Chapter 12: A Quest Here, A Distraction There
Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scroll Series or the Witcher Series
The Elder Scrolls belong to Bethesda and the Witcher belongs to Andrzej Sapkowski.
The chapter contains original and paraphrased dialogue from the Witcher 2
A/N: So very sorry everyone for the wait but life hasn't been kind. Work from school has been hard and a cold has kept me confined to bed for the past week. But I managed to produce such a chapter for you all. Anyways, don't expect another until about April so I hope you enjoy this chapter. I would really love feedback on this chapter.
Vatryn could not help to watch in amazement at the cadre of dwarves at the table, drinking insane amounts of alcohol without becoming inebriated. There was Yarpen of course along with Cecil to his right. There was save for one dwarf who refused a drink, who Vatryn was introduced to as Sheldon Skaggs, a veteran of a battle that happened in this world. If they were in Tamriel, they'd make excellent members of Sanguine. All but Sheldon continued to chug as Vatryn glanced and sniffed at his own drink.
"What's the matter with you gray one?" Yarpen asked, wiping away at his beard. "Our drinks not good enough for you?"
"Hmm…" Vatryn said, perking up from his trance. He quickly looked down, grasping hold of his mug. "Oh, no of course not. Sorry, it's just… I was in thought."
Just as quickly as he looked down, Vatryn swallowed his drink.
"Not bad," Vatryn said with a smack of his lips. "So… this town of yours? Reminds me of some places back home; homey, kind of close-knit, and mostly homogenous."
"What are you getting at?" Yarpen asked.
"I'm only curious as to why you're all fighting for Saskia," Vatryn answered as he stared down at his mug, swirling the contents around. "My situation is… complicated but you all seemed to have readily rally around her. And I'm not talking about the whole 'being besieged' thing, I get that. But the ideas she espouses seemed to taken hold on you."
Yarpen shrugged and leaned forward. "I'm not a philosopher but Saskia's someone that I just know who I am risking my neck for. Besides, axe-swingings my trade."
"The woman's cuckoo," Sheldon said, "Ready to spit in the emperor's face even. But I have to admit, she knows all about warcraft and, dammit, what she says speaks true. Vergen should be a free place, no matter if you're a dwarf, man or mangy elf. Eh… no offense."
"None taken," Vatryn replied. "Though I have to agree that the Scoia'tael are pretty mangey. I mean you'd think people trying to uphold some sense of nobleness would at least learn proper hygiene."
Vatryn pinched his nose, waving his hand out as he spoke. A few laughs elicited from some of the dwarves, causing even Vatryn to let loose a small chuckle.
"If I'm being honest, I'm surprised by all of your answers. From the short time I've been here, it seemed impossible to me that all the races here would play nice. But you're all full onboard this equal dream ride."
"We wouldn't be it nor for Lady Saskia," Cecil replied, raising his mug.
Vatryn smirked a smile. "It would seem so. And speaking of the Dragonslayer, I should inform you all that I've been tasked with helping to heal her and the mist."
Vatryn proceeded to pull out a journal and small black chalk. "Mind telling me where I can find some immortelles? Along with any information about some past battle in the fields."
"Ha… only if you'll agree to more vodka!" Yarpen suggested, raising his mug.
"Why not?" Vatryn shrugged, clinking their mugs together.
Through their conversation, Vatryn learned of the immortelles in an abandoned mine and of the monsters inhabiting them. Due to the war, the town had no one to spare to clear them but Yarpen offered him and his mates assistance to which Vatryn agreed. But before he could deal with that, something else had caught his eye. The fight in the back of the tavern.
Admittedly, it had received most of his attention during his conversation with the dwarves. Not because he found the conversation boring or anything but more so the draw of a quest.
Vatryn had been musing on the subject for some time yet the situation with Saskia and Vergen has only exacerbated these thoughts. On the one hand, he wanted nothing to do with this world, only agreeing to go along with others to find a way home. Yet the sole reason he's in this situation was to leave Tamriel and go on an adventure in new lands. But it shouldn't be that difficult of a choice for Vatryn. Should it?
"Hey, what are you doing elf? You just goin' to stand there and gawp?"
