This story picks up some time after the end of The Hero in Disguise. I wanted to leave the ending of my last story open-ended so that I could reveal bits and pieces about the conclusion throughout this story. I really wanted this to be my crowning achievement and make this Trilogy go out with a bang. I will be introducing some new characters and bringing back some new ones. I just hope I can keep everyone on their toes. Please be critical, and I hope you enjoy.
Prologue
The epic battle between good and evil ended without a single mortal soul knowing what happened. Who won? At what cost? Questions that still remain unanswered and shrouded in mystery, plaguing us all to this very day. My name is Allentus, and I am a member of the Blue Lions of Cyrodiil, a band formed for the protection of the people in place of the now corrupt cities of the Imperial Province. Created by our greatest hero’s only son, Alexander Moorcroft has given our leader, Torin Moorcroft a great gift…His own blood. Burning within him is the ferocity of his father as well as his gift of magicka.
Torin was born a leader and even his mother could not deny his calling. Although she had already lost her true love to the bitter mistress of war, she could see the fire of her husband burning within her child, and had to let him do what he thought was right. Torin created the Cyrodiil chapter of the Blue Lions as soon as he was the age of manhood and while young, he was still able to captivate us all with his charm, his commanding personality and his unprecedented battle savvy and skill with magicka.
I can remember the day we all first met in his father’s old haven nestled in the quiet end of Anvil, just beside the newly recreated chapel. I can remember seeing the marvels of Alexander’s journey and the various armors he had on display, decorating a number of wooden mannequins. It was akin to a museum of heroes and other than the Moorcroft family, we were the first to lay eyes upon the artifacts that were now of legend. Torin stood fully clad in his own variance of the Blue Lions armor, updated to fit the times with polished steel plates reinforced with a layer of double knit chain mail on the exposed joints and a sturdy but flexible layer of leather underneath the plates to absorb the impact of blunt weapons.
We all stood in awe, initially oblivious to why we were all gathered together in this memorial to Alexander but the young Moorcroft’s words would shortly enlighten us all as to why we had been invited here today.
“I stand here, before you all to propose a remedy to a problem that is slowly but surely creeping up on the fair citizens of Cyrodiil. We watch as a dark age descends upon us and we march forward without a rightful heir to the throne of our once glorious empire. The last of the Septim Blood, Martin Septim had given his life to stop the advances of a powerful Daedric Prince and now the people of Cyrodiil need something to look up to, something to remove them from the oppressing grasp of depression.”
“The Blue Lions stand for all that is true and good in this world and I wish to carry on the legacy of my father with his vision. I hereby extend an offer to the lot of you, the very best of your individual trades to come with me, to fight for those without strength, and speak for those that have no voice.”
“The Empire needs our help in restoring Cyrodiil to its former glory! The Elder Council needs our help in keeping the peace and ensuring the safety of our people! The City guards need our help in removing the fear of simply walking alone…and I need your help to do all of this. As one man, I am only human; but as the Blue Lions, we will together be among the gods. Acting as one entity under this banner we will do everything I have mentioned and more. We will conquer evil, corruption and cruelty and batter the enemies of the empire into the ground!” Torin shouts as he thrusts an armored fist into the air above his head.
The excited cheers fill the old Moorcroft Manor as the young leader turns his back to us, only to return a moment later with a single, blue and white tabard that gallantly gleams with the crest of the Cyrodiil Blue Lions. As the cheers grow in intensity, he extends his arms, showing the mighty crest to his audience. As a member of that audience, I was drawn to the proud article of valor. The eyes of the lion on the crest seemed to stare directly at me, calling me to accept the offer from the young Moorcroft. Initially, I was unsure due to the young leader being half my age, but he was an image of his father who I had watched become the hero of Cyrodiil when I was but a young man myself.
