Student Six Watch Elder Scrolls Lore

Chapters

Setting the Stage
Daedric Princes of Skyrim, Morrowind, Oblivion Part 2
The Nine Divines
Thieves, Fighters, and Mages Guild
The Dark Brotherhood
The Argonians of Black Marsh
The Dark Elves of Morrowind
Dwarven Dwemer of Skyrim & Morrowind
Nords of Skyrim
Dragons of Skyrim & Tamriel
The Imperials of Cyrodiil
Ayleid Elves of Cyrodiil
The Bretons of High Rock
The Orcs of Orsinium
A Mad God's New Playthings
Daedric Princes of Skyrim, Morrowind, Oblivion Part 1

Setting the Stage

Prologue:

Setting The Stage

"Are we really going to watch this?" Sandbar asked as the group all sat down with more nerves than Fluttershy during Nightmare Night.

"You want to anger the crazy mad god-like being?" Gallus asked, which promptly shut Sandbar up as the video began.

The video started with a soft melody that soon made the worries fade as the six relaxed into a state of calmness despite knowing their situation. The first thing they saw was the near ruins of a large stone city that looked like it had been through a tough battle but was also beautified somberly by the snow falling around it. A small figure in the distance was walking through the snow, dressed in a black dress with pale white skin and raven-colored hair flowing down to her back. She had a bloody sword dripping with her enemies' fresh blood, yet she held a stone-cold face with saddened eyes. What really had made the group gasp, however, was what this creature was in general.

"It's a human," Ocellus whispered in awe.

"Another one?!" Silverstream asked in shock. "But this isn't Earth or the Wasteland."

"Maybe it's another dimension where humans exist?" Ocellus asked as the female figure stopped.

She slowly looked up and saw the white tower the group had seen the first time, and the words of the video's theme showed up. Like the page of a book, the scene transacted into a stage of pure darkness as the six heard the voice of their narrator for the first time. Unlike the voice of the Storyteller from the previous videos, this one sounded much younger and didn't have the voice modification that came with an advanced power suit. It was more like the voice of a muse eager to tell a tale around a campfire. And it said to them that they would start their story at the very beginning of time itself.

"Wait, so this is also a creation story?" Ocellus asked in surprise. "These people know how their existence really began?"

"Is that a big deal? We know how our world began, right?" Sandbar asked.

"Well, not really. There are various theories about how the world began, but none are conclusive. This video seems to know how time, space, and life began in their universe," Ocellus explained with excitement as her wings began to buzz. "Nobody's been able to figure out how our world began or at least agree on a single universally accepted theory."

"So, for all we know, we could have been farted out by some all-powerful being with gas issues," Gallus joked.

"We were pooted into existence?" Yona asked, tilting her head as Gallus and Smolder laughed at this while the others rolled their eyes before refocusing on the video.

A map soon appeared, and the narrator told them this was Tamriel, a single content in the vast world known as Nirn. The content was home to many diverse races, kingdoms, and cultures, all living in various provinces named High Rock, Skyrim, Morrowind, Hammerfall, Cyrodill, Black Marsh, Summerset Isles, Valenwood, and Elswear. The planet itself was then shown: a large body majority made of water and various lands of various sizes. However, other heavenly bodies existed besides Nirn, such as moons, stars, and planets in what was known as Mundus.

"Why call space...well...Mundus?" Smolder asked curiously.

"Maybe it's just how they say it in their language?" Ocellus reasoned.

"Yaks called space "big empty black void" before learning pony language," Yona pointed out.

"That's a mouthful," Gallus chuckled. "A mouthful but accurate."

It turns out that Mundus was not just space itself but an entire realm of existence in a vast sea of reality. Mundus was the creation developed by the god Lorkhan, The Missing God.

"How can a god go missing?" Silverstream asked while tilting her head.

"Playing hide and seek?" Gallus joked with a chuckle.

"Must be good hiding then. Make sense if God of Hiding," Yona said in awe while Gallus laughed harder upon hearing this.

The scene then showed a symbol of what appeared to be known as Magnus, the God of Magic. It was a blue circle with multiple rays heading towards the center, of which a three-tailed storm was swirling inside with an eye in the center gazing at the viewers. This God of Magic was the architect who helped Lorkhan in Mundus's creation.

"I wonder what would happen if unicorns learned about there being a God of Magic?" Sandbar asked, rubbing his chin.

"Headmare Twilight Sparkle would become the high priestess in five seconds," Smolder said with a deadpan expression.

"True."

However, as powerful as they were, creating a new realm of existence was something not even two gods could do on their own. It was a humongous task that required a lot of help and power, and thus the two turned to the ones known as the Aedra, also known as The Divines, for help. A stained glass window of a man who was also a dragon holding an hourglass appeared, and each of the six admired the divine-like artwork that went into the design. Yet, none of them could tell if he was a human or a dragon due to the dual nature of their faces. What was even more interesting was that, according to the narrator, it was unknown if the Aedra had agreed to help Lorkhan create Mundus or, instead, they were tricked into doing so.

Ocellus then asked out loud the question that was on every creature's mind. "Why would a god trick other gods into making a new realm?"

The answer was unknown, but regardless of the truth, Mundus had been created with the help of the Aedra's power. So much, in fact, that their very selves were used in the creation of Nirn and Tamriel and weakened them significantly. If they had been indeed willing to do this of their own free will, it was one of the greatest sacrifices any divine being could have ever made for something they had personally put effort into. If it was indeed a trick by Lorkhan, it was one of the cruelest things for a divine being to be trapped into.

However, not every divine being agreed with the existence of Mundus or even cared. In fact, a number of them did not, and they were often considered not to be trusted. A dark-robed female being with red skin and white hair stood before a giant black spiked armored knight with a wicked sinister blade in hand as blood was splattered all around the cave-like structure they were in. The six instantly had a bad feeling about these two. It turns out that the ones who did not participate in Mundus' creation were called Daedra. Unlike the Aedra, whose powers were tremendous but limited, the Daedra had the full might of their power, even if they were limited in how to use it in Nirn.

A shrine containing nine objects inside a holy church appeared, and the narrator revealed that the citizens of Tamriel worshiped both the Aedra and the Daedra for different reasons. However, it turned out that, among a mysterious unknown "Greater Empire," the worship of the Aedra was more widely accepted.

"I guess that makes sense," Sandbar replied with a nod. "I mean, I would rather worship the gods that helped create me than the ones who didn't do anything."

"Speaking of gods," Silverstream turned to Smolder, who raised an eyebrow upon seeing her friend look at her. "What do you think about this? You said you didn't believe in gods, but this is proof that gods are real."

"I don't know," Smolder replied, shrugging her shoulders. "I mean, sure, they are real here but are they real everywhere?"

"Consider the concept of atheism is that there is no proof that gods exist at all? I think that we're learning that gods created a realm of existence is evidence enough that gods exist and likely exist in our world as well," Ocellus reasoned with a warm smile.

"We're also kind of being held hostage by a god," Gallus said as he pointed to the swirling void outside where, for some reason, a giant roll of cheese was riding what appeared to be a horse with fire coming out of its hooves like rockets.

Throwing up her claws in the air, Smolder groaned. "Fine. Gods exist. But I still have no plans to worship them."

The video then turned back to the focus of Nirn, specifically the five known continents of the world: Tamriel, Almora, Akavir, Yokuda, and Aldmeris. To the west of Tamriel was Akavir, also known as "Dragon Land" which widened Smolder's eyes while shushing everyone so she could hear this. It turned out that both Tamriel and Akavir have a hostile history, with the latter having invaded Tamriel multiple times and the former invading at least once.

"Wow, holding off dragons multiple times," Sandbar said with awe. "That's impressive."

"Why would dragons attack the Tamrielins, though?" Silverstream frowned. "That seems so mean."

"Well, I can't speak for these dragons," Smolder said with a shrug, "but we dragons have invaded lands multiple times for various reasons. Conquest, food, jewels, etc."

"How do dragons decide to do an invasion or not?" Ocellus asked, getting her notebook ready.

"Well, any dragon clan can decide to invade on their own, but for the entire race to invade it has to come from the Dragon Lord," Smolder explained with a smile. She might not have been a massive fangirl of her own race like Yona was with hers, but she had pride in her own people's way. "Of course, there is a risk for the Dragon Lord to do this. If a Dragon Lord declares war or an invasion and loses, they forfeit their right as Dragon Lord. Since the Dragon Lord is seen as the strongest of the dragons, if they lose in such a way, they are seen as unworthy and dethroned so the next Dragon Lord can be decided."

"You guys really take the might makes right mentality to a serious level," Gallus commented before turning back to the screen.

However, much to Smolder's disappointment, the information about Akavir was limited. Even the narrator admitted that much of it could have been inaccurate due to how hostile things have been between the two lands. North of Tamriel was Atmora, where, according to legends, the first humans came from. A scene showed a large ship led by a large bearded man named King Ysgramor, who fled a civil war with his people to give them a new life. To the east of Tamriel was the land of Yokuda, home of the Redguards, which no longer existed due to sinking into the sea. Although the nation's sinking was shrouded in mystery, the Redguards that survived its destruction believed it was their fault and made their way east for a new home, eventually settling in a new land they called Hammerfell.

"Woah, just like the city of Marelantis," Sandbar said with awe.

"What's Marelantis?" Silverstream asked.

"An ancient rumored pony civilization that sank into the sea," Sandbar answered.

"Oh! Did they also use a magical orb to turn into sea ponies and live underwater like we did?" Silverstream asked with a smile and bright eyes. No doubt thinking of trying to contact them.

"Uhh," Sandbar hesitated as he didn't want to tell Silverstream that they most likely drowned to death. "O-Oh, hey! He's going to be talking about the last continent!"

Said last continent was known as Aldmeris, the birthplace of the Elves. Just like the others, so little is known about this continent that some even question whether it existed in the first place.

"I'm starting to see a pattern," Ocellus replied with a raised eyebrow.

According to the Moth Priests, Aldmeris isn't really a continent but rather a set of images and visions that the elves share among themselves. Although the theory sounded ludicrous, it was taken seriously in this realm due to the Moth Priests having learned of this from a source that was said to be near impossible to dispute: The Elder Scrolls.

However, as stated initially, these videos' main focus was on Tamriel. The land where magic, barbarians, kings, heroes, villains, and more were said to be part of everyday life. It was a land that had seen much bloodshed, the rising and falling of empires, vast conspiracies, and legends that would live on for infinity. Despite being one continent, they were still a divided set of people by territory, culture, and even vice.

"So, just like in the last video, war never changes," Sandbar sighed in disappointment.

"At least it doesn't look like an apocalypse came and train wrecked the world," Gallus pointed out for a positive.

Skyrim was the most northern province of Tamriel and home to the Nords. It was a cold and rugged place that once originally was a home for the Snow Elves that had lived there since ancient times. It was here that King Ysgramor landed after crossing the Sea of Ghosts to save his people from the chaos in Atmora. Considered a legend among all humanity, Ysgramor would conquer the Snow Elves and message all the other elves that Man was here to stay and would not leave anytime soon. The open snowy mountains of Skyrim were shown from its ruins, and Yona quickly looked in awe, saying how much Skyrim reminded her of Yakyakistan.

"Yona like Skyrim! She do well there!"

To the Northeast was Morrowind, dominated mainly by the island of Vvardenfell, home to The Red Mountain, the largest volcano on the continent. Having erupted twice in its history, it has played a massive role in shaping Morrowind's history, and even some species depend on its ashes for survival. It was the home of the Dark Elves, a dark-skinned species of elves with red eyes that made the six very uncomfortable to look at due to their sinister appearance. Ocellus thought they reminded her of some changelings in the past before their rebirth as a species. They saw a large congregation of Dark Elves in hooded robes, kneeling and worshiping before a large and beautiful statue of a female in robes holding a moon and star in each hand while looking divine and graceful. This was one of the Daedra, who the Dark Elves worshiped as opposed to the Aedra, which got them banished.

"I'm not sure if I would live there," Ocellus whispered. "Although I will admit that statue is pretty nice to look at."

"If that's one of the Daedra, maybe they aren't so bad?" Silverstream reasoned.

"Looks can be deceiving, plus we got one of them Daedra's holding us hostage right now," Gallus said as he turned to the window, and this time he saw a bear, a wolf, a golden mechanical robot, and a spider all playing cards on a wooden table with cheese as the betting chips. "I wonder if this is what being drunk is like?"

To the Southeast lies the swamplands known as Black Marsh, the home of a reptilian race known as the Argonians, and the sentient trees known as The Hist. The land was murky, swampy, and filled with such strange-looking dark trees that it was hard to see through it and the mist surrounding it. The Argonians were the first species that was not human looking at all to the six and looked like a combination of lizards with human bodies. They had scales of different colors, long or short tails, horns or feathers, and lived in various tribes that had managed to self-maintain themselves efficiently.

All six agreed that it wasn't a place they would be interested in going to, but Smolder was interested in learning more about another scaled species that wasn't draconic.

South of Tamriel was the province of Elsweyr, a home of vast deserts and jungles that was home to a feline race known as the Khajiit. Every creature instantly thought of the Abyssians when they saw a trading caravan filled with talking cat people. Like the Argonians, the Khajiit had been around in Tamriel even before the Elves arrived, making them one of the oldest native races. However, despite the two sharing this bond, the two didn't like each other and had an intense rivalry.

Southwest was home to Valenwood, home of the Wood Elves and the largest forest in Tamriel. A female light-skinned figure wrapped in deerskin appeared with a bow and arrow while on the hunt for a creature offscreen. She had light white hair and piercing green eyes, but the most distinguished trait was her pointed ears. These ears made it possible to tell the main difference between a human and an elf. Knowing that it would be impossible to tame the forest of Valenwood, the Wood Elves adapted to it and made it their home. The wild and beautiful forest was an eyesight of wonder for the six, who had seen many beautiful woods in their adventures, but nothing compared to the beauty of Valenwood. A living garden of paradise.

"It's so beautiful," Sandbar gasped with a wide smile. "I would so want to live there."

"Me too," Ocellus seconded.

"Ditto," Silverstream giggled with excitement about learning more of it.

"Considering how rare it was to see this much green in the Wasteland? This is a welcomed change," Gallus commented.

"Yak still prefers Skyrim."

Southwest of the mainland was the large islands known as the Summerset Isles and believed to be the first home of the Elves. An army of shiny golden armored elves, whose skin was similar to their armor in terms of color, proudly marched on an open field with their green glass weapons sparkling in the sunlight. These were the High Elves, who would play a huge role not just in Tamriel's history but also in a future part of the history known as the Altmari Dominion.

West of Tamriel was the vast Alik'r Desert and the home of the Redguards known as Hammerfell. Setting up ports for trade and travel, the Redguards were known to be seafaring adventurers, skilled swordsmen for hire, or expert merchants. Unlike other men, the Redguards were not light-skinned or even a lighter shade of brown, but dark black and darker brown, making them stand out from their fellow men.

"Their clothing kinda reminds me of the clothing from Saddle Arabia," Sandbar pointed out.

"Actually, Hammerfell sounds a lot like Saddle Arabia, just with humans instead of ponies," Ocellus said while writing down more notes.

High Rock was the Northeastern province of Tamriel, where its true history was said to begin. In this province, the famous Adamantine Tower was to be found, a massive building that is said to be the oldest structure in the entire continent to the point that it was even said to be at the beginning of creation itself. Other than that, it was also the home of the Bretons (also known as the Half-Elves) and the Orcs.

"Orcs?!" All six cried out in shock upon learning that one of their world's most infamous creatures was here in Tamriel. Orcs were known to be bloodthirsty, evil creatures of sinister cruelty and barbarism that had formed large hordes in the past that left death and destruction in their wake. However, these orcs were not like their own. For one, they were not as tall or monstrous despite having similar facial features. Second, they were primarily green-skinned, not black or gray-skinned, and lacked the more demonic features that Orcs in their world were known to have.

"Wait, are these Orcs...good guys?" Sandbar asked in disbelief.

"I don't know about good, but they don't seem to be like the monsters in our world," Gallus replied with a shiver. Orc attacks were more common in the griffin lands than in any other place in the world, and the history between the orcs and griffins was one of pure hatred and bloodshed.

"I mean, they even have their own place to live outside the city-states of the Bretons, so I guess that means they're civilized," Ocellus said with wide eyes. "This is really fascinating."

Finally, there was the heart of Tamriel. The place that would be the center of many events in the ages to come for the continent and its people: Cyrodiil. Originally home to the Heartland High Elves, they built the first early civilizations of Tamriel and the centerpiece of the entire land: the White-Gold Tower. The great tower stood tall, and the six recognized it as the tower from earlier. In the centuries to follow, the tower would be seen as the supreme seat of power for Tamriel after the destruction of the Heartland High Elves (also known as the Ayleids), who caused it through their cruel enslavement and mistreatment of humans.

"Shit, the elves enslaved humans?!" Gallus cried out in shock and disgust. "Ugh, I hope they rebelled."

Gallus's wish was granted instantly as it was revealed that the Great Slave Rebellion had indeed seen the elves' power fade into humans' hands when they overthrew their cruel masters. This would be the beginning of the Imperial race, and Cyrodiil would soon carry the weight of holding things together for their province and others.

In the First Era, it would be the Imperials who would hold off the invasion of Akavir.

In the Second Era, an incredible mass explosion of magic and arcane energy would shape the foundations of Tamriel forever into what would be known as the Faction War.

And in the Third Era, the crowning of Tiber Septim would happen that would usher in a great empire that had never been seen before.

Yet despite its chaotic nature between peace and war, blood and song, and love and hatred, Tamriel is a land of fantasy, wonder, danger, and legacy. The pieces are set, and the roles are cast. The game is set to play.

But who is pulling the strings behind it all?

That is a story for another day.

Author's Note

And we have our first official chapter out. Wanted to get another one out as quickly as possible that was based on one of the videos. Next time we learn about the Daedric Princes and Oblivion

Daedric Princes of Skyrim, Morrowind, Oblivion Part 2

"AND WE'RE BACK! BETCHA YOU WERE EXPECTING A REGENERATION UPDATE! RIGHT?! WELL, RATED DECIDED TO FINISH PART 2 OF THIS AND WORK ON REGENERATION! SO YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR IT AND INSTEAD GET BACK TO WATCHING THIS! SO START READING, OR ELSE I'LL REPLACE YOUR EYES WITH YOUR REAR CHEEKS! AND THEN YOU'LL BE SEEING OUT OF YER ARSE! HAHA!"

"Am I the only one confused by what he was talking about?" Sandbar asked with his eyebrow raised.

"I think for the better of our sanity, we should just move on and forget what happened," Ocellus answered, to which everyone nodded, including Gallus the Rooster, as they refocused on the screen. It showed another statue, this time of a large muscled beast-like humanoid, shirtless and exposed to the elements while holding a long two-handed sword. This was the Daedric Prince who spurned and ostracized all worshiped, for he is even a heretic among his own fellow Princes.

Malacath

Disliked by her peers and filled with rage and scourge, Malacath's story from an ancestral spirit known as Trinimac is well-known and sorrowful. Once a proud spirit of the Elves, he was eaten by the Daedric Prince Boethiah after losing to them in a deadly duel. However, Boethiah had not just killed and eaten the spirit but further humiliated his remains by excreting them.

"Ew! That's just wrong!" Silverstream stuck her tongue out in disgust.

"Well, that kinda is how predators sort of deal with their victims," Smolder did point out even if she looked a bit green at the thought. She had never personally eaten another creature before, but she knew some dragons who had either for defense or for a good meal. I'll stick to jewels for the rest of my life.

"Yona never wants to be digested and made into feces," Yona gurgled.

"I think everycreature agrees on that, Yona," Sandbar said with a nod while looking greener than usual.

However, from the remains of Trinimac was born Malacath, and from him came the birth of the Orc race, who soon appeared in all their mighty green glory. Wearing shiny and well-crafted metal, the Orcs stood firm and growling as if preparing for a fight. Because they see him as their creator and father, the Orcs worship Malacath as a good Daedric Prince even if others do not save for his views of honor and duty.

"I kinda feel bad for him," Ocellus whispered before a thought came to her. "If he really is the patron of all those who live as outcasts among society, and he's even looked at with disgust by his fellow Princes, what does that say about the entire Orc race overall?"

"Probably just as feared or disliked," Smolder pointed out. "But I'm sure we'll be learning about them and all the other races of Tamriel soon."

Another statue of a Daedric Prince appeared, but it would be more accurate to call it a demonic carving on a mountain hold. If one was to picture the appearance of a demon, this would be the type to use. It held four hands, one of which had an ax, and rested on the design of a throne, looking down with hatred and contempt as if the world itself was something the Prince wished to destroy.

Mehrunes Dagon

No Daedric Prince was hated, feared, and seen as the enemy of mortals, than Mehrunes Dagon. The Prince of destruction, change, revolution, energy, and especially ambition, he has attempted to take over the world many times in the past due to believing that Tamriel is a plane of Oblivion that is his to rule by right and make it a part of his own plane of Oblivion known as the Deadlands. The Deadlands was a world of hellfire, black deserts, and seas of lava where only death lingered for any who entered and fell to Dagon's minions.

"That's the demonic-looking guy we saw earlier!" Silverstream shouted as his complete form appeared before a single well-armed, and armored human. Gallus was even buck-awing at the figure in both fear and disgust. The hellish and nightmare-like world around him was his to control as he laughed and lightning crackled in the sky. "No doubt about it. He's one of the evil Daedra!"

"He's like Tirek, only worse," Sandbar whispered with a shiver, wondering if the Elements of Harmony could beat him.

His most infamous achievement was the Oblivion Crisis, in which a cult of his followers known as the Mythic Dawn sought to bring Mehrunes Dagon personally into Tamriel and rule it by merging the world with the Deadlands. Thankfully, much to the relief of everyone, the cult and the Prince of Destruction were stopped by someone called The Hero of Kvatch, who added another loss to Dagon's list of failures, with a bit of help from Akatosh himself.

"Well, good thing this hero stopped him," Ocellus sighed in relief. "Whoever he or she is, they must have been pretty powerful to stop him."

"And he had one of the good gods help him! Hero of Kvatch kick red demon prince's butt!" Yona proclaimed with joy. "Yak would like to have been there to smash the red prince!"

There were two objects that Dagon had left in Mundus that he is known for, with one of them not being a weapon but a book, as shown on the screen. The book itself, Mysterium Xarxes, was the book that overall started the Oblivion Crisis. Gallus flapped his wings and rushed to Ocellus's notes before ripping them apart. Much to every creature's horror, including Ocellus, she had been writing was displayed on the screen.

"Uhhh, sorry?" Ocellus apologized while blushing so red her head was turning into a tomato. The others just stared at her before she coughed into her hoof. "Uh, I'll be more careful when looking at my writing."

The second artifact was still dangerous as it was a deadly dagger known as Mehrunes' Razor, capable of killing any creature with even the slightest scratch and burning through any armor via disintegration.

"Well, considering he is the Prince of Destruction, I guess that's not a surprise," Smolder pointed out as the next Daedric Prince was met. One who was known as the Webspinner.

Mephala

Unlike other Daedric Princes, Mephala 's sphere was hidden from mortals as part of her sinister nature and she was often seen in many forms depending on the plot she requires to ensnare her victims. The spider themes of this Daedric Prince made closer sense upon learning that she saw mortals and their world as one giant web for her to pull, tug, and spin for her own amusement. Lies, deception, and manipulation were Mephala's means of working in Tamriel, and many lives had been ruined by her acts.

Despite the mystery of Mephala herself, her weapon, The Ebony Blade, was well known as one of the darkest and most sinister of the Daedric artifacts. Every time the blade hits an opponent, it drains the life force of that enemy and makes it stronger. Mephala even encourages the edge to taste the blood of allies and friends for even more power; those lost to her words will do so without hesitation.

"That's...horrible..." Sandbar whispered in disgust. "She's like the antithesis of half of the Elements of Harmony! Hay, she's the opposite of Friendship!"

"Let's hope she and Princess Twilight never meet, or else it's going to be a bloodbath," Smolder said while somewhat hoping to see such an awesome fight. Provided Princess Twilight wins, of course.

It was also believed that Mephala had connections to an organization known as The Dark Brotherhood, which made everyone's blood go cold upon hearing that name, but thankfully they would learn about it later.

Instead, they faded from darkness into light as a statue of a celestial being with wings holding a shiny beacon of bright white energy radiating on the screen. Compared to the other Daedric Princes, who were all dark or mysterious looking, it was a surprise to find one that was the opposite of the nether-like forms and appeared as a living angel.

Meridia

The Prince of Life and Lady of Infinite Energies. Zealot hater of the undead. A mysterious Prince that very few know about save for she associates herself with all those who have life energy inside of them. Her hatred of the undead is so great that she rewards all who kill them in her name with great power and blessing.

"So, she's a good one, right? I mean, the undead is kind of a scary and evil-sounding thing," Silverstream pointed out.

"Y-Yeah," Ocellus whimpered while transforming into a puppy. "Z-Z-Zombies are scary, and I'm all for wiping them out."

"Wonder if she would hate Ghouls from the Wasteland too, although they aren't technically undead," Sandbar wondered.

Surprisingly, one of her artifacts, the Ring of Khajiiti, was used by a well-known thief rather than some holy paladin that hunted the undead. A Khajiit roped in a black thief's outfit smirked on the screen. This bandit used the ring's powers of invisibility to become the greatest bandit in Elsweyr, something the Khajiit see as a great honor and hero-worships him to this day.

"Wait, they...praise thievery?" Sandbar asked.

"Okay, that's weird," Yona claimed with disgust. "Stealing is dishonorable and should be shamed. Right Rooster Gallus?"

"Coo-coo."

"See! He agrees with me!"

The more well-known artifact that fitted more with the description of Meridia was the sword known as Dawnbreaker. With each touch of the undead, the blade unleashes a powerful burst of energy that burns additional corpses making it one of the most potent weapons against necromancers. Everyone's eyes widened upon seeing the blade shining like the sun itself as it cut down undead after undead.

"I want that," Ocellus whispered in awe as she transformed back, with the others all nodding in agreement.

Of course, things went wrong. Suddenly everyone shouted in horror and disgust upon hearing the nickname of the next prince and seeing his statue.

"THE KING OF WHAT?!" Smolder shouted in fury.

"You cannot tell me that there is a damn God of such a thing in this world!" Ocellus shouted in despair.

"Oh, sweet ancestors," Yona sobbed in terror.

Molag Bal

The King of Rape.

The Harvester of Souls.

Molag Bal is among the worst Daedric Princes up there with Mehrunes Dagon; both are seen as the most evil of the Daedric Princes with the most sinister followers. While Dagon represents destruction and anarchy, Molag Bal represents domination and enslavement of all mortals. Two opposite ends of extreme evils represent chaos and order's worst aspects. Molag Bal also had tried to take over Tamriel before to claim their souls for his own, using strife and conquest.

"Oh dear Harmony," Sandbar muttered, covering his eyes. "It's Caesar's Legion all over again."

"If there was a Daedric Prince who best represents that flank hole, it's him," Silverstream growled. "But why is he called-"

The tale was soon told about why Molag Bal was called such a horrible name and why he took pride in it. The group listened in horror at how the monstrous being raped an innocent virgin girl so bad she died but came back to life as an undead abomination known as a vampire. Such a curse spread as vampires became a plight in the world and so Molag Bal was called the Father of Vampires, much like Hircine was called the Father of Werewolves.

"...he raped vampires into existence?" Smolder whispered as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I just...no...I can't...I don't even want to think about this anymore!"

"I'd rather be a werewolf than a vampire," Silverstream whimpered before shaking her head as tears dripped from her eyes. "Buck it, I'd rather be dead."

"Yona wants to smash Molag Bal," Yona growled with venom that spoke of pain. "Hard."

Molag Bal's realm of Oblivion is known as Cold Harbor. It is an exact copy of Nirn but desolate, cold, and ruinous. A combination of cold, freezing air, a sky on fire, and feces covering the walls of its wasteland make it one of the most sinister realms of existence. Equally ominous is the Mace of Molag Bal, also known as The Vampire's Mace, for it drains the magical energies of all hit by it and weakens them with such great pain. Pain that pleases Molag Bal, who takes pleasure in dominating his champion's enemies.