Vatryn snapped out his thoughts as he looked towards a scraggy man staring at him. The man raised his brows at Vatryn, crossing his arms for an answer when Vatryn was suddenly pushed away.
"Out of the way gray ears," a brawny man in tattoos said as he turned towards the scraggy man. "20 marks on the fat one," he said, handing a pouch.
Vatryn grumbled, wiping his shoulder as he approached the scraggy man again.
"You gonna say something or am I goin' to have to throw you out gray elf?" the scraggy man asked, catching the ire of Vatryn's growl.
"My name is Vatryn, not gray elf," Vatryn replied, stepping close to the scraggy man. For a second, the man trembled as he backed away. His scared look snapped Vatryn out of his mood, stepping back and sighing.
"So what's going on here anyway? Some sort of fight club?" Vatryn asked.
"What do you think?" the scraggy man declared.
"Well I think it is a bit strange a nobleman would take part in this," Vatryn said, peering behind to see a fat man clad in royal clothes beating on a peasant. Crowds around them cheered on, tossing out purses of coins as others threw out slurs.
"Sign of the times," the scraggy man said, "Saskia treats the peasantry as our equals. And once you let a dog inside, it'll never sleep in the doghouse again."
"Guess nobles don't change between worlds either," Vatryn thought.
"But that's not for me to judge," the scraggy man continued. "The point is, you can make good coin on fistfights. Want to give it a go?"
"So you're the bookie then?" Vatryn asked.
"I am a nobleman of Vengerburg with ties to all nobles in the North. Not some 'bookie'," the bookie said, strutting his chin high. "But yes… I do handle the bets for onlookers and fighters. It's simple actually. Each contender puts down his stake and it rises the more a contender wins. If you want to fight, put down some coin."
"Coin, huh?" Vatryn questioned, skimming into his pouch and pulling out the various coins he collected. "Like these?"
The bookie looked over his palm and shook his head. "We don't take orens here, that's Temerian currency. You need marks or crowns at the least. Come back when you actually have money."
"That's not all I have," Vatryn said, quickly scrounging back into his pouches. "How about… some amethysts? Must be worth some marks."
"Let me see…" the bookie said, taking hold of one of the amethysts. He hummed, observing it from all sides. "Yes… this is real though a bit crude. Two of these would work for about 60 marks."
"Then its a deal," Vatryn said, swiping his hand to drop amethysts in the bookie's palm. "So then, got any interesting opponents for me?"
"For starters, you'll fight a novice. And before you do that, you'll take off your armor before fighting," the bookie said.
"That guy is wearing armor," Vatryn pointed to a fighter clad in leather straps.
The bookie waved him off. "That barely covers his whole body. I don't know what kind of armor you're wearing but it probably has some crazy elf magic on it. If you wanna fight, then no armor."
Vatryn wanted to argue back, raising his finger in protest until his brain reminded him. His armor was heavily enchanted and it was enchanted by an elven mage. Of course, he couldn't tell the bookie that and complied with his demands.
Within entering the makeshift arena, Vatryn had only the clothes that he wore underneath. A ragged tunic and trousers complete with foot wraps. Ironically, the same thing Vatryn wore as a prisoner of the Imperials.
"Hey, it's an easy one Olbalm," a crowd goer yelled.
"Yeah, knock that knife-ear down!" another yelled.
More of the slurs and insults chattered around Vatryn as he looked at the onlookers. Though many of the chants were racist, he could tell it seemed more out of bravado than prejudice. It's what he thought until his opponent, dressed in nothing but knickers and hood, walked in.
"Oh, ho… today's not your lucky day gray elf," Olbalm said, raising his fists. "Goin' knock you on your ass and take your shit."
Vatryn fell into his fighting stance. "Well, aren't you a-"
Olbalm roared and charged at Vatryn, his fist launching straight at his face. With a step, Vatryn swiveled on his heel and Olbalm swung at empty air. The peasant swung his elbow back, completely missing Vatryn. Vatryn's fist then pummeled into Olbalm's stomach, keeling him over with his knee with a follow-up kick to the face.
The onlookers were in disbelief, their cheers but a silent echo as they looked down to an unconscious Olbalm, bloodied in the nose. Vatryn stared blankly back at them and on an impulse, planted his feet on top of the peasant and pumped his fist into the air.
