Chapter Eight: Mages and Relics Part One
Blackreach, FOB Blackreach, Province of Skyrim, Tamriel
14th Peacekeeper Company, 3rd Platoon
[Duty: Escort UNESCO Members] 1000 Hours, October 16, 2020
"Sir, please look at the lens." A Brazillian peacekeeper tells Stroeus as he points at the camera. "You're going to feel a slight blinding sensation but it won't be permanent. Feel free to smile."
"Okay then, just countdown for me will you?" Stroeus asks politely, looking into the lens.
"Three, two, one." A flash wraps the room in white as Stroeus closes his eyes quickly. The sound of a plastic item hitting another plastic item rings out as well. The Brazillian peacekeeper gets the card and hands it over to the man clad in armor. "There we go, you are officially part of the United Nations Mission to Tamriel Liaison team."
Stroeus grabs the ID card and rubs his eyes. "Sweet Mara my eyes, that was even worse than what Meridia did to me. But thank you I suppose."
"Don't lose that, and keep it on you, or else the MPs will detain you down here, alright?" the Brazillian peacekeeper tells the Breton.
"Sure thing, whatever you say." Stroeus walks out of the building.
"And tell the next guy outside they're next!"
Stroeus makes his way out of the building that was repurposed. Like many of the buildings in Blackreach, they have been cleared out and re-purposed for the peacekeepers to use. There has also been a noticeable increase in lighting. A steady stream of trucks and transports have been coming back and forth, with tubes going out towards the surface from the main ramp entrance to expel carbon monoxide. He and many others also found it harder to breath down here now with so many vehicles and machines operating.
Walking out into the busy street, the sound of screeching rubber pierces his ears, eventually the sound of metal doors opening, with a very angry Georgian peacekeeper leaning out of the vehicle. "What the hell are you doing in the middle of the road looking about?!"
"S-sorry! Didn't see you there haha." Stroeus answers nervously at the realization of almost having been run over.
"Don't be sorry, do better!" The Georgian peacekeeper gets back inside, muttering something in his mother tongue before speeding off, veering around the figure of Stroeus.
In the barracks area of the new base, Lieutenant Clarke was approaching the barracks, with a heavy heart. Half of his unit had been reassigned due to politics. He had already introduced himself to the rest of his platoon, except for the squad he had been with since the whole incident started. Approaching the barracks of Squad 2, he readied himself.
As the door opened, Sergeant Sheikh snapped to attention as he saw the Lieutenant's chevrons. "Attention!"
Everyone scrambled towards the front of the bunk beds, all in a salute. Lieutenant Clarke had motioned for them to ease down for the time being, all of them returning to a more relaxed position.
Lieutenant Clarke walked to the middle of the room, reading the atmosphere, and getting their attention. "We have lost half of our friends, and comrades due to politics. However I believe, along with high command, that the addition of new soldiers would amplify our combat abilities. Our old friends have been scattered to lend their experience to other units so that they may act better."
"To the new members, please step forward."
Five new members stepped forward, their uniforms and BDUs different from one another. Lieutenant Clarke walked up to the nearest one, bearing an American flag on her sleeve.
A woman of a tall, athletic stature with short brunette hair shaped into a bob cut, and brown eyes, "Private Mercedes Williamson, US Army, Close Quarters Specialist, sir!"
"Welcome to Squad 2, Private Williamson. Don't fail us. Next!" Lieutenant Clarke returns to the center and points at a man with a Union Jack on his sleeve.
A large man standing over 6 foot 6 inches, sporting a buzzcut and a small scar on his right cheek, "Private First Class Connor Carver, Royal Marines, Rifleman, sir!"
"A marine? Hopefully you're smarter than most jarheads. Next!"
A man with the Chinese flag below the UN flag on his plate carrier sounds off, he had an average height, yet wide frame, his square-framed glasses accentuating sharp face well, "Private Qin Qiu, People's Liberation Army, Heavy Anti-Tank, sir!"
Lieutenant Clarke pauses for a moment. "Haven't I seen you around here before, Private?"
"Yes, sir! I was attached to a different unit, 7th Company, sir!" Private Qin replies.
Lieutenant Clarke walks up closer to the new anti-tank operator of his squad. "Are you aware that tanks don't exist here, Private Qin?"
Private Qin remembers in a heartbeat. "The primer said that dragons require piercing weapons to take down, sir!"
"Are you planning to shoot a dragon in the head with your launcher, Private?" Lieutenant Clarke questions.
Private Qin replies ."If that is what you ask for, sir!"
Lieutenant Clarke walks back to the center. "Just do your job like everyone else. Next!"
A man with a Russian Federation flag on his helmet, right below the stenciled UN logo, sounds off. "Private Bazarov Yevgenievich, Russian Ground Forces, Squad Automatic Gunner, sir!" His large frame, and platinum blonde hair became a common sight throughout the camp as more foreigners came in, but his piercingly blue eyes were his most outstanding factor.
"You're not going to turn on us like the movies say, are you, Private Yevgenievich?" Lieutenant Clarke snaps, politely but aggressively.
"No, sir! It's all false information!" Private Yevgenievich replies back.
"Very good, prove Hollywood wrong. You, who are you?" Lieutenant Clarke points to a man with a French flag on his sleeve.
"Private Mathias De La Croix, Armée de Terre, Marksman, sir!" A man of about 5 foot 9 inches stood before Clarke, his almond eyes and hair, and unkempt stubble made him fairly handsome.
"If you brought in any fancy foodstuffs, feel free to share with the rest of the unit." Lieutenant Clarke moves up to the front once again. "Please feel free to get comfortable, the rest of the unit is very friendly and accommodating. Don't feel intimidated, and don't intimidate. We're all friends here."
"Yes, sir!" Everyone responded.