"This bastard is sick," Sandbar growled in disgust.

Much like Dagon, Molag Bal attempted to bring his realm of Cold Harbor to Mundus in the Second Era. Thankfully, he was stopped and even defeated by the champions of various alliances, ending his reign. Sadly, Molag Bal cannot be destroyed, nor can any of the Daedric Princes, and so he continues to cause havoc.

"I know we have at least a few more Princes to go, but I really want to stop after this for a breather," Ocellus said, rubbing her forehead with her hoof. "It was bad enough learning about the Legion, but learning there is a God that fits them all perfectly and maybe even worse is getting too much for me."

"FINE! WE ONLY GOT FOUR MORE, AND WE'RE DONE! SHOULD HAVE KNOWN YA WOULDN'T HAVE THE STOMACH TO DEAL WITH BOLLY! THEN AGAIN, A NICE STOMACH VIRUS IS A LOT BETTER THAN HIM! HAHA!"

"I agree with the mad god," Smolder said before pointing to Gallus. "Also, can you-"

BANG!

Silverstream yelped as Gallus returned to his standard form and landed on top of his friend. Their position was compromising as the two stared at each other, face to face, and blushed. The others snickered before Gallus finally had his brain working again and got off. "Uh, s-s-sorry!"

"I... It's okay," Silverstream replied as the two inched away and turned their heads to avoid each other's gaze.

Thankfully they were soon refocusing their mind on the next Daedric Prince, whose sphere was the Ancient Darkness and Decay.

Namira

Namira was interesting as she was the Daedric Prince of disgusting creatures of all things. Spiders, slugs, insects, worms, and more were creatures in her sphere and protection, much to the confusion of the others as it made no sense to have such a god-like being associated with such things. Even stranger was that she was said to be the one who gifted things like a disease and the power of begging and disregard.

"Okay, disease I get, but the other two? How is begging and being disregarded part of a god's superpowers?" Gallus asked.

"Yeah, but she also sounds like the Daedric Prince of disgusting stuff," Sandbar pointed out. "But I wonder how disgusting."

That answer came from one of her artifacts, the Ring of Namira. Which gave powers to those who eat from dead corpses while holding the ring in their possession. This made the others just turn pale in the face at such a concept. Eating a corpse? That was unheard up, unthinkable, and downright vile in their world's words and tongues. And it was clear that they didn't mean animals but living sentient beings. Images of funeral homes, tombs, and even graves being opened and eaten by the worshipers of Namira flooded their minds and sickened their bellies.

"...IS EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD SO FUCKED UP?!" Gallus shouted in disgust as everyone looked ready to puke.

"At least we're not seeing it," Sandbar moaned as he held his stomach. "I think I'm still going to be sick regardless.

"Just three more guys, it can't get any worse," Smolder encouraged as they prayed the next one was much tamer.

Birds erupted from a portal of darkness as a figure emerged from the velvet portal. Eyes widened at the sight of her dark beauty and gaze of shadow. Ravens perched on her arms as she levitated before them like a silent mistress of the night. Her breasts were exposed slightly, yet they turned the heads and chills of the six regardless of their sexuality.

Nocturnal

She is the Mistress of Shadows and Mystery. Nocturnal has many names and nicknames spoken in the darkness, her sphere of influence. Those who operated in such environments, like thieves, spies, and assassins, worshiped her in the night. Her pale, black-eyed gaze was like seeing into the eternal void itself, yet an ecliptic beauty surrounded her. Despite having one of Tamriel's most prominent worshiping cults, she cared little for worship and desired no priests or priestesses from her realm of Evergloom. As she gives her blessings of luck for her own personal reasons.

"Wait, how does luck play into all this?" Ocellus asked, trying to avoid Daedric Prince's illustrious gaze as she petted her ravens.

"Well, luck could make the difference between a successful theft or not for a bandit," Gallus pointed out before shaking his head at the wondrous goddess. "And anyone who gets a blessing from here is quite lucky indeed."

"How am I finding her attractive?" Sandbar whispered, which bothered Ocellus for a bit, but deep down, she found the Night Mistress amazing to gaze at even though she wasn't gay. "She's not even from our world!"

"Must be a Daedric Prince thing," Smolder whispered but was not bothered by this feeling inside of her despite her disregard for romance in the past. "Or maybe just her."

The most infamous artifacts of Nocturnal were ones perfect for thieves. The Grey Cowl of Nocturnal not only protected the identity of its wearer from all mortals but whoever wears it will be forgotten by everyone. Close friends, spouses, children, and even parents forget them completely, both in face and in name. They are ghosts who seem to not even exist.

"That's a double edge sword," Gallus said with awe. "Sure, you get your identity as a thief or assassin completely protected, but nobody will ever remember you, and you can't form a bond with them."

"Take about a lonely life," Smolder said.

The other artifact was a unique key known as The Skeleton Key. With it, anyone could open any door or lock, physical or magical, in the world. Nothing could prevent it from opening the most tightly secured vaults or tombs. Many times has the Key been used in Tamriel and impacted it multiple times over for good or ill.

"Yeah, I can see why thieves worship her with an arsenal like that," Silverstream whistled in amazement.

Surprisingly, the next Daedric Prince showed that of a dragon, which got Smolder's interest. "Woah, I wonder what they are the Daedric Prince of? Fire? Flying? Butt kicking?"

"Butt kicking?" Ocellus asked in amusement.

"Well, that's what I would be," Smolder scoffed as she listened about the so-called "Taskmaster" of the Daedric Princes.

Peryite

To Smolder's disappointment, Peyrite's sphere was not "butt kicking" but pestilence. Even more disappointing was that, despite his form being a dragon of all things, he is often considered the weakest of Daedric Princes, which made Gallus snort.

"W-Well, whatever!" Smolder huffed, crossing her hooves. "Peryite is a stupid geeky-sounding name anyway."

However, even if he is "weaker" among the Daedric Princes than others, that doesn't mean his power should be underestimated. As the Lord of Pestilence, he has influenced every life on Nirn through his concoctions of dangerous plagues and pandemics that have taken hundreds of thousands of lives and even wiped out entire races that no longer exist on Tamriel.

"Okay," Smolder whispered, eyes widened upon hearing this. "Geeky dragon guy is a mass murdering genocider...good to know..."

"If doing genocide is considered weak among the Daedric Princes, I would hate to see what the opposite is," Silverstream sighed in sorrow for the lost lives. Even if they had never met them, hearing a people's entire race wiped out was terrible. It reminded her of her people's fear when hiding from the Storm King. Fearing their utter annihilation as his power.

Peryite's Daedric artifact was an enchanted shield known as the Spellbreaker. Like its name suggested, it could reflect or absorb all magical attacks. Upon hearing this, everycreature knew that such an artifact could never be in the hands of villains in their world as their most potent defenders, including the Alicorn Princesses, were known for using magic. If someone like Chrysalis got her hands on such a shield, she would not hesitate to use it to bring disaster.

Then again Chrysalis using any of these artifacts would be a disaster, Ocellus thought while shivering at the prospect of her using something like The Ebony Blade or Mace of Molag Bal.

Next to appear was the statue of a horned being happily holding a mug of what appeared to be alcohol and had a jovial appearance to him despite the somber and sinister music. It turned out that, while he was quite the partygoer, he was also the representative of the darker vices of man.

Sanguine

The Prince of Dubatury, Sanguine, represented the best and worst of lust, gluttony, sin, greed, and desire. Of course, he was quite the jovial fellow as his devilish appearance showed a bright smile with mirth in his eyes. Still, like any devil, he was a tempter who sought to bring down others through humiliating pranks and acts of sinful behavior. All forms of pleasure were his to give in his sphere of influence, no matter how depraved. Surprisingly, he had over a hundred thousand realms of Oblivion, making him one of the largest territory owners among the Princes. Each was used to give pleasure, be it a private or public party, to the various mortals, daedra, spirits, princes, gods, or otherwise, with their blessing or against their will.

"Okay, not going to lie, I am kinda tempted to see just how much of a party animal this guy is," Gallus admitted.

"Really?" Everyone gasped as they turned to the left to see the very same being shown on the screen appearing before them with a mug in his hands. They froze in terror upon seeing him as he appeared out of nowhere and with such ease. Drinking, Sanguine winked at the griffin and said, "Well, I don't mind having six additional new friends over for a good time. Got a few places that would be of interest. Including some lustful areas of passion that a few of you could get used to, considering that some of you are interested in each other. Or if you want personal entertainment, I got plenty of gems for feasting, houses for smashing, stairs for walking, beaches for swimming (with lonely mermaids), books for reading (including a special series about a certain Argonian Maid), and more."

"Uhhhh," The Student Six just sat there, unsure what to do.

"HAHA! SANGUINE YOU OLD CHARMER YOU! MUCH AS I WOULD LIKE TO SEE SUCH A THING PLAY OUT! THESE ARE MY MORTALS! AND I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE THEM TO MYSELF! YOU CAN HAVE THEM WHEN I'M DONE! WHICH WILL BEEEEEE TOMORROW?! TODAY?! YESTERDAY?! WHO KNOWS?! WHO CARES?! NOW GO SLEEP WITH A HAGRAVEN WHILE DOING SHROOMS! I'LL SEE YA FOR POKER AND TORTURE ON SUNDAY WITH HIRCINE AND BOETHIAH!"

"Fine. Fine. Spoil the fun, Sheg," Sanguine said with a shrug. "But yeah. I'm the Prince of Deubotery and have no limits to it, kids. Trust me. If pleasure exists, I can do it and ten times better."

He then snapped his fingers as a staff appeared with a red rose. "This is my Daedric artifact, Sanguine's Rose. A summoning staff can summon any lesser Daedra to your aid. Even the most powerful of them all. Just don't expect to summon one of us, Princes. Trust me, I tried to make one like that, and well... let's just say Azura doesn't answer my calls anymore. Of course, every time it is used a pedal will fall from the flower and when all the pedals are gone so will its power, and I'll have to make another. Not that I mind."

Taking another drink, Sanguine waved his hand. "So long, kids." And just like that, he was gone in a flash of purple and dark smoke. Leaving the others in awkward silence.

"....Well, that was weird," Smolder whispered, which made the others all nod before turning to the last of the Daedric Princes being shown on the screen. One whose symbol of being was showing a horrific lady in some underground temple.

Vaermina

Vaermina'ssphere was the realm of Dreams and Nightmares, something the six hoped they wouldn't have to deal with while inside Sheogorath's little pocket dimension. Her realm of Oblivion, Quagmire, was a realm where the worst imaginative horrors and terrors lived. Fear was the dominant power in Quagmire, and Vermina used such fear and nightmarish imagery to control the dreams of mortals in their sleep.

"Well, I'm not sleeping tonight," Sandbar said, which made everyone nod in agreement. After all, if Sanguine could appear, who was to say the others wouldn't for their own amusement.

The Skull of Vaermina was her most powerful and darkest artifact. Whoever is hit by its power will see a reflection of themselves come to life and attack that they have been copied from. It would be fighting yourself who knows all your strengths and weaknesses. However, legend says that the true power of the staff is to feed on the memoirs of those around it and replace them with nightmares. It's even rumored that the staff has a mind of its own.

"That was the last one, right?" Silverstream begged.

Indeed it was. The narrator explained just how much power the Daedra had on the mortal realm, and none of the Student Six could deny it upon hearing about all of them. However, where there is night, there is day; where there is darkness, there is light. A golden dragon of holy fire, so bright and mighty that upon seeing it, the six were instantly reinvigorated with hope and courage. All the despair, fear, and worries in their hearts faded upon seeing this dragon, a being that they knew was of pure goodness. Smolder, who had seen many dragons in her life, fell to her knees in near shock upon seeing such a being and feeling it despite it being on a screen.

Even the others, who had seen such powerful figures in this realm and their own, were marveled by the holy light of the one known as Akatosh.

The Leader of the Nine Divines.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Gonna work on Regeneration next before we do another one of these.

The Nine Divines

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

Thieves, Fighters, and Mages Guild

Chapter 4

Thieves, Fighters, and Mages Guild

"Okay, Fighters Guild sounds interesting. Does that mean these guys are like an MMA or Karate club or something?" Smolder asked curiously, with some bloodlust and excitement in her tone.

"Mages guild sounds like fun. You think everyone in Tamriel can learn magic or just a certain number of races?" Silverstream asked with sparkles in her eyes as she lifted her arms and started waving them around. "I'd love to do magic! Boom! Zap! Blast! Take that, Caesar!"

"Huh, I guess they got a Thieves Guild in Tamriel as well," Gallus said with a shrug.

"Wait, you know a Thieves Guild?" Sandbar asked, turning to his griffin friend, which also caught every other creature's attention.

"Well, not personally, but back in Griffinstone, we heard about a well-organized Thieves Guild that operated in the Griffin lands," Gallus answered with a shrug. "I admit, I did think about joining them if my life didn't get any better."

"But stealing is wrong," Ocellus pointed out.

"Tell that to creatures who starve daily because they're poor and homeless."

The narrator began by telling the viewers that the citizens of Tamirel were, sadly, not always in control of their own lives. Be it from forces of benevolent or sinister intentions, every person from every province was always at risk of being used as one of the higher beings' playthings for good or ill. Nevertheless, the Aedra had sacrificed everything so the creations they protected and cared for could continue to exist and be immune to any takeover from the realms of Oblivion and their Daedra masters.

However, with that life given to them, what could be done with such a gift? Everyone had different goals, be it riches, power, desire, or doing something for the greater good. But one person couldn't do this alone. They needed others to achieve these greater goals, so cooperation between the various mortals was required. While some of the six couldn't agree with some of the reasoning, it made sense even if such a thing involved thievery, as was the human looking to steal a coin purse.

"So I guess working together with others counts as friendship in a way? But what if that friendship is for nefarious purposes?" Silverstream asked.

"That sounds like a complex question. Maybe we should ask Headmare Twilight about it," Ocellus said, to which the others nodded in agreement.

In Tamriel, Guilds were professional organizations of like-minded individuals who shared similar goals, skills, or visions that worked together to see their group achieve higher and better success in the thing that brought them together in the first place. And while hundreds of guilds had come and gone before the various ages of Tamriel, some had continued to live for hundreds of years and achieved greatness over time.

The first of which appeared on the screen while showing a small collection of expensive and jeweled belongings that obviously were stolen based on the title of which organization was going to be explained first:

THE THIEVES GUILD

"Yona not like the idea of learning about thieves. Thievery wrong and punished with harsh labor in Yakyakistan," The young yak huffed.

"I think stealing is pretty much seen as wrong in most cultures around the world," Sandbar pointed out.

"Well, for changelings, it is now seen as wrong, but our whole society was about stealing love from others during Chrysalis's reign," Ocellus said nervously.

"Eh, stealing isn't seen as wrong in the dragon's lands so long as you don't get caught," Smolder replied with a shrug.

"Yeah, same with griffins," Gallus second.

"We rarely have any thieves among us Hippogriffs. In fact, with the entire risk of the Storm King finding us, we were as lawful as ever. I think the last thief we ever had was Headmare Twilight," Silverstream informed them.

"Oh yeah, Spike said she really doesn't like talking about that. Did the Queen ever forgive Twilight for that?" Smolder asked.

"Only after she was forced to help build the new palace we have on Mt. Aries."

The narrator started by listing, of all things, the rules that the Thieves Guild followed, and some of them were pretty surprising to hear:

Never steal from anyone in the guild.

Never kill anyone on the job.

And never steal from the poor.

"Huh, honorable thieves. Who would have thought," Gallus said with an approving nod.

Indeed, such was the code of the criminal organization known as the Thieves Guild. A group that many of those in authority tried to dismiss or state was a myth that criminals said to make potential victims feel worried about their stolen goods. After all, it wouldn't look good for City Guards and Mayors if they weren't doing their job right in protecting their citizen's assets. But the truth was the guild had been around for a long time with all sorts of professional criminals working under it, ranging from burglars and pickpockets to lockpickers and bandits.

A drawn symbol of a diamond-shaped carving with two smaller circles in the middle connected to one another was shown on the stone, the symbol of the Thieves Guild. Those willing to follow the guild's laws and work with others will earn fortune and protection in a well-guarded and supportive group.

The guild also didn't just steal for themselves. Many contracted the guild to steal things for them and paid handsomely for a successful theft, forging documents, or even unlocking doors because the keys went missing.

"People actually hire thieves to steal from others? That's just disturbing," Sandbar said with a look of disapproval.

"Wonder if any of these guys would try to steal all four crowns of the Alicorns?" Gallus asked.

"I'd actually pay to see someone try," Smolder said before putting her claws up to calm a glaring Sandbar. "Just for fun! Just for fun!"

Unlike other guilds, which required you to stand out to advance through the ranks, you were best able to advance if you were unknown in the Thieves Guild. After all, which was the better thief? The most skilled one that was well known? Or the one that nobody knew about because they never got spotted? Greater stealth equals a higher rank which meant you got bigger contracts that gave you greater rewards which could make you really rich.

Suddenly, a quote appeared on the screen from someone known as "The Beggar Prince."

“To this day, it is said that if you really want to know something, go ask the beggars. They have eyes and ears throughout the cities. They know all the little secrets of the daily lives of its citizens.” - Beggar Prince

"Um, you think that might be true?" Silverstream asked.

"I guess we could ask a beggar next time?" Ocellus suggested with a shrug.

"Yona wondering something," Yona asked as she rubbed her chin. "If beggar is a prince, where does he live? A big fancy cardboard box?"

There was a reason why the Thieves Guild never bothered to steal from the poor, homeless, and beggars. Not only was there just nothing worth stealing, but they were already struggling as it was. And as such, the Thieves Guild was good to them by providing protection from the authorities, coin to spend, food to eat, and other things they desired, including a safe haven and a warm place to sleep. In return, the beggars provided one of the best things needed for a thief to have a successful job: information.

Beggars worldwide are more than happy to be spies for the Thieves Guild. Since most dismissed or ignored the beggars, they could easily listen in private conversations or spot things without anyone paying them so much as a second glance. Everything that the Thieves Guild needed to know, such as guard patrols, priceless artifacts moving, or important rich people staying at inns for a night, was all heard by the beggars and given to the Thieves to do what they will.

"That's actually pretty ingenious. There is always a class of poor and homeless, so having them all be your little network of spies and information gatherers gives you your own information network across all the cities," Gallus said as he and the others began to imagine how powerful and significant such a means of a network would have to be. If this was all true, the Thieves Guild had ears everywhere in every city and province of Tamriel.

However, the beggars were not the only ones willing to work with the criminal organization. They also had good relations with various guards and even those in positions of power. The power of coin was not to be underestimated, and plenty of corrupt guards were willing to look the other way for a nice sum under the counter or even use the thieves for their own ambitions, be it for the greater good or selfish purposes.

"Tch, great, so the guards are corrupt too," Sandbar snarled angrily.

It was a sad sight, especially compared to the Royal Guards of Equestria. The Royal Guards took their jobs very seriously, and corruption was always low in the organization. Any hint of it was quickly dealt with, and those involved were seen as living disgraces. While the Royal Guard was primarily immune to such things, even Sandbar would not deny that it was far from perfect.

It was forbidden for non-ponies to join the prestigious organization, and the Royal Guard sometimes preferred to choose outdated traditions and tactics rather than form new ones. It often led to criticism about how the Royal Guards were seen more as a joke among Equestria's younger populace, especially their lack of success in recent years against significant threats such as the Changeling Invasion.

Of course, good things don't last forever. A man named Hieronymus Lex was eventually promoted to Guard Captain in the Imperial City. The man before them stood tall and proud, wearing an armored uniform that made him look more like a Paladin than a typical city guard. It was a shiny silver armor with golden jewelry, including an artistic design of two small dragons facing each other. His hair was short and combed back, while on his back was a Silver Claymore big enough to chop a living being into two.

Hieronymus Lex had a massive grudge against the Thieves Guild and their leader, The Grey Fox. He would capture and torture members of the Thieves Guild using various extreme methods to route them out, but his life goal was to capture the Grey Fox and remove the Grey Cowl of Nocturnal from his head.

"That's the cowl that can make everyone forget your identity!" Silverstream pointed out.

"Yeah, I can see why he's the leader of the Thieves Guild with that in his possession," Gallus said with a smirk. "Although, I think it kinda looks silly."

"Yeah, it looks like rubber stitched together with a weird language on top," Sandbar pointed out.
"Would not fix on Yak's head. That's for sure."

However, instead of going the bloody route and murdering the man, the Thieves Guild used trickery and deception to remove Hieronymus Lex from his position as Guard Captain. This freed the Thieves Guild to operate as they were once more. However, new trouble would come in the Fourth Era, not due to a new guard but bad luck. Something that confused everyone upon hearing this from the narrator. Bad luck happened, but the way the narrator put it, it sounded like something more serious or had a more profound meaning than what appeared obvious.

The screen then showed an underground sewer base where cloaked thieves were moving around and talking to one another or grabbing items from their shelves before heading out to do a job. Of all the Thieves Guild locations, none had been once so successful and well known as the chapter out in Skyrim. In fact, they were so successful that they had plenty of clout in the government and were free to do whatever they wanted without any significant hindrance to the point of practically having free reign over the city of Riften. They even had a very close relationship with the notorious Dark Brotherhood (Again, the name gave everyone chills).

"So when did things go bad for them?" Silverstream asked, as it sounded like the Skyrim chapter was practically living it like kings.

It turned out that they were so successful in the first place due to the guild's close connection to the Night Mistress herself: Nocturnal.

Every creature blushed again as the beautiful and alluring Daedraic Prince appeared on screen, surrounded by her dark power and crows. Under her blessing, the Thieves Guild was blessed with good luck and excellent proficiency. They were also guided and led by her most loyal servants in life and death: The Nightingales. But not all the Nightingales proved reliable to Nocturne or the Guild in general, as one of them stole one of her most prized possessions, the Skeleton Key.

"If I'm reading my notes here, that Daedric artifact can open any door or lock no matter how powerful or tough it is. It can even open gateways into other realms of existence," Ocellus told the others as she read her past notes.

"No wonder this traitor Nightingale took it. It's practically a cheat sheet for a thief," Smolder said.

Angered by the theft, Nocturnal took away her blessings from the Thieves Guild and left them to suffer under a harsh amount of bad luck. It didn't take long for them to lose contracts, members, money, and more. It was soon a shadow of its once glorious self and looked teetering to the brink of annihilation.

But this was soon corrected as the screen showed three dark-cloaked and hooded figures slaying a hoodless fourth one. He died in agony as the traitor Nightingale was pierced with arrows, slashed with blades, and finally ended with a dagger to his throat in a grim and gory manner that made the others wince, but none felt sorry for the traitor. The new Nightingales killed the traitor, returned the Skeleton Key to Nocturnal, and were given their luck back, leading to a new golden age for the Thieves Guild.

"I don't know if we should be rooting for these guys. I mean, they are thieves, but they aren't horrible beings if they just steal from the rich and don't commit murder. Well, to anyone who doesn't wrong them, that is," Gallus said with a torn look.

"But stealing is wrong. Even if you can show some justification for it, it doesn't change the fact that you are taking something priceless from someone else," Sandbar stated firmly.

It didn't really matter in the long run since this organization didn't exist in their world, but still, no creature could figure out if the Guild was as bad as the name sounded or if the narrator pointing out the positive traits of it redeemed some of them in their eyes.

Thankfully, the second guild avoided such a torn moral dilemma since its primary focus was on combat, honor, and valor in battle.

The Fighter's Guild

“Oh, yeah! Now we’re talking!” Smolder said with a grin as Yona and Gallus showed similar interests upon learning that the next guild would obviously be about warriors. This was even further proven by the quote that was shown while also showing a warrior with a sword about to combat with a bunch of undead-looking monsters, which made Ocellus nearly cover herself with a blanket upon seeing.

“The Fighters Guild is a brotherhood of warriors. We provide a service to Tamriel, lending steel and shield to those who need our help. Whether that means ridding a town of an invading menace or protecting a helpless mage, we’ll take the contract.” - Vilena Donton, Guild Master 3E 433.

"Best quote yet," Yona said with an approving nod.

The Fighter's Guild was one of the most essential guilds in all of Tamriel, having been personally supported by the Emperor himself in training the Empire's greatest mercenaries to defend the citizens of Tamriel. For a fee, of course.

Founded in the Second Era, the Fighter's Guild has taken numerous missions involving slaying monsters, stopping bandits, delivering goods, and bodyguarding important people. It was a guild where the strong, determined, brave, and skilled prospered into fame and glory. So long as you have the coin to buy their services, the Fighter's Guild will take any job without hesitation. Those who succeed in contracts rise up the ranks quickly, some even taking the esteemed title of "Champion," while those who default or fail promptly fall into obscurity.

Like all other guilds, reputation was everything, and every member of the Fighter's Guild needed to be good, or else they were kicked out for the sake of the guild's standing among others. While it had its dark times and corrupted moments (apparently, Morrowind's chapter had a notorious reputation), it could still shine even during the chaos of the end of the Third Era due to the Oblivion Crisis. During this time, the Cyrodiil branch of the Fighter's Guild faced a rising rival faction known as the Blackwood Company. The screen showed one of their buildings with their logo, an ax and a sword crossing via the hilts while a tree stood between them.

Made of mostly Khajiits and Argonians, the Blackwood Company was stealing contracts and patrons from the Fighter's Guild due to having unnatural strength beyond regular fighters. Their reputation as some of the best warriors in the land grew faster than any other mercenary group seen at the time, and a bitter rivalry between the two guilds soon formed.

"You know, we keep hearing so much about the humans and elves so far. It's nice to learn more about the other more animal-like creatures," Silverstream said.

"I think they might take offense to you calling them that, Silverstream," Sandbar pointed out.

"You know they might even say the same to us. For all we know, our kind could be just like animals," Ocellus pointed out.

"Ponies were animals back in the Wasteland. I wonder if they are the same here too?" Sandbar wondered and hoped that at least they were treated better.

The Fighter's Guild suspected something was amiss due to the quick rise of the Blackwood Company and their almost supernatural strength. While part of it was out of a desire to see their competitors fall, the Fighter's Guild was still suspicious about the group. One of their own infiltrated the organization and learned the secret of their quick rise to power. In the lowest levels of their headquarters, it turned out that the Blackwood Company was growing a Hist Tree from Argonia, also known as Black Marsh. The six got a look at the tree and didn't see any differences that made it stand out as something unique, but apparently, the looks were deceiving.

Drinking the sap from a Hist Tree gave the drinker strange powers, including super strength. However, while anyone could technically drink this, only Argonians (The natives of the land it came from) could drink it safely, as any others ended up in a blood-raged induced hallucination. Because of this, it was later revealed that the Blackwood Company had caused various innocent people to be killed in their rage due to their inability to tell a friend or foe upon drinking the sap. They kept the secret hidden, but the Fighter's Guild exposed them and soon brought down the Blackwood Company.

"Using alchemy to make yourself stronger instead of relying on your own skills is no way for a true warrior," Yona claimed with a huff before puffing out her chest. "Yaks fight with true skill and honor. Blackwood Company a bunch of fakers."

The Fighter's Guild destroyed the Hist Tree, which crippled the Blackwood Company into obscurity. Without their biggest competitors and praised for their efforts in stopping them, the Fighter's Guild was number one once again and continues to thrive.

The Mage’s Guild

“Oh, I think Ocellus is going to like this one,” Smolder said as the grin on Ocellus’s face was all but apparent.

“I’m excited to learn this one too! I mean, I can’t cast Equestrian magic, but I would really like to learn how to use Tamriel magic!” Silverstream said with eagerness.

“The idea of a collection of Mages, Sorcerers, and assorted Mystics pooling their resources and talents for the purpose of research and public charity was a revolutionary concept in the early years of the Second Era.” - The Archmage Salarth

Much like the Fighter's Guild, the Mage's Guild was founded by the Empire to be used as means of education, study, and discovery for the citizens of the Empire to learn more about the arts of magic. The leader, the Archmage, leads the guild with a council of other mages at the Arcane University in the Imperial City. It was here that every magic user from around the provinces journeys to safely learn the art of magic, including some of the most dangerous arts like Conjuration.

