4E 206: Last Seed 21st:
The Breton scholar sighed as he tossed aside another fragment of Na-Totambu pottery like it was worthless. Rifling through debris of an ancient homestead that once belonged to an occupant of the Yokudan nobility, Fronteich expressed annoyance at each of his findings. The man believed nothing amongst these buildings out in what were once the slums of Honavoth would have helped discern why the honored dead had risen from their rest. He would have studied the relics in closer detail if he had some respect for the Na-Totambu and was familiar with their history and culture. But to him, it didn't help that the houses they once lived in were crumbling ruins. One-room abodes were often pretty easy to excavate if they weren't full of the same kind of debris as anywhere else. Ceramic shards of broken Na-Totambu pottery should have been considered valuable treasure had they not been so normal-looking that it was hard to differentiate them from the modern Redguard pottery. It and the fact it was a large quantity amongst the rubble pretty much decreased its value.
He had to be fair in acknowledging his own cowardice, of course, as it was to blame since it made him stay outside Honavoth's walls. His expertise would have shined inside the walls since he knew more about the Nedes than the others. Granted, his knowledge of the Vakhaader was quite limited like Krisra's; though his knowledge on Nedic civilization as a whole made him much more qualified to study the city-state than her. It should have been of benefit to the expedition's mission.
Instead, he'd been reduced to a common worker without a care for what he was doing. Like workers he was typically in charge of back in Hammerfell, the comparison all too unwelcome as it demeaned him and his reputation. The work he was doing now made him miss regulating them as a scholar of Nedic civilization. It was manual labor they should have been doing instead of him. Unfortunately, he'd been unable to hire anyone in Dragon's Grove and Hegathe. Nobody believed an ancient Nedic city-state was on Herne, believing it was a fable concocted to get more people to go there. Although many common folk and peasants would have jumped at the chance to sign onto an expedition for drakes, they did not want to go to some island in the Abecean Sea. Especially as the Second Great War was raging which was understandable. But the lack of interest in Honavoth was a chance for Fronteich to prove them wrong and him right. He intended to show them all and become famous for discoveries he made without giving them credit for not bothering to join him.
Now, though, it appeared he'd become nothing more than some bit player in the expedition as that Bosmeri scholar from the Elinhir Mages Guild and that noblewoman from the Kingdom of Taneth were taking charge of everything. Shoving him aside because her goals would have made much more of an impact than his ever would since she had political clout. While the other scholar simply went along with her, whatever his intentions were. Although Fronteich could understand it was important for Krisra to make her discovery, if she could, he didn't trust that Bosmeri scholar. Half of the reason was out of jealously towards the man while the other half was his ethnicity as a Bosmer due to the Thalmor, the Third Aldmeri Dominion, and the war. He suspected the Bosmer was responsible for this whole ordeal on his own or involved in it with a larger group. But he was forbidden from speaking out of term in case he was right to avoid arousing that Mer's suspicions. Further at least because his behavior towards Erasnlorn already made his bias well known to him.
Though he had to be frank in that he did not appreciate being left out of Honavoth as they pursued more significant avenues of exploration. Part of his common sense was glad that Erasnlorn was in the thick of it since the Bosmer's life was now at risk. Even if he hadn't been a Thalmor or some necromancer contracted by them, Fronteich would have been glad if Erasnlorn died. He did not want to compete with some Bosmeri scholar usurping his fame. And a much darker part of his subconscious hoped Krisra would suffer the same fate too for that same reason despite his common sense saying to avoid a political dispute with the Kingdom of Taneth. But he wouldn't have had a hand in it which should have comforted him, but didn't. Not helping when he should've would've been seen as him leaving her for dead on purpose. The complications of which he desired to avoid, particularly because it could've led to time in some dungeon in Hegathe or Taneth or his execution.
The situation was what it was, unfortunately, and he had no more control over it than they did apart from them taking action. Fronteich had to accept it, but he was comforted by the fact that if all went south they would shoulder much of the blame for failing. Whereas the only blame he'd receive would be for being a minor member of the expedition whether he survived or not. Perhaps then he could escape this whole mess quietly to spare his reputation or whatever remained of it in the event word got out about his inclusion. There was hardly any way he was escaping with a clean standing, though the reward for such perfection was being in the position to spin the whole incident his way instead of theirs. But it wasn't worth the trouble, so he would have to discard that in favor of staying alive. Preferably as someone not well-known or a total stranger rebuilding a clean slate.
"Find anything?" Flocino asked quietly from behind him, bringing the Breton scholar back to his senses. Fronteich could not tell if his bodyguard was looking at him or not because his back was to the Colovian Imperial. The guild fighter was most likely maintaining his vigil on the plaza outside for undead wandering around the vicinity. Or he saw Fronteich had quit looking for clues.
The Breton merely sighed and threw away another shard of Na-Totambu pottery. "No," he answered honestly, though his tone was degradingly obnoxious. "I don't even know why we came here anymore. What'll we expect to find in this heap of squalid ruins anyway? Aside from debris and broken pottery." He was exhausted and exasperated from the lack of progress which was rather understandable. Had Marintus been with him, the warrior would have brusquely demanded he keep looking instead of whining over having to actually work. It made Fronteich somewhat glad Flocino was guarding him instead of that lout, for the archer was more reasonable. Even if he agreed with his fellow guild fighter as they were members of the same guildhall in Hegathe. Conformity to the Fighters Guild's warrior culture as the scholar saw it, something he despised about the guild. Still, Fronteich had little to no reason to continue griping just yet since Flocino was better than Marintus.
