nexus_sages | Single Guard Seeks Thief…

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Single Guard Seeks Thief…

...Wait, no, not that way.

Having been absent from his post for a couple of weeks or so, Felix is once again in Legion leathers and stationed outside the heavy rune-inscribed doors that mark ‘his’ portal. He’s sitting casually atop the desk draped with its red and black Imperial banner, turning something blue-white and glimmering over in his hand. A quill? A feather? Some sort of pin?

“How is it that when you want to find a particular sort of person, they’re nowhere to be found?” he asks, pushing his hood back. “Even when normally you’d be shaking them out of your pockets.”

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Is summoning one something he'd normally object to? Or need to?

“The tribune is a responsible, upstanding citizen. Naturally he doesn’t approve of dealing with daedra.” Felix sighs. “I think he had to convince himself that the people here don’t count. It's a shame: his knowledge would be very useful for a summoning."

Well, I don't know what constitutes upstanding citizenry where you're from. Perhaps he'd help if you said you needed his input to make sure it doesn't go wrong?

"That could sway him. But we'd have to get him committed to these radio receivers first. Otherwise he'll just order me to go back to my destruction studies." Which he really should put time into: Felix himself considers it a bad joke that he's being called a 'battlemage' when destruction is one of his worst areas.

Well, that's easy.

*She smirks.*

Ask him if he thinks instantaneous communication between cities is in the Empire's interest.

"The next time he complains about how to get news from the south? I'll bet I can talk him into it before he knows what's happening."

Well, there you go.

*A smirk tugs at her lips.*

If you need help, send him my way. I've got a half-billion worlds' worth of military history, full of examples of groups that prioritized developing better communication winning against groups that prioritized better weapons.

*She sobers.*

Because there's another war coming, isn't there?

He's nodding happily when her question makes him blink.

"War?" He does a rather good job of feigning surprise for all of a minute before it's broken by a slight smile. "It's that easy to see, is it?"

Maybe not for everyone, but war is kind of my thing. So. Tell me about the enemy?

"The Thalmor? The tribune told you some of it, didn't he?" Not that he has any qualms about sharing.

"High Elves from the Summerset Isles. They're religious fanatics obsessed with cultural purity. They're taller than humans, they live at least three times longer, they're better at magic - on the average. As far as I can tell, Thalmor resent humans and despise lesser elves. Including those of their own race who don't adhere to their dogma."

It never hurts to hear another perspective.

*She listens thoughtfully--and is already weighing out a few possible ways to needle them.*

Taller than humans--do they average taller than me?

*There's one, right there. She stands 6'4" in bare feet, and sometimes disconcerts people who are used to looking down on everyone else.*

So it's a dominant political subculture, not the species as a whole. Resent is an interesting choice of word though, why resent? Humans have something they don't?

"Fair point. I wouldn't say they're taller than you at all. But you all look the same to us tiny Imperials," he teases.

He's quick to give an emphatic nod at her next remark. Most Altmer are good people - the ones who escaped to the Empire, anyway. "It's hard to say exactly. Some of it is that we're uppity beasts refusing to accept our place in the world. I mean, the Summerset Isles were under Imperial rule for centuries, and the man who conquered them was worshiped as a god. I suppose that still stings."

He certainly hopes so.

"There's another part to it I don't fully understand. I mean, keep in mind, you don't discuss philosophy with a Thalmor. Mora knows I only make as much eye contact as I need to. But the rough version is, they believe Altmer are direct descendants of, er, divine spirits. The same exalted race as the Divines themselves. Whereas humans were created by the god who tricked them all into leaving the divine realm and getting trapped in mortal form. Or perhaps our ancestors just allied with him. Either way, their mortality is... our fault, somehow?" He shrugs, hands spread - who can say if there's even logic behind it?

Hm. Remind me to teach you to paraglide, sometime. The view from above is enlightening.

*She smirks back.*

So... they used to be gods--or so they believe--but your empire of "lesser beings" conquered them, and the lead conqueror got "their" seat at the big, gold table in the sky. I can see how they'd chafe under that. Resentment like that, left to simmer long enough... what changed? Something must've made it seem like an opportune moment for their first war, or they wouldn't be building toward a second one now.

“Paraglide? Is that something like space-jumping?” ~~Void~~ Space people have strange and terrifying hobbies, he knows this already.