There were seven arts that were taught in the Mage's Guild by the Wizards:

Mysticism was the ability to manipulate magicka itself by having it cross the boundaries of immaterial into the material and have it take form. As such, it was carefully watched over due to the danger of it. Spells of the class of Mysticism could augment the target by granting it the ability to detect life, reflect damage, absorb and reflect spells or harm it by dispelling its magical effects and trapping its soul. Spells of Mysticism included Telekinesis, Dispel, and Absorb Damage.

"So the most basic spell all unicorns can cast would be considered that dangerous in this world? Weird," Sandbar said with a confused look.

Restoration was about healing and mending those weak in health, stamina, sickness, and injury. Because of this, it is the most widely practiced form of magic and the most respected due to the vital care it provides to others. Granting the mage the ability to heal the wounded and sick, shield them from harm, create immunity to diseases, and dispel various magical enchantments. Spells of Restoration included Close Wounds, Wards, and Circle of Protection.

"I can see how that would be the most popular one. Everyone wants to be healthy after all," Ocellus said as she continued to write down her notes.

Alteration was another school about manipulating and changing the physical world. Instead of making something out of magical energy, it was about using magical energy to transform one object into something similar in context but different in structure, such as turning iron into silver and silver into gold. Alteration could also make objects or living beings lighter or heavier or grant special abilities. Spells included Oakflesh, Magelight, and Waterbreathing.

"I wonder if our ability to switch between water and flight form is a means of Alteration?" Silverstream wondered as she looked at the orb necklace that allowed her to transform.

"Must be since not only does it alter your body to that of an aqua creature, but it can also give you the abilities of one," Ocellus reasoned.

"Cool!"

Destruction was all about what the name meant, which was casting spells that caused damage to a mage's foes. An offensive and dangerous school, most mages who learned this typically were involved in combat, such as mercenaries or battlemages in an army. Most Destruction spells came into three elements: Fire, Lighting, and Frost. While it was possible to master all three elements, most mages typically focused on one or two to master. Such spells could include Firebolt, Chain Lighting, and Icy Spear.

"Totally my school," Smolder said while grinning at seeing the power of such spells on the screen.

"Don't you already breathe fire?" Gallusa asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, but I can't use Lightning or Frost. I master those and can use both in one hand while shooting flames out of my mouth. I'd be an Archmage of Destruction in no time," Smolder claimed with a smirk.

Conjuration was known as the school of summoning and was one of the most controversial schools to learn. Because to learn this form of magic, you must master the art of summoning spirits, Daedra, or the undead and having them serve you. Because of the danger of losing control of the summons or summoning something beyond your power, the school was carefully watched and censored with many fearing those who practice this art, especially Nords who have a semi-intolerance for magic in general. Spells in Conjuration include Raise Zombie, Bound Sword, and Conjure Atronachs.

"Do not like dead things. Do not like dead things. Do not like dead things," Ocellus repeatedly whimpered while shaking as Sandbar put her into a warm hug. This made her calm down, but the blushing on her cheeks soon nearly shivered for a different reason.

Illusion was the school of changing the perspective of the minds and senses of those around the illusionist. The illusions were meant to confuse the enemy and input false beliefs that affected them, such as making them succumb to fear or believe that their enemy was out matching them. Such effects did harm them physically, but most of it was mental and could break a person's mind if pushed. They could even use their powers to calm others down, turn enemies into allies, and boost morale. Such Illusion spells included Fear, Calm, and Invisibility.

"I can see The Great and Powerful Trixie liking magic like this," Gallus said as the group imagined the magician performing such unique spells before an audience.

And finally, there was Alchemy, a mix of science and magic. Unlike the other schools, this one didn't have spells but focused on complex recipes and chemical calculations. Alchemists can use magical ingredients and liquids to make potions that range from a wide selection of effects. There was no limit to healing wounds, restoring Magicka, and rebuilding stamina. Some brews could make one stronger, faster, see better, resist magic, and more. It was through Alchemy that the Mages guild got most of its funding by selling their potions and elixirs to the public and greater powers of the realm.

Although there were other schools of magic, such as Enchantment and Thaumaturgy, it was these seven that the Mages Guild focused on.

"I was thinking of becoming an alchemist when I graduate!" Ocellus announced, much to the surprise of others. "Headmare Twilight even said she could contact some old potion teachers of hers that would love to take me in as an apprentice."

"I bet you would do great at it, Ocellus. You're brilliant," Sandbar said before pointing to the screen. "Maybe you can even learn to make potions from Tamriel and make them in Equestria? I mean, if anyone can do it, you can."

"T-T-Thanks, S-S-Sandbar," Ocellus muttered while blushing again with a small smile that made the pony's heart flutter. "Well, let's hope I can see how such potions are made on the screen."

After explaining the seven primary schools, the narrator came to explain how the Mages Guild came to be. It was founded by an Altmer named Vanus Galerion in the Second Era, but before he became the Archmage, he was an apprentice to a mysterious, mystical order known as the Psijics. He and his fellow Altmer, Mannimarco, were considered the most brilliant and brightest of the apprentices. But Mannimarco would become one of the greatest magical threats to Tamirel, for he was a master of the dark art of Necromancy.

"The forbidden art of raising the dead!" Ocellus gasped in fear, and the others all began to swear upon hearing it. Even among the most minor magical creatures did those know of the terrible art that had plagued the world in the hands of dark villains such as the infamous Grogar, who was said to create monsters of untold horrors and legions of undead. This notorious magic had allowed Sombra to exist as a spirit and curse the Crystal Empire even after the Royal Sisters killed him in their fateful war against him all those years ago.

If this Mannimarco was such an obsessed lover of Necromancy, if what the narrator said was true, then there was no doubt that he was a bad guy, especially upon seeing his dark, unnatural yellow eyes that showed madness, ambition, and a lust for power. Thankfully, Vanus Galerion hated the practice of Necromancy and outright forbade its use in the Mages Guild when it was formed eventually. Mannimarco, however, kept diving deeper and deeper into the art, not for the sake of discovery but for his own personal gain.

The fears of the six came true when it was revealed that, during the Second Era, Mannimarco made a pact with the Daedric Prince Molag Bal and started reviving previously dead Imperial Soldiers for the prince to use for his dark conquest of Tamriel. When the Psijic Order refused to intervene due to their policy of isolation, Vanus Galerion decided to form his own mystical order to combat Mannimarco, and thus the Mages Guild was born.

"Credit to him for sticking it to those guys and going out and doing something about it," Smolder said with approval. Dragons might have been self-isolated themselves, but if there was a threat that they needed to take care of, then they did it. Of course, that's only if the threat is a danger to us. Most dragons wouldn't care about something happening to the others. Except I guess me and Ember. We'd do something.

Despite Mannimarco's defeat, he was never genuinely killed, as he would reappear again in the Third Era. This time calling himself "The King of Worms" and leading a force of deadly Necromancers. Of course, he would fail again; hopefully, he was gone for good this time.

"That is the most stupid title you can ever give yourself. King of Worms? Really? What is he gonna do? Wiggle his enemies to death?" Gallus joked, which made the others laugh.

Unfortunately, the Mages Guild may not have been destroyed by Mannimarco, but it no longer existed at the end of the Third Era, much to the group's shock. The Oblivion Crisis had created a fear of magic and mages due to the actions of the Mythic Dawn cult that worked with Mehrunes Dagon to make the terrible situation that nearly brought Tamriel to its knees in the first place. Seeking to blame someone for it, the entire realm of Tamriel blamed all mages for the situation because most of the Mythic Dawn members were mages themselves. The Mages Guild never recovered from this and was forced to dissolve. While magic itself was still practiced and always would be, the Arcane University, once the most fantastic learning center of magic, was closed.

"What?! That's totally unfair!" Ocellus shouted in disgust and disbelief.

"Yeah, that's like blaming every unicorn in Equestria because of someone like Cozy Glow or Sombra!" Sandbar shouted in disgust.

"Well, everyone looks for a scapegoat when things go to the crapper," Smolder said with a shrug. "Fear and chaos do that."

"Still not right," Yona muttered while shaking her head.

The narrator stated that the Mages Guild's destruction was a reminder that a guild lives and dies by its reputation. Be it the Thieves Guild, Fighters Guild, or Mages Guild, they all needed good representation to continue their existence. Sometimes it required respect. Other times it required fear. And sometimes, it required both.

But occasionally, a group could be hated, despite, feared, and loved all at the same time. This was true for one group whose reputation was spoken of with whispering chills, cursed mutters, and desperate pleas for those willing to perform the Black Sacrament to summon one of Tamriel's most dangerous and frightening organizations.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Dark Brotherhood is next and the reactions are going to be disturbed of course. Hope you are enjoying this.

The Dark Brotherhood

Chapter 5

The Dark Brotherhood

"Okay, I'm not the only one worried about this. Right?" Silverstream asked as everyone felt the entire room get thirty degrees colder when the video of the Dark Brotherhood started by showing one of their lairs, including a room with three flags of their black hand.

"No, I get the feeling this one will be dark. Pun not intended," Gallus seconded, and he was soon proven right.

The screen started dark but soon showed a glowing red door with a sinister-looking skull on the front as its design. Just by looking at it, you got the feeling that this was a gateway to a realm of danger and bloodshed. Whoever these Dark Brotherhood guys were, they were serious about the grim and macabre. A sinister sounding voice soon echoed that sent chills down everyone's spine:

“What is the color of night?”

And another voice answered.

“Sanguine, my brother.”

“Welcome Home.”

“Home is apparently where the creepy live,” Gallus whispered as he wrapped a blanket around him.

The others were also doing similar means to comfort them as the music went darker in tone and atmosphere. Sandbar and Ocellus were wrapping themselves together in another blanket while inching closer to themselves. Silverstream was holding a pillow closer to her chest while Smolder was dragging just a bit away from the screen where she was and putting her own pillow between her and it as if a monster was going to burst out. Yona was the only one who hadn’t moved from her place, but Gallus could see her shaking a bit in her rear hooves.

The screen soon faded into darkness before returning. Everyone got their first look at the home of the Dark Brotherhood. An underground series of tunnels and rooms housed by bricks and magic. The symbol of the sinister organization could be seen everywhere among the red and black velvet decorations. Small lanterns lit up the darkened corridors where cloaked figures of all sizes moved like shadows from one hallway to the next. Were it not for all the creepy factors in play, some of the six thought it was a nice place to have a home in.

The narrator finally revealed just what the Dark Brotherhood was, and none of them were surprised that they were a group of assassins that had existed for centuries.

“You know? With a name like that? I’m surprised none of us guessed that was their occupation,” Sandbar said, which made the others nod in agreement.

For as long as can be remembered, the Dark Brotherhood has been murdering targets that were too numerous in number to count. Anyone was a target so long as anyone was willing to contract them, and they were ready to target anyone in Tamriel or beyond. Even the Emperors of Tamriel were no match for the Dark Brotherhood, who had ended the lives of more than one in the past. However, their true origins were much earlier than the Brotherhood’s existence.

In fact, it went so far back that it went far beyond when elves, men, and beast roamed Tamriel. A time before the Aedra and Daedra played their roles in Nirn. A time before Nirn was even a thing. Where time, space, and reality were non-existent.

This place was known as The Void.

“Creepy,” Yona said as the entire screen went pitch blank.

The Void was the cosmic realm of nothingness. No light. No life. Nothing existed in The Void. Nothing but Sithis and the souls that were his to collect. Sithis was the god of The Void, or maybe he wasn’t even a god. Sithis has existed since before and will always live in the shadows. He was neither Daedra or Aedra. Not even these all-mighty beings knew what Sithis truly was, but whatever he was, he was just as powerful as all of them and sometimes more powerful than all of them.

A Dark Brotherhood Argonian, green in scale and cloaked in black with a hood over his shoulder, read from a book as his words appeared on the screen.

“Who is Sithis you ask? Some call him the Dread Father. It was his terrible love that gave birth to the Dark Brotherhood, so very long ago.” - Teinaava, Shadowscale 3E

"How could love be terrible?" Sandbar asked in confusion.

"Maybe it's a twisted kind of love?" Ocellus reasoned.

A glass mural of an interpretation of Sithis, made of a skull with horns, appeared before the group. Because Sithis predates Aedra and Daedra while being neither, the Dark Brotherhood worships him as the one true god of existence. He was first, and thus he will be last, and his might is more significant than all in their eyes. For it was Sithis actions that actually caused the birth of the Aedra and the Daedra. From them came the creation of Nirn and all that dwelled in it. If one wanted to get technical, it was thanks to Sithis himself that Nirn was created at all for his actions that sent the spark that brought life to the world. Ironic for a God of Murder and Death.

"Hey? Mr. Sheogorath? Is this true?" Silverstream asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“MAYBE IT IS! AND MAYBE IT ISN'T! MAYBE HE DOESN’T EVEN EXIST?! OR IF HE DOES, DO YOU THINK HE LIKES CHEESE?!”

"Never mind," Silverstream said, rolling her eyes. I should have expected that as an answer.

Because of his association with death, it wasn't surprising to see that Sithis was portrayed as a skeleton. A very evil-looking one with horns on his head pointing downward and blood coming out of his mouth as smaller skeletons were positioned around him. Others portrayed him as having no form but as the incarnation of all evil in the universe. Some even believe him to be the very realm of The Void itself in a state that does not need a physical body but a mere presence that is enough to enact his will. It made everyone shiver at the thought of even meeting this freak of a skeleton, and all of them were finding the Daedric Prince of Madness to be a far better host than Sithis could have been.

After all, they could have had worse powerful beings controlling them.

Things got even darker when the screen showed three beings tied up in a shack with bags over their heads and struggling in their bonds. Unsurprisingly, Sithis was appeased by death, strife, suffering, and pain. Killing in his name pleased him, and in the eyes of those who worshiped him, this was considered the natural way of life. Death was the prime purpose of existence; all of it was to end one day and return to Sithis. In the eyes of the Brotherhood, conflict and strife made the everyday life of Tamriel, so why not find the worship of it to be true?

"Okay, these guys are freaking insane," Smolder whispered in disbelief at the thought of anyone performing worship like this. "I don't think we even saw anything like this back in the Wasteland."

"Yeah, I mean, take Caesar's Legion, The Master, and The Enclave," Sandbar pointed out as the focus was on him. "Say what you will about all three of them, but they at least wanted to build something that they thought was better for the entire world. The Master wanted to create a new race that wouldn't repeat the mistakes of humans. The Enclave wanted to restore their nation to its glory and start again. And Caesar's Legion, twisted it is, has at least a desire to do away with the old world and start an empire that would shape humanity into something stronger. In theory, at least."

"Yeah, but these guys make it sound like the only purpose of life is just to die. Like death is the greatest thing in the universe, and they worship a guy who pretty much embodies it," Gallus pointed out with a disturbed snarl. "Almost makes you wonder if these guys are a bunch of necrophiliacs."

"Considering that there is a cult that eats corpses, I guess we can't rule it out," Smolder grumbled.

Revered as an actual father figure, Sithis is the highest authority and is worshiped in the Brotherhood as their only god. However, Sithis is not the sole authority that the assassins hold the word of because there is an organization behind the ancient cult of killers. After the authority of Sithis comes the authority of his personal prophet, The Night Mother.

"Dread Father. Night Mother. Sounds like a creepy, messed up family of psychopaths," Silverstream said with a shiver.

"Yona happy her parents not named such sinister sounding titles," Yona claimed.

Once again, the Argonian assassin appeared, and this time, was telling a female blond human about the Night Mother as his quote appeared on the screen.

“The Night Mother is the Dark Brotherhood’s Unholy Matron. She guides our actions, just as the Dread Father Sithis once guided hers.” -Teinaava, Shadowscale 3E

According to the Dark Brotherhood’s lore, Sithis himself once visited upon a Dark Elf woman and bedded her. She gave birth to five of his children, which made everyone watching looking at each other in surprise. After all, this was the god of a cult of assassins who performed horrible acts of murder and death. To hear him come into the room of a single mortal woman, make love to her, and give her five children to raise sounded entirely out of character. It didn’t even sound like the attempt was forced, as it was with Molag Bal and the creation of the vampires.

Was it possible that even evil could love?

Years later, as the children grew up, the Dark Elf woman heard the voice of her lover in her ear. He spoke to her and said he wanted to be reunited with his children. The woman, in love with Sithis, granted him his request by doing the only action known as she appeared with a bloody knife and was drenched in blood.

“...No....No no no no!” Sandbar screamed as the others went pale, and the realization hit them all. “She wouldn’t! She couldn’t! They’re her children!”

She murdered them all.

One by one, she killed them and sent them to their father, who was waiting for them in The Void.

“You sick bucking bitch! What the hay is wrong with you!” Sandbar screamed in rage as tears dripped down his eyes. The others were just as horrified and outraged, with curses and screams echoed in the room. Never had they heard of something so horrible, sick, and evil in their entire life. For a mother to kill her own children was so heinous of a crime that none of them, deep down, wanted to see this woman live on.

Even such a crime back in their world would warrant a death sentence. Not even the ponies of Equestria would give mercy to such a horrible evil being.

“The way she’s smiling,” Smolder hissed in disgust. “The way she’s acting so proud?! If I ever meet this Night Mother, I will burn her to ashes and piss on them for good measure!”

The residents of the village held similar thoughts. For a woman to kill her own children was so evil and act that, regardless of the world, there was only one kind of justice to be delivered. The entire town descended upon the woman in an angry mob seeking vengeance for the children she was supposed to love and protect, but slit their throats in a maddening state to satisfy an evil being.

They brutally killed her and then burned her body in the house where the atrocity occurred. None of the six sympathized with her and were glad that such a thing had happened to her. For a moment, they wondered if their teachers would disapprove of such thoughts before dismissing them. Each of them would react with a similar level of disgust for such a crime, especially Professor Applejack, who preached the importance of family. Not even Professor Pinkie Pie or Fluttershy would want to see the child-murdering mother get off without some punishment.

Maybe they would not wish for her to die, but they would not cry about it, were it to happen.

Usually, it would be the end when a person was killed by an angry horde of villagers and their corpse burned in their home. However, much to the six’s disbelief and fury, it was not. Thirty years later, the voice of the Night Mother (the woman believed to have died) echoed in the head of a disturbed man, much like how Sithis talked to her in the past. She named him Listener and thus was born the first Dark Brotherhood member.

“That might have been one of the most bucked-up things I have ever heard in my entire life,” Ocellus whispered as she rubbed her face. “This world may not be like the Wasteland, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its own dark issues.”

“I’m starting to think that we really are that blessed for the world we live in if so many other dimensions are like this,” Sandbar grumbled as he shook his head in pity for all worlds that couldn’t experience true friendship like theirs could.

The video wasn’t done showing disturbing sights as the next scene showed a young boy in an abandoned house stabbing a dagger between the bones of a skeleton and what looked to be several organs with flowers. While doing this, he repeated the same thing: “Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear.”

It was this ritual that the boy was doing that was the means of summoning the Dark Brotherhood. Every day, all across Tamriel, the Black Sacrament was done to seek death upon one victim per summoner. It was not known precisely how the Night Mother could do this (save for it just being through the power of Sithis), but she would be the one to hear the ritual and its contexts. This dark prayer allowed the Night Mother to tell her children, the assassins of the Dark Brotherhood, who were the next to die and join The Void.

A pale-faced human in black hooded robes and a golden pendant around his neck spoke on the screen to explain more.

“The Night Mother speaks to only one member of the Dark Brotherhood--The Listener of the Black Hand. And when Our Lady speaks, death follows.” - Vicente Valtieri, Dark Brotherhood 3E

The Listener is the highest rank in the Dark Brotherhood, for they are the only ones who can speak to the Night Mother. They are the only ones who can hear her deep inside her large sarcophagus. The Listener was not voted or rewarded but chosen by the Night Mother herself. To become the Listener was the greatest of all honors and one not to be taken lightly. The other duty of the Listener was to be the leader of the Black Hand, which was composed of the Listener and four Speakers who were second-in-commands. Their symbol was the black hand that had been seen many times before.

"A black hand of death," Smolder said with a snort.

The Speakers were the ones who had made it so that Dark Brotherhood assassins appeared in nearly every corner of Tamriel. A dark blond Nord woman was looking over a map of Skyrim deep in her sanctuary. The objective of the Speaker was to operate the various sanctuaries used by the Brotherhood to rest, restock supplies, gather information, or wait for a new job with a new target in mind. The Dark Brotherhood also constantly trained in the various ways to kill someone. Some trained in stealth and others in direct combat. Poison was an option, as was creating an accident. It didn't matter how your target died so long as they were dead and their soul was sent to Sithis. So, it was always in the interest of everyone to share their various talents and secrets with their fellow assassins for success.

"How is it that nobody has managed to stop these guys? I mean, I can't imagine these guys getting away with murder for so long without someone attempting to end it," Sandbar asked in disbelief.

"I guess it's a combination of bad luck and too many people wanting their service," Gallus suggested with a grumble.

Once someone is marked for death by the Dark Brotherhood, there is nowhere to hide, run, or even attempt to stop the contract. The Dark Brotherhood will send assassin after assassin with no end in sight until the poor soul is dead and sent screaming into The Void. Once you are a target for the Brotherhood, you are a target for as long as you live. The said assassins were the last and most of the cult's members. From there, it was only by seniority and the successes of your kills that made you stand out among your peers.

To keep the organization's ranks in control, the Brotherhood obeyed what was known as the Five Tenets. These five rules were from the Night Mother herself; thus, all were supposed to worship them. To even break a tenet was unthinkable.

The Five Tenets are:

"Tenet Number Six," Smolder joked with a big smile. "Never snore so loud that you wake up the entire dorm. To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis."

"Heh," Gallus chuckled before winking. "Tenet Number Seven. Never leave the toilet seat up. To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis."

"Ohh! Oh!" Silverstream waved her hand before getting the sign to go on. Happily, she said, "Tenet Number Eight! Never forget to hug your best friends every day! To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis!"

Sandbar grinned and chuckled. "Tenet Number Nine. Never forget to tip at Sugarcube Corner. To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis."

"I got one!" Ocellus stated. "Tenet Number Ten! Never forget to return your library book! To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis!"

"Yona have one! Tenet Number Eleven!" Yona then raised her hoof up. "Never love Sithis! To do so is to invoke the wrath of Sithis!"

"That would be funny to see someone in the Brotherhood try to do," Sandbar joked as he shook his head. "Don't show love to the guy you are supposed to love, or else you get his wrath for it."

After their fun, the six returned to watching the video.

The Dark Brotherhood has operated for centuries while pulling off some incredible high-risk assassinations of various essential figures in Tamriel. But their most infamous one was the death of Tiber Septim's own grandson, Pelagius Septim. During the third year of his reign as the second Emperor of the Empire, the Dark Brotherhood stabbed the Emperor in the back as he prayed in the Temple of the One, as shown in the video. The assassin stabbed him in the back and then slit his throat for good measure before leaving him to die in one of the holiest places in the Empire.

It sent a message to all of Tamriel. The Brotherhood could kill anyone and anywhere. Even in a holy temple where the one murdered was anointed by the top god Akatosh himself. The Dark Brotherhood is no mere guild or cult but one of the most influential and dangerous groups who ruled Tamriel's shadowswhile watched by their ever-hungryvoid god. Their influence and power grew, especially in places like High Rock and Hammerfell, to the point that both provinces had all their cities as sanctuaries for the cult of assassins as countless souls fell into The Void by their hands.

"... Let's hope we never have to deal with such an organization for our rulers," Sandbar said as the ideas of Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, Princess Twilight, Princess Cadence, Prince Shining Armor, Princess Flurry Heart, Dragon Lord Ember, King Thorax, and Queen Novo being killed by these murders made everyone's heart sink.

If even the Emperors protected by divine power could be killed by the Dark Brotherhood, what hope did their rulers have?

Trouble did eventually come to The Dark Brotherhood, but from inside of all places. A vampire assassin named Greywind claimed to hear the voice of Sithis in his head. He began a bloody crusade to eliminate all non-vampire members of the guild, with his statement being that it was the will of the Dread Father to turn them all into vampires and purge those who were too weak. Whether this was true or not, it turned the Dark Brotherhood into a state of civil war. While vampires had always been part of the Dark Brotherhood thanks to their dangerous abilities, they were now used as minions against them by Greywind.

Greywind, fanatical in his beliefs, believed he was the purest of both vampirism and the Dark Brotherhood. He formed a new organization inside the Dark Brotherhood. One made of vampire assassins who worshiped Sithis and saw Greywind as the true prophet of the Dread Father even over the Night Mother. This organization was called The Crimson Scars.

"Hopefully, they both destroyed each other," Silverstream wished, but sadly she didn't get her way.

One of the Crimson Scars betrayed Greywind to the Black Hand, who quickly had their forces murdered all of them, but the fate of Greywind and his lair remains a mystery. With the Crimson Scars no longer a threat, the Dark Brotherhood decided it was time to deal with the only other organization of assassins that were their closest equals: The Morag Tong.

The Morag Tong was an assassin guild even older than The Dark Brotherhood but only truly operated in the lands of Morrowind, specifically Vvardenfell. When the Dark Brotherhood attempted to gain a foothold in their territory, it sparked a war of shadows and death. The two sides killed many of their members, but in the end, the Morag Tong defeated the Dark Brotherhood and drove them away from Vvardenfell at the cost of their leader, who was killed by them. The Morag Tong might have claimed their dominance over the Morrowind, but that was still nothing compared to the Dark Brotherhood, who could claim all the other provinces.

"Two assassin groups are killing each other, and I don't know who to root for," Gallus said.

"At least the Morag Tong don't worship an evil god!" Yona pointed out with positivity.

"They're Dark Elves, right? That means they worship the Daedra," Ocellus pointed out from her notes.

"Never mind."

The failure to defeat the Morag Tong was only the start of a collapsing power struggle for the Dark Brotherhood. Many more problems arose, including betrayal from within the ranks. The Great War also destroyed much of their sanctuaries as both The Empire and the Altmari Dominion sought to have them destroyed equally. Despite their near extinction, the Dark Brotherhood still exists and is slowly recovering its power. Only Sithis knows when they will rise or fall, but regardless of how far the Dark Brotherhood falls, it will always remain in the shadows that cannot be put out. For evil, no matter how much it is defeated, cannot fully ever be destroyed and will always find a way.

"If there is one group that does need to be wiped out, it's these guys," Smolder said, which made the others nod in agreement.

A question was pondered by the narrator. If Sithis was the one who directly influenced things to create life for Tamriel, does that mean he has the right to snuff it out?

"NO!" The six said at once.

Such a question was not talked about or even mentioned since most cultures in Tamriel ignored or outright banned the talking of Sithis. Most cultures, but not all. One of them did it freely, and they were the reptilian people of the Black Marsh. Ones who had been around long before man and elves and were protected by forces far older than most on Tamriel.

But that was a story for another day.

The Argonians of Black Marsh

Chapter 6

The Argonians of Black Marsh

They were finally going to learn about one of the unique races of Tamriel next, and this one was perhaps the most alien-looking of them all to the Student Six. The Argonians were definitely not human-looking despite standing on two legs, and while one could mistake them for dragonoids, they were more lizard-like in terms of body structure, color, and scale type. Even back home in Equus, where there were many different races, none looked like the Argonians who lived in the mysterious lands known as Black Marsh.

The next video showed what obviously was Black Marsh itself. A dark green and murky swamp-like land with strange trees, unknown flora, and bugs that were as big as fists. There was a mysterious feeling you got every time you saw it, like a giant strange void that would swallow you whole and keep you trapped in a land of danger and ancient history. While every province of Tamriel had its mysteries and was discovering new parts of the past to this day, there was no more unknown, unexplored, and undocumented area than Black Marsh.

"So, how does this guy know so much about it?" Gallus asked.

"Maybe he's just good at his job like the Storyteller?" Silverstream suggested.

Black Marsh, it turned out, was just the outsider name for the area considered one of the inhospitable places in Tamriel. To the Argonians, it was called Argonia. Their home bordered Morrowind to the north and Cyrodiil to the west, surrounded by water in all other directions. Water flowed through the far southeastern province's wetlands, rivers, and swamps. But it wasn't the location itself that was the problem. Black Marsh was home to flesh-eating insects that could suck your blood and feast on your carcass, dangerous plant life that was toxic to touch or could eat you whole, and numerous diseases that could kill you instantly.

