The Elder Scrolls: Siege of Skyrim

Chapter 1

Enryon sat at an elongated oak table, looking over documents laid out before him. Like most Altmer, he had golden skin with line green eyes and a slim face. His hair was black and he wore a small goatee on his chin. He wore the black robes of a Thalmor Agent. As Enryon looked at the papers, he started to grit his teeth.

Years. No, Decades of planning went to waste. The civil war in Skyrim was over, with Ulfirc Stormcloak's head on a pike and a united empire in Skyrim. The chaos caused by the dragons was quelled by a so-called "Dragonborn" and there wasn't any account on who the fool was. The Thalmor Embassy was broken into and many agents were slain and documents on the Blades stolen. These setbacks threw the Aldmeri Dominion's plans awry.

Now it was time for something desperate.

There was a knock at the chamber door, "Enter." Enryon said in a drawing, almost bored voice. But many people knew not to mistake his tone.

Three figures entered the room. The two on the left and right of the center figure were clearly Altmer, clad in golden elven armor. The person in the center was much shorter, and bound in chains. The figure was a Wood Elf– a Bosmer. His face was sallow and his eyes were a rust red, sunken deep within his skull. His hair was bone white and slicked back. The repulsive creature seemed to have a hungry expression on him. His clothes were ragged and the chains on his wrists cutting into his skin, "Sir," The guard on the left of the prisoner spoke up, "Here he is."

Enryon smiled as if he were greeting an old friend, "Ah yes! Baleron! Good, you're here," The two guards led the wood elf Baleron over to the other side of the table. They sat him down on one of the chairs and shackled his already bound wrists to the arms of the chair. Enryon waved his hand, "You may go, I want to speak to him alone."

One of the guards raised an eyebrow, "Sir, are you sure that's wise?"

"Don't question me, and go," Enryon scowled. The two guards saluted and exited the room. After they left Enryon's face returned to normal and he turned to Baleron, "I do apologize about that. How are you, my friend?"

"What do you want?" Baleron replied, his voice lower than his size would predict.

"To offer you a job," Enryon lifted one of the dossiers from the table in front of him, "You have a fascinating file: You were alive during the Oblivion Crisis, a prolific serial killer and worshiper of the Daedra. I've read some of your kills and may I say you are a master with the blade."

"Thank you." Baleron smiled, revealing pointed and fanged teeth.

"That's not all; I also read you traveled through the planes of Oblivion, collecting power and knowledge that allowed you to live much more than your looks suggest. You also held Daedric artifacts and terrorized Cyrodill until, well," Enryon pointed to the bounds on Baleron's wrist, "What I want to know is how you allowed yourself to get captured, and why you never escaped?"

Suddenly, the chains on Baleron's wrist started to glow red hot. They snapped with a twang, sending molten chain links shooting around the room. Enryon deflected the ones that came closest to him with a simple ward charm. Baleron rubbed the raw skin on his wrists, then shrugged, "I was bored I guess. And tired. I wanted to rest and, well, your Dominion provided it. The question is, now, what do you want with me? And what's stopping me from climbing over this table and ripping your neck out with my teeth?"

"Because you know it would be more beneficial if I gave you your bounty instead of you trying to take it," As Enryon spoke, a set of double doors opened and a elven woman with flowing blonde hair walked in with a large platter. At Enryon's end she sat a platter filled with greens, fruits, and herbs. When she reached Baleron's end, she hesitated, then placed the platter of meat down in front of him. The room was silent until the servant girl left, "Dig in! I'm sure it is your favorite."