INTRO

The streets of Tear lay silent. The once bustling slave markets now prepared for the worst as reports of Argonians massing under the leadership of the An-Xileel spread among the city’s populace. The warriors of House Dres had made it clear that they would not abandon their city, but, with the destruction caused by the Red Year, they knew that they would receive no outside support. When night fell, the few citizens who dared to leave their homes simply wanted to drink away their worries at the bars.

However, while most saw only death and hopelessness in the current situation, others saw opportunity.

Llethys smirked as he stalked his mark. With the guards focused on the external threats the city faced, people with his particular talents now had a far easier time of making a living. The hooded beggar that he followed had let his meager coin purse hang, uncovered, from his belt. He would only be able to make that mistake once.

The beggar didn’t seem to have any particular destination in mind as he wandered through the dirty streets, oblivious to the Dunmer behind him. Eventually he turned a corner into an alley behind the Shady Guar corner club. Llethys saw his chance. The thug quietly slid his dagger from its sheath and picked up his pace. He turned the same corner as the beggar and paused in confusion when he saw the empty alley. Now wary, he cautiously moved forward, searching for his mark. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and spun around, swinging his dagger. The beggar dodged with a speed that Llethys had not expected and the dagger just barely cut the hooded man’s arm. The beggar let loose a hiss of disgust and moved in close to grab Llethys. The Dunmer attempted to struggle and knocked back the beggar’s hood. He froze in surprise when he saw the haggard face and the gold that mixed with the ashen gray skin of his target.

Vivec sighed as he felt his assailant stop struggling. He had tried to give the mer a chance to avoid this. Vivec cast his spell and Llethys could only manage a desperate yelp of pain as he was reduced to ash. Vivec nodded as he exited the alley. He took no joy in the death, he hadn’t felt that emotion in hundreds of years, but he did find satisfaction in the fact that there was one less person attempting to prey on the citizens he had once ruled. After all, even a failed god has an obligation to his people.

I.

“Come on you cowards!” yelled Seran as he desperately looked at the broken sword lying next to him, “I haven’t got all day.”

The small room shook as the pounding on the increasingly brittle door continued. Bits of wood flew from the frame.

The Camonna Tong was not a group to be trifled with, even on the mainland. Yet, here Seran stood, with only several inches of reinforced wood standing between himself and several men twice his size.

“Don’t make this difficult on us,” a voice rasped outside the door, “We really can’t afford to deal with too much of a mess.”

Seran turned and grabbed the most solid thing he could find in the small room. The candle on top of the metal holder gasped as he swung around to face the door again. An enormous crack resounded through the room as the wood around the hinges splintered. The door fell down and three Dunmer blocked his only path of escape.

“Now look what you made us do,” said the Dark Elf that stood behind the other two, “Now we’ll have to pay the innkeep to stay quiet.”

“We could just kill him too,” laughed one of the elves in the doorway.

“Or that,” said the first speaker.

The three advanced into the room. Seran swung the flaming candlestick wildly at the first assailant and struck him across the face. The brute reeled back in pain, grasping at his burns.

“Idiot!” screamed the talkative attacker, “Grab him!”

The weight of the candlestick felt off in his hand but, as if he still had his sword, Seran attacked with a fury. The unburned brute was momentarily cowed by the vicious response, but recovered enough composure to grab the defender and wrench his arm behind his back.

“Why did you have to go and do that?” asked the talkative attacker as he looked in mock sympathy at the burned face of his companion. He sauntered into the room, “Those scars just create an increased cost for our employer. We can’t have that.”

Seran squirmed in a futile attempt to break free of the grip that held him. He saw the group’s spokesperson look at him questioningly.

“What do you hope to gain by fighting us? If you hold still, I promise that your death will be quick.”

The newly scarred group member shook his head and loosed a groan.

“Well, as long as that fellow doesn’t recover by the time you answer our questions,” he conceded.

The Mer holding him chuckled as the talkative one’s hands blazed with magical flames.

Suddenly the room flared with a bright light. His captor released his arm and stumbled back in shock. A new figure stood in front of Seran. He barely registered that the unexpected visitor had a unique skin color for a Dunmer.

“Come on then,” said Vivec as he extended his hand to Seran, “We have much to fix before the end.”

Note: I'm a long time lurker and a very rare poster. I wrote the intro to this several months ago and finally decided on how I wanted to continue it. I hope to update this story regularly. If you like this or hate it, please give me suggestions.