Sorry it's been a million years. Life got busy and then when it settled down I lost my motivation to write this for awhile. But never fear-I will not stop until it's over! Special thanks to Claroso for badgering me to continue. Hope you like the chapter-it's a long one!
Fire torches lit the cavernous space, beckoning us to continue forward. There is a sharp drop downward, marked by a steep, cobbled staircase. Large crumbled Nordic statues litter the once glorious catacomb, strewn obstacle like across the room and casting dark shadows. Perfect hiding spots for the Dragur. I look back at the entrance, gazing at the starry sky one last time, before jumping down. I land with a light thud, a dust cloud and spider webs swirling in my wake. Vorstag lands beside me, several times louder. His swords and sack clank obnoxiously.
Wincing, I hear the haunting bark of a Draugr in the distance.
"There goes the element of surprise." I complain just audible enough for my clunky partner to hear. He answers by unsheathing is great sword, taking care to let it scrape raucously as he pulls it out.
The sound of padding feet comes from the side and we whirl toward the darkness, seeing only a growing pair of soulless blue eyes. Bracing myself, I light up my hands, letting the flames roar high, illuminating the shadows and exposing the Draugr. The mindless, sparsely armed zombie doesn't even stop, but throws itself forward in a suicidal attempt to fulfill its curse.
I duck down and Vorstag leaps over me, thrusting his sword through the creature the long way. It stalls, retching forward, suspended in the moment between life and death. Vorstag mercilessly twists his blade and the Draugr's lighted eyes go out and its juicy body cleaves in two.
"You know I hate it when you do that." I nag, reigning in my fire to palm sized flames.
"You're the one who ducked," he says, flicking the brown slime from his black blade. He then levers it under the backside of one of the halves, turning it over and searching for anything worth keeping. "Catch."
I respond reflexively, catching the item in my lit hands. A garnet. The red gem lights up beautifully in the fire, which I quickly extinguish, and I slip it into my pouch. I smile slightly as I feel it warm against my thigh. He knows they are my favorite.
We head down the lit tunnel, easily fighting the weaker Draugr as we wind are way through the tombs. Dead bodies (the non-zombie kind) line the walls and rest in the wall casks. They smell putrid, and I fight the urge to vomit, wrapping a clean cloth around my face.
"Saber," Vorstag calls quietly upon moving off the side, "Look at these bodies." I bound over and look to where he points.
A series of bodies are falling out of their inlets, wrapping pulled off and purple muscles exposed under ripped flesh.
"Are those bite marks?" I ask quietly, mostly rhetorical. We both know what this place is, and we now know we are getting nearer.
"These cannibals, Saber," he says in a tight voice, gripping his lowered blade, "they aren't people. They are monsters. Don't show any mercy when we face them. No matter who happens to be in that…dining hall."
I give him a curt nod and turn away, winding my way slowly through the labyrinth of forgotten graves. It irked me that he felt the need to check my resolve, that he thought I might go soft. I couldn't help but feel he was questioning my past, that I would try to see through the cannibal and find a lost, trapped person being forced to do barbaric things. Just like me back in my Forsworn days. I shake the memories from my head. These were stained, evil people that could not be reconciled with. I was fully committed to purging them.
We make it out of the catacombs and come to a steep ledge where a stone bridge once was. Though the way across is broken, I can see a makeshift staircase leading from the pitch black ground on the other side. Without thinking, I shoot mage light into the pit and jump down with it when it hits.
It was about a fifteen foot drop down, a little deeper than I estimated, and my ankles throb at the impact. With a small wince I quickly heal myself, the yellow glow swirling around my shadowed form. I look up to Vorstag, about to motion him to come down when I hear a groaning pops all around me.
Panicked, I whirl, lighting the area to find at least half-a-dozen draugr climbing out of ancient stone coffins. Shit.
Vorstag makes to leap down but I yell at him to wait. Worried but trusting my judgment, he holds his position from above, sword braced in his hand. "Just don't start any trouble without me." He calls from above, knowing I intend to do just that.
The draugr advance slowly from all sides, as if they aren't sure what to make of me. Slowly, I begin to moves my arms in front of, my fingers caressing the air, tugging on his energy and bending it to my will. The biggest draugr, wearing a horned helmet, scans me with its glowing blue.
My arms light up in soft flames and pyro spheres begin to form in my hand. I can feel the power vibrating within me, blazing and burning to get out, and surrounding me in a red glow.
The dominant draugr barks a series of incoherent words and points a bony hand at me.
Not yet.
The other draugr growl in response, raising their ancient swords, and charge at me from all sides.
Now.
With a maddened cry I thrust my arms down. For a split second nothing happens.
