TESA:Redguard/Cinematics

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Here you'll find the 5 cinematics of Redguard, with their transcript.

Introduction

It is late in the Second Era, a time of war as the Empire of Tiber Septim sweeps through the Kingdoms of Tamriel in a glorious bid for conquest. Septim is opposed on all sides, but never more fiercely than by Hammerfell the ancestral home of the Redguards. The High King of Hammerfell, Thassad II resists the Imperial invasions even as he sees other kingdoms crumble until, at last, without warning and suprisingly devoid of court treachery, death takes its full measure. With its High King dead, Hammerfell is crippled plunging into a bloody civil war between the Crowns, fighting for their homeland's continued sovereignty, and the Forebears, who have finally accepted the Emperor's rule. The Crowns, led by the heir to Thassad, Prince A'tor, are continually victorious, spilling the blood of the Forebears across Hammerfell's sands. From his seat of power in the port City of Stros M'kai, Prince A'tor slowly reunites his father's unraveled kingdom. Feeling their impending defeat, the Forebears sign a pact with the Emperor, allowing him to bring his armies in, crush the Crowns, and rule Hammerfell as his own. Tiber Septim's armies prove too much for the proud Redguard Crowns. Tiber Septim sends his best commander, Lord Richton, to Stros M'kai to close the grip on Prince A'tor and the Crowns. The Prince rallies his forces for one last stand. Knowing that Hammerfell's sovereignty is at stake, the Crown forces match the might of the Empire meeting them in the Harbor of Stros M'kai for the final battle. The fighting is fierce. Lord Richton, having seen the Prince's victories at sea before, decides to bring his last resource to the fore...

...the dragon, Nafalilargus, proud Jewel of the Imperial Crown. A'tor commands his archers to ready their weapons...

...but is struck down himself by Richton's assassin, felled by an arrow whose poison spreads too fast. A'tor's wizard attempts to save the Prince but the Dragon ends his magic, and the Crown's hope for victory, in a single, fiery breath. Having conquered the Crowns, the Emperor's forces claim rule over all of Hammerfell. Imperial garrisons are stationed at every city and Richton himself is named Provisional Governor of Stros M'kai. Months pass. The Redguards of Hammerfell both Crown and Forebear learn to live under the new Imperial rule and Tiber Septim extends his reach into the rest of Tamriel. It is only through fate that any of this will come to concern our hero, Cyrus, A Redguard who long ago left Hammerfell to wander the borderlands of the Empire.

* * *

S'rathra: Smile, Cyrus. Here's the excuse you've been looking for.

Cyrus: Let's make this short, S'rathra. I've got work to do.

S'rathra: All you mercenaries are the same. Sit.

Cyrus: I leave with Duadeen's men in an hour.

S'rathra: Ruffians in the night, heavy with Imperial coin, after some poor farmer who owes the kingdom his wife.

Cyrus: You should know, you got me the job.

S'rathra: And he taketh away. For you." He then passes a letter to Cyrus. "S'rathra knows you've said you'd never return to Hammerfall, but this seemed important.

Cyrus: The seal is broken.

S'rathra: S'rathra was concerned.

Cyrus: Yeah, I bet you were.

S'rathra: Don't worry about Duadeen. S'rathra fix. S'rathra fix anything.

Cyrus: ...Iszara...

S'rathra: Your sister's disappearance draws a shudder.

Cyrus: I need a ship!

S'rathra: The port is full of them and S'rathra's name goes far towards the price of passage.

Cyrus: Money, too.

S'rathra: Keep Duadeen's retainer. It's a family affair, after all. Tell s'rathra, why did you never mention your sister before?

Cyrus: We haven't spoken in ten years. There was trouble.

S'rathra: What kind?

Cyrus: I killed her husband...

* * *

Pirate 1: "Get below" is what the Pirate said to the wet-earred knave before him.

Pirate 2: The Restless League is claiming this cargo.

Pirate 1: Said the other with cruel, cruel clarity.

Cyrus: It probably wouldn't make any difference if I told you I had no time for this.

Pirate 2: This is about Redguard honor, boy. Stand aside.

Pirate 1: Yes, a doubtful notion it is, piracy and politics, but there you have it.

Cyrus: Never been much for politics. In my days, piracy was honest work.

Pirate 2: Don't be a hero, boy.

Cyrus: Where's the money in that?

Pirate 1: And verily they were impressed by his bravery, for a scant few seconds.

Cyrus finds Iszara's journal

Cyrus: Where is she?

Basil: I don't know. I was hoping this would tell me.