Lieutenant Clarke continues. "Ladies and gentlemen, today is our first day working here, we are also going to work immediately. Our first mission for our duration here is to go back to Winterhold, to a Nordic ruin in Saarthal. We're going to be escorting UNESCO workers there while they work with the College of Winterhold. Jarl Ulfric has assigned us two escorts who are arriving shortly. Get ready, get to your equipment and then meet at Vehicle Pool F. You have half an hour."
Shortly after leaving everyone had grabbed their cold weather kits before heading towards the central armory. They had most of their kit already with them, however protocols dictate that they make sure all firearms are stored under lock and key.
As Lieutenant Clarke leaves with Squad 2 in tow, a familiar face pops up. "Ah, Clarke, getting ready for another mission?"
Lieutenant Clarke turns and sees his friend. "Stroeus, friend! We are gearing up to go to Saarthal. Who's unit are you attached to?"
"Off to help the College then? Just keep your wits about you, the frigid cold isn't for the faint of heart. As for the unit, why not take a guess?" Stroeus replies.
"Ah, I see. Welcome aboard once again." Lieutenant Clarke slings an arm around the armored frame of the Breton. "We got cold weather gear this time so none of us will be freezing to death now, friend."
"Great to hear then! I do not know how you do it in your world but I'll be bringing mead and ale if anyone needs help keeping warm." Stroeus motions towards a bag on his hip.
"Oh we're not allowed to drink on duty. We keep warm with thick coats and one time use heaters, from what I understand, but all the instructions are in Russian, so a few others and I might need Yevgenevich to do a demonstration." Lieutenant Clarke opens a door to the armory. A guard stops Stroeus but is eventually let go when he shows his new ID, and is accompanied by a person of higher rank.
"Well then that's more ale and mead for Aela and I then, she's a strong drinker she is. But tell me… what are all of these?" Stroeus points towards the guns in the lockers.
"There are guns in lockers, each person has a locker, friend. This one is mine." Lieutenant Clarke opens a lock and pulls out his M4 Carbine, and sidearm.
A Mexican peacekeeper peers from a locked caged area, signalling towards Lieutenant Clarke, who does get his attention. "Are you Lieutenant Clarke? 14th Company, 3rd Platoon?"
Lieutenant Clarke walks over, weapons in hand. "Yes, Staff Sergeant, I am."
The Mexican peacekeeper extends a hand. "Staff Sergeant Enrique Baltasar. I'm the quartermaster for this part of the FOB. You're gaining a lot of attention. So much so that the entire 14th Company of yours has access to requesting weapons and gear, as the note says from logistics anyways." He looks at the bare M4 Carbine for a moment. "Need your strap upgraded?"
Lieutenant Clarke puts his M4 Carbine and sidearm on the table. Staff Sergeant Baltasar proceeds to go through some hard cases and boxes, producing an ACOG scope, a laser sight, and a foregrip. He puts them on the rails in a fluid motion.
Staff Sergeant Baltasar hands the rifle over to Lieutenant Clarke "Here you go. I don't have any attachments for your Glock at the moment." He whistles, pointing towards the French marksman, hard case in hand. "Frenchie! Over here. Special delivery from Passerau."
Private De La Croix walks up and accepts it, a quiet merci and a nod as he takes the hard case and opens it. "Oh c'est gentil!" He pulls out a PGM Hécate II.
"Why was his in a case while yours was only in a locker?" Stroeus points at both weapons.
"My weapon is standard issue, Private De La Croix's anti-material rifle is a special weapon. It needs a request form." Lieutenant Clarke notes.
Stroeus asks. "What is an anti-material rifle?"
Private De La Croix answers without looking back. "It goes through walls and covers better than most. It shoots further, penetrates more, and makes sure whatever is behind all that armor is dead."
"So it's much better than ballistae? And it's much more mobile at that." Stroeus connects the two.
"In a sense, yes." Lieutenant Clarke answers. "Gather around, friends. Write down your requests for weapons, gear, and attachments. We have special access."
The whole unit cheers lightly as they gather around their officer with a notepad.
After half an hour, everyone is finally able to get what they need. Private Yegenivich had requested for a Maska-1 Helmet, with two detachable face shields, one solid metal, and one with a fiberglass covered slit. Private Wiliamson had requested a Benelli M1014 shotgun. Other people had given their requests and were lucky to be in stock.
The group then headed to Vehicle Pool F, with an assortment of vehicles, notably a French VAB, two Cougar H 4x4 MRAPs, two BTR-82s, one of them having a communications suite. Sergeant Drakenberg was there alongside with other men, all in the same uniform but with different flag patches underneath the UN patch. Their bickering sounded light-hearted yet serious. The occasional laugh breaks the tension in the air.
"Yes it is uncomfortable to ride in, but if we fall in a river, me and my brother will be safe." A voice spoke out.
"At least we die in comfort and style." Laughter breaks out.
Lieutenant Clarke knocks on the nearby BTR-82, all the men snapping to casual attention. "Having fun, are we friends?"
"Just getting to know each other sir. Well come on, introduce yourselves." Sergeant Drakenberg motions for them to step up to their officer.
A man with a long, thin, and chiseled face marked with a small scar running over his right eye speaks up "Corporal Lucien Robellard, sir. I drive the VAB over there, I'll be needing someone to be my gunner in any case."
"Corporal Ethan Osborne, and this is Corporal Arthur Willis. We drive the MRAPs over there, we also need gunners, we'll run them through the remote gun systems, don't you worry sir." A man with a soft face, well rounded eyes, and stubble replies while pointing to another man with harsher and more ragged features.
"I am Sergeant Nazarov Victorovich, and this is my little brother, Dmitry. We command the BTRs over here. Our drivers and gunners are rounding up the last bits of ammunition and fuel for all the vehicles for now, we will introduce them to you when we get back." The older Sergeant Victorovich shakes the hand of his superior. A tall and older looking man with platinum blonde hair and blue eyes replies while referring to the other younger looking male with black hair and brown eyes.
