User:Auri-El Reborn/The Roots of the Forsaken

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What's This All About?[edit]

This is part two of my Rise of the Mer Fanfiction Series.

In this, the second volume of my Rise of the Mer Fanfiction Series, Areldir revisits his dark past as a ruthless killer. He remembers exactly why Isabella's "parents" were killed and what he had to do with it. There are also a few battles. He also makes a few... eccentric allies at best.

Part One: The Dark Brotherhood: Chapter One: Explanations and Negotiations[edit]

Areldir suddenly yelled at Isabella and she seemed to have no idea what he was talking about in the slightest.

"You! You ordered three Dark Brotherhood assassins and a freelance assassin to kill me! Why Isabella? Why would you do that? I never did anything to you or your parents! Why? Answer me!!!"

Isabella stood there, her eyes wide with fear. Areldir calmed down after awhile and she decided to answer his question.

"Alright. I admit it. I prayed to the Night Mother for your death but only because I thought it was the right thing to do. But I only met my real father three days ago. I had lived with my foster parents for the first ten years of my life. Then you killed them and I swore I'd take revenge. After I met my real father I deeply regreted my descision but I figured there was no turning back and that you were already dead. But I can see I was wrong. Can you ever forgive me?"

Areldir, understanding answered thusly:

"Yes, Isabella. I can fogive you. While it was hasty you did what you did for a good cause. I'm just glad I'm a Speaker of the BLack Hand. I was far more skilled than any of the assassins you sent. Never in any way could they have beaten me." Areldir said.

"Thank you. I'm glad you're still alive, too." said Isabella, giving a sigh of relief.

"Well, then. Now that that's all done, why don't we have a feast to celebrate the return of my old friend Areldir!" said Edgar.

"Yes we would be honored." said Isabella and Emanaril together. The two blushed.

"As would I, my old friend." said Areldir.

At the feast Areldir sat to the left side of King Edgar Francois, opposite of his stewart.

"Edgar." said Areldir.

"Hmm... Yes? What is it, my friend?" said Edgar, obviously distracted by the banquet.

"While it is good to see you again, I have come here for a.... darker purpose, if you will." said Areldir.

Edgar looked at him with confusion in his eyes. But regardless he continued to listen to Areldir. He beckoned him to continue.

"The humans have outlawed my people and cast our home, The Summerset Isle, out of the Empire. I am here to ask for your help." said Areldir.

After negotiations, Edgar finally agreed. After the feast everyone retired to their quarters and Areldir, Tiranil, and the eight others retired to the guest quarters. That night, Areldir had a very strange dream.....

Part One: The Dark Brotherhood: Chapter Two: The Dream[edit]

First there was the past:

Areldir saw himself as a child, sick with diseases and begging for gold in the slums of Alinor. Then he sees the kids that tormented him, stealing his gold and calling him names. Then he sees when his parents died, years before he began begging. Cut down by bandits in the small farm they once lived on. Then he sees the night he murdered Arilor, one of the kids who stole from him. Then he sees Havardi Green-Tail, the Aronian who recruited him into the Dark Brotherhood the night after he killed Arilor. He then sees himself on his first contract, which was to take out an Indoril noble. Then he sees the day the Bruma Sanctuary was virtually destroyed by the Mages' and Fighters' Guilds as well as the Bruma City Guard. Him, Havardi, and.... Iabella Francois were the only ones who escaped the destruction. Then he saw the day he was invited to become the Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. Then he sees the day he met the Night Mother and was given the rank of Listener. Then he sees the day he decided to become an inactive member and requested to be demoted to the rank of Speaker. He became known from that day forth by those that knew of his existance as the Sixth Listener, as the extra finger that only the blessed have. All the while, he heard people chanting something in a language now forgotten.

Then he saw all that occured recently. Then he saw the future, or a glimpse of it at least.