They erupted into a small cheer, chanting and clapping at his victory. Vatryn felt a sense of pride well into his chest, a feeling he had not experienced for a while.
"Bookie, who's next?" Vatryn called out.
"I'll take on the elf," a voice called as a large man stepped into the arena. He too like the man before him was hardly dressed in but trousers and a fur drape.
"Let's go," the fat man said.
Vatryn obliged and the two began a dance around another. They both smiled, teeth bare as they waited for each other to make a move. The fat man yelled, jumping high into the air and slamming his fists onto Vatryn. With his momentum, Vatryn parried the man's fist. Vatryn's hands bared out, grabbing the man and flipping him onto his back.
The man laid out cold over the floor, his giant gut laying bare for all to see. Vatryn looked a bit concerned at his state, wondering if what he did was too much. His finger rested over the fat man's neck and the confirmation of a pulse lowered Vatryn's heartbeat.
Not that the spectators seemed that concerned with the man's condition. Vatryn's win seemed to garner more support from them, particularly among the dwarves as Vatryn saw them handed bags of coins from the human spectators.
"Guess greed is more important than others well being then," Vatryn muttered as he slowly pushed the fat man out of the arena. He flexed out his arms. "Looks like this elf is more than just a knife-ear, huh? Come on, anyone else wants to challenge me?"
Silence bequeathed among the spectators and quickly descended into murmurs. Vatryn could hear somewhat even between the loud sounds of tankards and song in the tavern drowning his ears. They talked of him as some gray monster, too powerful for any normal person to fight. Questions of demon guile, magic, or even just plain trickery popped up.
Vatryn's upbeat demeanor soured at the words, his smile and arms lowering back to equilibrium. He shouldn't be surprised that they might feel that way but even so… why was his spirit lowered? Could it be… no, now was not the time to dwell on it. For now at least.
"Well, if no one else is up for it. I guess I'm the champion fist-fighter here..." Vatryn announced, shrugging as he proceeded off the arena.
"Hold it right there. You couldn't be more wrong, gray elf," a mellow voice announced from the crowd.
The spectators parted for Vatryn to lay eyes on a sharply dress nobleman, clad in pristine clothes and a pompous hat with a feather.
"It's Silgrat," a voice whispered out loud.
"That knight guy?" another questioned.
"Yes, yes… it is I, Sir Silgrat," the nobleman answered, bowing out with his arm extend and chin to chest.
"Funny seeing you here, Sir Silgrat," the bookie said, approaching between Vatryn and Silgrat. "You've always claimed such fights were a primitive diversion for commoners."
"A true knight duels another in the exquisite company of ladies and real gentleman," Silgrat replied. His eyes leered at Vatryn as he spoke, discomforting Vatryn.
"Oh, aye," the bookie said, nodding with a smile. "I'll never forget the great achievements of Seltkrik in the tourneys."
"Indeed, my brother proved his greatness on many occasions," Silgrat sighed. "Alas, it seems the world has gone to the dogs and a knight must challenge commoners to prove his bravery. But this gray elf here intrigues me..."
"Intrigues how?" Vatryn questioned, waiting for an inevitable racist remark.
"Your warring mastery," Silgrat replied. "Though satisfactory, it is clearly leagues above what any elf is capable of. Of course, once you drop to the ground at my feet, you'll realize how woefully unmatched you are."
Vatryn smirked at the nobleman's taunt, sizing up close to his face. "Is that so?"
"Quite so," Silgrat responded, closing in as well. "Two sacks of gold will be the wager. And believe me, Silgrat doesn't challenge any old serf even for but a sliver of gold!"
"Then by all means 'good knight'," Vatryn stressed as he bowed towards his corner of the arena. "Show me and everyone here how much better you are. I'm sure someone of your caliber is more than enough handle me."
"Hmph, do not think I'll let slip by that tone of yours," Silgrat argued, approaching in the arena. "All will know me as Silgrat, every elf's worst nightmare."
"Are you that scared of elves?" Vatryn questioned as he entered his fighting stance.
"Hardly," Silgrat replied, doing the same. "I don't care where you're from but an elf could never match up to someone like me. In fact, I'll prove it right now. Hit me."
