Outside Senchal, Elsweyr
29th of Midyear, 4E 205
An-Xileel peacekeepers
The Argonians camp out in the unfamiliar and uncomfortably open countryside of Elsweyr, even receiving a Khajit message from an unknown and uncared for lap-cat. The leader of the group politely thanks the Khajit, and promises to present the message to his superiors, despite how little care he had for the message. To this particular Argonian, the Khajiit were still untrustworthy beings who began a campaign of hatred over an unproven piece of slander.
Staying the night proved uneventful and in the end, the Argonians set sail on the 29th of Midyear, as promised. Silently, the sergeant was just sad he hadn’t seen any action. There was never any cause for excitement in Black Marsh.
Thorn, Black Marsh
2nd of Sun’s Height
Sha’eek
Why did she choose to holiday in Thorn?
Choosing to spend a week in Thorn shouldn’t have been a strange decision: admiring its architecture, meeting up with old spawn-mates, taking a small amount of time away from her duties as Matron of the Shadowscales. It had been the first break she had truly taken since Rules-With-Claw had ascended to the throne after all.
And after this one, she swore it would be her last for a long time.
The first word she heard of the invasion, the entire Argonian dock was besieged and overrun. She had spoken with Lord Barkaan about the relative ease in which a seaborne attack could do serious damage to Thorn, and his response had been that ‘spies constantly informed and updated the Argonians about Dark elf fleet movements.’
She saw the first of the enemy vanguard break into the city as she began to rally a defence. The creature was some strange ape-beast. Nothing that lived on Tamriel, that was certain. She shot a crossbow bolt between the beast’s eyes, ending its life in one shot as she realised just how dire the situation was. This threat wasn’t from Tamriel at all; there were very few threats outside of Tamriel. The Daedra, were the obvious ones: yet this was no Daedra. Someone else could give the creature a name or a species. She’d just send them to Sithis, no matter the birth realm.
Soon after the vanguard and the ralled defence clashed, and as she began to count casualties, she knew that this would be no won defence. This wasn’t going to become the song about the heroic defence of Thorn. This was going to become the song of the sacking of Thorn.
Sha’eek had never been called a merciful woman, but she pulled across the bravest looking Argonian and placed a hand on his shoulder, relinquishing the command to him: electing not to mention the inevitability of the defeat. Instead she simply bowed her head and wished him luck.
Sprinting away from the main defence, she moved towards the most important building in the city other than the castle: the Hist hall.
She made it to the hall of the Hist in a quick enough time, and soon she was face to face with Thorn’s main Hist-speaker. By now, he had likely heard the news, and he’d begun to make the preparations with the Hist itself. She knew what the procedure was: and it would scar her Argonian pride to be a part of what was to come.
-A couple hours later-The process of communicating with the Hist had been a slow one, and the message was being sent through each Hist tree amongst each other, even now. That hadn’t been the process was the slow part. What came next was what had been a labour: for both the Hist-speaker and for Sha’eek. The Hist tree had been slow to react to the thoughts and words of the Hist-speaker, just as all Hist were. Theories bandied around as to the reason: some blamed the tree-like nature of the sentient beings, or how time had affected the creatures so little over the ages that it took longer to answer questions. In this instance though, it was prompt enough.
Sha’eek climbed the Hist tree as high as possible, going to the top most part of the sacred tree and drawing a dagger. She sawed through the branch and the motion felt like cutting off an arm. To an Argonian, it was torture: no matter how necessary.
With the large branch cut off the tree, she climbed down to the ground and nodded to the Hist-speaker. “Burn it down.”
She exited the building out of the back door as the Hist-speaker ignited the tree. He sat directly below the tree itself, content to die with his charge so that neither might end up in the invader’s hands. The Argonians had learned much after the incident in the Third age. They would not hand over a Hist tree again, to be abused and drawn from like some tapped beer barrel. The branch Sha’eek carried would be used to replant the tree.
…after they sowed Thorn’s soil with the blood of the invaders.
-One hour later-Sha’eek had been patrolling through the city’s edge, starting to shepherd soldiers away from the castle where she could and instead lead them into the forest. They would form the guerrilla force that kept the invaders out of their land. Sha’eek had already made the choice to lead this defending force: she had asked the Hist to tell Helstrom that already. Any she could save would be worth at least ten invaders in the swamp.
After saving a paticular Argonian, Sha’eek heard tell of a small prisoner camp forming. Dozens of Argonians, herded and captured by the invaders, probably to be made slaves of. It made the killer’s blood boil at the thought. No Argonian should be enslaved, ever. They had endured enough indignities thus far.
Arriving in the shadows of the camp, she counted guards in her head. A good four guards were in control of at least 30 restrained Argonian soldiers. One of the beasts, a Monkey of some sort, was examining the Argonians’ cache of relinquished weapons while a strange Snake folk circled the area, as if uncomfortable with the guard duty. Two more monkeys were spread around the area; Sha’eek could easily pick two of them off before the others even noticed. It was such a simple assassination for such a skilled killer.
