Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)The heavy rattle and clatter of armour, weapons and equipment being dragged across the street would have woken both the living and the dead. A group of about a dozen Imperial men and women strolled across the stone streets of the Imperial city, clad in their thick steel armour and wielding great silver blades. Another patrol it seemed. The Imperial guard were growing more and more cautious (and more importantly, paranoid) as each day passed, and with each day there were more guards.
They were right to increase security, however, as these were harsh times. Few people liked to see more soldiers patroling the streets, but it was for their own safety. There was no true force commanding of Cyrodil anymore since the last Emperor, Martin Septim, sacrificed himself to protect Nirn. The poorly equipped and unprepared Elder Council which had been thrown back into control over the last few years, although they were doing a poor job keeping the peace without an Emperor to guide them, and the Empire itself was growing weak. The Imperial City had been penetrated and the throne of the Empire was ripe for the taking. Those seeking gold and fame rushed to the call, and soon the city was being assaulted every couple of days. Usually these were small groups of a few dozen bandits, but more than once had a fully functioning army risen to take down the walls.
The soldiers had woken Arque from her rest, forcing her up at the crack of dawn. The morning light gently flittered in through the window and into her city dwellings, casting it in yellow, only improved as the Altmer pulled back the curtains. It was morning, even if too early for her tastes, and there was no point heading back to rest. Arque stared out of the window for a few moments longer, taking in the bright lights and sounds, before darting off to her dresser and began to get herself changed. Typical garbs of green, she wore, as was typical of Arque, and her long golden hair was tied back with a thin piece of string.
Half an hour had passed, and Arque had readied herself for business once more. The door to her quaint potion shop had been unlocked and the sign had been switched to open. She preoccupied herself, waiting for a customer to arrive, by grinding up some herbs with a mortar and pestle, humming to herself as she did so. An old High elf song if she remembered correctly, although were she heard it and the original words she struggled to remember.
They were right to increase security, however, as these were harsh times. Few people liked to see more soldiers patroling the streets, but it was for their own safety. There was no true force commanding of Cyrodil anymore since the last Emperor, Martin Septim, sacrificed himself to protect Nirn. The poorly equipped and unprepared Elder Council which had been thrown back into control over the last few years, although they were doing a poor job keeping the peace without an Emperor to guide them, and the Empire itself was growing weak. The Imperial City had been penetrated and the throne of the Empire was ripe for the taking. Those seeking gold and fame rushed to the call, and soon the city was being assaulted every couple of days. Usually these were small groups of a few dozen bandits, but more than once had a fully functioning army risen to take down the walls.
The soldiers had woken Arque from her rest, forcing her up at the crack of dawn. The morning light gently flittered in through the window and into her city dwellings, casting it in yellow, only improved as the Altmer pulled back the curtains. It was morning, even if too early for her tastes, and there was no point heading back to rest. Arque stared out of the window for a few moments longer, taking in the bright lights and sounds, before darting off to her dresser and began to get herself changed. Typical garbs of green, she wore, as was typical of Arque, and her long golden hair was tied back with a thin piece of string.
Half an hour had passed, and Arque had readied herself for business once more. The door to her quaint potion shop had been unlocked and the sign had been switched to open. She preoccupied herself, waiting for a customer to arrive, by grinding up some herbs with a mortar and pestle, humming to herself as she did so. An old High elf song if she remembered correctly, although were she heard it and the original words she struggled to remember.