3E 389
The Imperial City is alive with activity as the sun begins to set on the annual Midyear's Celebration. Taverns have flung their shutters and doors wide open as throngs of celebrators circulate from the brightly lit interiors, out into the streets, and back in again. Here and there among the multitudes of people small groups of commoners have formed around adventurers, eagerly listening to tales of the heroic deeds accomplished on this day. The smell and taste of roasting pig and bitter ale wafts through the air, luring more than one beggar to the celebration in hopes of receiving a morsel of food. Even the sick, cursed, and injured celebrate joyously, as temples across the city offer blessings and healing at a highly reduced rate as part of the Celebration.
In the Green Emperor Way district, surrounding the Imperial Palace, the celebration continues in a more dignified fashion. Here, minor nobles exchange pleasantries with one another as servants make rounds with trays of delicacies. The setting sun casts an orange glow on the Emperor's gardens, creating a golden aura of warmth which soothes the nerves of the generally edgy dignitaries.
The mirthful atmosphere extends even to the heart of the city, into the Imperial Palace itself. Within the palace's gray-green stone walls Emperor Uriel Septim VII sits in the feasting hall at the head of a long, oaken table. King's, Queens, and Heads of State from each of Tamriel's provinces sit neatly on either side of the table, here to discuss diplomacy as well as partake in the Emperor's fine food and drink. The table is decorated with lit waxen candles held aloft by silver candlesticks, though the true method of lighting is that of the hovering orbs of light conjured by the Palace's magicians. The soft lilt of music, produced by a small band of instrumentalists housed in one corner of the spacious room, echoes throughout the hall.
Sudden laughter rings out across the table following a playful, yet deprecating, comment from King Eadwyre of Wayrest to King Lysandus of Daggerfall regarding a recently imposed tariff by Daggerfall on goods imported out of Wayrest. Interceding before Lysandus has a chance to rise to Eadwyre's baiting, the Emperor stands, still holding his glass, prompting each noble to follow suit and the music to end.
"Thank you all for gathering here with me in celebration of this Midyear. I pray that the Divines have watched over each of you thus far, and that they will continue to do so throughout the remainder of the year." The Emperor then raises his glass slightly above his head and proclaims, "To the peace and unity of Tamriel!"
"Long live the Emperor!" responds the provincial royalty, who then share a sip of wine before following the emperor in retaking their seats. The music once more fills the hall as the dinner party resumes its chattering.
Upon the western wall of the dining hall leans a Breton male adorned in the blue garb of a mage. The Breton is lean, yet well muscled, and his face is composed of sharp features set around blue eyes. His golden blond hair settles upon his shoulders, which are wider than would be expected for a mage. The wall on which he leans is decorated with evenly spaced, stained glass windows, each depicting a previous ruler of the Septim dynasty. The setting sun sheds it's final light through the windows, illuminating the painted figures and casting blobs of colorful shapes upon the floor.
The Breton mage watches the proceedings of the feast carefully, occasionally glancing around the room to be sure that the orbs of light still glow strongly. He let's his gaze settle for a moment on the beautiful Dark Elven queen, Barenziah, and her son, Prince Helseth. The Dark Elf Prince, a boy of thirteen years, shares a name with the Breton mage. The fact that a Breton carries the name "Helseth" is considered odd, as it is distinctively a Dark Elven name. However, though his father was a full-blooded Breton, Helseth's mother was a full-blooded Dark Elf, and she had had her heart set on his name long before he escaped the womb. Besides, it is a powerful name, and one that seems to suit his talents in the arcane arts.
Helseth, the Breton mage, suddenly snaps to attention at the sounds of gasps springing up from the dinner guests. A figure draped in a black cloak had materialized beside the Emperor. Preparing to cast a spell of paralysis on the intruder, Helseth raises his hands and begins the necessary motions to weave the primal energy from his being into the intended spell. As Helseth prepares to release the spell, the figure removes his hood, revealing none other than the Imperial Battlemage, Jagar Tharn. Helseth immediately drops his hands in relief, but continues to watch closely, knowing that Tharn would not interrupt the feast in such an abrupt manner had there not been just cause.
Recognizing the Battlemage as the Emperor's close adviser, the highborn guests retain their calm. Each watch as Tharn stoops slightly, leaning in to whisper to the Emperor while meeting the guests' eyes with a suspicious stare. The smile upon the Emperor's face holds, though his eyes lose the glow of merriment and take on a calculating seriousness as he listens. He too gazes out at the guests, who remain silent, though many fidget nervously in their seats. Within a few seconds Uriel Septim VII gives a slight nod. The Imperial Battlemage straightens and takes a small step to the side, allowing the Emperor to stand and address the table.
