Prologue

Five-hundred years had passed since it happened. The Oblivion Crisis is what I refer to. Slightly more than five-hundred years since the Obsidian Tower crumbled in the Black Marsh. Zalphon died in it, and his former companions escaped, barely.

Quick-Strike and J'skooma travelled from place-to-place after the events of the Obsidian Tower. Then the Oblivion Crisis happened. The Champion of Cyrodiil may've fought most of the battles, but the Argonian and the Khajiit saved him from the Mythic Dawn Cult. Yes, the one in the Caverns he fought were powerful, but Quick-Strike and J'skooma single-handedly killed the survivors of the Caverns and the rest.

When the Champion returned from Mankar Camaron's paradise. He changed. His tanned, imperial skin began to gray. His oceanic, blue eyes turned to where his eye-color was as black as his pupils. After Martin died, he ventured to the Shivering Isles. When he came back, he wore not his Imperial Dragon Armor, but worse. Strange armor from the Realm of Madness.

He slaughtered the remaining members of the Blades and terrorized Cyrodiil. However, he dissapeared soon-after the new Dynasty came to power. Then Morrowind blew. The argonians of the Black Marsh killed the slaving argonians.

Azura's Coast, the Ashlands, the Bitter Coast, it was all gone. The land was black and the seas boiled. Over one-hundred years passed before the sea stopped boiling and J'skooma and left the mainland for Vvardenfell.

They survived in the dead-lands of Vvardenfell. They formed a village and lived off what little vegetation there was. More settlers came, in search of the legendary heroes Quick-Strike and J'skooma. Indeed, that is exactly what they found. The Grandest, yet most moral assassin in all of Nirn; the most powerful, yet most mad wizard to ever live.

The village grew and eventually Quick-Strike and J'skooma left, for they hunted for a place of solitude, where the two heroes could pray that their friend, Zalphon wasn't punished for his crimes in the Dreamsleeve. The Demi-Gods, Quick-Strike and J'skooma were nowhere to be found in all of Vvardenfell. The tribalistic village searched for years, but to no avail.

The village became more secluded and named itself, "Ashenborn." Ashenborn survived for five centuries. Then my mother gave birth to me. When I was young, I out-smarted my tribal kin. I was also stronger and faster. As I grew older, it was more apparent to my peers and the elders how superior I was.

The Village Elder, an old imperial woman called me to her hut. "Child of Ashenborn," she said. "When Quick-Strike and J'skooma left, they spoke of a 'Chosen One'. We believe that may be you. However you must prove yourself."

"How?" I questioned. "And what is the duty of the Chosen One?"

"You must enter Vivec, travel to the Palace of Vivec, and return alive." She responded. "And I have sensed the barrier between our world and Oblivion weakening oncemore. The Chosen One must stop history from repeating itself. If you come back from Vivec alive, there is a holy artifact of our village for you."

"What is it, Elder?" I asked.

"The clothing Zalphon wore when he left Balmora and found Quick-Strike and J'skooma," she responded. "Not his armor, for that armor is forever gone. Only in memory can the Dragonbane Armor be found."

"Elder, why Zalphon's clothing? Why not Quick-Strike's or J'skooma's?"

"Child, Zalphon was their dearest friend. He meant everything to them. They said when Zalphon died, their hearts' were filled with nothing. Just empty. And the clothing Zalphon wore, they guarded with their lives as a sign of respect. They said it was for the Chosen One and no one else."

"I see, Elder," I replied. "How long do I have to prepare?"

"As soon as possible, preferrably one day or less," she stated. "If you are the Chosen One, the fate of Tamriel rests on your shoulders..."

And then a band called the 'Enclave of Orcs and Crazed Magicians' attacked Ashenborn and the Chosen One managed to push them back.

Sorry, can't resist.

Anyway, this story is like borrowed from a certain game that was made by a certain company who also made another certain game that this forum is dedicated to.

Seriously, you've got to be original.

And apart from that, what happened to the 'Shadow Knight'? We readers would like to know what happened, not rush in and tell us that 'Zalphon was crushed to death! A new story begins! Hip-hip, hooray!'

And nits.

'the argonians of Blackmarsh killed the slaving argonians'

Huh? So some of the Argonians made their own kin slaves?

'Over one-hundred years passed before the sea stopped boiling and J'skooma and ??? left the mainland for Vvardenfell.'

You forgot to put some(ahemargonianahem)one in there.

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Now that that's over with, let's see where this goes to, eh?

Not a bad write.

ZALPHON DEAD??????? Is this when he becomes a lich? ARGH!!! Not Zalphon !!!!!

Urenia, this is intentional. However, it does branch off greatly. And it was meant to be the argonians killed off the slaving dunmer.

The Elder Scrolls of the Fallout V: Return to the Palace of Vivec

I'm not totally adverse to "Chosen Ones" but....I dunno, most stories are usually a bit more, how shall I say, subtle about it? Yeah, subtle is a good word.



And, let me guess, if he gets cut he bleeds light because he's so awesome.

Fair enough, bad idea for a story. Noted. Besides, this was more a psur of the moment story anyway.

Well, I wouldn't call it a bad idea entirely.

No, the purpose of a chosen one is a bad idea. At least so blatently obvious. To be fair, I was doped up on OTC-Anti Congestants (sick). However, the purpose of a second oblivion crisis could make an amazing story. Hey, check out my story: The Rightous Assassin.