A roleplaying adventure spanning the entirety of the world of the Elder Scrolls universe. Tamriel takes place in 4E 181: Just six years after the end of the great war and the signing of the White Gold Concordat and 20 years before the Stormcloak Rebellion.

These are tough times, and the after effects of the war can be felt everywhere. With the destruction wrought upon Cyrodil and Morrowind, many a man and mer set their sights on more peaceful lands. Some travel seeking a new beginning and others travel seeking their fortunes. Whatever your reasons, you are amongst these travellers. It is up to you to carve your name into the history of this bold new frontier.

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Sojourn to the North
The scent of cold fills the air and the frosty dirt of the Old North Road crunches beneath my feet. Pilgrims from all walks of life travel all around me and, though the shouting of priests, the clang of pots and pans, and the creak of wagons echoes everywhere, each of the many groups of people feels the need to add their own voices to the clamor. The bleak landscape that surrounds me seems to have done little to dull the pilgrim's spirits and, though the threat of snow hangs in the air like a headsman's axe, they plod ever-onwards without complaint.

I can see rocky outcroppings all along the road and the occasional wooded area holds the promise of game, but these thoughts are driven from my mind as a rider passes by with the news that an Inn lays a few hours ahead. Though I don't relish the idea of spending unexpected Septims, with evening passing by quickly, a bed and a warm bath is certainly appealing and I can't help but smile at the prospect.

The news of the Inn seems to have cheered most everybody and the next few hours pass in a contended and fairly quiet manner, but the silence is broken as a commotion begins somewhere behind me. Suddenly, a group of mounted Legion Soldiers passes us by and races in the direction of the Inn. Murmurs begin to pass along the road as people gossip about what business they could have out in the middle of nowhere, but I catch little more than bits and pieces of the gossip.

As the sun begins to set I come to a pileup in the road where, in classic fashion, dozens of pilgrims are crowding around in an effort to see something. With everyone trying to see, my curiousity gets the better of me, and I can't help but try to catch a glimpse myself. As more pilgrims bunch up behind me, though, I find myself getting corraled through the mass of people. Before I know it I've been pushed near the front and I stumble out ahead of the crowd. My initial indignance at having been pushed around is quickly replaced by suprise, however, at the sight that greets me.

The charred and broken skeleton of, what I assume used to be the Inn, lies just ahead and, as I look, the full scale of the destruction slowly starts to dawn on me. Bodies lay everywhere. Few seem to have put up much of a struggle, yet they've been slaughtered all the same. The sheer carnage of the scene is staggering, but my attention is drawn away from the dead as I catch sight of some strange markings that seem to have been burnt into the ruins. Against my better judgement, I draw closer.

I can hear the surprised murmurs of the pilgrims behind me and, as I draw closer, I can see the Legion Soldiers from earlier examining the wreckage. I can't make out what the symbols say yet but I can see now that a brilliant blue banner has been struck from the top of the Inn. It seems to be the center of the Legion Soldier's attention and so, with them distracted, I take the opportunity to get even closer.

I'm no more than a few hundred yards from the ruins now but, before I can read the markings, a voice booms from behind me:

"You there! Stop where you are!"

I whince at my discovery and whirl around to get a better look at my confronter. A tall green-skinned Legion Soldier stands before me with quill and ink in-hand. He looks me up and down and jots something down before continuing:

"This establishment is off-limits! Official Imperial busineess only!"

He narrows his gaze and I can sense he sees the curiosity in my eyes. He lifts his quill to the paper and, with a good deal of authority in his voice, says:

"State your name and purpose!"
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Setting:
Homebrew (3.5)
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