Chapter 2: Vilverin
The world was nothing but fuzzy warmness. It was as if the world had been lightly baked and wrapped in the embrace of a large bear pelt. Then the pelt split a hundred different times and morphed into a hundred butterflies. Their overheated wings creating little torrents of weak warmth in all directions. Flitting close and then far, the butterflies morphed into birds. The warmth grew more powerful, closer, penetrating.
Clare Sadlygrove's six eyes slowly opened. Piercing light assaulted her immediately and she winced at the sun's onslaught. She closed her eyes again, trying to retreat back to the soothing darkness, but the rays of light could no longer be ignored. Clare tried to take a few controlled breaths, before creaking her eyes open once again.
She was not in some cold, dingy cell in the Imperial Prison, but outside. Her head was no longer killing her but her throat was sore beyond belief. She was wrapped in a bedroll, as much as her size would allow. And the remains of a tent had been draped over her to continue where the bedroll left off.
Slowly, the Scorpion Daedra got up, her makeshift coverings still clinging to her body. Clare had to shake them away. She looked around. The ground was grassy, there was a fire dying down in a large fire pit surrounded by stones. She looked to be in a small camp settled right next to the faded white stone of Ayleid ruins. Off in the distance she could see the walls of the Imperial City.
She idly massaged her throat with her hand, remembering what had happened. She had been shot in the throat.
"Am I dead?" Clare wondered aloud. But there was no one there to answer her.
She heard movement, looked in the direction from which it was coming from. Footsteps muffled by grass from behind the assemblage of Ayleid ruins to her right.
"N-no." An emaciated human walked into view. He clutched a bottle of ale in one hand. "I know it's probably a huuuuggee inconvenience, but you're still a-among the living."
"Jakrelkill Valbanill."
"So, you remember me, eh? There aren't many who do. And others I wish wouldn't."
What happened?" Clare asked.
"Don't you remember? Boy, and I thought my memory was bad." Valbanill took a swig of the ale. "You got shot in the throat by an arrow."
"I remember that part. How are we still here? Alive?"
"I took care of bidness." Valbanill hiccupped.
"I saw you fall. You took two in the chest, if I recall."
"SO what? I'm tougher than I look. Don't underestimate the power of a Breton that wants to live to drink another day."
"I didn't know Bretons were known for their drinking habits."
"This one is." Valbanill downed another mouthful of ale.
"You killed the bandits?"
"Do you see anyone else here?" Valbanill finished the ale and tossed the bottle aside.
"But… then. Why… how… am I still alive? What did you do to me?"
"I healed you."
"Oh…" Clare wasn't sure what to say, several questions assaulted her mind. How had Valbanill killed the bandits? How had he survived the first salvo of arrows that had struck him? How had he been able to bring her back from the edge of death? Why had he bothered to?
In the daylight, Clare had gotten her clearest look at the human yet. There was a long, vertical scar running down the left side of his face. His short brown hair was showing signs of a receding hairline. There were dark bags around his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in weeks. Wrist irons were still shackled to him. His tattered prison garb was now reinforced by several leather belts wrung tightly to his slender form.
"Thank you, for saving me."
"It's nothing. I know how to play the good guy, every once in a while."
"It's not nothing." Clare went up and held out her hand. "I'm sorry. For the things I said back in the sewer."
Valbanill seized it and shook with a limp grip and a laugh. "Y-you're worried about that? No problem. That's not the first time I've been called such things. And i-it won't be the last."
Clare's stomach started to rumble. Valbanill chucked.
"You don't happen to have anything to eat?" Clare asked. "You were drinking… where'd you get—"
"The bandits had some food and drink lying around their camp." Valbanill walked over to a crate and chucked her an apple.
Clare ate the fruit voraciously.
"I doubt o-one little apple is gonna sate a big girl like you." Valbanill opened the crate. Clare scuttled over to find it filled with apples. As soon as she saw them, the Scorpion Daedra started stuffing her face with gusto.
Valbanill backed up and let Clare eat. He opened up another ale from the bandit camp and watched as the Scorpion Daedra ate. As Scorpion Daedra went, Clare looked to be just slightly smaller than the typical size—though she was still an incredibly imposing figure, especially when compared to a wispy old Breton. The skin on the upper, human portion of her body was light blue while the shell of her lower scorpion half was black. Her short hair was black and the irises of her six eyes were green with black sclera. A rather odd color combination compared to most of the folk of Tamriel, but not atypical of her race.