Instead, she surged out of the shadows and drove a knife through the throat of the lizard beast: glaring into its eyes and watching the life drain out of them in a wordless gurgle of blood. The kill was angry, personal even: full of the rage of an entire race and the revenge that would burn inside the Argonians.
The Three monkeys saw the brutal kill and scrambled for weapons. One of them drew a sword while the other produced small objects and lobbed them at her. She guided the lizard’s corpse into the projectiles before a dagger flew through the air and met the eye socket of the projectile lobbing ape. Two seconds later, a crossbow bolt was buried into the chest of the third kill, a heart shot that ended the creature’s life far too quickly.
That left the Ape that had been holding Argonian weapons. It advanced with a drawn sword, a two handed Katana: Intent on ending the life of the Argonian assassin. She would normally have fled the open confrontation, feared it even. She was a fine warrior, to be sure, but she was an assassin by trade. This open combat should have been her antithesis!
Yet Argonian pride fuelled these actions. The desire to show these invaders the power of an Argonian warrior, and of the war to come now that surprise was their ally no longer, was stronger than any caution. She dropped her crossbow and surged towards the ape, unarmed. It caused the beast to flinch long enough that Sha’eek could draw two long daggers from hidden scabbards. The ape began to swing the Dai-katana and sliced through…
…air. Sha’eek was already moved from that position, behind the ape and out of his attack range. She had her pick of targets: the heart, the head, the gut, each a kill of varying speed and pain.
She buried her dagger into the Ape’s spinal cord, severing the nerve cluster in the top of his spine and in the centre of his back. The fighter slumped to the floor, paralysed. Leaving the blades buried in the ape, she kicked the ape onto his side, pulling the monster’s face towards hers, smelling the fear of the crippled warrior. “Remember these words, invader. Mark them well in your head, because they are now the most important thing you will do: Songs will be sold about this day. You have sacked Thorn, you have killed Argonians and you have made enemies of them. My people will sing songs about this day for decades, and of the indignation caused by you invaders…”
“…Your people will sing the song about this day for the rest of your living memory. This will become the song about your greatest mistake. I will make your children and your women weep at the memory of the day your people invaded Argonia. They will weep at the thought of the Argonian enemy made this day. The enemy that will push you back, the enemy that will extract every revenge against the invaders of our homeland…”
“This is the day your people made their gravest mistake. This is the day you made enemies of the Argonians. We will find you all, and we will earn revenge for each and every indignation. You will learn to fear the names of our champions, and your people will learn to remember the invasion of Black Marsh as your greatest failure.”
She dropped the crippled creature onto the cold ground, leaving her daggers in their new found scabbards. Pulling the key from the crippled beast’s belt, she opened the shackles of the Argonians and led them towards the swamps, after reuniting each with their weapons.
Reuniting herself with her crossbow and the dagger in the eye if the other Ape, she followed the Argonians into the swamp, disappearing in order to lead the Thorn guerrilla force.
Helstrom, Black Marsh
2nd of Sun’s Height
Rules-With-Claw
Like every Argonian leader, Rules-With-Claw was interrupted from whatever they were doing in order to receive the panicked message of each city’s Hist-speaker. The message of the Hist speaker was of a conquered Thorn, and of an invasion from a force not of Tamriel. The initial thought was, once again, Daedra, yet the Hist knew better. They spoke of an older enemy, and recalled memories of the Ebonheart Pact.
“…” Seeing the hulking form of the lord of Black Marsh completely speechless could leave even the bravest of men to flinch. Rules-With-Claw’s entire body seemed to shudder with rage as he sat upon the throne of Helstrom, taken by the stories of the Akavari Slavemasters of old.
“Every guard is to leave the Throne room: Now.”
As soon as the doors were closed, a bellow that shook the entire castle echoed from the halls of Helstrom. Rage and anger and indignation united under the roar of a ruler. Fury and spite of an entire people flowed through on being. The doors of the throne room splintered under some unknown blow before the rage finally died down. Two minutes later, the doors were opened and the Argonian leader moved through the corridors of the castle, Axe at his side and armour ready.
“I will be back in two days. Inform Stalks-The-Stars to bolster the defences of Stormhold, Archon and Lilmoth.” With that, the lord of Black Marsh left Helstrom once again, alone this time: and full of rage.
All of Tamriel
3rd of Sun’s Height
Every Argonian
Across Tamriel, upheaval begins.
From the slaves of Morrowind to the dockworkers of Leyawiin, every Argonian heard the call of the Hist. The pull of the sentient symbiotic Hist tree was undeniable to an Argonian, and as such, the mass exodus of the Argonian people began on the 3rd of Sun’s Height. To a trained scholar, the exodus would likely bring back memories of the mass exodus at the end of the Third age. All that is known is that every Argonian marched, every Argonian answered the call: no matter their rank, wealth or status.
The troops outside Senchal return to Lilmoth
The Invasion of Thorn is complete
The Hist has informed each city of the Akavari invasion
Rules-With-Claw has left his seat of power temporarily and is now entering the deeper parts of the Marsh alone.
The Hist have begun to recall Argonians to Black Marsh from across Tamriel. There are no exceptions
