"The final attack on the Summerset Isles is considered by many one of the greatest military exploits since the Tiber Septim wars; little is known of how the Emperor made such a phenomenon happen, but the phenomenon itself was documented by many soursers in the Isles. All around the Summerset Isles, from the smallest hamlets to the greatest cities and the great mages towers, magicka was cut off from the world. Somehow the emperor was able to severe the ties of part of the world with Aetherius, making the Summerset Isles a land with no magicka for the better part of a week before three legions attacked the Thalmor Amry. When the armies met, the Thalmor's greatest fear was unfounded, for the Imperial army was also magickaless; that was when the one hundred dragons and the Emperor himself joined the battle field. That day, two long-forgotten facts were rediscovered by Tamriel: Tonal-Architecture, commonly referred to as Tonal-Magic, was not reliant on magicka, and the Thu'um is a higher form of Tonal-Architecture"
-Exerpt of "The Second Great-War"
Jon-
Jon's eyes stared at the small party that would follow him to The North, half a century with it's centurion, alchemists, research mages, and novice mages whose jobs were to write down the discoveries made by the alchemists and research mages, as well as one full support squadron, with five scouts, hunters, builders, and horse specialists. Jon found it too much; however, Jon's new title as ambassador required certain rules had to be followed. It was still dark as they all gathered at the gates of the Crag. The legionnaires were already mounted, had already fed themselves, and looked ready to proceed on their way up north. The Mages and Alchemist looked less so as they sat on their horses; many were eating small things or reading magic retaled tomes; otherwise, they looked ready as well.
"Centurion Janus, are your man and mer ready?" Jon asked; his voice was collected and his tone was calm, reflecting his feelings at the moment. "It is my intention to depart before the sun rises."
"Yes, Master Snow, my century is ready to depart. I would ask you to share your travel plans so we could better plan how to proceed and which holdfast we are more likely to encounter." Janus asked. The scar below his right eye distinguished the man amongst his fellow centurions; as far as Jon knew, he had gotten it on the exact day the Second War officially started.
"That was exactly what I was planning to do; I have the skeleton of a plan, and I would appreciate it if you would help me complete it." Jon began as he summoned a map of Westeros; the map floated in the air by Jon's magick and both Jon and Janus looked at it "We shall head north towards the Banefort; unless stopped by Lord Banefort, I have no plans to visit the castle itself. There we shall take the road eastwards towards Old Stones; we can camp near the roads every night, and I believe we can stop to rest properly in Old Stones itself. We can cross the blue fork and head towards the Twins; there we cross the Green Fork and head towards the Kingsroad. The Kingsroad will take us directly to Winterfell." Jon explained; he saw as Janus nodded and assumed a thinking pose
"What are our orders should we meet hostiles?" Janus asked simply; his lack of knowledge on Westeros put him in a situation where he could not judge if Jon's travel plan was efficient or not.
"Bandits are to be eliminated with extreme prejudice; any who surrender are to be taken to their local lord or landed knights. The hunters will only be allowed to hunt when in the Kingsroad and only within 10 miles from it; otherwise, it will be poaching, and if caught by a Lord, they will have to lose a hand. I have bought enough supplies to last us the whole trip, but as long as no law is broken, I'll not deny any from getting fresh venison." Jon began, "If stopped by a Lord or his bannerman, however, we are to follow their rules, and I have a letter with Lord Westerling seals as well as Commander Marus'. Should said Lord find himself disagreeable and violence be inevitable, I shall take care of it myself." Jon finished, and Janus seemed uncomfortable with parts of the instructions, but otherwise he chose to remain silent.
"Anything you would like for me to take into consideration?" Jon asked, his mind going through a myriad of thoughts, such as the state of his family in Winterfell and how his father would react to Jon's new allegiance to what in his eyes would be a foreign empire.
"Are we to avoid any towns or settlements?" Janus asked, his eyes lingered on the group gathered, their items and supply carts.
"I would recommend so, but it's not a requirement whatsoever. Mages will come here in droves just to study how magic flows on a different continent if anything else; the alchemist confirmed the ingredients native to Westeros have unique effects, many as powerful as those back in Tamriel." Jon began. "The Westerosi need to learn magic will once again become something prevalent in the world; by not hiding our magic, we will help with that." Jon finished.
