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"Hail the Argonian!" the Countess of Chorrol yelled out, and a resounding cheer boomed throughout the room. While the Countess sat on one end of the table, a hooded Argonian by the name of Norid Der'ec sat on the other. Everyone of importance was at the feast that was being held in Norid's honor, for he had shown the town guard how to close the portals to Oblivion. The crimson sigil stone sat on a pedestal on the center of the temple, and was soon to be put as a permanent honor above the doorway of the Castle, embedded into the brickwork.

However, the Argonian hardly ate, and while he quaffed eight glasses of wine, his speech was neither slurred nor slow. His eyes still darted invisibly under his hood, monitering everything in the room. Then, the Countess continued by adressing Norid.

"Well, Der'ec, do you have anything to say?"

As he had been expecting this question, he waited so as not to show that he knew what he was going to say, and then started in a thick Argonian accent. The food on his plate was glazed in a green mist as he spoke, and many of the attendants nearly froze at his voice. Even the Countess was visibly unnerved.

"It was nothing, really. I closed one ze hellgates in the Colovian Highlands. To tell ze truth, I only learned how to close the gate by eavezdropping on a Dremora who was taunting a prisoner. Naturally, I released the prisoner, though of his fate I do not know, and killed the red-skinned creature. I'm happy to have turned this infra'mation over to ze good of Chorrol."

The Countess showed visible relief when she was sure that he had finished, and continued.

"Well, naturally, we will be sending this information to Drac'rad Flat-foot, the Commanding Officer in Cheydinhal."

Even though he had been hardly moving before, every eye was fixed on him, and the sudden lack of movement in him at the name "Drac'rad Flat-foot" was extremely noticable.

"Who?" was the only word that came out of his mouth.

"Drac'rad Flat-foot. He's the Commanding Officer in Chorrol. Why, do you know him?"

Norid quickly covered his mistake. "No, no. I thought you said Dark-lad Latdut, who is a Daedric Worshipper whom I have been hunting. Nothing to worry about."

However, in five minutes, the Countess began to address Norid again, but when she turned to his chair, he was gone...


___________________________

A shower of sparks and flame exploded into the night sky as Drac'rad Flat-foot shot an explosion missile into a crown of Daedra. While the flame atronachs came out with little harm, the blast left pieces of Daedroths, Scamps, Dremoras, and Clanfears in a pile of charred rubble.

"Fire!" his Argonian voice yelled out, deep and calm, and a volley of arrows felled any remaining Daedra coming from the gate. A group of soldiers headed through the Cheydinhal East Gate, which was quickly closed as more Daedra came out of the gate, and headed into the gate to close it.

As Drac'rad threw an orb of frost at the oncoming Daedra, comprised mostly of Daedroths and Flame Atronachs, an arrow bounced off of his glass armor. His face was covered by a swirling blue glass helmet that he had enchanted to raise his marksmanship. In response to the Dremora archer that tried to fell him, he unsheathed his bow, drew an arrow, and fired to shots. One hit the sniper in the shoulder, the other in the left eye, and he fell dead. A fireball came at him from a scamp, and a Daedroth choked up its own projectile. Both were absorbed by a his bow, granting him some small ability to cast spells. However, another arrow planted itself in the unguarded section of skin between his pauldrons and his helmet, and he was stunned for a moment, before he shot his most powerful spell at the assailant in his anger. It took nearly ten minutes for the flames to clear, and another twenty for the smoke to dissapate from the spot where the spell had hit, but when it did, nothing was left but a charred suit of Dremora Caitiff armor.

However, in his anger, he had depleted his magicka stores, and he was in no condition to take a hit from a Daedroth's fire breathing ability. He sent for a healer, and in the meantime, drank a potion to regenerate his magicka slightly. He tossed the bottle to the battlements, and it rolled to the grassy ground below, clanking onto one of the ten bottles that already laid there. The siege had been going on for two days, and the Cheydinhal Guard had only lost four units. However, there were not enough soldiers to keep up this onslaught, as the Daedra attacked day and night, never tiring. Their animus' regenerated in Oblivion within twenty-four hours, making their supply nearly limitless. He looked around, and saw a soldier holding a silver bow, striking down Daedra with deadly precision. However, even when he planted an arrow in a Clanfear's scaly throat, it wasn't always fatal.

"Here, you! Toss me your bow!"

Though the young guard looked slightly confused, he complied, and Drac'rad tossed him back his bow, which was of Elven make, and glew dimly red.

