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Arc 8 Chapter XXIII: The Revolutionary's Rise
🕑 Added 2024-11-01 21:06:53 +0000 UTC(General POV)
While the aristocrats and monstrosities of the capital were scheming and making deals on the fate of numerous thousands, the impoverished lands of the Westweald were finally approaching their boiling point. Below the calm exterior of the once mighty vineyard rich city of Skingrad, a movement that would shake the world was taking form.
Or at least those were the thoughts of the one currently walking down its once-splendorous streets.
A blonde man dressed in the vestments of a wealthy merchant that could pass him as a lower noble strode through the residential district of his home city, the once majestic manors he admired in his youth were replaced with what could generously be referred to as a shanty town, the utter ruination the Thalmor brought with their invasion scarring the city permanently as every brick and board was stolen and used for their war effort, the city walls fared no better, the once mighty stone bulwark now replaced with a palisade growing out of the foundation of ruined rock.
The invaders did not even need the resources, as he learned later in his life, the Altmer commander merely found the act satisfying.
Even the Great Chapel of Julianos in the distance looked to be just that tiny bit less awe inspiring at that particular thought, its once reassuring presence merely serving to remind him of everything they had lost.
"It will all change soon." Ceix Dives muttered to himself as his right hand clutched at the pommel of his rapier, the long blade feeling oddly heavy today.
He made his way across one of the bridges connecting the two halves of the city, the small unnavigable river Strid flowing underneath being one of the only things in this city not marred by the war.
The few guards keeping watch on the bridge, all of them clad in very high quality armor, glared at him but he simply ignored them, knowing they would do nothing, not yet at least.
Ceix was a thorn in their employer's side for a long while now but the resourceful young man had managed to insert himself as something of a popular leader in the city, and any kind of attack on his person would no doubt lead to nothing short of a riot, which was far more trouble than the greedy and paranoid Count would be willing to deal with.
Thinking of the count, Ceix instinctually turned his stare to the distant towers of Castle Skingrad, the structure was unfortunately outside the city and the only one that had been quite thoroughly repaired ever since the war, entirely guarded by experienced and more importantly highly expensive mercenaries, every single one of them hired from outside the Westweald.
All the money their honored lord stole had to go somewhere after all.
Shaking his head at the empty thoughts, the Colovian man kept walking before he drew too much attention, he had a meeting to attend later and he would need to center himself, lest he jeopardize everything he had worked towards for years now.
The residents of the more commercially focused northern half of the city greeted him happily as he passed, the accursed Count had not yet managed to squeeze the cheer out of them but that was only a matter of time to Ciex's skeptical mind.
And how could he not be skeptical? His very parents were 'accidented' the moment they started speaking ill of the cowardly bastard who all but sold them into slavery a bit over two decades ago.
Ceix was six back then.
No, this peace, and whatever false hope was being preached in the capital would not save them. No divine heroes would aid them in their plight, not now or ever.
He almost hesitated when he first heard of it all, a Dragonborn hero of legend appearing in the world, prophesized to fight the world's ills and make it all a better place!
He almost wanted to hope, almost felt his convictions waver for a moment, before the teachings of his predecessors and his closest allies directed him back to his goal, his resolution once more firm as steel.
Ceix had experienced the utter depravity with which the nobles of the capital considered the issues of the 'provincials' the very school he afforded with his inheritance placing him beside the selfsame privileged bastards consuming the wealth of the land without creating anything themselves.
He knew the bastards would drain anyone willing to actually fight for them of their will, blessed by the gods or not. The people could no longer wait for changes to come to them, they would instead take it into their own hands!
Preoccupied by his reminiscence as he was, Ceix barely noticed himself reaching his current residence. Rosethorn Hall, once belonging to a family of Nords from Bruma, had somehow managed to survive the destruction of the Thalmor, even if just barely.
There were even rumors that the manor was cursed in some way which is the reason why they avoided it but Ciex couldn't truly wrap his head around it all. Or more like he refused to do so, it was a fortuitous opportunity he would use, risks or not.
Ceix and his allies had, after a long time, managed to bribe and steal their way into owning the place, Cantilla and her teacher somehow managing to procure everything necessary without any alarm being raised.