"I'm afraid I don't know either," the archer commented, surprising his client somewhat by concurring slightly. "Who knows what makes the honored dead rise from their graves apart from Necromancy or a curse? It makes no difference to those who defile their sacred resting place. Only survival counts as in all situations." His view was rather philosophical and mostly realistic. It made Fronteich wonder how much smarter Flocino was than Marintus. Maybe the archer was the brains and the warrior the brawns. It did not change his perspective of the two guild fighters, however, but he was thinking of giving Flocino a measure of credit for having agreed with him on that point. Not that he would say that to Flocino out loud or admit to anyone else to preserve his own image.
Nor did he comment on the remark, skimming over a few more pieces of pottery before he threw them down too and stood up. "This is the seventh damn structure we've been in!" he griped, momentarily forgetting that the undead would have heard him raising his voice. "There's nothing here and there'll be nothing in any of these gods-forsaken homes! Nothing but debris and remains!"
"The undead, Fronteich," his bodyguard gave him a sharp reminder, scanning the area out in the alleyway for signs of undead approaching. None were there, but it didn't change the fact his client should have kept his voice down instead of accidently alerting the undead to their presence.
"Fine, I'll shut up now," the scholar complained again in a slightly subdued whisper.
Flocino didn't respond, merely holding his hand up to gesture for Fronteich to be still.
The Breton did as instructed, trying his best to keep from shuddering noisily lest the undead were nearby. He watched the archer to determine if Flocino was going to make another gesture for him to follow. When none immediately came, he turned around as quietly as he could to examine the walls around them for openings he might have missed the first time they entered the building. Or for ghostly entities phasing through the walls, recalling the mention of that Altmeri spirit those two Knight Brothers encountered. Although there weren't any holes the undead could exploit, they did not need openings present when they could just break down the walls to make them. Something the ghosts certainly didn't need to do. Fronteich should have kept glancing back at Flocino, but he did not want to get caught out either. He turned his back to the other man and let him watch their only way out until he realized the guild fighter could've left him there without realizing it. So the scholar turned back just as Flocino started to silently step towards him, nearly startling Fronteich.
"Quiet," the Colovian Imperial whispered softly and directed his head towards the door as a gesture for them to leave. "Looks clear, we should make our way out the alley to the next home."
Fronteich took a deep breath. "R-right," he stuttered as they both returned to the door and peered out for undead that could have shown up in the few seconds it took for Flocino to tell him they were leaving. None came, so it was safe enough for the time being. Motioning for the scholar to follow, Flocino slowly advanced down the alleyway looking ahead of them. Fronteich followed close behind, looking back at the other direction every so often for undead in hot pursuit. Once the two men arrived at the entrance into the alleyway, Flocino gestured for his client to stop so that he could scan the plaza for undead. There was a single skeleton walking by an alley they had not been down yet, so the archer unslung his bow and removed an arrow from his quiver. Nocking the arrow in his bow, he then aimed at the skeleton before letting the arrow fly. It struck the skeleton right in the leg, the slight impact being enough to knock those bones away so the rest of the skeletal frame could crumble to the ground in succession. Quickly lowering his bow, Flocino moved his left hand from it to the hilt of his silver shortsword. No more undead became known, so it was safe to move.
"Let's go," Flocino murmured and quickly snuck across the deserted plaza with Fronteich in tow. Although his client was not versed in the ways of stealth, the guild fighter had to give him credit for being as quiet as he could be. That did not stop either of them from wishing that the other guild fighter was with them. Marintus was back at camp, guarding it from undead that could have ransacked it in their absence. Leaving their client with just Flocino for protection against undead. As risky as it was for just an archer like himself without strong support from a warrior, it did help. The less people there were, the better they could get by unnoticed. Those were the kind of odds a person like Flocino preferred, even if his client was of the sort most likely to get them into trouble.
Spotting the glint of his silver arrow in the sunlight, Flocino quickly retrieved it before they got up against the wall. Peering down the alleyway, he saw it was devoid of undead; though it did not mean any were not in either of the buildings or would come around either of the corners at the other end. The two buildings were covered in overgrowths of vines and flora, and grass grew along the path about a quarter down. With a gesture for his client to follow, Flocino quietly led the way down the alley. He kept his hand on the hilt of his shortsword, preferring it over his bow in case a mummy or skeleton caught him off guard in close quarters. He felt the grass brush up against his ankles and the dirt started emitting dust as they were walking. Catching sight of a branch sticking out of the building on their left, Flocino held his hand up to motion for Fronteich to remain where he was. Taking a few steps closer to look through a sizable hole in the wall, he saw an ash tree had grown out of the dirt. Its trunk was completely gnarled from having grown in such a small building, its height badly stunted from hitting the ceiling. The top of the tree leaned against one of the walls with its head pointing down towards the floor, its branches spread all around to prevent movement.
"No way we're getting in there unless we cut the branches down," Flocino observed, noting it could have taken a while to clear the branches away so that they could investigate this structure.
"Then I guess we should head back," Fronteich declared as he turned to leave, but he was stopped by his bodyguard. The scholar sighed and turned back to face him. "But we've not found anything, Flocino. There's nothing in any of these buildings that'll tell us how the undead awoke."
"Not yet," the archer countered his whinny complaint, aware that sounding critical would have made his client more upset and make him sound like Marintus. "We must continue checking."
The Breton opened his mouth to protest, but figured he should've kept his mouth shut and did as he was told. He didn't think Flocino had the expertise to determine what was useful, but he certainly didn't either. Still, despite his inability to study the Na-Totambu ceramics, he knew what kind of artifacts would have been important even if he couldn't identify why and how much of an impact they would have made. Sighing in frustrated exasperation instead, Fronteich hurried by his bodyguard towards the next building out of impatience. "Fine, let's just get this thing over with," he commented brusquely as he went to enter the other building. Until he stopped and moved back, causing his bodyguard to approach for a look inside the building while Fronteich pointed at what he'd seen inside. "T-there's another mummy," he stuttered, his arm shivering without lowering it.
