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The Slave Rebellion - Man's Triumph

Author: 
Chancellor Abnur Tharn

The ruination that came to the Ayleids was inevitable. It was not, as less astute scholars postulate, due to the will of the Aedra or some absurd mystical agent, but was a result of their degenerate Daedra worship and gross underestimation of their slaves. The human leaders who challenged the Ayleids, Saint Alessia in particular, recognized the cultural rot weakening their captors and took advantage of it to orchestrate one of the greatest triumphs of Men.

The debauched Elves were apparently quite creative when it came to devising new horrors to inflict on their slaves. What a shock that practices such as “flesh-sculpture” would drive the tormented men and women of Cyrodiil to rebellion. In their smug complacency, the Elves could not conceive of the possibility of an uprising—which was well for the slaves, who would have been summarily crushed by the Ayleids at the height of their power.

As evidenced by the ruins found throughout Tamriel, the Ayleids were an incredible force. The source of their prodigious might, however, was also the catalyst of their decline. Deals with Daedric Princes granted them the power they sought. They thought themselves in control—typical Elven arrogance—as poison crept into their society. The various Daedric cults began bickering and backstabbing, as is their wont, forming the cracks the rebellion would exploit.

Another critical factor in the dissolution of Ayleid rule was the indomitable will of the oppressed. We have all read accounts of heroic deeds executed by the likes of Alessia, Morihaus, and Pelinal Whitestrake. While it’s obvious to anyone with a modicum of intellect that these tales are a bit hyperbolic, it is quite clear that exceptional individuals made the establishment of the First Empire possible.

Alessia’s Slave Army was populated with many examples of the true potential of Man. It is a pity that more texts have not survived, for the few we retain give us little insight, and dishonest scholars often distort them for slanderous political purposes. My own ancestor, “Tharanus Ye Redde-Hand,” has been painted as either a slave-overseer or even implied to be Tharhan, the Mutilant of the Gradual Massacre, based on ridiculous interpretations of obscure and questionable footnotes. The jealousy of lesser men, while I do so savor it, can be such an annoyance at times.

In reality, based on the rare texts I have had the privilege of consulting in the vaults of White-Gold itself, including the recently-discovered Scroll of Precursor Saints, Tharanus was a critical supporter of Alessia’s cause, disrupting supply routes through forged logistical orders and even leading his own battalion into some of the war’s bloodiest conflicts. Sadly, the slanderous have sunk so low as to make preposterous accusations that I forged the scroll myself. Despicable.

Given the weakness of the Ayleids and the rather inspiring members of Alessia’s retinue, the outcome of the war was determined before the first slaver was beheaded. The Slave Rebellion both teaches a cautionary lesson about the idiocy of trifling with the Daedra and demonstrates the power of men, who have rightfully ruled the heart of Tamriel since. As they always shall.

Reman II: The Limits of Ambition

Author: 
High King Emeric

Having found himself in command of the Empire after the deposition of the incompetent Kastav, Reman II's first notable endeavor was to negotiate a swift end to the Winterhold Rebellion of 2804. Reader, grant this thought due consideration—a new and largely untested leader was able to make peace with angered Nords without further unnecessary bloodshed. This was no mean achievement, and truly it demonstrated the quality of the man who would bring a golden age to the Second Empire.

How could a leader of such quality, one who not only calmed the rebellious Nords, but who subdued and united nearly all of Tamriel to usher in one of the most peaceful, productive intervals in recorded history, let the Empire come to ruin? I will divulge my ruminations on the matter, but not before recognizing the accomplishments of this remarkable man and the lessons to be learned from them.

Reman II was a master tactician, and studying records of the battles he fought shows not only his own acumen, but his respect for his troops—and those of the enemy. When he conquered new territory for the Empire, he established rule with a careful hand, avoiding too much disruption to local customs, traditions, and particularly to established trade. The Imperial culture spread, of course, but not through forced assimilation. Rather, the people came to accept and support the Empire by reaping the benefits of free trade, stability, and the development of better infrastructure. He gathered advisers from each province, and focused on his people more than many Emperors ever had.

