" The ascendance of Tiberius Octum, first of his line, was not the act of a desperate Empire—but the culmination of a sovereignty covenant with the Divine. Through his blood, the Dragonfires were reignited not as mere ritual but as testament: the Empire is the hand of Akatosh upon Mundus. Let the dissidents of Hammerfel murmur, let the Aldmeri Dominion sneer—they owe their existence to the Ruby Throne's endurance. For without the Empire, there is no Tamriel; there is only chaos."
- Excerpt from " The Emperor of Tamriel (4E 203)
Marcellus Blackheart- —Lyrezi Clan Vampire.
The calm waters of the Upper Niben shook quietly as Marcellus's ship glided through them. High above, the night sky greeted Marcellus like the old friend he was. In the distance, ever approaching, stood the White-Gold Tower, the crown of the Imperial City imposing even in the darkest part of the night. Marcellus's eyes caught the giant red dragon gliding through the air, dancing in the sky around its overlord's domains. The old vampire couldn't help but grimace and look away when the dragon looked directly at him, its green eyes pinning him for the predator he was and issuing a challenge Marcellus would never accept; fire was really not good for those like him.
Sooner than Marcellus would like, the Niben became Lake Rumare, and the twenty-mile-long artificial bay known as The Waterfront graced Marcellus's eyes. Marcellus was taken aback by the flurry of activity this late at night; thousands of people were working, unloading, loading, cleaning, and inspecting crates, all under the glow of an unholy number of magelights that illuminated The Waterfront as brightly as day. The hundreds of ships, in which the workers were attending to, made for a fearsome sight; almost all of them were heavy warships with so many magical cannons that Marcellus doubted anything other than a Leviathan could survive half a volley.
"My Lord, we have arrived… The captain will dock soon; however, due to the circumstances, he shall be unable to stay docked in the Waterfront." Wayberd, Marcellus's servant, said, his refined Breton accent draping over the words.
" Good… I alone shall enter the Imperial City." Marcellus began, his voice calm " It's not my desire to draw the northern dragon's eyes to our clan… Entering his city with half a dozen of our brethren will certainly draw not only his eyes but also his legendary ire." Marcellus said, and Wayberd nodded vigorously, his bloodshot white eyes glowing in the dark, giving away his nature.
"Where shall we wait for your return then, my lord?" Wayberd asked.
" You may dock near Fort Virtus; it stands abandoned and it has been so since Empress Morihatha Septim sat the ruby throne and if the bounties are to be believed, it serves as a hideout to an Minotaur…" Marcellus replied, and Wayberd nodded eagerly once more, the unspoken agreement working marvelously in his mind.
When Marcellus finally left his ship, he did so alone, carrying his Alik'r blade and a few important documents. His carefully created fake mannerism allowed him to fool the guards and enter the city. Marcellus walked for almost two hours before he reached his destination, all the joy and marvelment he might've felt at the past emperors' statues or at the Ayleid-Colovian-Nibenay-and-Nord-mangled architecture that formed Tiberius Octum's Imperial City was quickly destroyed by the distant roars of the Winged Hunter flying above him in the sky, clearly watching him from above.
The manor Marcellus was told to enter stood almost hidden in the outskirts of Talos Plaza. It was as unassuming as any other manor in the plaza; the classical Imperial architecture made it almost blend into the city's high walls. The door opened as expected when the old vampire knocked on it in the prescribed rhythm.
The first thing that caught Marcellus's eye was how empty the entrance room was; the second was the two Blades flanking a man sitting in a chair in the middle of the room; the third was the man himself. He had long dark hair braided in Nordic style, blue eyes, and an imperial goatee. He wore simple black mage robes with a single red imperial dragon on its torso, and around his neck rested the Amulet of Kings. There he stood, the fucking emperor of Tamriel, silent and calm, his magicka coiled around him like a massive serpent ready to strike. Never in his almost eight hundred years of undeath had Marcellus met a mage with so much magicka at his disposal; not even the King of Worms or Venus Galerion put together came close, and never in his almost eight hundred years of undeath had Marcellus ever been caught so wrongfooted as he was at that moment.