The manor now served as an unofficial town hall, where the people gathered silently to express their grievances and coordinate between themselves. Even a marriage or two between those not tolerated by the Count and his pet priest was held within.
That Ferontius had not yet torn the building down and thrown them into chains just went to show how far they had managed to reach with their influence, and soon they would reach even further.
Ceix lightly pushed the door open, immediately closing it behind him as he was greeted with the familiar loud snores of his best friend and unofficial right hand.
The dark green skinned orc with only a ponytail for hair was exactly where he expected him to be, leaned back in an uncomfortable wooden chair gifted to him by one of the local apprentice woodworkers and snoring loudly with his eyes open.
"Lorain." Ceix called out lightly, the snoring dying out immediately.
The orc's eyes did not move however, merely focused ever so slightly as they met his own "You are back already kid?" The voice was just a tad softer than the noise stones made when ground against one another "How did it go?"
"He agreed to come." Ceix nodded "We had to keep the meeting short, just in case his presence was missed."
"Still don't know why we are dealing with one of Ferontius' lackeys." The orc grunted, the armor he refused to stop wearing for even a moment clanking and creaking as he got up "Still, you trust him to not betray us?"
"Aloncius has suffered just as much as everyone, he even looked malnourished for Aetherius' sake!" Ceix answered firmly but softly "He did not seem so beat down that he would not be able to fight for his future."
"I am still keeping an eye on him." Lorain growled and the two of them began walking, the orc speaking after a few moments "That reminds me, the tree humper visited earlier."
"Did he bring the weapons as he promised?" The Imperial immediately asked.
"Yes." The orc nodded "Three cart's worth of bows and spears, he only managed a few enchanted ones, said smuggling in any more would have alerted the Castle Wizard."
"Something is better than nothing." Ceix hid his disappointment, things would go so much smoother if he could get his hands.
"You work with what you have, kid." Lorain grunted and patted him on the back "Now how about we go for a spar to let loo-"
"Oh Ceix~" A flirtatious voice reaches their ears, said Colovian's expression growing embarrassed while Lorain's face twisted into a snarl of disgust.
"H-hello there" He awkwardly waved at the human-blooded Altmer woman who just appeared in front of the two of them, not pausing for even a moment under the orc's growl as she slid into Ceix's grip and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Cantilla." Lorain cleared his throat though still failed to keep the growl out of his following question "You already finished?"
The now named Altmer blinks as if she had just remembered the orc's existence and turns to him with a cheerful smile, one that did not fool the orc for a moment "Oh yes, teacher and I managed to secure access to the sewers, no one will trouble us when the time comes~."
"Now, where was I?" She said with a purr and turned to where Ceix was a moment ago, her whole face twitching with pretend surprise as she 'realized' he was no longer there.
Her face formed a pout as she crossed her arms like a disappointed child "So many years yet he is still so very shy~"
"Keep your hands off him." Lorain growled as he suddenly loomed over her "He may not see you for what you are but I know, and I will not let you touch a hair on his head."
"So very suspicious." She covered her mouth with a titter, even as her eyes sharpened threateningly. Each wanted to kill the other but neither was willing to get on Ceix's bad side, for one reason or another.
"Leave." The orc's tusk were almost touching her face as he leaned in with a murderous look.
"Oh fine." The young woman sighed, her stance not relaxing even a bit "You are no fun."
She danced away, a haunting tune about a sweet mother that carried a deranged tint reaching Lorain's ears as the imposing orc's instincts yelled at him to just crush the little monstrosity's head between his hands.
He kept himself under control however, and merely shivered in discomfort, mentally reaffirming his oath to protect his friend and guide.
'It is all for the cause.' He reassured himself even as his hand gripped the hilt of his side sword 'The moment we achieve it her head will fly, and that of her vile teacher as well.'
The echo of deranged laughter poked at his memory but he firmed his will and stepped outside, a good exercise would help him steel himself, and those brats passing as recruits needed some survival instinct beaten into them.
---
While his two closest companions were dreaming of murdering each other, Ceix had retreated into his private study, the constant low noise of the hall disappearing as he closed the door behind him.