Alexander Moorcroft was a household name where I am from. I remember seeing him in Bravil as he charged through town atop a mighty horse before leaping to battle and leading a small band of guards into a terror-inducing portal to Oblivion. He looked completely fearless as he rode into battle and I can still remember all of Bravil as well as those from outside of town gathering around the statue of the hero that was erected in my city when we all heard word of his disappearance. Alexander still stands as a testament to what a single person is capable of when he is needed, and I now have the opportunity to pay my respects through his son.
Torin grips the Tabard tightly and looks at his audience, choosing his next words in his head carefully. As a quick smirk crosses his face, he explodes with another fiery speech that rallies us, fueling us all with the power of his fallen father.
“The Elder Council strains to keep the fraying ties together that barely hold each city to peace; and poverty creeps up on the lower class populace tempting them to a life of crime and thievery. Groups of bandits that claim almost each major road continue to grow in numbers as they promise food and riches to down-on-their-luck men only wishing to provide for their desperate and starving families.
“Do we stand by and watch this all happen? Do we wait for a nameless hero to come and save us all? Or do we stand tall, as proud members of this glorious Empire and become the voice of reason? Who is it that will police the corrupt guards that are directed by corrupt counts and countesses? Under the order of the Nine, following the same rules as each of the Septim blood, the Blue Lions will act in the absence of a true Emperor; but the biggest question for all my brothers and sisters…who will answer this call? Who will join me in this task? I can promise tales of glory and how we can change the times, but I would much rather prove this in action rather than in speech! Who is it that will take this tabard and become the first to join the ranks of this glorious family?” Torin asks with the tabard still extended in our direction.
As I had mentioned previously, I idolized this young man’s father when I was but a child and I believe we owe more than our lives to this family but to ask normal men and women to join the ranks of the Blue Lions? The Blue Lions were epic, skilled and legendary soldiers whose skills were unmatched. How could we ever live up to the name that is associated to the tabard that he had locked so firmly in his armored gauntlet? Curious, and overflowing with the empowering words of the young Moorcroft, I raised my hand hoping to even feel the exquisite fabric that the tabard of the Blue Lions was weaved from.
I watched as Torin released it from his grip, letting it sail over the heads of the others as it rested close to me, now locked in my hands. The feeling not only of the material, but the sheer joy of touching such an artifact made my heart skip beats. The tabard alone filled me with such vigor that if I hadn’t known better I would think it to be magically enchanted. Torin chuckled as he noted the fire that was now burning in my eyes. He made a motion, encouraging me to let it rest atop my shoulders and announced the second in command of the Cyrodiil Blue Lions.
“The man before you has answered the calling, my brothers and sisters. His initiative and quick thinking will prove an asset worth focusing on. You may not know it my friends, but all of us possess unique traits that when focused on and improved, will make us more than what we ever imagined. I can, and will teach you all to fight with help from Vvardenfel’s Blue Lions; but the skills and traits you all possess at this time, the same skills that give you work will prove invaluable to us all.”
“Around you, you will see that I have gathered no one but regular, ordinary people. Men and women that you would meet at any time, on any given day and it is the common man and woman that has the most potential to unlock. My father was no messenger from the gods! He was a child with a skill in manipulating magicka, as well as the will to become something great, and if it wasn’t his own father that helped him unlock the might within himself; he might have become a smith, a scholar, a shop owner or maybe even a mercenary. Together we will unlock the hidden assets we all have in ourselves and become as legendary if not more legendary than the original Blue Lions that my father forged.” Torin explains as the blood of his audience begins to course, turning an excited crowd into an adrenaline fueled rally.
I watched as more accepted the challenge set before them, reaching out to their own blue and white tabards so that they too could finally act, rather than sitting back and waiting for someone to do something. Torin’s face was gleaming with pride as more and more men and women donned the signature article that officially appointed them as members of the new Blue Lions.
Two people stepped down from a staircase leading to the upper floor of Moorcroft Manor. Two older men that also sported the Blue Lions Crest. Something told me that I was in the presence of two of the original Lions but I could not be certain. One was a tall, slender high-elf who had in his possession, a number of weapons ranging from a long pole-arm strapped to his back and a pair of silver short blades secured neatly to his waist, partially hidden by his own tabard.
