Private Dawn of Kingdoms

[Mr.Self Destruct]

The dawn rises.

The sun shines red this morning, crimson light breaking through the cover of darkness and touching upon the ancient and weathered stone walls of Whiterun. Walls that have stood strong for thousands of years, a testament to the endurance and strength of the people of Valora; the Horselords of the North. The air is cold, and the ground covered by a thin layer of frozen dew. Within the city's walls a crow cries out, a stray hound panders back and forth between the streets, a lone, withered beggar bundled in rags grumbles in his uneasy sleep.

It would seem the only one awake in Whiterun was Ronin Waymar, the King. Alone, and in darkness, he paced silently within the throne room of Dragonsreach. In such a large room, surrounded by stone columns which seemed to stand so high they simply faded away into darkness, the King was but a man. He sighed, restless and exhausted yet unable to sleep. He looked up at the haunting visage that was Numinex, the dragon who's skull had watched over the throne of Whiterun since the days before the darkness that was the End War. There was something to the size of such a skull, the empty eyes, filled with shadow, teeth the size of shortswords which even now seemed no duller then they had been millennium ago. The King looked on for a while longer, but those hallowed eyes began to look back at him, and he turned away.

With his back to the dragon's skull, the King looked upon the walls of his throne room; adorned with hundreds of swords. When a Valoran king died, his body was cremated in the skyforge, and in the ashes of royalty, a sword was forged and given to the throne's heir. Ronin glanced over at his sword, the sword of his father, sheathed and hung above the throne. It had been long since that blade last left its sheath.

He stepped out onto the balcony of Dragonsreach, where Numinex had been captured so many years ago. The cold swirled around him, his cloth tunic doing little to keep him warm. It didn't matter, the cold was something you got used to living in Skyrim, something you learned to live with. The King stepped over to the edge of the balcony, and leaned upon the stone guard rail with his face toward the dawn. Before him, a vista of golden plain went on for miles, the colossal peaks of mountains stood in the distance, flanked by shrouds of fog and mist. And though there wasn't a cloud in the sky, the King could feel the coming storm.

 

[Kimrisvik]

The Summerset Isles lay peacefully in the Abecean Ocean as the morningsun rose from the east. A few ships could be seen leaving the docks of New Skywatch and setting for the kingdom of Murkwood with spices. The magicka that once filled the air of the isles had disappeared during the End War, and also made the Altmer leave them for good. But there now was a new era for the isles, with decendants of the Nords, calling themselves Summerners, living on the large islands.

From the courtyard of castle Alinor, sounds of clashing metal and wood beeing bashed together filled the chill morning air. The city guards and the new recruits had already started their morning workout, and amongst them, the youngest of King Richard Chaers son were testing their strenght against each others. "You hit like a girl!" Alx smashed his training spear into his twins right shoulder. "Well, I've met girls who can hit harder than you." Theo bashed his shield straight into Alxs chestplate, forcing him to fall.

"Good Theo. And Alx, better luck next time." Prince Rayne stood on the balcony of the castle and watched his younger brothers train. His silverly hair blew in the wind. The silver colored hair was what the Chaers were known for, and everyone in the family had it. "Father wants to speak with you both. Sounded important." Rayne said shortly and walked back into the castle.

Inside the throneroom King Richard Chaer sat on his throne. The throne were made of wood with ebony trim. Chaers banners hang around the walls. The marine blue fabric with the golden waterhorse on. Both Alx and Theo stopped a few feet from the throne, and waited for their father to tell them what this was all about. "I've got news from Sunhold." Richard said shortly. "Seems like they are ready to rebel against the throne. Stop it." The king waved with his arms to show them that he was done talking. The nodded to his father and turned to one of the servants. "Tell the scribe to write to the Slaveking and ask for more weapons and armors. And that we will double the amount of spice or whatever they want from our trading fleet. Hurry! We need the letter sent as soon as possible!" The servant hurried out of the throne room, heading for the scribes tower.

 

[Osiris]

The red sun emerged from hiding behind the tall, ominous willow trees that encircled the grand city of New Orsinium, capital of Murkwood. The Beastfolk of the slave Kingdom arose from their gentle slumber, and began the daily routine of fishing, making arms and armor, and selling various wares. Children played in the dirt paved streets, Orcish, Khajiit, and Argonian younglings alike all lived harmony. Kazaar gro-Kush, King of Murkwood, gave a heavy sigh as a bead of sweat dripped off the tip of his horned eyebrow. "Shall we continue m'lord?" a raspy voiced Argonian asked, his voice echoed through the small courtyard where they stood. "Heh, of course my friend, come at me again," the aging Orc King said with a smirk, pointing his sword towards his Argonian advisor. "Very well, I'll show you that at least one man can best an Orc!" Goji-Ra exclaimed as he charged Kazaar with twin waraxes held high in the air. Kazaar brought his sword up to deflect the axes, the sound of metal clashing was music to the Orc's ears. After another hour of training, both men retired to inside the giant, Stronghold-like keep.

No sooner than when he walked in, Kazaar was already being pestered by his children. "Father! Where is that damn blacksmith with my blade?! It was suppost to be finished yesterday!" a younger but angry looking Orc stormed down the grandhall to Kazaar's throne, demanding an explanation. "Azog, it is too early in the morning for your insufferable griping!" Kazaar replied with annoyance. "Bolg is busy enough with forging armor and swords for Summerset without having to repair your sword everytime you decide to go and slay a wall!" Azog's left eye twitched slightly at the response, prompting him to storm off in a tantrum. "By Malacath, I don't even know if that boy is an Orc! 21 years old and he acts like this? THIS is who I'm suppost to hand my throne over to?" Kazaar gave a heavy sigh of irritation. "I'm no father m'lord, but I would suggest that the boy be put in his place..once and for all. He has grown too accustomed to this life of luxury he lives, and its a joke." " When I was a child, I had shackles around my ankles, dogs snarling at me as I withered ore away with an old pickaxe in the unforgiving sun..I would have killed a hundred man to be in Azog's position..." Kazaar grumbled at his throne. "Goji-Ra.." the Argonian turned to his King, "Yes m'lord?" "Where is my daughter..?"

The early morning sun shined brightly on the young Orc's face, she slowly opened her eyes, revealing the brilliant orange jewels. Matalya yawned softly and snuggled up against something, only to realize it was sitting on the edge of her bed. "Good morning love," a Khajiit with ruffled white fur said as he put on his shirt. "Well your up early, didn't I tire you out enough?" the princess giggled and lay across her bed, hand pressed against her cheek. "Khajiit are never tired, I hope you're aren't too sore from last night," the cat smirked and gave the lovely young Orc a wink. "Please, I crave pain," she said seductively, running her finger against the Khajiit's furry back. "Ugh, I really don't feel like getting dressed today," Matalya groaned, throwing up her blanket and revealing her smooth body in all it's glory. "Quite a view from over here," he chuckled, "Oh shut up, your too much," Matalya replied playfully, starting to get into her daily attire. "Princess Matalya? Princess, your Father requests your presence immediately," the voice of a familiar lizard man came from behind the door. "plops..you have to go now lov..." Matalya turned around to find her bedroom window wide open, and no Khajiit in sight. "Men..they just hit it and quit it," the Princess mumbled in annoyance..

"Good morning Matalya, sleep well?" Kazaar asked, not looking up from a book he was reading from his throne. "I guess, I had this slight pain..you know, umm..down there.." the Princess replied, a devilish smile stretching in her mind. Kazaar looked up from his book, "Oh, well umm.." his cheeks burned a bright red, "That's something your mother would know a remedy to," the King thought of something to say quickly. "Speak of the Daedra.." he said to himself as his wife, Queen Ghorza, walked towards the King and his Daughter. "Morning my loves," the Queen smiled and kissed both of them on the cheek. "Kazaar, can I speak with you alone for a moment?" the Queen asked innocently. "After this book dear," the King replied, barely paying attention. "NOW!" the Queen exclaimed angrily, Kazaar almost jumping out of his seat and following his lover to a more private location. "Look Kazaar, Matalya is 17 now..she is an adult, a beautiful Orcish Woman. Whats more is that she is a Princess, and she I think its time that we start looking for eligible prospe..." "NO." Kazaar cut her off, much to the Queen's annoyance. "We have already discussed this, There ARE no Kingdoms around here with Orcish Princes," kazaar stated, "I won't let my only daughter be wed to some human or Elf filth!" he added in a wild tone. "Damn it Kazaar! It doesn't matter! don't you want her to be happy?" the Queen demanded an answer. "Of course I do, but I'm thinking of the bigger picture here.."

