The plains of Cyrodiil were ripe with assorted flowers this time of year, a small group of Aldmeri soldiers were slowly walking across the grasslands outside Kvatch, there were only four, they were led by a Khajiit, average size, and with very dark fur, he was clad in light iron, with blue highlights, a long black braided ponytail on his head and down his back, this was Son Dro’kai, he was followed closely by the two Bosmer, both around the same height, one had brownish hair, tied in a small ponytail at the back, a scar ran past his left white eye, he was donned in iron armour, heavy in design, strong and steadfast, made by the fine smiths of Auridon, a large iron axe on his back, they called him Zathal Delagraht, and the other was Fingolfin Tiwele, a long red ponytail on his head, he was donned in leather, a sturdy bow on his back, then at the very back of the group was Glaon Aedal, the Altmer, he was tall, taller than any elf who stood before, a light brown mane adorned his head, his armour rent, yet still durable, two swords at his side.

“This one believes we are getting closer to the cold lands” Spoke Son Dro’kai, his head slightly turned to the rest of his entourage, it was Glaon that answered
“You’ve said that many times” he spoke with a slight smirk.
Zathal turned his head “positive thoughts, Altmer, positive thoughts”
Fingolfin spoke up “I have read the stars, we are close”
Zathal quickly retorted “You cannot read, kinsman”

All that could be heard for a while was the group crunching beneath the feet of the four Aldmeri soldiers, but the quiet was broken when Glaon spoke “It is a fine day to be travelling, we seldom find peaceful moments in this time”, it was Son Dro'kai who responded “This one does not like the quiet, there is a war, but this one hears no fighting”,
“Perhaps everyone is having breakfast” Zathal chuckled, he received a sly smirk from the Khajiit “Thank Jone and Jode that you are not, Elves of the wood have nasty eating habits this one has heard”.

Then appeared a man shaped figure on the horizon, as the sun graced it's presence, it became clear the man was armoured, and held a sword in hand, with a shield on his back, he was tanned, either by natural origin, or long days in the sun, it was not easy to tell, the group halted, but no weapons were drawn, as the man walked with a limp, he came closer, the mark of the lion on his breastplate, Daggerfall Covenant, he was a Redguard, large, hardened from battle, he outstretched his hand “Water” a faint call was heard, but before the group could respond the man was sent flying forward a few feet, a javelin lodged in his back and piercing through his chest.

There was then a rumble over a distant hill, Son Dro’kai quickly hurried the group “This one does not wish to fight where it is not needed” the rumble grew closer, the group hurried more, a horse’s whinny was heard just over the hill, the tip of a banner could be spotted, it looked to belong to the Ebonheart Pact, Fingolfin spotted it “Oh Mara! What is that?”, it was Glaon who responded again
“It is a flag, young one”, Fingolfin gave him a stern look
“I know that you tall…” he was cut off by a louder whinny, the horses came speeding over the hill, it appeared to be Nords who were riding them, the group was quickly surrounded, spear points were already upon them, the leader approached them, Fingolfin’s eyes widened “It is a woman?” he ogled, he was given a sharp nudge to the ribs “Hush Kinsman” whispered Zathal.

The Nord woman stood tall upon her horse, she had long brown hair, a scar down her face, faint, but noticeable “Hang on the fire, Yoric! We needed that Redguard alive, he knew the location of the Dovahgolz” her icy eyes then pierced over all of the group “Three elves and a cat walk across a field…” she started, Son Dro’kai was about to step forward when he was stopped by Glaon.
“Hail shield-maiden, we seek passage to your homeland”, Zathal gave him an uneasy look, then swiftly nodded and smiled “Yes, this is true”, She gave the group a sly smirk “Would that be on foot, in cages or in an urn?” she mused, Fingolfin gave her a quizzical look “What is an urn. Dear lady?”, Son Dro’kai gave him a stern nudge with his staff “What this elf means to say, is that this one and his companions seek passage to the cold lands… alive”.
Glaon nodded “May I ask for your name, shield-maiden?”, She nodded
“Carlessa Fair-winter” she smiled “Or your death, whichever you want” she added, a quick unsheathe of her sword, Fingolfin jumped backwards, reaching for his bow
“Shadows protect us!” Son Dro’kai announced as his staff hit the floor, with a large thud, darkness engulfed the plains, horses whined, Nords dismounted, but the group… were nowhere to be found, Carlessa looked around
“Bloody cats and their stupid magic” She called over her second “Yoric!” she called, over he came, he was a stern man, long bearded and very hardy “Let the hunter have his fun in Kvatch, cats usually flee to the nearest litter box” she commanded.
Yoric nodded “Yes, shield-maiden, I shall alert him at once”.

