Thunder rippled through the snowy landscape as the thick crimson light swiftly chased away the shredded remains of blue in the sky. Swords clashed, steel and silver against the granite-hard daedric, heavy armored boots struggled to find purchase on the snow, molten in places by the heat of the Gates nearby. Blood sprayed fountain-like onto the slippery, sludge-like mixture of snow, mud and ashes as the soldiers of Cyrodiil stood their ground, the blows landing on their bodies ticking away the time left until utter defeat or bitter victory.

The vision shifted, diving into the flaming, rippling surface of the largest gate, chaotically sliding in between the spiky towers shooting up like daggers into the blood-stained sky. Hidden securely between a pair of gigantic gates stood the tallest tower of all, crowned with a radiating yellow light. A menacing siege machine with an inferno blazing in its mouth crawled slowly but steadily towards the looming Great Gate.

A figure, dark-clad and miniscule, sprinted across the bridge connecting two of the smaller towers. The figure skidded to a halt and turned, facing the dremora at its heels. It parried a crushing blow, staggering dangerously close to the edge of the narrow bridge, and kicked at the dremora, sending it toppling over into a hundred-foot fall.

The figure was now stumbling up a walkway hugging the inside of the great tower, limping with every step, a dremora arrow embedded in its upper leg. Its breath came in ragged gasps as its trembling hands sought support on the walls. The black armor was full of tears and rips, many growing patches of red. The cherry-red eyes had the haunted look of a chased animal to them, the bluish skin and the already red hair were matted with layers upon layers of blood, both its own and that of its enemies. Its features had the slightly angular look of elven heritage to them; arching eyebrows, somewhat slanted eyes, high, wide cheekbones, ordinary lips and an upturned nose with a very gentle bump on the bridge, far less pronounced than what was typical of the Dunmer.

The figure was now taking torturous steps to the brightly glowing orb several very long feet away. It stumbled, stretching across the floor, but miraculously, in a very slow, painful effort, rose up again, finally tearing the Great Sigil Stone away from its resting place atop the dais. The figure then collapsed, cradling the stone against the blood gushing wound in its chest as laces of flames ate away at the surroundings, each wave bringing more and more destruction and mayhem, the granite-hard walls crumbling and the dais ripped from the chains that held it up, a column of fire shooting up into the sky, the spine-like stairs ground into dust-...

"For Lord Dagon!"

Very abruptly, the vision gave way to an alternate reality, that of an assailant kicking open the heavy doors, intricate black armour glinting in the candlelight, the mace flashing as it struck down a guard. Behind it, several of its comrades battled four desperate Blades. The figure approached, then pounced, its masked face leering with eternal glee, the mace rushing forward to land the first and final blow.

The assassin fell, toppling majestically onto the luxurous carpet. A shimmering red momentarily veiled its body, then cleared, exposing a hooded figure clad in burgundy robes, the armor and weapon vanished without a trace. A throwing axe was embedded between its shoulder blades.

Retrieving her axe, Renault drew closer, followed by the remaining two Blades, the fourth lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

"Your Highness, you cannot stay here. We need to get you to a more secure location." Her voice was strained, but never lost the air of calm efficiency. Renault always kept a cool head, it seemed. "Our men are staging several distractions to aid your escape. We will take you through the secret passage leading out of the city." Her voice still held the respectful deference, but she never even pretended to ask for his permission. Emperor or not, keeping him safe was her duty and she preferred not to invite a direct order telling her otherwise. "Glenroy, check up ahead. Baurus, you take point."

Glenroy and Renault left the room, blades out and ready for any other unpleasant surprises the day had yet to offer. With Baurus behind him, Uriel followed, glancing wistfully at the dead Blade. Many more would die before this was over... And some would have an even higher price to pay.