Cyrus: What do you know then?

Basil: When Iszara joined the League she changed its face. She gained us the attention of Prince A'Tor. Before Iszara, we were a wild pack of nationalists with sharp swords and enthusiastic schemes. Our wanting reputation kept A'Tor from announcing an open affiliation, but we worked for him in secret removing Forebear traitors on the mainland and killing Imperial emissaries too long lingering at our borders.

Cyrus: And then the war came all the way to Stros M'Kai.

Basil: Where A'Tor should've won. He had Hunding's fire with him that day, he would turn back Tiber Septim from Hammerfell forever! The League wasn't invited to join in the battle for discretion's sake and we were forced to watch from afar! And at that battle, we saw the face of the New Empire. They sent a dragon, and no man could stand against it.

Cyrus: It killed Prince A'Tor?

Basil: A'Tor challenged the beast, but he never reached it. A poisoned arrow from Richton's henchman felled the Prince just as he rushed headlong to meet the Dragon.

Cyrus: What does this have to do with Iszara?

Basil: As A'Tor lay dying, his Wizard, the Archmage Voa, tried desperately to save his life. The Dragon was upon them and there was little time. Voa gathered A'Tor's lifeforce into a soulgem just as the fire rained down. The Battle of Stros M'Kai ended then, and Iszara's trouble began.

Cyrus: Get to it.

Basil: In another story altogether, the League got its hands on the soulgem, reservoir of the Prince's power, and the narrative of wishful thinking began. The Restless League now had the means to bring back the Prince! We could restore Prince A'Tor from the soulgem, and under his banner fight the Battle of Stros M'kai again--

Basil: --This time rightly at his side! And then that little Witch took it.

Cyrus: Iszara took the soulgem?

Basil: And with it the fate of Stros M'Kai. The Prince's spirit within that gem was the spark to ignite a revolution. When Iszara stole the soulgem she stole from us that fire.

Cyrus: Where would she have gone with it?

Basil: If we knew that, you wouldn't be here right now. The only reason we let you in the Hideout was to find out what you know... Or what this could tell us. We both seem to still be looking for our answers yet.

Cyrus: I'll be back if you're lying.

Cyrus: And I'll spare no one then.

Basil: Find the soulgem and you'll find Iszara.

Cyrus: Take me back to Stros M'Kai.

Basil: This is bigger than your sister, Redguard. Remember that. This is about the kingdom! This is about Hammerfell now.

Basil: Damn fool.

Vander: Maybe just the damn fool we need to find Iszara and the soulgem.

Basil: Maybe so...

Cyrus finds Iszara

Iszara: Where am I?

Cyrus: You are safe, Iszara.

Iszara: Is it you?

Cyrus: I'm afraid so.

Iszara: Where is N'Gasta? Is he dead? Where is the soulgem?

Cyrus: Iszara, I...

Iszara: I... I have to get back to the League.

Cyrus: But...

Iszara: What have I done?

Cyrus: Iszara!

Iszara: Are you coming or not?

* * *

Yaeli: Caught up already, have you?

Cyrus: Shut up.

Cyrus: Iszara...

Iszara: Do you plan to stay this time?

Cyrus: Yes.

Iszara: Because you could run again.

Cyrus: Yes.

Iszara: It wasn't your war then.

Cyrus: No.

Iszara: And it's not your war now.

Cyrus: No.

Iszara: And if you expect anything more than that right now, you can go to hell.

* * *

Basil: That's just great, Iszara.

Iszara: Don't give me that. Even if we still had the soulgem we'd be in the same place. You'd still be hiding in this cave and Richton still be in our Prince's Palace.

Basil: There's a difference between hiding from the Empire and biding our time.

Iszara: We're losing time.

Basil: You lost the soulgem! What now, girl?

Cyrus: I know where it is.

Basil: Yeah, huh?

Cyrus: Richton has the soulgem.

Basil: You've seen him with it?

Cyrus: I gave it to him.

Iszara: How could...

Cyrus: I didn't know what it was. The Necromancer had it fashioned into an amulet, a gift for the Governor. He needed someone to deliver it. I did, thinking I could somehow get to you.

Basil: My heart just broke. Yours, too?

Vander: A million pieces.

Cyrus: We'll just have to get it back.

Basil: We'll be killed as soon as we step onto the shore.

Iszara: Cyrus is right.

Cyrus: What's the point of being condemned as rebels in arms if we never take up those arms against the Empire?

Basil: We?