"F A L L," the emperor spoke; his voice was deep but calm, almost melodious, but the effects of said words were anything but. The ancient vampire fell on the ground like a puppet with cut strings; Marcellus felt as if his bones had ceased to exist, and an old feeling he hadn't felt since he was turned into a vampire made itself known: exhaustion. His mind had lost any control he had, and he only saw darkness…darkness, and Tiberius fucking Octum still sitting calmly on his chair.
" Check him." Marcellus heard someone say, most likely Lucius, his contact in the Penitus Oculatus. He didn't see; he only felt when a hand grabbed his jaw and made his face look up. Whatever the person who owned the hand was looking for was found, for no more than a second later the spell effects ceased, and Marcellus's strength returned to his body as if it had never left.
" You do not feed on my people; you have control." Tiberius Octum, maintaining the same tone as when he had cast the spell, said, "Good, I was promised a wise leader of man… I would've been displeased had I found a beast instead."
" Your Majesty could have asked." Marcellus replied smoothly and with no anger in his tone; one did not live eight hundred years by holding grudges against powerful demigods at the height of their power, after all.
" Lucius received contradicting intelligence about your feeding habits… And vampires have this annoying habit of lying when in danger of annihilation…" The emperor began; his eyes turned from Marcellus to Lucius, "Tell Odahviing he is to end The Garlythi clan… Their lies could've inconvenienced me immensely… tell him to make them suffer…immensely…and to leave one alive, preferably a newly infected one," Tiberius Octum said, and Marcellus couldn't help but gape… The Garlythi would finally be exterminated, after eons of feud, and all it took was a misplaced lie and the will of a Dragonborn.
" Come, walk with me," Tiberius Octum said as he finally got up from his chair, and around him the empty room transformed into a nicely decorated manor. Marcellus looked around in wonder and shock.
" How… vampires are immune to illusions," Marcellus said, and Tiberius Octum scoffed with disdain.
" Vampires are immune to low level illusion… an Illusion of this level could fool Serana Volkihar herself…" Octum said, and Marcellus froze as if expecting the northern vampire queen to walk into the room. " But that is not the reason you are here… You have had dealings with Vehlek Sain." Octum said as he walked towards a table where a giant map of Tamriel was laid. Marcellus felt relief cloud his mind, and he nodded at the emperor's words.
" Indeed, your majesty… I've had past dealings with the pirate king… " Marcellus replied, his tone emphasizing the word "past." The Emperor grabbed a little headless pirate statue and placed it on one of the islands on the Padomay Ocean. Islands whose names escaped Marcellus's mind
" You brought his conquest of Yneslea to Edmund of Wayrest's attention… why?" The Emperor asked, and Marcellus nodded. The vampire lord looked at the map and sighed.
" Have you seen Edmund of Wayrest fighting, Your Majesty? " Marcellus asked, and the emperor chuckled at Marcellus' question.
" Several times…" The emperor replied with a small grin on his face.
" Well… My clan ran from Koegria nearly two centuries ago, chased by Thalmor aided enemies… Edmund's little trip to Leyawiin last year had us at odds… I bought my freedom and life with that information." Marcellus replied, and the emperor's smile disappeared.
" So Edmund knew of Vehlek's acquisition of Arox for more than a year?" Tiberius asked, his eyes sharp as a sword.
" Oh no, Your Majesty." Marcellus began, his tone conciliatory " The Arox situation is quite recent; I merely informed him of Vehlek's survival… he seemed excited by such prospects… Vehlek was responsible for Edmund's mother's death, after all." Marcellus replied, and the emperor nodded, his eyes still on Marcellus.
" I see… You should've come to me… to your emperor," Tiberius said, and Marcellus almost dared to hope.