He saw a burning Imperial City. Then he saw a burning Alinor. Then he saw a burning Daggerfall. Theb he saw a burning Mournhold. Then he saw a burning Dawnstar. Then he saw a burning Falinesti. Then he realized that the Beast Races would not become in this war ever. THerefore their cities would not burn. But then he saw a flourishing Aldmeris. Joy filled the heart of Areldir. But then he heard Sithtis, at least that's who he thought it was, say:

"May Tamriel burn and may the barbaric beast people retake it. You will get your wish. The human empire will be destroyed but in doing so, Areldir, you doom your empire. The Daedra, the Aedra, the Beast Races, all of them will overthrow you. But do not fear. For the Mer will have Aldmeris, the Men shall have Altmora, the Khajiit, the Argonians, the Imga, they shall have Tamriel. The Sload shall have Thras. The Tsaesci and their fellow Akaviri species shall have Akavir and all the islands and lands that lie in between it and Tamriel. This I promise. There is no going back, Areldir. It will happen whether you are responsible or not. Now, sleep. For there are dark and savourable times ahead of you!".

Then, Areldir woke up. The dream was over. After a while he went back to sleep but did not have the dream again......

Part One: The Dark Brotherhood: Chapter Three: Orsinium[edit]

The next day, Areldir remembered the dream and remembere that Isabella Francois had once been in the Dark Broterhood as well. This worried him, but he just tried not to think about it too much. That day the army set out for Skyrim. They knew that if they succeeded, it would be their first conquest. They also knew that many a hundred would perish during the campaign in Skyrim. And they knew that many more would perish in the other conquests around Tamriel. They now marched to Skrim. To their deaths.

It didn't take long for the soldiers to begin to fight.

"Why in Oblivion are we walking all the way to Skyrim? Isn't that the home of those barbaric, smelly, sweaty, booze-soaked, screaming, naked, mannerless, heretic Nords?" said Endrenehl, a Bosmer lieutenant.

"Yeah. Now shut up and stop complaining, you worthless Bosmer or I'll break yor neck!" said Jean Begamont, a Breton captain.

"Screw you, you Direnni half-blood! I'll do whatever I want!" yelled Endrenehl.

"Don't make me come over there, you worthless short tree-climber! I swear I'll beat you!" roared Captain Begamont.

"Shut up both of you or it'll be yor heads! Don't let your egos destroy this campaign! We got a long march ahead of us!" yelled Tevelilor, an Altmer general.

The two turned away from each other, obviously iritated by Tevelilor's intrusion. Tevelilor seemed iritated as well, but most likely by the fact the soldiers were so out of order and untrained (compaired to those of the Summerset Isle) and by their disrespectful, didainful disposition towards him.

About two days later, the army arrived at Orsinium, the homeland of the Orsimer. The Orcs were hostile at first, though they did not attack. However they soon became more comfortable and welcoming of the outsiders. After speaking with Orsinium's "king", they were allowed to stay inside their lands, just outside the city walls. The small (with the exception of a few), round tents at the camp were white for the most part. A few were cream-colored, others were brown, some were tan, and Areldir's was an enchanting blue. The tents were packed extremely close together. An Orc came to the camp to visit Areldir. He was young and his skin was vibrant, the green very pronounced.

"Greetings, great king of the Altmer." said the Orc.

Areldir looked up. "Ah yes. Greetings. Your king told me you would be oming. Come now, sit, Orsimer." said Areldir, quite friendly.

"What do you want of me? I've no intention of sounding rude, I am simply curious." said the Orc.

"Well, before I answer, what is your name, Orsimer?" inquired Areldir.

"Kurdon. Kurdon gro-Bolmog." answered the Orc.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Kurdon gro-Bolmog. My name is Areldir." said Areldir.

"It's very nice to meet you too, Areldir. Now what is it you wanted?" said Kurdon.

"Well, I wanted to know aboutthe background of the Orsimer. How you came to be. How you live. And so on." answered Areldir.

"Alright then. May I take a seat?" asked Kurdon.

"Yes, please do." said Areldir.

Upon taking a seat, Kurdan gro-Bolmog began to explain how, according to stories, the Orsimer had come to be.

