E'ermore; Esbern, First Entry.

  • He was saying his daily prayer at the shrine of Talos when it happened. He could see it all though the open canopy of his hideaway in Dead Man's Grotto. The sky tore asunder when the rift opened. A tear in the fabric of time and space left a wound of blue and red that swirled to a deep purple and faded to a black center. So much darkness. A great winged serpent escaped from within. It was as large as any sea vessel; as long as the tales its shipmates tell; its wings were to the likeness of giant sails; its scaled hide was black as the deepest waters and had more thorns than the sea has waves. The return of Alduin; The-World-Eater. "He has come!" Esbern whispered aloud in urgency. He knew what his wide eyes saw. Alduin's Wall foretold as much would happen. The time of dragons in Tamriel has returned.

    The old man knew it wasn't safe beyond the walls of his piece of paradise, with its hanging gardens of ivy and wild flowers; its waterfalls and pond of small fish. Beyond the cavern-like entrance there were those who sought to kill him and his ilk. Her name was Elenwen, First Emissary of the Thalmor and her hundreds of Altmer agents were out there to do her bidding. But there were other dangers now. Greater dangers. And they must be stopped. Esbern put his shoulder against the statue of Talos and pushed. The giant marble figure wouldn't budge from its hollowed stone base. It wasn't this hard to move when I hid them in there. Though that was long ago. Over five and twenty years I'd wager. Esbern gave a great heave against the statue once more but still it would not budge. His Blades armor and Bolar's Oathblade that he found upon the shrine with Acilius Bolar's last written words were now trapped within the hollowed base of the shrine. He would have to find another, but he knew of only one that might still be in existence. Getting to it was a risk, but a risk that had to be taken.

     

    Esbern donned his thin burlap cloak covering his black robes and drew up the hood before he exited his sanctuary by way of the narrow cavern mouth. Leaving the shelter of the low mountain pass under cover of darkness and entering the dangerously open terrain of Whiterun Hold ,he followed the worn cobble road west in the direction of Rorikstead, his old eyes watching for any form of movement along the way. He knew the Thalmor were searching for him and that ever since The Battle of The Red Ring and the signing of the White-Gold Concordant there was an uneasy peace between the Imperials and themselves. Just another obstacle in his path and another way for him to come to an untimely end. Wise as he was, Esburn knew if he traveled by night that either of his enemies would be easy to spot from a distance by the light of their torches. Without a light of his own however, traveling would become slow and tedious, but not tonight. Masser and Secunda risen in a cloudless sky and had lit the rough path ahead of the old fugitive in a dull silver light that cast eerie shadows across the lands. When Esbern came to a crossroads he veered away from the Imperial occupied Rorikstead and took the southern road towards Karthwasten and into the Reach. The Reachmen tribes in the area were vicious and unrelenting and always attacked in numbers. Setting up ambushes or roadblocks near old ruins or abandoned forts, the Forsworn had laid claim to the roadways of the Reach pilfering caravans or killing travelers for whatever they carried on their persons.

    As Esbern approached the pinnacle of the incline in the road, the silhouette of Fort Sungard came into view high upon a mountains cliff against the starry night sky. As he neared, the fort became more and more ominous as it began to loom over him. The great stone manse, cold and black in the night gave the old traveler a wary sense of unwelcoming; he quickened his pace keeping close to the cliff wall and out of sight from any potential tenants as he passed under it. Looking back over his shoulder, Esbern noticed a pair of bodies huddled around a lit brazier atop the forts high walls and judging by the outlines they cast, the figures were garbed in hides and horns. Wildmen, he thought to himself hoping to continue unnoticed. With the fort now behind him, Esbern hurried his way down the hill, a blanket of fog carpeted the valley below him; There he would find his refuge. Esbern entered the thick white mist, shrouded from everyone and everything. This was neither good nor bad. Forsworn would never find him in here, but if he crossed paths with the Thalmor or an Imperial party and was recognized, he was doomed for he could not see others approaching. A stream could be heard tricking up ahead or maybe it was more to his side, he could not be sure but the ambiance kept along with him as he walked his path. After walking blind for a number of hours in the moisture of the dense fog, a light appeared slightly ahead and elevated. As he cautiously neared the light it split into two. Candles, to either side of a sign. He could make that much out as he got ever closer. The building to which it belonged took form through the white wall of fog that encompassed him. The ancient wooden sign read 'Old Hroldan Inn' and depicted a tree with its roots and branches intertwined in a circular Nordic fashion. Esbern recalled the place from some old history he had read years before, but as time fades so does the memory. He peered through a black filmy window an found the structure vacant. Was no one here or was it overrun and occupied by Forsworn tribesmen? He let himself in.

