(General POV)
The Imperial City's Waterfront District's usual loud bustle disappeared as if under a wave as the many dockworkers and tradesmen rushed to clear the main street leading to the docks, retreating just in time to avoid the rushed advance of a large company of mounted soldiers.
Emperor Titus Mede II rode at the head of the group, surrounded by a few of his advisors and listening to their reports, even as his eyes were fixated on the south.
A town crier's booming voice echoed from a nearby street, the doctored news of Leyawiin's troubles spreading through the crowd like a wildfire, ensuring that the merchants whose ships had been requisitioned remained pressured to relinquish their vessels.
The Emperor frowned as his Marshal finished listing the troops available to him and nodded, turning then to his Redguard Admiral "Alakim, how soon can we set out?"
"We've had to rush some preparations but the river ships are ready" The usual smile on the cheerful man's face was gone "We removed what cargo we could but even when overpaying the crews just couldn't work quickly enough."
"Damn shame Dagoth's toys are all in Elsweyr." The Marshal scoffed, outwardly still disdaining the Hortator "What we have should do in any case, the garrison is already weak as is."
"Indeed" Titus voiced neutrally and spurred his horse "Keep the peace my friends, and should I fall-"
Both of the men frowned but still offered grave nods.
Titus' horse trotted onwards, catching him up with a lone figure clad head to toe in silvered armor covered in a white tabard decorated with lines of gold, and dominated by the embroidery of the Chim-El Adabal.
"Grandmaster" The Emperor greeted "Are your brothers ready?"
"We have been ready since the last war." The man's face was hidden by his greathelm, reigning in his radiating determination from blinding to merely present "Let us ride, and show the wicked the fate of their ilk."
"Indeed" Titus agreed and donned his helmet, the world once more feeling lighter as he slid into the one state he could truly understand "Let's."
Sheathed at his belt, Goldbrand began vibrating in anticipation.
-----
The Imperial city of Bravil was a place on the upturn.
Ever since the Oblivion crisis, its rulers were motivated to ensure the destruction their subjects suffered under the callous hand of Dagon would never repeat itself and that their home would never again be known as the stinking armpit of Cyrodiil.
Such a trend continued for near two centuries to differing amounts of success, and all the way to the current Countess of the city, a known loyalist and supporter of the Mede regime and a woman beloved by her subjects for her many works and focus on trade that increased the city's prosperity manifold.
All of it felt like it had been for naught for one Clarissa Terentius as the Countess was dragged away from the city's public theatre by her heavily armed bodyguards, her loyal warriors blocking the stray arrows peppering the fleeing crowd around them with both shield and their bodies when needed without an ounce of hesitation.
It felt as if the city was collapsing around them as their outlander attackers made use of every possible line of approach to swarm their positions and prevent a proper battle line from being formed, spreading chaos and confusion as they went.
Clarissa wished dearly to rush to her peoples' aid, but she was also well aware that she was an administrator and not a combatant, her combat capabilities beginning and ending at pointing at a target and hoping her bodyguards were capable of ending them.
A fact she thoroughly regretted as she was dragged into a side passage that would lead to her personal keep only for her guard detail to be halted by a group of scalemail clad elves.
Their leader was a tall one, wielding a pair of broad single bladed swords and clad in more heavy armor that looked to be made of malachite unlike his subordinates' steel scales.
The elf barked something in a language that only distantly sounded like Tamrielic, and seeing Clarissa's failure to respond, he let out a dark chuckle and pointed a blade at her guards, the challenge in posture clear to all.
Naturally, the leader of her bodyguards, a Knight of Arkay, took one good look at what was obviously the enemy elite and ordered "Men, we are pulling back! Protect the Countess at all costs!"
The elf evidently did not like that and immediately rushed the man, throwing axes announcing his arrival as his fellow raiders followed his lead with practiced precision.
Clarissa thanked the Nine for their blessings as none of her guards fell to the thrown weapons before the melee could be joined but her thanks disappeared just as quickly as she saw her protectors immediately be put on the back foot by the overagressive enemy.
All of them save for the knight, as his heavy plate armor and greatsword combined with decades of experience allowed him to both fight the enemy leader off and aid his comrades from time to time, stopping the elves from simply overwhelming them outright.
It would not last.
One by one, Clarissa's protectors fell to enemy blades, and even as they valiantly took a foe down in turn it was far too few to matter in the end, her only hope remained to flee to her home and await outside aid.
A future that was dashed utterly as she stumbled into the open street they had first arrived from, only to be met with an entire ship crew's worth of scalemail clad elves punching through a unit of city guard and moving in her direction.
To her side, the leader of the elves lost one of his hands as he parried the knight's greatsword, screaming his throat out as the blade was stuck in his bone, and blindly thrusting out upwards with his sword and piercing the chainmail under the man's helm, killing him on the spot.
The elf kicked the knight off his sword and accepted a potion from one of his comrades, contenting himself with placidly watching as the rest of Clarissa's guard detail was cut down even as they desperately kept retreating.
