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To claim a throne - The Elder Scrolls » Places

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The Elder Scrolls

10 posts · 4 characters present · last post 2015-04-24 21:22:52 »

         The blanket of the night covered the Hammerfell-Cyrodil border just as it had since the onset of the mythic ages. The crickets serenaded for their mates, owls and other night time predators flew around the forests of Rihad across the Brena River attacking insectoids and small mammalian creatures alike.

Such was the tranquility of the Tamrielic sundown, a light breeze gliding inwards from the Abecean sea to the north, the twin moons of Secunda and Masser reflected brightly from the waters of river and ocean.

The sudden and violent staggering horse hoofs of a galloping black Cheydinhal stallion shattered the natural mirror of the earthbound river, multiple passing shots of arrows and spears littered the mud of the western bank of the Berna river.

A lightly armed messenger covered in matching black to that of his steed cursed and urged his horse onwards as the bandits pursued him. Thought he could easily outrun the ruffians to his rear, their comrades to his front had prepared for the possibility of a mounted traveler. The courier didn't see the wire drawn between two trees on the path ahead before it was too late. If he hand't been a Nord, and a tall one at that, his head might have well been torn off his neck.

The Nord fell to the mud with a thump and a grown of pain, clearly this hadn't been part of the plan when the Nord had accepted this mission but it was useless to complain about it now.

The bandits approached their fallen target without much care to inspect their catch or draw their weapons. Clearly they expected the rider of the valuable horse to be dead, a preconception which was quickly rectified when the Nord drew his blade and masterfully gutted two of their three dozen number.

The Nord held his captures off for several minutes, parrying and redirecting their strikes, however he was outnumbered and soon overwhelmed. With his sword torn away from his hand and several cuts and bruises added to his limbs, nothing it seemed would save the Nord from the axe wielding Redguard bandit chief as he prepared to cut off his head.

As suddenly as the bandits had ambushed the Nord they they where in return ambushed, imperial arrowheads imbedded themselves in as many as half of their score in an instant and the remainder where dispatched by steel plated riders wielding lances and swords. The Nord lifted his sword from the brown muck and cleaned the dirt and blood away using his would be executioner's sleeve.

Three of the Imperial riders dismounted their horses and strode towards the messenger. The oldest among them, a dark Redguard man stood out in his features and stepped first and foremost signifying his position as the force's leader.

"Citizen, what business do you have riding outside the Imperial-Highway and the border outposts? Do you not know that the side roads and paths of the border are frequented by bandits and smugglers alike and are outside our usual area of protection?"
Said the elder Imperial warrior, clearly angered at the Nord's assumed irresponsibility.

The Nord took a moment to catch his breath and inspect his injuries, nothing had been too badly damaged and no bones had been broken. Satisfied the Nord nodded in thanks to his rescuers and proceeded to remove a single scroll from his leather bag, written in what was clearly the Empire's finest paper - delivered almost exclusively to the Imperial City and the High courts of the provincial capitals around the Empire. As a cloud cleared above, the light of the moons reflected for a moment on what was without a doubt the emblem of the Elder Council in Cyrodil.

"I was instructed to deliver a message of the greatest importance to the 10th legion currently garrisoning the provincial border, this message comes from the highest possible channels and in-powers me with the authority to request the aid and protection of any Imperial forces that I may encounter. I ask that you escort me to Rihad with all due haste". Replied the messenger decisively without flinching, like all professionals even messengers had pride.

The Imperial soldiers examined the paper from afar but did not presume to handle it for the moment before returning his gaze to the messenger. "You have my soldiers protection, but if I may I would ask you a few questions; first why you avoided the Imperial-Highway if indeed in the service of our lords and masters. In addition, may I examine the message to authenticate your claims?".

The Nord's eyes narrowed, lightly wounded or not he was still bleeding quite badly and here was this petty officer playing 20 question with him? "I specifically avoided the Imperial Highway because I was instructed to do so and avoid the preying eyes of...certain factions, I am afraid I cannot per those orders hand over this message to anyone other then the Commander of the 10t legion General Amir Shazly. Now I am tired and wounded, may we proceed to Rihad and leave this business to the appropriate channels?"

The soldiers around the Nord inexplicably laughed at these words, even the elder soldier betrayed a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"I am the man which you seek Nord, I am Amir Shazly General and commander of the 10th legion, son of Abbas and brother of Gamal who is the Master for War in the kingdom of Sentinel". Said Amir, showing his ring of office to the messenger before removing the scroll from his hands without resistance.

A few long minutes passed as the general read the scroll, the soldiers betrayed several nervous and excited stares as if they had some idea of what was about to happen next.

"Centurion, give the messenger a new horse and bandage his injuries, make sure he is well attended once we return to camp"
Said the general to the soldier to his right.

"Yes sir, may I ask what are our new orders?"
Said the Centurion gesturing towards the scroll.

The general relented a small smile "You may, instruct all the officers upon our return to camp; all outgoing seaworthy ships in Rihad harbor will be impounded until further notice. We are to assemble our forces and set sail to Anvil at dawn, local garrison forces will enact a curfew in the entire city for the next 48 hours. No one can know of our arrival to Cyrodil until the Elder Council officially sanctions it".

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