Chapter Seven
Fil was up before dawn as he had the last shift on watch. When she awoke, Riandr was surprised to find her brother had not ignored his sleeping companions and tried to solve the ruin's puzzle alone. Her expression must have said as much because he grunted angrily, "I like Myllian too much to let her be eaten by a saber cat."
Myllian laughed and mumbled, "As if that were possible."
Fil tossed Riandr a hunk of bread. "Hurry, eat this. I'm going to take a look at the carvings."
Riandr reached for the waterskin, taking a long drink. She stood and carried her bread with her to stand next to Fil. "What do you think?" she asked.
"Five pillars. Only one with a carving."
Riandr shook her head. "No. Three have carvings. Two of the carvings have fallen to the ground, see?" She pointed to where the faint image of a hawk could be seen on a rock face sticking out of the brush near a pillar.
"Well… that makes more sense." Fil moved around the small ruin. "Each of the pillars that had a carving on it has one of these in front of it." He pointed to a three sided pyramid shaped stone that held a copy of each image from the pillars. A hawk, a whale and a snake.
"Interesting," Riandr murmured as she finished the bread. She brushed the remaining crumbs from her hands and squatted down, inspecting one of the pyramid shapes. "Three choices, three pillars with carvings." She reached down and brushed aside the dirt and debris that cluttered the area at the base of the pyramid. "Look here, Fil!" She pointed excitedly at the pyramid's base.
Fil squatted next to her. "What is that?" Carved into the base of the stone was a dark triangular image. The apex of the triangle pointed directly at the stone.
"I think," Riandr grew excited, "that this is a marker. Telling us the face of the stone. Here, help me…" She put her shoulder against the stone and pushed against it. Fil reached over her shoulder to help.
"What are we doing?" he asked.
"Trying to turn the face. See?" The pyramid began to slowly rotate, grating loudly as it turned.
"Why are we doing this?"
"Because, little brother, we are trying to move the stone so the larger image that is on this pillar is the same image that the small triangle is pointing to on the pyramid."
"Oh… yes! I see!" Fil threw all his strength into it. "There. This is the hawk. Let's get the other two."
Myllian had already started on the pillar with the image of a whale. Her warrior physique needed no help to move the stone. Instead Fil went to the pillar with the image of a snake buried in the grass next to it. He pushed against the stone with his shoulder, grunting loudly. The pyramid barely moved. Riandr wanted to laugh but was afraid she would once again wound his pride, so instead she knelt down and added her strength to his. They turned the stone twice, until the image facing the small triangle was that of the snake.
Riandr and Fil glanced at each other and then at the handle near the arch. "Well?" She grinned.
Fil stood, brushing the dirt from his mage robes. He closed the distance between himself and the lever in two steps, his heart racing. It was usually at this point that his sister saved him from flames spurts or shards of ice. Riandr came to stand next to him, her eyes on the pillar and arch, searching for any signs of a trap. She shrugged. There was nothing apparent to her. Fil grinned, gathering his nerve.
Myllian stepped away from the ruin, onto the brush. She had a strange feeling Fil was a bit cursed when it came to traps. From their experience in Xarthias he seemed to inadvertently spring a lot of them.
Fil grinned and then winked at Myllian. He reached forward, his hand gripping the handle, counted to three and then turned. At first it seemed as if nothing happened. No flame shot from the arch, no darts skewered him from the pillar. Then suddenly there was a loud creaking sound. The sound of ancient metal forced to move after a millennium of stillness.
"Hey, what the…" was all Myllian had time to say before the ground fell out beneath her.
"Myllian!" Fil cried. He and Riandr raced to where their friend had stood. Where a moment before there had been earth and brush there was now a perfectly circular hole in the ground. They both peered over the edge, fearing the worst, to find Myllian sprawled on a wooden spiral staircase, covered in dirt and brush. She glared at Fil.
"Myllian! I'm so glad you're not dead!" Fil tried not to laugh, but found it extremely difficult.
"You will pay for this, mage… in Talos' name I swear." Myllian stood, brushing clumps of dirt and brush from her armor.
Riandr glanced at her brother. "You know she will kill you for this."
Fil sighed without taking his eyes off of Myllian. "I know. But look at her." He shot a look at his sister and caught her trying to control her laughter. "See! Almost worth it, isn't it?"
"So, My…" Fil coughed to hide his amusement. "While you're down there, see anything?"
