Author's notes: Oblivion and all its characters, places, events, etcetera are property of Bethesda Softworks. Ailirah is the PC that completes the main quest – youngest of five and the only girl. One of her bothers was alluded to earlier, as the head of the Fighter's Guild. She's picked up bad habits form all four brothers, including bad language and the inability to just walk away from a fight.
--
Chapter Twenty-Four: All for Oblivion
--
I knew something was wrong before I got all the way up the winding road to Kvatch. The sky overhead was red, and split with what looked like purple lightning, frozen in place, stars shining beyond the red miasma. The sun and moons were all blocked – and there was a thick, choking smell of smoke and something else…brimstone.
Halfway up the path I found the refugee camp – that was the only thing it could have been. People huddling together in makeshift tents, some praying , many sobbing, women clutching their children, children clutching their parents, husbands clutching their wives: all in all a desperate sort of scene.
I tied up my horse to a tree and patted him and unloaded my gear from his saddlebags. It looks like the shit has finally hit the ceiling – I knew it, I just knew it. My stomach churned slightly.
"What's happening?" I demanded, accosting the first individual who was not in hysterics - a priest, by his clothes.
He looked at me, fatalistic, despondent.
"I asked you what was going on, priest," I repeated firmly, giving him a little shake. I was not being threatening, simply firm.
"What is happening –can you not see, my lady?" he waved towards the hill upon which Kvatch sat, smoke billowing up to touch the reddened sky. "It is…the end," he said bleakly. "Hope is gone. The Covenant is broken..."
I let him go. Forget covenants and hope-gones – I wanted to know why the damn city was on fire! I had Family in there! This thought put me back in my proper state of mind –that is, a state of mind where I could shove fear and everything else aside in favor of clear thinking, and getting things done.
And I wasn't going to get anything done, just standing here.
"My lady!"
"I have Family in there!" I said briskly.
The priest came to himself long enough to seize my arm before I could stride off. "My lady, many of us had family there...but it is unlikely that any of them have survived! The Chapel is cast down, and the faithful...my friends...all dead…you must not go that way!"
I shook him off, but rather gently. "I can't accept that, until I find their charred corpses myself," I said. "Who's in charge up there?" I pointed at the rising road.
"Savlian Matius…" the priest looked like he was going to try to discourage me again.
"If anyone follows and is willing to help – speed them along," I said and checked my gear.
Sufferthorn was at my hip, where it belonged, I had a bow in my hand, and a quiver full of blue-fletched arrows – my signature color, to distinguish my shots from Tel's. They had been a gift from Tel, incidentally…after I'd killed Dreth. I had poisons and potions all arrayed in the small slots on my belt. My magicka tingled in my fingertips when I called it.
I trotted up the path, pulling an arrow and fitting it to the bowstring as I trotted along. I had no idea what to expect, only that whatever it was probably going to be nasty…I closed my eyes, hoping that the Family inside was all right. I'd never met them...but after all, Family is Family.
And we had lost enough.
--S--
The long road up to Kvatch was like a road straight to Oblivion itself…and ended in a fortified position outside the Kvatch gates…and between the fortified barricades and the gates themselves was a massive structure, like lava, hardened into a sort of crude frame, supporting a fiery mirror – only instead of reflecting back the scene of carnage around it, it seemed to lead…straight into the heart of Oblivion. Flames and smoke added to the hot, acrid air, and the ground itself was cracked and dry and burned.
Scarred.
I aimed and released an arrow without really thinking, and it struck a…a scamp, I realized as it flew backwards, my shaft buried it its wasted chest. I trotted up. "Who's in charge here?" I asked briskly, selecting another arrow.
"I am –who the hell are you?" a man wearing the chainmail and heraldry of Kvatch itself asked, his eyes narrowed beneath his chainmail head cover.
"Help, perhaps," I said blandly. "What's going on?"
"The city's been overrun by Daedra –what's it look like? This isn't a tourist's trap, woman, get back to the refugee's camp!"
I let another arrow fly, unconcerned by the guard's ranting. "Would you really turn away my help?" I asked as another scamp flew back. "I'm no civilian – I happen to be a member of the Mages' Guild," I lowered my bow, and selected another arrow. "Your Daedra, there, are very vulnerable to spells of ice, and shock. May I clear the field?" I asked, feeling my heart rate jump. I could see where the Daedra were coming from now - they were huddled behind the Gate, charging forward one or two at a time. Stalling tactics, I realized.
"You…what?"