Then the world goes orange. I slam my eyes shut and crunch down, bracing myself and quickly unsheathing a pair of steel blades. Heat swells from me, lighting the world on fire. I hear the draugrs bellow in pain as their rotten flesh burns to a crisp and can picture their cursed bodies falling down in contorted heaps of ash, Vorstag leaping into a stone alcove as the flames roar up the walls, cursing me for showing off.
I feel my energy drain rapidly and pull my eyelids open. The world is blurry and still smoldering, large fires dancing before my eyes. I take a deep breath and rein the fire in, leaving nothing but the charred bodies and the smell of smoke and flesh.
I try to stand but find my legs shaking, cold sweat pouring down my forehead and spreading across my back. I try to use my sword to pull myself up but collapse to my knees. With an uneven breath I rest my head on its hilt.
Vorstag drops down and runs to me, standing guard in a protective manner. When he sees the draugr are dead, well deader than before, he drops his guard and crouches by me, pulling out a small green vial.
"Drink up." He says with a small smirk.
I try to say thanks, but can only manage a cough. He laughs, but I can tell its laced with worry. I pour the stamina potion into my dry mouth, its lemony taste doing little to quench my thirst but restoring power to my limbs and ceasing the aches in my head and back. I feel my heart rate return to normal and pull myself up from the ground, better than ever, but a little disappointed.
"Saber," he scolds lightly, "what were you thinking?"
"I was thinking I'd be able to handle it this time."
"What would you have done if those draugr hadn't all died? You were in no condition to fend them all off."
"That's what I have you for." The words came out naturally and I want to shove the words back into my mouth the moment they left. I feel my ears grow hot and physically restrain myself from slapping myself.
He doesn't say anything, but just stares down at me, brow furrowed. Oh, Lady Dibella, why must you torture me so?
Wracking my brain, I desperately look for something to say. "Anyways, it was just practice. I need to work on the bigger spells more if I want to build my magicka up. Remember how I always use to pass out? Now I don't! And eventually I'll be able to do it without collapsing. "
He sighs, awkwardly reaching out to me and placing his large hand on my shoulder. "I understand that, but I still think it'd be better if you didn't practice that on our quests. Why risk needlessly tiring yourself out when it matters the most? You can always practice out in the wilds. Cook us up some nice venison and horker meat."
I shrug him off and give him a small scowl. "But that's no fun. Now come on, we have a cave to purge."
XXX
After clearing more of the catacombs, we found ourselves facing a large, double iron door at the end of a vaulted hall. The massive structure had intricate designs carved on its surface, with grand iron snake slinking their way up its surface and around the frame, their metal tail ends serving as grand handles.
Vorstag and I look to each other, a little apprehensive to find out what lies behind.
"Get ready for a fight." He says with a small growl, placing his hand on his sword, ready to draw. With a large thrust, I push the doors open, revealing the chamber within.
A long stone table, stained with blood spans the length of the arched room. The once grandeur of the place is visible among the decay and crumbling architecture. One could only gues the honorable feasts that took place hear in honor of the dead. Now it had been refiled to feats on the dead. I shuddered at the thought and crept into the room, small fires burning in my palms.
In the stone chairs sit a series of long dead bodies, their flesh shrunken in and clinging gruesomely to their exposed bones. Clad in ancient armor covered in cobwebs and dust, I wonder just how long they'd been here.
Suddenly their eye pits light up.
Not too long I guess.
Their bones groan and creak as their pull themselves from the ancient chairs, pulling out swords and capping on large, deer horned helmets. The draugr at the head steps up on the table, shouting in such a loud voice that my brain vibrates within my skull. I cringe, attempting to cover my ears without burning them off. And then they charge.
Vorstag bellows, unsheathing his great sword and hacking the first draugr to reach us in two. I spring from my crouch and latch my legs around a bewildered one's waist, shoving my blazing hands into its face and burning it to a crisp. I quickly jump of it as it crumples backward, rolling to the pillared side parallel to Vorstag. We flank from behinds the pillars, killing the numerous draugr as we push to the head.
"That's an overlord!" Vorstag shouts amongst the din, referencing to the large, decorated draugr barking upon the table. "He'll be a hard bastard to take down!"
"What is it doing?" I yell back, sweeping a brutish, heavy one from its decaying feat and blazing it alive as it turtle-like tries to get up.
"I'm not sure!" He calls back. I from the forest of pillars I see him lunging and slicing draugrs in a frenzied battle that he somehow makes look like a graceful dance. That sword must weigh at least twenty pounds, yet he swings it with ease. "Let's try not to get to close to it."
Agreeing with him, I avoid the overlord for the time being, focusing my attention on the draugrs in front of me. In my moment of distraction, one draugr had gotten closer in than I expected. It swings a rusty blade at me, biting into my shoulder.