For long years, peace prevailed across Tamriel. Necromancy and Daedra worship were abolished. Trade flourished, and, through the careful ministrations of Reman II and his councilors, the Second Empire thrived. And yet, the great emperor desired more. He turned his eyes to the provinces of Black Marsh and Morrowind, the unconquered territory weighing heavy on him. In the 2830s, he called forth the legions in an imprudent attempt to conquer Black Marsh. The losses to the swamp itself—its diseases and deadly beasts—nearly matched the number lost in combat with the Argonians, but the Empire managed to establish footholds in the northern and eastern marches by 2837. Reman declared Black Marsh to be officially annexed.

In perhaps his most critical folly, Reman II was not satisfied. He turned next to Morrowind and initiated the Four-Score War, a long, bloody conflict devastating to both sides. The battles were ugly, and the tenuous relations with Morrowind, which had shown some promise for diplomacy, were shattered. He perished fighting the Dunmer in 2843, and his heirs continued on as the Empire began to weaken, bled dry by the cost and wracked with dissent.

And that is, perhaps, the greatest lesson that Reman II can teach to any leader: to keep ambition in check. His success catapulted him to greater and greater visions for the Empire, but in his desire to unify all of Tamriel, he compromised the beliefs and practices that made the Second Empire's golden age great, engaging in a hopeless war unwanted by his people and unneeded to provide them with security, free trade, and a prosperous Empire.

The Martyrdom of Saint Pelin

Author: 
Priestess Adie Rodeau

Welcome, young ones! As the subject of my annual children's sermon, I have chosen "The Martyrdom of Saint Pelin." Now I know you have probably heard this story already, but in this time of trouble I think it is good to revisit the tales of our ancestors so we may draw strength and lessons from them.

Now Saint Pelin lived back in the early part of the First Era, when the world was stranger than today. At that time Tamriel was largely untamed and our ancestors had to be strong and brave, for the woods and hills were home to things like bull-men, and centaurs, and fire serpents.

Saint Pelin wasn't a saint at first, of course: he was a humble man, a beadle at the Chapel of Stendarr at the Bangkorai Garrison, where he tended to the spiritual needs of the soldiers guarding the walls. He had other tasks as well, such as bringing the sentries water when the sun was high. One day as he carried around his bucket dipper he noticed there were more guards than usual. He stopped at the main gate and asked his friend, Sergeant Clancie, why that was. "It is because the Gray Host is coming," said Clancie, "which is a terrible army of vampires from Verkarth, and I'm more than a little worried about it."

"Oh, my!" said Pelin. "Is there anything I can do to help you and the other soldiers?"

"Pray for us, Pelin," said Clancie. "For a great trial is upon us."

Sergeant Clancie's words made Pelin anxious, so when he was done with his chores he climbed a tall tower and looked south. And there he saw the Gray Host coming out of the desert, a whole army of bat-men, wolves, and even worse things!

So Pelin went back to the chapel to pray, and as he heard the sounds of battle, he prayed to Stendarr, to Akatosh, to Julianos, to Kynareth, and to all their saints for help.

But then folk began to come into the chapel, setting up cots and tables and bringing in wounded soldiers for aid and surgery. "Come and help us, Beadle," called the Doctor. "It's your strong arms we need now, not your prayers."

So Pelin came and looked at the wounded soldiers, and found them wondrous pale. "What has happened to them, Doctor?" he asked. "These soldiers are as white as the sheets on my bed."

"It is the bat-men, Beadle," the Doctor said. "When they bite our soldiers, they drain the blood from them in great draughts, leaving them pale and empty."

"Horror!" cried Pelin. "You're right, Doctor, this is time for more than prayers. For Stendarr says, 'He who fights hardest prays loudest.' I know nothing of fighting or of doctoring, but I will go to the battle and trust Stendarr to show me what to do."