"No, you're thinking of yourself!" the Queen cut him off. "Kazaar....do you remember when we first met?" the Queen asked softly. "Like it was only a moon ago, I would see you in secret, at night when the guards were sleeping, had to slip out of shackles real quiet," Kazaar chuckled. "Well you remember how exciting it was? the passion? the feeling in your heart when we first fell in love?" Ghorza asked, looking into her King's eyes. "Don't you want that for your daughter? she's not a little Orc anymore love, shes a woman now..its time she leaves the stronghold, and sees the world outside of the Kingdom walls.." Ghorza said smiling. "I..fine..tell Goji-Ra to send letters to the other Kingdoms.." he sighed, "Don't worry, she will be fine," the Queen assured her husband, kissing him on the lips before walking out..

 

[Skyrimosity]

The sun rose once more on the Kingdom of Daggerfall, signaling the start of another busy day. King Dunane Gaering looked on his Kingdom from the tallest tower of his castle. In the city of Daggerfall, he could see the merchants hurrying to their stores or setting up their stalls. They looked so small from where he was.

In another direction lay the Illiac Bay, splitting The Kingdom of Daggerfall from any possible enemies in what once was Hammerfell. King Dunane could see the fishermen, trying to catch their living. The Bay was plentiful in game, so most days the fishermen caught enough to support their lifestyle. The same applied to the seas in the North.

Looking toward the outermost part of the Kingdom, King Dunane could see the outlines of the Wrothgarian Mountains. The mountains have served as the border of Daggerfall for nearly one-hundred years. Many hope Daggerfall will one day conquer all lands of former High Rock, but there are smaller tribes and other small kingdoms in the way. Many of which are hostile.

King Dunane walked down the stairs of the tower and took a seat upon his throne. He saw as his bodyguards stood by the door, ever vigilant. It always made him feel safer. At that moment, Queen Elanna walked down and took a seat upon her throne. Whereas King Dunane's throne was tall, decorated, and elegant, the Queen's throne was shorter and less extravagant.

Queen Elanna was the first to speak "Good morning, Dunane. I see you awoke earlier than I. Tell me, did you go to the tower again?"

"You know I did, my Queen. And you also know I hate to wake you up. You look ever the more beautiful when you awake naturally." Queen Elanna was the love of Dunane's life and he never let her forget it, even now as they were both in their later years. The King being 58 years old and the Queen being 56.

Elsewhere in the tower, Corrick Gaering woke up next to his wife and contemplated killing her. For the hundredth time. Their wedding was an arranged one as Corrick found no one for his marriage ceremony. He was wed to this woman for eleven years now, and has done all in his power to distance himself. Some days, he goes out into the city and seduces single women just so he has something else to think about.

Outside the city limits, the army encampment begins to become alive. The soldiers eat their breakfast and begin their training for to be a soldier in the Army of Daggerfall, one must be a capable fighter. The second son of the King, Alain Gaering, is sent to help train new recruits. He is considered one of the best fighters in the entire army, though his nobility has not helped his advancement. In fact, there are many who wonder why his rank is so low for his great talent.

Back at the castle, the rest of the Nobility awakens. It gives the King great joy to see his children. Ruran, his youngest son, wakes up every morning and returns to the castle at night. He spends his days training for the Army, ready to enlist at the age of sixteen which is only half a year away.

Next to see him is his loving daughter Adrienne. She has been married since her eighteenth birthday, as per tradition, and at the age of twenty-two is greatly enjoying all of her royal privileges. King Dunane's youngest child, Arielle, is the last to awake. She comes out of her room only briefly to say hello to her mother and after that is done she returns to her room.

The King turned to Queen Elanna and spoke once more. "I worry for our children. We almost never see Alain. Corrick commits adultery, is hated by most of my people, and seems to be too pampered to realize what most of this Kingdom is even like. Adrienne spends a lot of time with Corrick, and the two are best friends. I wonder if Corrick's personality will rub off on her, or if Adrienne's personality will rub off on him. And Arielle, never speaks to me! Always in her room!"

The Queen spoke calmly "I worry too. However, the best we can do is let them run their own lives. You were not the best child in all of Daggerfall either. Yet you turned into a great King, my love. We can only hope the same happens to Corrick."

At that time, a messenger appeared in front of the King.

"King Dunane, I have word from General Dalan..." Dalan Gaering was the brother of King Dunane and in charge of Daggerfall's military. He informed the King of his decisions and of all the happenings of the Army, even though Dalan has the control. "... he says an enemy tribe is making a concentrated attack from the mountains. The Army is preparing an ambush, but he requests your presence to increase the morale of the troops. The enemy is approaching from the Mountains, so meet him north of Camlorn."

Yet another attack by a tribe into Kingdom Land. The King does not fear them, but worries of a day when his enemies might ally together and attack.

 

[Delusional]

The sun was rising over the distant horizon, blanketing the sprawling desert before King Andromolek in a magnificent purple and orange glow. A gentle breeze rolled across the landscape, running its fingers through the young man's silvery black hair, and gliding off his bare body. His rich, blue eyes gazed straight ahead; he was deep in thought. Much was required of the King, and often it weighed heavy on Andromolek's mind.

The sun slowly lifted itself from the horizon and began its daily ascent into the sky. Usually that signaled time for the King to return to his chambers and ready himself for the long day ahead of him. The young, dark-skinned man turned away from the railing on the sandstone balcony and stepped back through the ajar door into his chambers. The light breeze followed the king in, slightly lifting the heavy curtains that were draped over the windows of the chamber and rustling the bedsheets. His wife and queen stirred underneath them, and sat up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Hey, what it is, love?" Her voice was soft and gentle, soothing Andromolek of his restlessness. She rose from the bed, her body bare as well, and moved towards the young king in a beautiful grace.

"It's... nothing," he replied as his queen Arri wrapped her arms around his torso, their warm bodies touching.

"I know how stressful running this kingdom can be, especially with brothers like yours." She nuzzled lightly in Andromolek's neck, relaxing the young king more.

"Yes, it's just everything. I need a break from it all, once in a while..." His voice trailed off into silence; a beautiful silence, that seemed to still the breeze in the chambers.

Andromolek broke away, and began to dress himself in the usual, flowing red garments over a suit of ringmail that he dressed in on most days. After a quick kiss from his wife, the young king set out to begin his day.

On a normal day, Andromolek would take an early morning walk through the streets of Sandstone, but today was one of those days. His brothers, the lords of the other two major cities in the kingdom of Azar Harif, would be staying in Sandstone for a week, for many reasons - many of which upset the king, mostly out of their stupidity, but also their greediness.

By the time Andromolek had reached the throne room, his brothers and their courts had already arrived and were awaiting the king, perhaps eagerly, or perhaps impatiently. It was hard to tell with his two-faced brothers.

"Ah, I see you have been waiting for me. Excuse my tardiness," Andromolek said politely, nodding a good morning to his twin brother Verolek, his military advisor; Ezekiel, his thane and political advisor, both of which were seated on opposite sides of his magnificent sandstone throne, in front of his two loyal honor guards, Damahur and Myro.

Today will be long and painful, and I will not see my children until this evening... Andromolek thought gloomily as he reclined lazily in his throne, bracing himself for the hours to come. Gods, do I hate my brothers, save Verolek.

