We must travel to the ruins of Sancre Tor, the once majestic Colovian city of the Jerall Mountains founded by the great liberator Alessia herself. At its height it served as the axis of the Alessian Order where many a Cyrodillic emperor chose to be buried, yet now it is all but hollow ruins.

It is said that the great city was destroyed when its very walls began to tremble in terror at what arose in the catacombs beneath, and it is here in those same crypts where Sai Sahan chose to hide the Amulet of Kings.

The dripping ivy-clad walls of her catacombs still stand strong however, mists swirl underfoot and sudden chill winds rise and fall as if the door to the underworld has been left ajar. Yet the air is stifling, heavy with foreboding and fear. Behind every locked door, in every dank charnel house, amongst every overgrown gravestone, can be heard footsteps creaking, groaning, scuttling, and the clanking of chains.

But worse of all, the insubstantial spectre of that damnable necromancer Mannimarco dogs our every step, raising the buried dead of this once great city to arms against us.

S.K