"I have no more questions." Janus spoke; his voice was calm, and he seemed to agree with Jon's reasonings.
"Let us depart then." Jon said as he summoned a book from his pocket dimension. The book was one written by Andorilis Majoris, a famous Altmer archmage of the first era, one with an uncanny affinity towards fire. He was also the first to combine elemental magic with teleportation magic, creating today's widely used teleportation through fire.
Jon didn't start reading the book immediately; he observed as Janus commanded his century, and once the Centurion signaled he was ready, Jon called for the party's departure.
They didn't ride fast or slow, preferring to keep a steady pace so as not to get in the way of the alchemists' experimentation.
Slowly but surely they got away from The Crag; the tall hills with yellowish grass grew more numerous, and the roads grew less cared for till they became just old paths on the grass.
As the day passed, Jon saw many small hamlets and villages, farms and livestock, and all manner of old, ruined buildings. Westeros was an ancient land; civilization alone was mayhaps one and a half times as old as that of Tamriel, and it showed... Undoubtedly it would have effects on the more esoteric kind of magics—rituals and mysticism chief amongst them—magics Jon had no deep knowledge beyond the bare minimum about.
More scholarly-inclined mages than Jon would have to be sent to study the land and its mysteries, for despite mastering three scholls as necessary to become an archmage, Jon's masteries were in more pragmatic... more empirical fields, something Tiberius claimed was due to his age.
As the party advanced and the day was dyeing, the hills became less numerous and the hamlets became less spaced out among the land; mercifully, the Tamrielic party didn't meet any lord's man at arms or any brigants.
"Master Snow. I advise us to stop and camp as we prepare for the night." Centurion Janus spoke, his experience shining through as Jon had completely spaced out in his book and had forgotten about camping. Not that anyone would blame him; mages who travel alone usually don't stop at night.
"Ah, aye, That is indeed a great idea. Let us stop and camp then." Jon began, his mind still a little fixated on his book and its contents. Jon's mind was subsequently taken by surprise once more as he watched the soldiers of the imperial legion build a camp like a well-oiled dwemer machine.
The night found Jon in his tent with his communication crystal in hands as he listened to his retainer in Tamriel. The man was managing his manse as well as informing Jon of the things happening in court.
"The High Chancellor then gave full rights to the investigation to the Psijic Order. Archmage Theodorus was outraged. My Lord, you will not believe what happened next." The man began, his voice sounding almost euphoric.
"Lord Divayth Fyr revealed himself present and said he himself would work with the Psijic Order to help in the investigations and that he would not entertain politics interfering with his work. That shut Master Theodorus immediately," Jon's retainer finished. Jon couldn't help himself as his mouth hung in the air.
"Divayth Fyr... How the fuck did Master Fyr enter the Imperial City without causing a comotion?" Jon mused to himself without realizing he was speaking out loud.
" Well. He didn't want to be seen, so he wasn't seen... simple as that." Jon's retainer explained as if simply commenting on the weather.
"Was Tiberius present?" Jon asked, ignoring the man's answer to his question. "The encounter of two archmages of that caliber would certainly result in a discussion of magical matters. Last time Tiberius met Master Neloth, they created a method to give heart stones soil-enhancing capabilities."
"His Majesty the Emperor and the Empress were not in the Imperial City; they were and still are in Skyrim visiting their daughter." The man began; he seemed not pleased with Jon's casual referral to the Emperor, something Jon chose to ignore as, for all intents and purposes, the man was an excellent retainer. "Master Fyr refused to talk with Master Theodorus. He chose to walk up the White-Gold Tower to talk with the Red Dragon Odahviing instead."
Jon's conversation with his retainer lasted for a few more hours. Jon instructed the man to move part of his gold and invest in any expedition to Westeros departing from Morrowind.
As Jon left his tent to get some food, he saw most mages and the legionaries not on guard duty were seated around a campfire, trading stories and talking to one another. Jon quietly approached and silently seated down.