"I'm afraid I cannot stay and finish this meal with you all," declares the Emperor in a steady, auspicious tone, "though I would be pleased if you all continued to celebrate this Midyear with the spirit it deserves. When you are ready to retire for the evening, servants will show each of you to your respective rooms. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a small matter I must deal with."
With that, Uriel Septim turns and strides away from the table towards a door to the north, Jagar Tharn following a half step behind. As the Emperor exits the room, Tharn leans in to one of two guards standing on either side of door and gives a whispered command - to which the guard nods. The Imperial Battlemage then exits, leaving the room in a tense atmosphere. Immediately, several guests stand and begin motioning for the servant nearest them, hoping to escape the present tension by being escorted to their private rooms or carriages. Those who remain seated continue to look around at one another nervously. Finally, the Nordic King Thian of the city Solitude breaks the silence.
“You heard his majesty, let the celebration continue!” he shouts, as he reaches across the table to pull free a leg of roasted lamb. Discussion slowly springs up around the table, mostly in excited whispers, about what could have prompted the Emperor to leave so suddenly with so many foreign dignitaries present. It isn't long, however, before the party loses interest in the speculation and falls once more to discussing inter-provincial relations.
Helseth watches the nobles continue to dine and talk as hours pass. One by one, the dinner guests begin to take their leave, some retiring to their rooms while others have servants pack their things onto carriages in preparation for a nighttime departure. Finally, with the dining hall empty of all but the guards and a few scurrying servants, Helseth allows the orbs of light to fall to darkness, leaving only the torches on the walls to shed illumination.
Leaving the now dim dining hall behind, Helseth decides to head for his own room within the Imperial palace. While most mages in the Imperial City call the Arcane University their home, Helseth was not a member of the Mages Guild, and as such was not given admittance there. However, his Father was a minor noble in High Rock, which had given him the chance to study within the Imperial Palace itself, under the tutelage of Jagar Tharn's own senior apprentice, Ria Silmane. He shared this privilege with one other mage, an Imperial named Talin, whom he had easily befriended over the last five years of studying sorcery.
The Mage Quarter takes up only a small portion of one of the upper floors of the palace. A door from the hall leads into a large common room which holds two tables, a fireplace, and bookshelves full of manuscripts and arcane tomes against every wall. The room often smells of incense, which is used to cover up the smell of the more foul creatures summoned within. Breaks in the bookshelves reveal doors on each interior wall. These lead into small, separate living quarters - One for Ria Silmane, one for Talin, and one for Helseth. The rooms hold only the bare necessities of palace life, which fortunately for their inhabitants, include fine clothes and feather beds.
Helseth reaches the Mage Quarter and pulls open the door. He is greeted by the illumination of several permanent light orbs cast by Ria herself, which add a mystical overtone to the already arcane interior. Seeing no sign of his fellow apprentice, nor his instructor, Helseth crosses the room, carefully stepping over several stacks of books organized in piles upon the floor, and enters his private quarters. Pulling the door shut behind him, the Breton pulls of his robe and hangs it on a peg beside a tall dresser. He then slips his sandals off and pulls back the linen blanket tucked into his bed. Finally, an exhausted Helseth climbs into the bed, pulls the blanket past his chest, and closes his eyes, soon falling asleep.
The emperor is betrayed.
Helseth's eyes spring open as a sudden panic jerks him awake. He remembers no dream, but knows he heard the voice of Ria Silmane speak to him. As if to confirm that something was indeed wrong, the sound of a struggle pours into his quarters from the common room. Helseth swiftly tugs the linen blanket off, swings his legs out of the bed, and steps into his sandals. He retrieves his robe from the peg and pulls it over his shoulders whilst opening the door into the common room. Crossing through the center of the room, two imperial guards pull an unconscious Talin towards the hall, scattering the piles of books as they go. Helseth steps out towards the guards, intending to figure out why it is that Talin is being taken away. Instead, a third guard greets him, this one with sword drawn, standing directly to his right, just outside of his room.
"Looks like we won't be making a return trip for the witch's other apprentice after all" says the guard, his voice dripping with poison and his eyes locked with Helseth's. In an attempt to protect himself, Helseth raises his hands to cast a spell, but reacts too slowly as the guard cracks him across the skull with the flat of his blade. Helseth crumples to the floor in unconsciousness.
To be continued... IN TES:1 ARENA!
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