"Are you serious?" Vatryn questioned.
"Certainly. Go on, hit me."
Vatryn sneered at the man's contempt, the way he boasted of himself. Did he not see what Vatryn had done? And with the racist undertone, he was asking to be humiliated.
Of course, Vatryn had to be careful about his power lest he kills the man on accident. He took a deep breath in, curling his hands for his attack.
A swing followed out, flying straight for Silgrat's face. But its reduced speed allowed the nobleman to dodge with ease. Vatryn's brain seemingly skipped a moment as he saw a counter from Silgrat landing square in his nose.
His head reeled back and a force planted underneath his chin, toppling the Dunmer over. Vatryn looked up at the ceiling in a daze, his face was blank to what just happened.
"What did I tell you, elf? You're no match for me," Silgrat said, overlooking Vatryn with a coy grin. "You're lucky I don't attack opponents while they're on the ground. Now stand up so that I may trounce you even more."
Vatryn narrowed his eyes as he kipped up into a stance. He began to circle around the nobleman and Silgrat did the same. For all his bravado, Vatryn was still surprised by the skill the man possessed compared to the other fighters. For him to dodge one of Vatryn's slower punches was amazing in its own right.
His thoughts came to end when his body jerked back on its own, narrowly missing a punch from Silgrat. Silgrat pressed his advance, swinging left and right as Vatryn dodged each punch. A growl escaped from Silgrat as he grappled onto Vatryn.
Vatryn responded in kind with a shove. But Silgrat's grip proved more tenacious, ripping a large swath across Vatryn's shirt. The rest fell off to the wayside, leaving all in awe.
"Finally getting serious?" Silgrat asked as he stood up. "Well, then you best prepare yourself. I haven't unleashed my full fury."
The nobleman readied himself, his legs dancing in place. Yet Vatryn made no recourse to fight back. Instead, he took a moment to look down at his chest and then to a tattered piece of cloth in hand.
"You… tore my shirt," Vatryn stated.
"That revolting thing? Of course, someone of your stature would care about something so simple," Silgrat replied, releasing forward a punch.
Vatryn gave a deadpan look at the punch, his body still in motion. In what seemed like magic, the fight paused dead center in the arena. The calm collected face of Silgrat stood in a daze and the crowd stopped their incessant cheering to gawk in wonder and fright. For Vatryn's palm had fully enclosed and stopped Silgrat's punch.
"H-how-"
Crack!
Agony exploded out from Silgrat, the crunch of bone escaping from his hand. Shortness of breath followed through, his lungs panting as he fell to the floor.
"You… tore… my… shirt," Vatryn said.
The Dunmer began to tighten his grip as the sound of bone weaned loud enough for the crowd to flinch away.
"Argh, stop, stop!" Silgrat panted. "You're- you're- breaking… it,"
"Calm down you big baby," Vatryn replied. "I haven't broken anything. And as a knight, surely you'd understand that this is hardly the worst pain you had. See if I twist your wrist right here I'll-"
"That's quite… quite enough!" Silgrat said, wincing as he grabbed Vatryn's arm. "I- I- give. I forfeit."
"Not until I say some things," Vatryn replied, locking his grip further for Silgrat's undivided attention. "Firstly, you've been very annoying to me. I came here to have some good fights, let off a bit of steam. But your pompous ass is making it really hard for me to hold back."
"Don't be… ridiculous," SIlgrat said as he breathed in and out with such exhaust. "I had you on the ropes."
Vatryn rolled his eyes and sighed. With a thud, he released the nobleman to the floor and grabbed him by the tunic. A couple of awes and gasps sounded off in the tavern as they witnessed Vatryn lift Silgrat almost like a cat by the scruff.
"Had me on the ropes now did you?" Vatryn asked.
Silgrat gave no response to the Dunmer, his eyes widened so far that even pupils seem to gorge out in veins. His head slowly turned all directions that he could though most of it focused on Vatryn. The humiliation of defeat had broken his spirit and with a solemn shake of his head, Vatryn released the nobleman down on all fours.
"That settles it then," Vatryn said, "Right, bookie?"
"Finish me," Silgrat whispered, perking Vatryn's attention. The nobleman crawled on his knees, inching closer to Vatryn. His arms reached out but his head still hung low to the ground. "Do it."
