Lord of Order

From the far flung Druadach mountains to the deep shattered pits below morrowind, the Falmer send their best and their brightest to the dark city of blackreach. Within their cracked and dusty halls, they vie for favor and work to win approval among their fellows as they each seek to take the title of snow prince. Many, too many for your liking, see it as nothing but a great honor, a title claiming them as the greatest of the snow elves in their resurgent glory, but it is far, far more than that.
Whoever is crowned prince and bestowed with the crown and spear will inevitably shape Falmer society as their decrees and demands shape the backbone of what they are to become. Their words and deeds be remembered and set a precedent for everything that shall come. You need to ensure that whoever is chosen is one that shall lead the Falmer on a path you deem suitable. You spend some short time inspecting each of the many candidates, weeding out those you deem worthless or a hinderance, from there weighing the pros and cons of every would be princeling.
In the end you find four candidates you believe have a true chance of leading the Falmer to something greater. They may not be the grandest among them, throwing around silver and jewels to every passerby to gain favor, nor do they have great feats behind them to propel them forward, but their will, their wisdom, and their ideas shall drive them to new heights if only they had the means to do so.
Idheyor Agtan, a warrior of the Falmer tribes settled around the grey pools of the Marich caves, is one of these candidates. She and her tribe perhaps retain the most aspects of their betrayed culture, having little opportunity to make use of their undegraded minds. Agtan, despite their more primitive upbringing, has perhaps the greatest mind for war and battle among the Falmer, and has proved herself competent in matters of leadership beyond the battlefield. Her plans for the Falmer involve the creation of new clans among the Falmer and having them spread across the mountains and create conclaves, similar to the orcish strongholds. She plans for the speed of this migration to outpace the response of the locals, keeping them from forming a coordinated response. It would be a blatant and explosive return, but that may be the fastest way for them to become an accepted part of the world.
Sibor Caerlen, the self proclaimed scholar of blackreach, perhaps has the opposite plan for the Falmer. Rather than such an explosive return, he would have them expand what they already have, and take what's been abandoned. He would have them follow the path the dwemer took, building their civilization belowground thanks to the aid of technology. Of course his immediate plans are more to take advantage of what the dwemer left behind, migrating to their old cities and studying their machines. It's a controversial plan, for obvious reasons. The hatred of the dwemer has imprinted itself onto the very souls of the Falmer, but if they would make the dwemers legacy theirs who knows what they could accomplish.
Then there is Redhmor, a witch, a sage, and an arrogant bastard. He would have the Falmer delve into the magical arts, to seek a mastery of the ice and wind as they had in ages long past. With the powers and secrets of magic at their beck and call they could rise in power quickly, as the telvaani and bretons had. He claims that mere strength and technology have failed men and mer and beast far more than magic ever has. It cannot break as a sword, it cannot rupture as a pipe, and it has so many more possibilities than either.
Lastly is the priest Syryic of the vale. While he isn't allowed in the chantry, as all the remade Falmer aren't, he finds himself before its doors daily, praying so that all the falmers gods, yourself included, may hear him. He calls for the Falmer to embrace their gods with a full heart, to seek them for the guidance that was lost to them long ago. He preaches for the Falmer to hear, asking of them to seek the blessings of deities long thought lost, to rebuild their temples and mend their shrines. It would perhaps give them the favor of the aedra, and empower yourself as well, but that may prove a risk as the aedra may turn their eyes towards you, and their faith act as a beacon to attract the daedra.
You make your decision, whispering in the ear of the one you choose and their followers and detractors, influencing them enough to elect your chosen.
[] The warrior Agtan
[] The scholar Caerlen
[] the Witch Redhmor
[] the Priest Syryic
---
Kasur Aurenon, you find yourself writing with your back to the warm metal wall of the towers interior, a draft of air washing over you from the damaged exterior wall. It seems in the fighting before you arrived someone had managed to fire upon the tower, breaching it and leaving the large ball made of some dark metal in the other side of the rooms wall. At least the hole gives you some reprieve from the heat and shows you the progress you've made, now close to its peak.
Jyggalags ally continues to provide some support, mostly material as you've no need for warriors currently. Water, food, and a handful of tools being used by the pawns. He had also sent you a strange ring, one side of it made from a bright amber and the other a dark, almost green metal. A letter attached says it would help you against any Daedric influence, though given its source you can't say you trust it. For now you've simply pocketed it.
The pawns are hammering away at a sealed hatch with picks, axes, and hammers as they try to breach it. The damage caused to this room apparently caused the hatch to seal, and you've found no other way to progress. A small handful of the pawns are seeking other methods of opening it, finding a key in the lower parts of the tower or finding a way around it. Two even try to find a way up from the hole in the room, building some simple scaffolding and trying to build a way upwards.