He finished his ale and fetched a cheese wedge from the other assortment of foods he scavenged around from the camp. Clare had finished a good portion of the apples when she looked over to the Breton and noticed him holding the diary delight.
"Cheese!" The Scorpion Daedra quickly scuttled over towards the Breton with newfound vigor. "I love cheese! Can I have some?"
Valbanill groaned. "Fine, here. Take it." He snapped off a small piece for himself before forking over the entire wedge.
Clare gnawed at the offering with intense pleasure.
"If I knew you liked cheese so much, I would have eaten that before you woke up," Valbanill admitted.
The pair continued to drain the small camp of its food and drink. Clare's single-minded focus on fending off her hunger discouraged much conversation. Valbanill finally spoke up again once they were finished.
"You still going to deliver the Amulet of Kings?"
Clare froze. "I forgot the amulet! Where is it?"
"Relax, I have it right here." Valbanill pulled the amulet from one of his pockets. He handed it over to the Scorpion Daedra. "The Emperor wanted you to have it. I don't give a damn what really happens with it. J-just thought I might hold onto it while you were out."
"Uh, thanks." Clare noticed that the tattered remains of her prison garb was not going to be able to hold the amulet. "Not, really anywhere to hold it…" She fumbled around at her shredded pockets, finding one that didn't have quite such a big hole. She put in the amulet, hoping it wouldn't fall through. Instead, the weight of the amulet caused the remains of her shirt to sag and instantly shred.
"Ack!" Clare looked down at the ground, at the tatters of her clothing. Then, she looked up and saw that Valbanill was staring intently at her chest. Clare felt her cheeks flare up and her stomach churn for an instant. She hissed and outstretched her claws in an aggressive posture as she covered her breasts with her hands.
"Hey, easy! I meant no offense." Valbanill held up his hands near his shoulders as a sign of surrender. "Take it easy, scorpion girl."
"Watch yourself, you little perv. I'll slice you in two."
"No need to get so a-angry," Valbanill was defensive. "I'm a heterosexual male. I'm predisposed to like breasts. I-t's not my fault you're topless. And if I stare then you should take it as a compliment."
Clare let loose a small little sigh. "Pardon me if I don't take the compliment gracefully," her tone oozed sarcasm.
"Yeah, whatever. Just don't blame me for shit that's not my fault."
"Any clothes around here?"
"Not much."
"What about the bandits?"
"They're in bad shape."
"Better than nothing."
"I think nothing would be better."
Clare gave Valbanill a look. "Just take me to the corpses."
"Don't usually hear that everyday but okay."
The Scorpion Daedra followed the Breton past the edges of the Ayleid ruins. She found that the bandit bodies had been piled up near the edge of the water.
Upon close inspection, Clare saw that the bodies had been badly mangled. Bones had been broken; chunks of flesh and armor had been cut off. It was a horrid gore fest.
"They must have put up one hell of a fight," Clare said as she worked her way around the bodies, trying to find anything useable.
"Indeed. They certainly tried. But they aren't so tough when not pulling off sneak attacks."
There was nothing extraordinary about the bandits. Their armors were either fur or leather, and their weapons were all heavily worn out and made of iron. And it didn't help that most of the bodies were male. Clare had it bad enough trying to find something that fit, let alone something that wasn't shredded any worse than her prison clothes that had fallen apart. And it wasn't as if she needed all that much either. She only needed to cover the human portion of her body. Grieves and pants were things she was never able to wear anyway.
"What did you do to these guys? You didn't do this with that rusty old dagger you picked up."
"I got hold of one of theirs, and it all spiraled up from that. I was really pissed off."
"I can see. There's like nothing I can use."
"You could always just go topless."
"I think you might like that too much." Clare scrounged up a few belts from the bodies and buckled them tightly across her chest. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"Wow, that actually looks better than going topless."
"You just don't stop, do you?" Clare leaned her human half forward, bending at the hips where her human and scorpion parts connected. She pulled her claws up to her and cut off the irons still clamped to her wrists.
"N-not till I win. Or I die. And I'm not dead yet." Valbanill walked back towards the ruins, Clare following.