The other was a burly orcish man with graying black hair with a matching beard. His face was scarred from the top of his forehead down to the bottom of his cheek on his right hand side and he seemed to be blind in his right eye. Across his armored back was the largest war hammer I had ever laid eyes upon. Both men possessed a tremendous presence and their eyes, while kind in expression, were deep and ferocious with a penetrating gaze that could force the darkest of men to confess their wrongdoings.
The High-Elf man was eventually introduced to us as Lance, the weapons expert who had been a trusted friend to Alexander and member of the original Blue Lions. The orc was none other than Gorag-Go’Tragurg who served Alexander through the inception of the Blue Lions until his final battle beside Taillus in Vvardenfel. These two men, along with Tara who was one of the most highly decorated Bowyers in all of Morrowind were invited to train us all to become the Cyrodiil Blue Lions.
The remainder of the night was spent introducing ourselves to the legends of the original Blue Lions as well as becoming acquainted with our new comrades. Torin was kind enough to give us a full tour of Moorcroft Manor while giving us a history of each armor set and weapon that was on display. We looked over the soul gems of creatures Alexander had trapped as well as the books he had written on his journeys. The book on his adversary turned ally, Taillus was particularly intriguing; as was his commentary on being incarcerated due to being trapped in Taillus’ own body.
The evening ended with Torin giving each of us a sealed envelope and instructions on where our next meeting would be located. He directed us to refrain from opening the envelope until we were sure we were alone. Standing in a uniformed line, we all took the opportunity to shake the hands of those that would soon transform us all into living legends before taking our leave for the night, and walking to our awaiting rooms at the local Inn.
Out of respect, I decided to take off my tabard as it looked odd atop my modest clothing. I preferred to save it for decorating a collection of armor. I smiled as the rest of my new comrades adopted my idea, neatly folding their tabards as well before carrying them delicately under one arm. The Anvil Inn, as I called it for ignorance of knowing its real name, was quiet and quaint; just enough to get a good night’s sleep to feel nicely rested for the morning.
My comrades and I were treated to a complementary breakfast from the proprietor of the Inn as he told us tales of Alexander Moorcroft’s stay in Anvil. The Inn owner told us that he had never stayed with them exclusively but would practically donate enough goods to supply him with a full inventory. The proprietor told us of how Merin, Alexander’s love raised their two young children in Moorcroft Manor with help from the entire Blue Lions faction of Vvardenfel. He told us tales of how young Torin would be seen practicing blades with Lance, bows with Sara and Tara and magicka with his own mother.
It seemed that young Torin had wanted to excel in the arts more than anything. He idolized his father even though the two had never met face-to-face before. It was truly a saddening tale of how Alexander disappeared along with his ally, Taillus never to be seen by a mortal man again. Although they managed to remove the threat posed by Molag Bal, the price was steep indeed. I wondered if Torin ever had hopes of finding his father. I wondered if perhaps this was all a rally to get help in finding Alexander so that they could finally meet face-to-face. I had my doubts that either man was still among the living but one can dream can they not?
I had decided to open the envelope given to me by Torin Moorcroft last night as I lay atop my bed for the night. I read the contents carefully as it detailed our next meeting spot.
“Travel west out of Anvil using the stables on the outer walls as a starting point. Crest a small hill and look down upon a cliff edge to see a small island. This is where your legacy begins young lion cubs.” The note states as I read excitedly with wide eyes. After carefully folding the letter and placing it gently back into its envelope home, I lay back letting my tired head hit my pillow. An eventful night that will most likely pale in comparison to days that will follow…
The next morning greets me with a blazing hot sun filtering through the paned window in my small room. I could hear the creaking of beds as my new Lion brothers and sisters stir in the limbo that is half-sleep. I slowly wipe my eyes as I sit myself up while trying to force my eyes to focus after a night of restful sleep. As my vision begins to return to normal, I am alerted to a presence in my room. Still groggy, I let out a surprised shout of shock as a sturdy figure stands, blocking my exit. As my heart begins racing to the point of it making its grand escape through the front of my chest, I chuckle nervously as I begin to see what I was truly faced with.
