This is basically the main quest but I've added and changed it around .

PART I

As a young Nordic man, Eric was a poor miner. He grew tired of waking up every morning and working his fingers to the bone, but he did it to put food on the table.

A few years had passed when his parents died of a terrible disease. The only thing he had left was the little cabin his parents had built when he was born. He worked at the mines for several more months and quit. He left Skyrim a few years later.

He then traveled to Cyrodiil to try his hand at the Arena in the Imperial City. After his first victory against an Argonian, he immediately grew attracted to the sport. He steadily rose through the ranks until he had reached Hero status. He then had to face the best the green team had to offer, Felius Redoran, a Dark Elf with a nasty mace called Dagon's Fist. Eric defeated Felius with a well placed blow to his head. Eric had finally become the Champion of the Arena! He then challenged Bartholomeo, the Grand Champion. The match started off with blades colliding and sparks flying. The match lasted at least an hour and Bartholomeo and Eric grew fatigued. Eric's armor was falling off from all the slits in it.

Then Eric swung his blade, it was sloppy but he timed it just right. The flat of Eric's blade broke Bartholomeo's arm with a deafening crack. He fell to the ground and started to yell in an agonizing tone. The crowd was screaming,"Cut his throat! Cut his throat!"

Eric stuck the blade to Bartholomeo's neck and gave a powerful pull. Blood poured out of the wound. He was dead. Eric had become the Grand Champion. He lifted his bloodied sword and let out a battle cry. People started calling him the Crimson Blade and he liked it.

Eric "The Crimson Blade" Snowmane purchased himself a quaint little home in the waterfront of the Imperial City. He was drinking a tall glass of mead, when he heard a knock at the door.

"Excuse me, sir," a legionnaire said." I've received a report that you murdered Hondar Ferano, a High Elf that resides in the Temple District."

"What?!" Eric shouted."I've murdered no one, I've been framed!"

"We have a witness, 'Crimson Blade'," the soldier argued."Come with me, you are under arrest."

It had been two years since that dreadful day. It was a regular prison day, thrashings and one meal, when two heavily armed soldiers and their captain came to the door of his cell. Someone else was standing behind them. It looked like Emperor Septim!

"Prisoner," the captain said. "I'm Captain Renault. You need to stand aside, I won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way." Eric stepped to the side and Captain Renault walked over and pushed a stone ten rows from the floor. What sounded like stone grinding against stone was Eric's bed disappearing into the floor, and the wall next to his bed was actually a door leading into what looked like an ayleid ruin under the city.

"Looks like this is your lucky day, prisoner. I'm Baurus and that man over there is Glardmir," he said. "Stay close behind and don't do anything you'll regret." They weren't even within two minutes of their trek when they were attacked by men in gray robes. Eric didn't have a weapon so he fought with his hands. He snapped a two of the men's necks and broke the other man's shin. After the battle Baurus said," That was amazing! Where did you learn to fight so well with your fists?"

"Baurus don't give a low-life that kind of admiration!" Glardmir said." Captain Renault's dead, where's the Emperor?"

PART II

"I am over here," the emperor said. He was unusually calm. He then paced over to Eric," I'm afraid that we must now part ways, but only for a short while. We shall cross paths again." And with that they entered a door that they locked behind them. Eric heard a noise, it sounded like a rat. He glanced around and noticed dust coming out of the old stones in the wall. Then, it crumbled revealing a snarling but harmless rat. Eric kicked it into the corner where it curled into a ball and whimpered. He climbed through the hole in the wall and into a cavern. Every so often he'd run into a rat or goblin, which he either injured or killed. Eric was a few feet from a door, hopefully leading him into the room where the emperor went, when a goblin charged out of the shadows with an old rusty dagger held high. Eric dogded the attack and picked up a large rock. He then bashed the goblin over the head with it. He entered the door that lead to the next room and discovered himself in the Ayleid-looking ruin he was once in.

The only thing the emperor saw were his guards and the dead heaps of bodies.

"Sire, are you all right?" Baurus queried.

"Yes, I am fine," Emperor Septim replied.

"Shh! I hear something," Glardmir whispered." I think it's that prisoner! I'm going to kill him, he might be working with the assassins!"

"No, Glardmir. You will not harm him, he may be our last hope to stop this chaos," the emperor replied.

Just then, Eric heard the emperor and Glardmir whispering. So, he moved closer and knocked over an old fragile urn.

"Damn!" Eric whispered.

The emperor and Baurus were resting. Eric jumped from a ledge and turned a corner to find Glardmir with his sword drawn, ready to attack.

"STOP! What are you doing, you piece of High Elf trash? " he asked.

"Watch where you walk, prisoner," Glardmir replied curtly. Eric entered the room where Baurus and the emperor sat.

"Please, come here Eric I wish to tell you something," Emperor Septim said. Eric wondered how the emperor knew his name.

"Yes, your majesty, what is it?" Eric questioned.

"I have had visions of you in my dreams, and this marks the day of my death. You must find my son," the old emperor said."The last heir to my throne, only he can light the Dragonfires. We shall go a bit further, then I must face my apportioned fate." They went to gate, but it was locked.

"Dammit! That gate isn't supposed to be locked, this is a trap!" Glardmir said as he pulled his sword from its beautifully crafted sheath.

"We could use that other gate over there,"Baurus said," but it looks like a dead end." They entered the other room. It was small.

"They're behind us! Prisoner look after the emperor, guard him with your life," Glardmir said.

"AAAAAGGGGHHHH!!" someone screamed.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!!" Baurus and Glardmir both yelled.

Only Baurus stood after the battle. Glardmir had fallen and so had twenty of those wretched gray robed men.

"Eric take this. It is the Amulet of Kings, take it to Jaufree at the Weynon Priory,"the emperor said." He will tell you where to find my son. Find him and close shut the jaws... of Oblivion."

PART III

Then, in a little alcove, a stone wall slid down to reveal an assassin."Take this, you wily old coot!" the assassin said. He dug his sword into the emperor's back. Blood stained his beautifully decorated satin robes.

"No!" Eric charged at the assassin, took his stained blade and plunged it into his heart. The assassin fell backwards with a deep groan.

Baurus ran over, "Sire! Sire! No... dammit! He was a great leader and now he is dead. I've failed in the duty I swore to uphold."

"You haven't failed your duty, there is one more heir to the throne for you to protect," Eric consoled." The emperor gave me the Amulet of Kings. He said a man named Jauffre will know where to find his last son."

"Jauffre, my grandmaster, yes he will know. As for the emperor's last son, I do not know about that," Baurus replied with a solemn look on his face."Here take this key, it should get you passed the door into the sewers. Maybe the alcove that assassin came through will get you to the door."

Eric thanked him and entered the alcove. He made his way through the sewers until he had reached a grate leading out into the sunny midday. After he left the sewers, Eric went to the Imperial City to see where Weynon Priory was. He was told it was in Chorrol.

He left the Imperial City and traveled to Chorrol. Eric arrived at Weynon Priory several hours later. He entered the priory.

"May I help you?" asked a priest.

"Yes, where is Jauffre?" Eric asked.

"Right up stairs, my friend," the priest answered. Eric went upstairs and found Jaufree reading a book.

"Excuse me, the emperor sent me to find you. He said I should give you the Amulet of Kings. He also said something about his last son," Eric said.

"Why did he give this to you?" Jauffre asked.

"I am displeased to say this, but the emperor is dead,"Eric replied."He was assassinated by men in grey robes."

"Oh no. This is bad, very bad," Jauffre said." As for his son, yes there is one more left. Travel to Kvatch you will find him there, his name is Martin."

Eric left Weynon Priory and traveled the two hour trip through the wilderness to Kvatch. He saw a zig-zag slope that led to the castle, a smoking pile of rubble. He went up this zig-zag hill, only to come upon a barricade where five to ten soldiers were standing.

"Go back down the slope, civilian!" the captain blustered.

"What happened here?" Eric asked.

"In case you couldn't tell, someone opened a gate of hell onto our very doorstep!" He shot back."And daedra have been coming out every few minutes."

"I didn't mean to upset you. But I can help,"Eric replied.

"Help? What makes you think you can help? You don't even have a damn weapon!" the captain said.

"Give me yours then," Eric suggested."I'll bring it back."

"Here. Now go shut that portal!" the captain handed him the sword and Eric ran through the gate to Oblivion.

PART IV

Eric was inside of one of the hottest, uninhabitable places he had ever been. Then he saw a Kvatch city guard running frantically from one place to another.

"What are you doing?" Eric asked, puzzled.

"Can't you see?" the guard said."Those daedroth have been chasing me for the past hour." Eric looked to his right to see three large reptilian creatures lumbering their way.

"This should be a fair fight, now that there's two of us and three of them," Eric said.

"Can I return to the captain and give him a report on what happened here?" the guard asked.

"Okay, you coward. Go back through the gate to Kvatch. I'll handle this," Eric said, disgusted at what a coward that guard was. Eric charged at the daedroth and was picked up and thrown to the hot, charred ground. He jumped back to his feet and dodged yet another attempt at an attack by the giant reptiles. He rolled behind one of them and ran up its back.

"Haha," Eric heartily laughed as he thrusted his blade through the skull of the daedroth. It fell with a screech. He continued the same process of dodging and stabbing. Eventually all the vicious daedroth lie dead at his feet.

Eric walked through the realm until he found the entrance to a large dark tower with a fiery beam shooting from the top. At that instant he knew this is where the portal of hell was getting its power. Inside, he glanced around and noticed a strange black door, his adventurous spirit kicked in at that moment and he rushed through.

When he entered the room, he saw solid black pews and a fountain spurting blood. Eric also saw ten strange looking humans. Then he remembered something from a book explaining who those people were. They were one of the Daedric Lord's soldiers, the Dremora. That's when he realized he was in Mehrunes Dagon's realm, the realm of destruction. He snuck around them and went up a spiral-like staircase. He then made it to the top of the tower. There was a material that Eric thought was human flesh, when he looked at his boots they had blood all over them, which confirmed his guess.