Cyrus: I tell you, Basil, and hear me well. Whether you like it or not, I'm in this now, until the end.

Basil: I'm not sending my men to Stros M'Kai, soulgem lost or no. Hammerfell needs us alive.

Cyrus: What good are you, Basil, if you do nothing? Are you afraid of shedding a little blood?

Iszara: Here it comes.

Basil: You speak grandly of spending blood that is not your own, Cyrus. As for the League, we do what we can, even in hiding. We're pirates, man, the purest form of sedition- To thieve, snare, slit the throat unbeheld- The ever-resident thorns, keeping all sides at guard, alleviating every inertia with our own. Our raids force the Emperor to garrison Stros M'Kai, and tie up ships and men here. And our piracy hits Richton where it counts... In his gold purse. If he doesn't squeeze this province for the profits the Emperor demands, his head will roll.

Cyrus: Don't forget the Dragon, Basil. Because that's the thing you really fear, isn't it? The Battle of Stros M'Kai hung in the balance until the Governor called in his Dragon, right?

Basil: Well, there's that, too.

Cyrus: I'll take care of the Dragon.

Basil: Big man.

Vander: Can I feel your muscle?

Iszara: Richton probably has the Dragon guarding the soulgem in the Palace Treasure Vaults.

Cyrus: Where are they?

Iszara: You can enter them through the Catacombs, but you need the key.

Cyrus: Where'd you get this?

Basil: The Prince and your sister were good friends, Cyrus. The Treasure Vaults were to be her jewelry chambers.

Cyrus: I've had enough of your chatter, Basil! I'm going to find the gem and then I'll find somebody who'll bring the Prince back! When that's done, should I tell him to expect your aid or not?

Basil: I expect you'll have just as much success as your sister had, Cyrus. You can hardly do any worse.

Iszara: I'll go with you.

Cyrus: You're too weak, still. Look, I've done well enough to this point. I can finish this. For you.

Iszara: For Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Fine. For Hammerfell.

Cyrus: When I have the soulgem and somebody that can break its magic-

Cyrus: What should I do?

Iszara: Send us the signal and we'll meet at the Temple. Brother Nidal has A'Tor's body hidden there.

Basil: Redguard.

Basil: When you have the Prince, you have his men.

* * *

Iszara: I should help you.

Cyrus: You're too well known on the island. The Imperials --

Iszara: I could handle them.

Cyrus: And you will. After the temple. I won't fail you. Not like last time.

Iszara: Look. Let's get this straight. You murdered my husband, and ran away. On one day you robbed me of the two people I loved and trusted most in all the world. Hakan was not much of a husband, but you were not, and are not, fit to judge him. Nor am I fit to judge you. You're guilty of gods-know how many crimes and cruelties, not the least of all what you've done to your own flesh and blood. But... Whatever harm you've done to me, I forgive you. You are my blood, and younger brother, and I can do no less. But if you trifle with the affairs of the League, and with the fate of Hammerfell and her people, then run away like you did last time, I will find you. You are a charming, vain, self-absorbed child, never thinking of anyone but yourself and your own profit... But if you take up this thing, you will see it through to the end... Or I will kill you.

Cyrus: I am going to find that soulgem. And I will get your Prince back. Iszara. I know what you think of me. I'm not proud of what I've been. But something... Is happening here, and I... I don't really know what I'm saying, but...

Iszara: Then don't say anything. I'm not interested in your words, Cyrus. It's enough to have you here. I just have to believe you'll stay when I need you.

Cyrus: I will finish this.

Reanimation of A'Tor

Saban: Tro dura-hi. Go Tuwhacca. Nogo Tuwhacca.

Saban: Shami. Shami. Go kukri.

Saban: Nogoh. Ngaro. Tuktura. Nogoh. Shami! Shami! Shami! Shami!

Saban: Go kukri nogoh! Ngaro! Tuktura!

Saban: Nogo go Tuwhacca.

Saban: Nogo Tuwhacca. Shami. Beteki matana, Sura.

Coyle: The soulgem.

Saban: Tro dura-hi!

Coyle: The ring.

Saban: To-trang no mo.

Saban: To-trang no mo.

Basil: What is it? Did it work?

Saban: A'Tor no mangai, Sura.

Coyle: I'm sorry, Cyrus.

Basil: What's wrong? What happened? What did you do wrong!?

Coyle: It didn't work.

Basil: What now, Redguard!?

Cyrus: The sword...

Saban: Uta-teni.

Cyrus: ...His soul is in the sword.

Coyle: Mother...?

Cyrus: How did this happen?