    A fire was dwindling in the hearth, though it hadn't been tended to in hours. Tendrils of smoke rose from it and filled the rafters which had dulled the wooden beams black and grey over the years. Esbern drew up a chair and took a place by the hearth throwing on another few logs from a small pile nearby where he then proceeded to warm his old bones. He pulled back the hood of his damp cloak uncovering his bald spot and grey thinning hair as he was greeted by a tall Nord woman. Her blond hair came to her shoulders and had many thin braids that framed either side of her face. She looked tired though her countenance appeared friendly enough for the early hours of the morning.

    "Welcome to Old Hroldan Inn." she spoke with a sleepy smile upon her face as she tied her serving apron on over her white and brown linen dress. "Can I off you something to eat or some mead perhaps?" the woman offered as she gained Esbern's attention.

    The fire popped and cracked as he rubbed the cold ache from his hands. "A sweetroll and jug of milk would be nice. And a room perhaps." the latter was not a question. Esbern knew he would need to lay low during daylight hours to avoid Thalmor patrols.

    "You'll be wanting to rent Tiber Septim's room I take it?" the Innkeeper assumed.

    "Tiber Septim's room?" the elder questioned the matron.

    "That's right. In the Second Era, Tiber Septim himself led the army that conquered Old Hroldan from the barbarians of the Reach. Septim would later found the Empire that united Tamriel, but his first known battle and victory was right here. And this inn has the very bed that great general slept in on his first night as Old Hroldan's liberator. As good as it was hundreds of years ago."

    "Oh, yes then. Tiber Septim's room then. Thank you madam."

    "My name is Eydis." the woman replied as Esbern paid the tired Nord woman for his meal and room with a handful of silvers. "Have a good rest. It's the big room with the double bed." Eydis looked to her left as she spoke and he followed her gaze to his room.

    Esbern nodded and retired to his rented quarters hanging up his cloak and compiled his few belongings into a chest at the foot of the bed. On a table next to the bed rested a thick orange-covered copy of a book labeled The Battle of Sancre Tor. Esbern had read this particular piece of history a number of times before but opted to read it once more to rest his mind before turning in. It was the story of how General Talos defeated the stronghold of Sancre Tor. A boy appeared in his doorway with is sweetroll and a pitch of milk.

    "Right there on the table is fine." Esbern signaled to the other table in the room with a nod. The child did his duty and left, closing the door behind himself.

    The elder got up to gather his meal and opened to the first page of the book as he picked away at his sweetroll and read.

    In 2E852, allied Nord and Breton forces crossed the borders into Cyrodiil and occupied the major passes and settlements in the Jerall Mountains. Making their headquarters for the winter at Sancre Tor, the Nord-Breton allies dared King Cuhlecain's new general, Talos, to assault them in their mountain fastnesses...

Comments

3 Comments
  • Lucid
    Lucid   ·  June 6, 2015
    Ack... Thanks Lissette. Fixed it. Just another product of my mind typing faster than my fingers.
    Appreciate the correction. Misspelled names would get confusing no doubt.
    Tonight's timed midnight (Central Time Zone) entry is a gooder. I hope y...  more
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  June 6, 2015
    oh, upon rereading, it is first emissary Elenwen. Unless you've created a new character?
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  June 6, 2015
    Ah good old Esbern. Nicely done.