He was right, another Na-Totambu mummy was lying on its front inside the homestead as if it had either fallen in combat or was simply resting. It didn't surprise Flocino since they fought other mummies in the vicinity before they made camp. He didn't believe it had been defeated, just remaining dormant if it lost some of the energy needed to keep walking or waited to ambush them. A single mummy like the one they encountered in Rhovad would have been difficult to deal with on his own despite its slow mobility. But because it was lying face down and neither of them could hear other undead in the vicinity, the archer thought he could take it. Especially since the mummy would have needed to push itself up before it could try to be threatening. So Flocino crept up to its body while slowly drawing his silver shortsword from the sheath, making sure it made little to no sound. He could not afford to alert the mummy to their presence. His plan was to approach its head and impale it through the back in an attempt to kill it instantly. He hoped the attack would succeed.
Although Fronteich was frightened of the mummy, he realized how vulnerable he was and came inside too. But he was careful enough not to make a sound and hid by the door so that other undead would not see him. He couldn't watch what Flocino was doing, choosing to watch the door instead while his bodyguard kept his eyes on the mummy. It made him wish Marintus was present in spite of the warrior's behavior towards him. Partly to defend his life, but also so he wouldn't be the one to stand vigil. Whether that was laziness or preservation on his part was up to interpretation.
Upon reaching the mummy, Flocino took note of its position and his own to best determine how to prevent it from getting up. By positioning himself just below its right arm and leaning over to put his full weight onto the blade, he could end it in one blow without taking damage. Although, he needed to position himself just right so the mummy wouldn't hurt him with its arms nor make additional physical contact. And he needed to be fast since it could get up at any moment, stealing away his only chance of having the upper hand with the mummy unaware. Without further thought, he leaned forward and plunged the silver shortsword through the back of its head as planned. The mummy reacted as expected, unable to retaliate apart from trying to flail its arms about in a pitiful attempt to throw its attacker off balance. Flocino maintained his grip though, applying his weight just right as he carefully cleaved through its head. Within moments, it crumbled into a pile of dust.
"There," the archer commented. "We won't need to worry about this one anytime soon."
"B-but w-what if it t-turns into a g-ghost?" his client stuttered in a timid whisper.
"Maybe," Flocino responded. "But I doubt it." He held his weapon up to show the Breton scholar. "This is a silver shortsword. Silver can do more than just harm undead; it could prevent a physical form of undead from turning incorporeal. Though a necromancer would need to be pretty powerful enough to undo that." Standing up with his blade still drawn, Flocino walked over to the door and took Fronteich's place to peer out. "Besides, that was a quiet kill. It won't draw attention."
"S-so, no more undead will come around?" Fronteich hoped his bodyguard was right.
"Only if they're wandering around aimlessly or patrolling. But they won't notice us unless we catch their attention. We could hide in here and they won't know it unless they come in." While he was explaining this, Flocino heard footsteps outside coming from around the corner on the right. Remaining silent, he held a hand up for Fronteich to step back so he could listen for whatever was making the footsteps. Bones creaking and two guttural hisses almost in unison indicated there were two skeletons outside. As the skeletons had not crossed the intersection yet, Flocino took a moment to reinforce the importance of keeping Fronteich quiet. The Breton scholar's lips were sealed, not moving as he crept towards the opposite wall. A window there overlooked the backend of another alley that must have been reached from another area. No undead were looking through it as none were there at the moment, but the scholar nervously kept his eyes on the opening so he could alert Flocino to undead coming from that direction. He hoped none would show up at any given second.
The skeletons were coming closer, rounding the corner into the alley. Their guttural hissing made it seem like a conversation was passing among them in a dialect neither Flocino nor Fronteich could understand. Deciphering it didn't matter as the skeletons would have attacked them on sight. As he waited for them to approach, Flocino sheathed his blade so he wouldn't waste its durability. He was well-hidden by the door and so was Fronteich by the window, so the skeletons passed by without so much as a passing glance inside. That was when Flocino took the opportunity to strike, stepping outside as quietly as he could and seizing one's skull to wrench it away from the frame. As that one fell, the other skeleton heard its collapse and turned around only to be body slammed.
Once the blow knocked its bones to the ground, Flocino stepped back to better observe the skeletal remains. Although he wanted to avoid slipping on the bones, they were flimsy and cracked into bits under his footsteps. The crunching was soft, not likely to draw attention from other undead if any were around. It sounded like walking on the ground. He didn't want to make any more noise, though, however low it might have been. He knew any foe would have likely investigated if they heard anything suspicious, even if it was so much as something soft, because it was out of place.
"H-have they been dealt with?" he heard Fronteich ask from behind, turning around to find his client at the door. The Breton must've gotten rather impatient and worried when he didn't see him come back in the split second following the skeletons' demise. Seeing the skeletal remains at Flocino's feet made him realize what a stupid question that had been. All he had to do was look at them for the answer, plus it risked drawing attention from more undead if any had been around to hear him. Flocino could not blame his client for that as he was the one who made that much noise.
"These two are," he answered verbally nonetheless if only to be more polite than obvious. "Have you seen any through the window and if so, how many could you discern and of what type?"
"It's all clear," the scholar responded with a sigh of relief, looking at him with a concerned expression conveying his anxiety. "Can we go now? I don't want to stray any further from camp."
"We are not that far," Flocino countered. "The camp is just a couple plazas away."
"Y-yeah, b-but I-I don't want to go much further," Fronteich continued to protest, wanting nothing more than to be safer in the presence of both his bodyguards back in their camp. Or, as he preferred, far away from Honavoth, Rhovad, and the entire island of Herne. "Come on, can we?"