"Are we ready to move out now, friends?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
Sergeant Drakenberg points to the left of himself. "That depends on the UNESCO eggheads, sir."
Lieutenant Clarke nods and tells 3rd Company to go mount up and claim a vehicle, or vehicles per squad. He then walks over further inside the motor pool to see a convoy of vehicles in white paint, most of them army transport trucks in white along with a few smaller vehicles such as Land Rovers and UAZs.
Lieutenant Clarke walks up to one of the UNESCO members. "Excuse me friend, who's in charge here?"
"Speak to the woman over there with the auburn hair, her name is Katja Michelsen." the UNESCO member points.
Lieutenant Clarke and Stroeus walk up to a woman standing at about 6 feet tall, her auburn coloured hair is neatly tied into a ponytail that drops to just above her shoulders, her face displays soft and rounded features, and her eyes glow a brilliant ocean blue.
"Are you Miss Michelsen?" Lieutenant Clarke and Stroeus slightly tilt their heads back to meet the eyes of the taller woman.
"Yes, I am her, what can I do for you lads?" Team Leader Michelsen asks.
"I'm here to ask if we're ready to move out now, friend. And to introduce you to our guide and liaison, Stroeus Canalla." Lieutenant Clarke motions a gesture to Stroeus who in turn waves.
Team Leader Michelsen looks at a clipboard list, checking off the few last items."Ah yes, Mister Canalla. We've met a few times here and there, pleasure to be formally working with you. And yes, we are ready to depart."
"Excellent, friend. I need you to tell your drivers to take it slow on the inclines. We only have one tracked vehicle so pulling them out of a precarious position if they tip over will be harder. What are we carrying?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
"Just equipment, a mobile kitchen, and medicine. Can never be too prepared in this place, can you?" Team Leader Michelsen laughs a bit.
Lieutenant Clarke laughs as well. "We'll make the kitchen our top priority. We will move out in five minutes, friend."
Lieutenant Clarke and Stroeus walk off back into their part of the motor pool. Sergeant Sheikh waves at him from the side door of one of the BTRs. "Lieutenant! In here! I got the one with the communications suite!"
Lieutenant Clarke climbs into the left-hand side of the BTR, looking to Stroeus who is now a bit further away. "Get in, friend! We'll give you a lift to the top!"
"On my way." Stroeus runs up to the BTR, which alongside the other vehicles, starts up its engine, causing him to fall on Private Axelsson who helps him into his seat
"What in the godsdamned blazes is that?" Stroeus asks, a bit panicked.
"That is the engine starting. Sorry about that, we cannot get it to start with less sound." Sergeant Nazarov tells Stroeus as the BTR jerks forward.
"What does this engine do?" Stroeus adjusts himself in the seat.
Sergeant Nazarov cycles through the sights of his commander's sight"It uh… makes the… machines move, yeah."
"Ah, I don't quite understand, but if it's safe then sure." Storeus asks as the vehicle tilts forward, indicating that they are now transiting the ramp to the surface.
"Well it is very safe in general. Immune from most forms of damage." Sergeant Nazarov states.
As the convoy began to move out into the surface, the first thing they saw was the checkpoint, a still bare bones checkpoint, but now with proper and permanent cement barriers, guard house, machine gun emplacement, and a gate.
Lieutenant Clarke opens the left-hand door and hands the peacekeeper the documents. As he closed the armored door, the engine began to rev, but the peacekeeper stopped them with a slap on the hull.
"Don't go yet. Another convoy is passing though. Weight limitations of the prefab road."
The road ahead of them was an elevated steel road. They were still building a proper road, but it needed a foundation or else the swamp would make it sink. In a few minutes they saw trucks passing by with the symbol of the Red Cross International NGO. After a few minutes, they were allowed to pass.
"This is your stop, friend. Get your horse and Aela so we can get moving." Lieutenant Clarke opens the door again.
"Alright, I'll be quick." Stroeus jumps out of the vehicle. From the right-side viewports of the BTR, he saw Stroeus jogging, grabbing the reins of his horse as he got on, and telling Aela what had happened thus far, before going ahead of Lieutenant Clarke's BTR as they too started moving forward.
Winterhold, Province of Skyrim, Tamriel
14th Peacekeeper Company, 1st Platoon
[Duty: Escort UNESCO Members] 0000 Hours, October 17, 2020
The trip took them the better part of the whole day. At some point after entering stormcloak territory, as agreed, they were given two Stormcloak escorts, allegedly to help them pass checkpoints faster, but more so to monitor them. Six vehicles had got stuck on inclines or almost tipping over, scarring many people in the convoy in the process. It was dark now as well. The only illumination came from the headlights of the convoy, and the torches of Stroeus, Aela, and their Stormcloak escorts.
Stroeus slowed his horse down to get alongside the lead BTR, pounding on the side of the hul "Is it possible to stop the convoy? I fear we are in dragon territory right now."
One of the Stormcloak Guards slowed her horse's pace"The Breton is right. I think I just heard a roar in the distance."
Lieutenant Clarke puts on his jacket and a white beanie before opening the closest top hatch to Stroeus. "If we stop the convoy, we will be sitting ducks. Do you want to kill the lights instead, friend?"
"The dragon would be able to hear the engines either way. How is your visibility in the dark?" Stroeus asks.
"We have our vehicles spread out but not all of them have night vision, why?" Lieutenant Clarke replies.
Stroeus sighs. "Then tell those that can see properly to watch the skies. I heard a roar echo and it's closer than we might think."
"Alright then, friend. I'll pass the message." Lieutenant Clarke climbs back down into the BTR, closing the hatch.
Lieutenant Clarke grabs the receiver of the communication suite of the BTR. "All Globe elements, this is Globe Lead, kill your headlights, we are switching to night vision or IR optics, our liaison says there may be a dragon nearby."
One by one the convoy had their headlights cut off, depending on gauging distances by the tail lights of the vehicles. Until it was heard. The sweeping of wings, and then a roar.