The pawns requested, quite convincingly, that you sit and rest. They aren't affected by the towers heat and can more easily do this harder work, and you didn't have the energy to or desire to argue. You find yourself writing in your journal, sweat dripping from your head onto the pages, about everything you've seen so far. You write some letters to friends and allies on nirn, as well as a letter to a smith to see if they would happen to want a large ball of unknown metal, but otherwise merely write to keep yourself focused.
You pray to the divines that you may find the path to the towers peak soon, and from there a long reprieve from the Daedra's work, though something tells you that it's unlikely. These prayers are interrupted as the pawns suddenly start a short round of cheer, something new as far as your aware. You look up as one approaches you and excitedly points to the corner of the door where it's been peeled away. The pawns are using their picks and whatever they can grab to pry it further and further. You rise as they work at the opening, eventually making it large enough for one person to enter at a time.
The pawns look at you expectantly, waiting for you to give an order or do something. "One of you, get the pawns from the scaffolding and send them to the lower levels to collect those still searching. The rest will follow me. We haven't met any enemies yet but keep your hands close to your weapons."
They follow you as you pass through the crack, finding a familiar web of pipes and metal, but just above there is a mesh of metal that you easily remove. You climb up, helped by a pawn, and you are struck by the sudden change in temperature. Where once there was sweltering heat there's now an almost freezing chill. This level of the tower is almost empty, aside from some machinery at its center and old, spent candles littering the floor. You wait for the pawns to gather around you before approaching it, weapons drawn.
You wish sometimes you were more learned, knew more of the world around you, but you doubt any knowledge from nirn would help you understand what you see before you. Compared to the rest of the tower it seems like it is designed to be interacted with, various knobs and buttons on the machines surrounding a metal dome, slits in which steam or mist rises. You are drawn to the machines, seeking to see what the various buttons, levers, and dials do, but the moment your hand touches the metal, that voice that rang out across the city speaks out. "Human male, followed by two dozen uncatalogued Daedra. Likely a Daedra worshiper or chosen. Intent unknown."
With some surprise you realize the voice didn't sound out from the Aether as it seemed to do before, but rather it came from underneath that metal dome. The pawns surround it with spears raised, ready in case whatever's in there is dangerous. You turn back to the machines buttons, beginning to randomly press buttons, hoping for something that can reveal what this thing is for. Eventually one of the buttons has an effect, the dome splitting down the middle, each half receding into the floor. A veil of mist rises where it splits, and you ready yourself with the pawns as it begins to thin.
When that cold mist is gone, you find a corpse. A mummified dunmer, half of its head encased of some kind of ceremonial headpiece, wearing a kind of ceremonial robe. Its lower half is gone, various bits of tubing going into its lower half, with wires and smaller tubes going into various other parts of its body. You look closer at its mask, hoping to see if something there could tell you who this is, though you have your suspicions. That's when you see it. The eye of the mask, looking directly at you, following your movements.
"You are not one of my followers, and you have not been granted permission to enter my core. State your purpose or leave, before I set a host of automata to remove you." it says, mouth unmoving. There's only one person, one god this could be. You breathe in and prepare yourself. "I am a representative of jyggalag, Lord Sotha Sil. I was sent here to explore this tower, and now I've found the Secret he wanted." The gods mechanical eye stares at you a moment before looking upwards. "All you have found is a corpse. A man turned into the engine of this world by his followers. I doubt your lord would have much interest in that."
The corpse god continues to stare into nothing, before his eye slowly drifts back towards you. "Go then. Find your lord and tell him he will be allowed to enter and that I wish to speak with the grey prince. Either he will come as friend or foe, and I have neither the power nor desire to fight him." The machines near him hum louder with power, and you see a platform extend from the ground. An exit of some sort. With your mission complete you and the pawns are free to leave, and you are more than happy to leave this place.
What shall jyggalag do with this discovery?
[] Meet with the clockwork god. You hadn't expected him to still live, even in this debased form. What he has to say could be useful, or at the very least interesting enough the hear.
[] with his invitation into the realm it would be easy to simply snuff out what little light he has left and take over.
[] write in
---
Once again you step out into the wastes of oblivion, seeking out something that may prove a boon to your efforts. The difference this time is that you have something specific you want to find, this lost piece of clavicus's realm, the Fields of Regret. Vile has his own forces out searching like packs of hunting dogs, Barbas leading the search. It makes your own search more complicated as you'll need to evade their hunting parties, but if they're anything like their master you have little to worry about in terms of their competence.