"Sounds like a great place to live," Smolder muttered.

"Really? Yona thinks it stinks."

“Sarcasm. Yona. Sarcasm.”

While many in the Empire considered it the "garbage heap" of Tamriel where only the most foolish would venture, there is an ancient, dark, alluring beauty for those who can survive in the dangerous swamplands. Such was seen when a beautiful, colorful bird they had never seen before appeared on screen, flying over the luscious scene of a beautiful set of trees and flowers that had a wild lure to it. It turned out that these trees were not just ordinary trees but the first inhabitants of Tamriel and maybe the oldest. They were living sentient trees known as The Hist.

"Wait, you mean the trees are alive?" Ocellus asked in awe. "How is that possible? Are they like the Dryads rumored to live in the Deer Kingdom's Great Forest?"

"Where does a tree even keep a brain? Under its roots?" Sandbar asked.

An Argonian was soon kneeling and paying homage to one of the trees they assured was one of the Hist. According to the Argonians, The Hist have lived longer on Tamriel since time itself began. They were older than the Elves and far older than the races of Men. For the Argonians, The Hist was everything to them.

Sadly, very few races understood or even knew anything about the lizard people of Argonia. They were a mysterious and alien race even to all for their strange customs and appearances. For their entire existence, they have thrived and survived in the lands of Black Marsh, both against threats such as a warrior Argonian fighting against a giant spider-like creature and defending it against outsiders. Because of this, the Argonians are considered the best guerilla fighters out there and use the environment they know and master by heart to defeat any army that dares step foot into their lands. Added to their ability to breathe underwater and use their tails to help them swim faster than any other race, you had those who could drag any non-Argonian into the water and drown them without much effort. Add to the fact that Argonians were immune to most diseases and poisons, and you had adversaries not to be crossed, especially on their home turf.

"Damn, these guys sound ruthless," Smolder said with a whistle.

"Considering the harsh landscape they come from, it makes sense," Ocellus said as she took down more notes. "Plus, if Black Marsh really is as difficult as the narrator says it is, then only a fool would be stupid enough to try and take it over."

"Does Black Marsh even have anything worth taking?" Sandbar asked with a shrug. "So far, it just seems like one giant swamp nation."

"Maybe we'll see something more later on," Gallus suggested.

The narrator then explained the Argonians themselves as people. They appeared to mostly live in quiet nomadic villages that focused on hunting, fishing, and gathering resources in a tribe-like manner with few cities or towns. They were cautious and reserved people who didn't trust easily. However, earn their trust, and you have the most loyal friend you can count on. They would die for the sake of those they call friends, be it a fellow Argonian or an outsider.

"Sounds like the Argonians would fit well with the lessons of Loyalty," Silverstream said gleefully.

A close-up of an armored Argonian warrior helped reveal that while they appeared to be reptilian, they were more closely associated with amphibians. As mentioned earlier, they could breathe underwater with hidden gills, and, much like a fish or tadpole, they could use their tail to swim faster. The appearances of Argonians were also sometimes different. They were an evolving species that could appear utterly reptilian in one age while appearing more mammal-like in the next. This is because of the Hist sap that all Argonians drink during the Name Day ceremonies.

"Name Day?" Sandbar asked.

"Maybe their version of a Birthday?" Ocellus suggested.

Drinking the Hist sap is not just for cultural reasons but religious as well. Drinking is a sacred honor held with high reverence as it is also a means by which the Hist Trees can communicate with the Argonians with visions or heightened combat prowess.

"Are we sure it's not just some hallucinogenic thing that makes them see crazy stuff?" Smolder asked curiously. "Cause I know some weird plants and stuff that can do that."

"Like that one time Pinkie Pie brought in some herbal medicine when she took over for Professor Fluttershy's medical training class and ended up-." Silverstream was then stopped by every creature who covered her mouth.

"We all agreed to never mention that day, ever," Sandbar hissed.

"Sorry."

The relationship between The Hist and the Argonians was a mutual one. The Hist needed the Argonians to defend them from threats outside of Black Marsh, while the Argonians' own survival depended on the blessings of The Hist. The Argonians also believe that The Hist are the ones who have given them their souls. When an Argonian dies, their souls will return to The Hist to become one with them briefly and then reborn again as new Argonians. Thus, it was even more vital for them to defend The Hist as they needed them for their lives and afterlife.

"Hmm, you know what if the Crystal Empire was like this and the way it has reverence for crystals?" Silverstream asked curiously. "I mean, what if the souls of Crystal Ponies returned to the Crystal Heart, and then it, in turn, reincarnated them like The Hist do for the Argonians?"

"Hmm, that would be an interesting theory," Ocellus muttered. "But I don't think the Crystal Ponies are that religious."

"They lost their religious practices when Sombra burned all their religious iconography, churches, texts and murdered all the priests during his reign," Sandbar said sadly. "So they've mostly been experimenting with other religions or starting new ones."

Speaking of religions, the six were shocked to learn that the Argonians also worshiped, in a sense, Sithis.

"What?! Seriously?! Why?!" They all asked as they wondered who in their right mind, besides the Dark Brotherhood, would worship the evil death god.

A voice then told them that Argonians born under the constellation of the Shadow were known as Shadowscales. The Argonians gave these hatchlings to the Dark Brotherhood who trained them in the art of assassination and stealth. For some reason, these unique Shadowscales were near-perfect assassins who were often some of the best members of the Dark Brotherhood. However, in return for giving them these younglings to train and use for their organization, they were also allowed to always return to Black Marsh and protect it from threats.

The Student Six could see the logic behind such an alliance, but it still unnerved them that they had any dealings with the bloodthirsty, death-worshiping cult.

Much like the darkness the Shadowscales operated on, much of Black Marsh's past is shrouded in mystery. They isolated themselves for so long that it took until the First Era for them to be recorded in existence. Pirates had wanted to use their coastlines to attack wealthy merchants in Cyrodiil, which was currently ruled by former enslaved Imperials who had overthrown their elven overlords.

The Imperials, hoping to stop this, sent their Legions into Black Marsh, where they came face to face with the Argonians, who stopped them. Although the Imperials didn't mean any harm to the Argonians, the lizardfolk first experienced the races of Men, specifically the pirates who had tried killing them for the coast, was a sour one, and they regarded all outsiders as hostile invaders anyway. Not wanting to fight an enemy on their home turf where they had the advantage, the Imperials departed and left them alone.

"That's kinda sad. A misunderstanding and fear of the outside world caused them to act violently," Sandbar muttered.

"Makes you realize that you can't live inside your borders forever distrusting everyone," Silverstream pointed out.

"...Yaks were kinda like that," Yona admitted. "But we learning to be more open!"

Argonia would take a long time to be brought into the Imperial fold, but it would after a decisive battle. Even so, it was only given a loose chain around its neck as no Empire was strong enough to hold control over the hostile lands of Black Marsh and thus only kept a loose control over it near the borders. At the same time, the Argonians were free to live their lives uninterrupted so long as they paid taxes and allowed trade.

However, this hold ended when a mysterious, deadly flu spread throughout Black Marsh. Every sentient being died in its borders save for the disease-immune Argonians. To this day, nobody knows what caused the flu or how it happened, but it was the end of other races who lived in Black Marsh besides the Argonians, such as the foxlike race known as the Lilmothiit, who are thought to be extinct because of the flu. Although some also believe survivors fled for unknown lands.

"That's horrible. All those poor lives," Silverstream whispered in horror.

"...Do you think Peryite caused it?" Ocellus asked with wide eyes. "He is the Daedric Prince of Plagues, after all."

"I wouldn't put it past him or any of the Princes," Gallus muttered with a shiver.

Nobody knew how it happened, and it remains a mystery to this day. Regardless, it granted the Argonians and The Hist complete control over Black Marsh, and this time without anyone to stop them. Such as seen in a bonfire celebration as a festival was held in a small town. They enjoyed the peace of the isolation granted to them, although it also looked as if they were celebrating the deaths of everyone in their homeland except for themselves. Something that made the other very upset.

"Sure, you got your home back, but it cost how many lives?" Smolder growled in disgust. "I get these guys prefer being with their own kind but have some respect for the dead."

"I wouldn't be celebrating. I would be mourning," Sandbar muttered while shaking his head.

The celebration was, unfortunately for the Argonians, short-lived. A sea of red fire surrounded the skies as the Imperial City was a war zone between various factions at war with each other. Molag Bal, the Daedric Prince of Tyranny, had made his move during the Second Era to try and conquer all of Tamriel. Even the reserved Argonians had no choice but to aid the outside races to stop the Daedric Prince. During this time, three alliances were fighting not only the Daedric Prince and the corrupted Imperial forces but each other for dominance of Tamriel and the safety of their race.

For the Argonians, they joined what was known as the Ebonheart Pact. A pact that considered the Argonainas of Black Marsh, Dark Elves of Morrowind, and Nords of Skyrim. Their representatives, who would generally hate each other, nodded and shook hands as a sign of respect and friendship. While the Dark Elves provided the magic and the Nords the brute strength, the Argonains used their skills as skirmishers and scouts to help the Ebonheart Pact.

"I guess what they say about conflict bringing others together is true," Gallus pointed out. "It's not the best example of "Friendship," but beggars can't be choosers."

When the crisis was over, the Argonians had hoped to return home and be left to live in peace again, but sadly, they should have known such a thing was a dream at this point. Everything had changed with the Second Era, and isolation was no longer possible for any races who were now fully interacting with each other whether they wanted to be or not.

It would take Tiber Septim and his mighty Legions to bring the Argonians back into an Empire. Although, technically, Tiber Septim didn't really take over Black Marsh. He took the borders and the major cities around the cost, but he was wise and knew that it was suicide to march into the heart of Black Marsh. Instead, he negotiated with the Argoanians and allowed them to rule the inner lands independently, provided that the borders and costs belonged to his new Empire. They agreed, and thus, they became part of the Third Empire. The narrator suspected that the Argonians and The Hist realized they couldn't remain isolated anymore and had come to trust the human races thanks to the Ebonheart Pact. Argonians found equal membership and respect among most upon joining the Empire, with some going to become high-ranking members in court, such as the Elder Council.

"Well, it sounds like everything worked out," Sandbar said happily.

But there was still one problem the Argonians had to deal with. A problem that had been a thorn in their side for ages.

"...and I spoke too soon."

If any racial rivalry had a bitter history to it, it was the Argonians and their northern neighbors, the Dark Elves of Morrowind. Despite having fought side by side as allies and friends in the Ebonheart Pact, it didn't take the Dark Elves long to betray their allies after the Pact ended. For the Dark Elves had a love for the Argonians, not as friends or comrades. But as slaves.

"WHAT?!" The six shouted in shock.

An Argonian slave in chains was in the dungeon, looking saddened at his cruel fate. Despite all they had been through, the Houses of Morrowind's nobility found excuses to continue holding their Argonian slaves while secretly getting more. Entire tribes of Argonians would be enslaved and forced to endure hard labor. Despite the near hatred for the practice by all other races, The Dark Elves did not care and continued their long traditional enslavement practice for many years.

"How dare they do that to former comrades! Do they have no honor?!" Yona screamed in rage.

In time, the actions of the Dark Elves would come back to haunt them.

But that is a story for another day.

Author's Note

Yeah this wasn't a long one. I love the Argonians the most out of all the races, but until the Elder Scrolls Online game there wasn't much focus on them and even then they don't get enough attention as areas like Skyrim, Morrowind, Summerset Isles, and High Rock. Next time, the Dark Elves.

The Dark Elves of Morrowind

Chapter 7

The Dark Elves of Morrowind

Needless to say, none of the six were happy about what they had just learned. The Dark Elves of Morrowind not only apparently practiced slavery but had also routinely enslaved their former allies of the Ebonheart Pact: the Argonians. It brought reminders of the cruel mistreatment of the slaves that Caesar's Legion of the Wasteland had done and the many tribes they betrayed and enslaved. Not to mention that, if memory serves them right, they were worshipers of the Daedra instead of the Aedra.

"I'm starting to see where the Dark in their name comes from, and not just because of the skin color," Gallus grumbled bitterly.

"Let's hope these guys have some redeeming qualities," Sandbar hoped as he hoped not to see another Legion 2.0 in the works as the video started to play.

The video started by showing what had to be the strangest houses they had ever seen in their lives, and that was saying something. The houses of the Dark Elves appeared to be mushroom-based, with some of them lodged in strange-looking trees with round doors and fungi architecture. A dark ash-colored cloudy sky stood above, blocking any sunlight, yet none of the Dark Elves in this home were bothered. This was the nature of the very land of Morrowind itself: dark, alien, and strange.

Morrowind was so unlike the other provinces of Tamriel that one could be forgiven for thinking they had landed in an entirely different world all on its own. While all the provinces differed, they still had similarities between flora and fauna. All but Morrowind, as evidenced by a large flying flea-looking creature near a river with giant mushrooms growing by the side.

"That's...a very big bug," Smolder pointed out with a slow blink of disbelief.

"Any relation?" Gallus joked to Ocellus, who gave him a death glare.

"Want me to turn into it and suck your blood to see?" Ocellus asked as Gallus put his hands up nervously in apology.

The land was also perilous as there were many ash-covered dust storms from the mighty and terrible volcanoes of Vardenfell. It was a wonder that anything could grow in these ash-covered lands, but life had managed to find a way to survive and thrive in such an environment. And that included the inhabitants: The Dark Elves, aka The Dunmer.

The group nearly lurched forward as a red-eyed glowing assassin with daggers, covered in what appeared to be some kind of bug shell armor, struck someone in the cover of the dark. The eerie glow of their eyes made them both look otherworldly and demonic in some traits. Another one was also shown, but with a narrower visor, as he guarded a local area with other Dark Elves, placing various goods in some underground establishment.

Naturally, the narrator explained that the name for "Dark Elves" came from their skin color. They were also the same height as humans, making them the middle height between their cousins, the Wood Elves (The shortest of the mer races) and the High Elves (The tallest of the three). Even compared to other mer, the Dunmer were long-lived beings who could live past even three hundred, which surprised the others. This means they were the most long-lived species out of all the mortal races.

"So elves have a different lifespan? Kinda like us?" Ocellus said as she wrote the notes down.

"You know, I wonder how different creatures and races have different spans of living in the first place," Silverstream pondered.

"Maybe it's biological or magical?" Ocellus theorized.

"Or both," Yona suggested.

A soldier stood on alert as a sentry for a Dark Elf fortress. The Dark Elves of Morrowind specialized in committing themselves to a balanced warfare mindset by using every form of combat, including sword, sorcery, and bow. Like most elves, they were brilliant and skilled mostly in the arcane arts. However, their greatest skills in magic were in the Destruction school, to the point that every Dark Elf knew at least two spells that could blow or melt your head off. Combined with a unique form of swordplay, they could become some of the best spellswords in Tamriel.

"What's a spellsword?" Smolder asked. "Someone who casts magic with a sword?"

"I think it's someone who can use magic while wielding a sword," Ocellus theorized.

When the video showed the world's other races, the narrator explained how the Dark Elves saw the rest of them. While the elves, in general, were an arrogant species, the Dark Elves could make even the most blow-hearted of High Elf Lords seem like humble monks. This was evidenced by showing a human trapped in shackles in a dungeon, which made the others growl at the sight. The Dark Elves, in their view of the world, saw all other creatures besides them and their Elven brethren as little more than beasts. As such, slavery was a common and cultural practice in Morrowind that had been around for generations.

"Why do I feel that Queen Chrysalis would love it here?" Sandbar asked.

"Because she would," Ocellus grumbled.

While anyone, including other Dark Elves, could be slaves, they were most fond of enslaving the Argonians and Khajiit, as evidenced by one being enslaved before them in tears. Because of their unique physical traits, they did well in the harsh environments of the land and were excellent workers for the more dangerous work needed for the Major Houses. The Dark Elves were not popular, and they honestly didn't care. In fact, they liked it in some ways.

"Wow, imagine liking being hated by practically all the other races of your world," Smolder snorted.

"Yona thinks the term for creatures like this is...troll, yes?" Yona asked.

Despite their reputation for being cruel, proud, and vain, they were determined to keep their independence free. Also, to the surprise of the others, there was great emphasis on the concept of loyalty and family. A family reunion could be seen among some Dark Elves who were enjoying their day and happily paying tribute to their dead ancestors. Ancestors that the Dark Elves worshiped and prayed to as they believed that they were still on Nirn, helping their relatives even in the afterlife.

Uniquely spiritually active, the Dunmer believed in all kinds of spirits, from warrior spirits to nurturing and loving spirits to even ones that curse and give cruelty. Shines to the dead were often found, with many presenting gifts or sacrifices to appease or honor their memory. And among these spirits, believed to be their ancestors, are the Daedra.

"Wait, I thought the elves saw the Aedra as their ancestors?" Silverstream asked in confusion.

"I guess the Dark Elves stand out by seeing the Daedra as theirs, but how?" Ocellus asked as the giant statue of Azura was shown once again with hundreds of Dark Elves paying tribute and prayers to her.

Ever since the start of their existence, the Dark Elves have never once worshiped the Aedra. Their faith was primarily focused on the Daedra and what was also known as the Tribunal Temple, something that was a new fact about them that the six had never heard about before. As such, Morrowind was the only place where the worshiping of Daedra was encouraged with welcome arms as opposed to fear and discrimination from all others.

"Okay, I can understand worshiping some of the Daedra, but do they allow all of them or just certain ones?" Silverstream shivered. "Because I can't see anyone worshiping Mehrunes Dagon or Molag Bal."

"There is a god for everyone, as they say," Ocellus pointed out.

Revelation and rebirth was the story of the Dark Elves and how they came to be on Morrowind. Before they became the Dark Elves, they were once no different from their cousins, the High Elves of the Summerset Isles. They worshiped the Aedra back then and were longtime friends with their High Elf cousins. That is until Boethiah, The Daedric Prince, caused events to end by enacting a change that would forever affect the future Dark Elves. Naturally, Boethiah's actions caused the Summerset Islands to go through a chaotic and bloody revolution that resulted in those who followed her being exiled.

"She's really got that anarchist thing going for her, huh?" Smolder asked while folding her arms.

The Chimer, the name the Dark Elves had before their exile, arrived in Morrowind soon after their exile. After a long and bloody journey, they arrived in Morrowind, but to their surprise, it was already occupied by a race of other elves known as the Dwemer. This surprised the others as they had never heard of such a race before, and Ocellus returned to her notes check. While their mentionings had been said briefly, there had yet to be concrete talk about who or what they were. Apparently, they were a group of elves that lived in an underground empire with advanced technology and science, as evidenced by the giant machine manufacturing station with golden-looking equipment and stone.

While the two races did coexist at first, their opposing cultures soon sparked conflict.

"...Is that always how it's going to end?" Sandbar asked with a sigh. "Are cultures just doomed to clash and cause conflict? I mean, even our respective cultures are different from each other. Some of them have caused or nearly caused wars. Is this just the fate of every group of people when interacting with each other?"

"Hey, we all come from different cultures, and we're not at war," Smolder said as she patted his back. "I mean, yeah. We've had war in the past, and we've had conflicts recently, but we're getting better. Maybe it won't last forever, but sometimes some are better than none."

"I guess," Sandbar muttered as the Battle of Red Mountain was soon shown on screen. While the conflict was around the screen, one focused on a Dark Elf casting a fire spell on a charging golden armored Dwemer with a large battle ax.

This said battle is considered by many to be one of the most important and bloodiest battles in the history of Tamriel. However, there are conflicting reports about the details of said battle, as much remains a mystery or hidden from the public. The only thing that was known is that the entire Dwemer race disappeared from existence when it happened. To this day, it remains one of the world's biggest mysteries as not even the Dark Elves had the power to make an entire race, especially one as big as the Dwemer, all disappear from the face of the planet due to one single battle.

"How does an entire race just vanish?" Ocellus asked, which made the others ponder as well. At first, it sounded like the entire race was genocided, but the way the narrator went about it and the confusion of the Dark Elves after the battle made it clear that something else had happened to cause it.

This battle changed the Chimer as well. Whatever caused the Dwemer to disappear had also caused a physical change. They now had red eyes and gray skin, and it was this day that they became known as the Dunmer.

The Dark Elves.

What had happened on Red Mountain and what caused both the disappearance of the Dwemer and the physical changes of the now Dark Elves was still unknown even thousands of years later. What was the force that caused such a change in the world that seemed to have warped reality? Aedra? Daedra? Did the famous Elder Scrolls know? In some ways, yes, and in other ways, no. What the narrator said next confused the six even more as it had to deal with the god Lorkhan.

"Lorkhan was the one who either convinced or tricked the other Aedra into making Nirn, right?" Silverstream asked, to which the others nodded. "Okay, just wanted to check."

It turned out that while Lorkhan had been the final piece to make Nirn (willing or unwilling), his heart survived. The heart of a god, even a dead one, was powerful enough that its cosmic abilities were immense. Such a heart had been found by three legendary and influential Chimer. One of them was floating in a meditation stance, and even though he was slightly different from his fellow Dark Elves, one could tell from his very aura that he was one of the most powerful beings in Nirn.

It was in the possession of this artifact that the three became what is known as the Tribunal. It was also the belief that they used the Heart of Lorkhan to end the entire race of Dwemer in one swoop, making them the saviors of the Dunmer as a whole race. Because of this action, the Dark Elves saw the Tribunal as their new gods, and with the power of a god's heart granting them such power among all mortals, it was not hard to see them as divine beings in general.

"So...they used a god's heart to win the war?" Smolder asked in confusion. "And then they became gods?"

"Something about that seems a little far-fetched," Gallus pointed out, as the story didn't add up and the narrator didn't seem entirely convinced in the idea as well.

Of course, only some were happy with this new form of worship. Azura herself, angry that the Dunmer had abandoned her worship, cursed them in their new forms and made them the Dark Elves today. A temple dedicated to the Tribunal was shown next, surrounded by mist. While the Dark Elves still obeyed the Great Houses as their primary leaders, the Tribunal were the overall masters of Morrowind, and the Dark Elves followed the teachings of the three religiously for a thousand years. It was their combined power that protected Morrowind from hostile foreign invasions. Even through Molag Bal's invasion in the 2nd Era, they were ready, but they did ally themselves with the Nords and Argonians to form the Ebonheart Pact.

"Not that it lasted long," Gallus grumbled since it was revealed they just went back to their old ways soon after the crisis was over.

"Backstabbers," Yona spat.

Then came the 3rd Era and Tiber Septim's rise to power to create his Empire. Surprisingly, the Tribunal had agreed to sign a peace treaty with him instead of going to war due to internal conflicts that left Morrowind unprepared to face The Dragonborn and his Legions. It was revealed that, while they would swear allegiance to the Empire, they were free to still practice their religious and cultural practices, including slavery. Tiber Septim, though no fan of the practice, agreed as he was a wise man. Freeing the slaves and causing an upheaval of the entire culture of Morrowind would take too long and be too costly, so he settled for the terms.

"I still wouldn't have signed it," Sandbar grumbled, who was upset that the Dark Elves were allowed to practice slavery even though it was outlawed everywhere else. It felt like they were getting special treatment.

"I wonder why he really agreed to it?" Smolder asked.

"Maybe we'll learn later?" Silverstream pointed out.

However, despite their agreed benefits, the Dark Elves didn't prosper as they wished in the 3rd Era. Near its end, the worship of the Tribunal was overthrown when the Heart of Lorkhan was destroyed which threatened the entire way of life for the Dark Elves. To make matters worse, The Oblivion Crisis caused the Dunmer to suffer wave after wave of Daedric invasions that made them lose much, but ultimately survived after Mehrunes Daegon's defeat. Having suffered two tragic events that cost them much, the Dark Elves try to rebuild, hoping their troubles are over.

But they were wrong.

The Argonians of Black Marsh had been the one race who took the least amount of damage during the Oblivion Crisis. Having foreseen the invasion, The Hist prepared the Argonians, and when the Oblivion Gates opened, the Argonians invaded Oblivion instead and forced the Daedic armies back. They were the only race to successfully turn back the entire invasion force of their province without suffering any serious harm.

"Awesome! Scale power for the win!" Smolder shouted with her hands in the air.

Upon seeing their ancient enemies licking their wounds, Black Marsh unleashed the full military might of vengeance upon the Dark Elves. The six couldn't help but cheer at this as karma finally came to the Dark Elves for their thousands of years of oppressive slavery against the Argoanians.

"That's what you get!" Silverstream cheered.

The Argonians were merciless. With no authentic leadership, a broken military, and suffering from more internal problems, Morrowind crumbled to the Argonians. Many were captured and forced into Argoanian rule. Slaves were freed while their former masters burned. Save for specific areas, most of Morrowind fell into Argonian hands, and with the Empire dealing with its own problems, it couldn't resolve the situation. Not that many sympathized with them, as many felt the Dunmer had earned this punishment. The once mighty and arrogant Dark Elves had been humbled and forced to pay for the actions of their past.

"I'd say sorry, but I'm not," Ocellus giggled.

Those who were not captured or surrendered fled all over Tamriel. The Dark Elves had lost so much and were now forced to survive in the lands of the people they looked down upon. A bitter irony.

Of course, technically, the Dunmer never were the original inhabitants of Morrowind. They won it in conquest from their cousins, the Dwemer. The most technologically sophisticated race to ever walk, Tamriel.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Yeah I know the Dark Elves are popular, but the Six wouldn't be because of the slavery

Dwarven Dwemer of Skyrim & Morrowind

Chapter 8

Dwarven Dwemer of Skyrim & Morrowind

"So what do we know about these Dwemer guys?" Smolder asked Ocellus as she looked at her notes.

"Only that they lived underground, were elves, were very advanced in creating technology, and were enemies, then friends and then enemies again of the Dark Elves," Ocellus explained as she read from her notes. "Oh, and they all mysteriously disappeared without anyone knowing what happened to them."

"How does an entire race just disappear?" Gallus pondered out loud.

"Maybe they went into hiding like we Hippogriffs did against the Storm King?" Silverstream suggested as she rubbed her pendant.

"Or they went into a deep hibernation like we Changelings did for a few centuries to make everyone think we were extinct," Ocellus theorized.

"Guess we'll find out," Sandbar said as the video began to play.

It showed two golden armored beings working at a forge next to a large waterfall. It was assumed that these were Dwemer as they had seen similar armored beings fighting in the war against the Dark Elves. While it looked golden, the armor was also a darker color and looked even heavier than gold.

According to the narrator, even years after their mysterious disappearance, the Dwemer (also known as the Deep Elves) were still considered the most technologically advanced race in the history of Tamriel. So much so that the other races could be regarded as primitives compared to what they had accomplished and learned during their reign of existence. The Dwemer held an underground empire that had spanned across the entire continent. And yet, despite this, few ever saw them as they preferred isolation from the other mortals above.

"So it would be like if Diamond Dogs had become super smart and created an underground empire stretching across Equestria and the Crystal Empire to the Badlands," Sandbar theorized.

"That would actually be a pretty scary concept," Smolder said with a shiver. "Imagine fighting a war against these guys? They live right under you. They could just pop out and raid your homes without worry."

"Couldn't be that good if the Dark Elves beat them," Gallus commented.

The underground culture by which they lived was focused on crafting, learning, and seeking knowledge about the world around them. Their underground white and golden marble cities were large and imposing, unique and designed with a mindset of those who favored logic over creativity. Yet it was these cities that have lasted for ages while others dwindled.

For the Dwemer forsake the idea of worshiping any and all gods, seeing their fellow mortals do it and mock it with ridicule. They were brave enough to mock Daedra, Aedra, and all other powerful beings. For them, reason and logic were their gods. And they cared little for faith and superstition.

"So..wait, are they atheists? How can you be when gods are actually real?" Silverstream wondered as she pointed above. "I mean, we're being held hostage by one right now. No offense."

"NONE TAKEN LASS!"

"I don't think they're really atheists, Silverstream. I think they're more like they don't care or worship the gods because they don't care about them. So the best way to describe them is agnostic," Ocellus corrected. "Maybe they see themselves as above such worship?"

"Arrogance against Gods always equals punishment in Yak tales," Yona commented.