"I'll take that as a yes, hold this," I shoved my bow at the guard who was so chatty and unpinned my cloak, letting it flutter as I trotted forward. Scamps and clannfear, I can handle - and within moments I had dropped the dozen or so Daedra- and one Dremora – with well-placed ice spells, or with Sufferthorn.
I moved back to the fortifications, wobbling slightly. I am not used to casting like that…particularly with spells from the Destructive school…but it had to be done…otherwise, sooner or later, one of the amassed Daedra would slip past, and then it would be a melee fight, and I had doubts about the soldiers. It seemed like one good scare would send them running, which made me suspect they had been at this for awhile. "What now?" I asked, picking up my cloak and putting it back on, then reclaiming my bow from the stunned guard.
He was goggling at me.
"I have bought you only a little time!" I said sharply. "This Gate…" I waved and there was a yelp as two of the soldiers unleashed arrows. One missed, the other wounded a charging clannfear. I aimed but did not need to loose the shaft. The one who had wounded it had let off a second shot which struck the clannfear in the throat, killing it. It hit the ground and skidded several feet to stop in a puff of dust.
It was so hot up here –and I was wearing my cloak, only for fear of losing it along the way. Sweat was beginning to bead up on my forehead and I knew that within minutes I'd be drenched, just like everyone else. The casting had taken quite a bit out of me, but not enough to put me out of the fight. I looked at the Gate, looming like a hellish maw between me and the Family.
"What's been done so far?" I asked, eyeing the Gate's dancing, flame like edges, until my eyes watered.
"Send a patrol in…haven't heard anything from them. They haven't come out…" it was obvious he felt he had committed his men to die. I felt cold calm settling over me, as I shoved adrenaline and fear, and the general 'keyed up' feelings associated with this sort of situation out of the way.
I needed to be able to think. To reason.
Another scamp burst out of the Gate and I raised my bow. "I've got it," I said aloud, calmly and let the shaft fly. "We can't very well just stand here," I said calmly. "How long since your patrol went in there?" I sighted in and picked off another scamp. It made me uneasy that they were starting to trickle out of the Gate again. "Ugh. What is all this?" I asked myself – meaning 'what is all this about'. I've never heard of Gates to Oblivion just cropping up arbitrarily…
"A damned inconvenience," an annoyed but competent voice declared with a bit of a snort if irritation.
I turned.
Huffing up behind us was a young woman, with red hair – or, I think it was red, it was hard to tell with the funny light - bound back in two thick braids which hung just past her shoulder blades. She looked from me to the guard with large brown eyes, and a face that seemed more given to smiles than the determined frown she was wearing now. "I'm looking for the priest, Martin…" she said, addressing the city guard, though she continued to look at me. "I didn't see him in the camp…"
"Not here, you won't find him," the head guard – Savlian Matius, I both remembered and by now suspected – said shaking his head. "We can't get into the city, the damned Gate is in the way," he motioned irritably. "Look, I sent in a patrol nearly a half-hour ago, but no one's come out," he said, putting us all on the same page.
I grit my teeth.
Be careful what you volunteer for. I was about to say 'then I'll go have a look', when the girl spoke up.
"I'll go."
"I'll go," I said over her.
She snorted. "The way I see it," she produced a pair of battle axes, from her belt perhaps a little longer than my Blade of Woe and twirled them easily, though not as if they were her primary weapons. "You're a ranged fighter," she ceased the twirl of axes, "you'll be better off here with the rest!"
"Yes, well, forgive me for saying but you haven't got the look of an arcane practitioner and those," I pointed to her weapons, "are not well-spelled. If you go in there, you're facing the wastes of Oblivion itself. It is not for the inexperienced –particularly when the inexperienced is one person. Did you not hear what Matius said?"
"Kh - stuff it!" the woman snapped, and I was reminded forcibly of Gogron – no regard for the odds. I had to smile slightly. "I'm Fighter's Guild, and fully qualified! This kind of thing is my job!"
I laughed, and she scowled.
"It's not funny," she said flatly.
Damn – and I get stuck with the gung ho volunteer. "Oh yes it is - we'll both go, then, as you're so determined," it made sense. I could use the help – I didn't much fancy trying to take on an entire Oblivion Gate by myself, not knowing what was on the other side…though it was looking more and more like I didn't have much choice, unless I wanted to sit here on Kvatch's doorstep and pick off scamps until I ran out of arrows.
I turned to Matius. "It's your lucky day. It seems you have a pair of volunteers. Hold this spot – don't go anywhere, we'll be back soon."
"Just the two of you, now wait a minute…" Matius sputtered.