"So, what orders of business would you prefer to discuss first?" Andromolek nearly flinched while asking this, as he knew the response already. It would be a barrage of arguments between his brothers' courts, each in need of a string of demands, or perhaps a lengthy debate on political matters Andromolek had already decided. Whatever it may be, it would likely be a waste of time for the Scorpion.

Silence, surprisingly, overtook the throne room. His older brother, Thuran, gazed up at the young with with a surprisingly respectful look. "Brother and king, we have for once settled on these issues, to which we present to you now."

"Alright, go on..." Andromolek returned the gaze, surprised at the unlikely turn of events.

"It appears that foreign ships have been spotted near our shores. Their motives are unknown, but they have laid anchor and do not indicate any signs of going anywhere. We both fear they are attempting to blockade us." Thuran gazed wistfully at Andromolek, standing motionless in his fancy orange garments.

A chuckle escaped the king's lips before he could respond. "Ha, blockade... I dare them to see how well that feat works. Do you have any ideas of who these vessels belong to?"

Thuran turned to his brother Marwan, who nodded and turned back to the king, ready to answer his question. "There are no definite signs; we believe it to be those spice traders from the Isles."

"Hmph." Andromolek gently rubbed his chin stubble with his right hand as he thought. "Their attempts are futile. However..."

His brothers Thuran and Marwan gazed up to Andromolek thoughtfully and eagerly, as if they were awaiting a certain response.

"However, a message must be sent. Sink all but one of their ships, and send the survivor back with 'a message'... yes, that will do." A smirk grew on the young king's face as he saw his brothers' expressions light up in agreement.

"Now excuse me, I must fetch us some wine." Andromolek rose from his throne and started down the main hallway, his footsteps ringing loudly off the marble and sandstone floor beneath him.

 

[Kimrisvik]

"Rayne!" The king looked furious as he called for his son. "Rayne! You there. Go get my son!" He shouted at one of the servants in the throneroom. Next to him, Queen Ashlyn sat in silence and watched him call for his oldest son. The king leaned back into his throne and reread the letter he had gotten. His silverly hair had started to turn grey and his beard was untrimmed.

The main door to the room opened, and in stepped Prince Rayne Chaer. His long and beautiful hair were almost as shiny as his armor, that clinched for each step he took. He had soft and tan skin, with just a small scar on the right cheek. He stopped infront of his father, and gave some of the servant girls a smile.

"If you could keep your attention on me." The king said with bitternes in his voice. "What is it, father?" Richard handed him the letter he had in his hands. "What were our ships doing blockading their port?" His voice was calm, but still bitter. "I was hoping they would negotiate, set up a trade agreement." Rayne tried to sound confident. "How many ships?" The prince looked over at his mother for help.
"Seven."
"And now six of those lay on the bottom of the sea... And for what? Sand? They got nothing we need!"

Prince Rayne turned around and starded walking to the doors again. "And one more thing..." Something in the voice of his father made it sound important. Rayne turned around and hoped that his father was done with the ships. Richard held up another letter he had gotten. "From Murkwood." He said shortly. "Seems like the slaves daugther has come of age for marriage." Prince Rayne got shocked. He had heard many stories from the traders that the princess of Murkwood was a beauty. "And now you want me..." "Not you!" The king interrupted. "One of your brothers. I wouldn't let my heir marry her. What would then happen? There would be a halfbreed on the throne. And sooner or later my blood and name would be no more than history. No. Send a letter and tell the Slaveking that I have two sons for her. That would be all." Prince Rayne turned around and went back to the courtyard.

"You know Kazaar wouldn't let his daugther marry a human." Queen Ashlyn said shortly and laid her hand on his knee. "Then he is the stupidest king in all of Tamriel!" King Richard grunted as he took a sip from his winebottle. "Not stupid... He just had a rough past with humans. And we can't blame him. He's been through much." The king just grunted again.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

As the sun peaked through the many tall, narrow stained-glass windows in the throne room of Castle Riverhead and formed ribbons of colored light, Queen Margonet Hawker was up early. Early for everyone else, of course; she insisted on getting to work as soon as possible each day, and for the short time that her change of schedule had been in place, she was the one to adopt it most. So she sat, waiting for her family to convene.

Growing restless, she lifted her lean frame from her throne, an ornate work of master craftsmanship that consisted of a frame of purified malachite, blue leather cushions, and decorative inlays of flawless sapphire and jade. She entered the hall right of the throne room, which led to the royal family's quarters, and opened a window. Leaning on the sill, she gazed out at her relatively new domain. The domain itself, reaching from the northern highlands to the great river's outlet in the south, was not new; the founder of Riverhead, Alussanah Hawker, had claimed it many centuries prior. But her rule of the kingdom was new. Less than a month before, her mother Tavia had stepped down from the throne. She would do that one day. That day was a long day off, she knew, because Tavia had left Riverhead in the hands of the youngest queen in the kingdom's history.

That was why she was up so early; there was doubt in the kingdom that Margonet was ready to take charge, a belief that she lacked the skill necessary to lead Riverhead effectively. She intended to prove the doubters wrong, and then some. True, her mother had left a good deal on her plate; Azar Harif was troublesome as always, there was pressure to expand westward, and she had an alliance to renew with the Summerset Isles. To add to it all, she still lacked the Royal Blessing of Juleion'r. Footsteps in the hall pulled the Queen from her thoughts. "Margonet, dear, how you run your kingdom is your business, but you really don't need to wake so early. I got along just fine waking an hour later than this." Tavia smiled at her daughter.

"Mother, you know the sentiments of some who say I don't know what I'm doing. I think the only way to show that I mean business is to start earlier and stay later. And if you had waited to step down, you could wake whenever you liked."

"You know that a Hawker Queen is to step down when she has done her share of governing and has a daughter who is ready to take her place. I met those criteria. Now come, everyone else should be ready shortly." Margonet followed her mother to the throne room, just as General Camaron was walking in.

"Sister, I'm ready with my report," Camaron said as Margonet sat in her throne, Tavia taking a seat away from the throne, to the right.

"You know I prefer 'Queen', General."

"Of course. Would you here my report now?"

"Let us wait for Dukes Kotoro and Coyle."

As if on cue, the two uncles of the Queen entered, bickering. "Surely the Queen will grant me an extra garrison to defend Hillcrest!" Coyle exclaimed. "You discount Murkwood! They have no love for us, you must know!" Kotoro countered.

"My Queen, you surely know of the threat of Azar Harif? I would request a garrison able to protect Hillcrest should they invade."


"My Queen, the beastfolk of Murkwood as great a threat as Azar Harif, if not greater! They resent the races of men, and also have great potential to serve as unsuspicious attackers!"

The Queen stood up to quiet her uncles. "Neither of your fears are valid! Azar Harif will not attack if not provoked, and Murkwood certainly has no intent to make war. I received this letter from House Kazaar this morning." She produced the letter and read, "Kingdoms of Tamriel, the daughter of House Kazaar is of age and seeks marriage. Those with eligible sons should announce their interest. We can discuss this later, General, but it would seem you are an eligible son of this House. Now, General, your report?"

"There are rumors of an uprising in the Isles, and they have also seen a blockade of Azar Harif decimated. I would advise sending a division to assist House Chaer in putting down the revolt; it would signify your great willingness to continue the alliance. Daggerfall's surrounding tribes are as tumultuous as ever, and Velora's witchmen problem continues. Now, this offers us a few opportunities. Being uneasy with both those kingdoms, we could just as easily take those lands for ourselves as forge new bonds by offering support to their rulers."

"You would send troops to aid in a foreign land as opposed to your own kingdom? I'd might as well secede, as it's clear you have no concern for your home and kin!"

"Oh, Juleion'r help me," Margonet mumbled.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

The sun rising of the horizon, every river in southern black marsh glistened and sparkled. Lilmoth, once no more than a city had became a nation during the events of the end war. Their borders shared only with the sea and the people of Murkwood. The once small capital city of blackrose was now Whitescale, large, more beautiful, better in every way. The small family of blackrose was a close and powerful family. Lex Blackrose, the king of Lilmoth was just waking in the ever busy city.