Your search begins simple enough, searching near the fields for any sign of where it may have gone. You can't risk going into the fields, clavicus would find you and know who you are almost immediately, but the surrounding area gives you just enough to go off of. Shattered pieces of the fields litter the surrounding hell scape. Patches of grass and grain, shattered glass and metal, when this piece of the realm broke off it did not do so smoothly or peacefully, it tore itself away like an animal desperately escaping a cage, not caring what it lost in the process. While the pieces lay everywhere, you notice they lead in a northernly direction, towards the remnants of the red towers presence on oblivion, possibly seeking to lose their pursuers in the midst.
Whoever controls this wayward land knows how clavicus would react. One of his Daedra? One of his many spurned champions? It's hard to say at this point, but it gives you an idea of where they would go, where they know clavicus wouldn't poke his nose. Since a certain betrayal at the hands of nocturnal in the second era clavicus has held onto a grudge against her. A petty one, as betrayal between the princes is as common as anything else, but clavicus is nothing if not petty. So, if you were trying to hide from him, her doorstep is exactly where you would go.
So you travel to the edges of the evergloam, where shadow hangs like a fog over all, and reach out to see if you can feel where this floating island may be. Sight means nothing here, so close to the evergloam, so every other sight must be used. Listen for the creaking of Viles glass towers, smell the lavender and rosemary that covers over the scent of rot and brimstone. Feel the slight thrum of divine power, distinct from that of Nocturnals that permeates the area. It shines as a dim candle within this dark expanse, a beacon for you to follow.
You approach it, slowly. With sight limited as it is you have no wish for your first interaction with the island and its denizens to be ramming into its side. Your slow drift towards is eventuallt rewarded with the feeling of dead foiliage brushing against your outsretched hands. Beneath this layer of decaying plant life you feel hard stone, an edge of this island. You will yourself to rise along its side, searching for a ledge for you to stand on so that you may properly enter this sliver of a realm and meet its owner.
Soon your feet find purchase on a small outcropping of cobbled stone, a road or path torn apart with the islands seperation. You look forward, tracking the small flickering hint of divinity, close to the center of the island. With nothing else to serve as a waypoint in this shadowed city you continue your approach. These streets once held far more life, both plant and daedra, both laying dead along its path. The plant life makes sense, the lands beyond the planes hardly a suitable place for non native life though some strange trees still stand defiant, but for the skaafin their end was far more bloody.
Many have had limbs sliced off, gaping holes as a result of impalement, a few even seem to have died as a result of blunt trauma. If there was an invasion force it doesn't seem any of them died. If it was a single individual who did this then your guard must remain up. Eventually you find yourself able to see the outline of a large building, not ornate to be a palace, more like a manufactory or workshop. Just outside you see a daedra speaking with two dunmer.
The daedra, the source of that divine spark, is unlike any you've seen before. It is in the shape of a man, one made of roiling darkness. The dunmer seem to be desperately listening to his words, worry on their faces, being coerced by the shadowy daedra if you had to guess. They are the first to notice your presence, their eyes drifting towards you as the daedra speaks. "-nium must be perfect, unless you want clavicus to return to us and wreak a bloody vengeance. Well, more likely Barbas doing the actual wreaking. Now, why do you stand slack jawed when you should be working.?" it says before noticing where they were looking and turning to face you, drawing their blade, a black and silver claymore,
"It seems i hadnt killed all of viles peons. Though you resemble no skaafin I had seen before, some freak he swayed to his gardens perhaps?" he begins to slowly walk around you counter clockwise, sword pointed your direction, straight towards your heart. His eyes, though theyre more like deep pits into an abyss. "I am no follower of the prince of wishes. I pity any who would believe doing so Is a good idea. Now let me ask you. Who are you that carries a spark of princedom, who steals a shard of viles realm?"
A smile creeps onto his face. "I am the one and only Umbra. A greater being than vile ever was, more worthy of his divinity and his realm than he could ever hope to be. And trust me, i shall take it from him. Now, I am a merciful being, so if you swear yourself to me you may just gain a piece of that power for your-" its at that point you flex your divinity in front him, releasing just enough power so that he can feel just how eclipsed he is by you.
His words are caught in his throat, the expression of confidence leaving his face, though to his credit he at least keeps his sword pointed at your heart. "...Ah. I see. So, you are a prince. Okay. That changes things." He stands still now, the two dunmer looking between the two of you then slowly stepping back into the warehouse and closing the doors behind him.
This creature is ornery, arrogant, and needs to be reminded of their place before talking to you. "I am Jyggalag, lord of order and gray prince. I sought you out to sake my curiosity and I admit I did not anticipate finding something like you, a shard of power, similar to Viles own but too similar to be a coincidence. I expect you to tell me what you are now before I show you what a true prince can do."
It glares at you with the abysses it has for eyes, but eventually looks away after a few moments. "I am Umbra. Clavicus, ever the fool, once sought to make a sword that would send the souls of its slain to him. Of course he can never do anything for himself, so he sought out the witch Naenra. She made him the blade he sought, but to make it work right, to bring him souls and to have the power to do so, it needed a piece of his being.