He then saw a stone, where the beam going through the tower was concentrated. He grabbed it and the tower made a screeching sound. Everything was crumbling down around him. He bolted out through the tower. The building buckled under the pressure and tilted over in a big cloud of sulfuric dust, melting into the lava. He sprinted through the portal, the gate collapsed as soon as he dived out.

"You made it?" the cowardly guard asked, shocked.

"Of course," Eric said."I almost didn't though. Still, I could have used your help, but you wouldn't have made it out in time."

"Just luck," the captain said.

"I didn't see you go through that hell-spawned gate!" Eric shot back." By the way here's your weapon back."

"Sorry, I am so frustrated," the captain replied."At least we can get into the city now."

"Let's go, I need to get a man named Martin out of there," Eric said.

"You mean the priest?" the captain asked.

"Yes," Eric answered. They entered the city and trodded across the burnt ground to the chapel, the only building left standing.

"Okay! Everybody, I need you to follow Tarra. She'll take you all to the camp," the captain said.

"Wait, I need to speak with Martin," Eric said. A man in a blue robe walked up to him, it was Martin.

"You... closed that gate. How?" Martin questioned.

"That's not important right now," Eric said." I need you to come with me."

"For what reason?" Martin asked.

"Those daedra came here to kill you, Martin," Eric answered.

PART V

"What? An entire city, destroyed to get at me?" Martin asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes. You see, you are the Emperor's last son, Martin," Eric answered.

"That is impossible; I can't be the Emperor's son. I am the son of a farmer,” Martin said doubtedly.

"You have to come with me," Eric said.

"I must keep the people content," Martin argued.

"If you don't come with me now, those daedra will come back for you and kill everyone else,"Eric said, becoming angry with the stubborn priest.

"Fine. But only because I don't want anymore harm to come to these people," Martin said.

"But, you should help us get the rest of the daedra out of the castle!" the captain said desperately.

"I can't. I must take Martin to Weynon Priory," Eric said.

"If you must," the captain said."Before you go, take this." The captain handed Eric his silver longsword. "It should help you in your travels."

Eric thanked the captain and departed with Martin in tow. It was late into the night and Eric and Martin grew tired. But Eric didn't wish to stop and rest, for fear of being ambushed by Daedra or assassins. It was noon when they reached the dirt path to the priory. The blacksmith ran up to them.

"HELP! You've got to help us! They have killed Jauffre," the blacksmith yelled despairingly.

"NO! How could they do such a thing? He was the most capable of defending himself!" Eric shouted.

"He was in the chapel and several travelers went in and slaughtered him before he could call for help!" the blacksmith uttered.

"Where are they now?" Eric asked, his blood boiling with anger and frustration.

" In the priory," the blacksmith answered. Eric ran inside the priory with his sword drawn.

"DAMN YOU ALL!” Eric yelled as he thrusted his blade into an assassin's side. Through his fit of rage, he slaughtered every one of the assassins in less than a minute. Eric was standing there, covered head to toe in blood and panting very heavily.

"By the Nine!" Martin said, standing in awe at Eric.

"Where is the blacksmith?" Eric asked.

"He is outside, where you left him," Martin answered, afraid of the enraged Nord standing before him.

"Please bring him to me," Eric said through his heavy panting. Martin returned a few moments later with the terrified blacksmith.

"Where is the Amulet?" Eric demanded.

"Jauffre hid it in the hidden room," the blacksmith said." That cupboard is the door." Eric walked to the cupboard. He entered the room and searched everything. He didn't find the amulet.

"One of them must have made off with it before we got here," Eric said.

"Jauffre told me to give you this," the blacksmith said as he handed him a sealed letter. It said:

If you have Martin with you, take him to Cloud Ruler Temple. It is northwest of Bruma. If you can, get him there as quickly as possible.

Jauffre 3E 433

PART VI

Eric and Martin were traveling up the Silver Road, almost to their destination. It was eight o' clock when they arrived in Bruma. Eric decided to rent a couple rooms at a tavern.

"You never got around to telling me your name," Martin said.

"Oh, my name's Eric Snowmane," Eric replied. He ordered a large bottle of wine and took several big gulps, emptying it. Martin noticed something different about this Nord.

"You are much more different than I thought you were," Martin said."I've been told that your people are raging savages, and that they drink a lot and worship beasts."

"My parents didn't believe in the worshipping animals and picking fights and other things like that," Eric replied." They taught me to believe that the Nine are my guides and that hard work will make me prosperous."

"You should get some rest, we will need to be up early tomorrow," Eric said. Martin went up to his room. Eric stayed up well into the night, it was about three when he went to bed.

KNOCK! KNOCK!"Martin, it's time to go. Get your things together and meet me downstairs." Eric said. Martin was downstairs a few moments later. Eric handed him a piece of jerky."Here's your breakfast, it's not much but it's all I have in my pack."

Eric payed the tab and he and Martin left the dimly lit tavern. They went through the north gate and Eric looked up into the mountains. In the foggy distance, he saw a fortress.

"Martin, do you see that in the mountains?" Eric pointed at the fortress.

"Yes, is that Cloud Ruler Temple?" Martin asked.

"That's what I'm assuming," Eric answered. They walked up the path to the grand fort.

They arrived at the fort at noon. Eric saw a gargantuan door and he went to knock.

"Hello, I am Eric Snowmane!" Eric shouted." I have arrived with the last heir to the throne, Martin Septim!" The door opened and a man wearing the same armor that the old emperor's guards wore walked up to them.

"Is this really Martin Septim? Where's Grandmaster Jauffre?" the man asked.

"Yes it is. But your grandmaster was murdered by the assassins that killed Emperor Uriel," Eric said with a melancholy tone. The man looked at him as though he were crazy.

"Grandmaster Jauffre? Dead?" The man looked as if he were about to cry, but he quickly switched back to normal."Come! Follow me."

Eric and Martin followed the man up a steep set of steps. When they reached the top the man told them to wait there while he gathered the soldiers that dithered about. Soon the entire courtyard was full of the soldiers with the ornately decorated armor.

"Men! The man you see before you is our new emperor, Martin Septim!" the man shouted jubilantly, Eric still detected a hint of sadness in his voice."Let us give him a warm welcome!" Eric then realized that the man speaking was the captain.

"Hail, Martin Septim! Hail!" The soldiers shouted in unison. Then Martin began to speak.

"Thank you for the hospitality. I am new to this 'emperor' business. But I am not new to the dangers our cities face, I was at the siege of Kvatch. All of that death and destruction was an attempt to eliminate me. If it were not for my friend, Eric Snowmane, I would not be standing here. We must find the Amulet of Kings, so we... I can relight the Dragonfires. Once again, I thank you." And with the end of that moving speech, the soldiers dispersed and returned to their posts and normal duties.

"You truly are an emperor. I have never heard anyone speak so charismatically," Eric said.

"Thank you, Eric," Martin replied. The captain approached Eric.

"You have done a great deed, bringing Emperor Septim here," he said."Because of that, I would offer you a chance to join our order, the Blades."

Eric, flattered, answered thusly,"I accept, but one question. What are my duties as a Blade?"

"You must protect and serve the emperor in any way you can," the captain replied, very happy with Eric's choice.

"I swear by the Nine, that I will protect Emperor Martin Septim until my dying breath." Eric said with a loud boom.

PART VII

“Now that you have accepted my offer and swore the oath to protect the emperor, I will now give you your new blade. The armory is in the east wing of the temple, take the armor down there as well,” the captain said as he and Eric entered the temple. Eric and Steffan sat down at a table and began eating. Martin was outside, standing on the battlements of the beautiful temple, looking out onto the horizon.

“What are we going to do now?” Eric questioned, biting off a piece of steaming pork.

“Well, first off we have to get the Amulet back,” Steffan answered after taking a bottle of wine out of the cupboard.

“How, though?”

“I don’t know.” Eric and Steffan spoke with one another for several hours concerning the empire and other important political problems going on throughout the provinces.

The next day, Eric went to get his armor and Steffan was in the armory as well, polishing his armor.

“Good morning, Eric,” Captain Steffan said. “I need you to go to the Imperial City. It seems Baurus is doing some research on whom those assassins are.”

“Yes sir! Where is he located?” Eric inquired.

“Luther Broad’ Boarding House in the Elven Gardens District,” Steffan answered.

“I’ll be down there shortly, captain.” Eric left the temple after breakfast.

In the Imperial City, Eric went to the Elven Gardens District and entered the boarding house. He saw Baurus sitting at the bar. Eric sat down as well and ordered a small mug of beer.

“Don’t say anything to me,” Baurus whispered. “You see that man sitting behind me?” Eric looked over at the man in the chair, who appeared absolutely harmless. “I am going to get up and enter the cellar. When he gets up, follow him.” Baurus got up and made his way to the cellar. Then, the man went to the cellar door and Eric pretended to get up and leave. Eric turned around and followed him. The man was creeping up on Baurus and at that moment Eric pulled his blade out. The man stopped, frozen with fear, and turned his head towards Eric. He gave a little chuckle and Eric swung his blade. The man’s head rolled across the floor, leaving a pool of warm blood in its wake.

Baurus looked at Eric, “Thanks.” He said.

“We have the emperor, but we lost the Amulet.” Eric said. “And your grandmaster has gone to Aetherius.” It was dark and Eric couldn’t see the expression on Baurus’s face, but he could hear the gloominess in his voice.

“He was a good leader, he will be missed,” Baurus responded. “But the other news, that is great.”

“So far, the information I have gathered is that the assassins are part of a Daedric cult known as the Mythic Dusk. They worship, of course, the daedric lord Mehrunes Dagon. Check that man’s pack; he might have something we could use to further our investigation.” Eric leaned down and rummaged through the man’s satchel, he found a large book with a blue cover. The title of the book was Mankar Camoran’s Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes. He showed it to Baurus.