Silently stepping out of his bed and getting dressed in the fine but humble clothes of a Lilmoth noble. He placed his crown on his head. The crown was mostly black ebony, in the shape of vines and thorns, coming to the shape of a black flower in the front and a ruby placed in the middle of the petals. The canine like beast of a man had just taken a seat on his throne when a young boy came to him holding a letter. The king thanked him and gave him coins, remembering just how important every person in the kingdom of Lilmoth was. He read the letter to himself.

"Kingdoms of Tamriel, the daughter of House Kazaar is of age and seeks marriage. Those with eligible sons should announce their interest.
Lex stood up eagerly, there had always been somewhat of an alliance between Murkwood and Lilmoth ever since boundaries had been drawn within blackmarsh. It was a young kingdom, recently slaves, and still living in huts. Lex's son Ladro had been much of a bachelor recently and was eager for marriage. Lex ran through the stone and wood castle that house blackrose lived in. Reaching his son's room, Lex called out to his still asleep son.

"Ladro! Wake up! I bring good news!" Lex called out.
"What is it father?" Ladro said slowly as he woke up.
"Princess Kazaar is of age and is ready for marriage, son" Lex said.
"Really!? I mean... ummm... that's good news for us but you surely do not wish for me to marry her." Ladro said trying to hide the fact that he had been very attracted to her since they first met during a meet between the two kingdoms.
"Of course I do! She's very beautiful, and the marriage would be great for political reasons." Lex said as Ladro was already getting dressed."Let's go then!" Ladro said running off towards the balcony.

The two stepped onto the edge of their balcony, closed their eyes, and took a deep breath. Jumping off, the two free fell as their backs snapped and ribs cracked. Arms elongating and chaning, legs shortening, and noses hardening. Just before reaching the ground the the two moved what had once been arms and flew upwards. It was common knowledge that the Blackrose family were all werevultures. They had picked it up in vallenwood a millennium ago.


At incredible speeds, the two flew off towards murkwood. They would be there before any other prince could even dream of.

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

Ronin sighed, he turned away from the dawn and headed back inside. It was time he bathed and dressed himself, by midday his brothers would arrive from their own towns and cities. The King had convened a summit to discuss the war with the Reachmen, a war that his brother, Victus, was currently leading. He stepped back into his throne room to find that his steward; Bori, was awake. Bori was a young, yet very shrewd and loyal servant to the King. "Ah, m'lord, you weren't in your chambers. You didn't sleep?" Ronin looked at him with tired and restless eyes, pale blue and wrinkled. "No, are the children awake?" Asked the King, changing the subject. "Mora and Caiden are still in their quarters, and Raiden is--" "Father!" "...Here."

Raiden Waymar, the prince, came running across the loft. He was the spitting image of his father, albeit much younger. He had the same rugged, tall complexion with high cheekbones, a pronounced nose and a strong jawline. Although he was lacking the King's beard, he wore his pale, silky hair the same as his father did. "Mora's gone again," He said in between heavy breaths. The King felt anger stirring within him, he hadn't the patience to deal with antics now. "Saren and Dorian will be here soon, I don't have the time to deal with this. Find her, and bring her to me." The thought of his daughter, his last child, brought back memories of his wife, of the birth that killed her. Although he knew he shouldn't, he always resented his daughter for it. It didn't help that Mora had taken on the visage of her mother to the last detail. "I'll have the guard search for her, she's probably in the market as usual." assured Bori, standing up straight. "A bath will be prepared for you, m'lord, your brothers shall be here soon."

The city had awoken, the clamor of market goers and the morning crowds filled the air as the Valoran began a new day; for most, a new day of hard work. In the stables outside the walls, horses were being trained and cared for. Elegant beasts of Tamriel's finest stock. Though few were rich; even the King himself hadn't the deepest coffers, they were a happy people who took pride in their work. Sights of luxury and wealth were unbeknownst to many of them, so when Saren and Dorian Waymar arrived in a carriage adorned with gold and ebony carried by two white stallions many couldn't help but gawk.

They rode through the city, parting the crowds of ranchers, merchants, blacksmiths and farmers who looked on in awe of such an illustriously designed carriage. "So these are the Horselords of Valora." Saren jested, running his golden ringed fingers through his black beard. He was dressed in fine fabrics, and complemented with jewelry; rings, necklaces, bands. The sight of him had made Dorian Waymar sick, who even now couldn't keep his scowl off his face. He hated Saren, how arrogant and self serving he was. He hated him even more for having to hitch a ride with him in his carriage. "Yes, Saren, they are."

The carriage took them right up to the castle, where they were greeted by the King himself standing atop the steps leading to the great hall. The King wore his crown, forged from white gold and emblazoned with sapphires. He was dressed well, yet practically in a fur overcoat wore atop a silk tunic. As the doors to the carriage open, Saren pushed aside a servant and got out on his own. Ronin narrowed his eyes.

"Brother!" Saren exclaimed with a crooked and feigned smile. Ronin felt anger welling up inside him, disgust for the pig he knew as his kin. From a young age, Saren had always been a shady and scheming trouble maker. Perhaps if father wasn't so hard on him... thought Ronin, who watched on as Dorian was led from the carriage. Dorian was a good brother, and an honest one, a true Valoran. Though he was awfully fat; life as a Jarl didn't leave much room for exertion. He smiled at his pudgy brother, and Dorian smiled back.

The three of them gathered around a table within the castle's private rooms. Drinks were brought to them, and platters of food; venison, the King's favorite, was served almost exclusively. After eating, they had their dishes set aside and got down to business. "Victus tells me that the war effort is hard and grueling. They need more food, but otherwise the fortifications along Valora's western border are holding." Sending Victus wasn't a choice Ronin prided himself in, he had planned for both of them to go to the battlefield, yet two years ago when the attacks began, the King had fallen ill and Victus was left to make the journey himself. "Waystead hasn't any to spare." Asserted Saren, looking disinterested in the entire ordeal. This made Dorian furious, "Because you spend every coin on yourself!" He boomed, standing from the table. Though he was honest and true, he was quick to anger. "Speak for yourself, Horker!"

"Enough!" Roared the King, standing from the table as the room immediately fell silent. Dorian grumbled, sitting back down. "Saren, I didn't make you Jarl so you could piss away every coin on jewelry," The King continued, stopping himself when he realized Saren was looking away." "Look at me when I speak to you!" He thundered, and Saren turned to face his brother with an expression which looked as if he was about to cry. "I hadn't the time for your accusations and disingenuous assertions." He said meekly, before standing and storming out of the room. Ronin sighed, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have trusted him with his position" He remarked, the anger leaving him. "Victus should've had Waystead." Ronin continued solemnly. "Don't blame yourself, brother. I'll increase aid for the troops if I can, and I'll speak to Saren, he'll come around." He assured as he stood. Ronin looked on, sighing. "I hope so."

"Savages."

Victus Waymar looked on in disgust from atop his steed, his eyes narrowed behind his steel helmet adorned with a frill of horse hair. He and his horse; a chestnut stallion, were clad in ringmail and iron plate, and to his side were other soldiers mounted upon their own warhorses. In total, Victus had around 50,000 men when he first left for the front. Now, the troops spread along the border numbered half of that, and the men currently with him on the battlefield numbered around 3,000. Most of which consisted of foot soldiers, and each and everyone of them hungry and tired. Life on the front had been grueling, a constant trading of blows between them and the Reachmen.

What was left of the army stood with Victus, looking on against a horde of Reachmen; a mob much larger than their own. The sight of them, prancing and hooting around garbed in animal skins, smelling of filth and decay and brandishing crude clubs and cudgels made Victus sick. For the rest of his men, it terrified them. They were against a truly fearsome enemy, an enemy that relished in death and killing. From their position, they could hear the mocking cries of the enemy. Their chants to their wretched gods filled the air, a chorus of illegible and guttural speech. Victus glanced around, seeing the fear in his men, he sighed, before flipping open his helmets visor, taking his reigns and riding forward so that he stood before his men.

