Chapter 1: My Past

My story began as a young lad just accepted into the fabled Blades Guild. Well it wasn't much of a guild, more like a security force. My tattered garb were replaced by Akaviri-like armor. My callused hands no longer begged, they swung a sword. Delphine, a middle-aged captain of the Skyrim Branch, always said she thought I'd just end up being a troublemaker. But little did she expect me to become one of the best swordsmen of the Blades.

When I wasn't honing my skills of the sword, spell, and shield, I was studying with that old guy in the Cloud Ruler Temple north of Bruma. He was rumored to have lived the life of a drunkard before joining the Blades, but I doubt it. He seemed too focused to have drank most his life.

60 Moons Later...

Turdas, ?? 4E????

We sent a courier into Skyrim, but after he left, we realized his papers for entry were sitting on the table in the Canteen.

Our Captain, a Dark Elf nicknamed Shaman for his ease in battling Goblins, said as he began to brew himself a pot of tea, " Dammit, we will have to send another soon. Young Gray, have you ever tried Sujama before?"

I laid my ancient Akaviri katana on the table, I had bested the Akaviri General in Pale Pass on a mission for the Countess of Bruma and aquired a sword with mysterious enchantments, "No, sir. I don't believe I have."

A grin spread from scarred ear to scarred ear on his devilish face, "Well son, that's about to change. I had ordered a few crates of the finest Morrowind-made drinks from this boatman who frequents Solstheim. We're going to have a Coming-of-Age party for you later today. When you'll be legal age to drink."

"Legal Age? Since when did they start to enforce that? It's hard enough to find clean water for drinking. They planning on slimming the population down like that?" I lay down my damaged helmet on the mannequin behind me.

"Ha," The Darke Elf laughed so hard he dropped his Canis Root, "Well I wouldn't put that past our Emperor. Which reminds me, have you heard the tale of Martin Septim and the Champion of Cyrodiil?"

"I've heard about Martin Septim from Esbern. But who's the Champion of Cyrodiil?" I took a bite of a apple.

"My my what is the old man teaching you? The Champion is the only reason Nirn still exists. Some believe and argue he was more heroic than Martin ever was." Shaman finished preparing his Canis Root tea and offered me some, which I gladly accepted with a grin. "Atta boy. Most of your kin and the Nords despise Canis Root tea."

"I honestly love it. When it's boiled right, of course. If you tried some of the Canis Root tea they sell in Cheydinhall you'd never want it again." I took a sip of the tea. A sour wave of tea filled my mouth, then a flash of snowberries eased the pain. "Always as beautiful a taste."

"An Imperial drinking Canis Root tea with a Dark Elf. The Telvanni would be outraged." Shaman laughed as he took a huge swig of tea.

The warmth from the fireplace in the center of the Hall warmed the entire building. Not a single stone inside or out was cold.

"You were saying something about the Champion of Cyrodiil, correct?" I took another sip of the tea.

"Ah yes. The Champion. His story started out much like the Neravarine was rumored to have. Incarcerated in the depths of the Imperial Prison, across from my great great Uncle on my mother's side." He took a second let it sink in, "Alright. Let's continue."

The Champion of Cyrodiil met the Blades and Emperor Uriel Septim VII when they realized the guard had placed a prisoner inside their escape tunnel cell.

After a few words, the Emperor pardoned the prisoner and they followed the small group through the undercrofts of the Prison.

The Champion was standing beside the Emperor as a cultist from the Daedric Cult called the Muthic Dawn assassinated the Emperor. But not before sustaining a astonishing number of wounds from the prisoner.

"That's enough for now. Don't wanna spoil too much." Shaman grinned evilly, knowing I was hooked.

"Gods above Shaman, you love telling stories with cliffhangers don't you?" I laughed and finished downing my cup of tea.

"Oh believe me kid. This story has more chances cliffhangers than opportunities for thieves in the Imperial City."

And with that, we retired to our beds.