Crusade of the Knight Commander

The deed was done. Umaril the Unfeathered was slain. I withdrew my sword from the last sorcerer king of the Ayleids. The Elven king had waged a personal war across Cyrodil against the imperial cults, sacking the great cathedrals to the nine all the while Daedra poured forth from Oblivion. Under normal circumstances the Empire would have had little problem dealing with this upstart since the gates of Oblivion were opening, there were very few men to deal with the assaults on the chapels. Before I had taken the pilgrims path no one but the town guard was able to respond to the threat. While I first restarted the knights we had been unable to do anything but respond. As our influence grew we started to take the offensive against Umaril while still assisting the Legion in closing the Oblivion gates. Finally, our crusade brought us here to Garlas Malatar, the strong hold of Umaril the Unfeathered where we fought the forces of the arisen King until through some sorcery the vile Ayleid brought us up to the heavens for our final battle.

As my sword finally left Umaril's corpse, what ever force that had held us aloft vanished as I plummeted. One final bit of petty revenge it seemed. Even in death the damned elf still spites the Divines. Yet as I fall I can't help but feel content. My foe in his domain was brought down by my holy sword. If the Arkay has decided that it is my time to die then I shall go. I have completed my task and the next knight commander shall rule in my place. Perhaps he shall see the closing of the final Oblivion gate in my stead but as the ground of the imperial city rushes towards me it would seem that even if I were to survive this my crusade is over. I take one last final look at my hated enemy. His corpse is just behind me as it falls. Perhaps if he had simply let go of his single minded hatred of the Divines and their crusader he could have seen that what he had been trying to do was futile. Maybe then he could have been granted mercy but no. Now the final King of the Ayleids fell and for what. Vengeance? It was a pity that the last memories of the Ayleid people would be that of destruction.

Tearing my eyes away from Umaril I see a white light beneath me as I descend into the small star that had appeared below.

…

"Wake up Jabari Solomon. Your time is not up just yet." That voice. I had heard it many times during one of my yearly trips to the other chapels. Brother Martin of Kvatch. He had disappeared with some strange woman after the castle was taken back by the legion and the remaining Kvatch guards. Some said that the woman was the Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild but when ever they were called up to show their evidence they fell short and thus the identity of the hero of Kvatch remained a mystery as people forgot the woman.

"Martin? Is that you?" What I saw when I opened my eyes was not Martin but a magnificent dragon blazing with holy golden flame. If this was some sort of trickery through illusion magic I don't see the point in it. I was a dead man most likely having fallen onto the imperial city streets from a height no mortal without some knowledge of alteration magic could survive. Sadly he did not.

"Yes my friend. This is me now. In the final battle to stop the crisis I had to sacrifice myself to save everyone. For my sacrifice I have been made an avatar of Akatosh and I was able to close shut the jaws of Oblivion and defeat Mahrunes Dagon… but my time on Tamriel ended there." The final battle had happened and the crisis was over? I had gone on my crusade to stop Umaril people where still reeling from the destruction of Kvatch yet now it seemed a great battle had taken place. How had they gathered enough strength to attack the imperial city? The center of the imperial legion itself!?

"Martin… how long have I been gone?" The dragon shifted uncomfortably for just a moment. If his hesitation was anything to tell by I had been asleep far longer than I had originally thought. Finally Martin spoke once more.

"It has been half a year since you fell slaying Umaril. Two months since the gates of Oblivion were shut."

"Then what am I needed for Martin. Why bring me back if the portals are closed?" Once again Martin remained quiet before gazing off into the distance. Following his gaze I saw something more than the featureless void around me. Far away in the distance was a small brown island. Every few seconds it would crack with green lightning as if it was ravaged by an immense storm. Turning to Martin I ask,

"What is that Martin. Is that why you brought me here?"