Myllian gave him a look that would stop a mammoth in its tracks and then she sighed and glanced over the stairs. "There is something. It looks big. Hold on…" she continued down the stairs and out of sight. "Oh! Oh. Oh…"
Fil tried to assess her comments. First was surprise. Second curiosity. Third sadness. He still had no clue. "What is it?" He grew frustrated when she did not immediately respond. "Never mind I'm coming down." He was over the edge and down the stairs before Riandr could form a protest.
He followed the staircase for only a moment before it came to an abrupt end. There was a small alcove with a large chest; a taut line of cord went from the chest's lid to the ground. Next to the chest was a skeleton, one of its boney hands on the lid, the other holding a small bottle.
"Sis. We may need you."
Myllian sighed. "I will stand watch above. You two can figure this out."
Fil nodded, not letting his attention wander from the chest. It only took a moment for Riandr to join him. Her reaction was similar to his and Myllian's. "How sad."
"Horrible actually. Do you think the chest holds treasure? Do you think he chose to guard it forever?" Fil bent down to examine the remains.
Riandr took a closer look at the chest, the rigid line of cord that ended in a small metal trap that was bolted to the stone floor. There were also bits of metal scattered about the lock and the vault floor. Without looking at him she replied, "No, Fil. I do not. I think he was a lot like you, however he did not have me to protect him."
Fil glanced at his sister, unable to argue with her. "Can you pick it?"
Riandr glanced at the trap and nodded. "Just give me a moment." She reached into a small pocket of her armor and produced a lock pick and her small tension wrench. She set to work, listening to the tiny bolts in the trap's spring. Her hands moved slowly, caressing the bolts, cajoling them, enticing them to open for her. The line gave way with a soft snap. She stood then, moving away from the chest. Her brother received such joy from opening a chest and pilfering its contents, almost as much as she did in disarming the trap. She would not rob him of that.
Fil eagerly lifted the lid of the chest, delving into its contents. He handed her a tome, two coin bags bursting with septims, a steel dagger and two vials. "Let's see," he shook the vials, staring at their contents. "Potion of healing, vigorous from the looks of it. And a potion of stamina. Very nice." He placed the vials in his bag, taking the tome from her. He ran his hand over the leather binding, lovingly tracing the runes on the face with his fingers. He opened the volume and grinning, whistled loudly. "'A Hypothetical Treachery'. I've always wanted to read this!"
Riandr tossed the sacs of coin up to Myllian and then turned to her brother. "You ready?"
Fil reached for the vial the skeleton held in its hand, examining the bottle. "Empty."
Riandr motioned toward the stairs. Fil followed her, wondering aloud, "Why was he here? What was he doing?"
Riandr sighed. "My guess? He was like you, little brother. A keen treasure seeker. He solved the exterior puzzle and gained entrance to the vault. Did you notice the broken lock picks scattered around the room?"
Fil shook his head. How had he missed those?
"I think our friend failed to pick the trap, triggering it instead. The gates above him closed, locking him in. After a moment or two the puzzle reset. Our friend meanwhile was trapped below. He must have tried again and again to disarm the trap, using every pick he had. But the gate remained shut. He could not escape. If our friend was a hopeful sort, then that vial contained healing potion. He would probably take a sip every few days, to stay alive, praying that someone would pass by and with his help, solve the puzzle and free him."
Fil paused on the stairs, staring at the skeleton. "And if he wasn't hopeful?"
"Then poison," she replied. "Enough to end his life quickly when he knew all was lost."
Fil stared at the bones a moment longer and then shuddered. He turned away and moved swiftly up the last few steps. He caught up with Riandr as she passed through the ruins toward camp. "I am glad I have you, sister," Fil murmured.
Riandr looked at Fil and replied, "And I you, brother." And for a moment they were ten years old again, living on the streets of Riften, with nothing to count on but each other.
They found Myllian dumping sand on the last of the fire's embers. "Ready?" she asked.
They nodded and after gathering their belongings, headed back toward the road. The morning sun made the grassy plains glow, the rusted tufts of grass swaying gently. She could hear the thunderous footsteps of the mammoths as they worked their way through the grass, enjoying their morning meal. Scanning the plains she tried to locate the large beasts and hopefully steer clear of them and their giant companions, however they were no where to be found. The plains carried sound for miles. Shaking her head she reminded herself not to worry too much. She would know if they were coming abreast of the large beasts when she felt their footsteps shake the ground beneath her feet.