Sergeant Nazarov yells something in Russian to his gunner, who flips a switch and brings the turret around. The same thing can be seen happening with the whole convoy. But Lieutenant Clarke acted faster.
"Everyone get off the road! Hide in the trees!"
Switching the channel of the on-board radio, he switches to the frequency of the newly set up Holds Air Command, in this case the frequency of the Winterhold Hold Air Defence Network. Pressing the talk button, he began to speak. "Winterhold Air Defence, Winterhold Air Defence, this is Globe, we have spotted a dragon overhead. Approximately five kilometers from Winterhold proper, how copy, over."
"Globe, this is Winterhold Air Defence. We do not have a visual on the dragon. Air assets are being redirected to you, over."
"ETA on fixed wing assets?"
"Two minutes."
Stroeus appears beside the BTR once again. "Make sure everyone gets to hide! I'll buy you as much time as you need to prepare! Aela, with me!"
Lieutenant Clarke opens the hatch, but begins to speak before getting up properly. "No! No, we have aircraft coming in two minutes! Just stay hidden for now, friend."
"Don't worry, I won't die so easily." Stroeus kicks the side of his horse, sending him and his mount onwards to a more open area, Aela in tow.
"We will aid you!" The Stormcloak spurred his horse into action, raising a greatsword while saddled.
The other Stormcloak drew her war axe, following her compatriot. "Nothing a mead or three can't fix afterwards!"
"Joor-Zah-Frul!" A bluish-purple wave of energy erupted from the mouth of the Breton, forcing the dragon to the ground. Getting off the horse, he summoned two purple blades in his hands, slashing in a frenzy, the weight of the purple blades being non-existent, allowing him mastery and quick movement of the blade.
The ancient dragon roared in rage as it spat fire, the large copper-colored reptile was too slow however as Stroeus was able to dive out of the way. However, as the ancient dragon turned its head, it took notice of the part of the convoy on the right-hand side of the road. Trying to fly, but to no avail, the dragon walked up to the convoy, releasing a gout of flame at one of the BTR-82s.
Sergeant Nazarov shielded his eyes as the IR sights were blinded with white light, the gunner doing the same as his screen went bright green. Yelling something in the Russian language, the gunner rubbed his eyes and depressed the trigger.
The 30mm 2A72 autocannon fired rounds at an astonishing rate, scaring the ancient dragon as it stumbled backwards. The armor-piercing rounds dug its way into the frontal scales of it. Giving the vehicle a roar, the dragon lifted up into the sky. It opened its maw, the orange-yellow glow getting brighter and hotter, however it was not the only being who held supremacy over the skies of Winterhold.
The ancient dragon heard the sounds of the afterburners of the Su-27s that had finally shown up to the scene. One of the Su-27s stayed back, performing Barrier Air Patrol, ensuring that the dragon did not escape, nor another dragon show up. The other one went in a straight line, soon enough a missile broke away from the left wing of the aircraft. The R-27 creating the illusion of a shooting star, impacted the dragon right in its side, knocking whatever breath it had in it, and permanently disabling its right wing, tearing it in many places. The aircraft flew past the dragon, just for it to see as the lights on its wingtips made it visible, taunting the dragon.
The dragon, in defiance of its loss of supremacy, fired another gout of flame, however it was futile as it never reached its target. In return, however, the Su-27 launched its final blow. The S-25L streaked its way across the sky, accompanied by the 30mm rounds from its autocannon. The resulting explosion killed the dragon instantly, going limp and hitting the ground. The Su-27s soon left the scene, with their job done, returning to their squadron somewhere over Winterhold airspace.
"By the gods… so this is what Earth is capable of." Stroeus muttered to himself as he and Aela emerged from behind a rock.
Lieutenant Clarke rose from a hatch in his BTR-82, looking around to see if everyone was fine. As far as he could see, no one else was harmed. Except for their liaisons, last he saw they were out in the open. "Stroeus! Friend! Are you alright?!"
Stroeus and Aela walked up to the APC, horses being led. "Aela, and I are fine. Nothing a restoration spell or potion can't handle. But, what was that? What took out a dragon with a single volley of… of things?"
"Well, that was a missile I believe, friend, they were designed to take out tanks, and very large structures. I could be wrong though, I am not a pilot. Are we ready to move out?" Lieutenant Clarke said, relief evident on his face.
"Well in any case, please tell your companions to be careful when using those. The people of Skyrim, no Tamriel, have yet to see such destructive force." Stroeus points out.
Lieutenant Clarke adjusts the beanie on his head. "Well there should be a survey up soon about that, but I will put the word in, friend. Let us get moving."
Soon enough the convoy continued onwards to Winterhold proper. The rest of the way was done so in a more alert and defensive posture up until they reached. Eventually they were met at the entrance of Winterhold with the sight of two K30 Bihos, their South Korean crews greeting them.
"Took you long enough. We had sights on the dragon earlier but it disappeared from radar after a snowstorm hit. Glad you made out alive." The South Korean officer shook Lieutenant Clarke's hand.
Lieutenant Clarke and a few others from the convoy dismounted and stretched their legs. "Well thank the air force, friend. Which way is Saarthal, friend?"
The South Korean peacekeeper took a swig from his cigarette. "Well I can tell you that you won't be able to bring those up the pass. You're going to have to walk it there. Your guide said he would come back in the morning. It's too dangerous to pass there at night."
The group soon parked their vehicles on one side of the road, sleds being prepared for the next day, and tents being set up, some large enough to host about five people in one tent. Sleeping bags were being passed out along with some MREs for those who were hungry.
Team Leader Michelsen peeked into the bowels of the BTR-82, catching Lieutenant Clarke writing in his journal."What the fuck happened back there? Did a dragon really attack?"
Lieutenant Clarke closed the leatherbound book and placed it in a rucksack, looking up at the giant of a woman. "Yes, I am sorry, friend. Are you or anyone in your team hurt?"
