The Greybeards stood out on the edge of the Throat of The World and looked out over the massive expanse of land that they once called home as it became ravished by armies of self-righteous warriors and leaders too afraid to make a move on one another. They watched as they spilled blood over trivial concepts, such as territory and resources. Squabbles of those who have not found peace in the way of the voice. The once proud land being torn apart by war. War that was being spilled by brothers and sisters of each land. This land that they were in. The land once known as Skyrim of Tamriel, but was not referred to as the name given to it by the ones who rose above the Nords. The land now known as Equestria.
The namers of this land had risen above the dying races of older times, and the Greybeards soon shared their teachings with the rising race, known once as mere ponies. They had adapted to fit the roles of the previous race, even fitting the same clothes and weapons. They had risen up from the ashes of the land like a pheonix and displayed that they were indeed worthy of taking the role of rulers of Tamriel, along with the other races that rose from the darkness of the fallen humans, orks, elves, and humanoids alike. They had shaped up to their previous rulers’ statuses and had taken the world without seemingly changing anything at all.
That was, until the war came. A war that tore apart all of this peaceful land at all it’s edges. A war that brought forth a darkness once thought banished. The ancient doors were opening again, and Oblivion was leaking out into Tamriel once again.
The Greybeards gathered in their main courtyard and began to converse with one another.
“Brothers, I believe that you can also feel what is coming. The war to end all peace is upon us, and we can feel the gates opening.”
“The last time this happened, the World Eater returned to end all. What shall happen this time brother?”
“The gates are opening even further, and through them, the Daedra shall invade the realm of the mortals.”
They all felt shivers sent down their spines, and realized the graveness of the situation.
“What will we do?”
“We shall do what the Greybeards before us did at the End of Eternity.”
The rest of them gasped at this as they began to wonder what was wrong with their brother.
“Why would you suggest something like that? There is no need to bring him into this. What could he do?”
“He is the one that defeated the Traitor. The slayer of Lords. The one who could stare down a Daedric Prince and demand their weapons of holiness. The one that ended Eternity itself.”
They all looked to eachother with slight panic evident in their eyes.
“Surely there can be another way.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s him. We must summon him back to the realm of existence. Out of his stone prison.”
They all began to stir about, instruments ready and Thu’um prepared for the mighty song they will soon sing.
“We must summon back the Dovahkiin. We must bring back the Dragonborn.”
With this, all of the Greybeards began to mobilize their instruments as a large amount of them began to write to their brothers in every city across the land, and ready them to strum their voices to Sovrengard, and bring back the greatest warrior to ever trek across Tamriel.