The Dwemer believed that instead of worshiping gods, they should surpass them and gain their power through scientific and logical means. Alchemy, magic, science, and invention were all ways the Dwemer did this. The six watched as scientists, crafters, and mages of the Dwemers worked in their labs on various reacher projects. It was like seeing a dozen Twilight Sparkles and Ocellus working together. It was said that the Dwemers were the first to master the art of smithing, long before the Orcs or Nords. Even to this day, their unique metal is highly sought after.

"Sounds like your kind of place, Ocellus," Smolder said to the changeling. "And it's underground like a Changeling Hive."

"Can't deny that it appeals to me, but they sound super arrogant," Ocellus said while shaking her head. "I don't want to feel like I'm in Chrysalis's reign again."

Making good armor was one of many things that the Dwemer were good at. A giant wooden steam-powered airship was shown hovering over a lake. A unique invention of the Dwemer race that none of the other races had mastered. However, Equestria already had her own set of airships that they had been developing for over fifty years, so this was a minor sight to the others. Still, it did speak volumes of the mastery of technology the Dwemer had.

But the most well-known aspect of their technology was their mechanical creations. Gallus gasped gleefully as he saw the mechanical spiders, rolling men, and other golden-colored robotic inventions that operated like clockwork. They were the security of the Dwemer, who, even to this day, still moved and protected the homes of their masters despite them being gone for so long.

"Aww, that spider one is so cute," Silverstream said with a sparkle in her eyes.

"You realize that thing is designed to be a security boy, right?" Smolder said with a raised eyebrow. "It will most likely try to kill you if you hug it."

"At least I'll die happy," Silverstream replied.

While some might find making living metal appealing, the Dwemer saw it with pride. It was their proof that life could be created without the power of the gods. Even if it wasn't precisely the everyday aspect of life one would expect. Still, none could deny that their logical thinning and forward progressive mindset allowed them to advance faster than any other race.

The races of Tamriel were then lined up: Humans, Elves, and Beastfolk. All of various sizes and shapes. Included among them was a Dwemer, a more dark-skinned elf with a big beard. Apparently, there was a rumor that they were the size of a small child thanks to a butchered name for their kind called "Dwarves," but they were no different in size or shape than any other man or elf. Instead, they had one unique aspect that other races didn't: the ability to telepathically communicate with one another.

"Woah! That's cool!" Sandbar said with awe. "Imagine being able to talk to people you know across the world with mental thoughts!"

"You know, this reminds me of a rumor people had about Changelings," Ocellus giggled. "Many races thought we had some kind of "Hive Mind" that allowed us to communicate or feel each other empathically. It's pure nonsense."

Like all elves, the Dwemer started in the land of Aldmeris. As with all elves, the Dwemer were among the elves who settled in Summerset Isles before leaving it, much like the Dark Elves. However, very little is known when, how, or why the Dwemer left their Aldmer brethren, even though it was much earlier than the Dark Elves. Eventually, they founded Morrowind first, where they founded the city of Dwemerin.

"Ooooh," The six said as the city was shown in all its glory. It was still a beacon of beauty even after being unoccupied for a thousand years.

The Dwemer prospered under their isolation for a brief time, but it didn't last when the Chimer (the future Dark Elves) arrived in Morrowind, having splintered off from the Altmer. As a reminder, the narrator said the reason for coming was to be able to worship the Daedra freely, which the Dwemer mocked them for as they had already started their mindset of trying to dismiss the worship of higher divine beings. Naturally, this led to conflicts between the two races, who fought over land, resources, and religion.

"I can't help but feel that the Dwemer are kinda jerks for mocking people for being religious," Sandbar said with a frown. "I mean, sure. You don't have to worship a higher power if you want, but do you really need to mock and belittle those who do?"

"Yeah, I'm not the biggest fan of the gods, but I'm not going to look at you all as if you're idiots for doing so," Smolder snorted.

However, while the Dwemer were dealing with the Chimer on one end of their underground empire, they were also dealing with another elven race. The Falmer of Skyrim. Seeing the Falmer for the first time, the six couldn't help but blush at how beautiful the snow elves were as they stood in solemn sorrow. Their snow-white hair, crystal blue eyes, beautiful angelic faces, and glowing pale appearance made them seem almost divine themselves.

"...Okay, I know I am straight and all, but even I have to admit he's handsome," Gallus muttered.

"...If I wasn't attracted to you, I'd date him," Silverstream whispered.

"...Wait, what did you say?" Gallus asked as he whipped his head to a blushing Silverstream.

"Nothing!" Silverstream said as she turned away and whistled.

The Snow Elves were losing a bloody conflict against the Nords of Skyrim. Facing total extinction, the Snow Elves turned to their underground cousins for help. One would think that being elves themselves, the Dwemer would help by giving them shelter, massing their armies, and helping them reclaim their land. However, the Dwemers, despite all their logic and reason, were cruel and vain in the end. And they cared little for their fellow elves.

The Dwemer had agreed to protect the Falmer in their cities, but to the horror of the six, it turned out to be a trap. They blinded the Snow Elves with a unique black fungus that was poisonous. Every single Snow Elf was forced to eat it or tricked. A generation later, the Dwemer had made the Falmer their own slave race.

"That's... that's bucked up!" Sandbar shouted in disgust. "How could they do that to their own kind?!"

"Seriously, what happened to being logical and reasonable? This was just cruel!" Silverstream cried out as she sniffed a tear for the fate of the Falmer.

"I take it back; I don't want to live there," Ocellus grumbled as she angrily wrote in her notes, "Dwemer = Jerks."

"You know, I didn't know who to root for in this war between the Dark Elves and Dwemer, but the way I see it, it's two arrogant slaves using races against each other. I'm rooting for the volcano," Gallus grumbled.

Speaking of the war, the conflicts between the Chimer and the Dwemer were worsening thanks to cultural differences. This was especially true in the religious sense as the Dwemer were agnostics who acknowledged the gods but believed in logic over them, while the Chimer were devoted to their Daedric princes.

"Reminds Yona of Division Times of Yak History," Yona said. "Yak clans were divided over issues until King Yakie-Yak united them all once again."

"King Yakie-Yak?" Gallus asked in a deadpan voice. "Really?"

However, all-out war was prevented thanks to the invasion of the Nords. Their warriors invaded Morrowind and started slaying all the elves they could see. Thanks to their previous encounters with the Snow Elves, Nords were still very hostile to elves. They saw Morrowind as a place of conquest and a means to continue their extermination of the elven race, which they saw as the enemies of mankind.

Realizing that they had to work together, the Chimer and Dwemer started "The First Council," which was an alliance between the two races to hold off the invading forces of the Nords. The Council was composed of equal members from both races who would work together to benefit them both. A large battle showed the Chimer's mages and Dwemer's war machines taking the field and obliterating the Nords. It was a very one-sided match between the two and proof that they could work together in coexistence. After sixteen years of war, the Nords fled back to Skyrim, and an era of prosperity between the two elves began.

"The enemies of my enemies are my friends indeed," Ocellus quoted as she smiled.

"I suppose fighting against a common enemy is one way of achieving friendship," Sandbar reasoned with a shrug. "Still would prefer a less violent method."

"Didn't Princess Twilight and her friends come together because they had to fight off Nightmare Moon?" Smolder pointed out.

"Yeah, but nobody got hurt in that incident."

However, not everybody loves peace. A rebellious group of Dwemers refused to join the Council. Choosing exile, their leader, according to legend, wielding the Daedric Hammer, Volendrung, threw it into the sun and vowed to live wherever it landed. The place where it did so was later known as Hammerfell.

"...So that's where the name comes from?" Gallus asked in surprise. "Huh. I wasn't expecting an actual hammer to fall on it, but there you go."

However, things were worsening for the Dwemer on the other side of their Empire in Skyrim. The Falmer, enslaved, blinded, and twisted by hate, had become monstrous and impish beings whose appearances had disgusted the six, who were horrified to see what the once beautiful race had become. Having suffered too much for too long at the hands of the Dwemer, they started their own rebellion. The War of the Criag lasted for a long time below in the underground, while the Nords of the surface had no idea that such a conflict was occurring under their feet. For decades the war raged until one day when the Falmer charged they only found empty suits of Dwemer armor with no bodies.

"So the war lasted until the Dwemers' disappearance," Sandbar said with a shrug. "Personally, I can't blame them for rebelling. They had it coming."

"Yeah, these guys might have been smart, but they were total flankholes," Smolder said.

The event that caused the Dwemer to disappear into non-existence occurred during the Battle of Red Mountain in Morrowind during their reignited war against the Chimer. The First Council had broken, and the Golden Age between the two races had ended with a return to bloodshed.

"Wonder what caused it to happen?" Ocellus pondered.

"Maybe we'll find out one day," Silverstream answered.

It was during this time that the brilliant Dwemer High Engineer, known as Kagrenac, sought to usher the use of the power of the Gods themselves by using the heart of Lorkhan. With it, he believed that Dwemer was ready to ascend into godhood themselves in the form of Numidium.

Numidium was...indescribable, to say the least. It was huge. Big. Bigger than anything thought possible. It was a machine that was also a titan. A brass god created by the Dwemer that was more powerful than anything they had made before. It was their most incredible creation and the ultimate weapon, one that was so dangerous even they could barely use it. Kagrenac believed that he and his people could become one with it. The supreme being of steel, flesh, life, and strength with no weakness.

However, whatever happened, it didn't work out as expected. All Dwemer around Tamriel from every corner of its planet was gone in a single moment. Vanished without a trace. And nobody, to this day, has an answer as to why or where they went. Only left are their inventions, cities, machines, and the Falmer slaves who linger in the dark underground of Skyrim.

"So...Yona don't get it...did they die? Become gods? Disappear?" Yona asked in confusion.

"I guess that's the mystery. We'll never know," Ocellus said. "The only thing that can be conclusive is that it had to do with using the Heart of Lorkhan with Numidium."

"Maybe they played with powers they really couldn't understand," Sandbar suggested. "I mean, trying to use the power of gods to become gods? I'm sure there is more than one fable about how that ends up in disaster."

"I guess they weren't smart enough after all," Gallus chuckled.

With the Dwemer gone, the Dark Elves would rise in Morrowind, while a race of men would rise up in Skyrim. Strong, unyielding, and determined to create an empire stretching east to west.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Nords of Skyrim are next! But that will be after Christmas! Which I hope you all will enjoy.

Nords of Skyrim

Chapter 9

Nords of Skyrim

"Yona get the feeling she will like Nords. Skyrim sounds much like Yakyakistan!" The yak proclaimed as she leaned forward to learn more about the Nords.

"You realize we're talking about the guys who tried to wipe out an entire race of elves, right?" Gallus pointed out.

"Genocide kinda seems to be the norm here," Smolder said with a snort. "It's not like this wasn't the case in the Wasteland either."

"There have been a few attempts at genocide in our world's history, but as far as I know, only three were successful. The Lycans, the Naga, and the Devil Ponies," Ocellus recalls from her knowledge of history.

"Devil Ponies?" Sandbar asked in confusion, as he had never heard of them before.

"Well, that's not their real name, but that's because it's believed saying their real name will bring them back from the underworld, and so their real name is lost to history," Ocellus said with a shrug. "Apparently, a lot of creatures were really scared of them."

"But isn't genocide just wrong in general? How does that make you better than those you hate or believe to be evil?" Silverstream asked with a frown.

"Hey, it was ancient history. Nothing we can do about it now. The dead stay dead," Gallus said with a shrug before pointing to the screen. "So let's just focus on the history we're already learning before we get lost in two different subjects."

https://m.

The group knew that this was going to be quite an adventurous one. The first image they saw was of a Nord in barbarian-looking armor wielding a giant sword against a dragon. Both looked ready to fight to the death.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Smolder said as she picked up some popcorn (that appeared out of nowhere, but most assume it was from the Mad God watching them) and began to eat it. "That Nord is gonna get barbecued."

"You know, I kinda find it disturbing that so many of our tales are about knights and warriors slaying dragons when we know they are living sentient creatures like us," Sandbar frowned. "Especially the ones where the dragon dies at the end."

"Eh, it's not offensive to us. Dragons like conflict in nature. If a dragon dies in combat, it's not really mourned as long as it is an honorable death," Smolder said as she tossed some popcorn in the air and ate it as it fell.

"So if I slay you in combat, you'd be okay with it?" Gallus chuckled. "At least I know your family would let me come to your funeral."

"Wouldn't happen. I'd be going to your funeral instead, lion butt."

The cold and rugged mountain region of Skyrim was shown to them as all could hear the wind in the air and see the frost of the peaks and pines of the forest. It was the coldest and harshest frozen land in Tamriel. A beautiful wintery land of ancient history and conflict. It was a land of mud and snow but a land of vintage and proving. A land that demands you survive in it to see the inner wonders of its landscape. Here, heroes were forged in the dangers of Skyrim and became legends in the making.

A female Nord, holding a shield and sword, was walking through the cold grass of Skyrim. She looked barbarian-like with leather and fur clothing and markings on her face. The Nords were tall, sturdy, and proud. Able to tolerate the cold like no other race. Mostly known for blonde hair and blue eyes, their thick muscles and large frames were their most noticeable aspect. Even the women were like this, making them some of the most robust physical females in the provinces.

Smolder, Silverstream, Ocellus, and Yona looked at their bodies and couldn't help but feel intimidated by their lack of super muscles.

The muscles were helpful as they saw an armored Nord fighting a giant Saber Cat. Conflict and roughness made the Nords who they were, as Skyrim challenged them daily. Be it for farming, defending their home, fighting bandits, or an invasion of outsiders, every day was a challenge for the Nords who embraced this way of life.

Fighting was a way of life. War and battle were culturally accepted. This made them some of the most deadly physical combat-based warriors to face. Enemies would flee in terror from the brutal skill they displayed. Even in death, as evidenced by a Nord being laid to rest, they were remembered for how they died over how they lived. Death by combat was seen as the most honorable way to go.

"I guess this really is a race that doesn't fear death," Silverstream whispered as they saw the Nord being praised by his fellows despite being dead and buried.

"Yona can respect that," Yona said with a nod.

A battle between the Nords and the High Elves was soon shown on the screen. While the latter was using a combination of magic and swordplay, the Nords straight up charged through the flames and bolts of lighting to slay their elven foes. They were some of the most courageous and brutal fighters you would ever see in Tamriel. They feared not death but cowardice and would not hesitate to fight for what they believed in.

To the shock of all, the six saw someone speak in a strange tongue and tear down a castle wall before their forces charged in. This was one of the ancient elite Nords who spoke in the language known as the "Dragon's Tongue."

"The what tongue?!" All six of them said as five of them turned to Smolder.

"Don't look at me! I don't know anything about this!" Smolder shouted as she waved her hands.

The "Dragon's Tongue" seemed to be some kind of vocal magic or ability with various effects. It could tear down buildings, inspire confidence, bring fear to your enemies, and much more. This gift made the Ancient Nords the outstanding masters of war, thanks to the Aedra.

"Well, when you get a gift from the gods, you gotta use it, right?" Gallus chuckled.

"Kinda wish the Aedra gave them a more peaceful gift," Silverstream pouted.

The group was then shown the "Throat of The World." The tallest mountain in all of Tamriel. They were in awe of it. It looked just as tall, if not taller, than Mt. Aris and Canterlot Mountain. According to legend, the Sky Goddess, Kyne, breathed life into mankind. It was also revealed that Kyne was Kynareth under a different name. It was widely believed that the Aedra had different names based on how they appeared before each race. So it was accepted to call them other names so long as they were the same Divine.

Still, everyone viewed the Divines differently. Nords were no exception. They had them more war-like, and their afterlife differed from the rest. For them, Sovngarde was their afterlife. A place for only the greatest of warriors and Nords. Built by the god Shor, those who died gloriously or lived a glorious life are welcomed to a grand feasting hall where endless meals, mead, and conflict await. A place for warriors to compare tales, test their strength, and live happily forever in infinite joy.

"So pretty much an endless Pinkie Pie Party?" Sandbar asked.

"If that's the afterlife, then I can't wait to die," Gallus chuckled.

"Yona, too! Wait...uh, maybe after Yona had a long life," Yona replied.

The history of the Nords starts with migration up in the land known as Atmora. A great civil war among the Atmorans had left the continent in turmoil and blood. One person, however, wished to create a new life away from the conflict, so he gathered many followers and set sail south. After a long journey, they arrived at Skyrim but called it Mereth because it was already occupied by the Mer, known as the Snow Elves.

Ocellus looked so happy writing about history that she went through page after page in her notebook. Seven more appeared out of thin air, and she didn't flinch. Just continued writing.

"HEHE. REMINDS ME OF OLD HERMAEUS MORA."

For many years, the Atmorans and Snow Elves lived in peace. Things were great initially, but everything changed when the snow elves pillaged a Nord city. They slaughtered them all. Left no survivors. And the six were horrified upon seeing the corpses piled up and burned.

"Why would they do such a thing?!" Sandbar asked in horror.

"No honor! Nords must get revenge!" Yona screamed in disgust and rage

The Snow Elves, aka the Falmer, feared the humans growing too fast for their comfort. Not only were they outnumbering them, they were also becoming stronger and advancing far too quickly. They feared their power and culture would be lost to the humans, and so they decided genocide was the answer. This was no excuse for the six, and they hoped retribution would come.

That would come from a man who would be one of the greatest Nords in history. His name was Ysgramor. He and his sons survived that terrible night and spread the word to all the other Atmorans about what had happened. Five hundred companions would join him in getting revenge against the Snow Elves for their betrayal, and with his great double-bladed ax, he led them on a mission of revenge.

Ysgramor and his companions slowly and brutally drove the Snow Elves out of Skyrim. Ironically, their attempts to halt Man's rise ended with the wiping out of their rule.

"And then they got screwed over by the Dwemer later on," Silverstream sighed. "Honestly, it's kinda sad that this happened. I mean, not every Snow Elf was bad, right?"

Before anyone could answer, Smolder shushed them as a dragon had appeared on the screen. Covering in black and purple flames, it roared and soared with the moon behind it. Such a majestic and powerful scene made the six gasp in awe. It was around this time in Nordic history that dragons appeared and influenced the race of Man.

The Nords began to worship the dragons as if they were gods. Cults were made in their honor as the Dragons accepted the humans as followers. Guiding and ruling them. Some in good manners and others with cruelty. The most powerful cultists were the Dragon Priests, who possessed magical powers and learned to use the Thu'um or the Dragon's Tongue taught them by their masters. Though looking almost specter-like, they were highly respected and served as intermediaries between Nords and their serpent kings. Building temples to honor them and statues in their name.

"Huh, dragons worshiped as gods. I can dig it," Smolder grinned as the others rolled their eyes.

However, as time passed, the Dragon Priests became more tyrannical in their actions, so the people of Skyrim rebelled. The Dragon War was man vs dragons in an epic showdown of conflict. It was a fight for freedom against those who mistreated them as slaves. However, Nords were dying by the thousands, and the dragons barely had any losses. It was clearly a losing battle.

"Wow, these dragons are tough," Smolder said with a frown. "Kinda don't like them being...you know...slaughters...but I guess that's just how it is for all dragons."

"Glad they aren't like our dragons," Sandbar sighed.

However, the tide then turned when some dragons, regretful of their actions, sided with mankind and taught them powerful magic and the Thu'um. These dragons would become mankind's allies in their fight for freedom in a quest for redemption. This made the others smile, happy that some good dragons were out there.

After a long and tiring war, the surviving dragons fled to remote areas, and the Nords of Skyrim were free. Having defeated elves and dragons, they claimed the land as their own by right of conquest. Never again to be ruled by others and have their home theirs forever. Lord Harald, the first High King of Skyrim, was crowned by the Jarls and began a new destiny for his people. But it would take his son to make his ambitions come to light.

Believing they had a right to rule other lands, The High King began the "Skyrim Conquest" to see their territory expanded in all directions, including High Rock and Morrowind. It was clear to the elves that the humans couldn't be ignored. They were a threat to them all. The young race was here to stay and would prove their time had come. With a more significant threat in play, the elves set aside their differences to work together to fight the Nordic invasions.

"That's what the Dwemer and the Dark Elves did in the last few videos, right?" Silversteam remembered.

The united elves had caused problems for the Nords, but even worse was that Ysgramor's line had died out. This led to an empire lacking an emperor.

"Oh boy, we all know how that turns out," Ocellus winced as, low and behold, the Jarls began to fight each other to become the new High King. "Yup, saw that coming."

The empire fell apart, leaving the Nords with just Skyrim as their territory. Unable to muster the offense they once had, the Nords isolated themselves to recover and focus on their own manners inside. That was until the dragon-armored Akavir invaded their homeland at the end of the First Era. So disciplined, quick, and ruthless were the Dragon Guard that the Nords pledged their allegiance to its leader, Reman Cyrodiil.

The first Dragonborn in recorded history.

"Dragonborn?!" Everyone shouted in shock.

"Wait, he's like...half-dragon and half-human?" Yona asked.

"H-H-How is that possible?!" Ocellus's eyes twitched, and she began looking at her notes. "Dragons are so tall and big! Humans are so short! For them to mate or such, it would practically kill the human! A dragon male's penis would tear the female in half, and no human penis would have enough sperm to impregnate a female dragon's giant vagina! Such sexual intercourse is impossible!"

"I really didn't need images of that in my head, Ocellus," Gallus muttered as they all went red upon hearing this.

"Must have been some honeymoon," Smolder chuckled.

"So who's the mother? The dragon or the human? Did they get born naturally or in an egg?" Silverstream wondered out loud.

Reman Cyrodiil would create the Second Great Empire that would rule most of Tamriel. The Nords would loyally serve this Empire and the following two empires after it. However, the Second Empire ended with the Morag Tong assassins killing the rulers of the Empire, and it crumbled. They would also be forced to ally with the Argonians and the Dark Elves in the Ebonheart Pact against the forces of Molag Bal and his Daedra. Once it was over, they went back to their old ways.

At least until Tiber Septim came.

"That's the guy who made the Third Empire, right?" Sandbar asked Ocellus.

"Yup," she answered.

After a few battles with Tiber Septim and his Imperial Legions, the Nords quickly allied themselves with Tiber Septim as they knew he was worthy of following. Out of all the provinces, Skyrim was the only one to join of their own free will, while others had to be conquered or annexed into the fold. Many Nords happily served under their new Empire. It was also revealed that Tiber Septim was not originally an Imperial but a Nord named Talos.

Another dragonborn.

"But...he doesn't look like a dragon," Smolder said in confusion. "He looks mostly human."

"Maybe it's based on the gender of your parents like some mixed-race couples are?" Ocellus theorized.

"Yona is even more confused," the yak said as she rubbed her head.

Dragons held much power in Tamriel. Be it from the race themselves or those who can use their power. The children of Akatosh were one of the world's most feared and mightly beasts.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Nords of Skyrim aka the most played place in Elder Scroll's history based on how much attention is put under it. Dragons are next and that will be interesting.

Dragons of Skyrim & Tamriel

Chapter 10

Dragons of Skyrim & Tamriel

"So we're going to learn about these dragons, huh?" Smolder said as she leaned further back against the wall. "I admit. I'm curious how different these guys are from my kind."

"I still want to know how a dragonborn can be possible," Ocellus grumbled.

"Magic?" Yona suggested.

"That can't be the answer to everything!" Ocellus shouted.

"Why not? It kinda explains a lot in our world," Gallus pointed out as Silverstream nodded in agreement.

The screen began to start, and the group was confused by why they revered the title as "Dov" instead of just dragons. However, before they could ask, a quote was shown:

“...Wow,” Smolder said before blinking. “Okay. Very different from our world.”

“I would hate to hear a choir of dragons singing if this was the case,” Silverstream said with a gulp.

“You think this “Voice” is some kind of magic? Like the Sirens?” Sandbar suggested.

“It sounds like it, but the Sirens voice is more like singing magic. This sounds like even speaking a word could cast a spell or warp reality,” Ocellus pointed out.

The quotes continued:

“Yeah, we know this. The dragons ruled over them. I guess they weren’t good and friendly rulers,” Silverstream said before turning to Smolder. “No offense.”

“Eh, none taken. I doubt most Dragon Lords before Ember would have been kind to non-dragons,” Smolder said with a wave of her hand.

“You gotta give points to the Men of Old Times for facing off against the dragons despite their power,” Sandbar said with a nod of respect.

“Yaks would be the same. Fight on even if odds are against us,” Yona said proudly.

“Yeah? Well, there is a difference between fighting dumb and fighting smart,” Gallus said without any impressed notion.

“What about honor?” Silverstream asked.

“Honor is only good if your enemy faces you with the same morals. Most of the time you're better off doing whatever you can to survive and then winning,” Gallus replied.

"I'm glad that not all dragons were evil," Ocellus said.

"But did he really do it because he felt sorry for them or because a being more powerful than him told him to do it?" Smolder pointed out with suspicion. "I mean, why the change of heart?"

"Maybe we'll learn about it," Ocellus replied.

The dragons of Tamriel soon then appeared before the six on the screen. Looking at them, they were very different from the ones back home. Many of them were of darker colors with more spikes and sharper edges than their world's dragons. They also had very similar structures in terms of looks and body appearances. It was almost impossible to tell the difference between several of them. The dragons were also the average height of most dragons, but several in their homes were bigger, including the former Dragon Lord, Torch. That said, it was clear they were more geared towards fighting in their evolution, as a single bite of those jaws or scratch from those claws could clearly shred them all apart.

While they were indeed called "Dragons," it appeared that the dragons had their own language and called themselves "The Dov," which means "Children of Fire." They were among the oldest races in Tamriel and were even immortal in terms of age. They were mighty, powerful rulers of the sky that none could match. Despite their animal appearance, they were brilliant and wise.

"Do you guys have your own language?" Ocellus asked Smolder with interest.

"Kinda? There was some ancient tongue we all spoke during the days of the Empire, but that was lost when it collapsed," Smolder answered. "I don't know jack about that."

"Why would this Jack person know about dragon words? Are they a dragon?" Silverstream asked.

"Figure of speech, Silverstream," Smolder sighed.

"Woah, that's a lot of fire!" Gallus shouted as they turned to the screen to see two dragons breathing fire on one another in what appeared to be some kind of dispute.

Such a sight is what made the dragons both beautiful and terrifying. All feared them, as evidenced by citizens of a nearby city fleeing to their homes as a dragon roared above them, circling as he watched the tiny mortals with amusement. The six feared he would do something horrible like burn it down, but instead, he flew around, scaring the locals like a bully. It seemed foolish to just show up in an armed population and fly around to cause fear, but considering the strength and prowess of dragons, they appeared not to fear anything.

This was not just because of their strong scales, powerful jaws, and mighty wings. It was because of a dragon's most potent ability, known as the "Thu'um" or "Voice." The power of said Thu'um was then shown as multiplied dragons began breathing fire, ice, lighting, and other such effects from their jaws at each other. This was a fierce battle, but how they treated their attacks was like a conversation or debate.

The Dov's language was not just a means of speech but a powerful mystical ability. The very notion of it was beyond mere comprehension, and even learning (much less understanding) even a single word of power would take years of study.

"Years?! How could they even learn such a language?!" Smolder asks in disbelief.

"Well, the narrator said they were immortal. That's plenty of time," Silverstream pointed out.

"So basically, by the time we could learn or say a sentence in dragon tongue, we'd all be getting our final rites in our coffins, huh?" Gallus joked. "I'll stick to learning Prench.

It turned out to be more than just learning. The very comprehension of the Thu'um was woven into the very being of every dragon. They were born understanding it and could master it almost instantly. This is done by shouting, which has magical effects on the world around them. When a dragon breathes out fire, ice, or anything similar, he speaks his language to another dragon. It wasn't just a means of attack but communication. Because of this, the battles between Dov are deadly verbal debates.

"That sounds weird," Sandbar said with a raised eyebrow. "That's like telling someone hello by stabbing them with a sword."

For a Dov, the one with the loudest and most powerful Voice leads them. The one who speaks the most and beats the others is the declared winner and is seen as correct in the debate. In other words, the most powerful is always the most followed.

"Well, guess that's one thing we have in common," Smolder agreed.

