Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Dark age in the Imperial Province (TES 1x1)

(Yet another TES themed roleplay. A private roleplay featuring AmberGauge)

It was midday in the Imperial city, and as always, all was not well. Once the capitol of the mightiest Empire in Tamrielic history, it now acts as the corpse of the ghost that is the former Empire. Since Emperor Titus Mede II's death at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood, the Empire has fallen into a succession crisis, the danger of which rivaling the Interregnum of the Second Era. The repercussions of the Emperor's death were astounding. Skyrim had now become a province completely independent from the former Empire, The many counties that made up Cyrodiil had lost faith completely, seceding from the Empire completely. Now the Imperial City was just the republic of Republic of Rumare. The Imperial authority was now void, and the Thalmor were now free to dominate the politics of the Imperial province completely. A Dark age for the people of Cyrodiil was fast approaching.

J'o Rahe stood within the marketplace of the grey Imperial City. Aside from the guards patrolling the area, and the Thalmor agents parading around the districts, of which almost seemed to happen every ten minutes, the Khajiit was unsure of he was alone or not in this shadow of a city. In response to the current crisis, many of the Empire's former citizens had now immigrated elsewhere to seek a better life, many of marketplace stalls, such the Mystic Emporium, had closed for good, the entrance doors completely barred and vandalized. The hopes and dreams of the Imperium returning to it's former glory were, in layman's terms, dead. And the people knew it. In fact, Rahe himself truly had little reason to be here, his only purpose was lament in shameless pity of what the province had become, quarreling states, ready to be devoured by the Aldmeri Dominion.

'Jyggalag can wait' The Khajiit thought as he held his head down in silence. The dreams of the many, including his own, had been completely crushed into ashes, it would not be long Cyrodiil was an Altmeri province, or worse... He shed a tear for the land that had raised him for most of his life.

Felicia sat perched atop one of the buildings carefully scouting the area. The city was crawling with Thalmor agents, which was never a good sign, and she really wasn't in the mood to be stopped. She knew that an encounter was bound to happen at some point, though so far she had been lucky to slip by the guards. Eventually she would have to head down into the city- and before all of the shops were closed for the evening- so, reluctantly, she stood and carefully made her way over towards an alleyway that sat between two of the buildings.

Making certain that her bow was secure first, she made her way down into the small alley as carefully and silently as possible. Grasping the edge of the building she slowly lowered herself down, hanging there for a few moments just to make sure that no one spotted her. Releasing her grip, she landed with near-silence before she sprang to her feet and made her way around the building to the other end of the alley.

She came to a dead stop as she turned the corner. Someone was standing near the other end, but she couldn't tell who... She only hoped that perhaps they had not heard her... Pulling up her hood, she slowly turned, deciding that maybe it would be best not to stand around and wait for them to spot her if they hadn't already...