"So, what are you going to do now?" Clare asked the Breton.
Valbanill picked up the amulet and tossed it over to Clare. She looped the necklace between her belts and tied it off. The amulet hung from her chest like a gaudy war medal.
"Still gonna go deliver that thing?"
"Yeah, the Emperor entrusted it to me. I don't have a choice. Don't know why he would entrust this to me though…"
"I saw how the Blades fight. Ol' Septim probably f-figured you had a better chance of delivering the amulet in one piece."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I don't rightly know. I wasn't planning on ever leaving the Imperial Prison alive. Probably gonna go find me something to drink, I guess."
Clare bit at her lower lip with her left fang for a moment. Her eyes darting around from Valbanill to some butterflies fluttering about near the campsite. "I… don't know where I am."
"Vilverin," Valbanill answered simply.
"Huh?"
"That's the name of these ruins."
"Been here before?"
"No. Heard of it once though."
"So… um. I don't know where to go… I've never been to the Imperial City before they hauled me off to the prison. I've never been this far east before. I don't know how to get to Chorrol."
"Want me to tag along, huh?" Valbanill raised an eyebrow.
"I know I released you from my service when we left the sewers. But… I would appreciate some help."
Valbanill shrugged. "Sure, why not? Probably a lot of booze between here and Chorrol that I can pick up. Might as well."
"Thanks." Clare allowed herself a smile. Things were going to be miserable if she had to figure everything out on her own. And Valbanill didn't seem all that bad. He had gone out of his way to save her life, and he could fight. She could work with that.
Clare looked over in the direction of the Imperial City. Saw White-Gold Tower in the distance.
"Right. So, where should we go?"
"Not in the direction of the Imperial City." Valbanill followed Clare's gaze. "You would not be popular there on a good day and we're both newly escaped convicts. I figure it'll take a day or two for that Blade to make good on his promise and have us pardoned. I d-don't wanna get shoved back in that prison and have to break out all over again. Doubt we'd be lucky enough to be put in another cell with a secret escape route."
"Right," Clare agreed. "So—"
"We go around. But I was thinking we check out Vilverin first."
"The ruins? What for? I doubt the Ayleids have anything useful left to plunder."
"No. But the bandits might. I killed the guys up top but there might be more inside. B-bandits—" Valbanill paused to burp. "Bandits do so love to set up shop in ruins and caves. And this place is both close and far enough from the Imperial City to make a good hideout."
"So you want to go stir up a fight."
"And take all their shit. I'm sure they've got a few drinks lying around."
"Assuming there are any bandits in there. Wouldn't they have come out by now? Check on their friends up top?"
"Who knows? Probably busy having a bandit orgy in there."
Clare rubbed at her throat again. She was sore, but she could certainly fight. She just hoped she wouldn't be taking another arrow to the throat. "Might as well give it a try. We could use some supplies."
"T-that's the spirit!" Valbanill led Clare to the entrance to Vilverin. It was nothing more than a worn slab stone door.
Clare pushed open the stone door.
"Oh, hey."
Clare turned around to look at Valbanill. "What?
"Mind getting me out of these first?" He motioned at his wrist irons.
Carefully, Clare snapped off the wrist irons.
"T-thanks."
Clare went in, with Valbanill following closely behind. As soon as they were both in, the stone doors closed shut on their own, blocking out the rays of the sun and making the interior of the ruins go very dark.
"Never understood why the d-doors always do that," Valbanill paused to burp. "The Ayleids must have really h-hated the sun."
"Keep it down," Clare shushed him. "If there are bandits down there, let's try not to tip them off right away?" Clare suddenly considered that things might prove difficult traveling with Valbanill. He seemed to be a big talker, and that was going to be a problem if he didn't know when to shut up and get serious. And Clare certainly suspected he was slightly drunk. She wondered how many drinks he had downed while she was asleep.
Clare was careful as she scaled down the stairs. They were heavily worn down and many were broken. A long plank of wood had been placed to serve as a bridge where the floor had become too damaged. The stairs spiraled all the way to the right. Clare peered down over the edge and noticed some glowing crystals at bottom, providing weak lighting.
Tick-tick-tick-tick. The ends of Clare's eight scorpion legs quietly sounded off on the stone steps.
Clunk. That wasn't right.