"Do you see those creatures?!" He roared, pointing his sword toward the horde. "I pity them!"

"Their stock has made them larger than you, stronger than you, faster than you. Their gods tell them to murder and die without care. The land they walk upon has spawned wretched beasts who kill and rape and leave nothing behind! Their horde outnumbers us three to one!" Thundered Victus, holding his sword up so that the rising sun reflecting off the gleaming steel. "And by tonight, every one of them shall be dead!"
"For a thousand years our Kingdom has held the line, our Kingdom has struggled since it was birthed, against winter, against plague, against war! They know not our suffering, and that is why you will strike down upon them with the fury of the gods! I'll be damned if our walls fall to a horde of beasts!" He roared, and his men roared back, the fear had all but left them. Victus slapped down his helmets visor, turning to face the enemy. "Kill them all!" He cried, and his men cried back as they charged without fear, the thunder of a thousand hooves striking upon the ground and the deafening cries of his men filled the air as they tore across the field, swords raised.

And in that moment, it wasn't the Valoran who were afraid.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

Queen Margonet quieted the arguing in her court. "Coyle, Kotoro, you are dismissed. General, muster five hundred troops to go to the aid of House Chaer and prepare them to sail for the Isles. You," she said to a nearby servant, "fetch Court Mage Rackham. And a scribe." The man left, and in a few moments he returned followed by Wallace Rackham, a strong, rugged yet presentable fair-skinned Redguard who looked more like a soldier than a scholar. "Mr. Rackham, I have a message I would like to relay to the Isles, and I understand you can do this for me faster than if I were to send a ship southward with my letter."


"I can, Majesty. Do you have the letter ready?"

"I will shortly. Where is my scribe?" An Imperial in a silken blue robe shuffled in with a blank piece of paper and a quill pen.