"Use that one for a moment while I make this one a little more potent," said the Argonian as he ducked below the battlements, opened his sack, and produced a sigil stone. The Guard fired of one shot with the bow, and hit a Dremora in the shoulder. However, the creature slowed its run considerably, and as it was fatigued to its limit, it collapsed. Another well-placed arrow ended its life temporarily as it fainted. Around that time, Drac'rad finished using the Sigil Stone to enchant the bow, and though he didn't know what effect it held, he knew that it would be deadly. His own bow had been enchanted with one of the stones.

"Here!" He called, and the two traded bows again. The next vitim of the Guard's arrow burst into flame, taking two steps before its charred body fell to pieces.

Drac'rad smiled as the Oblivion gate faltered, and the guards that had entered were choked out, one wounded minorly, the others with blood-soaked swords. A Xivilai tried to run out of the gate as it closed, but it failed, and its right leg was left to rot in the desolate plains of Oblivion. However, it hopped toward the guards that had closed the gate with speed, and would have succeeded in killing the wounded one if the broken gate had not split and fallen on it. The red, bloody pool that appared around it contrasted with its bluish skin so much that it seemed unreal. However, few besides Drac'rad had ever had to fight a Xivilai, and knew that their strengths were only matched in the Daedric Realm by the dremoras themselves.

The sound of cheering brought Zakkon running to the East Gate. He climbed up the wall, and watched the cheering guards from a distance. By the look of the dead Daedra and Dremora that lay everywhere, a great battle had been fought here, and an Oblivion Gate closed.

Zakkon shaded his eyes with one hand, to block the glare of the sun as he searched for who he'd been sent to find. Finally, he spotted him upon the wall. He slowly and non chalantly snuck along. He was good at what he did, and he was confident that he wouldn't be seen before he reached his target.

He came up behind him, and leaned to whisper a question in his ear. "What do you know of the one called Norid, and where can I find him?"

((Well, there was something about Drac'rad that just made me want to kill him. Don't know why, but I did. However, I'd misread what you'd written, and sent Zakkon to Cheydinhal, not to Chorrol. When I realized this, I figured that since you'd created both Drac'rad and Norid, and that they were both Argonians helping to close the Oblivion Gates, there was probably something going on, or, at least something could be made to be going on. So, instead of changing the post so that he was heading to Chorrol, because that would mean changing my base info and what not, I just decided that I'd head to Cheydinhal and ask Drac'rad what he knew. Quite amusing to find out what you'd told me.))

Zakkon was slightly surprised that he hadn't seen this Norid before, but he hid it well. It'd do no good letting them know that he'd been taken by surprise.

"Well well. Though I find this all quite amusing I assure you, I didn't come here for you Drac'rad. In fact, I had no intention of even threatening you."

He turned to Norid, and said, "I was sent here by my Lady to find you. My Lady is mildy understanding when it's necessary, and so I was sent to find the one who'd been teaching others to close the Oblivion Gates. Needless to say, my Lady does not find this amusing in the least, and would like you to cease such actions."

He then turned to Drac'rad, and said, "However it seems that you're closing Gates as well. This will not do. I'm under orders to demand that both of you let the Gates remain open, and my Lady's will to go unhampered. Lest she be forced to take certain actions to... stop you."

He smiled, and quickly drank an Antivenom potion, curing the poison. He threw the bottle to the ground and laughed as he said, "No, none of my equipment gives me the ability to resist paralysis, but my vampirism does. I'd always considered it a pain to have to feed every night so that i could go out in the sun, but for paralysis resistance, I'm now thinking that it's not as much of a pain as it used to be."

With that he flipped backwards, turned, and sprinted off across the wall. Despite the fact that Norid had managed to sneak up on him, he knew that neither man would be able to keep up with him when it came to running. Soon, he was out of sight, but surely not out of mind.

He grabbed out a quick invisibility scroll, and cast it upon himself. He knew it wouldn't last for long, but he wouldn't need it to. He picked up the bow and the single arrow he'd stolen as he'd ran past the guards, and fixed a written message to it.

It read, "I see that you've chosen to attack the messenger. You have poor honor, but so be it. My Lady has warned you, and politely asked you to stop. Now, the time for etiquette is at an end, just as my Lady's patience is. So be it, if you will not choose to comply with her wishes, then you choose to die for the completion of her wishes."

With that he turned, fired the arrow so that it would land at their feet, threw down the bow, and ran off. He'd be around, and watching their every move, but he didn't plan to be doing so from too close of a distance.