"It was only the two skeletons and the one mummy," the archer remained patient with him.
"B-but t-there c-could be more!"
"Lower your voice, Fronteich," Flocino instructed. "While there might be more, and likely will be, there are not any near us right now from what you just said and what we cannot hear. You agreed to continue searching before sighting the mummy. All of the undead we just encountered are no more. So it is safe enough for you to continue your investigation while I maintain my vigil."
Fronteich grunted in frustration. "Being back in Hegathe would be safer, but fine, I'll look."
Walking back into the ancient homestead, the Breton scholar returned to what he had been doing while Flocino guarded the doorway. While Fronteich was searching for clues hidden among the debris, every so often Flocino went to the window to check there for undead. Looking through the window, he noted it was just a dead-end with a single doorway into another Na-Totambu abode and a well. The alley was much wider than the one they entered because space needed to be made for the well. The well was made from stone with two wooden beams standing on either side and a wooden pole in between. Both of the beams were rotting and it seemed like the well had a roof in the years of Honavoth's inhabitance and shortly after. Until it too died out with the rest of the city-state, leaving just bits of wooden remains as evidence of its existence and subsequent passing. The pole, though also having grown old from age and being forgotten, still looked somewhat usable in its pitiful state. A severed rope was wrapped around it, draping just above the well's opening. Even if it hadn't been torn, Flocino didn't think there was merit in checking the bottom of the well. The water must have dried up unless rainwater was collected, plus parts of the roof must've clogged it. There was no handle on the side of the well he could see, so it had to have been on the other side.
The doorway, however, held his attention more than the well, as did the other ways undead could enter the alley. Halfway down and the end both rounded around to the right, surrounding the building that was most likely another Na-Totambu homestead. Although he could not see past the left wall, it also looked like there was some clear space just across from the building. There was a pair of windows in the building that looked out at whatever that space was, so it might've been of some interest. Perhaps it had been a garden or an exterior shrine to gods of the Yokudan pantheon. But Flocino figured they could check it out after; he and Fronteich still had two paths to go down in the other alley, so they had to search first before returning. Returning to the doorway, he stood up against the wall and listened carefully for undead coming their way. None were, so it sounded safe enough to glance out for a moment. Though he didn't, aware he might have been lulled into a false sense of security, so he just waited for his client to finish investigating the building before stepping out. There were no mummies or skeletons around, though ghosts could've been invisible.
"Nothing," Fronteich spoke aloud in a soft, yet disgruntled tone. "Feels like we're chasing fables that aren't even there. We'd be better off waiting for the others to come back from the city."
"There is still more to explore, Fronteich," the Colovian Imperial insisted he continue while going over to the other end and peering down the path to their right. There were a couple doorways into two other buildings, though one of the entrances was blocked by rubble while the other door had branches jutting out. He couldn't tell if there was a window to look through into the latter, but there weren't any windows or holes on the former apart from the roof having caved in. That must have been the rubble, but the debris looked too high and unsteady for either of them to climb onto.
"What more is there?" his client continued complaining. "This whole district's the same!"
"Doesn't matter, we need to do our part in this expedition," Flocino retorted, beginning to feel impatient with the man's cowardice. He was not quite as irked as Marintus usually was, though he did understand and agree with him on Fronteich's behavior. Heading to the other path, he took a brief look down the alley which immediately rounded to the right. The way was sealed by rubble they could have climbed over with no other way around and no doorways into the homes on either side. But Flocino decided not to for it would have been hectic trying to climb over when the undead were attacking. "This way," he directed the Breton and led the way down the right path instead. It did not garner protest from his client, fortunately, so he was glad Fronteich kept quiet even though he remained irritated. As they were walking, Flocino got a better view of the building on their right to find it was crowded by trees branches. Like the one other building, it too had a gnarled ash tree growing inside that had already pierced through the roof. Some rubble was on the ground whereas other pieces were held by the tree branches, a few of which had been wedged up against the walls.
Because both homesteads were off limits to them, the two men ignored them and proceeded to the alley's end. Stopping there, Flocino raised a hand for his client to step back so he could look out into the plaza they were entering. It was like the other plazas they passed through, containing several Na-Totambu homesteads all around. Most of which were unreachable, however, for eleven were blocked off by a massive sinkhole in the ground that caved in long ago while ten others were all blocked by debris from fallen roofs. Flocino could only guess that an earthquake of some kind happened at some point, causing this much destruction. He quickly cast a glance at the only home he and Fronteich could access and walked over to look inside when a mummy stepped out. It had not noticed him, luckily, so he stood up against the wall as quietly as he could while unsheathing his silver shortsword. The mummy didn't spot Fronteich either, slowly walking over to the caved-in area with Flocino in tow. Casting a quick glance at the scholar and gesturing for him to be quiet, the archer waited until the mummy stopped at the edge before using his sword to give a hard push.
His foe didn't expect it, caught completely off guard as it pitched into the sinkhole before landing shortly after. He did not hear it crumble upon impact, unfortunately, so Flocino needed to get closer for a better analysis. What he saw would have sent lesser men with little to no experience dealing with undead into a meek stupor. At the bottom were about forty undead, mostly Vakhaader skeletons with a moderately small number of Na-Totambu mummies. Some shambled around the earth and debris whereas others were trapped under rubble despite remaining animate. From the markings on the walls that he could see but couldn't decipher from where he stood, as well as the chamber itself, Flocino knew he was getting a brief glimpse of the tomb itself. The very tomb that rested underneath the city-state of Honavoth and allegedly extended underneath Herne's entirety. For a moment he couldn't make out which of the mummies he had pushed in since they all looked the same from up top and were outnumbered by the skeletons. Until he saw it try to get up moments later, only to be trampled back down by a couple other mummies and some skeletons. A couple of which fell apart from tripping over the mummy's body while one got thrown off as it began to rise.