It was almost midday when they came upon the fork in the road that would lead them to Falkreath. They could either stay on the road they followed, heading north to Rorikstead or turn south. This road would eventually take them to Riften, however she did not intend to follow it that far. A few miles south the road branched west. They would follow that and be in Falkreath by tomorrow. If she was lucky, they wouldn't find a single tomb along the way.
"Ri, look." Fil pointed off the road to their right.
She glanced to where he pointed to find an enormous circular mound, easily thirty feet in diameter, filled with packed dirt and surrounded by three stone arches. Almost as one they paused, each aware of what they were seeing.
Myllian spoke softly, almost whispering, "I used to play Dragon hunter on the burial mound near Solitude."
"It's funny. I know I've seen that mound a hundred times before. I've seen so many dragon burial sites; I've even studied them at the Mage's College." Fil paused uncertain how to explain what he was feeling. "Dragons were myth, legend. Their power had left the world. They were simply a creature long dead, mystical yes, interesting absolutely, but not much more than that. But now…"
Myllian nodded. "Now they live. Now they destroy."
Fil paused for a moment and then he asked aloud the question on all their minds, "Do you know how many burial sites there are in Skyrim?"
Riandr turned to him, the thought sobering. There were more than she cared to count. There was one or two located outside of every major city. Many more located in the mountains and plains of each hold. If dragons were to return to Skyrim, in that number? She couldn't imagine devastation on that scale.
Myllian held her breath, the dragon mound near Solitude and her home flashing before her eyes. Her parents still lived there, had their shops there. The thought of a dragon laying waste to her city, to her family and friends, made her head spin. She reached for her axe, laying a hand on the weapon's grip. It was an instinctive reaction, it helped her feel in control of a situation she had no control over.
Riandr tore her gaze away from the mound. "Let's move on. I'd like to get through the mountain pass by sundown."
Myllian turned to follow Riandr, her thoughts consumed by her fear for her family. It took her a moment to realize Fil still stood, staring at the mound. She moved back to his side, nudging him. "Let's go, mage; we can't do any good here."
Fil nodded, and then slowly turned from the mound, matching his pace to Myllian's longer gait. "Do you have family, warrior?"
Myllian nodded, her tone was somber when she spoke. "Yes, in Solitude. My parents and my little brother live there."
Fil laughed, "Little brother, eh? I hear they can be a handful."
"He is considerably younger than I am. Though he does tend to follow me around like a puppy whenever I get a chance to visit."
"I should think so! You're a warrior! Glittery armor, massive shiny axe! You're probably like a god to him."
Myllian laughed. "My ma says I'm a bad influence on him. Making him want to be a warrior and all. Not something safe like an alchemist, or a bard or a smith like my pa." She shrugged and added sadly, "Maybe I am."
Fil touched her arm and with great sincerity, disagreed. "Nonsense. Your brother will be whatever he is meant to be. Warrior, mage, poet. It will be his decision. Not yours. But if he turns out to be half the remarkable person you are, Myllian, he should consider himself lucky."
Myllian blushed, embarrassed by the mage's praise.
"Besides," he sighed, "I know many an alchemist who met their end out searching for herbs because they didn't take the time to learn the basics of self-defense. Fools."
Myllian stopped for a moment, surprised that that thought had never entered her mind. "That's true! And if my little brother learns enough swordplay and archery from me so he can at least protect himself…"
"Then he will be far better off then if he stayed…"
"A milk drinker!" Myllian added passionately.
"Absolutely." Fil grinned at his friend.
Myllian turned to the mage, ecstatic. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The relief filled her with a wonderful euphoria and she suddenly had a strange desire to grab the mage and kiss him. She blushed, dark red at the thought, and before she could act on the impulse lengthened her stride, catching up to Riandr.
They continued on the road, heading south. It rose before them, bordered on each side by trees and brush. The road itself had at one time consisted of solid stone, set meticulously in the earth to form a solid, level traveling surface. However the Great War had bled the Empire almost to death and there was now no money for road engineers or labors to maintain these passages. Pushed from the earth by years of neglect and the dramatic Skyrim season changes, the stone now jutted out of the ground at interesting angles, making traversing the passage an adventure in itself. When they reached the base of the mountain, the road began a steep incline and their pace slowed considerably. Fil's constant scavenging for alchemic materials didn't help matters.
"Do you like flowers then, mage?" Back in control of her actions, Myllian couldn't stop the mocking grin that played with her lips.
