Welcome to the Astral Plains

It's been three weeks since the end of the Oblivion Crisis. No longer needing his services, the Champion of Cyrodiil released him from his contract and they parted.

Last anyone heard, the Champion of Cyrodiil was last seen entering a strange Oblivion gate located on the Niben Bay, leading to the realms of Sheogorath, Daedric Prince of Madness.

Holt himself was soon to be taken through another strange realm. As he was sitting on a bench, near the Great Oak in the city of Chorrol, a strange robed man approached. The robes were unlike anything Holt had ever seen. It was different than what the mages often wore. It was certainly more ornate.

On the chest were two silver dragons mirroring the others pose and mouths open, showing their teeth. The lower flaps, sleeves and the hood were adorned with strange runes in dark blue. The shoulders extended nearly level with the top of the head.

"Greetings to you, William." spoke the robed man. His face was concealed completely, revealing only the man's blue eyes.

William? Holt had never told anyone his first name.

"Who are you?" Holt responded, standing up immediately, back facing the Great Oak and front facing the man. He quickly looked around. There was no one else around. No citizen, no guard, not even a beggar. Just the two of them.

"I am a member of the Astral Order. We have been watching you from some time."

"What do you want?"

"I come bearing a proposition for you, William. It comes from the high ranking members of my order."

Holt was silent, staring at the robed figure.

"Would you like to hear it?"

Holt's first thought was to say no and just move on. However, his curiosity was piqued and it overpowered his better judgement.

"What is it?"

The robed man responded by reaching out and grasping Holt's shoulder immediately. Holt yelped in surprise, grabbing the man's hand to try and get it off. Instantly, he felt faint and fatigued. He fell to his knees, still holding onto the man's hand. The fatigue was getting heavier, and he had trouble concentrating. In less than a minute, he blacked out.

Holt felt himself lying on something cold and hard. He slowly opened his eyes and looked down to see himself pressed against stone. Blinking, he struggled to remember what happened. A robed figure, a hand and immense exhaustion.

"Ah...he's awake..."

A voice? Holt struggled to push himself up, still feeling weak. He looked up and could see the robed man standing over him. He wasn't alone. Behind him, there were three more identical robed figures, all watching.

Holt finally managed to stand up on his own, hand grasping the hilt of his sword.

"Stay your blade." said one of the robed figures. One of them came up, closer to Holt while the other one backed off.

Holt kept his hand on the pommel, but did not pull it out.

"What the fuck was that about?!" He growled, breathing heavy.

The man's eyes twinkled a bit. "I apologize for that. You have no magical abilities so the teleportation to our realm was rough on you."

"Your realm?" Holt raised an eyebrow. He looked around. He wasn't in Chorrol anymore. All around him was empty blue space. With the men, he was standing on some sort of floating stone platform. Behind them, he saw a large ball slowly pass by. When he took a closer look, he was shocked to see that it resembled a planet. He could see swirling clouds that moved in one direction. It looked like a gas giant.

"What the...?"

"William Holt, welcome to the Astral Plains."