"Take this down," the Queen ordered. "To King Richard of House Chaer: Since I have taken the mantle of Queen of Riverhead, we have not yet arranged to formally renew our kingdoms' alliance. I should like to do so in the near future, but at present I understand you are preoccupied with dissent among your people. As a gesture of my willingness to renew our alliance, I have arranged to send a division of Riverhead's finest troops to bolster your ranks as long as the need arises. When this crisis subsides, I expect some correspondence indicating your willingness to remain aligned. Signed, Queen Margonet Hawker." The scribe handed the Queen the letter, and she made her signature below the printing of her name. "Now, Mr. Rackham, if you could see to it that King Richard has this letter shortly, it would be appreciated."

~~~

General Camaron Hawker walked briskly down the steps from the great marble Castle Riverhead, passing shimmering pools of magically infused water that danced in a beautiful plethora of colors. It was a majestic residence, built in the style of any other castle, but offering hints at the tradition of the forefathers of Riverhead and their old home in ancient Hammerfell. The white edifice's windows were curved like an old desert castle, and ornate domes topped the towers. Camaron hated it.

He had proven himself a great mage, fighter, and strategist, and had proven that he could do anything on his own which he set his mind to; he reported to the Queen as if they were not related, he lived in Riverhead's military headquarters, and didn't make decisions based on petty politics, and yet he could not escape his name. Promotions had always come a little faster for him. He always found glory in the battles he fought, despite sometimes purposefully bucking for a reprimand or a poor assignment. He would concede, however, that there was once a time when his name would've been little help, back when Alussanah was building the kingdom from the ashes of Cyrodiil and had to fight for every inch of land his family now commanded.

Camaron continued walking down the great main avenue which stretched from the central northern gate of the city of Riverhead, all the way to the castle, between the southern docks and the city's center. Fine artisans and renowned merchants lined the streets, with almost all of the populace, excepting the wealthy, living along side-streets behind the front of commerce. At the very center of Riverhead there sat Alussanah's Square, a plaza large enough to hold a statue of Queen Alussanah battling courageously alongside Juleion'r, and a good deal of foot and cart traffic. Due to the ancient Queen's preference for the arcane that served to shape all of Riverhead, and Juleion'r being primarily a god of magic, there was a constant flurry of decorative magical light surrounding the mythic pair's image.

The General turned right, toward the huge marble headquarters of the Army of Riverhead with its great decorative columns. A splash interrupted his thoughts, and he looked down to see that he had stepped in a puddle. The rippling water showed the reflection of a man with the hazelnut brown skin, black irises, aristocratic face, and strong jaw of a Hawker. Unlike the others in his family, however, Camaron had sandy blond hair. Water had splashed onto his armor, chain link covered by gleaming steel plates, with a white cloth garment covering part of his armored torso. Both his ample pauldrons bore the crest of Riverhead.

 

[Osiris]

The clashing of a hammer against hot iron echoed through the armory as kazaar furiously pounded the scalding metal with his tools. Blacksmithing was one of the few things the Orc King could do to channel his anger and stress, many Orsimer released their anger this way, that is..when there was no enemy to be found to fight. "Sire, the letters regarding the courting of Matalya have been delivered, I suspect a few suitors to be on there way," Goji-Ra announced to his lord. "ugh..Wonderful," Kazaar grumbled sarcastically, dreading this day for years, "Thank you Goji-Ra, to which Kingdoms hath thou send letters?" the Orc asked, raising an eyebrow and proceeding to bring a different sword to the grinding wheel. "If I recall correctly, I have issued letters to the Kingdoms of Summerset, Lilmoth, Azar Harif, Daggerfall, Riverhead, and Valo.." the Argonian stopped dead in his sentence, Kazaar's sword almost flew off the grinding stone. "You sent a letter..regarding MY daughter..TO VALORA?!" the King stood up and roared, Goji-ra sunk in fear. Kazaar took a deep breath, remembering that the Argonian was his friend after all. "Goji-Ra, you know very well that I am..distrustful of the humans at best.." the King said in a low voice. "But there is one kingdom of humans that I HATE, and that Kingdom..is Valora," he added, a bitter taste entered his mouth as he said the name. "Their people, along with those bastard Dunmer, had enslaved OUR Beastfolk for hundreds of years," he reminded the Argonian. In truth, it wasn't the Valora that had done the act per say..rather, it was the organized tribes that later went on to form Valora that did. "I..im sorry m'lord, it was an honest mistake.." the Argonian said nervously, trying not to further anger the Orc. "I know Goji, its alright. Knowing them, those Nords probably don't even know how to read a letter, much less reply to our proposal." Kazaar sighed, "If by chance they DO send an eligible bachelor, we will treat them with respect and hospitality, just as they would if we were in their position..or not, they are savages that ride horses, I wouldn't be surprised if they bedded their own kin," the Orc bellowed a deep laugh.

Else where, Queen Ghorza entered her Daughter's bedchambers to talk with her about the up coming events. "I am so happy my child, I have waited for this moment for such a LONG time!" the Queen exclaimed as she sat on the bed with Matalya, braiding the princess's long dark hair. "As am I mother, but..I've never even SEEN a human prince, Father won't even let me go to the docks to catch a glimpse of the sailors from Summerset!" Matalya argued. "I know, I know..but times are changing, your father's stubbornness must come to an end if he expects this Kingdom to flourish. Though for you AND your father's sake, lets hope that boy from Blackrose has taken a liking to you since the LAST time you met," Ghorza chuckled lightly. Matalya thought back to when she first met Ladro, years ago during a meeting between the two beast Kingdoms. "Well..he was very quiet, but polite, AND a looker," Matalya giggled as she recalled the Lilmothit's bold, fox-like face. "Haha, that's the right attitude love," and lets not forget those handsome young men from Azar Harif, Summerset, and Riverhead," the Queen smirked. "Azar Harif? that Redguard kingdom?" Matalya asked curiously as she envisioned what the dark skinned men might look like, she had only heard stories from the other girls in Murkwood, remembering that they always mentioned the rather large.."assets," that Redguard men bore, Matalya blushed at the thought...

"Goji-ra, issue a statement to the dock workers, I want these suitors to arrive at the docks, and brought through the swamps here, by river," Kazaar demanded, knowing that it was near impossible to traverse the dense marshes without a river guide. "Right away m'lord!," Goji-ra saluted and hurried off to the docks, miles away from the main kingdom, on the far east coast. Kazaar stood and walked over to his throne, slumping in his seat and burying his fist in his cheek, eyelids dropping. "Malacath, please give me the strength to not rip these 'suitors' apart," he grumbled, the idea of horny young men oogling his daughter was repulsive to him.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Lex and Ladro flew ever so gracefully through the air towards murkwood. The nation was soon in sight and the two landed at the entrance to the area. They walked among the huts towards the sight where the king would most likely be.

"Remember son, her father is very protective. If you really want to impress him. Try to prove that you wont be marrying her simply for sex and politics. Lex said as they walked past countless khajiit, orcs, an argonians.

It wasn't before long they passed a argonian to which they knew was an adviser to the king and soon reached the man himself. Lex stepped in front of his son, in case the orc was in a worse mood than expected.

"Excuse me sir, it is Lex and Ladro Blackrose here on account on your invitation." Lex said, being as polite as possible during the meeting. Lex could only hope that his arrival being early would help. Lex was not always happy to share borders, but there were definitely benefits.

 

[Osiris]

Kazaar sat straight up and took a long drink from his goblet, a hollowed out human skull, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "M'Lord, the suitor and King of Blackrose have arrived," Goji-ra bowed as he introduced the Lilmothit. "By the 16 that was fast!" Kazaar thought, scanning the two over. "Ah, Lord Lex of the Southern Marshes..it has been too long," Kazaar said with a surprised tone, standing up and grabbing the King's hand, pulling him towards him and giving him a rough pat on the back. "And Ladro, by the gods you've grown!" the King pretended to be interested in his daughter's suitor, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and looking down at him, the Orc towering over the young prince. "Here, you probably didn't travel all this way to gawk at me..MATALYA, come here at once!" the King roared, shaking the ground where they stood. Princess Matalya stepped out from around the corner of the long set of stairs, sporting a lovely but somewhat revealing dress. She looked at the two beast men and smiled brightly, fixing her hair as she journeyed down the plight of stairs. "Oh..my..God, Ladro! I haven't seen you in soooo long!" she exclaimed happily and surprised the prince with a hug, her cleavage pressing tightly against the Fox's chest. Kazaar cleared his throat in annoyance, Matalya suddenly stepped back embarrassed, "I mean, its good to see you again, I take it you've been well?" the Princess asked, a pink blush radiating from her cheeks. "I suppose I will leave you two be, you have much catching up to do. Come Lex, let us discuss other matters," he led the King of Blackrose to another room, passing Goji-ra, "Don't let her out of your sight..." the King murmured to the Lizard in a low tone. Kazaar brought Lex to the balcony overlooking the legendary forest of Murkwood, "Tell me m'lord, what news of the other Kingdoms?" Kazaar asked as he poured his fellow king a glass of fine Argonian Ale. "Rumor has it that Valora is having trouble with the Witchmen of the Reach," he said with a sly smile.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Ladro smiled politely at Kazaar, showing the respect that the man deserved. He had grown in many ways, and was no longer the foolish and quite cub that he was five years ago. He was 19 and it showed. His muscles had tightened since the fly. When Matalya had entered the room his expression brightened. He was happy to recieve the hug, his soft black fur meeting her skin, he felt the intentional cleavage pushing against him. She was always flirty and that would cause quite the problem once the other men were here.
"I mean, its good to see you again, I take it you've been well?" Matalya said.
"Yes, I have been doing quite well. It's a struggle to achieve much when someone such as Drake is your brother." Ladro said happily to the girl.

Drake had always been a perfect child. He was skilled in battle, smart, strong, courageous, and good looking. The two brothers were close though, and Ladro was always coming close to exceeding his brother in those respects. Ladro and Matalya took a seat across from each other at a table. It would be quite a while until the others were here, they couldn't fly, nor were they close.

"You look lovely as always. How have things been in Murkwood? Ladro asked kindly, sliding his foot against Matalya's leg.


Lex followed Kazaar into the next room. Unsure whether the man would want to speak of politics, or other things.
"Rumor has it that Valora is having trouble with the Witchmen of the Reach," The man said to Lex.
"Yes, unfortunately I don't think those witchmen will stand much of a chance against their horse army. We however could if need should arise. Those horses would be useless in the marshes, they would be forced to fight on foot, which we both know they do not excel at." Lex said, not ever really enjoying the riders of the north, though he disliked them mostly because Kazaar hated them.
"I can't imagine that your excited about them and other men coming to court your daughter. Those men aren't like us, they don't know true loyalty and romance. When my people lived in sewers for six eras, family and courtship was all we had." Lex said, ever supporting his son in this endeavor.

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

The smell of the market stands, the sound of a bustling crowd, the sensation of simply being outside, away from the dreary halls of Dragonsreach, this is where Mora belonged. She padded along the stone streets wearing a drab linen gown, her auburn hair tucked into a messy bun. She did this purposely whenever she sneaked off, taking care to appear as unappealing and modest as she could. As she skipped along the street, taking in the fresh air, she began to ponder of her family. She knew her uncles would be arriving early, and she wanted to be as far away from the castle as possible while they were "negotiating." She had seen her father deal with others before, usually leading to shouting and accusations which typically had nothing to do with the topic at hand.

A crowd gathering along the streets caught her attention. Mora made her way over cautiously, trying to avoid being noticed by any of the sentries patrolling the area. No doubt, father had sent the guard to find her, again. "Make way! Make way!" Cried a mounted soldier, garbed in ceremonial armor, who sped through the street. Behind him followed a carriage, Saren's carriage. Thinking of her uncle now made her stomach twist, he was truly a depraved and self serving man. Mora remembered him from his last visit, with his greasy black hair and his pale face and deep, sunken eyes. For such an ugly man, he truly thought himself the center of the world.

"Hey!" Mora spun around as a hand grabbed her shoulder, her heart skipping a beat. She sighed in relief, seeing that it was Caiden, her brother. "Father's got the guard looking for you, Raiden's out here some where too," he said, folding his arms across his chest. While Raiden bore the look of his father, and Mora the look of the former Queen, Caiden was the bridge between the two. He had the same stoic and experienced looks of his father, but with the coarse auburn hair of his mother. "I don't care, I don't want to go back." Retorted Mora, putting her hands on her hips. "You're 17 and acting like a child, come on. He seemed pretty mad this time." Mora glared at her brother, angry with him. "Why should I? Father only seems to care about me when I sneak off." Caiden sighed, seeing he had struck a nerve. "You know he cares about you."

Mora was getting emotional, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. For as long as she could remember, she's always felt like her father has resented her. When Mora was born, it cost Queen Morgana her life. And for 17 years, Valora has been under the rule of a King without a spouse. "Let's go, come on." Caiden put her arm around her and led her back, Mora's head hung low.