Although he was afraid of what Flocino had seen in the sinkhole and of falling into it if the ground gave way, Fronteich hesitantly approached to examine it for himself. It made Flocino worry that the ground would not be able to hold their combined weight. Fortunately, Fronteich only took one look at the tomb below before covering his mouth as he backed away in sheer fright. "T-there's so many of them…" he murmured in a terrified whisper, beginning to quiver timidly while standing paralyzed with fear. He would've asked why there were so many when he realized it was a stupid question, plus his fright prevented him from voicing it. "O-oh, it was a mistake to have come here. W-we s-should go before t-they realize we've come. W-we s-should get out of this damned place."
Flocino cast one more glance down into the sinkhole before walking away from it himself. "Alright, we'll leave this plaza after we check out this last house here," he attempted to soothe the other man's frayed nerves somewhat. An attempt that did not sit well with his client as the Breton yanked himself away when he tried to lead him towards the only homestead they could check out.
"N-no, I-I want to get out of here!" the scholar protested vehemently.
Flocino could tell he meant Honavoth as a whole, to abandon everyone else for his safety. He would not allow Fronteich to give up now when they needed all the help they could get. "They cannot reach us, the ground's collapsed with no way up," he tried to reason with him in an attempt to make him reconsider. Force was a last resort. "Besides, we've seen more while we were on our way here. In lesser numbers than down there, but accumulated it's more. And we dealt with them." He was hoping Fronteich would calm down and had begun directing him towards the house when the Breton nearly let out a hoarse shriek. He quickly pointed across the sinkhole towards something and Flocino followed his frightened gaze to find a procession of undead leaving the furthest alley on their left. All skeletons and mummies, perhaps more than in the sinkhole. It appeared the crowd had not noticed either of them, so Flocino quickly hurried Fronteich into the building very quietly.
"O-oh, g-gods…" the scholar whined, nearly on the verge of tears. "This place is cursed!"
"That may be," Flocino couldn't argue with that as he looked back out at the horde, unable to count them all. "But like I said, they cannot reach us for now. The sinkhole's in their way, and they haven't spotted us. Odds are that we'll be able to avoid them and can outrun them if they do."
"Did you see how many were down there, Flocino?! How many were out there?!"
The guild fighter sighed, pushing his client up against the wall as an indication that he was starting to lose his patience with him. "I know," he responded curtly despite maintaining his level tone. "Still, we have a job to do, Fronteich, and we're not going to let those undead get in our way. If I can handle them, I will, otherwise we'll avoid them. Let them be if they don't notice us or are in greater numbers, and do not draw any attention to ourselves. That's the last thing we need here."
Fronteich stared at him for a moment before sighing, realizing his bodyguard had a point. "Fine, I'll start looking while you keep watch," he resigned himself to their situation and ensured he remained silent while starting his investigation of the building. While he walked around briefly for an idea of what exactly he was looking for, Flocino looked out at the undead horde again for a basic idea of their movements. Kneeling down, Fronteich started picking through the bits of debris for ceramic shards imprinted with anything that might have been relevant to some extent. He spent a bit of time doing that prior to catching sight of his bodyguard moving to the window and looking out into what must've been another alley. Only when he stood up for a quick glance himself, there was enough space for the path to have been an actual street. Across from the homestead they were in was a collapsed building, most likely a homestead. The far wall and half of the wall to the right were all that remained, allowing them to partially see into what could have been another alleyway.
"Nothing?" the Colovian Imperial inquired while peeking out the window at all the undead. Although he could not make out their total number, he counted at least twenty-seven. Added to the estimate of forty in the sinkhole, he supposed there were over sixty-seven undead in the vicinity. Turning back to find Fronteich shaking his head and shrugging, he supposed it was time to move. Taking one more look at the undead horde, he quickly climbed out the window with his client right behind him. They started sneaking down the street, checking that side alley to find it was nothing but a dead end with a stone altar. As Fronteich crossed into the alley to check it out, Flocino took one last look at the procession behind them to ensure they had not noticed either of them. He stood up against the wall watching both them and the way forward. He knew he was vulnerable to undead from the latter direction when standing in view, but he heard nothing that indicated he had to move. Only Fronteich's footsteps were the closest audible source as the Breton scholar approached him.
"Nothing again," Fronteich commented disappointedly. "It's stained with what looks like blood, so perhaps it was used for some ritual sacrifice or to simply skin animals for their hides and cut into them for their meat and organs. I can't tell which, though I don't believe it really matters."
"It isn't fresh, isn't it?" his bodyguard asked, to which the scholar shook his head. "Figures. Feels too obvious for a necromancer to work this close to the open. Doesn't suit them or whatever their purposes are." He started walking down the rest of the street with Fronteich in tow. Although he should have checked the horde again, Flocino believed he did not need to. The two of them had already gotten a distance away where they would not be spotted by that horde. And even if it saw them, the undead likely wouldn't be bothered enough to care or wouldn't reach them in time. From his experience, undead typically registered the living for only a short amount of time before losing their attention if they couldn't find them. Their eyesight was limited too, regardless of being in the light because they could only make out things just a short distance ahead. The undead were tough opponents, but clearly not difficult to hide or escape from provided one knew how to handle them.
Coming to the street's end, Flocino hid against the wall with Fronteich and examined their surroundings. In front of them was another plaza in ruins, surrounded by Na-Totambu homesteads circling an ancient fountain that dried up long ago. Nearby was the remains of a riverbed that once flowed through the city-state, one of the tributaries dammed up by structural debris. It was littered with inanimate skeletal remains and a few mummified bodies lying among the bones. Some of the homesteads were inaccessible due to rubble, but others were blocked by undead wandering around the area. Not as many as in the plaza they left, perhaps around eighteen in total, but it was enough to deter both men from exploring. Luckily, the undead were not patrolling anywhere by the alleys to their right, so they were able to sneak by and duck into the closet one without getting detected.