"Long ago, when the Mer were arriving on the mainland of Tamriel, we Orsimer were indistinguishable from you Altmer. We served Trinimac, and Aldmeri god. Boethiah was currupt, and for some reason she devoured Trinimac. This may not be the literal sense of he word. Whatever the case, what emerged was a currupted, twisted form of Trinimac. He was no longer the Aldmeri war-hero-god we had once worshiped, he was now Malacath, the Daedric Prince of Curruption and Plots, as you know him. Now, when Trinimac changed into Malacath and became twisted, we toochanged. We were no longer Altmer. Our skin tone changed from gold to green. We were now ugly to the other races. We became know from that day forth as the Orsimer, or "Pariah Folk" in Aldmeris, better known now as Orcs."

"As for how we live, Areldir. You have seen, have you not?" said Kurdon.

"I suppose so." answered Areldir.

"Well, it's getting late. We should probably sleep now, huh?" said Kurdon.

"Yes we should. May we continue this talk tomorrow?" said Areldir.

"Of course." said Kurdon.

With that, Kurdon gro-Bolmog left. Areldir, and most of the soldiers, went to sleep save only the ones who had been put on patrol. That night something happened. Later that night, someone crept into Areldir's tent......

Part One: The Dark Brotherhood: Chapter Four: Once An Assassin, Always An Assassin[edit]

The dark figure moved stealthily towards a busy Areldir. He was writing something. What it was, it did not matter to the person. The figure was clad in black robes. With red stains. Suddenly the figure pulled out a dagger. It raised the dagger in the air and just as the person was about to strike Areldir down, Areldir got up, spun around, and shot a bolt of electricity at the mysterious figure, sending it flying. It hit a mirror, shattering it.

"Ah, that's just great. Look what you've done!" yelled Areldir.

The assassin stood up and Areldir recognized the face of Isabella Francois.

"Isabella? WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!?!" roared Areldir. "Explain yourself. Now!"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Isabella, chuckling. "I'm here to gut you lik the pig you are!"

With that Isabella sprang foward, thrusting her dagger at him. He stabbed her. And she fell. Areldir was greatly confused but he tied her to a table, but a pillow under her head, took her dagger, put a blanket over her, and healed her as mucas he could. He then went to sleep.

The next morning, he awoke to the cries of Isabella. He went over to her and untied her as she seemed to not be quite as focused on "gutting him like he pig he is." Areldir was curious as to what she meant by this. He decided to ask her about it.

"Isabella." he said. She looked towards him, "Last night you tried to kill me. Why? I thought we had a truce?"

"What're you talking about?" she said, puzzled, "I never came in here. Why am I in here now?"

"You told me you were going to 'gut me like the pig I am'. What did you mean by that?" he asked, trying not to explode with anger.

"What are you talking about?" she said again.

Areldir couldn't believe it. Why was she still lying to him?

Part One: The Dark Brotherhood: Chapter Five: A Servant of Lord Shegorath[edit]

Further questioning only made Isabella agitated and angry. Suddenly, after Areldir's ruthless barrage of inquiries on th reason for the attack, Isabella Francois burst into a frenzy. She lunged at Areldir, wrapping her hands around his neck screaming.

"For my Lord!!!! For all those innocents you've killed!!!! I shall endyor life this day, you murdering bastard!!!!!"

'She's still on hat whole parents incident? And what in Oblivion does she mean by My Lord?' Areldir thought himself.He threw her off of him and pointed his sword at her throat.

"Who is 'my Lord'? Answer me!" yelled Areldir.

Isabella began chanting in what seemed like...... Ayleid!

"Shanta, ehlno. Tyavoy balangua!" (maybe familiar as one of Umaril's phrases in KotN) was just one of many phrases she yelled at him. It translates to: "Come, mortal. Taste my power!"

After a while, her accent changed from Ayleidoon to a (to us) Scottish accent. The voice was no longer speaking Ayleid, an Areldir could understand what it was saying.

"So, you think you can just get in the way of MY PLANS?! MY PLANS?! I am a Daedric Prince, and you shouldn't interfere with the plans of a Daedric Prince! I know ht you to do, Areldir. You want to destroy ALL the humans in Tamriel! But, you do it without th blessing of Madness? BORING!!!!! No, I'll help you, Altmer. But, you have to do what you're doin'... with a hint of Madness. Do what you will, but go with the Blessing of The Prince of Madness, Lord of the Neverthere, SHEOGORATH!!!! Now, be a good little servant and GET TO IT! Before I get bored. And, ho ho, you wouldn't like me when I'm bored. Or would you? Perhaps you would? Nevermind that, now though. Tata!!! You bettr do whatI say, or I'll pluck out your eyes! Hahahahahaha!!!!