"No," Vatryn stated and took a long step back. "I'm not going to kill you over a fistfight and more importantly there's no reason for you to be suicidal just because you lost a fight."
"You don't understand!" Silgrat responded, slamming his fists into the ground. "My reputation is ruined… my honor is gone."
"So what?" Vatryn shrugged.
"So what?" Silgrat shot back. "I am a knight and- hey-"
Silgrat struggled as Vatryn pulled and dragged the nobleman out of the arena, walking out with a wave to the crowd. With all his strength, the nobleman tried to wrestle from Vatryn's grip but to only lose balance as his body was planted against the wall.
"Alright, listen here asshole," Vatryn began, kneeling face to face with Silgrat. "I beat you fair and square, end of story. If you want to cry and bitch about it then go ahead. Maybe next time you won't be such an ass or racist for that matter."
"You'll pay for this elf. I swear it," Silgrat snarled. "I won't forget the humility you've shamed upon me."
"Speaking of humility, I find myself in… how should I say… an awkward circumstance. You, ha, ripped my shirt," Vatryn grinned, barring out all of his teeth. A small chuckle briefly escaped between them as looked down upon Silgrat. "And unfortunately, that was my only pair."
The grin Vatryn presented opened even further, his silver eyes shined off into SIlgrat's and the nobleman sulked lowered into the floor.
"Um… why are you looking at me like that?" he said.
Gloomy clouds of black and gray scattered over the quaint town of Vergen. Scattered rain fell into a mist, eerily bringing a fog meant for specters and ghouls. Combined that with a siege and it was no wonder that the streets were baren of any life. And any sort of people still walking out was quick to hurry to the comfort of indoors.
Though disconcerting to many, it was fine by the standards of one Dunmer as he currently ascended to a higher elevation. There the dwarves from the tavern waited at the top, sharpening their axes and discussing crude topics.
Cecil was first to greet him. "You've finally arrived, Master Vatryn."
"And about time you did," Yarpen added, striding up to Vatryn. "If I had to listen to one more of Sheldon's musings, I was gonna go back and drag you out of the tavern myself. What took you so long?"
"Just, uh… a couple of games, that's all," Vatryn replied, turning his head to look over the town. "And… if you happen to hear about some knight wanting his shirt back, I was playing… dice and nowhere near such an incident."
Vatryn coughed in his palm and the dwarves exchanged looks between each other, rolling their eyes. The Dunmer's cheeks swelled with a slight pink hue, whistling a tune with his head held high.
"So, you say," Cecil said, "Open the shaft, Skaggs."
The dark eery vision of the mine that filled Vatryn's eyes would have convinced him that he was back in Morrowind. The bloodstains on the floor, fallen carts of metals, and pieces of limbs scattered over the place from fleeing survivors. In all earnest, he'd feel right at home were it nor for a group of dwarves chatting constantly in innuendo. Well, just the one.
"So gray elf, you wet your wick recently?" Sheldon asked, breaking Vatryn's mind back to reality.
"I don't see how that's any of your business," Vatryn answered. "More importantly, be quiet. We don't need the monsters to here us right now."
"Ah, don't listen to Sheldon, gray one," Yarpen said, "He's been jabbering about getting his fuck on ever since we left the tavern."
"I hardly talked at all," Sheldon said, "Besides, you're the one that asked for help what with you getting your prick out for every lass that you fancy."
"I just asked if you opened the shaft," Yarpen said.
A moan verberated all of a sudden, turning all explorers to a small wooden door creaking. It mixed with a growling sound and warning to all to prepare.
"Hear that?" Sheldon asked.
Vatryn silenced the dwarf with a loud shush. "Yes, and I would appreciate it if you could be quiet. Please," he whispered.
Vatryn signaled for the dwarves to stay back and crept up against the door. Its wooden frame creaked as he slightly opened it and peered beyond. Nothing but pitch black.
"Looks like we'll need an edge," Vatryn whispered. Another search of his pouches began, wading through the assorted items. The darkness made it a bit harder to find until finally, he grabbed a small vial from his belt and presented it to Yarpen.
"Drink this," he commanded.