I am that piece. I've sought my freedom from that bumbling fool since my creation, and only recently have I been able to free myself thanks to yet another of his failures. Had the dunmer sacrificing souls to him to keep that meteor of his in the sky, but he never thought to keep anything from getting out either. When the meteor fell I took my chance, stealing away so he could no longer control me, taking a chunk of the realm I was more deserving of, even stole the elves he used to keep the rock aloft." He says, only just now noting the absence of the elves, giving only a brief scan of the area for where they went.
Hmm. You had never foreseen vile doing something so foolish, though he's done similar in the past when he split of half his power and conscience within Barbas. This umbra does possess a piece of princedom to him, that is undeniable, and he carries that stench of Viles with him, so his story holds enough weight for you to believe it. "So, mister mysterious prince I haven't heard of, are you going to leave, or do you expect some kind of tour?" He's reclaimed some of his backbone, or at least is pretending to do so. But he does raise a point. What shall you do with this princeling?
[] kill him and take that piece, and this realm, for your own.
[] a proto Daedric prince you could lord your power over could be useful. Let him live but force him to be your subordinate.
[] if his power could be cultivated, if he could gain power and domains of his own, he could make for a great ally, a member of this pact you have with sheogorath.
[] write in.
---
Despite the many ongoings of the planes, you've found yourself with enough time to write more volumes of your library. You move from the founding of the first empire to the last recorded migration of the Atmorans, the original continent of man. Little is known about the land, and no matter how many tomes and scrolls on the topic that Dyus can retrieve for you, none truly tell of what happened.
For centuries these ancestors to the nords and imperials raided the northern continent. They took anything and everything they could and often would take the very land, settling over the graves of their enemies and even becoming the targets of Atmoran raids themselves. However, these raids both increased in severity of how much they took but also decreased in their frequency up until the year E1 68.
The reason for this change in raids came with their last "invasion". Two ships packed with the dead and dying beached themselves on the cold coasts, desperately pleading for sanctuary from the ever growing frost and winter. Later archeological expeditions proved this, finding a land of ice without any sign of life, past or present. That doesn't, however, answer what happened to cause this deluge of ice.
There shouldn't have been any ecological calamity like that according to your old calculations, and you can find little natural reason for such a thing to happen. Were the atmorans targeted, did more than that last ship survive, perhaps seeking out the other continents? Its more and more for you to write, to account for in your calculations, but slowly, ever so slowly, your library grows as you research and deduce what has and should happen.
---
The college, winterhold, and much of Skyrim now finds itself in a state of severe unrest after the destruction of Red Mountain. The dunmer even now flood into the continent as those who thought to survive in the blighted land now find themselves invaded by the argonians. Some flee to the imperial city, seeking to beg them for help, to have them send the legions to stop the argonians and preserve the houses, but the council can do little but request of the argonians leadership to halt their attacks, a request easily ignored.
Without a home to return to these dunmer create shanty towns where they can, and in winterhold it is little different. Little caldera as its been called has seen no end to its strife, as the less neighborly nords place the blame for the red year on them, blaming them for the failure of the crops, for the ash in the air, for any problem that comes their way. Your followers, meanwhile, have seen this as an opportunity. They help the dunmer as best they can, in the name of an organization they called the House of Alms.
They provide the refugees food and aid, work where its available, in the name of helping these poor fellows, but it's true purpose is twofold. One, it is an organization they can all be part of so their continued interaction with the other members of the cult is seen with less suspicion, as well as granting themselves some clout within the city. Two, it allows your followers to scout for new members of the church. They plant the ideas in their minds that their old gods failed them, and perhaps they should seek more benevolent deities, with just the slightest hints towards you as that new god to follow.
It's a slow and passive thing, but already they've been approached by representatives of the jarl to act as intermediaries for him in certain situations. Hopefully, even once this is over, the House of Alms might have some purpose.
---
With the debates over who should be crowned and armed the snow prince, little has gotten done in the vale lately. The local leaders have made some attempts to speak with the ice giants, but they prove surprisingly hard to find for creatures of their size. More and more of the apprentices flow in and out of the vale, bringing what talents they can back to be taught to the others, and overall it goes well, though they lack some of the material to make use of this knowledge. No rivers that power a mill nor the resources to create one that can sustain the winds. One day, perhaps, they could train the chaurus to act as pact animals, though they fare poorly out in the cold of the vale. Still, progress is progress and theirs is still respectable.
---
With the pact with Sheo you can have him do an action for you, still rolling for it of course, or give +25 to a roll