"Your highness?" "What is it, Bori?" The King sat in his throne with a sour expression on his face, his head propped against his fist. In the guest quarters, Dorian was still trying to convince Saren to give aid to the war effort. The thought angered the king, he was fighting to protect everyone, Saren included, and the worm wouldn't lift a finger. "We've received a letter, from Murkwood." "Murkwood? What do they want?" Replied the King, sitting up in his seat with a furrowed brow. "Well, their princess is seeking a spouse." "Their people have hated us for a thousand years, and now they send us a letter asking for a spouse?" "The letter, m'lord." Responded Bori, handing the King the ledger. Ronin looked over the paper with narrowed eyes. "Has Raiden seen this?" "No, m'lord." "Bring him to me." The steward bowed briefly, before turning around on his heel to search for the Prince.

After a few moments, Raiden came running to the throne, Bori far behind him. "You sent word for me?" Ronin stood, handing him the ledger. "The princess of Murkwood--" "Murkwood!?" "Is seeking a prince." Raiden looked at his father with a confused expression. "Father, I've never even seen an Orc. They say they're twice as large as any man and live like beasts." Ronin nodded, in truth the other races; Elves and beast, were a rare sight. "So I take it you're not interested?" Raiden gave a wry shake of the head, making the King chuckle softly. "But that's not the only reason I've sent for you, son." He said, pacing with Raiden outside to the balcony. The two of them stood together, looking out upon the view of Whiterun. "This is not how I imagined my twilight years, my son. I grow restless, dark have been my dreams of late." Said the King, looking out at the distant mountains. "Victus tells me that the battles have been hard, that his men are losing their nerve." "Father, you want to go to battle?" Interjected Raiden, looking on with concern.

"I was meant to, yet I had fallen ill. It's the King's duty to fight alongside his men, I'll be damned if I continue sending these men to fight for a King that'll never know their pain." Raiden remained silent for a moment, then nodded. "Have you told the others?" "Not yet."

"Brother!" Dorian barged through the balcony doors with Saren in tow. Saren averted the King's eyes, remaining silent with his arms crossed as Dorian did the talking. "Saren will send support, as will I. But perhaps we should--" "I ride to the front tomorrow, brother." Dorian stopped, choking on his words, he was stunned. Saren raised his eyebrow, looking at the King. "What?! Ronin, you're too--" "Don't give me that, damn it." Ronin said, cutting him off. "I've made up my mind, the King will fight with his men." Dorian glared at his brother, his face red with contained anger. "Very well... brother, what I was saying is I suggest asking Riverhead for support." Ronin nodded, Riverhead and Valora had been on friendly terms thus far. "If you think it'll help, send word. And Saren?" Saren looked up at his brother, "I'm sorry." And with that, the King stepped back inside to make preparations.

 

[Osiris]

"Aye, you've read my mind, Good King," Kazaar replied, taking a swig of his ale, "I didn't think I'd live to see the day my daughter might court a..human," he scowled. Lex told of Valora's war with the Barbarians, which lightened the Orc's mood, "The stupid Horselords of the North wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of ridding Tamriel of us Beastfolk," the Orc grumbled. "Though perhaps we should wait to see who Matalya wishes to wed before we make plans," Kazaar advised. "In the event that she doesn't choose Ladro, who I personally find to be the most obvious choice, you will still be Murkwood's closest ally," the King smiled, assuring Lord Lex.

Elsewhere, Matalya sat at a lavish table next to her suitor, making idle but flirtatious conversation. "You look lovely as always. How have things been in Murkwood? Ladro asked. "Ugh, so boring love! I rarely leave the city walls, my father expects me to always act like a proper princess when really I want to go and explore!" the Princess exclaimed. She took note of the Prince's foot against her smooth leg, making her giggle slightly. "Ladro you've grown up so much, you have the look of a warrior," she said in awe, dimming her eyes and twirling a finger on the Prince's chest. "Maybe later when Goji-Ra isn't looking, I could show you how much I'VE grown up," she suggested seductively, nudging her head against the Beastman's furry neck. "SO, the Dogs of BlackRose have come out of hiding to get a quickie from my sleezy sister," a sneering voice said, Azog walked over to the table and sat, throwing his feet up on it. "For the love of Mara, what the hell do you want Azog?!" Matalya demanded angrily, showing a new side to her. "What? I can't see my kin's potential suitor?" he asked with a fake innocence. "Well I guess not, but that's not why you're here, you're just looking to start a problem, you pathetic excuse for an Orc," Matalya said with a small vein throbbing in her forehead. "What was that, you miserable bitch?" Azog snarled, "All because your fluff buddy is sitting here doesn't mean I won't hesitate to rip out your throat and rid father of his disgrace of a daughter.." he threatened in a low voice. "Azog..that's enough," Goji-Ra stepped in, "You think I, heir to Murkwood, would EVER take orders from a filthy Argonian pack mule?" Azog sneered arrogantly. "I don't think your father would mind if I put your pampered ass in place this one time, my prince..." Goji replied. "Now scram, before I am not so polite about it," the Argonian snarled, showing his rows of sharp teeth, and held out his hand, extending his curved claws. Azog stared at him for a moment before getting up, "Fine..this isn't over lizard," Azog mumbled as he stomped off. "M'lady, are you alright?" the Argonian asked with concern on his tongue. "Oh, just fine, thank you Goji," Matalya smiled and gave the Lizard man a peck on the cheek. "Say Ladro..what are human's like?" she asked innocently, "We haven't had any in the Kingdom since I was born..are they...evil? like my father says they are?"

 

[Kimrisvik]

There was an awkward silence in the Chaers diningroom. King Richard had started on his 15th glass of wine, and started to get clearly drunk. "So Rayne... Did you send that letter to the Slaveking?" The kings voice sounded irritated. Both Alx and Theo stopped eating and exchanged looks. "Yes father, I did. I told him that we have two suitors for the princess. But don't you think the orc will take it as offensive that we don't meet them in person?" The king laughed and put his cup on the table. "I will not risk the lives of my sons by sending them over to the barbarian! Maybe if he doesn't like them, he'll rip of their head." He waved for a servant to come with more wine, and fixed the position of his crown. The crown was forged out of gold, and resembled the waves of the sea.

"Father. The reinforcements from Riverhead arrived at the Skywatch not so long ago. Uncle will send 250 of them over to the capital at once." Alx tried his best to sound grown up. "And if the king of Murkwood will send the weapon soon, we can start recruiting new men for our army. Then I'll lead an attack on Sunhold, while Alx takes care of Dusk." Theo smiled to his father. Rayne shook his head and laughed. "You won't need an army to stop Sunhold. Lord Sun would end this rebellion if you make his daughter a queen. I'll marry Sarya Sun, and Lord Jero Sun will end this now." King Richard got up from his chair. "Out now!" The servants hurried out of the room followed by the guards. Richard looked over at his identical twin sons. "You too!" Theo and Alx left the room.

"Do you think I would marry my son to the daugther of a traitor?" His voice echoed in the room.

"I think you want to end the rebellion with minimun casualty. And I don't think you want to risk the lives of your sons just to end something you could avoid with diplomacy!" Rayne argued, and looked over at his mother for help.

"He is right. This will strengthen your bond with the south, and maybe Dusk will also bend."

"Fine..." Richard said. Then he got up from his chair and walked out of the room.

 

[Delusional]

The council resumed after Andromolek had made sure all attendees of the court had a goblet of wine each. He ascended the few steps up to his amber-encrusted sandstone throne and sat down, ready to resume the discussions. It was late morning now; the sun poured through the massive windows lining the walls of the throne room, caking everything in a bright yellow light.

"Alright, now that we are comfortable, what is the next order of business?" Andromolek asked as he lounged in his throne, lightly tapping his finger against the cup of wine, a golden ring colliding with the flawless silver with a soft clink.

"It appears that Riverhead may be making moves towards the disputed region," Thuran stated after a short sip of the crimson red liquid.

"Hmm... that may prove troublesome..." Andromolek mused.

"M'lord, if I may?" His brother Verolek asked gently, leaning forward on the stone chair where he sat, to Andromolek's right. His appearance was very similar to Andromolek's, as they were twin brothers.

"Yes, go ahead brother."

"I advise we begin moving our own soldiers to the borders. If Riverhead is planning to expand into the disputed area, we must be ready to stop their advance short of our kingdom," he said, glancing across the room at the many faces.

After a short pause, he continued. "Also, a movement of such will be bound to strike fear into the hearts of Riverhead, and they may decide against such action."

"Yes, hmm. I suppose we should send a few detachments to the eastern border to maintain a vigilant eye on those river scum."

"Very well." Verolek reclined in his seat, pleased with himself.

"My lord, if I may interrupt..." Ezekiel interjected. He was a fair-skinned man, much different from the dark, tan skin of House Dakhlar and the King he was thane to.

"Continue, Ezekiel."

He cleared his throat briefly before beginning. "We received this letter last afternoon. I waited until now to present it to you so we may decide on it in council." Ezekiel reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a yellowed parchment, which he handed to Andromolek.

The king mused over the message for a bit before lowering it. "It appears that the slave king who lives in the swamps is in need of a suitor for his daughter..." He grunted before tossing the letter aside.

"What outrage. I will not marry my son and heir to an Orc."

"Now, brother, this may prove a vital alliance..." Thuran reasoned.

"No! I will choose my heir's queen, and it will NOT be a filthy Orc!" Andromolek interrupted, fuming.

"Perhaps we should allow the boy to decide?" Marwan asked softly. His words were followed with an eerie silence.

"Fine. Myro, fetch Jericho. Gods know where the boy is at."


The hot morning sun beat down on the city of Sandstone and the denizens that were just beginning their day. The training yard of the castle where House Dakhlar resided in was vacant -- nearly vacant. Jericho Dakhlar was slowly circling a lightly armored man. The young heir to the throne was shirtless, and sweat was dripping down his fit, tan body. A spear was clenched tightly in his right hand, a flimsy wooden shield in his left. He reached an arm up to his forehead, wiping the layers of sweat that had collected underneath his messy black hair. The man he circled, the captain of the Sandstone City Guard, was clad in a simple suit of ringmail and boiled leather, and he only held a single iron shield in his left hand and a wooden sword in his right.

"Come on boy, I know you've got more in you!" The captain of the guard, whose name was Daniel, and only Daniel, an older man of 39, shouted at the young boy circling him.

Jericho yelled as he charged Daniel, and jabbed his practice spear relentlessly into the man, who deflected the jabs with ease. The slender boy doubled over in defeat, breathing heavily.

"You did fine for today, Jericho -- but you've got to probe for weak spots. Every attack you made was easily predictable for a not-so-seasoned warrior like myself." Daniel walked over to the heir to Azar Harif as he was stripping the sweat-drenched boiled leather and ringmail suit off.

Jericho stood up with a grunt and stalked away from the training ground, visibly frustrated. He grabbed his ratty tunic off the ground and used it to wipe the sweat from his torso before starting inside for some food to break his fast. He opened the door to the main holdfast, only to find himself face to face with Myro Mezek, one of his father's honor guards.

"Heh. I knew I would find you here. Come, your father requires your presence in the throne room," the large man said with a chuckle, his voice coarse and thick.

"Although, we might need to get you changed into some more appropriate clothes," he laughed and slapped Jericho on the back playfully, who was still frustrated. The two started down the long hall before them, the sunlight streaming through the spacious windows on either side.

 

[The OP3RaT0R]

"Mother, I would like to watch the troops muster for the Isles," the Queen said to Tavia. "Would you accompany me?"

"Dear, you heard me when I said I have had enough of governing. That means everything."

Margonet sighed as she stood up and walked to her quarters. She shut the door behind her, then found a mirror and sat down to put on a veil atop her jet black shoulder-length hair. The white fabric nicely accented her silken blue gown, and was further complimented when she placed on it her simple yet elegant silver crown, with its single amethyst inlaid at the front. She returned to her throne room, and turning to the same servant who had fetched the court mage she said, "Would you bring Princess Dahlia here before I depart?"

Her dainty younger sister 22 years of age entered, looking resplendant in a shimmering white dress."Sister? What is it?" She asked, evidently unhappy about being drawn out from her quarters.

"I prefer 'Queen'." The Queen took a deep breath, steeling herself and knowing that Dahlia was likely to be argumentative. "Now then, I have stepped up to my duties as Queen, and I believe it is time for you to step up to yours as Princess. You're old enough to marry, and marry is what you're going to do."

"Margonet! Before you say anything, I'll have you know that I'll be damned if I call you 'Queen' like a peasant! I do not wish to marry someone deemed to be an eligible suitor by everyone but myself, based only on what alliances can be formed by marriage! I should 'step up' to my 'duties' as Princess, like you've 'stepped up' to yours? The only reason why you're Queen and I'm not is blind luck, and you know it!"

"I'm having letters sent out to most of the surrounding kingdoms. You've got the Princess of Murkwood to compete with," she responded coolly. And with that, Margonet strode out on her way to the Hall of Defense, accompanied by six bodyguards outfitted similarly to General Camaron, but with blue cloth rather than white. As they stepped out into the sunshine and a crowd began to gather, Margonet said quietly to Gerald, her favorite guard and occasional confidant, "It's funny the way she thinks I was dying for this, like I somehow forced myself from Mother's womb first on purpose. I love taking charge, but this was not my choice..."


"Mhmm," was Gerald's only response.

"Don't get me wrong, once I have the people's confidence I intend to relish in this position, but I'm not trying to hurt her! Despite our differences, she's still my sister, and my sternness is only in response to her tantrums. Besides, I'd say that 'blind luck' wasn't all that bad. Not to boast, but I've been excellent at everything I've been told it takes to be a good Queen since I was young, and Dahlia only cries for more involvement in governing until she gets it; then she wants to go lie in her room and have a troupe of bards play for her while she sips wine." The Queen looked sheepishly at the guard. "I'm sorry for boring you with this. Thank you."

"You are welcome, my lady. We approach the Hall of Defense."