I cry in pain, recoiling from the force of the blade, instinctually clutching at the wound. It comes at me again, blade raised in a slicing motion. No time to heal. With one hand I cast flames at the monster, rolling out of the way as it swings downward. With its back to me I clumsily wrench a sword from my sheath and stab through the back of its neck. It make a grotesque choking sound and collapses underneath my weight.
Wrenching my blade free, I swing around, catching another one in the legs. It falls to the side, attempting to get up, but I crush its chest under my foot, hearing the ribs crack, and stab it down to the floor. My good hand once again free, I shoot flames into its face until the blue lights go out. Dead.
As my body cools down, I am reminded of the hot pain I my shoulder. Quickly, I heal it up, doing my best not to look at the blood soaked leather. As the pain goes I feel strength return to my arm. Clenching my fist, I feel my energy return. Time for more dual casting.
The draugr are gone on my side, but Vorstag is still fighting his across the room. I get a good sight of him between the pillars, raise my hands, and cast healing hands on him. The yellow light swirls around him and I can see a new spring in his step as he slices down the remaining draugr. He turns to me, a wicked smile on his face, and motions for us to take the deathlord on.
We burst from the pillars to the center of the room, ready to confront the helmeted monster. Vorstag jumps up onto the stone table, leveling himself with the deathlord. It watches eerily as Vorstag twirls his sword. I begin building up a fireball in my hands, ready to shoot when needed. After a moment, Vorstag charges forward, a bloody scream in his wake. I hold the ball, and waiting for a good opening.
"Fus ro dah!"
I feel myself go flying through the air, letting my fire ball go, and crash into one of the stone pillars. Head pounding violently and world spinning, I search for Vorstag. The ceiling smokes from where my fireball hit, dropping embers on the table. Still disoriented, I feel my way up the pillar and stand, quickly casting a ward just in time.
The deathlord is upon me, hacking at the blue energy shield with a greatsword larger than my body. Each blow causes dull pain in my head and I feel my magicka wearing down, the shield slowly dissipating. If I could just get the dead creature off of me, I'd have a fighting chance.
"Vorstag!" I shout, panic powering my weakened voice. My ward dispels.
Suddenly a black line pierces through the deathlord's chest. It bawks, retching forward and looking down at the protrusion. Dropping its own blade, it grabs hold of the black matter and tugs, confused and in pain. Suddenly the line slices up, cleaving its rib gage and exposing ghastly, shriveled organs.
Its body separates before me, armor clanking loudly to the floor, revealing a glowering Vorstag from behind.
He grunts, flicking the grimy secretion from his blade and kicks the dead draugr away. Looking to me, his eyes are wild and searching.
"Are you allright?" He asks, roughly pulling me up from my crouched position. His hands are on the sides of my head, eyes lingering and fingers soft.
"Am I allright? Vorstag, Are you allright!?" The left side of his head his covered in blood, oozing and from his skull and matting his dirty blond hair.
His soft fingers fall from my face, touching his own. He draws them back and looks at the dark red blood that stained his fingers. His blood. "I—I hadn't noticed…" He murmurs, starting to sway. I catch him as he sinks to the ground, falling a little myself from his weight.
I quickly heal him up and watch as his eyes refocus from his daze and the bash in his head reclose.
"Thanks." He manages with a smile, wiping the blood off. "Wasn't expecting that." He adds, referring to the draugr's force shout.
"That was ancient magic." I say, kneeling beside him, staring at the dead creatures around us. All those dead bodies; they could have been me, could have been us. "We weren't prepared for that sort of thing. Hell, we are never prepared for that sort of thing. We always just burst into situations relying on brute strength to get the job done." I look at the blood on him, the blood on me. "I don't know, maybe we are in over our heads."
"Where's all this coming from.," he says, pulling himself up and sheathing his blade. "Not an hour ago you said you were having fun?"
"I don't know." I say again, unable to meet his hazel eyes. "I just, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. If you got hurt and I wasn't able to heal you in time. If I ran out of energy and failed you…" I feel a lump forming in my throat, unsure where or why it was forming.
"I'm glad you have so much faith in my ability to survive." He says sarcastically, still facing me. I can feel him watching me, but I refuse to look.
"That's not what I meant." I mumble, staring at the ground, composing myself. I look up, pretending to look at him but secretly staring past his shoulder.
"I know, Saber. I feel that way about you. All the time. Ever since I saw—"
"What's that?" I say suddenly, noticing come strange device on the wall.
He blinks, retracing his words, "I was saying, well, what I'm trying to say—"
"No, no!" I say, pushing him around to face the other end of the hall. "What is that?" At the end of the dinning hall, there is a platform about five steps upward with a strange low table protruding from an intricate vanity. Something about it seems wrong.