A large object suddenly swung into Clare's view. Her reflexes kicked in and she caught it in her claws right before it smashed into her.
It was a wooden log covered in spikes. Clare looked down to see she had stepped on a pressure plate that someone set up.
"Someone doesn't want any company," Clare whispered.
She gently released the spiked log and let it dangle by its chain as she brushed by and continued down the stairs.
Valbanill smiled as he followed behind Clare. There were people down there. And they wanted to be left alone. And that surely meant they had stuff worth taking… and that always included alcohol.
They stopped at a landing with a wooden table. Clare quickly and quietly ate the food the table had to offer and pointed at an iron shield carelessly laying on top. She didn't need it, but it looked like it would suit Valbanill just fine. The Breton took it and they continued downward.
Tick-tick-tick-tick. Clare tried to stay as silent as she could. She swore she could hear voices up ahead. Things would be so much easier if she had the element of surprise this time.
Snap. Clare felt a weak pressure release from under her. She looked down and saw a tripwire had snapped under her.
In an instant, Clare heard Valbanill grunt in pain, and the Breton was suddenly thrown up against her back. At the same time, another object had struck her from behind; only this one was metal and covered in spikes. The force of the blow combined with Valbanill caused Clare to freeze up but she lost her balance and fell forward.
The Scorpion Daedra and the Breton fell down the stairs in a tangled heap.
"What was that?"
"It came from the stairs!"
They could hear voices… and footsteps.
The world around her was woozy and wobbling and spinning. Clare groaned. It felt like she had landed on something.
"G-get off of me!" Valbanill demanded.
Clare did her best to right herself up—and just in time, the bandits had appeared to attack.
"So much for the element of surprise," Valbanill complained. "Fuckin' swinging mace traps." Still pinned on the floor, the Breton was able to look back to see two maces on chains swaying back and forth.
The first of the bandits were right upon them. Clare grabbed Valbanill with her claws and pulled him up the steps. Clare started to skitter backwards up the steps, hoisting up Valbanill with her claws.
She grabbed his slender body with her hands and hoisted him over her shoulder, where he quickly and awkwardly fell over her back and onto her scorpion body. He tried to grab on to her segmented shell.
Clare fended off the swords of the first two bandits with her claws. Going up the stairway, the bandits had no other direction to attack from. But Clare was having a hard time recovering from the fall and Valbanill failing around on her back wasn't making things any easier.
She roared and snapped one of the bandit's swords with her claws. But the bandit instantly pulled a dagger and kept attacking her anyway with suicidal fervor. She sprang her right claw forward and caught him in the deltoid muscle. Clare pulled her claw out and the bandit fell backwards into the others below.
Suddenly, there were more combat calls, but these came not from the living, but the dead. They were sounds Clare had heard a little too recently for her taste: the creaks, groans and hissing of skeletons.
Two undead warriors had appeared behind the group of bandits. One brandished an iron war-axe, while the other had a steel war-axe. They didn't look like much, until they sank their weapons into the soft fur armor of the bandits.
Half the bandits' attention was now turned away from the Scorpion Daedra, and Clare wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation. She heaved her weight forward, smashing into the other sword-wielder. He flew back into the other bandits, causing most of them to end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs with the two skeletons.
Two arrows flew in Clare's directions, but luckily both missed. Clare hissed as she saw the two archers. She had no desire to be shot in the throat again. One of the skeletons lodged its war-axe deep into one of the archers. The other turned and fired at the undead attacker, only for the arrow to bounce harmlessly off the skeleton's ribs.
That meant that Clare no longer had any arrows flying at her, and she rushed to utilize that advantage. She charged at the melee fighters, cutting into them as quickly as she could.
The uninjured archer turned her attention away from the skeletons and back towards Clare. The Scorpion Daedra dashed in just as another arrow was notched. Clare managed to graze the bandit in the stomach with her claw, causing the arrow to go wild.
A heavily armored bandit with a battle-axe, charged at Clare, swiping at her legs. Clare saw the attack and moved her body with the blow, the axe only scoring a glancing strike on her armored legs.