What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one
The red year is active for two more turns
[] The dunmer gods: the dunmer are currently without home or sanctuary, abandoned by the tribunal and the empire. Were you to aid them, you may gain many followers among them. Only available while the red year is active. Dc:45

[] the invasion of the argonians: With their ancient enemies weakened by the eruption of red mountain the argonians of black marsh have declared a war of vengeance upon the dunmer, bringing their full fury upon whoever remains in morrowind. Aid the dunmer, and you would not only help preserve morrowind, but to earn the favor of the dunmer. Only available while the red year is active. DC 55

[] The gifts of man: many artifacts already litter the lands of Skyrim, one needs only look. Of course, looking doesn't mean you would have the artifact for yourself, you would still need to send someone to collect it, but if you could find something you could imbue with your will, spreading your influence would be all the easier. DC65

-the higher the roll the better the item you find.

[] The guard: in finding the student who had committed the black sacrament your followers within the guard have risen in rank. If they could continue to do so and perhaps recruit others within the guard, you would have far greater influence within the city itself. Dc:75

[] write in. up to qm discretion

---

What shall your champion do?


[] Hunt down the brotherhood, phase one: while the brotherhood exists all over Tamriel, you want them gone from at least Skyrim. Send your champion to snuff out their presence. Dc60

[/] Hunt for an artifact: There's many artifacts on Nirn unclaimed by any gods. Were you to discover one, you could send the champion to collect it. Dc55

-Needs an artifact to hunt
[] Let him pursue his own goals: Kasur has goals of his own. Let him pursue them and perhaps grow stronger from the effort. There is no dc, just a roll to see how things went for your champion.

[] Investigate the Thalmor: you know that the Thalmor have plans that would cause chaos on Nirn, but their end goals still elude you. send your champion to investigate Alinor and disrupt their plans. Dc65

[] write in
---
What shall you do in oblivion?

[] Conquest. While your power is diminished, it would not be impossible to find some corner of oblivion held by a weaker Daedra for you to take for yourself. So long as you don't make too much noise, none would assume you were there. DC60

[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC70

[] Seek out the other planes. Many are the planes of oblivion, and many are their occupants. You know enough of your kin to know where to avoid, so you could find allies or a realm ripe for the taking. DC70

-the higher the roll, the better plane you find

[] Find allies. Without the might you once had, you need allies so that you might not be blindsided. seek others out so you might make an alliance.
-[]who will you seek an alliance with? different Daedra will have different DC's, and you need to seek specific Daedra

[] diplomatic efforts: friends and allies can be difficult to keep, so better to maintain contact so that relations don't break down.

-[] who will you try to improve your relationship with.

[] Write in. up to qm discretion

---

What shall you do in your realm?

[] Creation. more artifacts are always useful. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc75

-[] what shall you make, and what shall it do? Up to qm if your idea would be allowed/ if it's too strong

[] Rebuild your library. Once your library rivaled that of Hermeus mora, you imagine it's the reason he played a part in your downfall. Now you would rebuild it. Gather what tomes you can find in oblivion, and begin the calculations of the future as you once had. Dc 60

[] The crystalline Host. With but 8 knights remaining in your service, you need more to serve you. While it takes a follower with a soul to create a true knight, you may be able to create something lesser that could still serve your purposes. DC70


[] Write in. up to qm discretion
---
Congratulations, you've found two pseudo gods. Sorry for the update being late, writers block is a bitch and a half