“Take that book to the Arcane University, speak with Tar-Meena, she’ll be able to explain what it is.” Baurus said. He left the cellar and Eric went to the Arcane University.

I'm getting a feeling for Eric here. He seems like the honourable warrior type. (Though with a serious disgust for everyone who even dares turn his back on a fight for a single second.) He doesn't hold back his thoughts or opinions on people, which is good. So all in all, I think that the character has plenty of potential.

If I had to give you some advice, I'd say you should look into pacing. The story goes a bit too fast for its own good if you ask me. If you stuck around in the scenes a bit longer, you could show a lot more of Eric. The rushing has diminished in the last few updates, so you are headed in the right direction, but things still go very fast.

PART VIII

“Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes, eh?” Tar-Meena asked as she opened the book and skimmed the pages. Eric stuck out like a sore thumb in the room full of blue robed mages fluttering about. They all looked at him as though he was monster. This angered him slightly that they would judge someone just because of their race, but he kept his composure.

“Can we take this outside in the courtyard, please?” Eric asked.

“Of course, I understand what you’re going through,” Tar-Meena whispered in Eric’s ear as they exited the Mystic Archives. “When I was just an apprentice, they looked at me as if they wanted to spear me in the chest.”

“The commentaries are a series of books and they have a code inside of them. I cannot tell you what the code is until you retrieve all four copies of it.” She pulled a book with the same blue cover and handed it to Eric. “Here is the second copy. Go to the First Edition in the Market District, Phintias is sure to have the third and fourth.” Eric took the book and left.

It was getting late and Eric decided to go to a local tavern. He was sitting at a table in a dark corner of the room and he overheard several men talking amongst one another. “… and what if that warrior that broke your leg finds out about this?” One of the men said as he took a swig of mead.

“I wouldn’t be worried; he probably didn’t make it out of…” He was cut off.

“You honoured user! I can’t believe you made it out of there alive!” It was Eric; he had his sword unsheathed, ready to swing at any of the men who decided to charge at him.

“H… how did you get out of there?” the man stuttered, he was sweating and all the men at the table had a look of absolute terror on their faces.

“It doesn’t matter. Tell your master that I’m coming for him and the Amulet so he better be prepared.” Eric put his blade back into its sheath and left the tavern; the men were still sitting there awestruck at what just happened.

Eric decided to lay his bedroll behind a thick row of bushes and sleep there for the night. He knew those men would make an attempt to kill him if he stayed at an inn.

He woke the next morning and went to the First Edition. He asked whether the third copy of the Commentaries was there and Phintias said that a wood elf had reserved the only copy he had.

“If you like you can wait here and speak to him when he arrives,” Phintias said. Then the wood elf walked in, wearing green silk robes and his hair in a pony-tail.

“I’m here to get my copy of the Commentaries,” he said. Phintias handed him the book and the wood elf thanked him.

“Excuse me, how much do you want for that book?” Eric inquired. The wood elf had the snobbiest expression on his face.

“I’m sorry, but this book is not for sale,” he answered with his nose turned upwards.

“How does two hundred gold sound?”

“Well that sounds wonderful!” the wood elf said, his snobby expression was gone in a flash. “But I need it so I can study its contents.”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Eric said. “The cult you are trying to join killed the emperor!”

“I… I don’t know what to say. They were the ones… oh my,” he said.

“Yeah, now give me the book,” Eric demanded. The wood elf handed him the book and a note.

“That note is from one of the sponsors of the cult, you can only get the last copy of the book from him.” He said.

“Thank you, now go!” the wood elf scurried out of there like he was being chased by a bear. Eric was on his way back to Luther Broad’s Boarding House.

PART IX

Eric was in the boarding house, sitting at the bar. He wondered whether the innkeeper at the tavern knew what had happened last night. Baurus had yet to arrive, Eric was sitting there brooding.

Then, Baurus walked in the boarding house. Eric put down his wine and looked up from the table.

“Baurus, I found some information. Here take a look at the note a wood elf gave me,” Eric handed him the note. When Baurus was done reading it, he had sly grin on his face.

“I know where the location is to the meeting place for the last book,” Baurus was beaming; Eric thought he was going mad.

“Follow me,” Baurus said. They went down into the Elven Gardens sewers, Eric got a whiff of the smell down there and he almost gagged. There were dead rats everywhere, decomposing and smelling horrible.

“You’ll get used to it,” Baurus said. They went west, then east, then north. Then finally, they were upon a large metal gate.

“Look, I’ll go through this gate. The stairs up there lead to the flood bridge above the room. If a fight breaks out, I want you to have my back,” Baurus said.

“Okay,” Eric replied. Baurus looked at him, and shook Eric’s hand.

“Eric, I want you to know that if anything happens and I end up dead, I want you to know that I am grateful to have worked with you.” Eric had always liked Baurus, as soon as he met him in the Imperial City Prison. Baurus went through the gate and Eric went up the stairs. Baurus sat down at the table in the room. A Dark Elf entered, he wore the same gray robes as the rest of those assassins.

“Hello, associate. You have done well in finding the first three books; we know it was quite costly. Now, you must find our sanctuary,” the man said, he pulled the last copy of the Commentaries out of his pouch, then he stopped, shoved book back in his pack, and said, “Wait, you’re the man one of our agents was sent to…” he was interrupted.

“NOW, ERIC!” Baurus yelled. Eric leapt off the flood bridge and lopped the Dunmer’s head off. Two men came rushing through the gate, wearing odd looking armor. Baurus joined in this fight.

A few moments later, the battle was over. Baurus was injured; he had a deep wound in his abdomen. Eric had to carry him to a healer. The healer worked for several hours, delicately moving his hands around in strange patterns. He liked this type of mage, one who actually helps someone. He brought Baurus back into the room, he was wincing in pain.

“I could only repair part of the wound. Keep bandages over it until it heals,” the healer said. After they left the healer’s house, Eric took Baurus behind the thick bushes he slept behind one night. Baurus was looking rather pale.

“You stay here, Baurus. I will return soon with some food and supplies for you,” Eric said. He had great respect for Baurus, and Baurus had great respect for Eric because he saved his life.

Eric went to the waterfront district and stood out on the coast. He watched the sunset and thought about his days in Skyrim, roaming about in the cold mountains. He pretended he was the chieftain of a settlement, but in all actuality, he was really just the chieftain of a snow fort. He laughed at how ignorant he was as a child, all he knew how to do was mine coal; not run a village.

Eric then made his way back to the Arcane University, a place he deemed the most hateful of all. Mages are judgmental and think of nothing else but themselves, he thought to himself.

PART X

Eric entered the door of the vast library in the university; from his knowledge, this room was called the Mystic Archives. Once again, the same wizards that strode about looked at Eric with disgust. He walked to the main desk of the library and saw Tar-Meena up to her neck in parchment; she didn’t even look up at him as he stood there.

“Tar-Meena, I have all four copies of the Commentaries,” Eric said. She glanced up and gave him a questioning look as to ask where the books were. Eric caught this glance and handed her the books.

“Well, I never thought to have seen all four copies of the Commentaries. Anyway, from what I’ve read, the code has something to do with the first words of each paragraph.” She said in that raspy Argonian voice. Eric asked her to see the first copy. He wrote the first word in each paragraph straight down on a piece of parchment, in this manner.

Greetings Reader Enter Every Night

Enter My Palace Endlessly Roaring Offering Red-Drink

Eric was confused; he didn’t understand what the words were saying. To him it was just a bunch of rubbish.

“Put the first letters of the words together and see what you get,” Tar-Meena said. Eric put the letters together: Green Emperor. Eric then understood.

He continued putting the letters together in the order they came and he got the secret message.

GREEN EMPEROR WAY WHERE TOWER TOUCHES MIDDAY SUN. Eric told Tar-Meena he would return for the books later; he took his parchment and set off for the Imperial City Palace.

When he arrived, Eric walked among the old, decrepit tombstones and he noticed a mausoleum with an odd carving on it; Eric knew the mausoleum would tell him where to find what he had been looking for. It wasn’t quite noon yet, so Eric decided to go back to where he left Baurus.

He got to the bedroll behind the thick, green bushes. Baurus was lying there, asleep. Eric woke him.

“W… what? Who’s there?” Baurus groggily asked, the color to his face had come back.

“It’s me, Eric,” Eric answered. He reached into his pack and pulled out some food. “Here, I bought you some fruit and a few bottles of ale.” Eric laid the food and alcohol next to the bedroll.

“Thanks, Eric,” Baurus tried to lean up just a little, but he couldn’t summon the strength to do so and he fell back to the ground. Eric propped his body against the wall.

“There you go,” Eric said. “What exactly are we looking for?”

“We are trying to find the sanctuary of the Mythic Dusk. The books you have should have some sort of code as to where you can find them,” He said. Eric nodded and said that he had already found the location of a carving on an old mausoleum. He said the books said something about the midday sun and it touching the tower.

“You should hurry and get down there. It is almost noon,” Baurus said. Eric left the hidden alcove and sprinted all the way to the mausoleum.

As soon as he arrived, the carving had a strange green glow. A large green ‘X’ appeared above Lake Canulus. Eric marked the location on his map and ran back to Baurus.

“Baurus! I have marked the location of the sanctuary on my map. Give me your hand; I’m going to take you to an inn.” Eric helped him up and carried him to the nearest inn. He told the innkeeper to give Baurus a room where no one could find him.

“Take this,” Eric handed Baurus a sack of gold; it had about a hundred coins in it. “This should allow you to stay here for at least a week and a half.”

Eric left the inn and continued on his way to Lake Canulus…

PART XI

Before Eric left the Imperial City, he stopped at the stables to purchase himself a horse. He bought a magnificent, white steed. He named it Caballus, after his grandfather. He mounted the horse and made his way towards the lake.

