Snoball
23rd President of the United States of America
On the grand, serene shores of Summerset Isle stood a young Altmer noble alongside his wife, a petite elf whose natural beauty could rival even that of Dibella's. The sun gently graces them as a pleasant sea breeze rolls in from the clear, blue ocean. This place appears completely untouched by the woes of the world, or so it would appear.
The noble notices the wind picking up speed, shortly followed by dark clouds and crackling lightning emerging in the distance. Once the sun had been blotted from the greying sky, the noble's wife beckoned him to leave so they can return to the comfort of their home. He payed her no mind, gazing at the oncoming storm that wildly danced upon the once calm ocean surface. She called again, but he could not help but walk towards the calamity, almost awestruck by the emerging chaos.
She yelled for him one final time, and at last snapped him from his trance. He looked back however to see she was no longer there. Instead of calling out for her, the Altmer calmly looks back into the direction of the storm that has now hit the shores in full force. He closes his eyes, unable to run as the calamity envelopes him.
The eyes of the Thalmor Ambassador creak open from a faint ray of sunshine hitting his face through the window. A dream, perhaps? It was of little concern, especially with what this new day would entail for Azrael. With a hum of content, the ambassador rose from his bed and freshened up. Donning his officer's robes as opposed to his formal ones from the previous day, the High Elf was assisted by Bosmer servants in preparing himself for the negotiations ahead. Saphira greets the ambassador on the 1st floor.
"Have our guests arrived?" Azrael looks from outside the nearest window. He sees the unusually high amount of travelers and pilgrims entering the city and going about their business.
"The militia has already begun to occupy the city. The steady approach of inclement weather seems to be reason enough for these guards to assume these travelers are just here seeking rest and shelter." Azrael makes note of the sun hiding beyond the clouds as a light drizzle begins to fall. A sly smirk graces the face of the ambassador as he witnesses the steady influx of travelers into Solitude.
"Good. If that foolish girl continues to resist the winds of change that rush towards Evermore, then today she shall bend... or she shall break. Ensure our key operatives are in position via informants. I will compose a letter to inform Elenwen of our withdrawal from Skyrim once our business is settled. No doubt she will be simply thrilled." Saphira nods in approval as she leaves to handle her assigned task. Azrael heads to his desk to begin his letter, brimming with confidence on the outside, yet uncharacteristically anxious for some reason.
@Zelda
The noble notices the wind picking up speed, shortly followed by dark clouds and crackling lightning emerging in the distance. Once the sun had been blotted from the greying sky, the noble's wife beckoned him to leave so they can return to the comfort of their home. He payed her no mind, gazing at the oncoming storm that wildly danced upon the once calm ocean surface. She called again, but he could not help but walk towards the calamity, almost awestruck by the emerging chaos.
She yelled for him one final time, and at last snapped him from his trance. He looked back however to see she was no longer there. Instead of calling out for her, the Altmer calmly looks back into the direction of the storm that has now hit the shores in full force. He closes his eyes, unable to run as the calamity envelopes him.
The eyes of the Thalmor Ambassador creak open from a faint ray of sunshine hitting his face through the window. A dream, perhaps? It was of little concern, especially with what this new day would entail for Azrael. With a hum of content, the ambassador rose from his bed and freshened up. Donning his officer's robes as opposed to his formal ones from the previous day, the High Elf was assisted by Bosmer servants in preparing himself for the negotiations ahead. Saphira greets the ambassador on the 1st floor.
"Have our guests arrived?" Azrael looks from outside the nearest window. He sees the unusually high amount of travelers and pilgrims entering the city and going about their business.
"The militia has already begun to occupy the city. The steady approach of inclement weather seems to be reason enough for these guards to assume these travelers are just here seeking rest and shelter." Azrael makes note of the sun hiding beyond the clouds as a light drizzle begins to fall. A sly smirk graces the face of the ambassador as he witnesses the steady influx of travelers into Solitude.
"Good. If that foolish girl continues to resist the winds of change that rush towards Evermore, then today she shall bend... or she shall break. Ensure our key operatives are in position via informants. I will compose a letter to inform Elenwen of our withdrawal from Skyrim once our business is settled. No doubt she will be simply thrilled." Saphira nods in approval as she leaves to handle her assigned task. Azrael heads to his desk to begin his letter, brimming with confidence on the outside, yet uncharacteristically anxious for some reason.
@Zelda
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