So Pelin ran to the fighting at the top of the great gate, where he found his friend, Sergeant Clancie, fighting a bat-man. The vampire beat at the sergeant with its wings and tried to grip him so as to bite, but Pelin grasped the bat-man by the legs so Clancie was able to kill it with his sword.

"This is no place for you!" the sergeant cried. "The bat-men are at the gate, and soon they will burst it open and take the garrison!"

Pelin looked down and saw that what the sergeant said was true: a great press of bat-men was ramming against the gates, and the doors were bulging inward. Pelin cried, "Is there nothing we can do?"

"The stone wall here has been loosened by flying stones," said the sergeant. "I had hoped to gather enough soldiers to push it down upon the bat-men—see, reinforcements are coming!—but the Gray Host will be through the gates before they can get here."

"Then I must delay them," said Pelin. And he flung himself from the battlements and upon the horde of vampires.

The wings of the bat-men broke Pelin's fall, and he landed among them hale and alive. "Vampires!" cried Pelin. "Push not upon the gate, for what you want is here: a strong, healthy body full of fresh, warm blood. Take! Drink!"

And the Gray Host turned as one and fell upon Pelin, fastening upon his veins. Then Pelin felt himself collapsing like a wine-sack at the harvest-festival, and knew that before the sergeant could gather enough soldiers he would be drained dry. So he prayed a mighty prayer, saying, "O Stendarr, God of Justice, fill me with an ocean of blood that I might beguile these daemons away from the gate but a few minutes more!"
And then Pelin felt himself filled anew with blood, flowing from him in a very fountain, and the divine geyser of gore drew every bat-man within sight into a great feeding mound before the gate.

Meanwhile Sergeant Clancie and his friends pushed against the wall above, until all of a sudden the great stones went crashing down. The bat-men were nearly all slain, and by the time the ones who weren't had gathered their wits, they saw that the pursuing legions of Empress Hestra were almost upon them. And that was the end of the Gray Host.

So that is how a beadle from Bangkorai Garrison became a saint. Now I ask you, children—does not our time resemble that of Saint Pelin? Is there not once again an army at our gates? Yes, indeed. And that's why our leaders ask each and every one of us to do as much as we can to help defend our homeland. Some of us may even have to give our lives.

So when the time comes, tell yourself that you, too, have the strength to do what's needed. For I think, if we have to, we can all be as strong as a humble man like Pelin. Don't you?

The Brothers of Strife

Author: 
Nili Omavel

My fellow scholars would have you believe the Elves of the Ashlands are unstoppable. They point to Red Mountain and other triumphant, if hard-fought, battles against the Dwemer as proof. But once long ago, our people were as fair as a mountainside in Skyrim. In that distant time, we were driven to the edge of defeat.
In the time before Red Mountain, we were known as the Chimer. We were just another race of mer eking out a living on the edge of the Inner Sea.

Then came the Nedes. Though the Nords of today are allies, the Nedes were adversaries of the darkest nature. They sought only land, conquest, and spoils. We extended open hands of diplomacy, which they lopped off. Any Elf in the horde's path was fair game—man, woman, or child.

The greatest generals of the age were brothers. Balreth and Sadal led armies of willing warriors against the horde. At first, this was an attempt to drive them from the ash. As the war went on, their actions turned purely to defense and redirection. If a force of Chimer could spend their blood allowing a village to evacuate, then that was blood well spent.

The Nedes, after a few short years, controlled most of what we now call Stonefalls. The Chimer armies were cut off from the Inner Sea and reinforcements from Vvardenfell. The brothers retreated again and again until finally, they were left with a small elite force of sorcerers and troops. This force then took shelter in an ancient Daedric ruin.

What happened at that ruin has been lost to time, but the massive statues that now mark the site endure as a mute testament. The death of the Chimer generals ended the war, but at what cost?