"That my friend is another world. It is like a distorted mirror of Nirn. Showing a much different reality than that of which you and I are familiar with. I fear that as I explored my new form and ventured to discover places I had never been before I had accidentally brought the interest of the Daedra with me… Akatosh did not wish to interfere with the worlds even as the Daedra drew closer to it. It was no consequence to him and the others if one world was lost. Though through the council of the other Divines I have been given permission to act and right my wrongs."

"Have the Daedra twisted this world as you have said?"

"No… the world is not twisted… simply a distorted mirror of our beloved Tamriel. What I fear is that the Daedra will destroy the world in their meddling. Even now their agents move through the world creating ripples in the world and change that are both for the benefit of the people and to their detriment. Even if I am to protect these people I would be playing to the same tune as the ones I wish to stop. No matter what I do the pieces have been set and there is nothing I can do that will stop this play from finishing. What I can do is make sure that there is still a world for the people there to exist on… Father Jabari, I need your help. If you would accept my offer I want you to be my agent on Thedas. To stop the atrocities committed by the agents of chaos and to assist the agents of those who wish to make the world a better place." Martin truly needed my help. Here the avatar of Akatosh stood in all of his glory humbling himself in asking a mortal for assistance. Sure I knew Martin had never let pride take hold of him while mortal but it still did not take away the pride in myself that I was needed by such a important figure in imperial religion. I take out my sword and kneel in front of Martin.

"If you would allow this humble Knight Commander the honour to serve you my Lord."

"Thank you Jabari." The next words from the dragon were not Martin's friendly tone but instead held the will of Akatosh. "From now on Knight Commander you shall be my agent on Thedas. A world ravaged by the gods of their world and left to rot by those very gods. A world left to the machinations of the Daedra which will bring both joy and suffering. By the will of Akatosh you shall seek out those who would tear this world asunder and destroy them." Martins voice returned once more. "How you do your duty is up to you. I can not assist you more than the Divines assisted you in the past. The Daedra that would take this realm for themselves assault the barriers of the world even now. You will have my blessing along with your followers and the Divines will answer the prayers of those who accept them into their hearts as will the Daedra to their followers. Be careful my friend and may the Divines guide your path." Slowly my vision started to fade. The last thing that I saw was Martin's wings extending as he prepared to take off into the void.

…

The forest that I wake up to is somewhat reminiscent of the great pine forests in northern Cyrodil during the Midyear when all the snow had melted and the people started preparing for the Midyear celebrations. As I walked I began to spot some differences between Tamriel and this 'Thedas'. In the underbrush small fox like creatures would dart out of the underbrush fleeing as soon as the clanking of my armour reached their ears. The plants, where not anything completely alien or fantastical were not the usual sort that could be found around Tamriel. Tiny differences in ingredients always had to be caught by alchemists to be able to determine that their potion was made with the right parts.

As I walk, I begin to notice the natural sounds of the forest had started to become more distant the further I move forward. Either I was getting closer to some sort of civilization or a traveler moving through the forest. Suddenly I start to hear the crackling of a camp fire. As I approach the camp I begin to hear panicked ruffling until is became quiet once again. The clanking of my armour had never disturbed the animals around me before. Not with my boots making me seem to the animals one with nature like the spriggan guardians of the wilds. Passing between two bushes I came upon the camp site I was searching for sans whoever had taken refugee here before. Perhaps I had spooked them with the heavy clanking of my armour. Clearing my throat I speak.

"Hello? I know you're there. There is no need to hide from me." No reply. "I was just wondering if you could-" A fireball came from my left. And was accompanied by a shout.

"I'll never go back to the circle! You can't make me!" Raising my shield I block the fireball that had been charging for my face but a moment ago. While I grab at my mace I observe my foe who had attempted to bring me down like so many had tried to before. The lad was young. Couldn't be any older than an average associate or apprentice at the mages guild. The boy didn't even have any facial hair to speak of. What ever this circle was he seemed desperate to escape it. It could have been a prison but what would a child so young be doing in such a place. Of course there was always the possibility that he was one of the unfortunate street children who had been caught pick pocketing but going by his robes he could be a cultist. In either case his magic was a danger that had be to brought to heel. The boy was panicking as I had seen others do before. Reason would not reach him, not now as the fire flew forth from his hand and bounced off my shield. As he charged up another fireball I sprint up to him and bring my mace down onto his forehead. He falls unconscious near instantaneously with possibly a concussion. I had made sure to be careful that I did not use my full strength so not to crack his skull like so many bandits and highway men before him.