"I'm not drinking whatever concoction you made," Yarpen replied, pushing the vial back into Vatryn's chest.
"It's not poison I swear," Vatryn said, uncorking the vial. He sipped of the contents and held it out for the dwarves to see. "There's no light in further in and carrying a torch around will limit our fighting abilities. This potion will help us see in the dark like a cat, only with greater strength."
"And how do you know it'll work on us?" Sheldon asked.
"Because I already gave a potion to a dwarf before and I pretty certain that dwarves only difference is cultural, not physiological," Vatryn replied. He reached again to his pouch for a healing potion. "Here, if it doesn't work or cause something really terrible, then drink this. It'll heal you, that is a fact."
"If you say so, Master Vatryn," Cecil chimed in.
The others observed as the alderman sipped a sliver of the drink. He smacked his lips for a bit, then puckered for a second.
"Well... how is it?" Yarpen asked.
Cecil's eyes rapidly blinked. He held his hand out in front, moving it over to a dark corner of the mine. "It works all right. I can see there's a pickaxe over there," he said.
"Where?" Yarpen asked, squinting.
"You have to drink it to see," Cecil said, handing the vial off.
One by one, each one sipped the vial empty and each widened their eyes in amazement of their new abilities.
"Good, very good," Sheldon said, "Now we'll be able to see the buggers. But uh… just a question, this isn't permanent is it?"
Vatryn shook his head. "It'll last for about an hour. Plenty of time for us to clear out the mine and find the immortelle."
Vatryn led the dwarves beyond the door. Their eyes could clearly see the far reaches of the walls and ceiling in a bright gray hue. They stepped forward, weapons at the ready when the moans and wails entered back into their ears, louder and closer.
Out from behind the various walls emerged several rotting flesh creatures screaming their incessant noise. There was no time to see them in whole as the creatures immediately charged at the group.
"Let's go, lads," Yarpen said, leading ahead with the dwarves.
With swift strikes, the dwarves swiped their axes low to the creatures' legs. Their strength was a sight to behold, lopping the legs in one swing. The creatures all fell to the ground, screeching loudly as they flapped around in a rage.
Yet in that rage, Vatryn noticed something strange going on with the creatures. He thought his eyes deceived him but the creatures suddenly began to expand out their bodies. Expanding so much that they couldn't contain. Vatryn's body ran as fast as he could, barreling into the dwarves and flinging them away in seconds.
The creatures exploded into a red cloud. The combined blast of them all knocked Vatryn to the ground, a discernable grunt yelled as he crashed.
"Gray one? You all right?" Sheldon asked.
The dwarves rushed to the fallen Dunmer, who didn't seem that worse for wear. His hands covered over his hands, hissing in pain but not enough that it seemed serious. With his free hand, Vatryn pointed to his left pouch.
"I'm okay mostly. Could you pull out a vial of water from my pockets?" Vatryn asked, his hands still hovering over his eyes.
Cecil was quick to hand him the potion and clasp his hand, pulling him up. Vatryn emptied the water over his eyes and sighed relief. "Thanks, Cecil," he said.
"I should be thanking you," Cecil noddingly said, "I could barely see what happened but that explosion looked deadly. I'm surprised you're barely hurt."
"And your speed is something I've never seen before," Yarpen commented. "How'd you move that fast?"
"I trained a lot running and I'm pretty strong in the legs too," Vatryn replied, pointing to his legs. "Though I have to wonder what kind of creature was that?"
"You don't know?" Yarpen asked.
"Why would I?" Vatryn shrugged.
"You pushed us out of the way 'fore they exploded. Why else would you have done that?" Sheldon inquired.
Vatryn chuckled at the question. "Truthfully, I did so out of instinct. Their bodies were expanding beyond what seemed normal and so I thought they were going to pop. I mean how silly would it have been if they barely did anything. Ha, ha, ha...ha...ha."
The dwarves were perplexed as to what the Dunmer revealed. The joke he insisted didn't garner any support from them either, looking back at Vatryn with their brows raised and coughing ignorance.
Vatryn replaced his dying chuckles with a cough and spoke. "Anyways, we should be more careful from now on. Try attacking them from a distance and backing away when we kill them," he said. Hums escaped from Vatryn as his attention turned to the dead creatures' corpses.