The trip was long and arduous, even with a grand stallion like Caballus. He had to traverse deep into the Valus Mountains. When he rode up to the cavern entrance, Eric could sense the evil brewing within that place.

He entered the cave, and came face to face with a man wearing those damned grey robes. Eric had to force himself not to run him through with his blade. The man’s breath was a stench you could not imagine. It smelled as though he drinks from a cesspit.

“Dusk has arrived, brother,” the man said.

“Welcome the new night,” Eric answered. The man opened the door into the next room and Eric stepped inside. There, he ran into another man, he was Dunmer. Eric began to wonder if all of the fanatics were elves. The man asked Eric to give all of his belongings to him. Eric removed all of his equipment and gave it to him.

“Good, now I want you to wear this,” the Dunmer man handed Eric a set of grey robes. He was bubbling with so much anger, that he snapped the man’s neck with a sickening crack. Eric dragged the body into the darkness, hoping no one had heard the sound of a neck being broken. He took back his equipment and put the robes on over his armor. He managed to infiltrate the shrine area and he saw someone wearing bright green robes. Eric walked a little further as to hear what he was saying.

“Brothers and Sisters, the time of cleansing draws nigh. I have the Amulet of Kings and the last heir to the Septim throne will not relight the Dragonfires as long as I draw breath,” he paused. The acolytes all chanted ‘All hail Lord Dagon, praise be’. Eric drew the conclusion that the speaker was Mankar Camoran, the Altmer leader of the cult. Eric was standing there, thinking of how the words spoke out of Mankar’s mouth were nothing but lies and deceit.

“We, as the children of Dagon, must open the gates of Oblivion and unleash the ultimate punishment for dethroning Mehrunes Dagon. I now go to Paradise; I may see you in the coming of the dusk.” Mankar turned around and placed a small stone on the floor. A portal shot from the ground and emitted a great wave of heat. He stepped through the portal and disappeared.

A woman sauntered over to Eric. “You must be the new acolyte.” She said. Eric shook his head and she asked him to pick up the ceremonial dagger on the altar. He picked up the dagger, its hilt was decorated with sapphires and a large diamond was embedded into the flat of the blade.

“Now, you must cut the throat of one of our enemies and offer red-drink to Dagon,” she said. Eric asked her what he was.

“He is a priest in the Temple of the One.” The woman said with satisfaction. This angered Eric; they had gone too far in their attempts to take over Tamriel.

The acolytes were standing there, waiting on Eric to murder an innocent man. He could stand it for no longer and he took the ceremonial blade and dug it into the woman’s skull. Her eyes had the look of absolute shock; her body hit the ground with a deep thud. It took a moment for the event to register in the minds of the acolytes. They ran, screaming in fright, for they knew they had met the most talked about man in the sanctuary. Eric ripped the robes from his body and threw the tattered remains to the floor. He tore the chains off of the Argonian they prepared for the sacrifice and lifted him up onto his shoulders.

Then Eric saw a thick, black book lying on the altar. It had strange runes on it; Eric picked it up and threw it into his pack. Eric made his way through the sanctuary with his blade drawn, cutting down any who had the courage to come at him.

Eric bolted out of the door and propped the Argonian on the back of Caballus. Eric hopped onto the horse and made his way west, towards the Imperial City.

Eric arrived at about noon. He took the Argonian to the inn where Baurus was.

Baurus was eating his lunch, “Who the hell is that?” He had taken the bandages off.

“It’s a priest the Mythic Dusk wanted me to sacrifice to Mehrunes,” Eric answered. Eric laid him on the bed. Eric told Baurus to go with him to Cloud Ruler Temple. He also told Baurus to leave the bag of gold on the end table for the Argonian to use when he woke up.

They then made their way to Cloud Ruler Temple…

PART XII

Eric and Baurus arrived at Cloud Ruler Temple at midnight. All was normal; the Blades were changing shifts when they rode up the steps. Eric and Baurus entered the great hall; Eric saw Martin and strode over to him. Eric showed him the book he found on the altar.

“By the Nine! Such a thing is dangerous to handle! You are lucky you were not affected by the evil power it possesses. Forgive me; it’s just that I’m shocked. I never thought I’d see this book,” Martin said. He looked a little frightened by the fact that Eric held the book in his possession for so long. Eric apologized and asked what the book was since he did not have time to look through its contents at the time he picked it up.

“This book is the Mysterium Xarxes,” Martin replied. Eric laughed awkwardly at this; he actually carried the book that started this madness. Martin further explained to him that Mankar must have bound himself to the book in order to create his paradise. Martin went to bed and Eric went to bed as well.

Eric woke up early that morning and went outside to breathe in the cold mountain air. Something like that would always settle his nerves during a hard point in his life. Eric saw Steffan and Baurus talking near the watch tower; Eric could overhear them.

“… I know, sir. He saved my life. If he hadn’t been there, I would have never made it out of there alive and we would’ve never found the sanctuary and that book! You should at least move him up in rank,” Baurus said; he sounded rather perturbed.

“Okay! Okay! Due to his accomplishments and bravery, I will move him up one rank. I shall speak to him further on this matter,” Steffan shot back. Eric got the feeling that he and Baurus did not get along that well. But Eric did not let the rank advancement go to his head; all he wanted to do is protect the empire and the people inside it. Steffan paced over to Eric and told him that he had been moved up to the rank of ‘Blade Lieutenant’; just one below Steffan.

After breakfast, Eric went back into the great hall and found Martin at his usual table full of alchemical equipment and books. Martin was studying the Xarxes; he did not attempt to look up from his work. Eric approached him and asked if there was anything he could do.

“Nothing right, now, Eric. I am still trying to decipher the Mysterium Xarxes. So far, I have come up with nothing,” Martin answered. Eric glanced over onto the pages of the book and he saw the same strange runes that were on the cover of the book. No wonder he couldn’t decipher it.

“But I think that Steffan said something about spies somewhere close to here. You should go speak to him.” Eric left the room and went to the battlements where Steffan could always be found. He told Eric that a little to the south of here there were reports of people roaming around the base of the mountain and he wanted Eric to check it out.

Eric put on civilian clothes so he wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention to himself. He was halfway down the slope when he saw two women roaming about a large circle of stones. They hadn’t spotted him until he was just feet away from one of them. They both pulled a scroll out of their packs and read it aloud. A red haze hung around them and when they emerged from the cloud of smoke, they were wearing the same armor the men in the sewers had on.

The women were very tough; they blocked, dodged, and parried every thrust or slash of Eric’s blade. He killed the first woman, but the other one was still coming at him. He finally parried the woman’s attack and he was about to thrust his blade into her torso, when she threw a cloud of dust into his face. Eric pulled the dagger from his boot and threw it in her direction. It hit her in the throat and blood poured from her wound. He fell down and watched his vision fade away.

He had a dream that he was back in his native Skyrim, standing on the highest peak in the province, breathing in the fresh air. But down below him, he saw fire and cities being overrun by daedra and their mortal companions. He jumped from the peak and swung his sword in an attempt to save his village, but he couldn’t. He watched as his clansmen were slaughtered before his very eyes. He blinked and everything went black…

PART XIII

Eric awoke from his dream; the sun was rising and he realized that he had been there all night, lying in the snow. He was very glad of his Nordic roots, how they allowed him to withstand even the coldest of temperatures. He stumbled up from the frozen ground and checked the area around him.

He found one of the women and the other was near the walls of Bruma. He knew that woman wouldn’t have made it into the city. He checked her body and found a key; he also found a note. Its contents were as follows:

Hello Jaedal,

You have done well in giving us the information we need. I shall see to it that you are rewarded properly. Now that we know the location of the place that Martin Septim calls home, we can launch an attack on them and kill the emperor like the rat he is!

Also, you should be wary of the Nordic warrior that is said to be in cohorts Martin himself. He is not someone to be trifled with; I witnessed the slaughter of our brethren in our holy sanctuary. I was glad he had not seen me in the shadows, for I would not have written this letter.

Dusk is coming.

Ruma Camoran

Eric was shocked to have seen this; he immediately climbed back up the slope to the temple. Eric darted up the steps and showed the note to Steffan. He walked up to one of the Blades and told him to shut the gates.

“Now, we must get our defenses up and find a way to retrieve the Amulet of Kings back. We will not allow exit or entry of the temple for at least a couple of weeks,” Steffan said. The man closed the gates and moved a great steel bar in the lock holders. Eric went inside went to speak to Martin. He asked him how his progress was on the Xarxes.

“I have deciphered the first part of the ritual. It said something about the blood of the Daedra. I need a Daedric artifact; one of great power,” Martin answered. Eric knew just the place to go; He would go to the Daedric lord, Sanguine. He told Martin that he could not leave the premises until the attack scare had subsided.

“I hope we do not have to wait too long,” Martin said. And with that, Martin got up from his usual table and went to his private quarters with Baurus in tow.

Eric went about his duties for a few days and the attack scare had been deemed gone. Eric left the temple and went on his way to the shrine of Sanguine. It was somewhat southwest of Chorrol.

He arrived at the shrine at eight o’ clock. He stepped up to the shrine and asked for his favor. Sanguine spoke to him and said that he wanted to see you down his strongest brew of beer. Eric accepted the challenge.

Suddenly a large flagon of beer appeared on the table in a puff of smoke. Eric grabbed the mug and put it to his lips. Sanguine’s followers were chanting something in an odd language. Eric had the feeling they were cheering him on; he downed the flagon of beer in one fell swoop. He began to feel very woozy; he heard Sanguine laughing in his head.

Eric sat down and vomited; a few hours later, his head began to clear and Sanguine came back to his head.

“Congratulations, my friend! You have proven yourself quite worthy! I shall now grant you my most famous possession.” In a matter of seconds a beautifully crafted staff appeared in front of the statue of Sanguine. “Sanguine Rose!” Eric thanked the Daedric lord and left the small clearing.

