User blog:HambleBee/Whispers of Dawn and Dusk - A Prelude

Thunder filled the skies of Whiterun Hold as it rained heavily as if the sky itself was weeping. The people of the city of Whiterun, who were so vibrant and hopeful, were now reduced to a state of depression.

Ever since news from the south made it to Skyrim, times grew harder than before when the Stormcloaks took Skyrim and rebuilt the land to be a prosperous independent nation. But all that changed.

The news of High King Ulfric himself being felled in the Battle of Malabal Tor had stricken the people of Skyrim like a dagger to the heart. Their proud leader was slain by an unknown champion of the Aldmeri Dominion, who used mysterious magic of unknown origin to throwing a golden spear that pierced his torso from afar.

Even the High Priest of the Temple of Talos in Whiterun, Heimskr, could not believe the turn of events, on how fate has dealt them a cruel hand. Andurs of the Temple of Arkay, despite the loss, continued to make preparations to honor High King Ulfric for being a true hero of Skyrim, and possibly Tamriel itself.

"How long do you think the peace here is gonna last?" a young Redguard asked a Nord taller than her, who had steel-blue eyes and an unfazed gaze.

"Who knows. Knowing the Dominion, they will take advantage of this victory and the broken morale of Skyrim. But since the Cyrodiil, High Rock, and Hammerfell continue the fight, this had bought us a bit of time. But we cannot mourn forever. We must act soon." he said sternly. Despite not showing it, the man did mourn for the late High King in his own way, and his apprentice understood that.

The proceedings were cut short by a distant explosion. The Nord immediately looked to the source of the sound and deduced that it came from the city gates.

"Mihra, head for Dragonsreach and wait there until.everything's over." the Nord said.

"But-"

"Now."

Without further protest, Mihra fled for safety while the City Guard mobilized towards the gates to confront the issue at hand.

As soon as the guards approached the gates, they found themselves under attack by a hail of golden spears thrown by tall attackers clad in full Elven Gilded Armor. Several guards already went down, unable to effectively block against such projectiles that traveled faster and hit harder than arrows.

"So much for lasting peace." the Nord told himself before he flexed his arms, and what looked like draconic wings came out of his back to flex itself as well, a film-like barrier forming around him in the process.

The elves took notice of the newcomer and threw their ethereal golden spears for him. Just as they hit, however, the spears simply shattered when they hit the Nord as he leaped for one of the elves after summoning what looked like a fiery chain from his left hand to pull an unfortunate elf towards the business-end of his battleaxe.

With one of their comrades down, the three remaining elves surrounded the Nord from three sides as the City Guard mobilized to apprehend the attackers. The Nord gave the guards a gesture to stand down, however, unwilling to add more fodder to the skilled Altmer.

"So tell me; Did the Dominion send all of you to add insult to injury?" the Nord asked.

"You have enjoyed your time in the sun for long enough, Nord." the Captain of the Altmer group simply said, before rushing towards the Nord with a golden spear in hand.

The Nord countered by simply strafing to his right to cleave at his opponent with his battleaxe. The Altmer went to counterattack by swinging his spear for his left however, causing both axe and spear to collide against each other and recoil both combatants.

In response, the Nord inhaled quickly before releasing a fiery breath towards the Captain, causing him to raise a ward to mitigate the attack at the last moment.

"So, a Templar of Stendarr." the Nord murmured to himself. Releasing his inner dragon, magical spikes appeared around his back and forearms and hardened his skin enough to cause the Captain's spear to recoil as he jabbed quickly at his opponent before the Nord countered by quickly exhaling yet another smaller yet scorching fiery breath towards the Captain. This time, the Captain took much of the flames and was forced to step backward, his enchanted armor preventing some damage as he healed himself with a cleansing light.

"I never expected to face a practitioner of lost Akaviri arts. But no matter." the Captain shrugged before letting out a smirk.

What sounded like a war horn could be heard from the upper levels of the Cloud District, before the sounds of magic being fired could be heard from Dragonsreach.

The Nord gritted his teeth a little, realizing that the attack on the gate was a diversion while another force somehow went in from another side.

"Face it, barbarian. It's over." the Captain let out, "Order your guards to stand down, and we may yet spare this city from being burned to the ground."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you, elf." a distant voice could be heard speaking. It was from a man clad in black armor unlike anything ever seen, a mixture of mage attire combined with rigid platings of armor accompanied with a matching helm and face mask that concealed the identity of the wearer.

"What? Who are you?" the Captain demanded, not even aware that he and his two men were surrounded by men wearing almost the same set of armor worn by the newcomer, except the other men wore a steel plate variant each.

"It doesn't matter. Yield and face trial, or we will be forced to execute you on sight." the man warned only once.

Seeing no other choice in the matter due to being overwhelmed by numbers, the Captain gestured for his two compatriots to stand down and surrendered meekly, raising their hands where the black-armored men could see them. The armored men then proceeded to cast what looked like a miniature rune on the back of the necks of the elves before binding their hands and taking them away.

"As much as I want to thank you for the timely intervention, I need to ask; Who are you?" the Nord asked.

"Not here." the man said, "After the mess is cleaned up, we will explain everything to you and your Jarl."

...

Several hours later...

...

Jarl Avulstein Gray-Mane and his court were wary of the newcomers present in their court. Despite being saved from a back attack by Thalmor agents during the recent incident, the Nords had problems trusting their newfound saviors, feeling an uneasy aura about them from what they saw, on how the armored men quickly dispatched the Thalmor assassins meant to end the lives of the Jarl and his court.

"I understand your uneasiness, my Jarl. But rest assured, you are safe. We have no intention to bring you or anyone in Whiterun harm." the leader of the armored men said.

"You never told us who you are, outsider. Who are you and why did you aid us?" the Jarl asked, keeping his tone as polite as possible as to not raise the ire of the leader.

"My name is Vallis Vardengroet. We aided you because we have a common enemy in this new Great War." the leader spoke up, "But before we discuss the details of that, please accept our sincere condolences for the loss of your High King, Ulfric Stormcloak." he added.

"Thank you, Vallis. Now continue with what was to be discussed?" Avulstein asked as if in a hurry to get to the point.

"Right to the point, are you. I like that." Vallis nodded.

"Very well. We, of the Cabal of Malatar, seek to aid those who value their personal freedoms in the war against the Thalmor and the Aldmeri Dominion " the Breton explained.

"..." Avulstein thought about what was explained to him in front of him, and even his court whispered amongst themselves if these newcomers could be trusted due to how cautious the Nords are concerning trust.

"And what do you ask in exchange?" the Jarl asked, breaking his silence after a while.

"Nothing. Just your aid in taking the war to the Dominion and making them answer for the atrocities they have committed in the First Great War." Vallis answered.

It almost seemed too good to be true. Avulstein had his doubts, but saw little choice in the matter, especially on how the Thalmor easily infiltrated their city and almost ended their lives.

"...Very well. But know this; So long as the throne of Skyrim remains empty, our hands are bound. We are to gather the Moot to elect a new High King or High Queen of Skyrim. Only after we crown our new leader can we aid you against the Dominion." Avulstein said.

"Very well. I believe we have a lot to discuss soon after this." Vallis nodded with a smile, offering his hand for a shake. With caution, the Jarl of Whiterun shook the man's hand, and a pact was made between the two sides...

To be continued...