Meanwhile, Valbanill hadn't even pulled himself off the ground. He just crawled through the mess as the Scorpion Daedra and the skeletons fought with the bandits. He grabbed one of the misfired arrows off of the floor and crawled over towards the remaining archer. Completely unnoticed by his preoccupied prey, Valbanill crawled right up to her and drove the arrow deep into her foot. The Altmer cried out in pain. Before she could react to the attack, Valbanill drove himself upward and tackled her to the floor. He held her on the ground until one of the skeletons wandered over and drove its war-axe into her skull.
Clare locked her claws on the armored bandit's battle-axe. He put up a surprising fight to keep his weapon, but she was ultimately able to wrestle it away. Just as she snapped the axe in half with her claws, the bandit pulled a dagger and lunged at her. She hit him with a glancing blow, but the bandit was able to sink his dagger into her side as he was tossed aside.
The Scorpion Daedra's eyes winced in pain and she ground her teeth and she charged at the bandit before he could recover. She pinned him to the ground, put a claw to his neck, and released his head from his body in one quick pinch.
Clare let out a few ragged breaths as she turned around to face the next opponent, only to find Valbanill and the two skeletons. The undead creatures didn't move to attack, only stood flanking Valbanill like a pair of bodyguards. Clare just stared for a moment until the skeletons both let out a hiss, and then suddenly started to collapse, only for their bones to fade to nothingness before they hit the ground.
"Not a necromancer, huh?" Clare dropped her eyes from Valbanill for a moment to make sure the Amulet of Kings hadn't fallen away during the battle.
"What? So I know the Summon Skeleton spell. What of it? Doesn't automatically m-make me a necromancer. Just means I know a little something about the school of Conjuration."
Looking back at the wispy Breton, Clare noticed Valbanill's eyes drifting from her face downward, towards her wound.
"You need help with that?"
"I don't know any healing spells," Clare admitted. She could feel her blood slowly oozing from her side.
"A-a-alright. Let me take a look at this." Valbanill sauntered over. He casually went right in-between her claws and right up to her. Past her claws was something Clare Sadlygrove always considered her personal space. No one was ever this close to her unless it was a messy fight. But this was of course, going to be an exception.
"You just can't keep from getting hurt, can you?" Valbanill examined the dagger stuck in Clare for a second. "Let's see, let's see." He started to run his hand gently down her side.
"You see with your hands, rather than your eyes?" Clare asked.
"Checking you out. Hmmm…"
Clare tolerated the contact. It was a strange feeling. She was not accustomed to being touched often, and certainly not in a gentle way. She noticed he kept going back over her ribs.
"Yep, okay. Y-yeah. He got you right under the ribcage. N-not sure if he got anything important, but it really doesn't matter."
"It does to me." Clare let out a pained groan.
"Not in a moment, it won't. I'm gonna-gonna pull the dagger out now. Ready?"
Clare sucked in air. "Yeah, do it."
Valbanill swiftly removed the dagger and Clare winced. He then immediately put his hand firmly over the wound and suddenly Clare's side was radiating with a pale blue light.
"Just give my healing spell a moment. This isn't too bad."
Clare relaxed and slowed her breathing. The pain was subsiding. The spell felt a little odd, but nice. She could feel the wound sealing up.
The blue light subsided and the odd magical feeling (and the pain) was gone. Valbanill slowly pulled his hand away.
Clare let out a sigh of content. "That felt nice. I'm gonna have to keep you around."
"Oh, my hands could make you feel a whole lot nicer than that."
"Don't press your luck, Valbanill." Clare wiped the blood off her side as best she could. Not even a scar was left. It was as if she hadn't been stabbed at all. Valbanill was clearly a strong healer.
"A-alright, alright. Your loss." Valbanill backed away, retreating past the natural barrier of personal space Clare's claw arms provided. "L-let's—" Valbanill let out a burp. "Let's go see what we've won, shall we?"
Clare followed Valbanill as he looked over the corpses of the bandits. He picked up an iron war-axe from the bloodstained floor. "This will do just nicely. Could 'a had that battle-axe the ringleader had, if you hadn't s-snapped it in two."
"So sorry," Clare wasn't sorry at all. "I was busy just trying to survive the fight."
The pair continued past the entryway and into the main hall. There were bedrolls, barrels, chests, food, and drink lying everywhere.
"I-I called it!" Valbanill seized a bottle of cheap wine. "I so called it!"
"Don't go drinking every bottle you see," Clare warned.
"What are you, my mother?"