They were halfway down the street when the other group of elves reached them, leaving them completely surrounded.
Clarissa knew her days were numbered as the elven leader barked out a harsh order, and unsheathed the dagger she always carried with herself, very nearly dropping it due to lack of practice 'Might as well meet Talos properly, right?'
As if a silent command had been given, both the units of blue-clad elves rushed the remaining quintet of humans, blades drawn and eyes filled with murder.
A thundering war horn was all the warning they got before the entirety of their rear flank disappeared under a charge of heavy cavalry, the gleaming white tabards of the knights and their horses overtaking the blue of the Maormer as swiftly as the eye could follow, the blood flying in all directions failing to stain their gleaming armaments for even a moment.
But for all the blinding glory of the Knights of the Nine, the figure leading the charge was far more attention grabbing.
Clad head to toe in ebony embossed with gold and decorated in crimson silks, the armor looked like a crossing between an ancient muscle cuirass and the more modern full platemail. The rider's face was hidden behind a blank-faced full legionary helm, the tip of which ended in a glorious golden crown instead of the usual plume.
But even that was surpassed by his weapon, as what could only be the Emperor of Tamriel swung his blazing sword through the throngs of Maormer, the golden blade cutting through their armor as if through parchment, and only growing more powerful with each kill as it summoned a conflagration of golden flame around itself.
The Maormer leader, realizing things were rapidly turning against him, rushed Clarissa in an attempt to gain leverage but before he could get even halfway through his sprint, he was incinerated by the golden firestorm, his subordinates following a moment later.
Not even five seconds passed between Clarissa being surrounded and rescued, causing the poor woman to stumble and fall on her ass as the knights passed her remaining guardians by without bothering to acknowledge them, leaving behind only the Emperor and a pair of riders clad in heavy Pennitus Occulatus garb.
"Clarissa" Titus nodded as he raised his visor "You are unharmed." His voice carried a greater certainty than she had ever heard from him.
Without a word, her guards raised her from her shameful position, and she bowed "I thank you for the rescue Your Majesty but-" She kept her rising bile down and focused on what she needed to know "How did the Dominion breach Leyawiin? And who were those elves?"
Titus frowned at seeing his friend so distraught but still answered "Maormer, I fear. The Dominion has somehow managed to ally themselves with Pyandonea."
"Pyandonea..." Clarissa frowned "But that is-"
"Ridiculous" Titus finished for her, scoffing as he did "King Orgnum's hatred for the Altmer is known to anyone aware of the islands he rules." He turned away from her and muttered "It is a good thing we pressed our advantage when we did."
She wanted to go deeper into it but a fiery explosion in the distance drew her back into the present "What of Leyawiin?" She pressed "How did they manage to breach the fort so quickly?"
"Because they were just as surprised as you were" Titus answered and turned to her with narrowed eyes "Something that should not have happened as you were provided with an Orb™, through which I sent the warning hours ago."
She was halfway through sheathing her dagger as he finished speaking, making her nearly stab herself as she jerked her head upwards "What?! That little thing? I thought that was only for troop movements and gave it to my guard captain..."
"Clarissa" Titus palmed his face "Is your guard captain a mage?"
"Umm" She fidgeted "No?"
The Emperor very nearly groaned in despair but managed to hold himself back "No matter, Bravil would not have been able to weather the assault even with the warning, what with you sending every single soldier possible to garrison our conquests."
The Countess wished to be proud of her contributions but at that moment all she could feel was regret at not stopping her city from getting halfway sacked back into a ruin. How was she supposed to expect a near-mythical people from allying with their enemies and punching straight through their territory anyway?!
"I see the frustrations of the day are finally catching up to you." Titus gave her a look of understanding.
"An understatement" Clarissa deadpanned "Merely cleaning up the mess will take weeks."
"Bravil always was challenging." Titus smirked as cheers of victory began spreading through the city, numerous legionaries of the Empire marching across the streets and cornering the few Maormer who had not yet fled to the docks where the Knights of the Nine now awaited, standing proudly between the raiders and their now emptied ships.
"No point in sugarcoating it Titus" Clarissa scoffed "We were always called a shithole by the other cities."
"Quite." Titus' placid facade nearly cracked as he spoke "Emperor Uriel wouldn't have mistaken it for Black Marsh otherwise."
Clarissa sighed "We are never living that down, are we?"
--------
King Norevalion of Pyandonea tapped his foot irritably as he observed yet another assault on the Temple District of Leyawiin be repelled by the stubborn defenders, the priest that had become the lynchpin of imperial defense once more blocking his Altmer ally's attempts at simply burning their way through.
"How many did we lose this time?" The Maormer demanded from his second.
"One hundred and thirty" The thin elf answered blandly "It would appear that the enemy is well supplied behind their walls, their bolts and arrows are not running out."
Norevalion grunted "And our attempts to smoke them out?"