How did such beings come into power in the first place? It turned out that it was because they were the children of Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time. He created them; thus, they are bound to the fabrics of time itself. Unlike mortals, dragons have a special connection to the bones of Tamriel. They are forever connected to it, both physically and spiritually. They have been here, were here, and always will be here. They are beyond the understanding of mortals and forever will be.

"Wait, so they just...exist? That's it?" Ocellus asks.

Apparently so. There was no record of dragons mating with one another nor any finding of dragon eggs or dragonlings.

"Wait, so...how...wait," Smolder was confused. "I'm trying to process this. They don't have children, they don't have families, and all of these guys look male-"

"How can you tell?" Silverstream asked.

"I just can," Smolder said with a huff. "Are you telling me that dragons just pop out of the ground?"

"Looks like it," Yona said.

"That makes no sense!" Both Smolder and Ocellus shouted at the same time.

It turned out that Smolder was technically wrong. Despite their deep-sounding voices and appearances, dragons were genderless. Not only that, but they were unable to die as well. Sure, their physical bodies could be destroyed, but their souls survived even to death, making them virtually unkillable as they could be revived easily.

"Wow, no wonder their debates are to the death. You can just survive a spike of ice to the heart, wake up a few days later, and just accept you lost as if it was a speech contest," Gallus muttered.

However, there was one being they feared. One being that was strong enough to defeat dragons and claim their souls to give them a longer-lasting death that scared them. A single being that was known as "Dovahkiin."

Dragonborn.

"Wait, that's a Dragonborn?!" Smolder asked in surprise. "A dragon killer?"

A cloaked figure shouted three words and a wave of energy was unleashed, which destroyed the entire temple he was in, shocking them all. A Dragonborn may have the body of a mortal, but he had the soul and blood of a dragon. He was a mortal who could instantly learn all Words of Power and use them for whatever purpose he wished, as evidenced by an armored figure in barbarian clothing and weapons standing before a wall of words and one of them unleashing blue energy that he absorbed into his body.

The Dragonborn was the most feared enemy a dragon could face. Not only could they match them, Voice to Voice, but should the dragon be slain by a Dragonborn, his soul was absorbed into the Dragonborn and made him stronger with the knowledge he possessed. Once a dragon's soul is absorbed, it is gone—permanently.

Suddenly, everyone turned to Smolder, who was shivering in fear. Her eyes widened in terror at the figure standing before a dead dragon and taking its soul. Smolder backed away and shivered as she wrapped her tail around her. The idea of such a thing being possible made her afraid—no, terrified.

It was one thing to be killed, but to be erased from existence with your soul devoured by some being that was born to kill your kind?

It was the stuff of nightmares.

"...I vote we never find this Dragonborn, for Smolder's sake," Sandbar said.

"Agreed," The others said.

The good news was that they were rare to find. Even two in an era was so uncommon it was almost impossible. Yet they were some of the most influential people in the history of Tamriel, often as rulers. One of them was Tiber Septim, the founder of the Third Empire.

"I guess it makes sense," Gallus said with a nod. "If someone with the soul of a dragon can kill dragons easily, then I doubt anyone would debate whether they are king or queen."

Next to appear on screen was something that soon scared them all. Even Smolder, a dragon herself, couldn't help but feel a similar terror as she did with the Dragonborn upon seeing this specific dragon. It was black and purple as night itself. Its blood-red eyes held such rage and destruction that it appeared ready to burn the world down and rule over the ashes. It was the largest of the dragons they had seen so far, and even Smolder had a feeling that most, if not all, her kind would have trouble fighting this...behemoth.

This was the "First Born Of Akatosh, " meaning he was the first dragon to be made. His name is Alduin. It was believed that he and his kin came from the continent of Akavir, a land heavily influenced by dragons. From there, they spread their wings and flew all over the world. When the humans from Atmora arrived and overthrew the elves years later, the dragons came. Recognizing them as the superior species, the future Nords bowed to them and worshiped them. Naturally, the Dovah accepted this worship as they already saw themselves as superior to all. Power equals truth as the most powerful, and their truth is correct.

While the ruling was just at first, they began to share a small amount of power with their chosen Dragon Priests, who became just as worshiped and feared as the dragons. Over time, however, the Dragon Priests began to rule with an iron fist. Instead of subjects, the people were slaves. However, as is the fate of all slaves and masters, the slaves soon rebelled against their masters, both Priest and Dragon.

"Of course, this happened," Sandbar sighed. "Why do those in power always become corrupt in these things?"

"Just the nature of the way it is," Gallus said with a shrug. "True honest rulers are rare."

The Dragon War was one of the most bloody conflicts in Tamriel's history. It was also very one-sided. The dragons were just too powerful, and thousands of men and women died in agony and blood.

"Told ya," Gallus said with a smirk.

It would seem that the human race would be destroyed, but the Adrea gazed upon Man and had pity. Kyne, the Goddess of the Sky, spoke to Paarthurnax, Alduin's right hand, and told him to help the mortals. Paarthurnax, who had felt sympathy for them, agreed to betray his former best friend and brother figure with the aid of those who believed in his cause. He taught them the Voice of mankind.

"Guess there are some good dragons too, huh?" Sandbar said with a nod.

The Nords banished Alduin from Nirn, allowing them to be free at last. The dragons that had survived fled to remote areas to live alone and away from Men. The once dominant race of dragons was no more.

"Eh, nothing lasts forever," Smolder said with a shrug. "Besides, they were a bunch of jerks, even for dragons."

Strangely enough, the Dragon Cult still survived. Believing their masters would rise again, they built burial mounds for the bones of the dragons who had been slain. However, Man grew in this time and became leaders, warriors, and emperors. Ruling vast kingdoms of their own. One such kingdom would become the center point of many great empires.

It was the center most nation of Tamriel, one that used the dragon itself as a symbol of dominance. But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Hey guys, here is an update. I promise the next story I update is Regeneration. About time I got back into tthat

The Imperials of Cyrodiil

Chapter 11

Imperials of Cyrodiill

The first scene shown in the video was the Gold-White Tower, which has always been the center of power for Cyrodiill and all the empires that came after it was made. The Ruby Throne has been fought in so much bloodshed it was a miracle that the rivers around it didn't run red. Since Cyrodiill was the center province of Tamriel, it is no surprise that it has played an enormous role in world events. Often, events that happen in Cyrodiill echo across the continent, with all provinces affected by it.

"Kinda like how Canterlot is the capital of Equestria, and its actions affect the rest of the nation," Sandbar pointed out.

"Only that's one city. This is a nation affecting other nations," Ocellus pointed out.

The luscious green fields, beautiful trees, and open blue sky made Cyrodiill look like a wonderful place to live. The center province held everything needed to make a nation run perfectly regarding the environment. Many of the six couldn't help but consider it similar to Equestria in terms of atmosphere, with the state of nature being perfect for all life. The luscious blue rivers and perfect soil have made farming a breeze for its citizens, but its most significant import was wine. The vineyards of many affluent wine sellers owe their wealth to the beauty and fertile nature of Cyrodiill's land.

Of course, this wasn't just the only kind of atmosphere you would find in Cyrodiill. Since it bordered practically every other province, many different types of environment suited everyone. Up north, there was winter tundra from Skyrim, hot deserts from the west near Hammerfell, and swamps near the south from Black Marsh. Each of them is perfect for the various citizens and the diversity of the biosphere.

"Wow, imagine if there was a nation that had all of that for us?" Silverstream said.

"Equestria fits mostly for ponies but it does have some locations suitable for hippogriffs, griffins, and changelings. Yaks and dragons have a bit of a harder time finding a perfect spot," Ocellus says as she takes more notes.

Though a diverse nation, it was primarily human, and its rulers were mostly human. They were known as the Imperials. Said Imperials were similar to the humans that the group had seen in Fallout, only more robust, taller, more proud-looking, and firm. Each was different in skin color, eye color, hair color, weight, and more. The only difference between them and the Nords was that their hair was shorter, with fewer beards and bulkiness, and the women were thinner.

While the Imperials were known as the conquerors of the realms, with all significant empires coming from them, they were not bloodthirsty, sword-wielding savages. In fact, they were considered the best diplomats out of all the races of Tamriel. Be it negotiating peace or bartering for goods, the Imperials were all masters of silver tongues. Because of that, they were best known for seeking the cooperation of other races in their goals, uniting them for a common goal, no matter how small or big.

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," Sandbar said with a big smile. "Finally, a race of people that talk instead of fight."

"Yeah, and did you hear how they get all the other races to work together?! That sounds like something we have back home!" Silverstream cheerfully said.

"Guess the magic of friendship does exist here. Even if it's a bit weird," Gallus said.

The Imperials were not just masters of the tongue and pen, but they were also great fighters. There was a reason why many Empires were forged in their hands. The Imperial Legion, currently seen training in one of their bunkers, was one of the most potent military forces in Tamriel. Disciplined, strategic, and unified, they were an army unlike any other seen outside of Tamriel. If the people of Skyrim could be called warriors, then the Imperials would be soldiers.

"What's the difference?" Smolder asked in confusion. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Yak don't understand either. Warriors are soldiers," Yona pointed out.

"I think it's more of the line that warriors independently fight while part of a group while soldiers work together as a unit to fight," Gallus theorized.

The scene then showed an Imperial General looking over a map and pointing to various locations to his officers while moving pieces. Military strategy was highly favored in Imperial Legion doctrine. Some of the finest minds regarding military action had come from Cyrodiill. However, they did have some weaknesses. They lacked full-on mastery of strength, magic, and specific skills like the other races, such as the Nord's great strength or the expert wielding of magic like the Bretons. But what they made up for was their ability to master multiple skills at a time. They might never be masters, but they would be diverse enough to deal with those who were.

"So they're essential jack-of-all-trades," Ocellus said in understanding. "Experts in all but master of none."

Because of this flexibility, the Imperials constantly adapted and changed their strategy. One tactic could be switched to another on the fly, and defeat can be turned into a new victory by learning what went wrong and avoiding it. Because of this, they are seen as the peacekeepers of the empire. In peacetime, the Imperial Legions mostly protected the various cities and provinces under the Empire's rule. No matter the location or the people, the Imperial would defend them from bandits, monsters, or even the upstart cult. In times of war, they were a wave of invading forces that planned ahead and struck the enemy from multiple directions with their numbers and tactics.

Of course, the Legion is not a horde of barbarians. They plan their battles and fight when necessary. They never rush and plan logistics for a long war and occupation. Every aspect is analyzed and taken into consideration before going to war. They also had another advantage that made them unique. While most armies in the provinces consisted of their own respective races, the Imperial Legion had all of them working together. Elves, Orcs, Man, and Beast races from all the realms were treated equally in the Legion, with some non-humans even making it to the highest officer posts. Thanks to their unique skills, the Imperial Legion had access to hundreds of ways to combat their enemies.

"Wow, the Royal Guard doesn't even have non-ponies in their ranks," Sandbar said in awe. "Can you imagine if all our races were working together for the Equestrian Army?"

"It would make the Guard a lot more diverse tactically, for sure," Gallus said as he began to list a few things. "The griffins would be an extra air force to go with the pegasi while also using our hunting instincts to act as ambushers. The yaks are excellent chargers and blitzkrieg users. The Hippogriffs can be both an air force and a sea force simultaneously. Changelings make great scouts, spies, and assassins. And Dragons can be the hammer that obliterates the enemy."

This managed to get him stared at by the others in surprise as Gallus tilted his head. "What?"

"Since when did you start reading The Art of War?" Smolder snorted and smirked. "You sound like Twilight's brother."

"It just made sense to me," Gallus said with a shrug.

"Maybe friend Gallus should consider joining the Royal Guard?" Yona suggested.

"Nah, can you see me living as a soldier?" Gallus chuckled as he relaxed and continued to watch the video. Though, he couldn't help but think of himself in the Royal Guard outfit every so often.

The diversity of the Imperial Legion wasn't just the only example of its cosmopolitan mindset. Even in their civilian society, such a belief stood out. Tamriel might have been home to the Imperials, but they considered the non-Imperials citizens equal to them. This was unique as most of the races in their provinces preferred their own people over outsiders. For Cyrodiill, so long as you devoted yourself to the Empire and its beliefs, you were one of them in their community.

Thanks to this cooperation and desire to get to know other races, trade was one of the most essential crafts in Imperial society. Being the center province they had access to all the other provinces by way of road and sea. Thus, various exotic goods came into Cyrodiill, and many imported goods such as wine, magical crystals, unique armor, and more flowed out. If another province wanted to trade to another province, such as Hammerfell to Morrowind, it would find a faster route going through Cyrodiill. Because of this, Cyrodiill had plenty of coffers of coin from traders who paid fees to travel through the province to trade and protection with the Imperial Legion, who patrolled the trade routes vigorously.

"Can you say ka-ching!" Smolder grinned at the thought of such wealth.

The story of the Imperial race is one of oppression, revolution, and domination. According to history, mankind on Tamriel came from two different groups, the Nords who arrived at Atmora and the various tribes of humans that live in the various locations of Cyrodiill. It was these tribes that were enslaved by the elven races, particularly the Ayleids. The Ayleids cruelly forced the Imperials to serve them, mistreated them, and made them feel like cattle. However, their fate was forever changed thanks to one woman the six recognized quickly as the woman from the start of the series staring at the White-Gold Tower.

Her name was Alyssia. She grew up as a slave under the Ayleids, who worshiped the Daedra as a means to keep the younger race of man under their control with sacrifices to them.

"Okay, these guys are flankholes," Sandbar grumbled, with nobody disagreeing.

One night, Alyssia prayed to the Aedra for her people's deliverance from their fate. To the amazement of all, they answered. Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time, gave Alyssia his blessing, which made her St. Alyssia. His gift was his dragon blood, which would flow through her veins and through the veins of her descendants. Along with it was a ruby jewel unlike any other called "The Amulet of Kings," made from Akatosh's own blood.

"So pretty!" Silverstream gasped with sparkles in her eyes.

"So delicious!" Smolder gasped with drool coming out of her mouth.

Through the Amulet was a promise made by Akatosh. So long as the people of Tamriel worshiped the Divines and so long as Alyssia's blood stood on the Ruby Throne, Akatosh and his kin would create a strong barrier between Tamriel and Oblivion to prevent the Daedra from having any significant foothold on it. With this promise and power, St. Alyssia united her people and caused a great rebellion that saw Cyrodiill seep in elven blood. With aid from the Nords, the united race of man overthrew the elves, and a new era was born. St. Alyssa was seen being crowned Queen, and all mankind bowed to her, thus starting the First Empire.

"You go, girl! Show those slavers whose boss!" Ocellus cheered.

"It's like something from a legend you read in a book. A divine warrior blessed by the gods, rising from impossible odds, triumphs, and building a golden age," Sandbar said with glee. "It's almost like a story."

One of the first things the new government did was establish a new religion that the Imperials and Nords would worship together. She established the Faith of The Eight Divines, a combination of the Elven and Human beliefs into one faith. This worked out so well that the religion was still Tamriel's dominant faith even to this day. As the First Empire grew, even past the extensions of their once-elven masters at their height, the race of man seemed to be on the verge of complete control. Sadly, it did fall, leaving Cyrodiil in a bloody civil war for centuries.

As is most of history, the lack of a united leader caused a divide in Cyrodiil, but that was until danger came that united them back as one. The Akaviri from the far east made coast in Morrowind and were coming to invade all of Tamriel to forge their own Empire.

"They look like samurai," Sandbar said in shock.

"Like the ones from Neighpon?" Ocellus said.

"Yeah, kinda weird to see that here too."

The Akaviri seemed unstoppable until someone stopped them. A man who would be a legend among all of Imperials: Reman Cyrodiil.

"Wait, isn't the land called Cyrodiil? Was he named after it, or was the land named after him?" Gallus asked.

Reman Cyrodiil knew that he needed to unite his people and others to fight the Akaviri and proceed to do so. Not just the Imperials, but Nords, Argonians, Dark Elves, and more flocked to his side. Reman was not just a powerful general and warrior but also a negotiator. So much so that when the Akaviri were defeated, rather than slaughter them, he convinced them to join him and help him forge a new empire. Admiring him greatly, they agreed and swore their alliance to him. Their combined power saw him take over most of Tamriel, and the Second Empire had dawned.

"Holy cow, he not only beat them but got them to swear their oaths to him! Talk about a badass!" Smolder said in delight.

Sadly, like all empires, they fell at some point, and Reman Cyrodiil's empire was no different as it was lost hundreds of years later. This gave birth to the "Interregnum," which was the darkest moment in Tamriel as society collapsed, Daedra invaded, and wars were fought on a near-constant basis. As for Cyrodiil, the nation collapsed into a state of warlords who fought each other for resources in a state of no-man's land.

"Anyone else seeing a pattern here?" Ocellus asked as she looked at her notes.

"Makes you wonder if Equestria will ever meet an end at some point," Gallus whispered.

"I don't even want to think about it," Sandbar gulped.

It would take Tiber Septim's Third Empire to unite Cyrodiil and all of Tamriel into the greatest civilization that Tamriel had ever seen. The most potent and united empire to ever exist. A state of peace that has lasted for centuries, but the question is for how long? If history has taught us anything, it is that Empires eventually fall. For now, they bask in their glory and the fact that they have left their mark on society. Ironically, the Imperials were very similar in this way to their former masters.

But that is a story for another day.

Author's Note

Hey guys, here you go with another chapter. Hope you enjoy.

Ayleid Elves of Cyrodiil

Chapter 12

Ayleid Elves of Cyrodiil

"So these are the elves that enslaved the humans of Cyrodiil?" Silverstream asked as the opening began. "Why do we have to learn about them?"

"I guess it's kind of like how we learned about Caeser from the Wasteland," Gallus shrugged. "Sometimes, you need to learn about the bad guys."

It turned out that there was a more significant reason. Out of all the races of Tamriel, the Ayleid Elves would be known as the "First." Not just the first to sit upon the Ruby Throne but also among the first civilizations and advanced people that could be equal to that of the Dwemer Empire. They were said to be the first Empire that had charted the course for many in the ages to follow ever after their downfall. Every great Empire in history owes its groundwork to the Ayleid Elves, who stood proudly in their golden armor among the White-Gold Tower they built. Ironically, the Empires of Man owed the beginnings and foundations to the elves that enslaved them.

"You know, when you think about it, all Empires are often built upon the ashes and remains of the old ones that use them as a foundation," Ocellus recalled

"Yeah, even we dragons still use some of the foundations from the old Dragon Empire in our society," Smolder said.
"Same with griffins from the old Griffin Empire," Gallus recalled.

"And a few traditions and beliefs from the three tribes' days for us at Equestria," Sandbar said happily.

Though not as technologically advanced as the Dwemer, they were masters of culture, governance, and Magic that saw them well ahead of all other races. Their many kingdoms stretched across the land and united under one Empire. While mankind was still using caves, tents, and campfires, the Ayleid Elves built cities, monuments, and works of art that made them the shining light in the dark beginning ages of civilization. The cradle to all walks of life. No more was this evident than the visual comparison of the dirty and tribal humans speaking in a broken language while seeing the Ayleid Elves hosting parties in beautiful gardens of luscious green surrounded by white art columns.

"Wow, it's like comparing Yakyakistan to the Crystal Empire," Gallus whispered.

"What does that mean?!" Yona glared.

"Nothing," Gallus quickly said before whistling while Yona turned away but gave a grumble while doing so.
The Ayleid Elves' main home was the central province of Cyrodiil, thus giving them the name "Heartland High Elves." A similar name to the other High Elves because, like all elves, they originally came from the Summerset Isles. Naturally, being elven, they were gifted with the powers of Magic, but they were even more renowned for it than their Summerset Isle brethren. One Ayleid Elf warrior was seen practicing with a flame-powered sword and shield, which made the group stare in awe. The arcane arts were the Ayleid Elves' bread and butter. Everything from their cities to clothing was made with Magic or constructed to have some unique magical property. Even today, their ruins contain Magic, with historians theorizing they were so advanced they could even gather Magic from the stars.

One of their most well-known objects was a unique blue stone shown on screen lying on a black shrine. These stones held magical energies that the Ayleid Elves used to repower themselves. Allowing them to use Magic longer than most others could.

Another well-known object of interest was the Ayleid Wells. These large white wells found all over Cyrodiil, were often sought after by travelers. These glowing, light-filled wells were not found anywhere else in the world. An elven mage walked up to one at night and absorbed the Magic inside it. It was from these wells that one drew Magic gathered from the said stars. If a mage desperately needed more Magic to repower themselves, this was like a spring to a person needing water.
"Wow, that makes unicorns look like chimpanzees to these guys," Ocellus whispers as took down notes.

"I wonder if that's similar to how Princess Luna uses her magic?" Sandbar asked, knowing the Night Princess's abilities tied to the celestial sky.

"How does one gather magic from a star anyway?" Gallus asked.

"Maybe they ask it politely?" Silverstream suggested with a smile.

"Yeah, that would be funny. Oh, hey? Mr. Ball Of Gas? Can I borrow some of your Magic to power my lantern? Thanks," Gallus joked, which made Silverstream giggle.

Another kind of unique stone made by the Ayleid Elves, a white stone, was known as a Varla Stone. Varla Stones were unique in that they were supercharged enchanted items unlike any other known means before. Be it a sword of elements or an armor of shadow, a single Varla Stone could recharge magical items to their full strength in seconds. This was useful in warfare as anyone with these stones could recharge their equipment to full power if drained in the middle of a battle.

"So basically, they're like the Dwemer except more magical-focused instead of technology-focused," Sandbar pointed out. "I wonder if a society ever combined both perfectly?"

"I wonder who would win in an all-out war?" Smolder asked.

Regarding faith, the Ayleid Elves believed that the world was composed of elements. For instance, the world was composed of Earth, Water, Air, and Light. To them, the most spiritual and powerful element was Starlight.
"Starlight isn't an element," Ocellus said in confusion.

"Yona thought Starlight, our teacher?" Yona said in confusion.

"Not that kind of starlight, Yona," Ocellus giggled.

Starlight was said to be the barrier between Mundus and Atherius. Mundus is the mortal realm, and Atheirius is the immortal realm of the Aedra and spirits. It is said that Magnus, God of Magic, was the one to tear the veil between the two realms, which gave the sun, moons, and stars and allowed Magic to be drawn from the heavens. Because of this, believing that their gifts of Magic were from the Aedra, they, too, worshiped the Aedra like most of their elven brethren.

One unique fact that had been forgotten in history was that the White-Gold Tower, the symbol of government for the many Empires to come, was not originally the heart of the Ayleid government. Instead, it was a monument built to the legacy of the Aedra and nothing more. It went by the name "Temple of the Ancestors," which was dedicated to the ownership of their past ancestors and the Aedra.

"So, the big shiny white tower is actually a church?" Yona realized.

"Seems that way," Sandbar said.

For most races of Tamriel, you either worshiped the Aedra or the Daedra. The Ayleid Elves were different in that they were willing to worship both. This got the attention of the others, who looked at each other in confusion.

"Wait, aren't the Aedra and Daedra total opposites in terms of what they are?" Smolder pointed out.

"Yeah, so why worship both?" Ocellus asked as she looked over her notes. The two sets of gods were not even close regarding similarities save for their divine nature.

The Ayleid Elves desired power to ensure that their Empire stayed in control, so while they freely worshipped and praised the Aedra on one side, they also conspired with the Daedra on the other. An underground temple dedicated to Mehrunes Dagon could be seen with their followers indulging in dark worship, making the students weary.

The worship of the Daedra was so great that the Ayleid Elves were said to have thousands of Daedra under their command, forming vast armies that allowed them to conquer and wage war against their enemies. Combined with the power of the Aedra through magical inventions and abilities, the Ayleid Elves were a nearly unstoppable force that saw them as one of the most, if not THE most, powerful forces on Tamriel. When the image of a human trapped in a small cage hanging above was seen, the group knew this wouldn't be an empire of good tidings and enlightenment.

"Yeah, getting Caesar vibes with this," Smolder sighed.

"Why can't advanced civilizations just be good?" Sandbar wondered out loud while shaking his head.

The story of the Ayleid Elves is one of migration, domination, and self-destruction. A warning to all Empires that would come in the future. Much like all elven origins, they came initially from the Elven continent of Aldmeris, where the Ancient Altmer left and landed on the Summerset Isles. Much like the Dwemer and Chimer (aka the future Dunmer), the Ayleids broke away from the Isles, but the reason remains a mystery, though most can assume it was similar to the Chimer. After all, Daedra worship is outlawed in the Summerset Isles even today. So it makes sense they were either banished or left to be accessible to practice worshiping both sets of gods.

Regardless, the Ayleids found themselves in Cyrodiil and soon took over it with their ambition and desires for power. For all the criticism the elves give mankind for its greed and hunger for power, nobody desired control and domination more than the Ayleid Elves. This desire for power made them do amazing and terrible things that would forever change everything.
"I guess power is power, and it corrupts anyone regardless of who it is," Sandbar said sadly.

The Ayleid Civilization achieved much in the highlight of its golden age. Even today, scholars are baffled by how the Ayleids achieved so much. Their advancements in culture and Magic remain, to this day, unequaled and unknown, especially after their downfall. Yet, despite achieving much, the Ayleids desired more and more power. Using their Daedric forces, they subjected and enslaved the tribes of mankind who did their best to resist their elven oppressors. One by one, they failed and were put in chains to serve their new masters.

"This is terrible," Silverstream whispered as she watched one tribe get slaughtered until they surrendered and were put in chains.

"Remember that this is how things were back then," Ocellus pointed out. "Even our own history had eras where slavery was normal."

The group watched as humans were made slaves for various positions and reasons. You saw your average servant slave who cooked and cleaned, such as sweeping their master's study room. However, the main thing that they were used for was to maintain their infrastructure and power. You see, while humans answered to the elves, the elves had to respond to the Daedra, who desired payment for their power.

"I do not like the sound of that," Sandbar gulped.

Daedric masters desired many things as payment for the use of their powers. Primarily sacrifices.
"And I hate being right."

Customary sacrifices to the Daedra were sinister and cruel, but the Ayleid Elves turned it into an art form. The group gasped in horror and felt their jaws drop. Hearts weeping in horror as they learned of the atrocities that the Ayleid Elves committed that were so infamous even the Elves of today looked at it in disgust despite their distrust of man. Every single one of them was silently crying upon seeing bloody sacrifice altars and hearing of the horrific actions, including the burning of human children.

"I'm going to be sick," Gallus muttered as a trashcan appeared out of thin air, thanks to a certain mad god. He didn't even question it; he just took it and puked.

"... I'm glad they got destroyed," Sandbar muttered darkly. "The Ayleid Elves got what they deserved."
Nobody retorted that.

Despite having a vast, powerful empire that had lasted for centuries, the Ayleid Elves' weakness was soon made clear. They did not know the meaning of "enough" and desired more and more power. It got so bad that they started fighting among themselves, and the weakening cracks of their Empire were already beginning to show.

The Civil War weakened the Ayleid Elves, and the humans of Cyrodiil were starting to realize they had a chance to revolt. They were also encouraged by the recent actions of the Nords in Skyrim, who had overthrown the Snow Elves. This proved that the Elves, despite their great power, were not invincible and could be taken down. Providing aid to their human brethren, the Nords gave the humans of Cyrodiil the means to start fighting back. All they needed was a leader, and she came: The Slave Queen Alessia.

None of the six shed tears upon seeing the human revolutionists fighting against the Ayleid Elves. The Ayleid Empire fell and gave way to the Alessian Empire in less than a year due to the Civil War weakening them. This would be the mark when power in Tamriel was forever shifted from the Elves to the races of Man. The downfall of the Ayleid Empire has been known for countless ages. A story of how the oppressed can turn on their oppressors and how slaves can one day earn their freedom

"Sounds like a good story to tell at firepits of home!" Yona claimed. "Have all things yaks love in stories."

"Including smashing stuff?" Smolder asked with a smirk.

"Yes! Lots of smashing!"

However, one thing that wasn't often told, for various reasons, was that the rebellion wasn't all humans vs. elves. There were numerous Ayleid Elves who aided the humans. Not all of them were pompous, bigoted Daedric users. Many saw the decadence of their Empire and saw that there was no saving it while pitying the race of man. Many swore their swords to Alessia and died side by side with men, seeking a better Empire for both humans and themselves.