"No, no one is hurt, just… shaken is all. Thank you for asking." Team Leader Michelsen leans against the armored door of the BTR-82.
Lieutenant Clarke got up, grabbing a rucksack of his things, leaving the vehicle as Sergeant Nazarov returned to his vehicle. "Well those are not the only things that are a threat, friend. Do you need an escort back to your place?" Lieutenant Clarke joked at the last part of the sentence to break the tension.
Team Leader Michelsen chuckles at the joke. "No, I don't think that's necessary, but thank you for the offer."
"See you tomorrow at breakfast, Team Leader, goodnight." Lieutenant Clarke leaves towards his tent, a greeting returned in kind as they both made their ways.
As Lieutenant Clarke made his way to a large tent, he overheard some of the peacekeepers talking. One of the more audible ones coming from a Peruvian and South African peacekeeper, leaning against the hull of one of the K30s.
"Those locals in that splint armor came here today again I heard."
"Yeah, they tried to recruit me into their group, vampire hunters they say."
"What were they called again? Sun Watchers or something like that."
"Yeah, they've been trying to get more people, with increasing ferocity too. They say vampires are about to attack us. What a load of shit."
"Hey, it could be true. Dragons exist here, remember."
"Well still, I doubt it."
The next morning revealed fair winds and weather. The camp was full of activity, the mobile kitchen they brought was now serving out breakfast, consisting of beans in tomato sauce, sausages, and bread. A few campfires were also lit with groups huddled around them for heat. A man in mage robes, trailed by a few other younger mages approached the group, a bit confused on who to specifically go to.
Tolfdir approached one of the men in a winter camouflage coat, who turned around after recognizing his presence."Ah, greetings to everyone here. You must be the people Stroeus are leading. Are you ready to depart for Saarthal?"
Sergeant Sheikh laughs, amused that he was mistaken as the commanding officer. "You might want to speak with the big lady over there."
"Ah my apologies, thank you for telling me." Toldfir leaves alongside his students, making his way towards the tall woman.
Stroeus put down a wooden bowl, which was previously filled with the aforementioned menu and made his way to the older man. "Tolfdir, are you the one taking us into Saarthal?"
"Stroeus, is that you? Where have you been, boy? You vanished after joining the College." Tolfdir turns around and greets one of his students.
Stroeus hugs his teacher, surprising the older man. "Just, Dragonborn stuff… You know, Alduin and all. Well we've brought more people who are capable of dealing with them thankfully."
Tolfdir flashes a smile, giving his student another thanks in action. "I knew you were cut from a different cloth, but it's still unimaginably remarkable that you've done so."
"Oh please, it was nothing. Even if I wasn't the Dragonborn I would still help regardless." Stroeus brushes off the grace in an act of humility.
"That's great to hear lad. Now, you said I was to act as your guide? Could you explain?" Tolfdir says.
"Oh yes, I'm with the group going in, here let me take you to them." Storeus leads him towards a table further inside the ad-hoc camp.
Tolfdir calls the attention of Team Leader Michelsen from afar. "Pardon me ma'am, are you the group going to Saarthal?"
Team Leader Michelsen puts down the cup of coffee on the table, turning to face the man. "Yes, that would be us. Are we heading out already?"
"The sooner the better, the winds are not as harsh at this time of time so it would be safer to travel now, but no rush of course." Tolfdir states.
"Have you had breakfast yet, friend?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
"Yes, I made sure myself and the students ate and packed extra food for the trip. Thank you for worrying about us." Tolfdir replied back
Almost forgetting however, Tolfdir decided to tell them the news now. "I had forgotten to mention. The Hold of Winterhold will not be stationing guards at the camp. Dragons, for some reason, frequent the Hold, and guards need to be on standby if another appears."
Lieutenant Clarke"Alright then, friend. Take a seat, we are still in the middle of breakfast. We had a dragon attack yesterday so I do not want to push their personal time just yet."
After cleaning up, the rest of the unit and team had begun loading the rest of the equipment onto hand-pulled sleds, securing everything to make sure nothing flips over or falls out. The anti-air unit based there were even kind enough to lend the peacekeepers two FIM-92 Stingers in case some dragon decides to pick on them again.
Tolfdir looks back to the large group of people. "Please be sure to not stray from our sight as one could get easily lost. If you do, look for stone markers with a piece of cloth or leather hanging from them. Lastly, we may encounter trolls or icewraiths so please be careful."
The pass started more or less behind a house, with an atrocious angle. Stone pillars were guiding the way. To ensure no one got lost, they traveled in groups, with each end of the group with a red strobe light. For the most part the trip was peaceful, but dreadfully cold.
More and more walking had nearly drained out the mood entirely. Some were wishing they could just have forced the vehicles up here to save time, however that was about as physically impossible as it could get since the incline was too high, requiring to flatten the land first, which was a large waste of time.
A roar breaks out, however it is masked by the wind, Stroeus picks this up however since he has been acclimated to the wilderness of Skyrim. "Clarke, I hear trolls up ahead. I can count three, maybe four of them."
Lieutenant Clarke runs up, slowed by the ankle-high snow. "Are you sure, friend?"
"Almost impossible to mistake it for anything else. Only other thing that stomps and roars around here are bears, but as far as I know, bears don't make it this far north."
Lieutenant Clarke turns around and speaks into the radio, tuned into the frequency of the rest of the platoon. "Third Platoon, form a perimeter! Stroeus says there are trolls about."
The rest of the third platoon begin to form a circle around the UNESCO researchers, most being surprised at the turn of events. Some even ask them by going to them, however only being told to get back.
From the snow, the shape of four frost trolls make themselves clearer at every step. They begin charging at the group. Automatic fire barks out from the rifles of everyone at the front, some people from the back begin to shift to the front, adding into their firepower. Two stumble onto the ground, one ceasing to move, the other crying out to its pack.
"Get out of the way!" Lieutenant Clarke pushes Private Madsen out of the way of one of the frost trolls' charges.