"There still might be other bandits around. You need to be right in the head in order to fight."
"I fight better drunk. B-besides, we probably already t-took care of every bandit in the entire ruins. They all came rushing in at us right from the start. Could you be any louder? They can hear your clanky ass all the way over in Morrowind."
"I'm sorry. I'm not well practiced in slithering around like a coward. And your sneaking skills leave a lot to be desired," Clare retorted. "And I got hit by that mace trap, which caught you too."
"Big deal." Valbanill finished the bottle of wine and moved on to another one sitting on a wooden table. "We're both alive. And that calls for a drink… or two… or three."
Clare rolled her six eyes, and then noticed a dirty scroll, which she quickly picked up and read.
Some of the men were worried about these old ruins being haunted, but Mephala take them—this spot's going to be perfect for ambushing merchants along the road. And all under the nose of the Imperial Legion!
Finally got some of those big blue stones down today. Berenice got the idea to shoot them down with her bow. Got 'em all here with me. I don't know what they are, but they stink of magicka. Bet they'll fetch a nice price with the Mage's Guild.
Two-Coins and that Khajiit from Vvardenfell set up their camps down in the tomb. Fine by me, spares the rest of us the smell.
Two-Coins ran up today, the Khajiit's gone missing. Swore to the Nine that you could hear claws scrabbling at limestone, but nothing's down there. I'm guessing she got tired of the smell and snuck out overnight. Two-Coins' stench could peel shells off mudcrabs—I'm surprised she hung around that long.
"Huh, guess there's still stuff in these ruins left to loot. And the bandits were using Vilverin to ambush merchants."
"Told you." Valbanill finished his bottle.
Clare let out a little laugh. "Guess we did our good deed for the day."
"And good deeds deserve rewards. I say we go further in and see what else this old place has to offer."
"What? We don't have enough here?" Clare seized a locked chest with her might claws and snapped it in half, causing gold to spill out onto the floor. "I've got no pockets. Could you get that for me?"
Valbanill grumbled as he went over and started picking up the gold coins one by one. "Did you have to make such a fucking mess?"
Clare ate the food at the table while she watched Valbanill pick up the gold. Once Valbanill was finished, Clare felt her hunger was finally sated, though now there wasn't any food left to take with them to eat later.
"Hmm, I guess we could go exploring a little more. Maybe they have some spare food stored further below."
"Or more booze," Valbanill added. "Besides? What coward exits ruins after only going down to the first level?"
Clare picked up a pack lying on the floor. She opened it up and rummaged around, only to find that it was empty. She tossed it over to Valbanill. "Here, take that. So we can carry some stuff."
Valbanill strapped the pack to his back and put the gold he had collected off the floor into a coin purse on the table.
Once they were all set, they went down a flight of stairs. In the next room over they had found that several barrels had been broken open. There was cheese and lettuce everywhere.
"Lettuce and cheese?" Clare asked. "I wonder what they were going to make with all of this?"
"Perhaps they recently robbed a lettuce and cheese merchant," Valbanill suggested.
They stuffed what they could into Valbanill's pack and ate the rest.
Things were quiet as they twisted their way down further into the depths of Vilverin. They reached a stone door with the engraving of a glowing tree on it. Clare pushed through with Valbanill right behind her.
Past the door it was nearly pitch-black. Even Clare had a difficult time seeing. The Scorpion Daedra could hear Valbanill cast a spell behind her, no doubt that sight spell he had used back in the Imperial Sewers.
Clare was able to see just enough to keep going, the short hall curved to the left quickly enough. Up ahead there were lights. One light source came from a small fire on the right, the other up ahead, a wilted blue aura that illuminated an Ayleid cask.
"Who's there?" they heard a voice.
"Just some of your bandit buddies," Clare lied through her teeth as she skittered forward.
"Yep, just two bandits, out banditing it up," Valbanill added.
"Could you at least try and be convincing?" Clare snared at the Breton.
"I was no less convincing than you."
Just as Clare reached the Ayleid cask, there was movement on her right. An iron battle-axe collided with her side. The blow glanced off her natural armor but Clare was stumbled to the side. She quickly recovered and struck at the bandit. Her claws snapped at the axe and she drove her stinger into the bandit's chest.
"No, please! I surrender!" the bandit started to limp away.
