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Sinder Velvin
Librarian Comment: 

A special thanks goes to Aquiantus for transcribing the text for us.


It is late in the Second Era, a time of war as the Empire of Tiber Septim sweeps through the Kingdoms of Tamriel in a glorious bid for conquest. Septim is opposed on all sides, but never more fiercely than by Hammerfell the ancestral home of the Redguards. The High King of Hammerfell, Thassad II resists the Imperial invasions even as he sees other kingdoms crumble until, at last, without warning and suprisingly devoid of court treachery, death takes its full measure. With its High King dead, Hammerfell is crippled plunging into a bloody civil war between the Crowns, fighting for their homeland's continued sovereignty, and the Forebears, who have finally accepted the Emperor's rule. The Crowns, led by the heir to Thassad, Prince A'tor, are continually victorious, spilling the blood of the Forebears across Hammerfell's sands. From his seat of power in the port City of Stros M'kai, Prince A'tor slowly reunites his father's unraveled kingdom. Feeling their impending defeat, the Forebears sign a pact with the Emperor, allowing him to bring his armies in, crush the Crowns, and rule Hammerfell as his own. Tiber Septim's armies prove too much for the proud Redguard Crowns. Tiber Septim sends his best commander, Lord Richton, to Stros M'kai to close the grip on Prince A'tor and the Crowns. The Prince rallies his forces for one last stand. Knowing that Hammerfell's sovereignty is at stake, the Crown forces match the might of the Empire meeting them in the Harbor of Stros M'kai for the final battle. The fighting is fierce. Lord Richton, having seen the Prince's victories at sea before, decides to bring his last resource to the fore...

...the dragon, Nafalilargus, proud Jewel of the Imperial Crown. A'tor commands his archers to ready their weapons...

...but is struck down himself by Richton's assassin, felled by an arrow whose poison spreads too fast. A'tor's wizard attempts to save the Prince but the Dragon ends his magic, and the Crown's hope for victory, in a single, fiery breath. Having conquered the Crowns, the Emperor's forces claim rule over all of Hammerfell. Imperial garrisons are stationed at every city and Richton himself is named Provisional Governor of Stros M'kai. Months pass. The Redguards of Hammerfell both Crown and Forebear learn to live under the new Imperial rule and Tiber Septim extends his reach into the rest of Tamriel. It is only through fate that any of this will come to concern our hero, Cyrus, A Redguard who long ago left Hammerfell to wander the borderlands of the Empire.

S'ratha and Cyrus are talking in a tavern. There is snow falling outside.

S'rathra says, "Smile, Cyrus. Here's the excuse you've been looking for."

"Let's make this short, S'rathra. I've got work to do," responds Cyrus.

"All you mercenaries are the same. Sit."

"I leave with Duadeen's men in an hour."

"Ruffians in the night, heavy with Imperial coin, after some poor farmer who owes the kingdom his wife."

"You should know, you got me the job."

"And he taketh away. For you." He then passes a letter to Cyrus. "S'rathra knows you've said you'd never return to Hammerfall, but this seemed important."

"The seal is broken."

"S'rathra was concerned."

"Yeah, I bet you were."

"Don't worry about Duadeen. S'rathra fix. S'rathra fix anything."


"Your sister's disappearance draws a shudder."

"I need a ship!" replies Cyrus

"The port is full of them and S'rathra's name goes far towards the price of passage."

"Money, too."

"Keep Duadeen's retainer. It's a family affair, after all. Tell s'rathra, why did you never mention your sister before?"

"We haven't spoken in ten years. There was trouble."

"What kind?"

"I killed her husband..."