His history lessons are getting a bit of a workout now, although this always was a subject of particular interest during his upbringing. How many times did he sit by the fire while his elders debated and rehashed their opinions of the war?

“It was coming for a long time. The Thalmor spent more than a century wiping out dissenters and gaining ground on the mainland. But they ran out of territory to ‘claim’ between themselves and the Imperial province, and… I think they really were trying to take the Empire piecemeal. Except the last time they went to take a bite, they realized they had a clear shot at our throat. And they succeeded in wiping out the Emperor’s network of undercover agents along the way. It’s… about as long and bloody a story as you can guess.” His mouth twitches in a way that might be familiar.

Perhaps a little. You wear fabric membranes between your arms and legs, then jump off of something tall and spread your limbs out. It creates a gliding surface, and with some practice it can be reasonably maneuverable. If you've ever dreamed of flying, it comes pretty close.

*She listens, nodding thoughtfully. She looks briefly sympathetic at the mention of the spy games, because she can understand the cutthroat nature of that kind of business.*

Interesting. So they were building their own little empire while still nominally subjects of yours?

"That really works?" Felix looks as if he doesn't know whether to be intrigued or terrified by the idea. "It... sounds amazing, but I doubt I'd have the stomach for it."

Having been born after all of these events, Felix has an easier time recounting them almost casually, as if it is just a story. Albeit a story of deepest import. "Funnily enough, they seceded first. Tamriel was invaded by a Daedric Prince two hundred years ago, you see. Of course we stopped him, but the Empire was in chaos. The Imperial family was wiped out, cities were razed, thousands killed. The Thalmor seized control in the aftermath and... the Empire had too many other problems to reclaim the province."

You could try a tandem jump, sometime--basically you strap yourself to someone who knows what they're doing and go for a ride.

*His explanation clears up some of her confusion.*

Ah, that's what changed. They aren't conquerors, merely scavengers, taking advantage of the damage done by a larger predator to grow fat.

*Won't she be fun at an embassy dinner?*

"Someone you're ready to trust absolutely, I expect," he notes, picturing it. His eyes are a little wide still - just trying to imagine it sends a little jolt through his stomach. "Isn't it too heavy then?"

He might be speaking neutrally, but he does laugh at her insight. "Oh, now I see why Stratos won't let you into Skyrim. He's afraid you'll be popular!"

The ride's a little shorter, but you can still get a good glide.

*She smirks.*

He doesn't know yet whether or not I can keep insights like that behind my teeth. In his place, I wouldn't want to be responsible for the embarrassing guest who kicked off the next losing war, either.

"I should mention it to Verity. She was terribly disappointed that we don't have flying spells."

See, Samus, he wouldn't say it, but the fact you understand the situation gets you an approving grin. "Or gave the Thalmor an excuse to demand more concessions."

You do that. Tell me what she says.

*His grin and observation are answered with a nod.*

While I'd like to see them try to get concessions out of me, I wouldn't enjoy being responsible for any hurt that came down on your people because of me.

"Certainly."

Felix rather thinks he'd like to see that, too. A pity he's likely to be stuck on Nexus duty if it ever comes about.

"I'm certainly grateful. It's good to have some friends who think ahead." He considers Samus thoughtfully. "You really are interested in helping, aren't you?"

*It'd make for a hell of a show. Maybe they'll have to get a couple cameras and a selfie-stick, for Felix's benefit. As for the latter thought...*

I know what prolonged conflict can do to a society, and everything I've heard about these Thalmor reminds me of other governments built on ideals of racial supremacy and rule through force. It's the kind of thing I oppose on basic principle.

*And when she opposes something, she tends to do so actively.*

They won't choose to coexist peacefully, not in the long term, and the way they'd behave if they won is unacceptable. That leaves only one option.

Felix gives a nod, matter-of-fact acceptance. "I doubt they're any threat to the people here. But for everyone else in Mundus, it's us or them." He spreads his hands, conjured feather and all. "And considering the creatures I'm happy to befriend..."

*She's from a very cosmopolitan time and place, Felix. That you make friends with your summons doesn't seem odd to her, just good manners. That fire-people aren't meant to be made friends with hasn't been mentioned to her yet.*

I've seen what people with their views do. I'd prefer not to see it again, and I don't mean not looking while they do it.

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