Clare let him go but Valbanill summoned a skeleton that delivered the final blow to their defeated foe.
"That was rather heartless," Clare said as she fiddled with the old Ayleid container.
"Just being cautious. H-he could have been going back to warn his friends."
"If there are even any left," Clare interjected.
"Doesn't hurt to be careful. Let an enemy live and they'll return to stab you in the back. I-I would have thought a Scorpion Daedra of all people would have more sense.
"Judge me by my race, huh? Tell me, does me being a Scorpion Daedra mean that I'm supposed to act a certain way? Believe certain things?"
"No. Just incorrectly assuming you had some common sense."
"Hey now, I let you live, if you remember."
"And I appreciate it."
Clare managed to break open the ancient container, finding several flawed jewels inside, which she then gave to Valbanill to hold on to.
"So, you're saying you would not be so merciful with me if our situation back in the sewers was reversed?" Clare asked.
"I was just following you. This g-guy-guy, stupid dead guy attacked us."
Clare chucked. "I injected him with my poison. He was no threat to us any longer."
"And you call me heartless. Maybe he had a potion of Cure Poison lying around. Who knows?"
Clare considered what Valbanill said. He had a point, yet she couldn't help but feel that he was being overly cautious and a little paranoid. Or perhaps he just liked killing. She'd have to reserve judgment of him for later. They continued to try and delve further into Vilverin, only to find themselves at an impasse.
"Where do we go from here?" Clare asked. "We're going around in circles."
"D-damn ass Ayleids were drunk off their asses when they d-d-designed this place."
"You're one to talk," Clare said. "I told you to lay off the booze."
"I'm f-fine. Just lemme… think."
A few more minutes of looking around and Clare was starting to get bored. It looked like they were going to have to go back up the way they came.
"Found it!" Clare could hear stone moving as soon as Valbanill shouted.
"Found what?" Clare asked as she skittered over towards where the Breton was.
"Pressure plate. Opened up a secret route."
They made their way through the secret hall only to be emptied out into a large room lit by a massive metal chandelier holding several glowing crystals. In the center of the room they found a dead Khajiit bandit.
"Something happened here."
"Ya think?" Valbanill asked.
"Something else is down in here. Something worse than bandits."
"Yay," Valbanill cheered with sarcastic enthusiasm. "I wonder who else we'll get to kill today."
Clare gave the Breton a look.
They continued onward, finding that they had to walk over yet another pressure plate in order to advance further.
Making their way further in, Valbanill paused. "I smell the undead."
"I smell them too," Clare nodded.
As if on cue, two skeletons wielding war-axes and a skeleton archer appeared to challenge them.
Valbanill summoned a pair of his own skeletons. The skeletons started hissing and creaking at each other. At first Clare had paused to let Valbanill's minions do the fighting… but the problem was they weren't fighting.
"Uh, Valbanill, what's going on? Why aren't they fighting?"
"Something, something. Let me see," the Breton was mostly muttering to himself. "Something about that aura? Ahhh."
The wispy Breton wandered over to the group of skeletons and to Clare's surprise, started talking with them.
All the skeletons turned and started to leave. Valbanill turned back to Clare. "C'mon. We're following them."
The Scorpion Daedra was stunned. "W-what in Oblivion just happened?"
"The skeletons are going to take us to their leader."
Clare just stared at Valbanill as if he had sprouted a second head.
"W-w-what? Don't look at me like that. Not everything is solved by violence."
Clare followed. "This. Coming from you?"
They followed the skeletons all the way to the end of the ruins where they were finally stopped in a large room.
Valbanill's skeletons had long since dissipated, and they were now surrounded by ten of the other's undead warriors. Clare couldn't help but think that this could very well be a trap.
"Jakrelkill Valbanill."
A Redguard clad in black robes wandered out from the darkness.
"Jalbert. Were you w-waiting in the shadows that whole time just to make that lackluster entrance?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Killin' bandits and drinkin' beer. And I'm all out of bandits… and beer."
"You mean my test subjects?"
"You're test subjects? Finders keepers. Losers weepers."
"Just as crass and clumsy as ever, I see," the Redguard retorted. "You have all the finesse of a drunken Orc bricklayer."
"And at the rate you go, the bandits would die of old age before you got to them all."
