Chapter Four
The Nord Battlemage's hand glowed red. Beneath his touch the Dunmer Bandit's thigh muscles tore and his bones fissured as the weak Damage Health spell took effect. A slight ripping and cracking were the only indication of the spell's effectiveness.
The Dunmer would have been screaming in pain if Shalz had not Silenced him. Currently he was mutely mouthing.
Standing further back Cassandra busied herself with examining the Welkynd stones she had procured, trying not to imagine.
She tried not to look at her fellow treasure-hunters-for-hire and tried to convince herself that the Bandit would not have hesitated to do the same to them if their positions were reversed.
Hrol stopped quickly, only really meaning to give the Dunmer a taste of what was to come if complete compliance wasn't given.
'I think he's ready,' Hrol called out. Cassandra stepped forward and cast a bolt of Dispel at the Bandit. The twin purple lights came out of her hand, spinning around each other as if in dance and leaving a wake of purple sparks behind them.
They hit the Dunmer in the chest, and released him from the Silence spell. 'I'll tell you anything!' the Dunmer shrieked as soon as he regained the use of his voice. Cassandra thought she could see tears.
Shalz knelt so he was inches above the prone Dunmer's face. 'How many more of you are there?' he asked. 'Eight more,' the terrified Dunmer replied. 'Two Khajiit Bowmen, three Redguards, a Breton Mage and two other Dunmers…'
Hrol whistled. Shalz looked impatient, as though angry they would have to fight so many to get to the prize. 'Please,' the Dunmer cried. 'Please don't kill me!'
Shalz grinned. He got up and nodded to Hrol. Cassandra walked over so the three of them were in a line. Shalz cast another Silence spell on the Bandit. The Dunmer's eyes widened.
The Mage, Battlemage and Spellsword opened fire simultaneously. Frost, lightning and Damage Health. The Dunmer died quickly and quietly.
Cassandra lowered her hand very slowly after they were done, and looked on the body for some time.
Feeling as though she were made of lead she said nothing, and walked briskly to rejoin the other two, who were already descending the second flight of stairs.
**********
Helseth followed the Blades, staying with the Emperor. He admired the way the three Blades cut down the red-garbed assassins as they rained down upon them from their hiding places in the walls.
Though not as elegant or nearly as powerful as magic, swords had an alien grace of their own which the Conjuror appreciated.
The assassins said nothing as they attacked, save an occasional cry of 'For Lord Dagon!', and attacks were quite frequent.
Helseth quickly found himself looking concernedly at the still form of Captain Renault as one of the assassins got a strike in with his conjured weapon.
With a roar, Baurus slashed savagely at the assassin's conjured armour. Within seconds the armour vanished in a cloud of yellow dust as the assassin fell to the stone floor dead, with wounds enough to slay three.
The Emperor shook his head sadly as Glenroy checked for Renault's pulse and stood up with a grim look upon his face.
Continuing on they reached an empty room. As Baurus attempted to open the rusty gates on the far side of the room Helseth took the time to admire the Ayleid architecture.
Advanced, those Ayleids, he thought. Building Cyclopean underground cities, crafting their Welkynd and Varla stones from meteoric glass, forging their Wells from meteoric iron…
'Locked!' an irritated Baurus exclaimed. 'From the other side…'
'How about that side passage back there?' Glenroy suggested. Grunting in the affirmative the Redguard turned.
Helseth gave a little cough. The three turned to look at him. 'You have something to say?' an unfriendly Glenroy asked.
Without a word Helseth threw what looked like to the others of the group to be a small white cloud at the gates. The gates glowed yellow and the tinkle of tumblers pulling back was heard.
'There are assassins in that side-passage' the Dunmer lied. 'I just saw them with Detect Life…'
In reality, of course, the Conjuror would have sooner tasted the assassins supposedly hiding in that side passage before he'd be able to Detect them…
Looking impressed, Baurus tried again at the gates. The Emperor smiled at the young Dunmer. Glenroy said nothing.