"Well, that's good to know! It shows that not everyone in a single race is the same," Silverstream pointed out.

"Yeah, that was the lesson Spike and Thorax told the ponies of Equestria, and look at us now!" Ocellus said happily.

When the rebellion was over, many Ayleid allies served as nobles or loyal vessels to the new human government, ruling and living with them side by side. After all, they knew how to manage an empire better than anyone. Sadly, old hatred dies hard. After Alessia's death, a new order took root called the Alessian Order, which was dedicated to the eradication of all things elven. Their hatred for Elves was so intense that they managed to end the Ayleid nobility, despite once being their allies, and expelled them from the land and forced them to live as nomads away from the nation they once called home.
"What?! How could they do that?! Those elves helped them gain their freedom, and they just betrayed them like that?!" Silverstream shouted in both shock and anger.

"Old grudges don't fade away easily. Especially after a thousand years of enslavement," Gallus remarked.

The Ayleid Elves were once the greatest civilization and most powerful, only to become exiled in their hubris actions. While nobody has seen a pure-blooded Ayleid since it is assumed that they are still out there either living in isolation or having mixed with other societies as their bloodlines still continue. Despite primarily being human, many of those bloodlines live in Cyrodiil and High Rock, home of the Bretons. After all, the Bretons were both humans and elven at the same time, half-breeds who carried the blood of both, which made them a unique race.

But that is a story for another day.

Author's Note

Sorry I haven't been active. Summer is always a busy time for me and lot of stuff happened this week. Enjoy the chapter

The Bretons of High Rock

“HELLO MORTALS! SHEOGORATH HERE!”

“Before we begin, we have some news that might be sad for you mortals to hear about which honestly I could care less about but I hear it’s good for the soul. Much like cheese!”

“On Saturday, September 7th, 2024, Jason Damron, aka Kankennon, aka The Fallout Storyteller, passed away from Stage 4 Adrenal Cancer”

“Since this entire thing was started thanks to the Shoddycast Fallout Lore series, the writer would like to say special thanks to the Storyteller for being one of his favorite characters in YouTube history. Too bad we never found out his name, huh?!”

“To watch the tribute done in his honor, click here with those little mouses of yours. And you better click on it or I’ll turn that mouse into a real one and have it eat our eyeballs. With a nice dash of jam!”

“Now with that out of the way, let us continue!”

“...What is he talking about?” Gallus asked Sandbar.

“I have no cl-”

Chapter 13

Breton's of High Rock

After that strange interruption from the mad god that left them with more questions than answers (Something the group suspected would be expected), Student Six sat down and prepared to watch the following video. Ocellus looked at her notes and scratched her head. "So, these Bretons are...half-human and half-elf?"

"Is that even possible?" Silverstream asked in confusion. "They might look the same but are two different species."

"Well, it's not like our world doesn't have crossbreed races. Look at the kirins. They're the offspring of ponies and dragons from hundreds of years ago," Ocellus said.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about those guys," Smolder said with a blink. "Huh, we don't discuss them much in the dragon lands."

"Why not?" Sandbar asked.

"I don't know? They just never come up," Smolder said with a shrug.

"Probably because they were persecuted by both ponies and dragons at the time. It's why they prefer their isolation," Ocellus said.

"Well, Spike will be happy if he gets together with Rarity," Sandbar chuckled.

"Please, we all know that's not going to happen," Gallus snorted as he waved his hand. "He's totally going to be dating Gabby. When they started hanging out, they practically acted like a couple."

"I don't know," Ocellus rubbed her chin. "He might actually have a chance with King Thorax."

"He's got a crush on Rarity. Why would you think he's gay?" Smolder asked.

"You never know! He's still growing up to find out his sexuality!"

"Isn't it a bit disturbing that we're pairing Spike with creatures who are older than him?" Silverstream asked with uncertainty. "I mean, why not with any of the Cutie Mark Crusaders? They seem like good friends, and they are around his age."

"Spike's a dragon. He'll live a long life, so all he has to do is wait until a certain age, and that's not a problem," Smolder said with a smile. "Which is why I got my money on him and Dragon Lord Ember getting together."

"What about you, Yona?" Ocellus asked. "Do you think Spike will get together with anyone?"

"Princess Twilight!" Yona said, which made everyone rear back.

"What?! Yona, Twilight practically raised Spike!" Gallus said in shock.

"But Spike is's only friend of Twilight when other friends pass! Also, they are not related by blood! So, no incest! And they are close!" Yona said

"...I guess that's kinda true," Ocellus said before shaking her head. "Uh, let's just get to the video and move on from this."

"No arguments from me," Sandbar said with a nod.

High Rock lived up to its name, having many mountain passages that reminded Gallus of the Griffin Homeland. Castles of various sizes were seen on the bases or tops of these giant mountains, each grandly designed as if fit for an entire nation of nobles. According to Legend, it was High Rock that the Gods had not only started the creation of Nirn but also ruled it there for a time. The Adamantine Tower, similar in design to the White-Gold Tower in a way, stands as the oldest structure in Tamriel and was rumored to be the seat of the god as they created Nirn. Regardless of whether it is myth or fact, the elves discovered the tower long ago, and it was already built.

The map showed High Rock, described as a land of temperate climates, rolling hills, and incredible mountain paths. Its late summer/early autumn-like atmosphere was considered a popular attraction to many races over the years, chief among them being the Bretons, the hybrid race of humans and elves mating and bearing children. A female Breton was shown, and you'd be forgiven for thinking she was a human, but her eyes, ears, and stature were similar to that of an elf.

"I wonder how often people mistake Breton's for human or elf?" Sandbar wondered out loud.

Despite some discrimination, the Bretons benefited greatly as a hybrid race. Thanks to their combined elven magical blood and human physical prowess, they were considered the best battlemages in the realm.

"We got battlemages in the Royal Guard," Sandbar nodded. "They're unicorns considered among the best soldiers in the armed forces. I think Prince Shining Armor started out as one in his military career."

While technically, any Breton could be a combination of any of the Mer and Men races, most Bretons were offspring of the Altmer and the Nords. This is no surprise since the High Elves first discovered High Rock and occupied it, while Skyrim is their closest neighbor. People of a vibrant culture, Breton's were seen as poetic, flamboyant, intelligent, and active. However, this didn't include the word "united" politically; they were some of the most divided people in Tamriel. In fact, politics in High Rock was almost a deadly game in itself.

"Oh boy," Silverstream whimpered. "If it's anything like politics back home, then we're in for a doozy."

High Rock's political system was confusing, as there was not just one king but multiple. The same was true for queens, princes, dukes, nobles, and more. In fact, there were so many, with new ones rising and falling every hour, that it was said that every hill had a king. Despite this confusion, the tradition of so many nobles competing against one another was a time-honored tradition, and nobody in High Rock wished to see it end.

"So, how does anything get done?" Smolder asked in disbelief. "I mean, yeah, there are a lot of Dragon Clans who act like this, but we all still obey the Dragon Lord."

Thanks to the unique medieval culture, knighthood was a favorite occupation for many young Bretons. Such a young knight could be seen slaying a wild bear in triumph while looking proud of his accomplishment. These knights, with their code, dream of achieving great deeds to be granted noble states of their own. Entire orders of knights are even formed, and some even travel outside High Rock to find glory and prestige. These knights are seen as the pride of High Rock's national identity.

"Cool!" Silverstream said with glee.

However, this lifestyle has caused a gap between the rich and the poor. The middle class barely exists, and those unable to find power and money are often treated as dirt by humbling themselves to serve their superiors.

"Not cool," Silverstream moaned.

However, while it might seem like a poorly thought society, with many voicing their opinions on the concept of such a system, the Bretons embraced it. Even the poor. There was no greater challenge or reward than to rise above your station, and many tales have been told of poor peasants becoming rich and powerful nobles in High Rock's history.

"I guess that makes it slightly better," Ocellus said as she took more notes. "Unlike most caste-based systems, where you are stuck in your caste for life, you have the means to rise above your station if you work hard enough."

"Plus, everyone likes a good underdog story," Gallus pointed out.

The first recorded instance of the Bretons being discovered was when a Nord war party, believing they were elves, slaughtered them and only realized that they were also of Skyrim blood. The group was disgusted that the Skyrim warriors did such a thing to a group of innocent people, even if the tensions between humans and elves at the time were hostile.

Further investigation by the Nords discovered they were the mixed breed between High Elves and one of their lost Nordic tribes far west in High Rock. The tribe's culture became absorbed into the High Elven one, and over time, between the various breeding between the two tribes, the Bretons were formed. The first generation of the Bretons were considered second-class citizens due to their mixed blood. Still, as centuries passed, they soon became the dominant population, and their kind became nobles. Be it Elven or Breton, High Rock has always been ruled by nobles and will continue to be so.

"The life of an oligarchic society," Ocellus shrugged.

However, no clan was more successful early on than Clan Direnn, who established their Hegemony after they emerged victorious through political maneuvering and devious machinations. Originally a merchant family, it was hard to believe that they ended up ruling over the various fighting kingdoms that comprised the lands of High Rock. But the reason for its success all started thanks to the Ayleids.

"Wait, the Ayleids?!" The six said, as they weren't expecting to hear from them again so soon.

"I thought they all got wiped out?" Sandbar asked in confusion.

When the narrator reminded them of those exiled after their Empire's downfall, Ocellus gasped. "Oh yeah, I forgot about them! Are we gonna learn what happened to them?!"

Clan Direnn welcomed the exiles as part of their clan. With the power of the Ayleids, who once commanded the first great Empire of Tamriel, Clan Direnn found itself rising to power. It soon became known as the "Hegemony of Direnn." They grew to such great heights that they took over a quarter of Tamriel, including parts of Skyrim and Hammefell.

However, like all Empires, they too fell. From their end, the Bretons would rise. Having grown in population over the centuries, the Bretons soon overpopulated all the non-Bretons. They began establishing themselves as the new nobility as the old elven bloodlines died. Thanks to living under the Elves, they slowly learned politics, culture, fighting, magic, and more. Unbeknown to them, the elves had crafted their successors who had watched, learned, and waited while playing the game of politics to their advantage. But the best lesson they learned? How to assimilate other cultures into their own.

"Ha! Elves beaten at their own game!" Yona claimed.

By the end of the First Era, High Rock belonged to the Bretons, but that didn't mean they stood united as a race. As evidenced by two Bretons fighting each other, they did learn a lot from the High Elves, but in turn, this created a hundred different kingdoms, with a hundred different kings, all fighting each other. The only thing that ended up stopping this was the invasion of Mogal Bal during the Second Era.

"It's amazing how that one incident caused so many infightings to end," Silverstream said in awe as the dark history was once again revealed.

"I think a demonic invasion is enough to put aside all differences for survival's sake," Sandbar pointed out.

"Kinda makes you wonder what really happened at that time," Gallus said.

For the first time in their history, the Bretons pledged themselves to a single High King, Emeric. Using politics and diplomacy, they were able to create an alliance called the "Daggerfall Covenant," which saw the Bretons ally themselves with their old enemies and rivals: the Orcs and the Redguard.

"Just like the Ebonheart Pact," Yona pointed out as she recalled the alliance between the Nords, Dark Elves, and Argonians.

After the threat was gone, the alliance fell apart. Emeric would be the first and only High King of High Rock. Come the Third Era, the Legions of Tiber Septim came, and although some Kingdoms were able to resist, the High Rock nobles realized that they had no chance and soon became part of the Empire. However, they were able to use their diplomacy and gifts of politics to make sure they benefited from this and slowly influenced the Empire in a certain way thanks to their machinations. So much so that many Emperors of the Third Era were Bretons themselves.

"Well, if you can't beat them? Join them and make it worthwhile," Smolder said with a grin.

Despite being under the control of the Imperials, the Bretons still never stopped their political fights with each other. And then something strange happened. It was called "The Miracle of Peace," also known as the Warp in the West. Although much of it is unknown, many say that the gods had intervened in High Rock to see it united. And although there was much destruction, what came out of it was a more united High Rock than ever since the time of High King Emeric. Where there were once hundreds of kingdoms, now only three stand united.

Daggerfall.

Wayrest

And Orsinium.

"I guess that's better, in a way?" Sandbar said in confusion.

"Considering there were like a hundred kingdoms fighting each other? Yeah," Gallus pointed out.

That being said, there was still one major issue. You see, Orsinium was technically not a Breton kingdom but belonged to a different race—one that the Bretons had rarely gotten along with, save for very few moments in history.

A green-skinned warrior race built from strife, struggle, and hardship. A race that had been mistreated for ages and yet found strength in it.

But that was a story for another day.

Author's Note

Yeah, a moment of silence for the Storyteller. He will be missed. Orcs are next

The Orcs of Orsinium

Chapter 14

Orcs of Orsinium

Orcs were common in the world the students had been a part of. They were known for being a violent, murdering, and ruthless race of raiders and warbands who caused chaos in the known world. More than once, some towns or cities find themselves under attack by an ork warband whose only goal is riches, violence, and bloody fun. To them, chaos was a delight, and life was all about causing as much. Even Discord, the embodiment of chaos, felt that they were a bunch of insane marauders. After all, he had a different view of chaos that didn't involve the loss of life.

In the old days, large armies of Orcs were seen as things to fear, but as civilization advanced, they could hold them back and break them easily. It wasn't like it once was in the old days when the sight of a large orc horde was a common fear. Nowadays, most orcs are like bandit clans or rouges at best. Just sent a regiment to deal with them and they were done. So it was a surprise and a dissatisfaction to know that they would be looking at the orcs next. Their first sight of them causes the group to pause for a second.

Although they had seen them previously, they weren't mentioned as much as the other races until now. Gallus rubbed his chin. "Huh, you know. Seeing them again? They aren't as scary-looking. Still ugly, but still."

"They're clearly human height or at least a bit taller, and they lack the demonic facial signs our Orcs have. Not to mention, ours are black and grey-skinned. These are mostly green-skinned," Ocellus pointed out while taking notes.

"You think they're still the same kind of Orcs in our world? I mean, they kinda clearly look bloodthirsty," Sandbar said.

They decided to focus on the video as it went on about the Orc strongholds. For them, strength is everything; thus, from the moment they are born, every male and female child learns how to fight as soon as they can walk. Having existed for so long, it was not uncommon to see Orc Strongholds in every area of Tamriel. They were the most independent race among the others, partly due to being seen as outcasts. This was partly due to their looks but mainly due to their lifestyle. Most saw them as brutal savages, but there was an undertone set of honor, survival, and inner-clan workings that saw everyone equal in the eyes of each other so long as they pulled their weight for the clan.

"Okay, now I feel a bit bad judging them upon hearing they're outcasts," Sandbar winced.

"Yeah, they don't sound so bad. Almost like dragons in a way," Smolder said.

"Or Yaks," Yona claimed.

Despite their brutality, orcs were among the most honor-bound of the races. They would never cheat you (though they might rob you point blank) and always hold to their word when they give it. They also would never pick a fight with someone who couldn't fight back like a child or the like. And if you won their loyalty, they would fight for you to the death. They also were never one to force others into enslavement, nor did they ever force their beliefs on anyone. Really, the only thing the Orcs were looking for was a damn good fight.

"So they're not complete monsters, but not really civilized?" Silverstream asked. "Sounds complex."

"Yona relates to Orks," She said in a serious tone. "They are different from others. They have their way of life and keep it out of pride. Even if others look down at them for it."

"...Yona, does that happen to you at school?" Sandbar asked out of concern.

Yona went very quiet as the others stared at her with worry. "...Sometimes. But yak not care. Yak got good friends who understand. That's all she needs."

The others smiled and nodded but couldn't help but still worry a bit.

A blood-covered orc with twin axes was seen charging and fighting many enemies with a berserker terror, making it clear why people feared his kind on the battlefield. They were scary enough as it was with their big frames and battle prowess. But when they unleashed their berserker side? You better stand clear.

Numerous Orc warriors were seen fighting and dying on the battlefield. Each wielding heavy armor and weapons that even Smolder and Gallus would find to wield. The strength of an orc is legendary, with practically all of them geared up with such substantial steel items that, for any other race, it would feel like carrying a horse.

Fighting an orc was deadly. The first instinct is to run and prey if you run into them. But if you had to stand your ground, you had to hit hard and fast. Even one blow to an orc wouldn't be enough to stop them. Orc weapons and armor were made from Orichalcum, one of the hardest metals known to Tamriel.

"Orichalcum! Holy emeralds! That's rare!" Smolder shouted in shock.

"Isn't that like one of the rarest and most deadliest metals in the world? So much so that it can cut through dragons like butter and even make Alicorns bleed?" Silverstream said in surprise.

"It is! It's said that the only major mine of it is said to only be located in the Minotaur's Islands!" Ocellus whispered. "Queen Chrysalis attempted to get someone to make a weapon to kill the Alicorns of Equestria, but the Minotaurs keep the mine such a well-guarded secret that even we couldn't find it."

"And the orcs got plenty of this stuff lying around? Wow. Better hope there isn't a major invasion or something," Gallus whistled.

The orcs were some of the best blacksmiths you could find in the land. Perfect rivals to those of the elves, who were just as good but were different in their methodology. Elven armor was made to be light, flashy, and pretty. Orc armor was downright ugly but practical, strong, and fit for war instead of looking good. The orcs did it best if you wanted something that got the job done, regardless of appearance.

"If I had to pick? I'd take the practicality of armor over the look of it any day," Smolder said.

"Professor Rarity might disagree with you," Gallus chuckled.

The translation of Orsimer, the actual name of the orcs, meant "Pariah Folk," which established what the other races of Tamriel thought of the green-skinned race. Many races see them as nothing more than brutes; their fighting prowess was the only notable factor that earned them any praise. While some orcs have risen above this prejudice, the entire race is seen with distrust. Nevertheless, many orcs leave their strongholds to find their place in the world and use their abilities to become something like many others.

Save for those who lived under the Imperial Empire, the orcs followed laws other than their own, called the Code of Malacath.

"Isn't he one of the Daedric Princes?" Sandbar asked in alarm.

"Yeah, I think he's worshiped by the Orcs as their creator," Ocellus said as she returned to her notes.

It was a simple set of rules. Don't steal, murder, or attack people for no reason (though there was a long list of exceptions). Jails didn't exist in their society as they found it a waste of time and resources, so you either pay your crime in labor, money, or blood. All strongholds were run by the chiefs, who were the strongest males of the tribe and made all decisions based on the Code. The males served him while the females, all of them, were either his wives or daughters save for the "Wise Woman," who handled all things spiritual.

"Wait, every female is this guy's mate?" Smolder asked in disgust. "Gross!"

"Sounds like a harem fantasy," Gallus shivered.

"Sounds like a recipe for disaster," Silverstream said as she shook her head. "How long until incest gets involved? There is a reason why the nobles back home keep records of all their bloodlines."

"Yona don't want to think that," Yona replied as she turned a big green.

As they watched some orcs fighting each other, they learned that the word "fighting" meant everything to them. You are born into this world fighting and most likely will die doing so. You had to fight for everything: pride, love, respect, wealth, comfort, and more. Survival was key for orcs, and they applied that mindset to everything.

That being said, growing old was seen as shameful. To the orcs, the elderly were weak and caused problems by having to take care of them. Dying of old age was also seen as shameful, so many orcs, especially the older ones, sought out a glorious death in a fight, especially if they started getting grey hair.

"Wait, they want to die young? They don't want to die old?" Sandbar asked as the others looked at each other in disbelief. "I don't...I don't get it..."

"Me neither," Ocellus whispered.

"Dying in honor is one thing, but dying in old age is not bad," Yona whimpered.

It only got more crazy as they saw a duel between a chief and one of his sons. The line of succession was always a duel to the death. When one of the Chief's sons believes he is ready to fight his father, they fight until one of them is dead.

"They even kill their own kin?! Just to rule?! That is barbaric!" Smolder shouted. "Not even dragons are that ruthless!"

Regardless of how others felt about such a lifestyle, it had made the Orcs some of Tamriel's most brutal and merciless killers. And they didn't care what others thought. It was their way of life, and they were happy with it.

"How does such a society even come to fruition like this?" Ocellus couldn't help but ask as she got her answer when the video changed.

The real origins of the Orks were shrouded in both mystery and myth. A few things were always consistent with it; one of them was a single name: Trinimac. As was explained before, the elves originated from the Summerset Isles until the great exodus of those like the Chimer. However, many elves didn't wish to see themselves separated for any reason, and one of them, Trinimac, tried to stop them. However, the Daedric Prince of Plots, Boetheia, loved seeing the elves separate themselves; thus, she devoured Trinimac and took on his form.

"She ate him and took on his form? Gross," Silverstream gagged.

"...Did ancient Changelings use to do that?" Smolder asked Ocellus nervously.

"What? No! We never did such a thing...I think?" Ocellus whispered as she rubbed her head. "Early changeling history is mostly lost to us..."

"Well, I don't think your species ever went that far," Sandbar said with a smile, and the others nodded to move on.

Boethiah succeeded in her efforts to divide the elves of Summerset Isles, but she didn't just stop there. Further chaos was done, but the story's focus was not on her but on what remained of Trinimac. Whether it was done by Boethiah on purpose or a twist of cruel fate, Trinimac wasn't really dead—or at least a part of him wasn't.

The remains of the one noble and respected Trinimac were transformed into a new Daedric Prince—the Prince of spurred, ostracized, The Sworn Oath, and blood curse: Malacath. Forevermore, he and his followers would be outcasts and discarded by the rest of society. In time, his followers turned from elves to the orcs of today, following their own code of honor and independence.

"So basically, Daedric Princes messed everything up. Again," Gallus summarized.

"So they were once elves, but now are orcs? Huh, quite the change," Smolder said.

Everywhere the orks went, they were looked upon with disgust and fear by the locals. While the orcs can be found anywhere they want, the largest population lives in Skyrm and High Rock. Even though most orcs wish to be left alone, their violent nature and reputation have divided them among the other mortal races for generations. Thus, this always led to bloodshed and the orcs leaving to pick up somewhere else.

Despite being around since the dawn of the first era, the orcs have never had a permanent country compared to the other races. It took a visionary by the name of Torug gro-Igron ("How do you spell that?!" Ocellus shouted) to start creating an actual orc civilization: Orsinium. It began with some huts, but as more and more orcs came to join, it thrived into a booming industrious city in the mountains of High Rock, which alerted the Bretons who originally dismissed them. Only now, they saw them as a threat.

In a rare moment of cooperation from the bickering nobles of High Rock, they decided to group together to deal with the Orcs who they saw as threats to their land. The Orcs will say they were just minding their own business, while the Bretons will say they were taking land that belonged to them. As with all disagreements that have no peaceful outcome, the only answer is war.

"War never changes," Sandbar sighed.

King Joile of Daggerfall sent a letter to Gaiden Shinji of Hammerfall, a renowned warrior with a clan of amazing swordsmen, seeking an alliance against the orcs who both felt were a threat to their people. The Bretons and the Redguard joined forces, in what would be many times in the future, to deal with the Orc barbarians, and thus the Siege of Orsinium began.

The six watched a short scene of a long thirty-year war between the Orcs and the alliance. Spells and blades are used in every sport. Hundreds drying in bloody ways. What should have been a quick war showed that the orcs were every dangerous fighter they had always been rumored to be.

"Why couldn't they just negotiate?" Silverstream asked with a sad tone. "Why does it always have to end in violence?"

"Makes me glad we're learning about friendship rather than war in our world," Gallus muttered as he comforted her.

Eventually, the orcs lost the battle but fought with honor to the very end and would be remembered in history for it. Even slaying the great Gaiden Shinji in the end, which shocked the Redguards. The siege was the longest in history and cemented the orcs as one of the greatest fighters among the races, but they sadly were once again forced to wonder as they did before. Time after time, the orcs would be treated in scorn only to be needed during great times of chaos when their fighting was required, such as the Cold Harbor Invasion in the Second Era. Ironically, the orcs would join their old enemies, the Bretons, and Redguard, to form the Daggerfall Covenant.

"Let me guess? They promised them something and turned their backs on them?" Smolder sighed.

While the orcs provided some of the best warriors and smiths for the alliance, they were cast aside again once it was over.

"Knew it."

During Tiber Septim's reign in the Third Era, the orcs held very little influence or effect from it. Unlike the other races, they still had no home at the time and thus were not affected by the Emperor's reign, save for those who would become citizens of such an empire. That said, a new visionary had come again to help them build a new home. His name was Gortwog gro-Nagorm ("What is with these names?!" Ocellus cried out) and he wanted to once again rebuild Orsinium.

"Huh, he looks more like a merchant noble than a warrior," Sandbar said as they saw him on the screen.

"Maybe sometimes you need a non-warrior to make a civilization," Ocellus said while struggling to write the name again.

Unlike his fellow orcs, Gortwog gro-Nagorm was more about negation and politics than warfare. While some orcs might see that as a weakness, the results could not be disputed. He successfully gained power in High Rock of all places, earning alliance, favors, and wealth that allowed him to begin his dream of a new construction of Orisinum. He was so good at what he did that he managed to secure an audience with the Emperor.

At long last, after so many centuries, Orsinium was eventually reestablished once again. They established themselves as a powerful political force in the Empire through trade and political connections with the Imperial Throne.

"So it all ends in a happy ending!" Yona claimed.

But, once again, the Bretons felt threatened.

"Or not..."

Feeling the need to once again curb the power of the Orcs, the Bretons made plans to deal with them despite their ties. However, to do so, they needed help from their long-time allies, the Redguards of Hammerfall.

But that is a story for another day.

Author's Note

Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Redguard are next

A Mad God's New Playthings

It had been nearly half an hour since the Student Six had found themselves trapped in Gallus and Sandbar's room not long after finishing a series where they learned about an alternate reality. One where a great war had destroyed most of the world and sent back its residents to a semi-stone age despite still having vast amounts of technology. A wasteland of unending violence, new nations, and twisted monsters. The six had learned a lot, shared their opinions, and believed they had found what they needed for their school assignment before deciding to head out for Sugarcube Corner.

Yet they couldn't leave. They had used fire, charging, bucking, clawing, and even one of the bed posts as a ram. Yet some kind of purple magic was shielding the door from any harm. The students even tried calling for help near the door, hoping one of the other school residents would hear them, but nothing went through.

"Ugh! Did this magic also make the room soundproof?!" Gallus demanded as he banged on the door in frustration. "Seriously, you'd think hearing the sound of a roaring griffin, dragon, and yak at the very least could attract someone!"

"What about Ocellus turning into a bullhorn, and we play it really loud?" Silverstream suggested.

"I don't think that will work either. I think Gallus is right. We're soundproof," Ocellus answered with a sigh.

"Great, so any other bright ideas on how to get out of here? Because I don't want to be stuck in a boy's bedroom for the rest of my life," Smolder asked while folding her arms.

"Yona could try smashing unmoving door again," Yona suggested.

"You've done that three times already," Smolder pointed out.

"Fourth time the charm!"

Sandbar looked around before noticing the window nearby with the curtains closed and smiled. "Hey, guys? We don't need to use the door. We'll just go through the window." He moved towards it and opened the curtains. "See! Let me just...open...the..."

Sandbar's jaw dropped as he stared at the outside world, with the others soon crowding him before gazing in awe.

"What the what?" Silverstream asked in disbelief.

"Uh, dudes? I don't think we're in Ponyville anymore," Sandbar whispered.

"I don't think we're even in Equestria anymore!" Ocellus shouted in a panic. "Or our home planet!"

What the six had expected to see beyond the closed glass window was the outsides of the gardens that the school had for decoration as well as for the gardening club. They didn't expect to find a vast green and blue nebula with various auras mixing together in different gas-like shapes. There were small star-like objects floating around the nebulous with occasional zipping off to who knows where. The six continued to stare at the colorful space-like dimension before slowly closing the curtains and backing away.

"... I'm not the only one who saw that, right?" Smolder asked before the others nodded. "Okay, good."

Clearing her throat, she asked, "WHAT ACTUAL BUCK?!"

"Normally, I'd say watch the language, but in this case, I can't complain," Ocellus said before shaving her head in shock. "We're in space?! Or something that looks like space?! Pocket dimension?! Alternate plane of existence?! How are we breathing?! How did we get here?! How do we go home?!"