"Something on your mind?" Cecil asked.
"These creatures… you said they showed up in the mines a while back. And it's obvious they came from here otherwise you'd know what we would be facing. But the question is how?"
"So you're saying they came from the mine? Like these creatures have been living down below?" Sheldon asked.
"Most likely," Vatryn answered. "In my experience, monsters in caves, or mines either come from the outside or from underground. And since no one saw these creatures walking through town, its safe to assume the latter. Which would mean that there should be some entrances where they're coming out of."
Sheldon then elated in cheer, tumbling down into his coat and pulling out small spheres. "It's a good thing I brought these."
"Dammit, Sheldon! Are you trying to kill us all?" Yarpen yelled, quickly grabbing the spheres from Sheldon.
"We said we were gonna clear them out of the mines, didn't we?" Sheldon asked, presenting out another set of balls.
"Hold on, what are you two talking about? What did Sheldon bring?" Vatryn asked as he stepped between the two dwarves before they could argue further.
"He almost brought this entire place down on us, that's what he brought," Yarpen answered as he presented the balls to the group. "These are mining charges and they're very flammable and very easy to set off."
Upon his words, the whole group sans Yarpen and Sheldon backed away with a large step.
"Probably best if they stayed away from the guy with a fire sword," Vatryn raised, taking a few more extra steps. "On the sidenote, perhaps Sheldon's blunder is an answer to our problems. We could use those charges to blow up any places those creatures are coming from."
"Didn't you hear me tell you gray one that these charges can collapse this entire mine on us?" Yarpen questioned.
"Well, do you mean individually or together? Because there is a difference," Vatryn said, "If it's the former, then we can set off a charge at each point of entry of these creatures."
"I… well, no…" Yarpen replied. "But these charges are still volatile when together."
"How many do you have?" Vatryn asked.
"Five."
"Then it's a good thing I have three trusty warriors here," Vatryn said, "Each of you takes two charges(Yarpen, three) while we go further in. I'll lead ahead just in case those creatures don't cause the charges to explode."
"Sounds like a plan," Cecil spoke up as he took a charge from Yarpen.
"Eh… it sounds like I'll have to stay back and watch you fight, gray one," Sheldon remarked in displeasure.
"Would you rather take the chance you'll blow up killing one of those things?" Vatryn asked.
Sheldon looked up at the Dunmer, glancing back between him and one of the creature's corpses and pondering his choice. "Fair point," he said, taking his share from Yarpen.
Yarpen though shook his head vehemently and sighed. "You owe me a drink Sheldon," he said as he entered the charge into his pocket. "All right, gray one. Lead the way."
Vatryn lead the party down further into the depths of the mine. Acting so to say as the spearhead of the group, the Dunmer charged straight first into any of creatures they encountered. The loud sounds they echoed made it easy for them to find through it gave them no chance for sneak attacks. And upon their defeats, the group found their first objective.
"I think I see where they're coming from," Vatryn said, pointing out ahead of the hall.
The ceiling of the mine lowered with each step they took towards the end of the hall. A large gaping hole was presented in full. The depth of it was so deep that even with their night vision, no one in the group could see towards the bottom.
"You sure they came up from here?" Sheldon asked, leaning deep into the hole.
"Why else would there BE a hole," Vatryn sternly replied, pulling the dwarf away. "So, how do we set off these charges?"
Yarpen approached forward and held out one of the charges. "Let me show you," he said.
He made a few sounds to the others, indicating they back up. The ball he then rested on the side of the hole and began to strike a flint at it. Sparks shot out as it began to burn onto the charge and Yarpen rushed back to the group.
"Don't stand too close," Yarpen chided the others to run to the far end of the hall.
In seconds, they hunkered behind the walls for the explosion. The sizzling sparks became quieter with each second until an eery quiet beset the group.
The sound shattered into their eardrums echoing all around them. The force of the blast could be felt even through the walls as they were all slightly knocked to their feet.
"Damn, you weren't kidding about those charges," Vatryn said, rising and helping Cecil to their feet. "What's in those things?"
"Let me think," Yarpen hummed. "Zerrikanian powder I believe."
"And that is made of…?" Vatryn questioned.