The trolls reached the UNESCO researchers however were more interested in the people, hence they missed the sleds carrying their equipment by a few centimeters. As they reached the other side, Private Yegenevich used one of the equipment sleds as a support, and took it personally as he fired nearly an entire belt of 7.62x54R rounds into the two, an array of lights as the bullets burned their incendiary packages of tracers, injuring one and killing another. The last one being finished off by Private De La Croix and his FN SCAR-H after a few shots.
"Is everyone alright?" Lieutenant Clarke changes the magazine of his M4 Carbine and puts the safety back on.
"Private Pearce was hit by the trolls, sir. I think he'll be fine." Sergeant Şÿrÿfaddinsoy calls from nearby.
"Private Trobec was swatted away by the damn beast, landed in snow so 'e'll be fine, sir." Sergeant Linehan spoke up.
Sergeant Sheikh, who was beside Lieutenant Clarke reported in too. "Private Watts was also hit by the charge, but he was not trampled, he says he can walk it off."
It took only a few more minutes to get everyone back on their feet and moving again. The rest of the trip to Saarthal was uneventful, which was a blessing in this case, even if it was still quiet. Idle chatter had eventually erupted when everyone felt comfortable.
Tolfdir turns to the group as they break through the snowstorm-like weather, seeing the pit which was the entrance to Saarthal. "So, we've arrived, and thankfully relatively safely. Please take your time to rest, the students and I will be inside beginning our research."
Lieutenant Clarke turns around to face his unit. "Third Squad! Secure the inside! First Suad! Secure this position! Second Squad is to assist in helping the UNESCO researchers."
"I thank you for your help against the trolls. I do not think we could've handled them alone." Tolfdir extends his thanks, albeit a bit late. The group nonetheless accepts this.
"It is our job, friend. Do not worry." Lieutenant Clarke tries to be cheery despite almost freezing to death. It wasn't as bad as it had been the first time, but the snow was very very new to him since he grew up in a tropical country.
Tolfdir was quick to notice the peacekeeper struggling with the cold. "Do not worry about the cold, we can produce fires quite easily to keep everyone warm." He also notices the less soldier-like members of the group, a little shaken up. "Are the other members that came with us fine? They seem to be setting up quite quickly."
Lieutenant Clarke looks to them, seeing both his men and the UNESCO researchers moving equipment hastily. "Perhaps not as much. A creature attacking people who harbor no ill intentions towards new discoveries can change the initial mindset of anyone I suppose."
Tolfdir's face is stricken with a small amount of guilt. "I apologise that we have no way of helping them with that. But if it's any consolation, the area outside and inside of the Nordic ruins are safe as we've used it before for other classes."
Team Leader Michelssen comes up to the two, lifting her goggles up to see better. "That's great to hear, however, how deep do you think these ruins go?"
"We could only go so far as a lot of it has been buried under rubble, but the main chamber is still plenty large." Tolfdir mentions.
"Hmm, a small ruin is always a good start to get the grasp of things. Thank you." Team Leader Michelsen says.
The three of them wait for all of the equipment and students to settle in and get their things inside. After that they descended into the Nordic Ruin of Saarthal, except for the first squad who was picked to patrol and hold the outside. They would take rotational shifts every few hours so that no one would freeze to death.
The entrance consisted of a black metal door, leading into a bigger chamber, with wooden platforms connecting to other stone platforms. Inside there were more UNESCO researchers and peacekeepers setting up equipment. Especially cables, floodlights, and generators. The darkness of the ruin was washed away as the generator and floodlights came on. It was still a bit damp and cold however.
Tolfdir and his students seem confused as the generators sputter to life. "What are those? How do they produce so much light? Is there a spell in them?"
A UNESCO researcher put down a wrench and addressed the question. "It's called a floodlight. It's powered by electricity from the generators outside through these wires. These lights were made to illuminate areas in a storm."
Tolfdir is amazed, the evidence strewn across his face. "What is electricity? Is it some form of magical incantation or rune?"
The UNESCO researcher looks puzzled for a bit before replying. "Uh… I'm not the best person to explain that, but it's a science we will soon be teaching your people about."
"Ah, if you'll be teaching us then I will save my enthusiasm for when it happens. Now before we begin, does anybody have any questions?" Tolfdir asks as Breleyna shoots her hand up.
For the course of a few minutes, the few students, Stroeus included, ask a variety of questions as a chain of peacekeepers and UNESCO researchers funnel in supplies and equipment from the surface. Soon after the rest of the group moves, with the students being instructed to find an Arniel Gane.
They continue onto another hallway, taking a right eventually, and then a left, continuing to follow the hallway that twists and turns, until they reach the main chamber, or at least what is perceived as the main chamber. The bridges connecting to spire-like platforms are rather dark, forcing the peacekeepers to use flashlights, both handheld and those attached to their firearms. However down below, there is a small camp being set up, taking up most of the space of the area, electronic heaters being started to warm people up.
The students and Tolfdir go ahead into another hallway, alongside some UNESCO researchers. Team Leader Michelsen, Tolfdir, and Arniel Gane were busy talking amongst themselves, most likely on the topic of how this joint endeavour would be done. The rest of the peacekeepers however decide to place up in the camp, temporarily resting before doing their rounds.
Stroeus taps the shoulder of Lieutenant Clarke before descending into the camp. "Clarke, can I ask you something?"
Lieutenant Clarke turns around. "Yes, friend, what is it?"
Stroeus gets to the point. "I understand that I am your leeason for this trip, but I am also a student of the College. Would I be able to join them as a student and not as a leeason?"
Lieutenant Clarke combed through his mind if such an act would be allowed, but they were not going anywhere soon. "Sure, friend! But if we need to leave you must come with us as stated in the agreement, okay?"
"That I can do. Thank you Clarke." Stroeus wanders off, following the rest of the class.