"I was there when both great wars were declared. The Thalmor diplomat entered the White-Gold Tower carrying a cart with a large chest, arrogant as they always were, and demanded an audience with the late emperor Titus Made ll." The Old Mer began; he was an old mage, famous for fighting in both Great Wars.
"He demanded many things for peace with the Aldmeri Dominion: a large sum of gold, part of Hammerfell, the ban on worship of Talos, and that the Blades be disbanded. Titus obviously denied it; the Thalmor smirked and said The Dominion would never forget that insult. He then turned around and said he had a gift for the Emperor, He opened the large chest and inside were the chopped heads of all Blades previously stationed on Dominion territories. Thus the First Great War Started." The mood went somber after the mer's words, The First Great War was to this date the bloodier war Tamriel had ever seen; many young lives were reaped by the Thalmor's madness. "I went to Bruma after the first war and stayed there for almost thirty years studying under Master Julius, the master of Illusions affiliated with the Synod. That was until Tiberius Octum called specifically upon me and told me he needed my help in a negotiation with the Thalmor. The first Dragonborn emperor in two hundred years had called upon me." The man said his eyes were lit with pride. Jon understood the reason. The moment Tiberius showed himself in the Imperial City, with a restored Amulet of Kings on his hands, claiming to be a Dragonborn after a Thalmor spy used the mace of Molag Baal to put out the Dragonfires in Temple of One, the Elder Council, too afraid of another Oblivion Crisis, immediately proclaimed him the Emperor in wake of Titus Made ll's death. The Symbolism of a Dragonborn emperor brought Hammerfell back into the empire. The Voice of a Dragonborn eventually brought the rest.
"The Emperor and I traveled to Alinor, only a small platoon of men with us and a dragon in the sky. The emperor ferryed a large chest, a gift to the Thalmor, he claimed." The old mer continued, "The Emperor waited until all Thalmor leaders were present, and once they were, he didn't let them speak before putting his terms: acknowledgement of Talos as the ninth divine, a large sum of gold, part of Valenwood, and that the Thalmor recalled every spy or agent on Empire territories." The old mer said, and a small laugh escaped his lips. Janus, to Jon's surprise, was looking like a child at the old mer.
"What happened next?!" Janus asked, already impatient as the mer kept laughing for a few seconds.
"The Thalmor laughed at the Emperor's face. The Emperor smiled back at them and said that there would be no longer any negotiations; he stood up and said he had a gift for them. The chest, which he had brought to the meeting. It was the heads of EVERY SINGLE Talmor agent spies and justiciars previously acting on imperial lands. Some of them were powerful old mages highly valued by the Thalmor. Thus the Second Great War began... this time the Empire was ready." The old mer finished his tale, one which was surprisingly not common knowledge; very few knew for certain when the Second Great War was declared; the only information available was that the Dragons broke the power struggle in the borthers, allowing the legions to advance when the Emperor gave the order.
The following days and weeks went very similar to the first day on the road; they would ride during the day and rest at night, sharing stories in the campfire or sharing obscure pieces of knowledge and history of Tamriel. That was until they reached Oldstones; despite officially being only ruins, on the outskirts of the old keep there was a town of middling size. There were guards under a banner Jon failed to recognize—white fishes on fields of grey and golden fish hooks. The guards seemed nervous, something Jon understood; they were outnumbered and outarmed… not that they knew how REALLY outmatched they were. Jon made a sign to Janus, who told his Legionnaires to stay put as Jon rode forward to talk with the guards.
"Halt right there, milord. We do not recognize your banner." One of the guards spoke; he was older than all the other guards by his side; they seemed to understand Jon and his people were not there to pillage or wage war. Jon imagined that if a people could differentiate a traveling party from bandits, it would have to be the riverlanders; their rivers have washed so much blood that if one were to gather it all, they would be able to fill an ocean.
"Hail, guardsman. I am Jon Snow, son of Eddard Stark of Winterfell. Me and my men are traveling to the North as I seek to reunite with my father. We planned on resupplying here so we can follow our path on the morrow." Jon explained. The guardsmen didn't seem to react to his Snow surname, not that Jon expected them to. A bastard with 50 soldiers under him was very much a lord as far as any smallfolk is concerned.
