lorinor asked.
All the hands except that of the first noble went up. The rest turned to look at him and continued to look at him until he sheepishly raised his hand.
Lorinor smiled. "Let it be known by unanimous vote, The Summerset Isles will be formally rejoining the empire. Now onto the matters at hand: First, who rules the province and the cities and second, how do we de-thalmor-ize our militias and city guards?"
"The first one is easy. I move we appoint Lorinor as High King," Cyrellon said.
There as some general murmuring around the table, but it was Lorinor himself who raised up the first objection. "I am honored, I truly am, but I am not here to make myself king. No, I did my part, and now it is up to someone else."
"How about my brother?" Elamer Falwen said. "My family are some of the last true nobles in the province. Surely we have a claim?"
"One of the last, but not the last," one of the other nobles pointed out.
"Still," Rimintil replied. "He is here and he did help retake part of our province for our people. I think he is a good candidate. Personally I think he is the second best candidate, but since Lorinor has already declined, I move we put his name forward."
"Second best, huh? I'll buck you down to trooper, my friend," Cyrellon said with a laugh.
There was some more light laughter around the table, including Martin. "Cyrellon and Lorinor have both done a tremendous service to Summerset and to the Empire, I think either one of them would be a great candidate. However, it will be up to you all to vote in order to make things legitimate for the people of Summerset," Martin advised.
"Very well," Rimintil said, "I move we put both Lorinor and Cyrellon up for a vote."
"I'll second," another noble chimed in.
"Your majesty, since I am one of the candidates, would you do the honors? Please keep in mind I aim to turn down the role," Lorinor added.
Martin chuckled a little at that last part. "Very well. All in favor of Cyrellon as High King of Summerset?"
A majority of hands went up, including Lorinor's.
"And all in favor of Lorinor as High King of Summerset?"
Rimintil and one other raised their hands, in spite of Lorinor's statement.
"Very well, then as Emperor of Tamriel, based on the votes of the nobles of this great province, I pronounce Cyrellon Falwen as new High King of Summerset!" Martin exclaimed.
There were cheers around the table. "Thank you, all of you, I am truly honored. More so by you Lorinor. It takes a big man to overthrow the Thalmor, but an even bigger man to turn down power and authority. That being said, you do deserve a reward. With the emperor's consent, I would appoint you as King of Lillandril."
Lorinor looked shocked, but quickly recovered. He sighed, but then he smiled. "Very well, I am humbled and honored to accept."
"Any opposition?" Cyrellon asked.
There was none.
"Good, it's settled then. Next is Sunhold," Cyrellon easily transitioned into leading the meeting and Lorinor was happy to let him do so. "Rimintil, you were appointed temporary ruler. I would like to make it permanent. "Any objections?"
"I object," Rimintil said, to some light laughter. "I am a military man, while the lure of nobility is strong for some, I prefer to die a military man. With your permission, your majesty."
Martin looked at Praetor Whitestone briefly and then to Elamer Falwen and then back to Rimintil. "Actually, I think there is room in the Legion for both you and Elamer Falwen to receive a generalship if you will both accept."
"Your majesty, if I may be so bold," Cyrellon began, "if my sister is to be in the Legion, might I request she command the unit garrisoned in Summerset? We have been apart too long."
Martin again looked to Whitestone who nodded. "I think that can be arranged."
"Excellent!" Cyrellon exclaimed. "Now, onto the other cities…"
The meeting went on until late in the night, but eventually all of the major cities had noble rulers. It would be up to the King and Queen of each city to fill out their own government, and up to High King Cyrellon Falwen to fill out the government for the province, but they had the outline of a government in place and could begin the transition. There were still a lot of minute details that needed to be worked out, but the Summerset Isles were formally part of the empire. The war was over.
Imperial Palace, Catacombs, Cyrodiil
Hearthfire, 20th
Martin had not realized just how much had to go into reunifying an empire. The past week had been intense, in some respects more than the war itself. But the war was now over, and Martin had some time where he could take care of some personal matters. He was in the catacombs with his most trusted companions and advisors. Hadvar, Esbern and Aela were all with him as he had a very difficult decision to make.
They approached Lydia's stone sarcophagus and stood there for a few minutes before Martin motioned to Hadvar. The two moved the cover stone off the sarcophagus and looked at Lydia's remains.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Hadvar asked.
"No…yes. Yes. Yes, I am sure." Martin took a deep breath and waited for what seemed an eternity.
"SLEN TIID VO!"
Nothing happened.
Martin took a deep breath and with all his might, every ounce of his Thu'um and will, "SLEN TIID VO!"
At first, nothing happened, but then color seemed to be returning to Lydia's face. Her body seemed to fill out, but then suddenly it stopped and Marin fell over.
Aela rushed to his side. Her and Hadvar helped him up. Martin had visibly aged. For a Bosmer that was worrisome.
"Are you alright?" Hadvar asked.
"I feel a little weak," Martin replied, but otherwise ok. "Did it work?"
"I'm afraid not, your majesty," Esbern observed. "It looked like it started to, but I fear that particular shout is not meant for man or mer."
Martin nodded, seemingly accepting defeat. "Thank you, all of you, for coming down here with me. Please, help me back to my quarters so I can rest."
Emperor's Quarters, Imperial Palace
Later that evening
Martin was in his quarters, sharing some wine with Hadvar and Aela. Esbern had since returned to Weynon Priory.
"How are you feeling, your majesty?" Hadvar asked.