"We have no time," I said and I strode forward after unpinning my cloak and throwing it back over the fortifications.
"No kidding. I like your style, though," the other girl…woman, I suppose I ought to say, smiled. "I'm Ailirah."
"Call. me…Dagmar."
"Dagmar?"
"I know," I said flatly and shook my head.
"So…what are you? Fighters' Guild? Arena?" Ailirah asked.
I realized where I'd heard the name – unless there were more than one Ailirah in the Empire, this was the same Ailirah who had escaped the Imperial Prison. "Mages' Guild," I answered blandly as we walked forward. I readied my bow and Ailirah twirled her axes again. "I'm looking for family. You?"
"Looking for a priest," she said and chuckled. "And no – I can't look elsewhere."
"Well, you might want to consider it…damn that's a big sucker…" I said before I could stop myself
"Uh huh…that sums it up pretty well…you sure you want to go first?" Ailirah looked over at me.
"Not really," I muttered so only Ailirah would hear me. She chuckled, and I continued, louder, "I'll be fine," I said, with a confidence I did not feel. I turned. "Give us more than just an hour! If we're not back…by dark…" I made a very final-looking movement with my hand –though I was not sure what I was telling them to do, in actuality. But the soldiers looked heartened and Matius saluted to Ailirah and I as we turned.
"How…do we get in?"she asked as we drew closer, her tone shaking slightly.
"Just walk through, like you would with any door. It shouldn't burn you," I grabbed her arm and let the spell against fire ripple over both of us. "But just to be safe," I added, and Ailirah nodded.
"Yeah," she chuckled nervously, "I like safe, too."
We stepped together through the Gate, and suffered a moment's worth of disorientation and dizziness.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
--S--
Oblivion was a harsh place – the air scorched and I immediately wished my armor was lighter. Yes, I was wearing my shrouded armor –had felt a little exposed about doing so – but fortunately, with the current problems, people didn't seem to particularly care. I was not, however, wearing my hood and cowl, so that might possibly account for part of the acceptance. Dark leather wasn't in and of itself illegal, after all.
"Whoa…" Ailirah looked around, some of her cocky demeanor vanishing. "What the hell…?"
"Close enough..." I answered.
The windswept planes of Oblivion were stifling. Lava ran in rivers, and seemed to form – or at least run into - a sea of lava around the clod of hard-baked island we found ourselves upon. A broken bridge – massive and made of pale stone –lay broken and shattered. Lying along it –aside from an Imperial Legionnaire's horse, were several charred shapes that I suspected were…human.
The air was dusty, and smelled strongly of something burnt, ashy, and there was a nasty odor that was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. It was too vague to even remember where I'd smelt it before. I could see several stands of bloodgrass from here, standing spiky and red, almost blending into the harsh landscape.
What was if about bloodgrass? Well, I'll just assume that everything here will try and kill me – I know harrada will try to strangle the unwary harvester…and spiddal sticks release noxious clouds…
"Look out!" I barked as I pulled the bowstring back and sent an arrow flying. I had seen the motion out of the corner of my eye – a human shape, being chased by Daedra - and I don't mean scrappy sized Daedra, though there were several.
I meant the bigger Dremora who were jeering and whooping – it looked like a fox hunt without foxes and with humans. The smaller Daedra were easy. To look at Ailirah, you wouldn't believe it, but she ran right up to the Dremora, and began to hack away with those battleaxes of hers to great effect.
Like a lion, that one – I was surprised by her skill and efficiency and immediately reevaluated my opinion of her. Namely that we might just get out of here alive. She was very good at keeping the Daedra occupied, so that I could pick them off from a distance.
It took Ailirah and I only a few minutes to clear the small party of Daedra. "Whoo…you weren't…kidding…" Ailirah panted, looking over at me.
"I don't joke about this sort of thing…where's the human?" I looked around to find the soldier lying on the ground. "Oi – wake up, soldier," I gave him a nudge with my foot and he stirred. I knelt and rolled him over, and Ailirah hovered.
"You're…not much of a people person, are you?" Ailirah asked dryly.
"Quite the contrary – but people skills aren't going to work on the Dremora, I'm afraid," I answered. "Here, wake up," I slapped the soldier's cheek as gently as I could with the back of my hand, while still bringing him around.
"Gah!" he came back with a start and I dropped him. "Ow!"
"On your feet," I pulled him to his feet, ignoring Ailirah's looks of consternation.
"You don't just smack injured people!" she cried.