At this ruin, the so-called Brothers of Strife were born. My research shows that Chimer mages from Vvardenfell eventually bound the beasts, but not before the Brothers ended the lives of hundreds of men and mer. One of the darkest chapters in our people's history followed. The unstoppable beasts made the ash run red with blood, Chimer and Nede alike.

We can only speculate what brought the Brothers to Nirn. Perhaps a Daedric Prince summoned them to that ruin. Maybe it was Sheogorath having a laugh or a grim survival test from Boethiah.

When the two beasts were finally bound into the twin spires of Stonefalls, they went to their rest with the blood of history staining their claws. We must hope and pray to the Three that their like will never be seen in the Ashlands again.

A Life of Strife and Struggle

Author: 
King Laloriaran Dynar

Notes for the personal memoirs of King Laloriaran Dynar, "Last King of the Ayleids"

Structure: ten chapters as traditional, one for each of the Ten Ancestors

Chapter One: Struggles of the Late Ayleid Period (263-331)
— My father humiliated by the Empress
— Nenalata as a vassal-state to the Empire of Cyrodiil
— Wrenching transition to a slave-less economy
— Forced adoption of Alessia's Eight Divines
— I don the Crown of Nenalata
— Rising sense of futility and doom

Chapter Two: Alessian Order, Ayleid Disorder (332-371)
— Coup d'Etat in the Imperial City
— I swear fealty to the Emperor
— Theocracy in Cyrodiil
— The Ayleid Pogrom
— The vassal-states dwindle
— Nenalata stands alone

Chapter Three: Tears for Lost Nenalata (372-374)
— Ultimatum from the Emperor
— Debate with the Intransigents
— Last hours in Nenalata
— The turbulent trek from Cyrodiil
— News of the massacre of the Intransigents
— Nibbled to death by Goblins

Chapter Four: Refugees on the Bjoulsae (375-452)
— Welcomed by the Direnni
— Displacing the Orcs, founding a city
— Bisnensel-by-the-Lake
— Detente with the Bretons, armistice with the Orcs
— Disturbing news from Cyrodiil

Chapter Five: Menace of the Primeval Seekers (453-460)
— The pernicious cult of Hermaeus Mora
— Strange rites, persistent visions
— High Priest Uluscant asserts his authority
— Murder in the night
— Flight of the royal family

Chapter Six: Sanctuary Among the Direnni (461-477)
— Balfiera Island
— Ryain, Aiden, and Raven
— At War with Skyrim
— Tactician and Strategist: I find my true calling
— Hoag Merkiller defeated

Chapter Seven: Approach of the Alessian Horde (478-479)
— Rumbles from the Heartland
— We find Breton converts to Alessianism
— Scourging of the missionaries
— The Alessian Horde marches west
— The fall of Craglorn

Chapter Eight: The Mustering of High Rock (480-481)
— Envoy to the Vassal Kings
— Aiden reluctantly signs the Rights Charter
— Making legionaries out of farmhands
— The Horde swarms into High Rock
— Atrocities of the Alessians

Chapter Nine: The Battle of Glenumbria Moors (482)
— Opening skirmishes
— We present the lure
— Faolchu takes the bait
— Charge of the hidden knights
— Conjured creatures of Corvus and Calani
— Rout of the Alessians

Chapter Ten: Return to Nenalata (482-484)
— Pursuit of the Alessian Horde
— Extermination in Craglorn
— The Maruhkati Martyrs
— Return to the Heartland
— Lured to Nenalata
— Molag Bal's Insidious Trap
— Prisoner in Coldharbour

Plenty of time in here. Just hope they don't take away my writing materials. Could even Dremora be that cruel?