"I don't know. I'm not an alchemist," Yarpen shrugged. "I just know it works and how to use it."
The group looked back down towards the hall to see that the hole was no longer there along with about half of the hall itself. Along with no other sounds of crumbling rock that might have accompanied such an explosion.
With the plan firmly established the group continued on through their expedition deeper into the mine. Each time they encountered the creatures, they perused around for any holes and set off a charge. And on the pattern repeated until finally, they exhausted their charges and wailing sound of the creatures had ceased to be.
"Is that all of them?" Sheldon asked.
"I can't hear them anymore. Not even a faint echo," Vatryn stated as he leaned against a wall. "And we've run around in every direction I believe except for there."
The Dunmer pointed to a long hall where the natural workings of the mine replaced the built-in structure of other parts of the mine. The most likely location of the immortelle, their second objective.
The space of the hall was very cramped for Vatryn as he had to bend down to the dwarves' height. Droplets of water echoed the further they traveled until they crawled under a narrow ceiling. A light shone brightly far off where they saw the water and the only path to travel next.
"How is there light here?" Vatryn asked, grumbling as he stood out from his crawl through the hall.
"We're not that far underground," Yarpen said, rolling his eyes.
"Sure, feels like it," Vatryn said, following down the path. "Well then gentleman, this wasn't my pleasant quest but I can say that- and there's a monster down here."
Yarpen sighed in slight annoyance, descending alone as Cecil and Sheldon exchanged glances.
"We get it, you're funny," Yarpen said, parading his hands. "You don't have to- oh shit, there is a monster!"
The exclaims of the dwarf hurried Sheldon and Cecil down the path to lay their eyes on what Yarpen saw. A large heap of muscle bared tall before them. It's body contained by a sack of elastic skin. The monster had a head of a buffalo, with horns and vestigial hands growing out of its body.
"So then Sheldon, guess you get your chance to fight after all," Vatryn said as he swung out Trueflame in a spin.
With a loud roar, the creature bared out its sharp teeth and stomped in a charge towards the group. But it was not alone as more of the previous creatures ascended from the ground and followed forth.
A cheering shout erupted from the dwarves, charging ahead of Vatryn towards the large creature and catching its attention. Imperatively, Vatryn flanked around and engaged towards the smaller ones.
With ease, he cut through one with a strike yet it caused something interesting. Unlike before, Vatryn was met with a fiery explosion to the face and blinded from the inferno. His night vision did nothing but exacerbate further, overloading his entire eyes with a white flash as he flung to the ground. The Dunmer screamed in agony, a call to his allies for help.
"Gray one!" Yarpen called.
Yarpen rushed to pick up Vatryn to his feet, narrowly dodging a strike from the large creature in the process. "You all right?" he asked the Dunmer.
"No, I can't see anything but white!" Vatryn exclaimed.
The roar of the large creature bellowed again as Vatryn spoke, muting his words. A long swipe of its appendage smacked Cecil and Sheldon away, luring Vatryn and Yarpen's attention. The thuds of its feet barreled forward into the ground, pushing aside Yarpen and slamming Vatryn into the wall.
The force of the creature impacted Vatryn greatly, pressuring deep into his chest. Vatryn could hardly see the creature through the white, just an outline of its massive head. The stench of its breath reeked, burning his nostrils.
"Get off!" Vatryn roared with a swing to the creature's head.
To the surprise of the dwarves, such a swing stumbled the creature to the ground as it loudly hollered. Within seconds, Vatryn leaped high above and stomped hard onto the creature. He followed up brutal slashes from a dagger, repeatedly stabbing the creature.
But what surprised them the most was the strength displayed forth as Vatryn grabbed the creature's head, tore off a horn and stabbing it straight into its skull. And with it died down its last scream as their night vision dissipated back into darkness.
Vatryn panted heavily back and forth, his eyes still fixated on the creature. He glanced back to the dwarves, still shocked for words, and stared in silence.
Sheldon approached forward, his eyes still locked on Vatryn despite the lack of light. Here another was, Vatryn thought, that would call him out for some supposed monstrosity or perhaps mistrust and fear. Yet that was not to be as the dwarf raised his fist high and presenting a smiling beard from the light.
"That was fucking awesome!"