Sergeant Sheikh was warming himself beside a recently set up electronic heater, his Type 56 hanging from his side. "How long did they say we were going to be here, sir?"
Lieutenant Clarke also warms up by the same heater, placing his M4 on a nearby wall. "For two weeks supposedly, friend, or when they want us to rotate out."
They could hear the instructions from Tolfdir and Arniel Gane giving instructions and rundowns, with questions from the UNESCO researchers and students throwing questions. It was noise, but a nice one, a sign of cooperation.
Şÿrÿfaddinsoy chimes in, placing his weapon beside Clarke's M4. "It's a cute sight, like a university exchange program."
Lieutenant Clarke and Sergeant Sheikh chuckle a bit, Sergeant Sheik voicing out first. "Well, I suppose. I'd rather be on campus grounds and not some dead city."
"Would you rather stay outside, friend? I'm told we are by the sea, ready to get frozen solid?" Lieutenant Clarke jokes.
"Hey, Sheikh. Did you take that vacation to Japan?" Şÿrÿfaddinsoy asks as the laughter dies down.
"Oh yes. We went to Tokyo. It's very clean there for a city, the people are very disciplined too. Though the restaurants are underground for some reason so maybe there might be a ramen bar here." Sergeant Sheikh accounts for his vacation.
Lieutenant Clarke sighs. "I could use one. I didn't like how hot it was but now, maybe I can ha-"
The sound of a metal barrier coming down, and the panic of a few people cut the chat short. Sighing, Lieutenant Clarke climbed back up, M4 in hand, followed by other peacekeepers. Following the hallway and making his way through the small crowd, he sees Stroeus essentially in a jail cell.
"Friend, what happened?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
Stroeus grabs onto the bars, trying to see if it can come loose. "I was just glancing around and found an amulet on this stone pedestal here, picked it up and these gates came crashing down."
Tolfdir comes by, rushed from his look and stance. "Hmm, this is odd. None of this place looks familiar. Try putting on the amulet and casting a spell on the tablet, see what happens then."
"Alright, stand back a bit in case it goes out of control."Stroeus puts the amulet on and stares at the tablet, something is wrong with it. Casting Flames on the tablet, it broke apart after reaching a sufficient temperature, and the gate raised itself.
Stroeus sighed in relief as the gate raised. "There we go." But then fixed his gaze as he saw what the tablet hid. "Wait, was this passageway always here?"
Tolfdir soon arrived on scene, looking at the hallway as the dust settled down. "No, I think it opened up when the tablet broke. Shall we investigate further?"
Lieutenant Clarke was quick to step up and stop them before entering. "Wait! Everyone stay here for a moment."
Sergeant Sheikh already knew exactly what he had to do. Without missing a step he already turned around and headed back to their base camp. "I will rally the rest of the squad."
"Thank you very much, friend. Sergeant Şÿrÿfaddinsoy, collect your squad and have them keep guard here. Set up defensive positions wherever you can." Lieutenant Clarke ordered.
Soon enough the rest of the Second Squad appeared, the men and women clad in different shades of green, rushing towards the scene. The only distinguishing feature designating their uniformity were the sky-blue berets, helmets, arm bands, or stenciled UN logos.
"Private Williamson! Take point." Lieutenant Clarke ordered as the soldier went to the front, putting her M16 to her back and brandishing a Mossberg 500.
Team Leader Michelsen muscles her way through the crowd, seeing the collection of soldiers getting ready for an adventure. "Excuse me, what's happening over there? Something exciting?"
Lieutenant Clarke calms his stature down, facing the taller lady. "There has been a recent discovery, ma'am. Please stay back, we do not know if it is safe."
Team Leader Michelsen rolls her eyes at the usual response of an armed person to a civilian. "Safe or not, I need to see it. This could be a once in a lifetime opportunity both for us and College!"
Stroeus stepped in, seeing that another point had to be made. "I understand your excitement, however these ruins really are dangerous. Draugrs roam the halls and traps are plentiful."
"Believe you me, we've survived cave ins, earthquakes, and other natural disasters, this is nothing to us." Team Leader Michelsen pulled out her Browning Hi-Powered sidearm, a weapon given to her by the UN Mission.
Lieutenant Clarke put his M4 at the ready again and sighed. "There is no stopping her." He muttered to himself. "Stroeus, do you want to come?"
Stroeus conjured a sword in his hand, the purple blade acting like a ghost. "Of course, this damned ruin trapped me, and besides, you'll be facing something else entirely here."
Stroeus and Private Williamson took the lead, with Tolfdir close behind, followed by the rest of the squad, Team Leader Michelsen, and another armed UNESCO researcher, who held his pistol with little confidence. The hallway twisted and turned, the only light source in the hallway was from flashlights, up until they reached what seemed to be an altar room.
The altar room was dark but had candles which seemed to be placed inside of goat horns. The flashlights showed three monolith-like statues, black as the night, and an altar that was curved towards where the group was coming from.
Team Leader Michelsen places a lamp on the table and turns it on. The white light washing over the room, the rest of the group staying behind in the hallway, whilst some went around touching and gawking at the Nordic artifacts, earning a quick lecture from Michelsen on the proper care and handling of artifacts.
Tolfdir stepped back, looking around at the room. "Why in the world would this be sealed off? What is this place?"
Team Leader Michelsen looks at some of the papers on the altar. "An altar in the centre, and two candle holders on top of it. Does this mean anything to you, Stroeus?"
Stroeus shrugs. "Not that I'm aware of, I'm not a local as you might've gathered. Tolfdir?"
"I am unsure myself. I've never seen this before." Tolfdir mentions.
Aela looks at the room from afar again. "Neither do I. I've been in many ruins before but there was never a pattern using altars."
Stroeus at this point goes stiff for a moment, and as quickly as he goes stiff, he almost goes limp, almost losing his balance for a moment. The sounds of steel plate boots shuffling on stone go off as he regains his footing.
