It all seemed to rise up in a single moment, given the little amount of time for everything to plummet. Lands, waters and communities became fuelled with a distinctive lust for bloodshed against an opposition far closer than before. No longer did the Aldmeri Dominion engage a seemingly unmatched war against the Empire, oh no...This time, it was far closer than anyone had imagined. Tamriel's Province of Skyrim had succumb to a new age of disaster. The soil of its surface would be stained in the Bloods of families, cities and entire organisations. The Nords were finally taking what they wanted back, Skyrim. They denied the ways of Imperial life, disgusted and the denial of belief towards Talos. Soon enough, friends turned on friends, race on race, comrade on comrade. Citizens and Soldiers would take arms on their side, having little choice on whether they were involved or not. But it wasn't just an increase of those who'd begin fighting on the many fronts of Skyrim, it was also taking its toll to those not siding with their beliefs. Many who refused to follow what others did began to feel oppression, and great deals of tension between individuals on who rightfully owns Skyrim became increasingly stressed. These were dark times, even those choosing to stay clear of these actions were suffering at the hands of Oppression. These were the most sorrowful times of Skyrim, as of now...For the Generation to currently inhabit the Province were to be used in the Clutches of the Civil War.
Settled down in the Southern Areas of Skyrim, Falkreath stood. It had been relatively quiet here, and recently an increase of travellers had emerged due to its known distance from the Conflict at hand. Many considered it a Safe-Haven from everything, only having to deal with small-time criminals and Bandits that lurked in the shadows. At least, that's how it was. As predicted, the war had found a way to keep Falkreath a priority, sending an Imperial Garrison under the Command of Legate Skulnar to act as an Occupation force. With Skyrim split into two, a disturbance between the Hold's Nords and the New-Found Imperial Settlers made it tense. Very few positive icons were brought with the Empire's arrival here, not counting the extension of Defences and Wall-Buildling. And now, that they had settled for at least two weeks, everything seemed to be at its most Tense. Falkreath was now only a Hold behind the Frontlines, only two Forts and three camps being the only thing left to stand between the Stormcloaks and the Imperials stationed here. It brought great trouble among everyone, and some had even fled the Hold, few the Province, in search of a better life. And among those who chose to stay, was Arnkel Aridmetis. The Redguard Trader wasn't one of those comfortable with the new-life that he had been forced into. Falkreath had been his home-away-from-home for years now, taking itself to be a part of his life. Suddenly, the community seemed less friendly upon the Arrival of the Imperials, who hadn't made it easy for him either. Now, he stood at his stall at the Peak of the Sun's travels, arms folded and laid back. The Stall he was used to gather information, jobs, roles and items from. He sighed deeply, dressed in his usual trading gear. This was not a good day. This was not a good Era.