The group continued on. Helseth breathed an internal sigh of relief. He had not expected that, and knew it was only good fortune that his Alteration was up to the monumental task of breaking that pathetic lock.
Helseth scowled internally. He could almost hear Liixa laughing...
**********
Eryl stepped onto the carriage without a word to the driver. It was raining, but the Arch-Mage's Shield spell protected his robes from the water.
With a crack of the reins the driver sent the black horses into a brisk gallop. Leyawiin was not close to the Imperial City, and the University had requested that he bring their leader there as expediently as possible.
Eryl sat and thought about Dagail. He felt an overwhelming pity for her. Only now did he know the real reason behind her visions.
He also thought about what he might learn of the Sephira. They did not seem to be particularly dangerous, if treated properly, which unfortunate Alderbaren didn't.
Still, they had destroyed the Dwemer. And the Ayleids. Who knew what else they were capable of? Were they planning something at this moment? Could they be stopped?
**********
Dagon sat on the pure white throne, fuming. Was it too much to ask of his mortal thralls to acquire a simple necklace? Granted that the necklace in question was the Amulet of Kings and therefore probably protected as a powerful and sacred relic.
Not that the Amulet really was key to stopping an invasion from Oblivion. There were no 'liminal barriers' preventing his legions of Dremora, Scamps, Clannfears, Daedroths and the like from storming Nirn.
It was also quite certainly not a relic of Akatosh.
But Neitz did not want to take the easy route, and simply begin the invasion. Performances such as this required showmanship!
He would need a new reason, a new excuse... Perhaps the Dragonfires were whatkept up the barriers, and that without an heir to relight them, the barriers between Oblivion and Mundus would weaken over time, until...
Neitz was snapped out of his thoughts by a Valkynaz. The Sephira looked down from his throne angrily.
The Dremora at the bottom of the steps cleared his throat and said, in the typical Dremora voice of metal scraping on metal, 'Lord Dagon, Mankar Cameron reports that his assassins are still attempting to take the Amulet, and that the agents in Kvatch are ready to open a Great Gate.'
Neitz groaned. How many times did Mankar have to ask permission before he began the stupid attack?!
Dagon nodded. Or rather, Neitz, in the form of a being he called Dagon and whom he had convinced Mankar to worship and believe that his true form, that of a black-clad, silver-haired teenager was a servant of this being, nodded.
The plan had been altered slightly. Now that the Dragonfires were to be included in the great farce, an attack on the Temple District would have to be planned. Just as all symphonies have their crescendos, all great wars need their climatic final battle.
Dagon's form blurred, shrank and changed colours. In his stead Neitz, now in the comfortable black robes of the Sephira, sat.
Neitz stood up, and looked around him. He had done a good job. Carac Agaialor looked magnificent, and the rest of the 'Paradise' he had promised Mankar on behalf of his Lord Dagon was beautifully created. By mortal standards, anyway.
**********
Umbacano sat at his desk in the study attic. He was scrutinizing every page of a certain purple-covered book. He needed that carving!
He had been going through every text that mentioned that damned city, and could find nothing but either passing remarks made by the ignorant or coded references made by those who knew a little more about the place.
His attention was quickly taken up the crash of a book falling. He picked up the thick book with its purple leather cover and silver clasp.
It did not look familiar to him, but then again, he reasoned, with a collection as large as his...
As he undid the clasp a few loose notes fell out. He stooped down to pick them up, when one of the caught his eye.
The name of the ruin above the charcoal sketch! It was the city he had been searching for!
Not daring to hope, he looked more closely at the page. It contained a charcoal drawing of a pillar, etched with Aldmeri and Dwemer runes.
Barely breathing, the elderly Altmer antiquarian made a copy of the sketch on a spare piece of paper, adding the picture of the carved panel he wanted.
Whoever returned from Vilverin would have quite a next mission...
Meanwhile, on his roof, a boy in black sat and laughed.