Fil nodded, unabashed. "Why yes I do, warrior." He bowed and offered Myllian a bouquet of mountain blooms. "For you, milady."
Myllian laughed. "Why thank you, kind sir." The sun had warmed the petals so their scent was a mixture of sweetness and honey.
"My pleasure, fair maiden. Do you know what these flowers are used for?" Fil asked.
Myllian shook her head. "I am no alchemist, sir, only a simple warrior." She played with the petals of a blue flower.
"Would you like to learn?" Fil offered. "I've been told I am a fairly good instructor and much like an alchemist who is more likely to survive with warrior skills, a warrior would be better armed if she knew how to heal herself with a few simple herbs."
Myllian nodded, enthusiastically. "Yes! I'm not sure why I've never taken the time to study…" an image of her mother pleading with her to study her alchemic lessons, popped into her head. The local alchemist, Angeline Morrard had offered repeatedly to give Myllian lessons, but all she had been able to think of was swordplay. The last thing she had wanted to do was sit in a dark room with an old lady, nice as she may be, studying the effects of a butterfly wing on an open wound. She shook her head, grinning ruefully, regretting that decision. "I think a general knowledge of plants and their abilities could be quite useful to a warrior."
"Agreed." Fil cleared his throat, schooling his thoughts. "All right. First off, what three flowers do you hold?"
"Let's see. Purple, blue and red mountain wild flowers."
"Very good."
As they continued forward Riandr kept her eyes on the forest surrounding them. The trees that towered above them had grown thinner, but the underbrush was thick as fog, preventing Riandr from seeing even more than a few feet past the road's edge. She allowed Fil to focus on his lessons and kept her senses strained for the sound of movement, a predator stalking them through the brush. Her skills in alchemy were possibly as good as her brother's; though she specialized in poisons. Fil had trained in all manner of potion crafting and was by far the better teacher.
"Do you believe all three flowers have the same properties?"
Myllian took a closer look at the buds. The colors were different, as were the shape of their petals and their scents. "My guess is no."
"Correct! Each flower usually has four different alchemic uses. Wait… let's back track. There are three major groups when it comes to alchemic ingredients. There are grown ingredients, ingredients that are alive and those taken from an enemy's corpse."
"Hmmm," Myllian nodded, "like a giant's toe."
"Exactly!" Fil nodded excitedly. "Now each of these ingredients can be combined to create a potion or poison. The trick is…"
Riandr stopped short, raising her hand for silence. Fil halted immediately, his senses instantly alert. Myllian reached for her axe, silently removing it.
She held her breath. Had she heard something? It sounded like a human voice, muffled, indistinct, but definitely human. She dropped to her crouch and moved closer to the forest to their right. A few feet ahead of them, like a small scar in the otherwise thick undergrowth, lay a dirt path that wound into the wood. Moving to the mouth of the path she waited a moment, hoping to hear the sound again.
"Please…"
There it was! It was definitely human, and male. The man's tone gave her the impression he was in great pain. Keeping her guard up, it wouldn't be the first time a bandit tried to use sympathy to lure her into an ambush; she motioned to the others to follow and worked her way down the dirt path. They were quickly swallowed up by the forest, the path in front of them meandering for a bit before emptying out into a small clearing. To their left the trees fell away, offering a clear view of the valley below. To their right was the large mouth of a cave, she could smell the stale air mixed with blood wafting from the opening. Directly in front of them a few downed trees had been moved to form a bench of sorts. Seated on the tree trunk was a Nord man. His blonde hair and leather armor were covered with blood. He tried to gesture to them to come closer and was barely able to lift his arm.
Riandr swiftly moved to the man's side, Fil and Myllian right behind her. "What happened?" she asked.
The man took a breath to steady himself. "Thank the gods. I didn't think I would make it out of here."
"What happened?" Riandr needed to assess the situation, introductions could wait.
"I was part of a hunting party. We tracked a bear to this cave. But when my friends and I entered there weren't just bears waiting inside. Creatures… like living trees! My friends were cut down in front of me before I could help them. I barely made it out alive."
"How many are inside? Could they still be alive?"
The man shook his head. "No. They were dead before I could crawl out. I don't think I can make it much longer. Gods I've never seen so much blood." The man was growing steadily paler as his life's blood spilt upon the ground.
Fil reached for Myllian's bouquet. "Here is some real life training, warrior. Quickly, give me the blue flowers." Myllian yanked the blue flowers from the bouquet, tossing the rest to the ground.