Saban: A'Tor no mangai, Sura.

Coyle: She doesn't know. It was --

Basil: Who cares how it happened? It's over, Cyrus. We can't follow a sword. You've failed us. We are through.

Cyrus: Is this how you will honor your Prince then? Cautious I've thought you, Basil, but never before a coward.

Cyrus: We all have waited for the Prince's return. Now that he has returned, you walk away.

Cyrus: The form is different, true, but his spirit is here. Here. And isn't his spirit the truest part of him? Did it occur that maybe he chose this shape and symbol as the sign of his intentions?

Cyrus: Aye, perhaps that soul, in hated delay, snared helpless in a jewel while his men hid and shirked their duties, his duty, perhaps that soul honed itself to this and by no mistake comes to you now, in no more fine and final form as this, a sword. You say you cannot follow a sword? Well, I say that you have strayed from your own too long! Why are you here but to FIGHT? Your Prince has shown you the manner of his purest mettle, AYE! In metal itself! And this true unerring razor's message is clear beyond words, for now's not the time for words, but for brave hands, bright swords, and blood. Aye, boys, it's about blood now! Too long frozen in your veins! And you'd rather yourself be rigid than follow me. Well, if you won't, then shamefully know that your Prince will! For his blood be solid, too, but straightened to steel and tempered in death! Rise alike as he! As swords! As we are Crowns alike as he!

Cyrus: The Prince is dead! Long live the Prince!

Basil: What shall we do?

Cyrus: You shall secure the harbor, we can't have any more of them coming in. Once that's done, take it to the Imperials still left on the water. When they see the harbor is ours again they will make sail for the mainland.

Iszara: What about you?

Cyrus: I'm going into the Palace to kill the Governor.

Iszara: You can't do that alone. How will you get in?

Cyrus: I won't be alone. And the Prince shares secrets.

Coyle: Let me come with you, Cyrus.

Iszara: And you aren't going without me.

Cyrus: No, you help Basil and the League take the Harbor. If we storm the Palace Richton and his men will dig in. It has to end now. With the League running amok in the water, the Palace will be near empty as they try and stop you. I'll reach Richton easy and remind him whose seat is the throne of Stros M'Kai.

Iszara: They will hear of this in the rest of Hammerfell.

Cyrus: Then let's make sure it's loud.

Conclusion

Richton: How remarkable. I may well be the first Imperial Admiral to surrender at this altitude.

Cyrus: No surrender, Governor. You just die on your feet.

Richton: The Rules of Engagement state quite clearly that a losing party may yield to his opponent on the field of battle, and that the victor may, within honorable reason, determine his ransom.

Cyrus: Remind me in Hell.

Richton: But where's the money in that?

Richton: Or Redguard honor? I know a Swordsman like you, Redguard, can't kill an unarmed man...

Richton: And as a gentleman, I place myself under your protection. And as a Swordsman of no little accomplishment, I congratulate you on your mastery of the longsword. And I congratulate you also on your small victory here.

Richton: I have failed my Emperor, and may regret surviving to face his displeasure... But...

Cyrus: Agh.

Richton: Hahaha!

Dram: Drop the weapon.

Cyrus: What were those Rules of Engagement again?

Richton: I'm sorry, Redguard. The Rules of Engagement govern the affairs of gentlemen. But you, a Rebel in arms, a traitor to the Emperor, and a threat to the Emperor's peace... All you have earned is summary execution.

Dram: You die now, Redguard.

Cyrus: Do it, then, because that'll be the easy part. But look down there, Richton. Now there's an army that's tasted victory, and one you'll never defeat again.

Richton: No more words.

Cyrus: Richton, it's time you saw that Redguard fire you've heard so much about. You never did kill the Prince, Richton.

Cyrus: He lives!

Richton: Gods.

* * *

Crown Guard: The Old Quarter should be restored in time for the celebrations, milady.

Iszara: Make sure Captain Basil has all the men he needs.

Cyrus: You know I have to leave soon.

Iszara: Can't you at least stay for the celebrations? They are because of you, after all. Baron Volag came out of hiding to retake Sentinel after he heard of our own uprising. Both he and the Emperor are coming here to work out the treaties.

Cyrus: The Emperor is coming here?

Iszara: We've had two bloody wars in as many years, Cyrus. An accord must be struck with the Empire, but at least now we will be respected allies, if all goes well, instead of exploited subjects. A'Tor guides me in this.

Cyrus: I've never been much for politics.

Iszara: I forgive you anyway. I can do no less.