Son Dro’kai made the group appear inside Kvatch, they were within the market place, busy as usual, he looked around sceptically “This looks safe, for now” he muttered, but before they knew it, a young lady was upon them, she was small, an imperial, black of hair, she gazed up at them
“Dominion soldiers?” she asked, a fair smile on her face “What brings the dominion over to this part of Tamriel?”, Fingolfin stepped forward towards her
“Hullo.” He said in a jolly tone “Fingolfin Tiwele at your service sweet cheeks”, She gave him an uneasy look
“Rose…. At yours?” she said wearily, her hand slipping down her side “You want to be hiding then? Dominion soldiers always hide”, Zathal raised his voice slightly
“The dominion never hides”.
Rose smirked “What are you doing now then?”, Son Dro’kai held a hand up
“This one wishes no trouble between you and us”.
Rose led them into a quiet alley “Quickly now, don’t fall behind”.

They stopped, quite suddenly, she had turned, her eyes looking over each one of them, a few men had appeared behind her, bows pointed in their general direction “Where is my brother?” she demanded, the group looked confused
“Brother? I do not know” Glaon spoke softly, Rose moved close, a knife brandished in her hands “My brother went as an emissary to Grahtwood, he has not returned, the dominion had taken him, I can feel it”, The group looked at each other, except… one was missing, the Khajiit.

Zathal pulled his axe off his back “Sheathe your weapons, Imperial scum”, Glaon stood stern, both swords slowly drawn.
Rose chuckled “You wish to draw blood in an imperial city?”, One of the men quickly moved forward, sword raised, a battle cry emerging from his mouth, it was Glaon who met him head on, using his stature to his advantage, towering over the young man, he blocked the sword with one of his own, then a swift swing and the man’s head was separated from his shoulders, it rolled past Fingolfin, who had already pulled his bow from his back, losing an arrow directly at Rose, who stepped away from it, pinning a passing pigeon to a nearby wall, that’s when Zathal moved forward, his axe high above his head, there was a battle cry “Grahtwood!” he yelled, bringing his axe crunching down on one of the others, Fingolfin caught one lad with an arrow to the knee, there was a large blast, fire rained down on two of the others.
Rose let out a cry “Crows! Fall back!”.
Son Dro’kai stood above them, a smile on his face “Well done friends, you did well”, Fingolfin made his way to the wall, the pigeon had been cooked from the flames of Son Dro’kai’s fireball, Fingolfin pulled it from the wall, taking a small nibble from it “The Khajiit should be a chef, this is delicious!” he announced, Zathal knelt down by one of the bodies, looking over it, running a hand over its face, shutting it’s eyes “We have spilt blood of the innocent” he mumbled solemnly, Glaon smiled lightly “They were not innocent, friend, they intended to spill our blood, we only did what was necessary”, Zathal gave him a quick glare “It does not sit right, but I am sure Altmer are fine with mindlessly killing those weaker than them in the name of some good” he said harshly, Son Dro’kai raised his voice “Enough of that talk, Bosmer, we are friends, not foes”, Fingolfin smiled “I think we did a good job”

Son Dro’kai hushed the group, his feline ears to the sky, his vantage point proving useful “This one hears something sinister”, the sky had turned grey, something had appeared in the sky, a circular object, right above Kvatch, it was spinning in place, a purple haze in the middle, an anchor dropped from the sky, it crashed into the cathedral, driving straight through it, the three looked to the roof, Son Dro’kai was not there, a bell was heard in the distance, it seemed Kvatch was caught unaware, as only a few guards were on station, they charged towards the cathedral, the three quickly moved out of the alley, into the market, Daedra were already there, clad in large black armour, they marched slowly as the guards charged them, one guard was immediately ripped in two by one strike, Glaon watched on as guards were cut down where they stood, the Daedra had only just arrived and Kvatch was on the brink of destruction, Zathal drew his axe “Do we assist?” he asked.