With that the voice disappeared and Isabella fainted. She did not attack him again and now they were ready to set out for Skyrim. Or were they?

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter One: The Battle For Orsinium[edit]

Just then, the heard a horn which was seemingly louder than an earthquake roared throughout the Wrothgarian and Dragontail Mountains. It belonged to no Mer, was not Breton, and was far too barbaric to be a horn of Hammerfell or Cyrodiil. So that only left... the Nords. Almost immediately after the horn began to sound, a huge army poured down the mountains.

-- 3 hours later --

It seemed to Areldir as though 3 days had passed though he knew it had barely been 3 hours. The arny was- for the most part- ready for battle, with only a hundred or so soldiers still preparing from the battle that drew omninously close. Even the greatest warriors the combined forces of Valenwood, High Rock, and The Summerset Isles swallowed hard. For any man with his sanity in tact fears a battle. Fears losing their life; never seeing those they love most again. But no soldier routed. Not a single one. They were now digging in, preparing for the conflict to come. The Nords were still coming, screaming like animals. But t the suprise of all, the gates of Orsinium opened up.

Several thousand Orsimer came through those gates, armored in the Orcish fashion. Ready to die by the side of their fellow Mer. And I would've gladly fought by the side of any of those brave souls any day.

- King Areldir; From The Battle of Orsinium, a small record kept in the Great Altmeri Library.

This small exerpt which was part of the war record The Battle of Orsinium, which can be found in the Great Altmeri Library, was one of the many military records written by Areldir himslef. It is the only - surving- solid evidence that the Orsimer really did take part in this battle. The whole record itself is some of the only written evidence that The Battle of Orsinium even took place.

The army was headed by none other than Kurdon gro-Bolmog, the right-hand man of the king of Orsinium.

"Kurdon? I had no idea you headed the armies of Orsinium. Then are you also a diplomat?" said Areldir.

"I am many things, Areldir. I am the right-hand man of the king of Orsinium. I am put in charge of all things that He deems important." said Kurdon gro-Bolmod, gracious as ever.

"But the-" Areldir was broken off.

"Let the idle chatter cease. For talk is for th weak, my good friend. A battle awaits us. And a great one at that!" declared Kurdon. Areldir nodded, and the army dug in.

-- 4 hours later --

Seven hours had passed since the initial blowing of th Nord army's horn and the were now close enough for he battle to begin. The horn blew once again and some of the Nord soldiers yelled "ATTACK!!!". The battle for Orsinium was on.

Immediately the Altmeri and Breton mages casted various Fire, Shock, and Frost spells. They knocked out the first few lines of soldiers and then the archers were instructed to fire a volley of arrows. The barrage took out a few more lines of troops and now the it was the melee soldier's turn. Blood stained the ground red and although any written records of what happened at the battle have yet to be found. All that is known is that somehow Areldir's and Kurdon's forces managed to win by a landslide. The battle for Orsinium had been one by the ity's defenders. Now they were finally ready to lanch a counter attack..........

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter Two: Markarth Side[edit]

The day of the siege of Markarth Side was the first time Sheogorath spoke to Areldir in his "concience".

"Ah yes, Marakarth Side. A prophet of mine lives here. He does not yet know it. Or perhaps he does. Or perhaps both. He is mad after all. Whether he does know it or not, the count of Markarth Side is a servant of mine. A pawn. But regardless of his current importance, he knows much. And I need to talk to him. He won't attack you. So don't kill him. And if you do, I'LL KILL YOU!!!!!! Well, do what you were doing, my little pawn. Till the next time we meet."

"Sir!" said Emanaril, right-hand man of Areldir, "We have finished the barracade around Markarth Side. No one goes in or out without our consent. What will you have us do now, sir?"

"Ehhh? Oh right. Put up the ladders and begin the siege." said Areldir.