~~~

With troops well on their way to the Summerset Isles, General Camaron found himself standing before the War Council on the marble floor inlaid with the crest of Riverhead. A windowed dome above the high ceiling, reminiscent of the style of ancient Cyrodiil, cast light down onto the faces of the robe-clad council, and caused Camaron's armor to appear almost ethereal. "Councilmen," he began with a firm voice, saluting with a fist to his heart. "Our scouts in the disputed territory report that Azar Harif has sent a few detachments to their border, in response to our own movements. I would propose that we meet their increased presence with our own. They send a few thousand? I propose twenty. Furthermore, I believe that we should send along our most powerful illusionists to cover the advance. If twenty thousand battlemages raring to fight those sand-eared brutes who dare call themselves Redguards will have an impact, think how much greater the effect will be if that massive force appears out of nowhere. All in favor?"

A chorus of "Aye!" echoed loudly through the vast building.

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

"And you, ours." Lex said replying to the orcs mention of allies. Lex was discusted at the thought of these men taking the princess over his son. "And of course, should any of these suitors cause to much trouble while their here. Their boat might be torn a part by one of those... rouge... werecrocodile attacks." Lex joked, laughing and thinking of his men destroying the competition. There was an odd feeling among the room. "Tell me friend, how did the riders of the north end up with an invitation to your daughter?" Lex asked.



Ladro was quite enjoying his time with Matalya and felt rather confident in his relationship with the girl. Upon the terrible orc named Azog coming in, Ladro got extremely tense. He snarled to himself, his large canine teeth showing and his ears pinned back. His claws dug deep into his own leg in order to restrain himself. The argonians intervention was a welcomed one, as Ladro wasn't one for pointless fights like Drake.

"Say Ladro..what are human's like? "We haven't had any in the Kingdom since I was born..are they...evil? like my father says they are?" Matalya said, causing Ladro a bit discomfort as mystery was always a way to win with the women.

"Well dear, they an odd race. They die fast, and always seem happy about that. Their arrogant, always thinking their way is the best way. Their strong though, powerful in battle. Many of the ones that you shall meet will have never had a tough decision in their life. Good rulers though, every one of them will dream of ruling tamriel." Ladro said, hoping to remove much of the history about them. Men had never accepted the lilmothiits, they disrespected khajiits and argonians. "Though, let's not worry about them." Ladro said reaching into his pocket and turning to the argonian. "You there, good sir, what is your price to dismiss us from your watch? I can pay you in gold, power, or women." Ladro said in his sly political voice.