"Lord Keath heir is not too far from here, milord. This small town is no keep, so he will not be able to offer guests right, but I would have your word that no treachery will happen." The old guardsman spoke leadingly. Jon didn't let the man down and immediately nodded his agreement.
"And you shall have it, good man. Me and mine shall not attack unless atacked first." Jon replied, and the old guard seemed to accept his word. Jon then signaled Janus, letting the Centurion know everything was all right.
"Do tell me, how are the Riverlands? I know the Westerlands have been hit particularly badly when the waters rose." Jon asked as he observed the legionnaires and mages pour into the town, many immediately looking for inns and the like. The old guard seemed to age before Jon's eyes.
"We were hit bad, milord; the rivers overflew, and to this date there are villages lost under water. Seagard was almost lost, but when the waters eventually returned to the sea, House Mallister rebuilt it. The town grew even larger than before, as many saw how diligently House Malister was spending their gold taking care of us the folk." The old guard began, and his fellow guards nodded at the old man as if agreeing with his statement. "Riverrun went underwater for two moons, and many were lost, including old Lord Hoster Tully himself. Lord Edmure is Lord Paramount now." The old man informed him; he seemed sad about Hoster Tully's loss, something Jon himself was neutral about. Despite Lady Catelyn's cold demeanor towards Jon, he understood that by any noblewoman status she was almost a saint. Many bastards in High Rock had died for less, so much so that the Empire had to install severe punishments for the mistreatment of bastards back in the first century of the third era.
"That is bad, friend. But so far, the land seems to be recovering well." Jon commented, and it was true; the Riverlands seemed to be recovering far better than House Westerling. "Many villages and traders all around."
"Indeed. In hardship, we find our true friends. The whole Riverlands banned together to help one another in our time of need. Even the Blackwood/Braken feud took a pause for a while, none of them traveling to King's Landing to voice one dispute or another." The old guard said it humourously, making his younger counterparts laugh as well. "All helped except the Frey. When Lady Catelyn got Ned Stark to send help, they tried to get gold from the Northerners. They obviously denied it and had to go around through the Kingsroad." The old man finished; his voice didn't betray his hatred towards House Frey as much as his eyes did.
"I've learned something while away from my family, good man, a fundamental truth that many seem to forget." Jon began, getting the old man's attention, "All actions have consequences, usually proportionate to the action itself. For example, if you kill a man, his son will try to avenge him. Perhaps no one will help House Frey in their time of need. Perhaps someone will stop help from getting to them if someone does send help." Jon mused to himself aloud.
" Aye! Craven cunts all of them. May they starve on that danmmed bridge of theirs." A younger guard said, and Jon nodded amiably.
"Where are you and your men from...? Dragons adorn every part of your man's gear, but I know no child of Stark would be loyal to Targaryens." The Old Man said, Jon narrowed his eyes; the man's speech was too lordly for him to be just a guard. Westeros was not like Tamriel, where everyone could read and were open about their thoughts on the ruling class.
"We hail from Tamriel, a continent west of Westeros. We are... representatives of the ruling Empire of the continent. Tamriel is somewhat similar to Old Valyria... except for blood sacrifices and slavery, of course." Jon began, not seeing a problem in sharing such information; if Jon's estimations about spies in Westeros were remotely correct, all the important players in the Seven Kingdoms most likely already knew of Tamriel and were just waiting on Tywin Lannister's measure of the new "foreigners" and their magic.
"You mean to say you come from a land in the west, a land with dragons and magic and no slaves? Is your Emperor also a God in human form who shits gold and whose voice can give life to dead people?" One of the guards japed, and Jon laughed at how accurate the man's jape was.
"I'm pretty sure the Emperor is not a god, only the son of one, and magic is very much real, good man." Jon said as he made a sword made of ice appear and float in front of the man, who looked almost terrified and would probably scream bloody murder if not for an extremely well-cast calm spell by way of Jon.
"By the seven!" The man exclaimed, and Jon laughed again.