House Tharn of the Nibenay

Author: 
Count Opius Voteporix

Noble Families of Cyrodiil, Volume Seventeen

By Count Opius Voteporix

House Tharn of Cheydinhal is one of the most distinguished noble families of northern Nibenay, where they have held extensive estates since early in the First Era. The family may, as they claim, be as old as the First Era itself: as house historians like to point out, there is a "Tharanus Ye Redde-Hand" mentioned in the Tamrilean Tractates of 1E 200. In those days before Alessia's Slave Rebellion, this proto-Tharn was apparently a slave overseer employed by the Ayleid Elves of Fanacas, a mining hold in the hills north of modern-day Cheydinhal. Based upon the fact that the Ayleids were known to have kept business records in red ink, the Tharn historians posit that this "Redde-Hand" was probably literate and employed in some clerical capacity. To be thorough, I will mention Lady Euphemia Glaber's theory that identified this Tharanus with the notorious "Tharhan the Mutilant" of the Gradual Massacre in 1E 227, but this was completely disproved by the text of the "Scroll of Precursor Saints" discovered the in the vaults below White-Gold Tower by Chancellor Abnur Tharn in 2E 541.

House tradition holds that the Tharn family was active in St. Alessia's slave uprising, with one Vilius Tharn serving Pelinal Whitestrake as "Blade-Serrator and Master of the Abbatoir." But the next Tharn who can definitely be identified in the historical record is Fervidius Tharn of the Alessian Order, who was Arch-Prelate of the Maruhkati Selective from 1E 1188 until his death (exact date indeterminate). Fervidius is best-remembered today as the author of the "Sermons Denouncing the Seventeen Leniencies."

Noble Tharn captains led mercenary companies that fought on both sides in the War of Righteousness in the 2300s, and when the dust settled General Turpis "Volte-Face" Tharn was in possession of the broad holdings that the family today calls home. Taking the title Earl of Outer Cheydinhal, Turpis married a niece of Admiral Bendu Olo and set about fathering numerous descendants.

Several generations of Tharns served nobly and well during the Reman Empire, including Regulus Tharn, who revived the tradition of Imperial Battlemages, and Excoraeus Tharn, Emperor Kastav's Minister of Punition.

Which brings us to the members of the Tharn family of our own, current day. First and foremost, of course, is the head of the house and longtime Chancellor of the Elder Council, Abnur Tharn. Through times of trouble and the change of emperors, the Chancellor has always been there to provide the continuity and consistency our Imperial civilization needs.

Second only out of respect for her elder is Her Majesty Clivia Tharn, Empress-Regent of Cyrodiil, and daughter of Abnur Tharn by his seventh wife, Pulasia. Empress Clivia, it need hardly be said, is the widow of two emperors, having been the consort of both Leovic and Varen.

Scarcely less powerful is the Chancellor's younger half-sister, Euraxia Tharn, who has been Queen of Rimmen since the Frostfall Coup in 2E 576. And what would social events in the Imperial City be like without the presence of her son, the droll and charming Javad Tharn?

Truly, House Tharn has come to epitomize the modern Nibenese nobility. We can only hope that they will continue to be with us through the future, whatever it may bring.

(Note: Effusive enough? Also, forgot to work in Magus-General Septima. Must get that bonus A. promised.)

The Aetherium Wars

Author: 
Taron Dreth

The Aetherium Wars
by Taron Dreth

Dedicated to Katria,
my Friend and Colleague

 

The end, when it came, was swift. In the span of three short years, the great dwarven cities of Skyrim, from Markarth to the Velothi Mountains, fell before the armies of the High King. Cities that had held fast against the Nords for over a hundred years crumbled abruptly and without warning.

For centuries, scholars have marveled at the sudden collapse of the Dwemer city-states. Even the Nords seem to have been taken by surprise, though their chroniclers were quick to ascribe their success to King Gellir's inspired tactics and the blessings of Shor.

My research suggests a much different cause, however. In the decades preceding their fall, the dwarven cities of Skyrim had been decimated by internal disputes and infighting over a most surprising cause: Aetherium.