The soldiers did so. The siege had begun. Soldier crowded around the ladders, climbing up them like spidders on a web. The battlemages and mages, by Areldi's orders, cast down he walls using magic. Nords poured out with he occasional Redgaurd, Dunmer, Imperial, and Breton to be seen. The battle had begun. The following is Areldir's description of events from part of his text on The Siege of Markarth Side.

The enemy, the Nords, poured out through the gates after our mages and battlemages cast down the west gate of Markarth Side. I, not wanting to increses my chances of being cut down, decided to go up one of the ladders. I cut one mans throat and tossed him of the wall. He got an arm stuck in the ladder, broke it, fell down pulling the ladder with him, and the ladder broke his neck. Another swung his sword to the left, to him, and I dodged his attack and turned to his back, cut my sword into his back, pulled to the side, and kicked him over the ledge. The next I had to block quite a few attacks. Up, down, left, right, left, down, up, right. It seemed like he would never stop. Finally he grew tired, as had I, I saw my chance and hit him a few times in the front, spun around, and broke his spine and his neck. By this time, I was a feral mess.

After about twelve grueling hours (estimated), the army of Markarth Side was defeated and Areldir's forces were victorious. Their first battle in which they were the attackers. And their frst attempt at, and their first successful, conquest. The campaign in Skyrim was going quite well so far. But all good things must end at some point.

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter Three: To Meet With A Madman[edit]

Now that Markarth Side, and all the lands west of it within Skyrim (except for Solitude and some of the land around it), were part of Areldir's empire by conquest, Areldir just needed to mae sure that the count of Markarth Side, Count Ragnar, would concede. Unknown to the rest of the army was Sheogorath's orders for Areldir. Areldir assumed that when he met with Ragnar, Sheogorath would tell him what to ask him. He knew that Daedric Princes dislike being troubled by affairs on the mortal plain in which case they had to manifest themselves in some way whether it be through a host or a statue. They simply dislike dealing with most mortals. Well, most of them do, anyway. When they got to the count's castle they found Ragnar, Ragnolf, and Edla, his children, waiting for them outside the castle.

"Greetings, Count Ragnar." said Areldir, bowing.

"Welcome, Altmer." Ragnar replied politely. The soft suttleness of Ragnar's voice astonished Areldir.

"I think you know why I'm here, Ragnar." said Areldir.

Ragnar's eyes narrowed. Whether he was in thought or angry at the sound of this vague statement, Areldir was not sure, "Yes, I believe I do." he said.

The intensity in his voice when he said "belive I do" made Areldir suspicious. But he did not let it get to him. "Come inside. Without you friends. This is quite personal. And do not worry, no harm shll come to you or your men. I am man enough to except defeat, even embrace it. And you have defeted me fairly like a man." said Ragnar.

Areldir nodded and beckoned his company to wait outside the castle. With that, Count Ragnar showed Areldi inside. Areldr barely noticed the count's children as they moved with soubtlety which was seemingly otherworldly. Perhaps it was. When he walked through he door, Areldir felt a tingling inside him. It felt good; it made him feel like he was home; in the home of madness.

"So, fellow prophet of Madness," said Ragnar, "What do you think of my earthly Madhouse?" inquired Ragnar.

"It feels like . . . . home." replied Areldir.

"Well that's good. I suppose Lord Sheogorath has sent you for me? What does My Lord wish?" said Ragnar.

"Well, I-" suddenly Areldir was cut off by another message from Sheogorath.

"Right, then. Now that you've found the sneaky little bugger, tell him this: The gates of Madness await thee, so say the Lord Sheogorath. Wide open. Yet tighty sealed. But really, it's either that it's both or neither. Maybe the same. For the gates of loneliness do not wait, and the Unwelcome must be welcomed." Sheogorath finished.

"What? What's the matter? Are you okay? What were you going to say? Mad One!" yelled Ragnar.

"Yes, yes. I'm quite alright. This is what Lord Sheogorath has ordered me to tell you," Areldir repeated all that the Mad God had said to the best of his ability. He often got confused, as Areldir has always been one to ponder his words as well as the words of others.

"I see. This is interesting. But I shall obey Him. To Solitude, then?" stated Ragnar.

"How did you deduce that?" said Areldir, now totally confused.