Finally graced with a moment of silence, he let out a long sigh of relief. He knew damn well that Cantilla did what she did on purpose, and because he made it fun with his reactions but some things just could not be resisted...
Shaking his head, he approached one of the shelves, removing a book on economics and pulling out an almost tattered featureless booklet from behind it he took a seat.
The book was unassuming, looking like it would serve better as kindling than as any actual source of enlightenment but Ceix knew the treasure hidden within.
This was the book which changed his life, an accident he stumbled upon in the school he attended, hidden behind knowledge of lesser significance, a relic of a past age long since forgotten.
With a solemn look on his face he carefully put on a silken glove and gently flipped the first page, a prayer and an oath already on his mind as he began reading the teachings of the greatest revolutionary of them all.
------
(Alor's POV)
"Supplies?" My lord asked in a slightly bored tone, the savior of my race slumped on his chair with his legs atop an enchanted table.
Because of course it was enchanted.
"Prepared." I answer non the less, propriety isn't something people of true power actually cared for as I've found "We have enough to last us for months."
Lord Dagoth rose a singular eyebrow before shrugging and likely waving the information off in his mind "Overkill is better than going underequipped I suppose, and I did give you a generous budget." He tilted his head in thought, the act looking rather unnatural as he righted himself a split second later "You could always use it to bribe people into dying for you as well so there is that."
'A fair point' I thought, already noting it down mentally "And what about you my lord?" I couldn't help but ask "Will you be... content?" Asking him if he would be alright would be downright insulting "With the vast majority of your guard detail missing?"
He lets out a light snort "Don't worry yourself about that, I will just ask Titus or Minthara for help when necessary. It isn't like I have much to hide... Well beside the portal of course."
'Ah, that.' I held back a light wince. Ally or not, I doubted the Emperor would appreciate permanent portals in his capital not under his command, though I sincerely doubted any genuine censure would before my lord.
What he did not know would not harm him, is what I settled on.
"Anyway." Lord Dagoth waved the topic away "Hassildor will be waiting for you on the western bridge of the City Isle, he managed to hire about a hundred or so competent Fighter's Guild members and will probably be bringing some of his own bloodline."
"Pardon the interruption my lord." I cleared my throat before he could go on, knowing he did not mind it in situations such as these "But what am I to do if I find the Count of Skingrad not worth deposing?"
He considered my words for a moment before giving me a look of approval mixed with only slight exasperation "He has failed to bring his city into something resembling order for over two decades." A damning sentence in and of itself in the lands of Morrowind from what I knew "Unless he is a literal saint we've just happened to misunderstand simply getting rid of him and replacing him with someone we know we can rely on is the superior option."
"That and Hassildor isn't stupid enough to cross me." His eyes darkened before brightening again as he went on "The situation we find ourselves in does not allow us to be universally fair to everyone, Alor. We will ruin lives of the undeserving no matter what we do but we will do so knowing that the fruits of our work will be far grander than the rest will be able to achieve."
The kernel of doubt that threatened to fester in my heart died a silent death.
He leaned in, somehow looming over me even while seated "We will make this shithole a better place for everyone, mark my word." His serious expression twisted into a light smirk "Now go forth and bring me victory."
'Always one for dramatics.' I couldn't help but chuckle inwardly as I bowed and offered my oath to see my orders fulfilled.
Within mere hours, just as the sun had begun to set, I had met up with Paladin Anondor and the Sworn Mer and we marched out of the district, our lord's expectant eyes on our backs the entire way.
(Reyvin's POV)
Turning away from my soldiers, my eyes zeroed in on a suddenly startled Minthara who had managed to enter my study with appreciable silence "Trying to sneak up on me, really?" I deadpan.
"It is good practice." She excused herself immediately.
I was just about to continue with our usual banter but she stopped me by raising a large wooden box that looked to be ornately carved "I brought gifts!"
"Gifts?" I quirked an eyebrow, she sounded rather excited "What kind of gifts."
She did not answer but instead began unpacking what I quickly realized was an impressively complex war game.
Skin-what?