Modern scholars know Aetherium as a rare, luminescent blue crystal found in some Dwemer ruins. Most consider it little more than a curiosity, as it has proven all but impossible to work with: while it has a strong magical aura, it is alchemically inert, and no known process can enchant, smelt, mold, bind, or break it.

To the dwarves, of course, such problems were merely a challenge. In the years following King Harald's reign, the Dwemer discovered a considerable source of Aetherium in their deepest delvings. An alliance of four cities, led by Arkngthamz, the great research center in the southern Reach, was formed to oversee its extraction, processing, and study, and a new 'Aetherium Forge' constructed to smelt it under precisely controlled conditions.

If the inscriptions I discovered are to be believed, the results were nothing short of spectacular: the items produced by the Forge were artifacts of immense power, imbued from the moment of their creation with powerful enchantments. The dwarven alliance shattered almost immediately, as the four city-states and their rivals attempted to claim the Forge.

We can only speculate that none were successful. Decades of conflict merely weakened them all, allowing for King Gellir's subsequent conquests. And though the Dwemer reclaimed most of their lands a century later, there is no evidence that they ever resumed their research on Aetherium. Perhaps the costs had just been too great.

But nothing like the Aetherium Forge described in the inscriptions has ever been found within the borders of Skyrim. It may have been destroyed long ago, by the Nord invaders or the Dwemer themselves. Or perhaps it, like the secrets of Aetherium itself, still remains to be discovered.

The Amulet of Kings

Author: 
Wenengrus Monhona

In the first years of the First Era, a powerful race of Elves called the Ayleids, or the Heartland High Elves, ruled central Tamriel with an iron hand. The high and haughty Ayleids relied on their patrons, the treacherous Daedra Lords, to provide armies of daedra and dead spirits; with these fearless magical armies, the Ayleids preyed without mercy upon the young races of men, slaughtering or enslaving them at their whim.

On behalf of the suffering human races, St. Alessia, the first in the line of Cyrodiils, sought the aid of Akatosh, the Dragon God of Time, and ruler of the noble Aedra. Akatosh, looking with pity upon the plight of men, drew precious blood from his own heart, and blessed St. Alessia with this blood of Dragons, and made a Covenant that so long as Alessia's generations were true to the dragon blood, Akatosh would endeavor to seal tight the Gates of Oblivion, and to deny the armies of daedra and undead to their enemies, the Daedra-loving Ayleids.

In token of this Covenant, Akatosh gave to Alessia and her descendants the Amulet of Kings and the Eternal Dragonfires of the Imperial City. Thus does Alessia become the first gem in the Cyrodilic Amulet of Kings. The gem is the Red Diamond in the middle of the Amulet. This is the Symbol of the Empire and later taken as the symbol of the Septim line. It is surrounded by eight other gems, one for each of the divines.

So long as the Empire shall maintain its worship of Akatosh and his kin, and so long as Alessia's heirs shall bear the Amulet of Kings, Akatosh and his divine kin maintain a strong barrier between Tamriel and Oblivion, so that mortal man need never again fear the devastating summoned hosts of the Daedra Lords.

But if the Empire should slacken in its dedication to the Nine Divines, or if the blood of Alessia's heirs should fail, then shall the barriers between Tamriel and the Daedric realms fall, and Daedra-worshippers might summon lesser Daedra and undead spirits to trouble the races of men.

 

Holdings of Jarl Gjalund

Author: 
Slafknir the Scribe

Survey of the Holdings of Jarl Gjalund

As Witnessed by Slafknir the Scribe, so Sworn by the Old Gods and the New

 

Whiterun -  [AHROLSEDOVAH] - The Jarl's Holding, with Plentiful Water and Pasturage. Home of Jorrvaskr, the Far-Famed Hall of the Companions.

Rorik's Steading -  [RORIKHOFKAH] - A Small Farmstead in the Western Plains. Grain, Leather, Horses.