"I see you've taken to conjuring Daedra now," Jalbert looked over at the Scorpion Daedra that at up until this point had been ignored.
"So, you two know each other?" Clare crossed her arms over her chest.
"What possibly gave it away?" Jalbert asked with savage sarcasm. "You sure got a winner here, Valbanill. She sounds just like something your drunk ass would conjure."
"I take it you're a necromancer, Jalbert?" Clare asked.
"Of course. I would have thought all the skeletons would have given that away."
Clare looked over at the Breton. "And you, Valbanill?"
Valbanill didn't answer.
"Of course he is," the Redguard answered for the Breton. "How in the world would you not know? Valbanill, your minions are dumber than you are."
Clare burst forward and seized Valbanill in her claws and raised him up. Jalbert and his horde of skeletons raised their weapons.
"You lied to me!" Clare spat.
"H-hang on, now." Valbanill wheezed as the Scorpion Daedra's claws squeezed him harder.
"Valbanill, control your thrall, right now," Jalbert sternly said.
"Back off! You attack me and I'll cut him in two," Clare warned.
Jalbert simply started to laugh.
"Huh? What's so fucking funny?" Clare was confused.
"You think I give a fuck what happens to him? Go ahead."
"Fuck you, Jalbert! You stupid son of a bitch!" Valbanill yelled. "You dumbass! You think you're going to beat this Scorpion Daedra here, you've got another thing coming!"
Despite how pissed she was, Clare couldn't help but feel flattered by the comment.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Clare asked.
"What did it matter?" Valbanill said. "Necromancy is l-legal in Cyrodiil."
"Then why lie?"
"Because of the stigma, of course. What else? I-I-I w-would think that a Scorpion Daedra of all people would understand that."
Clare let out a breath of air she'd been holding in. He was right. She lowered the Breton to the floor and released her grip on him.
Jalbert just laughed.
"Hey, shut up, Jalbert!" Valbanill yelled.
"Leave this place," the Redguard necromancer said. "We have no business to conduct and you're wasting my time."
"Oh, wow. Look at you. Yeah, you must be soooo busy hiding out here slowly picking off bandits one by one. Cause your research must be ever so important. Got any booze?"
"I'm not a merchant looking to trade, Valbanill. And you have nothing I want. Leave now, while I am still being cordial."
"Very well," Valbanill grumbled. "We will leave, while I'm still being cordial."
Clare was tense, given the way these two acted and the fact that they were both necromancers, she was expecting that things still might devolve into a fight at any time.
"My skeletons will show you out."
"Okay, have fun rotting away in this dungeon by yourself." Valbanill waved as he and Clare followed the skeletons out.
The skeletons left the Scorpion Daedra and the Breton peacefully once they reached the entrance to Vilverin. Walking back outside, and Clare once again found Masser and Secunda hanging up in the night sky.
Valbanill started walking towards the lake. Clare followed.
"You lied to me."
"B-big deal, everyone lies."
"How can I trust anything you say?" Clare asked in a serious tone.
"How can you trust anything anyone says?" Valbanill countered. "A-all manner of people will betray you and stab you in the back. If I was going to do that, I would have just let you die from the start. You fool."
"Yeah… you healed me. But… What else?" Clare hissed.
"I put you to bed so you wouldn't catch your death of cold."
"… You didn't do, anything else?"
"I did nothing inappropriate, if that's what you're asking. I'm not a rapist."
"And how do I know that's not a lie?"
"You have to decide if you trust me or not."
"I… I don't think I've made up my mind about you."
"I saved your life. What more do you want from me, woman?" Valbanill stopped walking along the edge of the water and turned to face Clare.
Valbanill just stood there with this weird expression on his face. She couldn't quite place it. She would have guessed he might be angry but he looked… sad… defeated?
"It's hard to trust a necromancer. I've dealt with them before," Clare admitted.
"Was any of those necromancers me? I don't think so."
"Let's see if you can be honest with me. How did you kill those bandits? The ones up top that shot us full of arrows."
"Healing spell to save myself. Summoned a bunch of skeletons to kill them. Then healed you. Not much to it."
Clare sighed. He did save her. It certainly felt like he was telling the truth. Even if he was a necromancer, he was apparently a descent person… sort of. "I trust you enough to keep traveling with you. So c'mon. Where do we go from here?"