"Pull the petals from the stem."
She yanked the flowers free, handing a fist full of brightly colored petals to the mage. Fil turned to the dying man. "Now I want you to bite down on these. Don't swallow, just bite down and let the juice from the petals mix with your own saliva. Then swallow the liquid, not the flesh. Do you understand?"
The man nodded as best he could. It was a pathetic attempt.
Fil pressed the petals into the man's mouth, giving him a moment to form the healing juice. He waited until the Nord swallowed before bringing his hands together and uttering a few indistinguishable words under his breath. His palms began to glow with a soft light that reminded Riandr of early morning sunlight. Fil allowed his magicka to fill him, the power of the healing spell washed over him, its warmth almost inebriating. When he felt as if he might burst with sunlight, he reached out and placed his hands on the man's brow.
The hunter arched his back, his body instantly rigid. Fil could sense the hunter's pain through their connection; feel the healing spell rush through him into the hunter, knitting together the man's torn flesh and sinew. But as the spell filled the hunter with warmth and healing, it also drew from him much of his pain. Through their connection the spell transferred that pain to Fil. As if experiencing the attack himself Fil could feel his flesh tear, his blood spill. His knees buckled slightly at its intensity. He ignored the pain, focusing instead on repairing the hunter's torn muscle and flesh.
When Myllian asked of him later what it felt like, he could only describe it as the prick of a thousand needles. Excruciatingly painful for a few moments that felt as if they might last an eternity and then, as Fil released it from himself, blessed relief. He knew the moment the spell died off, felt the man's pain slowly diminish to nothing. Fil found the look of gratitude on the hunter's face almost as warming as the healing spell.
"Thank you, healer," the hunter's tone was weary, but stronger. "I don't think I'd have survived much longer."
Fil nodded. "My pleasure. You will still feel weak and lightheaded for a few days. Nothing strenuous for a week or you'll tear those wounds open again."
The hunter nodded. "But my friends? I can't leave their bodies in there to be torn apart by those animals!"
Riandr shook her head. "You are staying here. We will see to your friends."
Myllian glanced at her, a smile covering her face. "I can handle the bears."
Fil glanced at his sister and said, "Spriggans as well."
Riandr nodded. "I will go with you," at the warrior's protest she added, "just as a precaution! Spriggans are not an easy kill. And if you miss any loot that might be in there, Fil will have a fit!"
The mage laughed. "Listen to my sister, warrior. You take care of the bears; let her help you with the spriggans. And while you're killing all that evil, keep an eye out for swag." He turned to the hunter who was having trouble keeping his eyes open. "We could perhaps donate it to your friend's families? I'm sure they will need help keeping food on the table with the loss of their providers."
The man nodded. "Yes. Thank you again."
Riandr motioned to Fil to stay put, the look her gave her warned her to be careful. She and Myllian moved toward the mouth of the cave. A chill breeze hit them as they stood at the cavern's entrance. It carried the scent of moist earth, decay and the strong odor of blood. Riandr entered first, crouched and ready against an attack. Myllian followed, her grip on the Dwarven blade steady.
Riandr's eyes adjusted quickly to the change in light. The scene before her made her wish they had not. The cave opened into a small circular room, the remnants of a campfire in the center. Next to the camp fire were the remains of woman, obviously one of the hunter's friends. She lay, pale and still in a large pool of her own blood, its metallic scent filling the air. Myllian moved toward the woman, crouching next to her. Riandr heard the warrior whisper a quiet prayer for Talos' blessing over the body. She wondered again at finding such a devoted Talos worshiper in a Redguard. The loud growl of a hungry bear echoing off the cavern's walls refocused her attention.
Silently, she moved further into the cave and as she did the distinct buzzing of a thousand insects filled the air. Having dealt with spriggans before she was all too familiar with what that sound heralded. She raised a hand to Myllian, gesturing to her to move away. The warrior silently crept to the opposite side of the cavern.
The rock tunnel ahead of them narrowed quickly and traveled for twenty feet or so before emptying into a larger cavern, but a wide shelf of rock ran above them, along the walls on either side of the gap. Up on the ledge, only a stone's throw ahead of them a tree had fallen on its side, providing a high bridge to cross over above the narrow alleyway. Riandr motioned to Myllian that she would take the high shelf, allowing Myllian to use the entire tunnel for her axe swing. Myllian nodded and then worked her way quietly down the stone passageway.