"Ah, His riddles can be difficult to unravel for newer followers. . . Someday you will learn how to, umm "translate" the riddles of our lord Sheogorath."

"Yes, I see. Well then, to Solitude." said Areldir.

The four exited and left for Solitude with Areldir's army. "Well, we my need to make a small detour on our way there, uhh. . . I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name."

"Areldir. And where will this "small detour" lead, might I ask?" replied Areldir.

"Well, Areldir, I just need to get some reinforcements." said Ragnar.

Where Ragnar was leading them, it did not matter to Areldir. But what did bother Areldir was how Ragnar had used the loose term "reinformcements". What kind of reinforcements was he talking about? Was he intending to turn on them? Areldir didn't let these unaswered questions bother him for long and soon all he was focused on was the road ahead of him and his so-called allies. But this would spark a life-changing era of utter insanity and paranoia for the young Areldir.

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter Four: Reinforcements?[edit]

After about four hours of marching North, Ragnar finally signalled that the had reaced their destination. The company obeyed, since the night befor Areldir had spoken to his soldirs along wiht Rganar about his "detour". They seemed to be headed to nowhere. Where they were heded was a short ways off the road as far as Areldir and his army could tell since it seemed that wher Ragnar had pointed was just a patch of snow. "Where are the reinforcements the Count Ragnar spoke of?" Areldir thought to himself, "I was expecting a camp or something of the like at least!" Just then, Ragnar, seemingly coming out of nowhere, put his han on Areldir's shoulder from behind. A startled Areldir, having been taken away from hs deep meditative state, spun around almost austentaciously.

"Sorry to startle you, Areldir," said Ragnar "But we've reached our destination." Areldir looked forward. He knew that he had continued to walk as he had pondered what was happening and what was going to happen, but due to the deep state of concentration he was in he had had no real idea on how far thy had gone until now. But it seemed to be the place Ragnar had pointed to.

The area they were now in seemed ordinary for Skyrim. The ground was covered in a thick, pearl-white blanket of snow. It snowed often in Skyrim, but it was currently Frostfall and the snow fell even more in even larger quantities. To the Northeast, a thick, black forest with an ominous aura about it stretched as far as theeye could see in that direction, which wasn't very far at all due to the towering trees that made up the woods. Areldir observed this seemingly ordinary piece of land for quite awhile and even after gazing through the trees, he saw nothing Human nor Mer nor Beast-Man. He began not only to question Ragnar's sanity but also his common sense.

"Ther appears to be nothing here, I know," said Ragnar, yet again startling Areldir "But allow me to do what I came here to do." Then Ragnar stepped forward, ahead of everyone else, and began inciting a chant in some lost language. It also could have simply been a variant of variety of different languages. Once he had finished his otherwordly chant, a gate similar to the one which had appeared in Niben Bay so many years ago appeared out of nothing. As is the way of madness.

Out of the blue portal in the center of the gate, Golden Saints, Boliwogs, Grummites, Dark Seducers and an array of other beings flooded out as water does from a dam which has just burst. With the Auriel as arrogant as ever and the Mazken as fearsome nd aggressive, their leader, the one called Haskill, appeared out ofthe crowd. Haskill approached Ragnar and Areldir.

"Well, well," Haskill began, "If it isn't Lord Sheogorath's newest servant. How quaint." he said, looking at Areldir with an expressionless face.

"It is an honor to meet you, Haskill." said Areldir, surprising himself with the knowledge of the man's name.

"The pleasure is all mine, truly." said Haskill, with hint of sarcasm, "But now to get down to busines. Lord Sheogorath is pleased that you two have opted to obey him. Therefore, he would be happy o gift you with this great army which he has kindly taken the time of gathering himself. Enjoy."

With that, Haskill disappeared through the gate which closed behind him, though the tri-faced statue remained.

"Who was that man?" asked Areldir.

"Haskill, the right-hand man of Lord Sheogorath," Ragnar siad with a hateful scowl, though not towards Arelir the Altmer presumed. And Ragnar's next comment confirmed Areldir's hypothesis, "And a damn right snob."

Then Ragnar turned, facing the army. A Mazken and an Auriel stood forward. They seemed to be the "generals" of the army.