I brush past him, quickening my strides, and cautiously ascend the steps. The vanity is a series of curved spikes, giving birth to a sinister man wearing a hawk-lion like headpiece. From the statues beak, a chain dangles, suspending a rusty red spike from above. No. Not rust. Dried blood.
There's a cracked lever on the wall beside the strange pedestal. I feel my fingers reach for it, my hand clasping on the cold, blood stained metal, and I pull. The spike comes falling down, piercing into a chipped hole in the small table's surface as it had hundreds of time before.
"What kind of monstrosity is this?" Vorstag has appeared at my side, watching the spiked chain retract back into the horrific statue.
"Like I said…" I whisper eerily. "In over our heads."
"These cannibals must al die." He says, a hint of terror in his voice. "This place, this cursed place must be destroyed. Something like this should never be able to happen again. I just can't even fathom how people could do this to one-another. To torture each other so, and feast on each other's flesh? It's demonic."
"Let's get out of here." I say, backing away from the device.
As we make our way back to the hall's entrance, I notice another lever on the wall. And a a strange outcropping of stone. I smile, pivoting towards it.
"What now?" Vorstag says, confused.
"We might not have to take the long way." I say cheerfully, pulling the lever. "Short cut!"
The wall rumbles open. Revealing a short cut and Eola on the other side.
Both of us scream, jumping back and drawing out weapons. The blonde laughs in response.
"How did you—how long were you?!" Vorstag stammers, taken aback by the blonde cannibal's sudden appearance. We awkwardly sheathe our blades, unsure of what to do. Had she heard what we had been saying?
"I told you I'd see you here, my heroes." She gives a toothy grin, her teeth unmarred by blood this time. "I've spent quite some time in this sanctuary…know all its ins and outs."
"You could've popped out at any time and helped us clear these draugr." Vorstag complains, though I know he's just trying to gage how long she has been here.
She pouts and tilts her head, surveying the room. "I only just arrived…though I don't think I'd been much help…but you've done it." She adds smugly, as if this isn't a surprise. "The shrine is ours again. Now we need to prepare a grand feast to welcome you to Namira's coven."
"Coven?" I ask, quickly trying to mask the disgust in my voice with awe. No one is here besides her though, so are plan to destroy them all will have to wait. We'll have to attend this feast in order to put an end to this Daedric cult.
"Yes my dears." She says, hopping down from the ledge and landing beside us. She moves like a cat, her green eyes unnaturally wide and always watching. "You will have the honor of brining a fresh kill for the main course. And I know the perfect person."
"What?" I gag, panic enveloping me. This was not part of the plan. I don't want to cause anyone (or let anyone) die. It hadn't occurred to me that the cult would be dining when we killed them.
Her vague eyes drift to me, so open and unblinking that I can see the full irises. A puzzled expression clouds her face and she cocks her head. "Still afraid, my sister?" she coos, taking a step toward me, her hand reaching for my face. I begin to take a step back when Vorstag instinctually steps in front of me.
"Just tell us who we need to bring." He growls bitterly.
"A priest, filled with the taste of an easy life." The cannibal says with flourish. She pauses, bating our patience. "Brother Verulus, from Markarth."
"What?" I balk, the image of the young, silly boy flashing in my mind.
"My dear, dear sister," Eola says sympathetically, as if she understands my discomfort. "You must understand this is the natural order of life. People are born and people die. His death will be of great meaning and held in Namira's honor. He couldn't ask for a better transition from this world to the next."
I have nothing I can say. I have nothing I want to say. It is taking every ounce of my will power from lighting up my hands and scorching her to ashes. It would be such an honorable death for Arkay and one that would hold great meaning to me and all the people she's devoured. I'm about to release the flames when Vorstag's voice cuts through.
"I think what Saber is confused about is how exactly we're supposed to get that pompous seat cushion down in this hole? He barely would enter the hall in fear of monsters. What makes you think he'll voyage out to some unknown cave with strangers?"
"Appeal to his sense of duty." She says with a smile, handing Vorstag a heavy bag. "Give him this gold. Tell him you need Arkay's help exploring an old cavern for treasure."
"And then what?" I say evenly, checking my anger. "What are we to do with him when we get here?" No more going with the flow planning. I want to know exactly what we're getting involved in.
"When he stands in Namira's presence," Eola says mysteriously, "she will take care of the rest."
I look at Vorstag, questioning if he wants to fall back on his old plan, kill first ask questions later, but he won't make eye contact with me. "Will do." He says forcefully, slipping the bag of gold onto his side. "The boy won't suspect a thing."
He then walks forward to the secret entrance, leaving me standing with the crazed cannibal. After a few moments of intense eye contact, I nod at her and scamper after my partner. None too eager to see her again and question him about what the hell is going on.
Her eyes are on the strange pendulum table, and without watching us leave she calls, "Say hello to Verulus for me."