He then made his way back to the temple with the staff in hand…

PART XIV

Eric was riding through the wilderness, thinking of all the things that have happened in the past few weeks; from him escaping the Imperial Prison to closing an Oblivion gate. He thought of how his mother and father would feel for their only son. He knew they would have been proud of him.

Eric rode on the back of Caballus up the steps of Cloud Ruler Temple. He saw Steffan and Martin standing at the top. Martin glanced down at the staff Eric held in his hand and looked back up at him.

“Here you go, Martin,” Eric said with pride. Martin took the staff and asked what it was.

“It is a Daedric artifact by the name of Sanguine Rose,” He answered back. Martin’s eyes got big as he stared at it. His facial expression seemed to say that he thought he’d never have seen the staff again. Martin thanked him and returned to his table in the great hall. Eric sat down as well and Martin began to speak again. “I once held this staff in my possession; I’d have never thought to see it again. It’s a shame that this will be destroyed in the ritual.”

Eric went outside to tend to Caballus and he overheard Steffan and Baurus arguing yet again. Eric wondered why Baurus and Steffan could not get along with one another.

“Don’t you think you should let the other men guard Martin?” Steffan asked.

“No, sir. I let Uriel die and I’m not letting the same thing happen to Martin!” Baurus shot back. The argument was getting heated, they were getting louder and louder until Cyrus and Baragon had to keep them from killing each other. Baurus walked off towards Bruma. Steffan tightened his sword belt and went into the great hall.

Eric went out to the battlements and looked up into the mountains. He knew Baurus would not be back again today. He noticed such a downfall in Baurus’ behavior ever since he told him about Jauffre’s passing away to Aetherius. If Jauffre were here, he could have kept him in line. Then again, Steffan doesn’t have that great of a behavior either.

These men are great at what they do. It’s just that under extreme pressure, the stress gets to them and they crack. That’s what caused the whole problem with Steffan and Baurus. Yes, that’s got to be reason for it. Eric thought to himself.

Eric decided he would go into the mountains and sit in the peaceful quietness they offered him. He rode up a craggy mountain path and he found a hot spring; he knew this would be his place of thinking from then on, where no one could bother him. The hot spring was surrounded by a mountain wall. He placed his armor on the ground and stepped into the spring. He immediately felt relaxed. After what felt like hours, Eric put his armor back on and headed back to the Temple.

Every few days, Eric would return to the hot spring with wood and he would make tables and chairs. He eventually had a great little hideaway from the world, where he could forget all his worries and read books or write his own literature; which was very odd for a Nord. If something happened to where the temple was not considered a safe place for the emperor to stay, Eric would bring Martin here to resume his studying of the Mysterium Xarxes.

Eric was sitting in the great hall, when Martin walked up to him. He told him of his deciphering of the second part of the Xarxes. Martin told Eric about needing the blood of a divine and that since the Divines do not manifest themselves on Nirn, they would not be able to finish the ritual.

“Unless… Now I remember! Tiber Septim became a divine after his death; his armor is in an old city named Sancre Tor, a pilgrimage site for Blades. I found this key in Jauffre’s quarters,” Martin said. Eric took the key and asked him where it was. Martin told him that it was far west from the temple. Eric bode Martin farewell and said he would return in a few days.

Eric mounted himself on the back of Caballus and made his way towards the old city of Sancre Tor…

PART XV

Eric rode upon the great city of Sancre Tor, nothing but ruined watchtowers and crumbling walls. He dismounted from Caballus and walked along the path to the main part of the city. Old, creaking skeletons bounded from the shadows and attacked Eric with ancient claymores. Eric had just enough time to dodge the rust caked blades and block himself from another flurry of blows. They hissed at him with ferocity. He grabbed one of the skeletons and tore the aged skull from its shoulders; it collapsed to the ground and the bones clattered against the cold stone. The other carcass flung itself in Eric’s direction; Eric threw a hard left hook at the skeleton. Its head flew off and smacked the old wall, breaking into many pieces.

He continued down the stone path until he reached a rickety gate. He opened the gate and entered the darkness that awaited him.

Eric pulled a torch from the wall and lit it. He paced throughout the ruin in search of the armor of Tiber Septim. He then came upon an ancient carcass wearing a Blades helmet. It twisted around and shook its skeletal hand at him. Eric knew he was up for a fight.

The skeleton raced towards Eric with his sword flying through the thick, dirty air. Eric unsheathed his blade and swung with all his might. He managed to cut the leg from the skeleton, thus crippling it. But the ancient warrior was persistent and crawled towards Eric. He lifted his boot and crushed the skull into dust. Eric saw a spirit appear before the decrepit remains of the Blade.

“You have freed me from my eternal unrest. For that I thank you,” the spirit wailed. “But you must release my brothers from their punishment as well. You will find their bodies roaming throughout these halls. Now I must leave you and finish the duty I swore to uphold.” The ghost faded away.

Eric strode about the old fort. For the next few hours, he searched for and released the souls of the fallen members of the Blades. Eric felt an icy chill run down his spine; he turned to see a monstrous undead creature staring him in the eye. The creature pulled a warhammer the size of a full grown man from its back. It swung the massive piece of steel at Eric’s head. He ducked at the right moment and the warhammer struck the wall, sending debris flying into the air. Eric turned and sprinted from the clawed monster; he made it to the end of the hall and spun around to face the creature only to find it was no longer there. He heard a roar behind him and Eric dove between the creature’s legs. He quickly hoisted himself upon the back of the fiend; the bulging creature twisted about in hopes to throw Eric from his body. Eric pulled his blade from its sheath and slashed at the monster’s head. He felt cold, undead blood trickle down his fingers and realized that the creature was becoming fatigued. Eric continued to hack and thrust his blade into the rotting corpse. The creature screeched and fell to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eric dashed out of the hall and searched room after room until he found the spirits of the fallen Blades kneeled before a pedestal. The beautifully crafted plinth held the armor of Tiber Septim himself. Eric kneeled before the pedestal and prayed to Talos. He then stood and reached to grab the cuirass. He placed the weighty armor in his pack and left the old battered city of Sancre Tor.

Eric rode up to an inn in the center of a clearing in the forest. He entered the dark smoky tavern and ordered a steaming bowl of venison potato stew. He sat at the table closest to the door. He overheard two men at the table behind him.

“Is that the man the master was talking about?” One of them asked with a whisper.

“I don’t know, Martol. Let’s tempt him,” the other answered. Eric heard the faintest sound of a blade being unsheathed. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready for an attack from behind. The table was tilted over and a throwing knife flew past his right ear. Eric jumped from the table and countered a blow from a short sword. The assassin was thrown to the ground and his head hit a step; the man’s skull made a sickening crack. Martol stood there in awe at what had just occurred; Eric darted towards him and thrusted his blade into Martol’s temple. Eric moved the bodies by the door and set the tables and chairs back to their upright positions. Before he left, Eric placed ten gold coins on the bar, five for the stew and another five for the mess. He thanked the traumatized innkeeper and left the tavern.

Eric mounted Caballus and rode north to Cloud Ruler Temple…

PART XVI

Eric rode up the temple steps and dismounted from his horse. He went inside the great hall. Martin looked up from his work and gave him a nod and a smile. Eric sauntered over to the table and held Tiber Septim’s armor in front of Martin. His jaw dropped.

“I may have the blood of the Septims, but you have the soul of a hero, my dear friend,” he said. Baurus was back and doing his usual duty, guarding Martin. Steffan burst through the doors of the great hall. He was shouting.

“Martin! Martin! There are Daedra outside the walls! We shut the gate before they could enter. It’s mostly Dremora down there.” Baurus yanked his katana out of its sheath; Martin grabbed the Mysterium Xarxes and shoved it in the folds of his robes. Eric ran outside; the gate was being rammed again and again. Eric knew the gate wouldn’t last long, so he yelled for all of the Blades. He told them to arrange in lines along the steps and be ready to push back the opposing forces.

Just then, the gate fell to the ground and the Blades rushed their opponents. The battle raged on for hours; the Dremora had pushed the Blades back into the courtyard and the stone became soaked with blood. The leader of the attack had Steffan dangling off the battlements by his neck; he was laughing maniacally. Eric charged at him with his sword drawn. He shoved the blade deep into the Dremora’s back; Steffan was let go and he grabbed the battlements. Eric didn’t have enough time to hoist Steffan back up and he slipped, falling to the craggy mountain side. He landed on a protruding, sharp rock and it impaled him. He did not move or twitch at all.

Eric went into complete and total rage and swung his sword. It decapitated several of the Dremora, they all fell to the blood soaked earth of the garden. He alone killed half of the Dremora and the Blades butchered the rest. Eric ran inside the great hall and saw Martin in a corner surrounded by ten Blades. Eric tore a piece of cloth from a tunic on a table and wiped the blood from his sword.

He informed the men that Steffan had perished during the fight. They sheathed their weapons and kneeled to pray for him. After they were done, the men said they were glad to have served under Steffan and that they would like to give him the position of their captain. Eric accepted.

“I would accept this honor, my friends,” Eric said sadly. He had always liked Steffan; now he was dead. They decided to retrieve Steffan’s body from the mountain and give him a burial ceremony. Over the next couple of hours, the Blades had dumped the bodies of the Dremora over the battlements and cleaned the blood from the immaculate stonework.

Eric told them he needed a small contingent of guards, along with Baurus, to accompany him and Martin to Eric’s safe haven. They formed up around Martin and went up the steep mountain path.

They reached the large alcove in the mountain just before dawn broke. The men made a makeshift gate, to cover the huge opening they entered in, with all the spare wood Eric had there.

Martin sat at a table and began to decipher the Xarxes. He was shaking badly; it was because everyone around him was dying, from the Kvatch townspeople to Steffan. It was all so nerve-racking. Eric asked Martin how far he had deciphered the Xarxes.