"Difficult considering the other pockets of resistance" Was the answer he was given "If we tried ferrying over enough wood, the keep and gate forts would no doubt sally out and harry our attempts. Our best option is still to wait for the reinforcements Alinor promised us."
"We have been waiting for three days now." Norevalion pointed out with a scowl on his face "The reavers are content with the loot we captured for now but the lack of progress is going to make some of them... curious."
"Then simply cut them down, my liege." His second bowed his head "The treasures of Orgnum put you head and shoulders above the fools, any attempt is fated to sputter out and die."
Norevalion rubbed his chin in thought for a moment before slowly nodding "What you say is sensible, if another day passes ensure it is Garvalian who challenges me. The upstart has always been hesitant to follow my directives."
"By your command, my liege." The pale Maormer bowed fully.
A distant war horn cut through the relative silence that followed, and minutes later Norevalion found himself jogging up the wall stairs of the city he had so thoroughly sacked.
His enthusiasm was not meant to last however as the moment he stepped reached his destination, absently answering his subjects' salutes as he went, and he was faced with hundreds of banners swaying in the distance.
Dominating the entire field west of Leyawiin was the golden dragon of Tamriel, carried on fields of red, the color feeling like a promise to the elven sovereign as he quickly realized the situation had been thoroughly turned against him.
He could almost taste the elation of the humans who shared his vista, the western gate garrison already bursting with cheers and promises of vicious murder for his kin.
Luckily for Norevalion, the Maormer were not blinded by such idiocy as a sense of honor and fair play, and the moment he began calling out orders for a methodical retreat, his subjects followed without much complaint.
Unluckily for Norevalion however, the residents of Leyawiin were far less than willing to accommodate his escape, as every single legionary within the western gate fort that resisted him even now rushed to defend the gatehouse, and the other pockets of resistance struck out as one, overrunning numerous crews of reavers with either numbers, surprise, skill, or all three at once.
Every step was hounded by the stout members of the city garrison if they were lucky, or the frenzied and bloodthirsty citizens if they were not, the city's populace all too willing to die in droves if it meant choking the life out of their blue-skinned invaders with their bare hands if need be.
And then, to make things even worse, a certain Emperor was currently cutting through his most elite forces with all the hesitance of a lawnmower, his sword allowing him to simply ignore most of their defenses as he relied on his ridiculously enchanted armor to protect him.
Even so far away, a certain mage remained a thorn in the Dominion's side.
A full sixth of the sea elven force fell to human blades by the time Norevalion reached his vessel, the few Alinori mages he was given boarding the ships with furious scowls on their faces as they were forced to watch a rider clad in black cut down a pair of their own with a mighty golden blade, their magic utterly useless against the armor's enchantments and their wards falling in short order to the barrage of the Imperial Battlemage who followed his Emperor into battle.
Titus stopped his steed just at the edge of the pier, and glared at the retreating fleet of ships, his sword glowing menacingly as he pointed at them for a moment before hesitating and sheathing the weapon.
Best save the power for when it would make a difference.
"Besides" He smirked under his helm and patted his saddle bag "My part in this is over."
---
"That was a mess!" The Altmer mage snapped at the Pyandonean King "What use was the surprise attack if we are merely to flee at the first showing of true opposition?"
"We did our part, Altmer" Norevalion very nearly decapitated the idiot for his audacity "Leyawiin was under our dominion for a full three days, and yet the reinforcements meant to arrive just after us never showed."
"There must have been something that held them up" The high elf stammered "Or are you calling the Dominion traitors?"
The second high elf mage punched her comrade in the face before Norevalion could "Do shut your mouth Veldran" She flapped her hand about to soothe the pain "Your failure to dig through the enemy defenses has shamed you enough already."
The Maormer ruler would never admit it but he felt immense petty satisfaction in his heart as he saw the grounded elf flinch away in shame.
"Apologies for my- friend's" She nearly spat the world out "Conduct, Your Royal Highness." Archmage Indris tilted her head in a manner that could have been misconstrued as a bow if one squinted "We cannot be sure what happened with the reinforcements but I can assure you that the Dominion and our new Overlord is not quite so foolish as to simply throw allies away and snatch defeat from the jaws of victory."
Norevalion couldn't help the light snort from leaving him "It is no matter. My people will grow fat from the spoils of our victory, and make no mistake for it was one." He ignored the woman's raised eyebrow and went on "We would have never been able to hold the city for long, even with a full legion."
Indris considered him briefly before nodding "True enough, Your Royal Highness. However, I must remind you that the point of this excursion was to draw forces from the other fronts, and that has failed rather spectacularly I am afraid."
"An unfortunate outcome" The sea elf admitted blandly "We will simply keep striking where they do not expect, then. The effects should show after another few cities are burned by my army."
Whatever else they were about to say died in their throats as they felt a weight settle upon the world around them.
Norevalion felt his connection to the serpent swimming under his ship explode with what could only be described as existential dread, and was forced to look up.
"Oh" He muttered as he saw the skies darkening "That isn't good."
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