" The Empire has not recognized my clan as it did House Ravenwatch. We are not protected by imperial law… therefore not part of your empire," Marcellus replied, betting his life on the Nords' famous liking for daring and truthfulness. His undead heart almost swelled with relief when the Emperor nodded at him with respect in his eyes.
" I might… However, this will only happen once your entire clan receives the approval of House Ravenwatch, not a day earlier. And even then your clan would stand as a branch to House Ravenwatch," the Emperor said, and Marcellus nodded; the idea of getting imperial protection was an enticing one, and many vampires would kill for such a gift. The thirst was now much more manageable; ever since Molag Bal's mysterious disappearance, animal blood had been as satisfactory as men or mer blood.
" It shall be an honor, your majesty… an honor indeed." Marcellus replied, to which the emperor merely nodded.
" Edmund's spy is likely one of yours, am I correct?" Tiberius inquired, raising his left hand in the air, upon which a Blade agent placed a book. " In the records of Uriel's failed conquest of Akavir, Yneslea is described as a large island with mild green hills and a large forest…. To its west is a small chain of little islands that made landing a tad difficult; to its south, a large hill makes landing downright impossible… to its north lay sandy beaches, which was the ideal spot for a landing." The emperor read aloud, his tone calm as his eyes roamed the book.
" My blood brother claimed most of Vehlek's pirates landed in the north… Vehlek himself used alteration magic to open an alcove inside the south hill… it's hidden by illusions… He thought to hide where a dragon's flame could not reach," Marcellus said before Tiberius could ask. The Emperor of Tamriel once more remained silent but nodded in agreement.
" Are you able to communicate with your… blood brother still?" The emperor asked as he offered Marcellus the book. It was open on a page detailing how Yneslea had the same rich soil as Morrowind and how colonies could be placed on the island in case of Uriel's success. Marcellus looked at the emperor silently for a second, confused about why the emperor handed him the book.
" The Emperor has asked you a question, Vampire." The same Blade agent, who had handed the Emperor the book, said.
" I apologize, Your Majesty…" Marcellus said, his voice steady despite his confusion. " And yes, I can still communicate with my blood brother… A blood offering to a crystal ball usually is enough to allow us to speak." Marcellus said, and the emperor stifled a laugh.
" Ha! Telvanni Wizards and Alinor mages researched for years something your blood granted you naturally…" Tiberius chuckled, and Marcellus nodded.
" I shall employ you and your knowledge for the foreseeable future." The Emperor began, his tone showing it was not a request but an order " You may seek your brethren and inform them of the changes after we are done talking here." Octum concluded; his eyes looked at some documents on the map's left.
" As you wish, your Majesty." Marcellus said, his dark eyes roaming the book once more.
" Now, while I don't expect this small… war… to be anything but a massacre," Octum began; his black robes shimmered in the candlelights, exposing to those with keen eyes and knowledge that it was enchanted beyond recognition " I have little to no information on Vehlek's forces, and to call a war waged without knowledge a 'strategy' is to call a shipwreck 'navigation.' The tides do not tolerate ignorance, and neither do I" The emperor continued as he pointed at Sancre Tor on the map, a place that became a feast for crows due to faulty information in the past, " I need their numbers, the equipment they have, and the logistics they employ… if any at that." The Emperor demanded; his tone broke no argument, and Marcellus merely nodded. Tiberius Octum was no tyrant, nor was he known for wanton cruelty, but Marcellus, as an old and powerful vampire lord, hated the powerlessness he felt when under the emperor's scrutiny, and as such, the sooner the emperor was done with him, the better.
" I shall contact my blood brother immediately, your majesty." Marcellus said, to which he earned a nod from the ruler of Tamriel.
" Do so…" Octum began, his voice firm " If your helps turns to be satisfactory, I might be inclined to allow you to rule parts of Yneslea in my name… with the amount of rogue mages I imagine will run away to the newly discovered continent to the east, I shall need a reliable leader of men holding those Islands… Edmund of Wayrest and his line will hold a new duchy in my name, but Yneslea alone is a large landmass, and Edmund will need several counts and barons to help him. A man of your knowledge and skill might become invaluable." The Emperor continued, and Marcellus almost fell on his knees then and there, but his instincts told him a lickspittle was not what Tiberius Octum wanted out of him.