“I have figured out another component needed to access Mankar Camoran’s Paradise,” he said, still quivering. “We need a great Welkynd stone, Eric. They have been plundered one by one over the years, due to their great value to mages and occultists. There is only one more place rumored to still have one. It is the Ayleid ruin of Miscarcand. It is located in between the cities of Kvatch and Skingrad, somewhere in the wilderness.”

Eric said he would return shortly and hopped on Caballus. He then rode to Miscarcand…

PART XVII

Eric dismounted from his horse and walked down the path to the Ayleid ruin of Miscarcand. It was a large surface ruin and it was absolutely amazing. Eric could hear snarls and grunts of goblins in the distance. He knew the ruin had to be infested with them.

He attempted to sneak around to Miscarcand’s door, but he failed. One of the goblins saw him near a knotted tree root and shrieked for reinforcements. In a matter of seconds, ten goblins were upon him. He blocked and dodged for several minutes; the goblins continued their intense attack on Eric.

Eric whistled a tune through the fighting and Caballus rode up, rearing back and killing a few of the goblins. They all turned their backs on him and Eric took his chance and swung his katana at them. One fell to the ground; and another and another until the war chief of the goblins was left standing. He wore a horned helmet and iron plate armor and carried a steel broadsword. Caballus was bleeding and Eric was battling with the war chief. He enjoyed himself with this fight, even though the constant threat of dying was in his mind. The war chief was battle hardened and old. All the power that the goblin was putting into his strikes was beginning to tire him, and Eric, being young, could hold him back. The goblin stepped back to catch his breath and Eric swept his leg across the ground, tripping the battered old war chief. Eric rolled forward, launched himself into the air, and stomped the war chief’s body. The goblin gave one last puff of air and died. Eric tore a piece of cloth from his undershirt and dabbed Caballus’ wounds.

Inside the dark ruin, Eric pulled an old torch from his pack and lit it. He soon would wish he hadn’t, because what he saw was absolutely horrifying. Desiccated corpses of travelers and adventurers alike, were hanging from the ancient ceiling by their ankles with their hands tied behind their backs. One’s entrails were hanging from its rotting belly; another’s head was hanging by a small piece of flesh on its neck. This sight and smell were absolutely revolting; Eric had to hold his breath through the room.

Deeper and deeper into the ruin he went, creeping past goblins along the way. He soon came upon a door that had the old Ayleid language etched into it. The carving said ‘Morimath’. He slid the heavy stone slab of a door to the right and entered the darkest of all the rooms he had been in.

As soon as he walked in, his torch went out by a heavy draft. He attempted to relight it, but no success came to him; it was just too damp in there. He continued to feel his way down the pitch black hallway in search of the Great Welkynd Stone. He took a left and then a right. He never liked the dark, because he never knew what could be there and he wouldn’t be able to protect himself.

There was a dim light in the distance, several paces away. He snuck towards it. In the next room, he saw a beautifully crafted stone, floating above a plinth. He carefully moved along the Ayleid stone floor, to the item that floated before him. The room was bleached in light from the Welkynd stone; Eric glanced around, making sure there were no traps he could set off by picking the stone from its floating position.

He grabbed it and behind him, the wall opened up, revealing a flying body. It appeared to be a king of some sort; then, Eric realized that the body floating towards him was a lich, a powerful undead creature with a repertoire of magic beyond that of the greatest wizard. It pulled its staff from its back and pointed it at Eric. His heart was racing; he had never faced anything so powerful. He readied himself for a fight. The staff shot a bolt of lightning and Eric rolled away from the plinth. The bolt hit a metal grate behind him and exploded. Eric had to think quick on his feet, something he thought he was pretty good at. He charged at the lich, but with a wave of its hand, threw Eric into the wall. Eric jumped up with his blade held high and he swung with all of his strength. The lich hissed and shot backward, throwing itself into the wall. Eric chuckled at the stupidity of something so intelligent. The staff and the lich fell to the ground and Eric ran the lich through with his blade.

Eric, satisfied at yet another victory against a great foe, snuck back through the cold, damp ruin and into the warm night.

He jumped onto the back of his great and noble steed, Caballus, and rode off into the night on his way to his mountain hideaway…

PART XVIII

Eric ran across an injured man along the gold road; he had on the finest fabrics only the best clothier could make. He clearly came from a family of great wealth. His leg was gashed and he was missing a finger. Eric thought the man obviously could not have defended himself. He picked him up and plainly asked what happened.

“I hired some men to protect me on the way to the Imperial City, but it turned out they were bandits or something,” the man said through coughs. Eric asked him what they were wearing and the man told him grey robes, but when they attacked him, strange armor and weapons appeared on their bodies. Eric had such a hatred for those damned men; he wanted to eradicate them all.

“They went south of here,” the man stuttered. The place where the man’s ring finger should have been was dripping blood along with the gash on his thigh. Eric handed the man some healing potions and told him to hide. As Eric walked away, the man poured the potion on his wounds and cackled. Eric spun around; the man’s hand was pointed at him. Eric cursed at himself. A spear of ice flew towards him; Eric pulled his sword from his belt and deflected the icy dart. It shattered into thousands of pieces before Eric. He wondered how the assassins had planned this attack.

Eric dodged and deflected everything the man was throwing at him as Eric moved towards him. The man summoned a sword from the depths of Oblivion itself and swung it at Eric. He wondered whether the rest of the assassins were waiting to lurch from the shadows and engulf upon Eric a volley of blows; Eric shook the thought from his head and continued on the fight against the lying honoured user in front of him.

“Hahaha! You are not as tough as my fellow comrades said you were!” He taunted happily. Eric wanted to wipe that dirty, smug look off of his face with a nice slice to the throat. The man lunged forward and cut Eric’s side through a tiny space in his armor. Eric countered the man’s next attack and threw his fist into his stomach. The man dropped the sword and fell to the cold, compacted dirt. Not moments after, the bound blade disappeared in a green cloud. The man was coughing up blood; Eric did not know his own strength it seemed.

“Damn, you! I… am the best… swordsman… alive! You… of all people… should not have… b… been able to… defeat me!” He uttered through coughs; a pool of blood was on the ground. Eric swung his sword in a perfect arc and the man’s head went rolling across the soil. He heard footsteps moving away into the forest, they got quieter and quieter until all was silent.

Eric grabbed Caballus’ reins and proceeded to the mountain hideaway.

Eric thought of what had occurred a little while ago. The man had an odd drive about him; usually, a man from the Mythic Dusk would run in terror from him or die trying. While he did do the latter, he did not do the former. This troubled Eric greatly; he believed that Mankar had a talk with that man before setting him off on his journey.

At the makeshift door, Eric spotted Baragon and Cyrus on their guarding duties. He entered and found Martin standing at the table. He was wearing the most ornately made armor he had ever seen. He was talking to Baurus in a hushed voice.
“Sir, you should not do this! It will likely lead to your death, excuse my tongue,” Baurus said. He had a worried look on his face. Martin was not fazed by what he had told him. He answered him calmly.

“But you, Baurus, do not understand. I am supposedly the emperor and it is well time I should start acting as one. This is the perfect time to show the people who is here to protect them in times of need. I can do that.”

“Yes, sir. Eric is here; let’s see what he thinks of your plan.” Eric walked up to him. Baurus was shaking his head.

“Eric, I have deciphered the last part of the Mysterium Xarxes. I should have seen this earlier. We need a Great Sigil stone, the counterpart to the Great Welkynd stone, and the only place we can get one is from a great gate itself. I have sent word of this to all of the cities; they agreed to send aid to Bruma. You will go in and take the Sigil stone. I will lead the attack on the gate,” Martin said. Eric knew this would be the last time he would see Martin if he led the attack.

“No, sire, I will lead the attack,” He said, but Martin would not hear of it any further.

"Go speak with Countess Carvain of Bruma and ask her when she will be willing to launch an attack on the gate." Martin said. He pulled his gauntlets on and put his helmet on his head.

“Oh, Martin, before I go, take this,” Eric handed him the Welkynd stone and left the mountain alcove. He got on Caballus and galloped to Bruma…

PART XIX

At the castle, Eric stepped up to the countess. She was sitting in her throne with five guards surrounding her.

“Countess Narina, I have come from the orders of Martin Septim, soon-to-be emperor,” Eric said. She looked up from her book to listen to him. “He would like to know when you will be ready to launch the attack on the great gate. If you wish to speak to him personally, he will be in the chapel. I know we will win this battle with the leadership of Martin.” Eric couldn’t help but feel like he was lying to her. She nodded and stood from her throne and walked out of the castle. Eric was right behind her.

In the chapel, Narina was speaking with Martin. Eric couldn’t make it out but it sounded important; then again, everything was important at that time. Then, Martin called Eric over.

“Eric, whenever you are ready, we will be as well,” Martin said with a sad smile. Eric turned to Narina, who was nodding her head in agreement. She bowed her head in a silent prayer and looked up at Eric.

“You are the only one who speaks of victory, Eric,” she said. Her smile brought a small amount happiness to him. He wanted to stop the Oblivion Crisis for her and the rest of Tamriel. “I have heard a great many things about you. You are a warrior… a hero to all.”

Eric thanked her for the kind words and told Martin he was ready to launch the attack. They all exited the chapel and made their way towards the gate of Bruma. Everyone was cheering for Martin. Baurus and a few of the other Blades were behind him, their faces were of pure gloom.

They were walking down the snow covered road, everything was so peaceful. Nature had not yet caught up with the battle about to precede Eric and his fellow companions. He prayed to Kynareth, goddess of air, thanking her for the wonderful bounty of nature which was about to be ripped from its life.

There were thousands of men lined up at the first minor gate, ready for anything that came from it. Martin squeezed past all of them and stood in front of the enormous amount of soldiers before him.