Riandr moved toward the shelf on her left, silently working her way up its path. The buzzing grew louder with each step she took. Silence and the Elven blade were in her hands, Silence aching with the desire for blood. Riandr hoped the blade would not be disappointed that spriggans did not have blood. As she rounded the top of the stone shelf she saw the spriggan before her. The creature stood close to the ledge's edge, staring down at the rock tunnel below. Spriggans were a bizarre mixture of tree roots, vines and earth, held together in the loose shape of a woman. Given life by the very forest they inhabited they were always accompanied by bear, wolf or saber cats. Their fingers, made of hardened wood and vine, ended in vicious thorny talons. They could also throw a dangerous spell of destruction at you, while their companion insects swarmed over you, draining you of your blood and your life. Spriggans were not to be toyed with.
Riandr crept up on this one, using what shadow she could find. She could tell the moment it spotted Myllian in the tunnel below. Its body stiffened and the insects that surrounded it began to buzz in an almost impossible tempo. Just as the spriggan lifted its hand to cast its spell, Riandr leapt. Fire was the best way to deal with a spriggan, however she had none. Instead she chose the old fashioned method and stabbed the creature repeatedly with both blades, cutting through root and vine, decimating it. When she was certain the creature was dead, she moved to the ledge's edge, peering over the side. Myllian stood a few feet below her, axe ready.
"Everything all right?" she whispered.
Riandr nodded. She searched the spriggan's body, finding a nice piece of taproot for her brother. Placing it in her satchel, she worked her way to the fallen log and used it to cross over to the other side of the cavern where the fern covered ledge continued further into the cave. The dark cramped tunnel below her continued only a few feet further before ending abruptly, opening into the cave's sunlight central chamber.
The chamber was circular and lit by rays of brilliant sunlight that streamed from an opening in the cavern's ceiling. A large waterfall flowed from the same gap, creating a deep pool in the center of the room. To their right the ledge continued along the wall, ending in a point just above the pool. Every surface of the cavern was covered in moss, ferns, or trees. A few of the trees in the center of the cave grew taller than many of the homes in Whiterun. Butterflies of every hue flittered in and out of the sun's rays.
Spriggans were spirits of the forest and whether they created the forest to live or the forest created them to protect it Riandr couldn't say. However she had to admit wherever they existed, the forest surrounding them was incredibly beautiful.
Myllian motioned to Riandr, drawing her attention away from the cavern's beauty directing it instead toward the yawning bear a few yards in front of them. Dark brown and as big as a small horse, the bear stretched lazily next to the lifeless body of a hunter. Myllian held her axe steady as she moved closer. There were many ways to handle a bear. Arrow from afar, grabble and stab or perhaps her favorite, a heavy blow to the head. One swing, done just right, would crush the bear's skull. She felt the rush as she neared her prey. One overhanded swing. It took longer, to round the blade back and over her head, but the added momentum would bring the edge of her axe crashing into the bear's skull with the power of a landslide. She flexed her thigh muscles, prepping them for her lunge. The power of this attack was centered on her legs and her axe arm. The axe, once in motion, would carry itself, but she needed to lunge forward with surety and power. There were perhaps five steps between her and the bear; she intended to use each one to build up her momentum and force. Adjusting her grip, she started the blade's backward swing just as she left her crouch. Springing forward she crossed the distance between her and the bear in five steps, the blade racing through its arc, building up power and speed.
The bear raised his great head, only becoming aware of her in the split second before the axe finished its downward rush, crashing into the bear's skull, killing him instantly. Myllian found the resounding crunch rewarding.
Riandr moved silently along the cavern's ledge, high above the cavern floor. She could hear the buzzing again and was not surprised that it grew louder as she approached a small group of trees. Even with her years of training she did not see the spriggan until it pulled itself from the bark of one of the trees below her. It stood staring up at her and though it could not physically reach her up on the ledge, it sent a swarm of insects racing towards her, to cover her. Riandr panicked for a moment. The insects could not pierce her armor, but they swarmed around her face, blocking her vision, their deafening buzz drowning out any other sound. She clamped her eyes and mouth shut, knowing the bugs would try to tear at the weak flesh of her eyes, or swarm in her mouth, effectively choking her. Instead she braced herself, and though she could no longer see where the spriggan was, she leaped off the ledge, aiming for the spot where she had last seen the creature.