"I'd feel a lot better if you both would stop referring to me as 'your majesty' when were alone and drinking together," Martin replied with a half smile. Then he got serious. "I know things are going to be changing around here. Things will start getting more formal and I understand that is how things need to be in public, but when we're alone, I need to unwind too. Please, drop the formality. It will be tough enough to adjust, and I'll need the break. I really need friends I can trust and unwind with. Even if it's only a small few."
Hadvar and Aela looked at each other and then back at Martin. "You will always have my friendship and my respect, my shield-brother, Cadriel," Aela said with a warm smile.
"And you know you have mine," Hadvar agreed.
Martin smiled, a genuine smile. "Thank you, both of you."
"There's that smile," Aela jibed.
"Are you really ok, though?" Hadvar asked.
"I'm not going to break down any city gates, if that's what you're asking," Martin replied. "Seriously though, I am ok. I was very disappointed that it did not work and I still feel a little weak, but we must trust in the divines. Tamriel is reunited, and each of us paid a heavy price. I'm not the only one who sacrificed and I am…beginning to, at least…accept my fate."
"If there is anything I can do, please your-er-Cadriel, please ask me," Aela said.
"Same here, Martin," Hadvar quipped.
"Again, thank you, both of you."
Emperor's Quarters, Imperial Palace
Hearthfire, 27th
Jonna was paying Martin a rare visit and the two were drinking some fine wine in the Emperor's Anteroom. The fire in the hearth brought an emotional, as well as physical warmth to the room. The two made small talk for a little while, but Martin could tell that Jonna had something on his mind, something he wanted to discuss.
"As much as I enjoy your company, what is on your mind?" Martin inquired.
"Astute as always," Jonna began. "It has been my pleasure to serve the Empire over the past several months. I am honored that you permitted me to serve, even when my health keeps me from the field."
"But…"
Jonna smiled slightly. "But, I'm old. And, as much as I would love to argue otherwise, I do not have the same level of vigor that I used to."
"That's why you are Consul and not a General in the field," Martin tried to argue.
"Yes and I truly am honored, but even there, I am afraid my time of service is coming to an end. As much as I would like to continue serving you and the Empire, I fear I have reached the limits of my time and ability. If your majesty would permit it, I would like to quietly retire."
Martin was saddened by the admission. He knew Jonna was probably right, but he had come to rely on him pretty heavily. Still, if anyone deserved a comfortable retirement, he did.
"No," Martin said, and then smiled. "I mean, you can retire, but not quietly. I am going to throw you such a big parade and embarrass you with the amount of honor that you are due. You are a hero of the Empire in the truest sense of the word. You saved the Empire during the Great War and were instrumental in the reunification of the Empire."
"You know, some scholars are already calling the conflict the Dovakiin War." Jonna said with a glint in his eye.
Martin smiled in response. "I've heard 'The Reunification War,' and I'm sure any Thalmor remnants will have their own name for it, but I'll let the historians worry about what to call it, the fact is, you were instrumental, a key player. I will make sure you have a comfortable retirement. After the parade, that is. I do hope you will still come by and visit, though."
"Oh?"
Martin smiled sadly. "I know my style of leadership is…unique, but some of my closest friends and companions seem to be…distancing themselves. A few seem to be getting better at accepting me as emperor and friend, but many are still having trouble doing so."
"It's lonely at the top." Jonna agreed. "The thing about roads is, they work no matter what direction you are travelling them."
Martin grinned at the implied invitation. The two of them continued to drink their wine in a comfortable silence.
White-Gold Tower, Cyrodiil
Date: Disputed
There was a large crowd gathered outside the Imperial Palace. The largest seen since Martin was crowned Emperor. The crowd was expectant. Tamriel was united. There was a dragonblood on the Ruby Throne. Rumors abounded about a major announcement. Anticipation was at its peak when a senior court page walked out on the balcony.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! I present to you…the Uniter of Tamriel, the first Dragonblood Emperor since the Oblivion Crisis, Restorer of the Nine Divines, Protector of Nirn, the Lightning Bringer, Emperor Martin…Septim…the Second!"
The crowd roared in approval as Martin walked out onto the balcony. Martin knew immediately that he would need to cut his remarks short, but there was an important announcement he had to make. He raised his hands up to motion for silence and waited a few moments for the crowd to quiet down before he spoke.
"People of Tamriel! For two hundred years, pretenders have occupied the Ruby Throne. For two hundred years, enemies of Nirn thought they could take advantage of us. Tamriel was shattered, and yet, through it all, each of the nine divines looked down on us…even the one who was forsaken. Now, for the first time since the Oblivion Crisis, a dragonblood sits on the Ruby Throne. For the first time since the Oblivion Crisis, Tamriel is united. The pretenders have been defeated! The enemies of Nirn have been defeated! Every man, mer and creature is free! Ladies and Gentlemen, I declare to you now that the Second Interregnum is now over! We have a prosperity not seen since the Oblivion Crisis. A new dawn has shined on our land, a new era is upon us. People of Tamriel, I declare to you today that the Fifth Era has begun!"
The crowd erupted! The cheers, the shouts, rose to such a fevered pitch. Martin stepped back from the edge of the balcony and let the noise continue. He had done it. Through his skills in battle and diplomacy, he had re-united the empire. The question before him was simple. Did he have the skills needed to rule in peace and bring prosperity to the empire?
Author's note: I asked, you answered! Lydia is going to remain in the Catacombs. As always, a special thank you to my beta readers. The story is always better with their input. The fifth era has begun...now we'll see the fallout from the war. Thank you, everyone, for your support and your patience. IF you have any comments, or constructive criticism, please feel free to send me a private message.