“Well if my imagination is my worst enemy then I am safe for now.” I chuckle to myself as I slide out of bed to see a full suit of studded leather armor with the chest, shoulders, arms and legs further protected with plates of polished iron. It seems that I had a visitor in the night who had delivered this gift while I was in the world of dreams. They also decided to drape the armor with my own Blue Lions tabard. I wasn’t sure if the others had received this gift until a shriek in the room neighboring mine revealed the answer.
Roughly an hour later brought us all to the lobby of the Inn, waiting for the others to don their new gifts. Without saying a word, we nodded a quick thank-you to the Inn proprietor and made our exit. Following the instructions given to us, we traveled west from the Anvil horse stables and began cresting the foothill before us.
As one of the first to crest the top of the hill, I was shocked to see the small island described to me in the letter from Torin. It would prove to be a challenging jump due to the added weight of wearing armor but I was warned that things would not come easy here. With a deep breath, and a quick wipe of my brow, I stepped back, looked forward and jumped with everything I had. I could see Torin waiting for us on the island as well as Lance who was carrying a tote full of various weapons. They both watched as both of my feet left the safety of solid ground and followed with their eyes as my body plummeted down to the crashing waves below.
I could feel my breath being robbed from me as I crashed into the face of the island. Flat, cold and unforgiving rock met me with the harshness of reality as the cold waves nipped at my armored toes. My fingers gripped the ledge of the cliff face saving me from a fall that would have hurt my pride more than anything. It would have been a fall not more than seven feet but I wasn’t about to lose my grip. I looked as Torin extended his hand to my peers, instructing them to stay in place. He stepped back to give me room and never once offered to help me up. In looking back, I realize why he did this and it would prove a life saving experience in the future.
“Your comrade here has again taken the initiative and has chosen to be the first to test the gap that separates us. Why do you think he did this? Was it an attempt to prove himself? Was it a chance to show off? Why would this man jump blindly, not knowing the limits of his own body?” Torin shouts atop the wind that tries to drown his voice out. I look up as my arms begin to quiver from the stress of trying to hold my body up. Torin kneels beside my hands and asks me why it was that I had chosen to jump.
“I didn’t want to rust out my new set of armor and to be truthful; I am a much better jumper than I am a swimmer sir!” I shout before gritting my teeth from the pain of my arms pulling almost out of their sockets. I at least managed to free a batch of chuckles from the group and Torin smiles as he gets back to his feet. Fearing that my arms would break, I began pulling with all my might. I tried to ignore the pain shooting up and down my arms and finally managed to stand before Torin and Lance on the small island.
“If you truly are a better jumper than a swimmer, we best be getting you some lessons on how to swim!” Torin chuckles as he gives me a pat on the back while the others erupt into a fit of laughter.
With applause from my peers, and a handshake that could have torn my arm off at this point from Torin and Lance, I smiled wearily as I began to see what it would take to become a Blue Lion. We watched as some of the others tried to gain access to the island. Some managed to jump without fail, while others plunged down into the water below. Some became enraged and vowed to never return, and others simply laughed at their misfortune. Torin watched as a few of his men turned in their tabards and left in favor of their previous lives but he informed us that we would see more of our peers turn yellow with cowardice, it was inevitable, which I agreed to… I just never imagined what was to follow.
Just as I was catching my breath, and everyone else had made the jump to the island, we were all instructed to fetch a weapon from the pack that Lance had delivered. We would choose the weapon in order of when we had made the jump meaning that I would choose first. I remembered back when I was a child to when I would help my father clear trees. As a gift, my father had given me my own hand axe which I still have at my home in Bravil so instinctively, I grabbed at the axe that was neatly bound in a leather sheathing and stepped back to let the others take their choice of what remained.
