Marshall paced back and forth from the cave's entrance. He was anxious – he wasn't sure why, but his instincts were rarely wrong. The stocky Breton glanced down at his tattered clothing and swore at himself for not wearing armor.

Marshall looked to Devon and Zahra. Devon was the only member of the group that could speak sign language, and therefore communicated with Zahra regularly. Marshall kicked himself again. They were both his responsibility on this escape, and he wasn't ready to let harm come to them… but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. No, Marshall thought. Never again.

The Breton thought back to his time in the Imperial city, where he grew up… on the streets. It would have been a solitary existence, but he bonded with the other street rats around. His particular friends were Del, a Dunmer girl, and Rajab, a Khajiit boy. The trio, younger than ten, was family. That was before the Viscount performed his hostile takeover, and the Specters flooded the streets of the Imperial City. Marshall shivered. Then teenagers living in a small waterfront shack, Del was the first to be killed. She tried to escape, but was caught by a stray arrow. Rajab, a volunteer guardsman, was executed. Only Marshall made it out of the city. He struggled with rough survivor's guilt for a while after the incident. He met Devon years after, also a lost soul, and the two bonded. He shook off the memories. Marshall needed to be strong for his friends.

Near Marshall, Mirza sat next to Wynne on a large rock. Wynne wore a conservative purple robe that wrapped around her body in an exotic pattern. Mirza smiled at the young apprentice. She was holding up surprisingly well, considering she was the youngest one here. Not to say Wynne didn't show signs of stress, though.

Mirza was surprised to discover Wynne's normally orange hair was naturally sandy blonde, and it wasn't pinned up, so it fell straight past her shoulders. "I love that color," Mirza has said. "Blonde hair is so beautiful, and rare." She ran her hands through her own long auburn hair. "Mine is red. It's such an oddity."

"I dye my hair with a natural substance, but it doesn't last long," Wynne said quickly, in a soft and timid voice. "Blonde hair is so typical among the women who want to look pretty, so much that it's worn out. Copper is unique and special, like your hair. It compliments your eyes."

Mirza laughed shyly. "Thank you, Wynne." Mirza always thought that her steely gray eyes made her look less attractive, but it was always welcome to hear a compliment.

"You look very strong," Wynne continued, eying Mirza's extremely light and fine mithral armor. "Dr. Abbott had told me you used to be a warrior, but I never really imagined you as one. Why did you ever settle down?"

Mirza shivered at the memories Wynne brought up. Davis Quinn, her former husband, convinced her to settle. She loved the man, until he showed his true colors as an abuser. She had slowly gotten used to it over the years, until his put-downs were a daily part of life. She even came to believe his insults: that she was worthless, ugly, and weak. The simple charm and confidence of Davis could sway the opinion of anyone, including the formally strong warrior. She remembered the last time she saw him vividly.

Mirza stood in her kitchen, weighing at least twenty pounds more than she does now, cooking. She wore a tattered two-piece black outfit and dirty white apron. Her hair was tied behind her head and she was stirring Davis's and her dinner. Davis, a tall and attractive Imperial, walked in the kitchen as Mirza tripped and boiling hot water from her ladle splashed on Davis's cheek, just enough to quickly leave a red mark that began to blister.

"Dammit, Mirza, I've had enough of your shit!" He screamed, and knocked the entire pot of hald-cooked stew on the floor, burning Mirza's foot.

"No… Davis! I'm sorry!" Mirza shouted as the large man advanced on her. He grabbed her face with one hand and held it close to his.

"You meant to burn me, didn't you?" He seethed, and squeezed her cheeks harder.

"No! It was an accident!" She was crying.

"Damn it, stop crying!" Davis shouted and shoved Mirza to the floor, into the previously boiling water. It had cooled down, but it still burned her. The reaction was instant. Mirza scrambled up and sprinted towards the exit. Davis was too fast and blocked her from escaping. "I'm not done with you yet, bitch." He whispered and shoved Mirza's head against a table counter. All went dark.

Mirza remembered nothing but waking up behind her house, staring into a pair of sharp blue eyes. At first, she thought it was her husband again, coming to finish the job. But she saw his brown curls, and breathed a sigh of relief. Dr. Kain Abbott carried her back to his university and treated her for the next week. She had a concussion, several burns, and bruises all over her body. Kain informed Mirza that Davis had fled the town, taking nothing. The house was now hers, and she was finally independent, finally free of Davis Quinn. Kain agreed not to share what happened to her with anyone, except Kidroni, who already knew. She didn't want people knowing how her husband tried to kill her. Barely anyone even knew he verbally abused her.

"I love your robes," Mirza said after a long pause, ignoring Wynne's question. The young Wood Elf just blinked and continued the conversation, until the cave began to shake. Instantly, the entrance collapsed, as if it was waiting for the quake.

"Everyone get back!" Izara, who had previously kept to himself, shouted. The cave shook more as Kidroni's tunnel collapsed. "Watch out for falling boulders!"

Marshall cursed as a rock fell inches from his head and the tunnel that Kain went into collapsed. "There's no way out!" He shouted.

Mirza helped Wynne closer to the group as Marshall did the same for Devon and Zahra. "What are we going to do?" Devon asked, looking around. The Altmer looked troubled, having a problem he couldn't face head-on.

Izara looked around desperately – when he saw a large crack up a wall on a side of the cave. Dust flowed out of the gash in the wall. "Over here!" He shouted, and ran over to the crack amidst the chaos.

"You think it leads somewhere?" Marshall grunted over the sounds of the cave collapsing.

"It's worth a try," Izara shouted. "We need to break it down."

"I got this," Marshall announced. "Stand back," He warned, as he reared up on the wall. With a ferocious cry of battle, the muscleman charged at the wall with all of his might and, either due to his strength or the imminent collapse, exploded through to the other side. The crack lead to an extremely narrow tunnel, but it seemed intact. The group was forced to walk single file into the darkness.