As Flocino understood it, they were now in one of the alleys he spotted from where he had stealthily impaled the one mummy. He and Fronteich had essentially made a loop around the area and would be coming upon that space he thought was a garden or an exterior shrine. Fronteich had no awareness of where they were going, however, so the Breton kept quiet and followed along. He did cast nervous glances over his shoulder as did his bodyguard to ensure the undead didn't follow either. Satisfied that they weren't, they reached the corner and halted for a moment so that Flocino could check for undead. He did not expect to see undead around the corner since he'd been looking down the alley before, but he required confirmation regardless. As expected, there weren't undead to be found. The quick check also enabled him to get a better look at that space, spotting a statue depicting a particular figure. It did not appear to be particularly tall, so perhaps it was supposed to be hidden from the echelons of the Haeknison Dynasty and their supporters. It suggested the place was a shrine to one of the principal gods worshipped by the Yokudans, primarily the Na-Totambu.
Going around the corner with Fronteich, his guess was proven correct as they walked over to the shrine for a better look. The shrine was obviously not very well-kept as a result of time, for the tall grass grew so high it obscured the statue's base. Time was not kind to the statue, causing it to become worn as chunks had fallen apart. Pieces of stone debris littered the small shrine, laying at the statue's feet or jutted from the tall grass. It was amazing that despite its condition, the statue still stood as if the god depicted was still present to some extent. But while Flocino knew the gods had a substantial following back in Hammerfell, primarily among Crowns like Krisra, he believed the pantheon had departed Honavoth long ago. Their departure was quite sad, really, for there was nobody left to worship them and their absence aided in Honavoth's desolation. Perhaps it must've been a reason why this place was cursed, that the gods were angry over Honavoth's decay and had risen the honored dead to spite Rhovad's people for dishonoring their origins in some way. Or for the city-state to be re-inhabited once more by the very people who built and continued to shape it.
Except neither explanation made sense considering that Ghamol did not encounter undead during his one brief visit to the city-state. According to what they'd heard from Krisra, with Coleus and Enjisha backing her statement. Neither did Erasnlorn's solitary presence on his first expedition alone, nor later when he brought them and Marintus to Honavoth. It was possible for the curse to have started upon Krisra's arrival as she was a Crown. But that didn't sound feasible either because Aubra Lhortba had been a Crown too. Whatever the case, Flocino had a feeling the situation wasn't caused by the Yokudan Divines, but by another force at work. Something of either Vakhaader or Na-Totambu origins, likely; or perhaps something to do with Hircine, Mysticism, or Necromancy.
Flocino couldn't be sure because he had no way of knowing, just speculating. However, he did recognize that the statue depicted the Yokudans' agricultural god, Zeht. He knew nothing about Zeht apart from that fact and what he looked like to the modern Redguards, so he was quite capable of discerning his identity in ancient Yokudan depictions. However, he believed Zeht's presence in this spot was because of the Na-Totambu who took up agriculture under the Haeknison Dynasty's reign. He expected there were probably other Na-Totambu shrines erected to the other gods across this district and the rest of Honavoth. Primarily Tu'whacca because of the tomb under the ground, though Ruptga, Tava, and the HoonDing would most likely have shrines too. Maybe Leki as well.
Neither Flocino nor Fronteich dared step on Zeht's shrine to avoid angering the god given the respect both men had for him despite neither of them being worshippers of the Yokudan gods. Such a transgression, even if Zeht was no longer present very much, would've violated the shrine. But Flocino did wonder if Zeht was aware of his people's resurrection and if he would have done something about it. Perhaps not because Zeht was just an agricultural god, but Tu'whacca was the most likely to since he was the God of the Far Shores responsible for leading the souls of his people to that Plane of Aetherius. If the others didn't have influence over the issue, surely Tu'whacca did.
Neither of them could make out remains of other statues to the Yokudan gods either, so it was safe to assume this shrine was exclusively for Zeht. That in of itself made Flocino think about whether the Yokudan pantheon had been limited to just a select number of gods while residing on Herne. Until the Na-Totambu finally migrated to Hammerfell where any gods whose worship they restricted would resume. He couldn't say for certain if that was the case or not as he was no expert on the matter and neither was Fronteich. But he did believe Zeht and the HoonDing would've been quite important on Herne due to the Na-Totambu's residence. They followed Zeht for agricultural riches while the HoonDing would have made way for them to establish Rhovad and depart Herne for Hammerfell. So to him, it would have made more sense for those two gods to be very critical.
Krisra would probably have a better idea and a more informed opinion as a Crown herself, so he considered asking her when they regrouped later. But for now, it was a decrepit shrine to one Yokudan god, not the rest. Which may have been unfortunate unless they found a shrine dedicated to Tu'whacca. He and Fronteich only hoped that Krisra knew something about that god that could be of some use to their predicament. Otherwise they would be godless within a city-state of undead.
…
Sitting on a stone bench he dragged across the ground at their base camp, Marintus sighed in sheer boredom as he gazed into the now dead fire. It had been put out earlier that morning when most of everyone had awoken, partly to not disturb those who still slept but also so the undead did not take notice of the rising smoke. Not that the undead would have cared, he suspected, for undead normally didn't register smoke or fire unless they were burning. Scratching his chin with one hand and keeping the other on the shaft of his silver battleaxe, Marintus looked around at the now empty campsite. There was nothing he could do to entertain himself since guard duty, as dreary as it was, was of the utmost significance due to their proximity to Honavoth's center while the honored dead were walking. None of them showed up anywhere near the campsite as far as he could hear, so he had just been sitting in silence waiting for something to occur. Either the undead attacking or some of the others returning from their investigations. Flocino and Fronteich being likely to return first.