After everyone had taken their pick of weapon, we were all instructed to climb back to the ledge that we had once stood. Gorag-Go’Tragurg had finished setting up a wooden ramp that made things much easier and he tested it by walking across it himself. After we had all made it back to the ledge that looked over the tiny island, Lance followed with the sack that contained the remnants of the picked over weapons. Torin remained, scanning us as we passed by his gaze. We lined up, shoulder to shoulder and waited for what was to come. An air of seriousness was evident and I could hear not only my nervous heartbeat but the hearts of the two on either side of me.
The wind was picking up, almost making it hard to balance as Torin marched from side to side, eyeing us all and sizing us up for whatever reason as he kept his hand on the hilt of his shimmering short blade. With one deft movement, Torin thumbed out the blade from its sheath, drew his hand back quickly, letting the blade float in mid air for a fraction of a second before catching the handle with his other hand and pointing the blade at one of my brothers. The young Imperial man gulped hard as Torin motioned for him to travel back across the makeshift wooden bridge. Gorag stepped aside letting the man pass as he held on to his short blade rather tightly. Nervously, the man stops just feet away from Torin and looks at our leader with a petrified gaze.
“Why did you choose the short blade, cub?” Torin barks as he points his own blade at the young Imperial. The man jumps in fear even though there was no way Torin’s weapon could reach him. The man stammers and stutters before making his reply that it was lighter to wield than a mace, and more versatile than an axe. This response seemed to appease Torin as a smirk crosses his face quickly before fading once again to seriousness.
“Have you ever used a short blade, or any other weapon for that matter?” Torin asks as his blade still points in the young Imperial’s direction. The Imperial shakes his head nervously as he lets his own blade dangle at his side. Torin notes the shoddy stance but he also knew that these men were no warriors…at least not yet.
Like a bolt of lightening, Torin hopped backwards, pulling back his blade. Again, the blade was free from his hand and was seemingly floating for a partial second in mid air before the young Moorcroft gripped tightly and lunged forward. A collective gasp escaped each and every mouth but Torin’s as the blade was on a screaming crash course for the young Imperial’s chest.
Pure, primal instinct surged through the young man’s body as he quickly raised his blade. The young man stumbled backwards and fell to his hindquarters but nevertheless managed to glance the blow from Torin. The Imperial man’s blade was knocked into the air by the strike and Torin snatched it from the air with his free hand before burying half of the blade’s length in the grass between them. He hinted that using the hilt of the blade to get up would aid the Imperial in the cumbersome armor.
“That was the first time you had ever been attacked with a weapon was it not?” Torin asks as he watched the young man get to his feet. With a nod of confirmation, the Imperial revealed the answer.
“Each of you are wearing armor that is heavily weighted. This is not the armor I expect you to use. Iron is a fool’s metal and should only be worn by wastes of space. You will not ever use this type of armor in battle but this will make it clear how difficult it is to move in a full set of armor. When you graduate from this armor, your new suit will feel weightless to you, and in training with this armor, you will become more in control of your own movements.” Torin explains as he paces back and forth before us.
“Lance has also taken the time to add weights to your weapons as well. They will be cumbersome and awkward, but you will then be able to swing your true weapons with ease. This marks the beginning of the most rigorous training regime you could ever face…but it will make you unparalleled in the face of battle I assure you. I will assign you battle partners to spar with for the rest of the day. Then we can all go back to town and rest.” Torin states as he begins to pick the partners.
Today I have already learned more about combat then I have ever known. I was beginning to feel more and more confident about this whole idea each time I think about it. Torin was truly gifted, and is a true leader much like his father. As I look down at my aching arms, I promised myself that I would never give up and that I would become an asset to this Faction. This was the one chance I had to make a name for myself and I was prepared to fight through hell for it!