"Duly noted, what's your name, soldier?" I asked steadying him, and keeping an eye out for trouble. I cast a detect life spell, just to be safe.
"Ilend…Vonius," he said, looking from Ailirah to myself.
"Ailirah," Ailirah smiled and supplemented, then gave me a dirty look as I continued briskly. I don't know if she's noticed, but this is Oblivion, not a garden party.
"What's happened? Where's the patrol?" I asked calmly.
Vonius looked stricken. "Captain Matius…sent us in to try and close the Gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off. I managed to escape, but the others are strewn across that bridge," Ailirah turned to look but I didn't. I had thought the blackened shapes looked a little too human to be anything else. "They took Menien off to the big tower. You've got to save him!" Vonius grabbed my arm, his hand clenching with fear and desperation. "I'm getting out of here!" he suddenly yelped, and I recognized panic, and the assertion of instinct to survive.
"Wait..." Ailirah started.
"Go – Matius still holds the road out of Kvatch. Report back to him," I motioned back towards the Gate.
"The Captain is still holding the barricade? I figured I was the last one left alive…" shock and relief peppered his featured, then he nodded, competence and confidence – as well as a little unease at letting two women head straight into this flaming wasteland – filled his face.
I smiled thinly and patted his hand. "Don't worry about us – we can look after ourselves. Off you go," I motioned over my shoulder and Vonius left.
"We could have used him…" Ailirah said ruefully, though her tone indicated she actually agreed with what I'd done.
"Yes," I agreed, "but didn't you see the look about him? He doesn't have anything left to fight with – not in this place, anyway. Taking him would have just gotten him killed…and maybe us along with him. Come on – the big tower," I pointed.
The tower loomed, a black edifice shooting up what looked like several hundred feet, like the central post in a tent. It was actually more like a small citadel, than a tower – for there were several smaller towers, connected by bridges. Broken walls and massive iron gates – or the remains of iron gates – punctuated the landscape. Inside the upper floors, there shone a brilliant if sickly green light, that I did not particularly like. I felt like I was being watched.
"Um…so…" Ailirah said, looking around. She was nervous.
I was nervous – in fact, I know that Lucien and Vicente will both pitch fits when they find out I just walked into an Oblivion Gate with just one Fighter's Guild agent, without a clear plan of action.
We didn't train you to act like this! I could hear it now. But I figured that if I invoked the argument that I had to get to the Family, see if they were okay, much would be forgiven.
Gogron would wish he was here. I wished he was here – he could really help us bust some heads. "We're in Oblivion," I sighed.
"Yeah…any idea…whose?" Ailirah asked.
I suspected she had already hazarded a guess. "Well," I said, falling back on my studies with the Mages' Guild, "accepting the fact that we're not choking and suffocating in blinding agony, there are no insane residents, and no maze gardens, I can safely rule out Malacath, Sheogorath, and Boethiah's realms. It's probably not Nocturnal's or Hircine's…My guess best guess? Mehrunes Dagon…he takes the ash and waste to an extreme…or so I thought," I rattled off. I know it can't be Azura's –you can't reach her plane from Nirn anymore - and I'm pretty sure Vaermina's realm would be a little less...corporeal.
I had a scholastic interest in the Daedra, especially as some of a mage's best powers are summoning. I was never good at it, but I was interested in where we were summoning lackeys from. Not enough to go visiting the shrines, mind you…but still.
"Damn," Ailirah grunted, and proceeded to swear for some time yet. "So…you're Dagmar?"
I shrugged. Dagmar is my real first name –Sarielle is my middle name, and I much prefer it. I'm sure you see why. "And you're Ailirah – the prisoner who escaped from the Imperial Prison, unless I'm much mistaken."
Ailirah looked guilty. "The orc started it."
"I believe you," I said absently, thinking back to Gogron's disposition for starting fights.
Conversation slacked off not long after this – we were too busy trying to fight our way through patrols of Dremora, and their hangers on. I was beginning to worry I'd run out of arrows, but I had to admit that while Ailirah seemed to be a little uncertain, jittery, and a little naive, she was great to have in a fight.
I've never seen someone so enthusiastic and efficient about hacking up Dremora, and I live with Gogron. This Fighters' Guild short-sheet –she was quite petite – could give the orc a couple lessons. I also noticed that while she tried to be pleasant and amiable, I had no doubt that she was a leader.
She was just content to listen to the one who wasn't panicking. The truth was…I was a little beyond panic. This place was terrifying in the extreme, and it was only my will to get out of here alive that kept panic and foolhardiness at bay.
Though it would never do to admit it – not just now, anyway.