“Men! Today, I stand before you hoping to eliminate the Daedra wishing to rule over us and make us their servants! Not now, not ever. Will we let them kill our families? Will we let them raze our cities to the ground? I want you all to fight your hardest today! This will be the most perilous battle ever fought on Tamrielic soil. You men are the last hope for the cities of Cyrodiil. Do not let them get to the walls of Bruma! May the Nine be with us all,” Martin said. His speech moved the entire group of men. Eric sensed a great aura coming from them.

Then, the gate made a sound; several hundred Dremora burst through the portal and the battle begun.

Swords collided and flesh was torn; arrows whizzed past heads and pierced hearts. Armor clanged as swords and shields alike pounded into one another. Eric was fighting along side Martin, the Blades kept anything from laying a finger on him. Eric saw a large man wearing the strange armor of the Mythic Dusk and carrying a bound Daedric war hammer. Eric charged at the giant of a man. He pulled his war hammer back and slammed it upon the blackened ground, throwing Eric down. He jumped back to his feet and rolled from the next swing of the great hammer. Black dust flew into the air and clouded Eric’s vision, giving the man enough time swing at him. Eric felt the wind come off of the first attack and ducked. The dust had faded into the red sky and Eric could see again. He ran towards the man; he threw his arm into Eric and he soared ten feet into the air, landing on the charred remains twenty feet away. He stumbled to his feet once more; the man had thrown the war hammer to the ground and summoned a claymore, which he held in one hand. The blade arced through the air and Eric pulled his shield above his head. The power of the blow almost made Eric’s knees buckle; he leaned forward hard and the man backed up. With his sword drawn, Eric slashed at the man’s body. He shouted in pain and swung his claymore at Eric. The two blades collided; the strain on Eric’s arms was great. The man was laughing. Eric thought they laughed quite a bit. The man pulled his sword back for another blow and Eric thrusted his katana into the man’s sword arm. He dropped the heavy claymore and it hit the ground with a loud clang. He groped his gashed arm and cursed at Eric.

“Damn you, Champion! Dagon will have his fun with you! This I swear,” he ran back into the portal of hell.

The great gate had opened and Eric rushed through the crowds of men, knocking Dremora to the ground in the process. He threw his trusty dagger into the throat of one of the assassins and dove into the gate.

Inside, Eric saw something that looked like an enormous walking castle. It was slowly crawling towards the threshold of the gate; it was throwing flames in every direction. Eric knew he would have to work fast…

PART XX

Eric sped to the right and busted through a tower door. It was dark inside, but he decided not to light his torch. You would think the realm of Dagon to be very hot, but that was not the case; Eric was cold because of the fear of dying and that giant castle crawling its way to the outside world. If he did not hurry, the entire continent of Tamriel or planet of Nirn would become a charred battleground of destruction for the rest of eternity.

Eric told himself that he didn’t have enough time to fight, so he hid every time a Dremora came clunking down the hallway. They are the dumbest creatures I’ve ever met, Eric thought to himself. But as time passed, Eric realized he was wasting precious time trying to remain hidden from the vile men rushing past in a frenzy with their swords drawn.

He ran up the tower and threw several large Dremora to the surprisingly cool floor. They jumped from their backs and pursued Eric deeper into the monstrous tower. His heart was racing, both from running and the fear of the Dremora catching up to him.

He felt as though he had been running for ages, until he reached the top of the Sigil tower. He strained his arms to open the doors into the final room to the Sigil Stone, hoping he would get it pried open before the Daedric soldiers caught up with him. He heard them clunk past in the hall behind him. He gave a great sigh of relief, glad he would not die today. The door was reluctant to open, but Eric managed to squeeze through the door and reach the Great Sigil Stone.

He grabbed the stone and he felt a wind behind him. He spun around on his heels to see one of the very large Dremora glaring into his eyes. Eric chuckled and ran from the platform as the tower made a screeching noise. The Dremora was yelling, he was stuck in place by some invisible force. Eric figured he was stuck like that was because the Dremora’s world was crumbling down around him.

Outside, the giant castle was slowing to a stop. The many towers around him were falling into the hot magma and dust was flung into the air, making Eric choke. He pushed himself through the sulfuric air and dove through the portal. The blackened stones of the portal’s doorframe fell from the air and hit the ground.

The soldiers were still fighting off the remaining Dremora; Eric decided to help. He slaughtered a few of the Dremora and the cities’ soldiers finished the job.

Eric saw Baurus lying on the ground with twenty arrows piercing his body; one hit him right between the eyes. Eric fell to his knees and tears rolled down his cheeks. So far, all of Eric’s friends were dead, except for Martin, who was standing there. Tears were pouring from his face as well.

“Dammit, Baurus! Why did you have to die on me? You have been a loyal friend and I will continue this fight for you. You may have had altercations with the other guards, but you respected me. And that is more than enough,” Eric sobbed at the now lifeless body of Baurus. He had never cried over anyone before, but this was different; this side of him had just recently came out. He felt like Martin, who had witnessed thousands of deaths, including his friends. Martin knelt and said a prayer over Baurus.

“He was a great soldier and a wonderful companion, Eric. May he forever rest in peace,” Martin said sadly. He pulled his helmet from his head and put it under his arm. The rest of the Blades bowed their heads in silent prayer. Eric stood and wiped the tears from his face. The soldiers were staring at him. “What?! Have you ever seen a battle hardened Nord cry before? Quit staring at me or I’ll rip your damn limbs off,” he shouted. “I’m sorry, you all. You can return back to your cities, now.”

He and Martin rode their horses back to the secret mountain alcove to further discuss their plans on eliminating Mankar Camoran, the honoured user who caused all of this.

“Here is your stone, Martin,” Eric said. The tears that were released back on the battlefield had been building up since the death of Jauffre; he felt better to have done what he did.

“Thank you. I now have all the components to open the portal to Camoran’s Paradise. When you are ready, I shall proceed with the ritual.” Eric nodded and Martin drew a large triangle upon the floor of the alcove. He then waved his hands and the essences of the Daedric artifact, Talos’ armor, the Great Welkynd Stone, and the Great Sigil Stone combined forming a beautiful sphere of red and white. It touched the ground and a fiery portal opened.

“You must enter it now! We have only one chance at this!” Martin shouted over the whining of the portal. Eric stepped through the doorway into Camoran’s Paradise.

Eric was standing inside Mankar Camoran’s Paradise.I think it’s time to pay this honoured user a visit, Eric thought to himself. And he walked down the cobble stone path…

PART XXI

The stone path that Eric was walking down was intricately carved with Daedric runes and so were the arches he strode through. Eric looked around and saw the surprisingly peaceful men and women from the Mythic Dusk. The natural beauty of the Paradise was beyond anything he had ever seen; it relaxed him in a way. But he quickly snapped back to reality.

Eric came upon a giant statue, over seventy feet high, of Mehrunes Dagon. He had four arms, a great battle axe rested in one and three claws protruding from another. Eric turned away from the sculpture before Mehrunes’ corrupting ways entered his soul.

He was ten yards away from a cove with the markings of the Daedra on it, when a Dremora sauntered over in his direction. Eric’s hand shot to the hilt of his katana, heart racing.

“You are the one my brothers spoke of. They said you were the one that destroyed our gate of doom at Ganonah,” he said. Eric eased his hand off of the hilt and put his arm down by his side. He was still a bit tense. “My name is Kathutet and you would think that speaking to our most hated enemy would bring me punishment. But no, it would bring me great honor if you performed a service. If you complete this task, I will give you the Bands of the Chosen, which will get you into the Forbidden Grotto; that door behind me. If you refuse, I will kill you.”

Eric thought about the proposition and said, “No, I won’t do a service for a foe. I choose to fight.” Kathutet merely laughed and shook his head.

“You will regret that mortal.” He pulled the Daedric long sword from its sheath and rushed over to Eric. He had just enough time to pull the katana from his belt.

Kathutet’s sword whistled past Eric’s head as he jumped to the left. Eric spun and hit Kathutet with the flat of his blade. Their blades collided, Eric leaned forward; Kathutet was about to lose his footing but he twisted out from under Eric’s sword. Eric shot his shield in front of him as another attack hit him. Kathutet kicked dirt into the air; Eric closed his eyes to keep himself from being blinded by such a dirty move. Eric flailed his blade around in an attempt to hit Kathutet. But Kathutet was behind him; he knocked him to the ground. Eric rolled over on his back. “I believe it’s time for you to die. Also, I think you should know that I slaughtered your friend, the Redguard,” he said. Eric’s blood boiled; he rolled from the ground and thrusted his sword into the leg of Kathutet. He shouted in agony and fell to the ground. He pulled his blade from his leg and put the sword on the Dremora’s neck; he gave it a great pull. Blood spurted from the wound. Eric stood and wiped a tear from his face. He had a small amount of happiness knowing that he had avenged his friend’s death.

Eric took the Bands of the Chosen from Kathutet’s bleeding body and put them on. He felt them lock into place and a feeling washed over him. He entered the Forbidden Grotto.

Inside, the grotto was very hot. He walked further down the cave’s hall and noticed he was inside a volcanic cave. Screams could be heard from all over; they were being carried by the warm air that flowed throughout the cavern. Eric felt pity for them, even though they killed the emperor. He snuck about the dark, fiery cavern until he came upon an Altmer wearing grey robes. He made a gesture to say that he was no enemy and began to speak.

“You are not one of the Chosen. What are you doing here?” He asked with a strange look.

“I am here to kill your master,” he said with disgust. His hatred for Mankar Camoran ran deep into his blood; along with Mehrunes Dagon. The Altmer’s face changed immediately after hearing those words; his face lit up with pure enjoyment.

“You can, really? If you want, I can help you get past those Dremora in the next room,” he said happily. Eric nodded and the Altmer began to walk to the next room; he turned and whispered, “Jump across that gap there.” He pointed to a deep and wide crack in the floor; it was filled with molten lava. He had no choice.