"Orders, Mad One?" they said.

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter Five: Solitude[edit]

The next day the army marched north. The army supplied by Sheogorath brought their own provisions as well as some extra for Areldir's forces. The unbelievable cold was more piercing than ever. 'How do these Nords manage to live in this hell?' thought Areldir. The clanking of armor echoed throughout the area and the army's march was dull, slow . . . unenthusiastic. Unbeknownst to Areldir, Kurdon, and Edgar the aluring promise of riches was waring off now. This would prove troublesome in the times to come. In the army, the Bretons took left and right flanks while the Bosmer took the rear. The Altmer took the middle, and the Orsimer took the front. The Bosmer are superb archers, so it made perfect sense to put them in back since they do not do as well in close combat as some of the other races. The Bretons are excelent Mages, Monks, and Battlemages so putting them on the left and right flanks would allow them to cast spells freely, heal wounded soldiers, and protect the inner ranks from the enemy. The Altmer are amazing sorcerors and mages but do not do well in close combat. Therefore it is common sense to put them in the middle so that they may be protected by the others but may also cast offensive, defensive, and restorative spells. The Orsimer make the best warriors in Tamriel - being rivalled only by the Redguards of Hammerfell - and therefore are placed in the front to protect all the others and fight head-on with the enemy in close combat.

Areldir soon remembered a contract he recieved while he was an active member of the Dark Brotherhood in which he was ordered to assassinate a renegade necromancer in Solitude.


He had tracked The King of Worms to Solitude just before he fled to Daggerfall; just before the Warp In the West. The battle that ensued in Solitude left 23 living victims dead as well as the numerous undead the Necromancer had conjured up. He had been sent with Vicente Valtieri and three other lower-ranking assassins to eliminate Mannimarco. Surprisingly enough, it had been the Archmage of the Mages Guild who had presented the contract; who had carried out the Black Sacrament. Unfortunately, in the midst of the post-battle chaos Mannimarco had gotten away and escaped to High Rock, only to be cut down years later in 3E 433 by a former Archmage of the Mages Guild. From then on, Areldir deeply regretted not going after The King of Worms himself -- which would have spared many lives -- despite being a student of Necromancy himself.

Areldir was so distracted by his thoughts that he did not even notice the battle start; did not even notice a gleaming silver arrow shoot straight for him until it was too late. He scrambled to the left, trying to evade the arrow. Not far enough. The arrow pierced Areldir in his left arm, just a few inches away from the joint. As the blood gushed out, Areldir let out an ear-piercing cry of agony...

Part Two: Skyrim: Chapter Six: I Sure As Hell Didn't See That Coming[edit]

Areldir fell to his knees, snapping his eyes shut in pain and clutching his wounded arm. The healers rushed over to help him but he ushered them off.

"No!" he said, "No. I can heal it myself." he had always wanted to do things his way.

One of the healers shook her head, "Stuborn as always, I see."

Areldir would have rolled his eyes but he was too busy muttering a string of curses which belonged, in the healers opinions, in a bar or a sailor ship. The process of healing, however, came all too easy to Areldir. Indeed, his knack for restorative magics could not be overlooked even by the most critical and powerful of Mages. To him, it was as easy a task as breathing.

He had healed himself within a few seconds and had stood up, now striding across the soon-to-be battlefield over to his right-hand man, Emanaril. If not for the soft crunching of the snow beneath his feet, there would have been no way to know of his approach. Emanaril spun around before Areldir had reached him, and was looking straight at him, waiting, his expression impassive.

"Emanaril." said Areldir, "What is our status?"

"We are ready, my lord. We have dispatched most of the archers atop the walls and they show no signs of coming to face us out here."

Areldir chuckled lightly. "Well, then, let's not keep them waiting." He beckoned his head toward the head of the army. "Shall we?"

"Of course, my lord." replied Emanaril and the two tread lightly and nimbly to the front of the gathered force. Ragnar approached Sheogorath's army, who had kept themselves somewhat separate. After talking over with the soldiers and creatures, Ragnar walked over to Areldir.

"Orders, Mad One?" he laughed at the hint of deja vu.

The siege of Solitude was about to begin.

End of Book Two