Instinct and training paid off, she hit the spriggan dead center, her blades cutting a swath of devastation through the creature's torso. Its cry of pain was music to Riandr's ears. The majority of the insects had been taken by surprise when Riandr leapt and not followed her. She took a chance and opened her eyes, stabbing into the creature repeatedly with her blades. The spriggan continued to cry out, the sound more like the angry buzz of a hundred bees than a human cry. It tried to scratch Riandr, tried to call its insect army to its aid, but it grew weaker with every blow until all that was left of the spirit was torn bits of shrubbery. Myllian came racing toward her, breathing heavily, axe at the ready.
Her gaze took in the torn bits of spriggan littering the trail. "Well… that's one way I suppose…" she murmured.
Riandr shook dead insects out from under her hood and inside her ears. "Cleared?" She motioned toward the rest of the cave and Myllian nodded.
"There was another one of these," the warrior gestured toward the remains of the spriggan, "over there. I took care of her though."
Riandr grinned. "Well done! Now I need to search for treasure."
"Do they have treasure? What would they do with it?"
Riandr laughed. "They always have treasure. Most of it I think comes from their victims. I am not sure they do anything with it. Just keep it." From her assessment of the chamber there was only one likely place for the spriggans to hide their bounty. Climbing up to the ledge, she followed the mossy path until it came to an end at an outcropping that hung high over the large pool beneath the waterfall. A chest lay nestled in the moss, its brass lock calling out to her. Her fingers tingled in excitement as she worked the lock. It opened far too easily for her liking. Inside the chest Riandr found a pair of ebony boots, a few potions and a staff and a steel sword. She sighed, these were valuable items, which meant her brother was going to regret offering up the cave's treasures to the hunter's families. He would honor his offer, but he would be grouchy for days. A soft sparkle from the pool below her caught her attention.
"Myllian…"
"Yes, boss?" The warrior was by her side in an instant. "Can you take these for me? I think there is something at the bottom of the pool."
"Want me to get it?" Myllian offered. "I'm a great swimmer."
Riandr shook her head, gesturing to the warrior's glittering metal armor. "I think my armor will be slightly easier to swim in."
Myllian shrugged. "I'll wait for you by the exit then." The warrior moved off, carrying the extensive amount of treasure with ease.
Riandr stood on the ledge, looking down into the water. Rays of sunlight danced across the pond's surface, causing the water below to appear alternately deep blue and then crystal clear. A quick flash of gold in the water made her grin. Yes, there was definitely something down there. She took three large breaths, stretching out her lungs and then dove into the water. The cold water stung the skin on her face, but the rest of her body felt comfortably cool, protected by her armor. Swimming deeper, she quickly saw what it was that had caught her attention. The skeletal remains of a long forgotten warrior rested on the bottom of the pool, a nameless victim of the spriggans. The skeleton's bones had begun to melt into the sandy bottom of the pool, its armor completely gone. Riandr had to assume it had been poorly treated hide or leather and eventually disintegrated in the water. However the warrior still held tightly to its metal shield and sword. She reached for the armaments, grasped them firmly and then pushed off the sandy bottom, kicking as hard as she could. It was slower swimming with a shield and sword, but she made it to the pool's edge where Myllian waited. The warrior took the shield from her, examining it closely.
"Elven. Beautifully crafted."
"This as well." Riandr held up the sword that gleamed as brightly as the day it was made. The sword, made of quicksilver and moonstone, was thick at the shoulder, grew narrow toward the center of the blade, only to widen again at the tip. Its edges were remarkably sharp, as was the beautiful etched design that ran along the shoulder and the guard. The grip, covered in leather, was thinner than she would have liked, however she could not argue with the weapon's balance and effectiveness.
"Beautiful," Myllian remarked.
They made their way toward the cavern's exit, each carrying an armful of treasure. "Your brother is not going to be happy," Myllian said, sighing. "Giving away all this…"
Riandr laughed. "No. Not at all."
"He's going to be ill-tempered now, isn't he?" Myllian sighed again.
"Utterly," Riandr agreed.
"There's no way we can get out of it. We've got to find him a tomb to plunder!" Myllian's tone was almost pleading.
It was Riandr's turn to sigh as she abandoned any hope of an uneventful trip to Falkreath. "I agree, or both of us will be forced to deal with his sulking."
"I'd rather face a pack of irritable trolls!" Myllian grumbled.
"Ah… if only!" Riandr laughed, knowing her moody brother was often considerably more difficult to handle.