The only thing he could do was think about the expedition and the incident at large, though that quickly died out like the campfire. Everything he'd known about the situation was covered by now and there was nothing new to add until somebody learned something important. So instead of dwelling on the undead, Marintus started thinking about what'd he do back in Hegathe. He'd report to the guild head with Flocino and complain about Fronteich, obviously. Maybe take some time to himself for a break from contracts. Considering the Second Great War, he thought that the Fighters Guild would not be receiving too many contracts from clients. Many people had enlisted to combat the Third Aldmeri Dominion, leaving fewer people to hire the guild's services. But contrary to that belief, however, the city-state of Hegathe actually saw an increase in the number of contracts. He supposed that was because most of the kingdom's other guild halls had gone off to fight the Third Aldmeri Dominion too. And some of the same clients were offering different and similar contracts.
Beyond that, unfortunately, Marintus couldn't think of anything else to do in Hegathe. The city-state was mostly quiet from the lack of people going around. Not everyone who called Hegathe home had enlisted, though its streets were not as bustling as usual. Crime increased somewhat due to the low number of guards and Knights of Old Hegathe. It couldn't be measured, unfortunately, as not all crimes were reported, so he wasn't sure what the rate currently was. The Hegathe Fighters Guild aided in guard duty throughout the city-state and the kingdom in general, albeit in inefficient numbers because a lot of them were fighting in the war. Prices on mercantile goods and services decreased too as there wasn't much demand as a result of the war, plus supply declined since much of everything went straight to the war effort. Pretty much everyone and everything went to the war these days in a desperate, yet rather successful, attempt to obliterate the Third Aldmeri Dominion.
Marintus could technically go to one of the local taverns for a drink of mead or ale provided the places remained open and the publicans weren't fighting the Thalmor. Or he could've gone on a trip across the kingdom, perhaps to find work at one of the other open guildhalls or elsewhere if nothing could be done. The Fighters Guild generally frowned upon independent work unless it was for the guild's benefit or during occasions when not enough contracts were being given out to the guild. Including during wars like the Second Great War. He had not really experienced those other slow periods, though, so he could not determine what would lead to them. Issues within the social infrastructure of a society, perhaps, like what had happened over in Cyrodiil during the time of the Oblivion Crisis. Other than that, he couldn't tell or be certain of anything else that affected work.
That one incident in the neighboring province of Cyrodiil had been due to the establishment of a mercenary company in Leyawiin called the Blackwood Company. It was comprised of Khajiiti and Argonian mercenaries who fought in the Arnesian War between Morrowind and Argonia back when the latter province was called Black Marsh. Other Argonian and Khajiiti members had served in the Imperial Legion and attempted to reclaim Argonia's territories that were lost to the Dunmer. Although the Blackwood Company was formed by these two races in Argonia, it became the only mercenary company in the province to have founded a base in Cyrodiil. The Blackwood Company was more or less a dignified band of criminals and thugs, recruiting members from pools of crooks, felons, and disgruntled Fighters Guild members who jumped ship in favor of work. The company had no morals or standards, and took any job without ethical obligations to guide their policies and practices. Despite their effectiveness, its members were not screened and had unbridled permission to operate however they pleased for clients. Which proved harmful to Cyrodiil and its inhabitants.
What did them in eventually was not initially Imperial authority, but a covert operation two members of the Fighters Guild performed against the Blackwood Company. Those guild fighters were none other than the Champion of Cyrodiil himself and Modryn Oreyn, the Cyrodiil Fighters Guild Champion serving in Chorrol. Oreyn's role in the affair was as the planner sending his fellow guild fighter to infiltrate their enemy and take it down. Through their investigation, they discovered the Blackwood Company had been giving their members sap from a sick Hist tree they smuggled into Leyawiin. The ill-created Hist sap caused them to hallucinate, making them see the people of Cyrodiil as monsters to be put down. Thankfully, the Champion of Cyrodiil promptly defeated the Blackwood Company at their base in Leyawiin and destroyed the sick Hist tree. After his victory, the company fell into ruin and its remaining members were pursued by the Imperial Legion under orders from the local rulers and Elder Council members of Leyawiin. For his role in the affair, the Champion was promoted to Guild Master of the Fighters Guild, as his predecessor chose to retire.
But that did not fully destroy the Blackwood Company. Rather, its operations ceased in the Cyrodilic province with the capture or executions of its members. Including former Fighters Guild members unable to receive amnesty from the Empire and the guild for their participation in illegal acts committed by the company. Its guildhalls in Argonia remained open and committed to serving the Argonians. Although Chancellor Ocato and the Elder Council looked into having the remaining halls in Argonia investigated and shut down if need be, no such action was taken. Cyrodiil and the other provinces were still recovering from the Oblivion Crisis. Being the only province to escape the Daedric invasion with little casualty, Argonia was in the best position to promptly secede from the Empire. It enabled the Blackwood Company to escape Imperial oversight, but Marintus could not be sure if it was still around. The Argonians had purged all outside cultures from their province, but the Blackwood Company could have remained because it was founded in Argonia. Just without the Khajiiti influences that helped define its growth after the Arnesian War, if those were no more.
Had the Blackwood Company been successful in its endeavors, the Cyrodiil Fighters Guild would have shut down. It would not have had a significant impact on the other provincial branches except for some debate or infighting over which one would assume leadership. Marintus could not determine which of them had the better qualities, though figured Hammerfell's branch had a strong claim backed by the worship of Ebonarm. Still, the guild endured even as the Champion of Cyrodiil disappeared not long after which left the Cyrodiil branch in disarray again. And with his absence came the near collapse of that branch's social policies and regulations which defined it as the head branch. That was when negotiations were held to give members who'd sided with the Blackwood Company some form of clemency as part of the guild's recovery. But disillusionment complicated the process before leniency could be determined, so the traitors were arrested with the true culprits.