The boys magic… it had been different than the magic I was used to. It was almost like the magics used by daedra though… different. The magics of Oblivion were different and sometimes strange as the realms of oblivion changed in accordance to their princes will. Most magics that originated from the Oblivion planes had a sort of unnatural feel to those attuned to the ways of the bodily energies that flow through a persons body. The boys magic felt as if it originated from Oblivion yet… was thinner and not as powerful. Why was his magic like this? I pick up the boy and move to place him on top of his bedroll. When the boy wakes up I shall talk to him, and maybe find out what this "Circle" is. Until then I might as well investigate the effects of the local fauna.

...

Hmm… the root of these plants seem to have a natural affinity to healing. It is powerful. More so than Cairn Bolete caps and many other ingredients in healing potions. It would defiantly be useful for the people here to have these to cure many of their ailments. As well as it seems to have the slight effect of fortification. Much less than it's healing prowess but extremely useful… I also feel slightly stronger and… some of my magicka seems to be returning. This is truly a wonderful plant and it grows everywhere! If this is such a common plant then they must not have to worry as much about wounds while their alchemists must find this a splendid ingredient to create healing potion with.

"Ugh… wha?" It seems that the boy is waking up now. I pick up my helmet from where I had placed it and made my way to the youth. His head shot to me as my armour clanked from my walking.

"S-stay back!" He shouts as I see him preparing one of his fireballs.

"Hold it son. There is no need for that." I make sure to keep my voice low and calm. The boy is quivering and looks about to ready to take action. "Now I just want to know why you attacked me." I give the boy a soft smile and start to take to my knee. No need to tower over him and intimidate the boy. For a second I expect the boy to attack as his fireball begins to flare brighter.

"Because your going to take me back to the Circle!" Once again he is going on about this circle.

"Now why would I do that?"

"Because you're a templar! That is what you templars do! You lock us away forever in the towers all because we have magic! It's not right what you people do! It's not!" The boy's cries grew more frenzied as his face began to turn red and tears began to stream down his cheeks. Imprisoned for possessing magic? What kind of strange land was this that they would imprison people with magical talent. It was just… wrong. The notion grated on my sensibilities. Can they not feel the magic within them or was this boy special and these people who lived on this world were bereft of magic. They should not as the magics of Aetherius still existed in this reality.

"Well my son I am not one of those templars that you speak of. Here let me heal you head." I call upon a spell of restoration and move my gauntleted hand towards the boy. The boy jerked his head away from my hand but I need not touch his head as anywhere would suffice and place it on his leg. The restorative magics bounced across the boy charging towards anyplace of injury or even discomfort in its attempts to sooth the pain. Most of the magical sparks rushed towards his head as it was the most grievous and recent wound he had suffered thus far. The boys face lights up in surprise as he attempts to make sense of what I had done.

"You-you used magic! Wha-ho-how?" I once again give the youth a warm fatherly smile.

"The magic of Aetherius is freely given to all that will learn it. From the lowest beggar to the greatest emperor no one is barred from learning about the arcane. The only thing one must have to learn magic is the motivation and initiative, to learn." The boy sputters for a second before his face settles. It seems that the boy has come to his conclusion.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Never mind. I sigh and explain.

"What I mean is that anyone can learn magi-"

"I get that but how? We are born with magic. How can someone without magic be able to learn it, and what is this Aetherius." Oh.

"Well you see… Aetherius is the immortal plane. It is were all magic originates from and where the eight divines originate from…"