No wonder they've been having trouble getting information. This cavern system's extensive. People can't just come and go without being noticed.
Ceirin followed Kalaron as he took another branch, down a long sloping tunnel. The necromancer clearly knew the ins and outs of the place by heart. Weak light flickered from the torches sputtering at intervals along the walls and here and there soft balls of magelight floated over workspaces.
It had taken the better part of two weeks to gain Kalaron's trust. And now that he had it, the necromancer was leaning on his supposed expertise more and more. His questions had become requests had become demands. Spending the last years in Skyrim had worked in Ceirin's favor as he had been able to rely on the things he had learned delving into old Dragon Cult ruins. So far, his false identity had held up, but the game became more dangerous every day.
It had, however, gotten him the invite to see the base of operations. Kalaron seemed to be in a hurry to finish something. And whatever that was, it had to involve the dragon.
They rounded the final bend and went through a guarded doorway; Ceirin tensed at the sight of the skeletons. He had managed to convince Var to let him keep his ebony blades instead of the standard issue Thalmor sword she had tried to give him but he was still very badly outnumbered.
The immense cavern before them opened onto the sky.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ceirin spotted the pedestal supporting an all too familiar black book. He clenched his teeth against the sinking feeling that this had all just gotten to be too much for him. Would he have to go back through to Apocrypha? He wasn't sure he could handle that again.
Mora must have given Kalaron the information to resurrect the dragon. This must be what the agent back in Riften had been warning them about. If the necromancer was feeding his people to Hermaeus Mora in exchange for knowledge then maybe there was a way to exploit that. But it would take careful questioning and timing on his part.
His gaze swept around the rest, taking in works stations and racks of weapons and armor and came to rest finally on the dragon resting in the center of the cavern.
"Magnificent, wouldn't you say?" Kalaron was eyeing him in an odd way that made Ceirin's skin crawl. As though he knew something the rogue didn't.
"You've reconstructed an entire one?" Ceirin played stupid. He didn't see a soul gem anywhere. And for a creature such as a dragon, that gem would have to be large and close by. Maybe it isn't tethered and I can just kill it normally.
"Reconstructed? Don't make me laugh." Kalaron sneered and turned to the dragon. "Rise!"
The chill inducing clatter of bones shifting around echoed throughout the chamber as the dragon lifted its rotted head and peered at them through malevolent eyes lit with reanimate magic.
"Dovahkiin?"
Oh, shit. What was that old saying about no plan surviving reality? No time to get a message out; he would have to improvise something. Ceirin had a split second to lament that as he drew his blades and turned on Kalaron.