Granite Hill -  [QUETHSEGOL AHROL] - Three Farms and an Inn, just North of the Falkreath. A Market is Held here Weekly.

H'roldan -  [AHROLDAN] - A Spacious Wooden Hall and Pasturage, recently Seized from the Reachmen. Silver and Iron as Tribute from the Natives.

Bromjunaar -  [BROMJUN1R] - An Old Settlement, much Reduced from Former Days. Lumber and Stone.

Korvanjund -  [KORVANJUND] - A Small Fortified Settlement. Hides and Meat.

Volunruud -  [VOLUNR5D] - A Fortified Wooden Hall near Giants' Gap. Meat and Worked Ivory.

Hillgrund's Steading -  [HILLGRUNDHOFKAH] - A Large Farmstead Near the Base of the Monahven. Grain, Mead, Honey.

 

The Last King of the Ayleids

Author: 
Herminia Cinna

The Ayleids, or Heartland High Elves, ruled Cyrodiil in the long ages of Myth before the beginning of recorded history. One of the earliest recorded dates, in fact, is the Fall of White Gold Tower in 1E 243, which is commonly assumed to mark the end of the Ayleids.

Although Ayleid rule over all of Cyrodiil was indeed broken in 1E 243, this was only one of the most obvious stages near the end of a long decline. The first two centuries of the First Era saw increasing strife between the great Ayleid lords of Cyrodiil. Alessia appears to have taken advantage of a period of civil war to launch her uprising. Imperial historians have traditionally attributed her victory to intervention from Skyrim, but it appears that she had at least as much help from rebel Ayleid lords during the siege of White Gold Tower.

The popular image of the Ayleids as brutal slavemasters is based in fact, of course, but it is less well-known that a number of Ayleid princes continued to rule parts of Cyrodiil after 263, as vassals of the new Empress of Cyrodiil. This suggests either that Ayleid rule was not universally detested, or that Alessia and her successors were more pragmatic than is traditionally believed, or perhaps some of both.

In any event, excavations at a number of Ayleid sites show continued occupation and even expansion during the so-called Late Ayleid Period (1E 243 - c. 498). At first, many Ayleid lords continued to rule as vassals of the new human regime. In some cases, Ayleid supporters of Alessia were even rewarded with new lands taken from slain enemies. It is not clear to what extent human slavery continued under the Cyrodilic Empire. Humans continued to dwell in the Ayleid-ruled areas of Cyrodiil, but there is nothing definitive to show under what terms.

This was an uneasy relationship from the beginning, and was not destined to last long. Resentment at the continued presence of Ayleid nobles within the Empire was a contributing factor to the rise of the so-called Alessian Order founded by Maruhk. The first victims of the Alessians were the Ayleids of Cyrodiil. In the early 300s, the surviving Ayleid communities in human-ruled areas were obliterated one by one, the refugees temporarily swelling the power of the remaining Ayleid lordships.

Then in 361, the Alessians gained control of the Empire and enforced the Alessian Doctrines throughout its domain. The Ayleid lordships were abolished. Enforcement of this decree does not appear to have required much direct violence -- it seems that by this point the balance of power was so overwhelmingly against them, and their fate so long foreshadowed, that most of the remaining Ayleids simply left Cyrodiil, eventually being absorbed into the Elven populations of Valenwood and High Rock. Indeed, the rise of the Direnni Hegemony may be linked to this exodus of Ayleids from Cyrodiil (a connection so far little studied by historians).

Still, a remnant Ayleid population seems to have survived the rule of the Alessians, because we hear of "the last king of the Ayleids" joining the battle of Glenumbria Moors where the Dirennis decisively defeated the Alessians in 482. How this king's people survived the preceding century is unknown. We do not even know who they were, although recent research points to Nenalata as the possible resting place of this "last king." Unfortunately, in the current state of the Empire, funds are no longer available for proper scientific investigation of such extensive ruins, so the answer to these questions will have to be left to future generations.