Kevan Lannister-
Kevan Lannister entered his brother's solar with a small scroll in his hands. Tywin, as usual, sat quietly as he read a parchment at his table. Kevan's eyes darted around the room; the white marble walls laced with gold were one of his favorite things about Casterly Rock, as were the hundreds of Lannister banners all over his family's ancestral seat.
" You are late," Tywin said suddenly, breaking Kevan's wandering eyes.
" Indeed, I am," Kevan began; his voice was level and calm. Kevan, unlike many, did not fear Tywin; he had no reason to. For all his coldness and shrewdness, Tywin was above all else a man who respected competence, especially when it came from his family, and among House Lannister, only Tywin himself was more competent than Kevan. " A raven came from King's Landing." Kevan said as he handed the small unopened scroll to Tywin.
The Lannister of Lannister read the small scroll with no visible reaction, bar a small look of irritation that lasted less than a fraction of a second.
"Tyrion is returning to Casterly Rock." Tywin said simply, his eyes landing on Kevan as if daring him to ask a question. Kevan smiled at his brother and decided to indulge Tywin.
" May I be so bold as to ask why?" Kevan asked, and Tywin smirked; their small byplay seemed to amuse the Warden of the West.
" My son," Tywin said with no small venom in his voice, " wishes to see and speak with the diplomat dragon that shall grace Casterly Rock." The venom in Tywin's voice disappeared, giving way to seriousness.
" You fear the dragons…" Kevan asked as he eyed Tywin cautiously. Tywin didn't rage or react to his words, bar a small raise of his left eyebrow.
" Only a fool would disregard the danger posed by an adult dragon… a smart dragon, capable of speaking and planning, is no small matter… Have you seen these…mages fighting, Kevan?" Tywin asked, and Kevan nodded his head in agreement.
The Tamrielians had been docked and stationed in Lannisport for almost two moons, and in those days Kevan had indeed witnessed those magicians engaging in spars; they summoned ghostly animals and animated stone, created illusions, and set traps, all that as quickly as a knight was able to swing a sword, but the most terrifying were the fire and lightning spells. Kevan could actually feel the earth beneath his feet shake when a firestorm was redirected to the ground; he could feel how hot the flames were burning and how powerful the lightning was, and all of that was with protections woven to protect the onlookers from any backlash.
" I have," Kevan replied, and Tywin nodded.
" And yet I've been told none of them can stand a chance should the dragon's ire fall upon them... that their flames burn hotter than any other flame and that their claws can pierce steel, magical or not…" Tywin said, and Kevan felt his eyes widen involuntarily. Kevan found it absurd that these mages, who he suspected possessed the power to confront an army of thousands, had no chance against a dragon. The knight of House Lannister realized, at that moment, how utterly and irrevocably outmatched the whole of Westeros was against any paltry force of this Tamriel.
" Will you allow it?" Kevan asked, and Tywin looked at him with a questioning look. His brother's forehead had frowns upon frowns, so much so that his bald head could be mistaken for a receding hairline by one uneducated person.
"Allow what?" Tywin asked, his voice was bland and low, as if apprehensive of Kevan's question.
" Will you allow Tyrion to get close to the dragon?" Kevan asked, and Tywin's bland face morphed into that of a scowl, his lips turning with such distaste Kevan thought his brother would strike him.
" The little demon rode all the way here; as loathed as I am to admit, he is a clever creature and he will find a way to talk to the dragon…" Tywin began, his green eyes resting again on the parchments on his table, " If the gods are any good, the dragon will think him a sacrifice and eat the little beast, riding me of my shame…" Tywin commented, and Kevan frowned but kept his silence; his experience with his brother's ways regarding Tyrion taught him the futility of trying to put some sense into Tywin's stubborn head.