"Yona don't like this! I'm scared!" Yona whimpered.

"What if we're stuck here forever?!" Silverstream panicked.

"Everyone, calm down!" Gallus shouted, getting up in the air and holding his hands out to get their attention. "Look, I know this is freaking everyone out! Trust me, I'm ready to piss myself. But we need to keep a calm head, or we're all going to do something stupid that makes the situation worse! So let's calm down and breathe."

The others slowly nodded and soon began doing a breathing exercise they saw Headmare Twilight do a few times, which seemed to work. Once everyone had calmed down, Gallus slowly landed on the ground and sighed. "Alright, let's figure this out. What were we doing before we ended up in...whatever this place is?"

"We finished watching the last of the videos about The Wasteland. We learned that it was all done because Starswirl the Bearded was thirsty," Sandbar listed, which made Smolder chuckle. "Then we talked about what we learned and agreed to get something to eat at Sugarcube Corner."

"Only we couldn't get out even though we tried getting the door to open," Silverstream pointed out.

"Then Yona tried to smash down the door with charge only to get pushed by my magical shield with a weird symbol," Yona recalled before rubbing her head. "Head still hurts too."

"That might also be because you tried to do the same thing multiple times," Gallus pointed out before continuing the events that led them here. "Then we heard a strange sound coming from the orb, and it was playing a different video."

"Something about 'Dawn's Beauty,' dragon tongues, and adventures. Oh, and something about scrolls," Smolder recalled.

"Well, I remember what the visuals were; they were way too green and pretty to be the Wasteland," Ocellus said. "It looked a lot more like Equestria based on what we saw."

"Yeah, and there was a big white tower too!" Sandbar claimed with a big smile. "It looks gorgeous. Reminds me of some of the architecture of Canterlot."

"Plus, the one speaking was different," Silverstream said. "They were not the narrator from the previous videos.

"Hmm," Ocellus rubbed her chin. "Could they be a different set of videos?"

"If so, why would anyone want to send them? How could they send them?" Gallus asked.

"Well, if they did send them, and send us here to...wherever this place is," Ocellus said while pointing to the outside dimension beyond the window. "Then they have to be really powerful to do so. Someone as powerful as Discord."

"Or maybe it is Discord!" Silverstream claimed with a smile, thinking she had figured it out.

"WRONG!"

Everyone helped as a loud voice echoed across the room, followed by a crack of thunder that made them huddle close in fear. The orb started glowing a mix of purple and black before a new vision appeared and revealed a set of glowing yellowish cat-like eyes looking at them with a narrow yet amusing glare.

"HAHA! COMPARING ME TO THAT LITTLE SNAKE OF A GENIE RIP-OFF! WHAT A LAUGH! IF IT WASN'T FOR THE FACT THAT I HAVE USE OF YA LITTLE ONES FOR ENTERTAINMENT, I'D CHOP OFF YA LIMBS AND USE THEM IN A JUGGLING ACT! WELL, MAYBE I WOULDN'T BE THE JUGGLER, BUT I COULD ALWAYS MAKE YA JUGGLE THEM YERSELVES! A LIMBLESS JUGGLER! HA, THAT WOULD BE A SIGHT TO SEE!"

"W-W-Who are you!" Sandbar screamed as he felt a terror shivering down his spine. The power of the voice speaking to them was unlike anything any of them had heard. But it was clear that whoever was speaking was powerful beyond words.

"ME? ME?! MEEEEEEE?! WELL, I'M SO GLAD YOU ASKED! YA SEE, I WAS THE ONE WHO BROUGHT YOU HERE TO THIS NICE LITTLE SLICE OF OBLIVION! OR MAYBE IT WAS THAT AUTHOR WHOSE WRITING THIS LITTLE STORY FOR HIS DARLING LITTLE READERS! AND HEY! TO ALL OF YA'S READING THIS! POST SOME MORE COMMENTS THAT ARE FUNNY! OR I'LL MAKE YOU ALL HAVE TO DRINK SOME OF THAT MOONSHINE THAT SANGUINE HAS IN STOCK! YOU MIGHT THINK THAT'S GOOD STUFF AT FIRST, BUT WHAT UNTIL YOU WAKE UP FEELING THE HANGOVER! UNLESS YOU ALREADY LOST YER HEADS! HAHA!"

"I'm scared," Silverstream whimpered.

"OH, DON'T YOU WORRY YER SWEET TAILFEATHER LITTLE LASS. SHEOGORATH'S THE NAME! MADNESS IS ME GAME! DAEDRIC PRINCE OF MADNESS IS WHAT YOU MUST KNOW! AND I'M HERE TO LET YOU WITNESS THE FINE HOME OF ME OWN DIMENSION AND ITS OWN BRAND OF CHAOS AND VIOLENCE AND DEATH AND INSANITY!"

"Um, why?" Smolder asked.

"WHY? BECAUSE I'M BORED! AND ANYONE CAN TELL YOU THAT A BORED DAEDRIC PRINCE IS A SOMETHING YA DON'T WANT. SO I FIGURED I'D TAKE FROM WATCHING THAT FALLOUT UNIVERSE AND INSTEAD WATCH MY UNIVERSE FOR A SPELL! BESIDES, THAT SERIES WENT TO OBLIVION, THANKS TO TODD HOWARD! NOW THAT'S A FELLA WHO I'D LIKE TO HIT WITH THE WABBAJACK! MAYBE IT WILL TURN HIM INTO A DECENT GAME DEVELOPER?! OR MAYBE INTO A COCKROACH THAT I CAN SQUISH LIKE A BUG?! IT'S FUNNY EITHER WAY!"

"So you want us to watch...videos of your universe...because you are bored?" Gallus asked before looking at the others. "Um, can you give us a minute?"

"SURE! NOT THAT IT WILL DO YOU MUCH GOOD! I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING! ESPECIALLY THAT RAGNAR THE RED SONG BEING PLAYED BY EVERY BARD IN SKYRIM EVERY TEN MINUTES. I PREFER MY VERSION WHERE EVERYONE LOSES THEIR HEADS, AND A BUNCH OF ICE TROLLS COME IN AND START BANGING ON THEM LIKE BONGOS!"

Huddling the group away from the madman, who was whistling a tune, Gallus turned to the others with wide, frightened eyes. "Okay, if anyone has any good suggestions? Now would be a good time."

"I don't think we have much choice," Ocellus pointed out as she looked at the screen where the eyes of the mad god were swirling around. "If he's that powerful to drag us into this Oblivion place, then I doubt we stand much of a chance against him. Plus, I don't think we want to anger him. He seems kinda..."

"Mad? Well, he is calling himself the Dae-something Prince of Madness," Smolder pointed out, rolling her eyes. "Frankly, I'm never going to complain about Discord again after this."

"I'm with Ocellus on this one. I got a bad feeling that we shouldn't anger this guy," Sandbar seconded.

"Normally, Yak would not bow to crazy person, but Yak make exception this once," Yona claimed, raising her hoof.

Nodding, Gallus turned back to the screen, "Alright, we'll do it. Not like we have much of a choice. But how long are we going to be here?"

"OH, NOT LONG. JUST ENOUGH FOR SEASON ONE. DON'T WORRY ABOUT ALL YOUR MORTAL NEEDS, EITHER. I MADE IT SURE YOU CAN BREATHE, AND YER BATHROOM IS WORKING PERFECTLY TOO. THOUGH IT MIGHT TRY TO BITE YER BOTTOM ONCE IN AND AWHILE! AND IF YOU WANT, I CAN EVEN BRING YA SNACKS! LIKE CHEESE!"

As soon as Sheogorath said that, a giant wheel of cheese materialized above everyone and fell on their heads.

"HA! JUST THINK IT, AND I'LL MAKE IT! NOW GET READY FOR YOUR FIRST VIDEO, KIDDIES! YER GONNA SEE HOW EVERYTHING WAS MADE HERE IN THE MAGICAL AND CRAZY WORLD OF NIRN!"

And just like that, the first video began to play...

Daedric Princes of Skyrim, Morrowind, Oblivion Part 1

Chapter 1

Daedric Princes of Skyrim, Morrowind, Oblivion Part 1

"So the Daedra are like what Sheogorath is, right?" Sandbar asked, hoping the Mad God wouldn't hear him and do something insane.

"I wonder if they're all as powerful as Sheogorath?" Ocellus wondered out loud. Or as bad.

The narrator explained that to understand Tamriel, one had to understand all the big players that had a hand in the influence of the everyday mortal. Unlike Equus, the various Gods, Demi-Gods, and other Celestial beings of the cosmos and reality played a role in influencing Nirn. It certainly made the others wonder how different their world would be if their Gods had more of a say or impact in their reality. As was learned previously, the Aedra, meaning "Our Ancestors" in Elven, were divine beings who gave up (or were tricked) their divine power to the creation of Nirn. All life on the planet owed its existence to them, and it wasn't a surprise that they were heavily worshiped.

The screen then showed numerous shadowy figures of various shapes and sizes. All hidden in their silhouettes. These beings did not play a role in the creation of Nirn and were called the "Daedra," meaning "Not Our Ancestors" in Elven.

"Wonder why they didn't participate in it?" Silverstream wondered.

"If Ancestor Gods tricked into giving power instead of giving it up willingly, Non-Ancestor Gods must have realized it was all a lie," Yona theorized.

"And what if it wasn't a trick?" Silverstream asked, turning to her yak friend, who rubbed her chin.

"Maybe not interested? Hard to tell what Gods think," Yona answered.

The various conflicts of Nirn were almost always going on every day, and it wasn't as surprising that the Daedra had a part to play in some of the worst events in history that caused tremendous conflict and destruction. If there was any doubt that the Daedra were not only dangerous but possibly evil, the sight of a red gate of utter hellfire and evil made the thought stick permanently. As statues and images of the dark gods were shown, the narrator revealed just how much suffering the Daedra had caused merely because they saw mortals and Nirn differently than all others.

"It makes it sound like they view Mundus as one giant playground," Gallus said in disgust as he saw a cult worshiping one of the Daedra in a freezing cold mountain fighting one another.

There were two kinds of Daedra. Despite not being as powerful as the other type, the Lesser Daedra were still dangerous and scary. The appearance of one, taking the shape of a giant spider woman, made the others gasp and nearly scream upon seeing her horrifying appearance. Looking at it, they could tell it was something not to mess with as its cackling laughter and hands casing dark magic made it clear she was dangerous. However, that was nothing compared to the appearance of the other types of Daedra: The Daedric Princes.

For a split second, Sandbar thought they found Tirek's twin brother as a giant four armed demonic looking being stood over the ruins of a city. The sky was as dark red as blood, and in one hand, he held an ax bathed in the blood of who knows how many innocents. His appearance was that of a true dark demonic overlord, and one could quickly tell his power was unmatched by so many others. This was one of the Daedric Princes. The overlords of the various realms of the plane of existence known as Oblivion. It was these beings that Tamriel's people worshiped as Gods next to the Aedra, including the Dark Elves, whose culture and history were influenced by them.

"Why would you worship something like that?!" Silverstream asked in horror, pointing to the laughing evil Daedric Prince.

"And here I thought the Church of Adam was weird," Smolder muttered in disbelief.

The scene then changed to show one Daedra rising out of a coffin like that of a classical vampire as his numerous followers bowed and worshiped him. He spread his arms out theatrically and smiled at the worshipers of his little cult. It turned out that, despite calling themselves "Princes," the Daedra had no gender. They merely changed their shape and form to suit their needs and manipulated the mortals below them. To the Daedric Princes, their morality was alien compared to that of morals. They saw things differently, and as such, what mortals saw as good and evil was twisted under a different logic compared to what they saw.

"That...kinda makes sense?" Ocellus whispered, getting everyone's attention. "I mean, our morality and mindset of ourselves vastly differ from that of wild animals or insects. Right? So maybe it's the same thing?"

"Doesn't make it right," Silverstream muttered with a huff as she folded her arms.

The silhouettes of the Daedric Princes were shown again, and it was revealed that seventeen of them existed. Or at least that was the number of them known to Tamriel. All of them used the mortals of Tamriel for their own amusement, seeing them as little bugs to either watch, help, or crush in their efforts to survive. It was a game to them. And the mortals were the pieces on the board.

"And this is why I don't like the concept of Gods," Smolder muttered.

Of course, the same went both ways.

Much like how the Daedra were interested in mortals, there were mortals interested in the Daedra, as evidenced by the cult worshiping one of their statues. Throughout history, there have been many interactions between man and Daedra, including the Princes, with various stories to tell.

"Personally, I would want to stay away from them as much as possible," Sandbar said, with the others all nodding in agreement.

The screen then changed to show a familiar statue they had seen previously. One of a woman holding a star and moon. It was said to have been built by the Dark Elves in their worship of her when they came to Skyrim after leaving their homeland of Morrowind. She was the Queen of Dawn and Dusk. The Mother of the Rose. The Queen of the Night Sky and the most worshiped of all the Daedra to the Dark Elves:

Azura

Seen always as a powerful and beautiful woman, Azura was the Daedric Prince of Night and Dawn, master of the hidden magic of mystery Twilight.

"Wait, Twilight? And our Twilight Sparkle is one of Equestria's most powerful magic users," Ocellus said as she went wide-eyed. "You don't think..."

"Let's hope not," Gallus whispered with a shiver. The idea of a Daedric Prince influencing one of their teachers, much less a Princess of Equestria, was terrifying.

"Ooh! Pretty!" Silverstream gleefully said as Azura's plane of existence, Moonshadow, was shown on the screen.

"So many crystals..." Smolder moaned in hunger, raising her claws as if ready to jump into it.

Moonshadow was said to be a realm of pure, dazzling beauty, with blinding lights, waterfalls, trees, and a city of silver. But this realm of beauty was not the only thing unique about her. Not all the Daedric Princes were terrible, as Azura was considered one of the few "Good" Daedric Princes who acted in concern for her mortal subjects, unlike the others. A strange star-like object with a beautiful light green gem in the middle appeared on screen and was said to be known as "Azura's Star." It is a powerful soul gem capable of unending storage of souls, making it a highly sought-after object for mages and assassins.

"Wait, they can trap souls in gems?!" Ocellus screamed in horror. "That's... that's horrible! What do they use it for? Powering magic and spells? How do you even do that?! Do they feel pain?! If the gem is used up or destroyed, is the soul also gone forever?! How many souls can a normal gem hold?! Why even create a means to do this in the first place?!"

"I don't think I'm going to look at a diamond the same ever again," Smolder moaned as she held a hand to her stomach.

"That's like something the guys at Big Mountain would come up with," Sandbar pointed out and quickly shivered at the idea of those freaky scientists ever meeting up with a Daedric Prince. It would be the worst thing in the universe.

"At least there is some good Daedra out there," Silverstream pointed out nervously to ease the uneasy feelings.

"If having a mystical object that can suck souls out of you is considered good, then I hate to see what is considered bad," Ocellus pointed out with a huff.

The next Daedra to be shown as one of a statue they had seen numerous times already but now had a clearer picture. It showed what appeared to be a woman, with the body of a snake, holding a large sword while looking particularly bloodthirsty. The Prince of Plots was known for being one of the most rebellious and violet-driven Daedra.

Boethiah

Portrayed multiple times as both a man and woman, Boethiah was known to be involved in secrets, deception, assassination, and overthrowing authority. Her realm in Oblivion (Only known as The Realm of Boethia) was just as violent as its ruler. A place of storms, volcanoes, and seas of lava. Being a Daedric Prince who delights in murder and destruction, even among her own followers, as indicated when one of her worshipers was backstabbed and stabbed repeatedly by another. It was not surprising that she was considered one of the more “evil” Daedra. Interestingly enough, while most of the races of Tamriel saw her as evil, the Dark Elves saw her in a different light that would be explored later on.

“Why would anyone see a being that delights in killing people in the shadows as not evil?” Silverstream asked in disbelief.

“I think we’re going to see a lot of things that don’t make sense to us over time,” Ocellus said, shaking her head as she continued to write her notes.

“Maybe it’s a cultural thing? I mean, Dragon Culture allows things like stealing and bullying others to get your way. Deception is also encouraged to overthrow those who are stronger than you,” Smolder pointed out with a shrug. “Something like that in Equestria is completely foreign as a concept.”

“Also, that’s the laziest name for a realm I’ve ever heard,” Gallus said with a snort.

Three of Daedric Artifacts stood out among those associated with Boethiah, as shown by one of her champions wielding all three on the screen: The Ebony Mail, Fearstruck, and Goldbrand. Each powerful in their own right, they had been used in history during times of significant change, which Boethiah always desires.

The next Daedric prince showed the statue of a handsome young male wrapped in a toga while holding a mask of sorts with horns both on his head and the mask. Beside him was a giant dog statue that seemed to be his companion. This was the Daedric Prince of Power and Wishes with the ability to grant you anything but for a price.

Clavicus Vile

“Okay, I don’t know if Daedric Princes have mothers, but just giving someone that name means you’re signing them up to be a supervillain,” Sandbar giggled upon hearing his name.

Clavicus Vile and his companion, the shapeshifting Barbarus, typically occupied a realm filled with dangerous yellow-skinned Daedra that lived in an open, untamed field. But Clavicus Vile rarely stayed in his domain, for when he is bored (and it happens pretty often), he goes to the realm of Mucus to find mortals seeking something. That something is what Clavicus Vile can give if he is summoned or seen, as he grants them whatever wish they desire.

“Oh! So he’s like a genie!” Silverstream said with glee. “I’ve always wanted to meet a genie!”

Of course, Clavicus Vile often amused himself by making the wishes ironic or, if he so desired, takes the wishes back with but a mere thought. Why? His own amusement.

“...Or not a genie. Not a genie at all.”

The Mask of Clavicus Vile, as shown on the screen, was his most famous Daedric Artifact. Wearing it would make a person more popular and charismatic, to the point of near worship. The catch? Like his wishes, Clavicus Vile will summon it back to Oblivion whenever he wishes, Usually at the wrong time for the wielder.

“He really does the whole take-back thing hard, huh?” Gallus snorted.

Things on the screen went black for a bit, but then a giant green eye appeared on the visor, making the group gasp. Slowly, black gloops and shadows were bubbling with more green eyes and tentacles warping out of them. The others slowly backed away, fearing that it would break through the screen and reach out, but sighed in relief upon seeing it was not attacking them. It was one of the most disturbing things they had seen and the most unworldly Daedric Prince. Out of all the Daedric Princes, nobody was more Eldritch looking than the Prince of Knowledge and Fate, who refused to take the appearance of a humanoid but a massive collection of eyes, tentacles, and claws.

Hermaeus Mora

The screen then showed Hermaeus Mora’s realm, an endless library in an otherworldly maze of mysteries and secrets. Yet it held a disturbing sickly green color while tentacles and black books flowed around, warping from place to place. However, the number of books was beyond counting and only a tiny fraction of the knowledge that Hermaeus Mora had collected since time began.

“You think Princess Twilight would go into this kind of library?” Sandbar asked.

“Heardmare Twilight smart enough to know this is not safe knowledge,” Yona answered with a shiver. “Place gives yak goosebumps.”

Yona’s worries were proven true as most of the writing in the realm of Apocrypha was forbidden knowledge that could make those who stay too long in it go insane. The black books were written in arcane languages, and the halls were haunted by ghosts seeking an endless thirst for knowledge that they were doomed to forever seek.

“Yeah, I like reading and all, but I like my sanity intact,” Ocellus replied with a gulp. She made a mental note to never meet this Hermeaus Mora for the sake of avoiding any temptation. Madness by a Mad God or madness by a God of Forbidden Knowledge? I honestly don’t know what would be worse.

Ocellus’s fear of temptation was further proven when one of these Black Books did open and showed a strange design that was taking all her willpower to not write down. These Black Books, written by Hermeaus Mora himself, would teleport those who read it into Apocrypha where, if one could keep their sanity, they were rewarded with powerful knowledge.

But all six students thought the same thing: “Knowledge at what cost?”

The next Daedric Prince to be shown was not as disturbing as the last, but still very inhuman. Despite having the body of a human and dressed in the skin of wild animals he had taken down himself, the next Daedric Prince had the face of a deer’s skull and held a weapon that appeared to be the combination of a spear and an ax. Unsurprisingly, he was called the Huntsman and father of all Man-Beasts.

Hircine

"Three guesses what his field of experience is," Gallus snorted.

Unsurprisingly, he was the Daedric Prince of hunting and was more than just a hunter. He also created diseases that turned men into beasts, including werewolves.

"Woah! Werewolves are real here?!" Sandbar asked in shock as one appeared on the screen, sniffing the air in search of prey. "That's cool!"

"You like werewolves?" Ocellus asked in surprise.

"My favorite horror creatures!" Sandbar replied with a grin.

"Huh, didn't expect that," Gallus replied with a shrug. "Always pictured you as a kelpie kinda guy."

"...Because of the cutie mark?"

"Because of the cutie mark," everyone else said in agreement.

Worshiped and seen by the werewolves as their father, they are his favorite creation as they hunt at night, but by day they are hunted due to people's fear of them. Hircine believes in all aspects of the hunt. Not just predator hunting prey, but prey turning things around, so the predator is also pursued. Both please him.

Standing near a statue of two wolves, Hircine held his spear in practice while standing in the middle of his realm, The Hunting Grounds. If one enters the domain and hears Hircine's horn in the distance, that is the signal that the Great Hunt has begun and you must run. Hircine and his hunting pack of werewolves have arrived to hunt until the day is done.

Known for a few Daedric Artifacts that he gives as rewards to great hunters; the most well-known is the Savior's Hide. A leather and furry armor that was just as good as any steel plating.

The next to appear was-

"OH GREAT! THIS IDIOT! UGHHH! I REALLY WANT TO SKIP HIM, BUT YOU'LL HAVE TO KNOW HIM TO GET TO KNOW ME! BAH! WISH I COULD FILL ME EARS WITH CORN TO IGNORE THIS! OR BETTER YET! HAVE HIM SPEAK IN CHINESE!"

"What's Chinese?" Yona asked Ocellus, who shrugged.

Anyway...

The following person to appear was a large steel armored figure who reminded the six of a towering figure. Surrounded by marble walls and wielding a sharp white sword, he was imposing, cold, and known for being the Daedric Prince of Order and among the most powerful of Daedric Princes.

Jyggalag

"If he's the Daedric Prince of Order, I can see how Sheogorath would hate him," Gallus pointed out.

Jyggalag was so feared and powerful because of his fantastic ability to use logic to figure out all past, present, and future events. He knew everything that happened would happen and has happened just by his reasoning alone. Because of this, he sees things like free will and individuality as nothing but illusions and all of life as a giant equation that he can solve into controlling into a means of perfect order.

"Wait, so this guy just figured out everything of...everything?" Sandbar asked in disbelief. "I don't buy it."

"Yeah, and even if he did, what would he do with it? Sounds all so boring," Smolder said when a giant bowl of shiny gems appeared, much to her delight. "Oooh! Nice!"

"Someone's a God's new favorite," Gallus grumbled, which made the dragon stick her tongue out before eating her new treats.

Because of his power and ability, the other Daedric Princes were afraid of him. Despite their grudges and outright hatred against each other, they put that all aside to unite and defeat him. All sixteen of them had barely managed to do it, but to this day, it remains the only time the most potent Daedric Princes of all came to a single cause.

"Wow, he really must have been dangerous for all of them to work together to defeat," Ocellus whispered in awe.

Of course, since Jyggalag couldn't be destroyed, they decided to give him a cruel sentence for someone as orderly and logic-minded as him. Using their power, they twisted him into a being of pure madness, illogical behavior, and outright insanity. A complete coin flip of his personality that was the most bitter of ironies for him.

All six students' eyes widened as Silverstream gulped. "Wait... don't tell me..."

They turned Jyggalag into Sheogorath.

Gallus couldn't help but snort and then laugh incessantly as he pointed at the screen. "THAT'S WHAT THEY DID TO HIM?! THEY MADE HIM INTO A CLOWN GOD OF INSANITY?! AHAHAHAHAA" Suddenly, there was a flash of bright light as a lighting bolt from outside hit Gallus "AAAAAAAAAAAAHHH"

The others screamed and shouted his name, fearing the worst as they could only imagine his suffering. When the light faded, everyone just blinked upon seeing a blue rooster looking around in confusion, clucking and poking the ground occasionally. Yona blinked a few times before pointing to the blue rooster. "Mad God replaced friend Gallus with chicken?"

"Rooster. And I think that is Gallus," Ocellus corrected as she picked him up and winced when he started pecking her forehead. "Well, he kinda brought it upon himself to mock our current captor."

Sandbar looked up and nervously asked, "Um, Mr. Sheogorath? How long is Gallus going to be like this?"

"EH, UNTIL I GET BORED OF HIM LIKE THAT! MAYBE I'LL TURN HIM BACK! OR MAKE HIM A WHALE?! OR A COCKROACH TO STOMP ON! MAYBE I'LL MAKE HIM CHEESE! BUT I ALSO WOULDN'T MIND MAKING HIM A KHAJIIT! OR MAYBE A KHAJIIT OUT OF CHEESE! JUST WATCH THE FILM ABOUT ME GLORIOUS SELF, AND MAYBE I'LL TURN HIM BACK AFTER THE VIDEO IS DONE! OR MAYBE IN PART 2 OF THIS CHAPTER!"

Silverstream shrugged and happily took Gallus over to her side, where she let him rest on her lap, much to his delight, as he nested himself easily. "I'll take care of him! He looks so cute like this anyway!"

Turning back to the screen, the five students and one rooster finally saw what their prison warden looked like. A strange old man with yellow cat eyes in an outfit that was purple and yellow as he wielded a cane while sitting happily on his throne. This Daedric Prince of Madness was the enigma of the entire universe, as nobody knew what he would do, why he did what he did, or who he would do it to.

Sheogorath

His realm, the Shivering Isles, was just as mad as him. A land of light and dark, giant insects, colorful flowers, and plenty of fellow mad people unfortunate enough to find themselves in the Mad God's plane of Oblivion. However, to their surprise, the screen showed a different Sheogorath than before. This one had long hair and another face; his uniform was half purple and half red. He seemed still mad, but his appearance was less devilish. It was said that someone known as "The Champion" discovered what happened at the Shivering Isles.

For every end of an era, Sheogorath would return to Jyggalag to restore order again to the Isles. However, when it was done, Jyggalag would turn back into Sheogorath, bringing madness once again. It was an endless cycle of going back and forth until The Champion ended the process by defeating Jyggalag in single combat and finally made the two separate Princes'.

"Dude, he took on a Daedric Prince and beat him?! Aren't these guys godlike?!" Sandbar shouted in shock.

"Damn, he must be some Champion," Smolder whispered in awe.

"WHY, THANK YOU!"

"Huh?" Smolder asked, confused by what that meant.

While Jyggalag seemed to have yet to have any Daedric Artifacts worth mentioning, the most well-known of Sheogorath's was the Wabbajack. It was a powerful staff that could turn any living into another living thing, but it was always done at random.

"The whatajack?" Ocellus asked.

"The Wabbajack!" Silverstream cried out before giggling. "Such a silly name."

"ALRIGHT! WE'RE GONNA END PART 1 HERE BECAUSE THIS VIDEO IS LONG ENOUGH AS IT IS, AND RATED PONYSTAR WANTS TO MAKE SURE THESE THINGS AREN'T TOO LONG! SO MAKE SURE YOU READERS OUT THERE LEAVE A NICE REVIEW OR FOLLOW SOMETHING, OR I'll BE FORCED YOU TO WATCH BAD ANIME FOR WEEKS ON END! MAYBE THAT BOKU NO PICO ONE?! OR WORSE! INUYASHA! HAHAHA!

"Part 1?" Ocellus asked.

"Whose Rated Ponystar?" Sandbar questioned.

"What's Anime?" Yona wondered.

"What's a Boku no Pico or Inuyasha?" Silverstream inquired.

"Who the hay is he talking to?!" Smolder demanded while looking around with worry.

"Buck buck?" Gallus cock-a-doodle-doo'd as he tilted his head.

Author's Note

Yeah the video is a very long one so I am splitting it into two. Next time we'll get the rest of the Princes.