Although the Hammerfell Fighters Guild had not been impacted much by that development in the neighboring province, the incident was still known throughout its provincial branches. The Blackwood Company became a subject well integrated into the guild's history that its presence in Argonia and Cyrodiil was taught to new members. A new chapter about it was added to the second edition of "History of the Fighters Guild." Marintus remembered reading about the company when he first joined the guildhall in Hegathe, leading him to reminisce on his early years. Back then, the Dominion had signed the Second Treaty of Stros M'Kai with Hammerfell, bringing the First Great War to its full conclusion. It did not stop the people of Hammerfell, especially the Redguards, from despising the Dominion and refusing to interact with its member provinces in any way. However, it also did not inhibit the Dominion from operating in Hammerfell behind the scenes, such as when Taneth was betrayed to them from within. He had only been a young man at the time, performing regular contracts and having little to no involvement with whatever went on in the political sphere.
Reminded in part by that conversation he had with Strelis during the journey to Honavoth, Marintus wondered if the guild's decline could have led to the rise in mercenary companies similar to the Blackwood Company. It was certainly possible that some disgruntled group could've banded together to legitimize their misconduct. Especially over in Cyrodiil now that its provincial branch was declining. But as long as the law stood, no such guild would dare to challenge the authorities.
Hearing two pairs of footsteps from around the corner, Marintus snapped out of his reverie and stood up. He kept his hand on the pole of his silver battleaxe, ready to swing it at a moment's notice. He had a feeling it must have been Flocino and Fronteich returning, or maybe two of those people from one of the other two groups that had both gone into the city. Presumably one of those two groups lost someone if that was the case. Unless there was an extra pair of footsteps he wasn't hearing or hearing well. The tone of those footsteps easily indicated it wasn't a couple of skeletons or mummies walking about. Those undead had distinct footsteps, but ghosts could make footsteps if they were full-bodied apparitions. Taking the weapon in both hands, Marintus stood ready for a skirmish against whatever ghosts could have been around the corner if it was a pair of ghosts. But just as he heard the familiar voices around the corner, he suddenly felt a presence right behind him and whirled around. He swung the battleaxe with him, cleaving it through the air and into a spirit.
The weapon embedded itself diagonally into the ghost's shoulder, penetrating deep within its incorporeal body as ectoplasm gushed from the wound. The ghost screamed in agony while he applied further pressure, grasping at the battleaxe in a failed attempt to remove it. As it writhed in heated pain from the attack, made worse by the weapon being made from silver, its features were starting to become more apparent. It finished manifesting in front of Marintus as the body of a man adorned in tribalized fur greaves with leaves and animal hide for extra protection. His fur gauntlets and fur boots were the same, gripping the silver battleaxe despite the pain of touching silver. While his chest was completely bare, it was caked in mud and dirt. Most of the materials that comprised his armor likely came from dead animals hunted and skinned long ago, proving the ghost was very ancient. Marintus guessed he was of Vakhaader stock due to the armor as he felt the Na-Totambu would have been unlikely to wear it themselves. Though Krisra could have likely had a better idea.
"Marintus!" he heard Flocino murmur slightly aloud as the archer drew his bow while their client quickly cowered behind the other Colovian Imperial. But he had the situation under control, shoving the Vakhaader ghost up against one of the walls before throwing him to the ground. The ghost came free from the battleaxe just as his face finished materializing, presenting an expression of utter pain and despair from the agonizing injury. That kind of wound would have killed him had he been alive, and the trio certainly hoped it would have sent the spirit back to the afterlife. Which it did as the ghost continued to wail and moan while dissipating into a pool of ectoplasm near one of the tents. Breathing a sigh of relief even as he kept the silver battleaxe ready for another ghost, Marintus stepped forward so Fronteich could quietly sprint behind him as Flocino examined what remained of the Vakhaader ghost. "Have other undead attacked our campsite?" the archer inquired.
"Just the one you arrived in time to see me finish off," the warrior responded as Fronteich immediately noticed something shiny on the ground, bending to pick it up while the two men were occupied. "I don't know if there are more though, or if there will be at some point. But I killed it."
"W-what kind of g-ghost was it?" their client asked, hoping there weren't more.
"Vakhaader," Marintus answered matter-of-factly even though he couldn't say for certain.
"How can you tell?" Flocino asked.
"He was wearing tribal armor," the warrior explained. "So I suppose he was a Vakhaader."
"Makes sense," his fellow guild fighter agreed with that assessment, noticing that Fronteich was holding something. "Looks like he dropped whatever it is you're holding." The mention of it made the scholar panic, so he hastily dropped the object. Once it hit the ground, Marintus bent to pick it back up. Showing it to Flocino, he revealed it was a dagger made out of pure, solid rubedite.
"A rubedite dagger," he observed, handing the weapon over.
"Seems to be in good condition," Flocino commented and returned it to Fronteich. "Here, analyze this for us and see what you make of it." Their client, however, was hesitant to accept the dagger. "Don't worry, the Vakhaader ghost has been dealt with and more have not materialized."
"Yet," the scholar corrected him coldly, if rather timidly, before sighing moments later and taking the rubedite dagger from him. He would have commented on his reluctant resignation, but was still too spooked by the dagger and the possibility of more ghosts to argue with them further.
Marintus looked at Flocino. "Let's hope there aren't any more to keep him quiet."
"Agreed," Flocino nodded before describing what he and Fronteich found in the district.