( Again, RP is paused :D )

(So let's do the fight in about 5 hours let's say :) when everyones home)

Veyd Sahvoz

(So let's do the fight in about 5 hours let's say :) when everyones home)

(yeah) 

( I consider a fight between two different people. This will be an invasion. But yes, when everyone is available, the Invasion will soon begin. Here's an ominous teaser! )

Across the seas from Summerset Isle, at the port city of Anvil, there is a great bluster of militry movement. Hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of soldiers are gathering there and outside the city, boarding massive ships bigger than any known Man o' War, with not only mechanical implement sbeing used to construct them, but magical ones as well. (They are the size of modern cruise liners)

But, while they may be intimidating, they are not the most terrifying of the ships. Ten massive warships, known as dreadnaughts, are fitted with a total of 170 guns each and carrying over one thousand sailors, these monsters are made for one thing only: The utter destruction of the last of the Dominion.

They are created through advanced engineering and magical enchantments, as not even Imperial engineers can create ships this size alone. (Search up the HMS Duke of Kent) They are not the only ships, as their are over two-hundred Goliath-class invasion ships ready to land the armies of the First Order, undercover of a fleet numbering in the thousands.

This was happening two weeks ago, and what Qorian and his men saw was the Armada making ready to move in, at most, the next two days. There is a storm coming, one the Immortals and their allies will have to use every last ounce of their strength to fight off...

"If I can get to Orsinium, I'll be able to get some reinforcments. As well as these "guns"." 

(Guys pause i gotta go back to school :(   )

YolGoraagSingh

"If I can get to Orsinium, I'll be able to get some reinforcments. As well as these "guns"." 

Qorian then stops shouting out orders, turning to Makor with a blank look, before letting his frustration and anger explode on the idiotic Dragonborn.

"Are you INSANE, Dragonborn?! Do you not see what is left of the near two hundred ships we had sent out in the docks?! Do you not see the HUNDREDS of dead and THOUSANDS of wounded we managed to bring back with us?! I saw what may very well be the end of EVERYTHING!"

"I saw thousands of ships, and at LEAST tens of thousands of soldiers! Their main ships are larger and more powerful then ANYTHING ever seen in all of Tamriel! Their landing ships alone are larger than the Man o' War we have left, what about their dreadnaughts?! THey have ten monster-ships with HUNDREDS of guns per ship! If you try to go to Orcinium, death will await you!"

"Even then, if you manage to get past all these ships, there is... something else. A ship made of somekind of magic, yet does not look it. It was constructed with wood and iron, of course but... It could breathe actual fire. And its almost as fast as a cutter, yet it holds at least two-hundred guns on four lower decks and the top deck. It's bigger than even the dreadnoughts... I have no doubt its the personal flagship of Emperor Tiberius, and inscribed on its side was the FOS Wrath of Talos."

Up away from the chaos and yelling as the soldiers prepped for the upcoming attack, Falin knelt on the quiet hillside. Her eyes were closed as she murmurred in Bosmeris, trying to steady her thoughts and prepare for what could easily be her final battle. "<Forgive me, Champions of the Hunt, for once again denying you the peace you desire. You've doubtlessly seen the bloodshed these last few years. It's going to take everything to potentially bring an end to this.>"

As he is looking around the fort, sending out officers to manage various tasks, he turns around to see, looking through his telescope as the sun glints off his armor, and the breeze whips his hair behind him. He then turns around once more, before nodding to his officers for them to take command, leaving another in charge as he goes to the Hill of Prayer, not knowing that Falin is there.

Her bow and quiver lay in the grass to her left, her dagger on her right. A small bone dish sat in front of her, ribbons of smoke wafting up from it. The smell of the dishes smoldering contents strong and unusual for any not accustomed to Bosmeri practices.