Thanks to Kevin for a few ideas ;-) --- As Holm’ka stood looking at the Great Lord of War, still speechless with surprise, he noticed that the blood had stopped running down his arm. He looked at it and saw that the wound had closed. He turned his face back to the Great Lord to voice his thanks, but he was too slow. As he opened his mouth to speak, lights flared up all around him. He looked around in amazement. He was no longer in the caves below what remained of the Guardian Citadel; now he stood in a great throne room. Upon the throne was sat the figure he had seen earlier, the Great Lord of War. He briefly wondered who it was. He was told that when Werre died, they met their maker. Was this man Lord Sollar? Next to the throne stood another man, a High Elf by the look of him. He was briefly reminded of the scribe, Alduin, as he saw the man writing on scrolls. “Holm’ka Jeer Nomn,” said the figure. “Be welcome in my city of Geddon. I am Ebonarm, God of War. Thou hast come far and suffered much to be here. Dost thou, Holm’ka, swear to uphold the principles of the Dreadarmies and to obey its discipline?” “I do,” said Holm’ka with a mouth that he wasn’t sure could respond until after he had answered. “Then I name thee a Dreadknight. I give thee immortality. I give thee the power to open Windows. Go now to your fellows, for tonight, there will be celebration.” The High Elf came to stand beside the new Werre Dreadknight. Facing the Great Lord, he saluted, fist over heart. Holm’ka thought it best to do the same and raised his own fist to his heart, still amazed that his wound had been healed. He had thought that no healing magic would work on his magicka proof flesh! As he was thinking this, he saw Ebonarm nod at the two of them, and the High Elf ushered him out of the chamber and they walked down some stairs together. “Welcome, Holm’ka,” said the High Elf. “I am the Keeper of the Chronicles here in Geddon, and one of my tasks is to welcome you. You probably know little about the Dreadarmies.” He took Holm’ka’s shake of the head as a negative. “Then allow me to explain. Shortly after the people of Tamriel learned to write, a prophecy, called the Elder Scroll was written. This told the people many things, but it is but one of the things that must concern you. It was foretold, that in the future, the Daedra Hordes would come and attempt to destroy the world of Tamriel, making it as dark and forbidding as their own world of Oblivion. “The people prayed to the Greater Gods and asked for help. The Great Lord – never speak his name, by the way, for it is blasphemy – reluctantly took the task upon himself. I say reluctantly for he is, in fact, a peace loving God. He formed the Dreadarmies and built Geddon and the Labyrinth surrounding it. “Your rank is Dreadknight. This is where all start their life in the Dreadarmies. As a Dreadknight, you will belong to a Fist, led by a Dreadmaster. Finally, above the Dreadmasters is the Dreadlord who has two roles. The first is to lead the Dreadarmies in war. The other is to recruit heroes to the cause. Only about a third of the Dreadarmies have joined in the way that you have, by death and rebirth – most are recruited and take the Labyrinth test. Now, I must introduce you to your Dreadmaster.” The Keeper of the Chronicles opened a door and Holm’ka walked out into a strange sun. Somehow, it felt different to the one he was used to. “You are no longer in Tamriel,” said the Keeper to him. “Geddon is in a different dimension. Just as Oblivion is separate from Tamriel, but still a part of it, so too is Geddon.” Holm’ka looked around and his eyes were drawn to a statue in the centre of the square. It was of a figure wearing Daedric armour and holding a Dai-katana. At first, he thought that it was the Warmage, Balefire, but then remembered that he used a staff, not a great sword. Then he recognised the man for who he was. This was the man who had taken his place in the battle with the Denigroth to help Elfiran. He had never learned his name. The Keeper spoke up again: “This is Tenaka Khan, the thirteenth Dreadlord.” Another voice came out from behind the two of them: “And long may he live.” Holm’ka spun around quickly and could not believe his eyes when he saw who had spoken. This man’s face was one from legends. “Welcome, Holm’ka. Welcome to my Fist. I am Dreadmaster Sollar.”