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The Gospel of Saint Felms
Though the fires of Red Mountain had subsided and the traitorous Houses had been vanquished, infidels remained throughout Resdayn. In the west, the great fortresses of Redoran were all at once surrounded by the heathen children of the sky. The mer of those lands cried out, “Where have you gone, Champion of Resdayn? The war has reached our gates, and the Lord, Mother, and Wizard have abandoned us!”
In the latter days of the First Council, the heirs of Ysgramor descended from beyond the mouth of Dwemereth Pass, conquering and to conquer. First fell the cities of Ald Khos and Gargen Hu'ul, then Baan Malur and lost Tel Providiihn. From the blood and tears of the subjugated Dunmer they raised a tower of weighty stone, which defiled the land and marred the sky. This place the Nords called the Shorhroth, for upon its height were sacrificed an innumerable number of mer to sate the hunger of their fallen god Shor.
Yet the plight of Redoran did not go unheard. From Vvardenfell and Kragenmoor rose ten mighty columns, bearing forth the high banners of Indoril and Redoran. Even House Retheran sent forth the last of their sons, among them the youth Felms, the standard-bearer. The other houses had been gravely injured. Dres retreated into the depths of the jungles. Telvanni sorcerers returned to their secret works in the lofty living towers. Hlaalu merchants reopened their shops and counted their gold.
Unlike his older brothers, Felms’ voice was marred by stutters and lapses. “The gods have burdened you by taking your voice,” spoke Salam. “You are useless in battle, Felms! It was Father who made us bring you. General Triffith has no need of a fishmonger, brother! We have no need of you! Return home at once!”
Felms did not dishearten. He lifted the proud banner of his family higher than even mighty Indoril. The blue letters upon silver cloth shimmered in the morning light.
“How will you help General Triffith, Felms? I love you, my brother, but I cannot see your usefulness here. You should have remained at home to help Father with the butcher shop,” spoke Ahasour.
Yet Felms simply hastened more, gazing at the magnificent stature and armor of Lord Indoril Triffith.
North they marched into the lands of Redoran towards the scorched and shattered ruins of Tel Providiihn and Ald Khos.
Even great House Indoril trembled at the sights in the lands of Redoran. Ald Khos smoldered. Tel Providiihn stood out of the ground like broken bone, splintered and shattered near its summit. Fallen mer were strewn everywhere; some were made into banners, others into living braziers, and still more pinned unto trees with countless arrows. Yet even with these atrocities, there stood still north of them the great tower of Shorhroth. It spewed smoke as though it were Red Mountain. House Redoran cried out, for their kin had been raped and murdered. “Why have you forsaken us, ALMSIVI? The banner of Redoran has sunken below the mountains.” Lord Varam wailed. He beat his spear against his shield.
“Your House shall be avenged soon, brother,” spoke Lord Indoril Triffith.
With all their might, the ten columns marched forward into the occupied lands. The land was silent, no guar, no hound, no boar. Perhaps the Nords had slaughtered them as well. As the night turned into dawn, they gazed upon the iniquitous tower of Shorhroth. The sacred river had been defiled, for the ten thousand altars drained their contents into the river. Three great flumes spewed forth blood and gore. Among the dead were found many lawmen and kinsmen of House Redoran.
“The Chimer have come, treacherous children of the sky!” Varam and Triffith cried out.
From atop the tower descended one dressed with gold and white, stained blood red. “The Chimer are at an end, high lords of Resdayn. You have become dark and not golden as the rays of Shor. You have brought many men, but I have brought more.”
From beyond the tower's walls, came forth fifteen men dressed in furs and ice. They stood in line. These were the famed Serpuul of Skyrim, the Tongues.
Lord Varam, a councilman of House Redoran, came forth from his men. “Enough!” He drew his sword and two columns of Redoran mer pounced upon the wicked priest, whose name was Ragnar Stormcrow.
Too much vengeance filled his mind. The Serpuul only whispered a single utterance and the two columns were felled. Yet General Varam was spared.
Ragnar Stormcrow smiled. “I have shown you mercy, Dark Elf.”
Lord Indoril Triffith and Lord Varam drew their swords and descended upon the stone tower. From on high, rained down countless arrows. For atop the tower were many skilled marksmen. Salam and Ahasour lifted their halberds and ran towards battle, but Felms remained.
Though the mer fought gloriously, they were beaten back. Lord Triffith lay atop his shield unconscious. Lord Varam had been killed.
Deep within his throat, Felms heard the sweet voice of Ayem. “Felms, you are my voice.”
Deep within his mind, Felms recognized the wise thoughts of Seht. “Felms, you are my thought.”
Deep within his soul, Felms felt the presence of the divine Vehk. “Felms, you are the messenger. Pronounce the sacred words of ALMSIVI.”
Felms planted his banner into the ground and gathered his voice. With a thunderous peal he cried out to the Skyrim priest, “ALMSIVI has come. The age of your favor has ended! A new dawn has risen from the ashes of Red Mountain. Get you and yours from hence, ALMSIVI has come to chastise the wicked and cleanse the land!”
Yet Ragnar Stormcrow mocked Felms and took up his bow and arrow. Salam and Ahasour ran to their brother’s side but were felled by the shouts of the Serpuul.
Though his throat had been pierced by three arrows, Felms took up his cleaver and whispered over it the hidden words of Vehk and the secret words of Ayem and the arcane words of Seht. With clarity of voice and vision, Felms cried out, “ALMSIVI guides us. There are no others.” He lifted his cleaver into the sky and cast it towards the sun. As it struck, the sky became as pitch but for the sun itself, which seemed to flail like the molten metals of Anudnabia. “Praise the might of ALMSIVI! Praise the will of ALMSIVI! Praise the undying glory of ALMSIVI!”
Felms ascended into the sky and began to twist and writhe in the air. His eyes became as the firestones of the forge of Molagria. As he opened his mouth, voices came forth that were not his own. Thousands of voices resounded against the sides of the Velothi Mountains. It seemed as though the world sang together. The song filled the lands of the Redoran. The foundations of far away Bodrem trembled. The temples of the sacred river sundered. It was then that the might of ALMSIVI was seen before the mer of the two great houses. The song grew louder, then louder, almost unbearable. Even the Serpuul had fled back into the bloodstained tower of Shorhroth. Cracks rose from beneath the land, shattering the ten thousand altars of Shor. Ragnar Stormcrow descended from on high and came forth with bow and arrow. As he reached for his quiver, he realized he had already shot the last of his arrows.
“You seek weapons to slay the messenger of the Gods? There is nothing you have that will slay great Vehk, mighty Ayem, or wise Seht! Two houses have already fallen at their hands. The great purification is coming to its end. See behind you, heathen! Your Serpuul have fled back beyond the Dwemereth Pass. Thus speaks ALMSIVI. Take back your arrows, one for every mer slaughtered to your wicked idol.” And the blotted sky became as countless arrows, which descended from above to impale the heathen upon that spot.
Felms descended from the clouds and hacked the priest's iniquitous head from its shoulders. “Thus speaks ALMSIVI: Behold the deceiver of the deceived. See the face of he who has undone this land. The Serpuul of Skyrim have been silenced. ALMSIVI has spoken through the voiceless. From this mouth shall blossom the sacred words of the Lord, Mother, and Wizard. With these hands and lips ALMSIVI shall heal the people!”
In the days to follow, the armies led by Felms drove the Nords as far west as High Windhelm. Upon his deathbed, General Indoril Triffith gave over his rank to Lord Felms of House Retheran. For many decades to come, Saint Felms defended Resdayn from the invading Nords and Cyrods.
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