He ran and pushed himself into the air, but he could not make it. He grasped for the ledge and held on for dear life. He pulled with all of his strength and managed to hoist himself up and over the ledge to safety. He heard fighting in the room behind him; the Altmer was fighting the Dremora in there and doing a good job of it. Until, everything went quiet and a Dremora yelled.

He entered the next room and snuck past the lumbering daedroths. He pulled his dagger from his boot and shoved it into an assassin’s back. He fell with a heavy thud; Eric dragged him into the darkness. He continued on his way.

He ran into the same Altmer. He was flabbergasted that he was alive. The Altmer caught his expression and told him, “I used the master’s gift of eternal life to my advantage. Ha!” Eric understood. “Let me get those bands off of your wrists.” He waved his hand across the bands and they fell from Eric’s wrists. They exited the Forbidden Grotto and into the beauty of Camoran’s Paradise.

They sprinted up the slope and saw a grand palace, sitting on a rise in the hill. It overlooked the entire Paradise. Then they saw Mankar walking into the palace.

They bounded after him. When they were inside the stunning palace great hall, Mankar was sitting on his throne; the Amulet of Kings around his neck, taunting Eric to go and snatch it from him.

“I knew you would find a way to this place, Eric. Soon, Dagon will step onto the verdant soil of Tamriel and crush those who opposed him. The timid shall be cast down; the mighty shall tremble at his feet. If it is the Amulet you want, I shall burden you no longer. Come and take it!” He shouted. He pulled his staff from his back and pointed it at the Altmer.

Eric charged at Mankar with his sword drawn. He arced his sword back and swung. Mankar blocked the blow with his staff; it was surprisingly strong. Then again, it was infused with great power; Eric could feel it pulsing through his blade. Mankar waved his hand and the spell he cast threw Eric into the wall. He was dizzy from the impact; he scrambled back to his feet and he wobbled to Mankar once more. The Altmer was behind the throne. Eric scoffed at his cowardice, until he noticed what he was doing. The Altmer ran up behind Mankar and dug his dagger into Mankar’s thick skull. He dropped his staff and fell to the floor. The Altmer grabbed the Amulet and handed it to Eric. The Altmer’s final words were, “Good luck, friend. Send Dagon back to Oblivion.” He fell dead and the Paradise crumbled down around him. Everything went black…

Hey, man, don't worry about the lack of replies, this place can get pretty slow sometimes. I've already posted at TESFU, so I'll just let you take a look there.

Well, just so this doesn't look like spam, I'll say this.....you've come a long way in balancing your dialogue and body-type. You're doing good, V. Keep it up...

Oh yeah, I consider this quite an exciting read. Sure, Eric doesn't seem to take a break ever, but I'll be the first to admit that my characters rarely take breaks themselves.

You have a lot of fighting in it. Most of the fighting is short and to the point, but some clever finishes stand out. I really liked how the Altmer hid behind the throne and then put his dagger in Mankar's skull. Sure, it's cheap but hey, it works!

PART XXII

Eric was falling in an abyss. He fell for what felt like hours, but in all reality, he was actually falling for a few seconds. His heart was beating so fast, he thought it was about to beat right out of his chest. He closed his eyes.

He opened them to find he was in the mountain alcove and Martin was standing there, wearing the most amazing silks he had ever seen. Martin walked up to him.

“You’re back. So that means that Mankar is dead?” Martin asked. He was beaming; he was happy that Eric had prevailed in his most recent expedition. The Blades were preparing themselves for the journey to the Imperial City.

“Yes, Martin. I have the Amulet of Kings as well. Please put it on,” Eric pulled the red diamond from his pack and placed it into Martin’s open hand. He slid the ornately shaped chain over his head and rested the beautiful crimson colored gem on his chest. It glowed and Eric was relieved that it did not slip off. “You see, you are Uriel’s son.”

“I did not need the Amulet to tell me that. I believed you when you first told me back at Kvatch,” Martin replied. “Are you ready to go to the Imperial City? We must get there as soon as possible. I have sent word to Chancellor Ocato and he is waiting for us. From there, we… I can relight the Dragonfires.” Eric nodded and they left the alcove and mounted their horses.

Along the way, Eric and Martin talked about how their lives were no different from one another. They had become close friends since that day in Kvatch, when Eric had saved all of the people trapped inside the chapel from a fiery gate of hell. Martin was glad to have such great warrior protecting him. “Over the days, I have noticed you are quite knowledgeable with the plants and animals. While you were in Camoran’s Paradise, I read some of your literature. The way you describe things and the way you give emotion to your writing makes you seem less of a warrior and more of a scholar.” Eric told him of a story he had not yet finished. He felt as though this would be the last time he and Martin would have a conversation on things other than the Mysterium Xarxes. The entire time, they talked of stories and scriptures written by priests of the Nine. How Arkay was thwarted by Molag Bal by creating vampires, immortal creatures that walk the land by night. They talked to one another like it was their last day walk on the verdant soil of Tamriel ever again.

Eric and Martin, along with the rest of the Blades, had arrived in the Imperial City at noon. The sun was shining and the White Gold Tower was glistening with last night’s rain. It was beautiful, as though the God’s were rejoicing that we finally had an emperor to rule once more.

Inside the Imperial Palace, Eric and Martin entered the Elder Council Chambers and were greeted by an Altmer man; Eric had a feeling it was Chancellor Ocato.

“My lord, you have arrived. I have spoken to the other council members and they have agreed to let hold the thro…” He was interrupted. An Imperial Legion soldier ran through the doors.

“Chancellor Ocato! Chancellor Ocato! Daedra are pouring into the city. They are searching for Emperor Martin!” He shouted. The palace guards unsheathed their silver long swords and rounded up around Martin.

“Let’s get to the Temple of the One, NOW!” Martin said. They all ran outside.

Outside, a large contingent of Dremora and Daedric creatures rushed toward the twenty or so guards around Martin. The sky was red and lightning was striking the White Gold Tower. A clannfear managed to break through the circle surrounding Martin. Eric grabbed it by the tail and dragged it closer to him, where he dug his blade into its head. The palace guards were quick in butchering the Dremora and their little companions.

They were in the Temple District; they didn’t see any of the abominations called Daedra anywhere, but they could hear stomping. Eric, Martin, and the guards and Chancellor Ocato made their way around the Temple of the One, looking for the door. Instead, what they found was Mehrunes Dagon. He was one hundred feet tall and was carrying the battle axe; his clawed hand was in the air.

Then, the Mythic Dusk assassins rushed from a gate, wearing the same armor as before. Then, Eric saw the same great man from Bruma behind a few of the assassins. Eric rushed at him, sword drawn. “Ah, Champion. I knew I would see you here. Haha. Time to die!” He had the same claymore. He swung it back and their blades collided.

Eric rolled under him. He twisted around and swung again. Eric’s shield shot above his head. Sparks flew from the impact and Eric bent his knees to reduce the shock of the attack. It was hot and Eric’s sweat was burning his eyes, but he merely ignored the pain and fought the deadly assassin. The man grabbed Eric and tossed him to the side like a tattered old doll. He jumped back to his feet and cut the man’s back; he shouted and swung the claymore once again. Eric jumped backwards and the claymore whizzed past his head. It missed him by centimeters. He cut him again.

The man thrusted his sword; it went straight through Eric’s armor. He coughed up blood and he became dizzy. His hands held the sharp of the blade as his began to fade. He heard the giant of a man laughing hysterically. His agony went on for what felt like ages and ages; his life flashed before his eyes. Birth. Wrongful imprisonment. Helping Martin become the emperor. Eric gave on last prayer to Talos and went limp. He was dead. The man pulled his claymore from Eric’s lifeless body and disappeared in the fight.

Martin did not know what had happened to Eric as he made his way to the door of the Temple of the One. He entered and Mehrunes ripped the roof from the temple.

Martin grabbed the Amulet and shattered it. A light burst from Martin’s chest and a great shockwave blew the columns from their fixed positions. He became the avatar of Akatosh, a great, fiery dragon. Mehrunes paused for a moment and swung his battle axe at the avatar.

The Avatar flew around this attack and returned one of his own. He bit Mehrunes’ neck. He roared and shoved his claw into the Avatar’s torso. Akatosh swiped at Mehrunes and cut him deeply. A sickly ocean of blood poured from the wound, flooding the temple.

Akatosh gave Mehrunes a blast of fire. The heat was too intense for Mehrunes to handle. His body cracked all over and he shattered into thousands of pieces. The Avatar huffed for several long moments and roared into the heavens, confirming his victory. After that, the Avatar cooled and became a beautiful marble sculpture.

Martin, Chancellor Ocato, Eric Snowmane, and several of the Imperial Palace guards were dead. The Septim bloodline was broken and no one could hold the throne. The deaths were many, but Eric and Martin’s deaths were the most sorrowful of them all. Eric was a hero to many and now he will be remembered in the hearts of all. Martin was a great leader and a kind pious man. They will both be missed.

I end this book with complete gratification for Eric, Martin, and the many men and women who died to protect our world from ultimate destruction. This book was dedicated to the Nordic man who delivered us from evil. If he had lived, he would have been forever known as the Champion of Cyrodiil, the highest rank that can be received in the Order of the Dragon.


May the Nine be with us all,

Travian Hiltor, priest of Akatosh

An absolutely GREAT ending to a GREAT story. It was so awesome, with all of the emotion and everything else. I give you major kudos for a job well done. It was sort of an abrubt ending, but I kind of like those. You literally have NO clue what's going to happen. Great job, V, I can't wait to see your next story...

I'd like to echo what Reds said there. This story really improved by leaps and bounds as it went on - huge leaps and bounds at that. It's great to see you made such an effort to improve, and took suggestions the right way, and I'm delighted to see the results. Well done, and I look forward to reading what you come up with next

Thanks you guys