" Did you get any more information on this dragon they will send?" Kevan asked after a few seconds, and Tywin slowly nodded his head as he started writing something on a new parchment.
" Aye… I've been told this dragon is the emperor's left hand… or so one of the sorcerers claimed… that only a man called Calandor and another dragon of unpronounceable name are trusted more… I've been told it led a legion in the past against the cat people before they bent their knee… and that it also is responsible for creating a trading agreement between the lizard people and the grey-skinned man." Tywin replied, and Kevan nodded, and he thought about Tywin's words.
" A general, a diplomat, or a living flying creature of destruction… what shall we face… Just one or all of them?" Kevan asked, and Tywin's hand stopped for a moment before it continued to write.
"It matters not… If this Empire did not arrive with its armies and dragons seeking conquest from the get-go, then I imagine it shall not have designs upon Westeros anytime soon…" Tywin spoke as he removed his eyes from Kevan and looked down upon his parchment once more, "They seek trade for some reason… like the essosi princes do… They enrich their smallfolk, allowing them to think of themselves as higher than they are— a foolish and dangerous thing." Tywin said, and Kevan saw his brother's eyes narrow at the thought of self-aggrandized smallfolk.
" Indeed… I imagine there's more to it than simply keeping the rabble happy." Kevan began, his eyes turning from Tywin and settling in his signet ring. " I've learned their Empire was founded by slaves under a Slave Queen… Alea or something of the sort. Perhaps the… low… origins of their nobles explain their queer customs." Kevan concluded, and Tywin looked at him with a raised eyebrow, his question asked with no words.
" Willem is very curious about the foreigners… convinced me to pay someone to teach him about their land." Kevan began with a smile. " The lad can't stop talking about what he learns… and fortunately I've been paying attention to his ramblings," Kevan concluded, answering Tywin's unspoken question. The Lannister of Lannister merely nodded but kept his silence for a few more minutes.
" As always, your insights have merit… We must learn more about this Tamriel and its history… about its customs… We cannot afford to draw their ire upon us." Tywin began, his eyes narrowing as he spoke, " You will encourage your son's interest in Tamriel… This interest will undoubtedly be beneficial in the future. We shall also demand Tommen and few Lannister cousins be sent to the Rock, and we shall find a Mage to train them in Magic… If the Stark bastard can learn magic, so should someone of Lann's get…" Tywin said, and Kevan's eyes widened so much it hurt his face.
" The faith will react poorly…" Kevan said, and Tywin shook his head in denial.
" The Faith will be made to comply… There will be far greater threats to the Faith's hegemony than a few boy-mages in the West." Tywin said, and Kevan nodded; he then brought forth a document and handed it to Tywin. It contained a report on the Tamrielian smallfolk's purchases and what they were most interested in.
" Very interesting… However, I have yet to die and find myself in one of the seven hells where I care about what smallfolk from another land buy." Tywin drawled, and Kevan chuckled at his brother's words.
" Look Carefully, Tywin… In two weeks, all Dornish spices in the market have been bought, regardless of how overpriced they are. The interest in Dornish spices only grew; one of the Tamrielian ships even headed south towards Crakehall, as one of their landed knights is married to a Dornishwoman whose family still sells them spices." Kevan replied, and Tywin's eyes twitched, but he said nothing. Kevan then reached inside his doublet and handed him a small book with the Empire of Tamrie'l's diamond-shaped dragon on it; he handed the book to Tywin. "Look at page four and tell me it is not worrying." Kevan said, and Tywin looked at him for a few seconds before he did so silently.
" Imperial Syncretism… the practice of adopting foreign customs and traditions into imperial culture to strengthen unity and entice… voluntary assimilation… famously used by Tiberius Octum to bring seven Maomer tribes into swearing fealty to the Ruby Throne." Tywin read the part Kevan had circled outloud. "Dangerous… very dangerous." Tywin said.
" Indeed."