That was when horses were heard, through the gates came men clad in heavy steel, a banner flew ahead of them, it was of the dragon, Ebonheart Pact, the one at the head of the riders was built like a mountain, a horned helmet on his head, large battle axe held casually in his hand as the riders approached the market place, the group moved out the way as the Nords charged the Daedra lines, smashing into them with brute force, the largest dismounted immediately, striking down a Daedric warrior with one swing, Zathal saw his moment, he began running, Glaon quickly followed, his swords drawn, Fingolfin fired arrows as he ran, hitting the Daedra, doing minor damage to their armour, Zathal clashed with them, his axe smashed into one of the Daedra, bouncing off of it’s armour, the Daedric warrior slashed in an upwards arc, catching Zathal’s armour, making a large dent in his breastplate, he stumbled backwards, gripping his axe tightly “Grahtwood!” he announced, moving his arms in a clockwise fashion, striking the Daedric warrior with all his might, it cut through, felling it, but instantly another was upon him, Glaon was duelling with one, his speed being tested by the flurry of blows, Zathal watched as the axe came down to him, it crashed on his shoulder, he fell on one knee, his vision becoming blurred, a warm trickle of blood down his chest and leaking onto his breastplate, but the Daedric warrior was gone, in front of Zathal stood the mountain of a man, it glared at him, gripping his axe “Little Elfie all alone, coming here to die I see” he growled, Glaon was to him “He is not alone!” he yelled, jabbing with all his might, the mountain moved backwards, a deep chuckle was heard “Oh I see, two elfies, two gravestones”, Fingolfin gripped Zathal, dragging him backwards, out of the way of the fight, Glaon, moved aggressively, his swords moving with lighting speed, the mountain stood un phased “I am the Hunter, I drink more aggressive things than you little elf”, Glaon’s stature was nothing in comparison, but still, he stood his ground
“Hunter becomes hunted, as they say” he muttered, swinging his sword toward the mountain, who caught it with his giant gauntlet, he clenched his fist, the blade shattered, Glaon watched in peril as a giant fist was pushed towards him, forcing him over towards the other two.

Then appeared Son Dro’kai, standing in front of the group, facing the mountain “This one thinks it is time to leave” he chuckled, engulfing the group in darkness, but as the spell was charging up, the mountain marched towards them, his blood soaked axe clenched tightly, a dark chuckle “The cat’s fur would look good on my plate”

At that moment, he was caught unaware, Rose was upon him, a flurry of strikes at him, but the mountain stood tall, his axe swung in a clockwise direction, there it was, Rose was defeated, her head rolled along the floor, facing the group, Glaon clenched his fist, but then Kvatch was gone, replaced by green fields, but still, the flames were visible, the anchor still in the sky, Zathal let out a light cry in pain “We.. we must help them”, Son Dro’kai gave him a dismissive shake of his hand “We cannot, this one cannot”

Behind them a horn sounded, three heads turned, Zathal's remained on Kvatch, The Aldmeri banner flew high, several riders on horseback, at the head appeared to be a lord, he rode forward, red-brown haired, white eyes, a polite smile on his face, he appeared Bosmer “Hail, good soldiers, do you need aid?” he asked, as other soldiers rode forward, taking long looks at Kvatch “Molag Bal does not give up does he?” one mumbled, another growled “One thousand curses upon those forsaken Daedra”, Glaon stood up to greet the Lord “Yes my lord, who is it this humble servant speaks to?”, “Eirthal Delagraht, lord that is” the lord spoke, it was Zathal who answered “Little brother?”, Eirthal peered around the group, a look of surprise came upon his face “Brackenleaf's Branches! What has happened to you?”.

A small camp had been set up, the group of four sat with Eirthal, a young Altmer girl worked on Zathal's wound “Lierwen, what is the damage?” Eirthal asked her, she gave a light smile “Mara smiles upon all Delagrahts it would seem, the blade seems to have done little more than sever a few arteries, it will take time, but it will heal, for now I suggest avoiding combat, or, at least two handed weapons”, Zathal frowned at this, but Eirthal raised a light laugh
“Worry not brother, I shall take care of your axe, you may use my blade” he said, tossing over the sheathed weapon, Zathal caught it in his free hand “My thanks” he muttered, Eirthal looked over the group “Where is it you are headed?”, Zathal quickly responded “Haven, Grahtwood”, Eirthal gave him a quizzical look, as did the group.
“Jackdaw territory?” Lierwen asked from beside him.
Zathal nodded “Aye, I have family there”
Eirthal nodded in agreement “I can spare horses and a few good men, but that is all, I would accompany you, but I fear I have an important task ahead of me”, Zathal nodded, Glaon also did “My thanks, my lord”.

“So how did my little brother achieve lordship?”
Eirthal laughed “Little I may be, but I have a long reach, and the political game of the dominion is very... cut throat”, the group laughed along, time passed as they drank to good health and fortune of the queen, but then, Eirthal spoke very seriously “I must depart, I am already behind, Lierwen.”
“Yes, my beloved?”
“I need you to stay with my brother”
“Are you certain, my husband?”
“Yes, he will need your assistance in Haven” Eirthal spoke, his eyes briefly moving over the Khajiit
"People will do anything for coin" He finished