Lieutenant Clarke sees this, moving fast and putting his hand on Stroeus' shoulder. "Are you alright, friend?"
Stroeus rubs the bridge of his nose, sword dissipating. "Did anyone else see that?"
"See what?" Private Axelsson asks.
Stroeus looks about the room again, before sighing in defeat. "None of you saw the elf in a bright brown hooded outfit? He introduced himself to be part of the Psijic Order."
"The Psijic Order? Are you sure about that?" Tolfdir placed a finger under his chin.
"I don't think my hearing is that bad yet, but yes that's what he said." Stroeus said.
A thud was heard from one of the coffins. The entire room goes stiff and weapons are raised. The thuds grew louder and louder and more frequently, more violently even. Until the obsidian-like cover fell off, breaking into many great pieces. Standing before them was the literal walking dead.
"Draugr! Quickly, get behind us!" Stroeus charges in, purple blade in hand, entering into a fight with the lumbering beast.
Private Williamson was at the center-front. She instinctively vaulted over the altar, throwing papers about and blasted the draugr in front of her in the chest, pulling back the cocking mechanism of the shotgun and then pushing it back to deliver a second blast towards the head, causing it to stop moving.
As Stroeus was busy with one draugr, Lieutenant Clarke and Team Leader Michelsen teamed up and poured rounds into the last one. After two bursts from Lieutenant Clarke's M4, the draugr died permanently.
Aela pulls out a torch and some flint and steel, acting quickly to light the torch. "Quickly, burn their bodies! They'll reanimate if you don't!"
Private Williamson turns around from the draugr. "Looks dead enough to me." However they had began reanimating and fast as they got up again. Grabbing their fallen weapons and getting ready to swing.
"Williamson, move!" Private Watts runs up to her and pushes her away as the sword comes down.
The sword annihilated everything on the table, including the lamp. Private Williamson was still recovering from the push, however Private Watts, in a fit of panic, switched his L85A2 into full-auto, and poured half his magazine. The most unexpected thing had happened as the tracer rounds impacted the draugr, causing it to set the draugr ablaze, falling over and permanently dying.
Stroeus finished his draugr, casting Flames to immolate his target, before switching to the other draugr which Lieutenant Clarke was pouring more rounds into. Grabbing a dagger, he threw it at the draugr, disorienting it. Just enough time for Lieutenant Clarke and Team Leader Michelsen to get out of there, and for Private Yevgenievich to let loose a stream of rounds, the tracer bullets in the belt setting the last draugr ablaze as well, permanently killing it.
Stroeus looks back at the group. "Well done. These ruins are chock full of these Draugr, and even more traps. It is best we clear out every coffin from now on. The deeper we go the more powerful they will be."
"Yes indeed, friends. Will there be anymore… draugr that will be coming out of these coffins here?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
"Plenty, these ruins are normally filled with anywhere between five to fifty of them." Aela answers.
Sergeant Sheikh chimes in. "But what about these coffins specifically?"
Stroeus answered this time. "No, these are coffins for one Nord… Draugr specifically. How many there are in a ruin I do not know, however, the larger the ruin, the more there will be."
"Watts, Yevgenievich, come here for a moment." Lieutenant Clarke brought the two men closer as an order.
"How did you set the… dead on fire?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
"Luck, sir?" Private Watts replies back, dumbfounded.
Private Yevgenievich thought carefully, Was it the tracer rounds? They could set things on fire in theory given how their light emitting chemical compositions in the bullets were heat based, perhaps it was that?
Private Yevgenevich shot up with his idea. "Lieutenant, what if the tracer rounds set them on fire?"
Lieutenant Clarke thought about this too, perhaps they were right? Private Williamson's shotgun rounds didn't kill the draugr, neither did Clarke's own M4 do the job either. But when Privates Watts and Yevgenievich stepped in with their tracer rounds, it did set them on fire and kill them finally.
"Private Watts, how many rounds do you have left?" Lieutenant Clarke asked as he cleared off the entire altar with one arm, placing the knocked over lamp on the altar.
Tolfdir panics a bit at the brashness of the lieutenant. "Please be careful with the altar! We do not know if the lack or presence of the lamps may trigger something!
"Sorry, friend. Sergeant Sheikh! Send someone to get 3rd Squad, have them post up defensive positions here." Lieutenant Clarke orders as Private Watts places his magazines on the table, counting them.
Private Watts removes the current magazine from his L85A2 assault rifle and counts the rounds inside it. "I've seven mags, this one's got 15 rounds, sir."
"Take them out and separate the tracers from the other rounds." Lieutenant Clarke said as he gathered the rest of the squad over.
Privates Watts and De La Croix began removing the rounds painstakingly and segregating them by tracer rounds and everything else, soon declaring there were 75 tracer rounds with him. Private Yevgenevich began to pull out the belt of his PKP Pecheneg, however soon stopped after realizing no one else used 7.62x54R.
Lieutenant Clarke soon after brought out his magazines and began to remove the contents of it, stuffing them with some of the tracer rounds. "Everyone remove the bullets from your magazines and replace some of them with the tracer rounds."
The rest of the unit who utilized the 5.56x45mm round began unloading some of the contents of their magazines, swapping them for the 12 alloted tracer rounds. The plan was that anyone who did not use NATO rounds were going to be expending more rounds to bring any draugr down, and then anyone with a tracer round would then permanently kill the draugr. Stroeus and Tolfdir had offered to keep their Flame spells on themselves to help this process.
The 3rd Squad soon arrived from down the hall, the rest of the 2nd Squad filing out of the way and deeper into the ruin. They go down the hall, Private Williamson still in the lead. The hallway went to the right and then to a gated area, where Stroeus, after checking the otherside for traps, he pulled the lever and opened the gate.
The darkness of the room helped no one as the flashlights shone about everywhere. They had to give it to the draugr. They were exceptionally quiet creatures despite being dead and cumbersome in movement. However, what gave them away was their blue glowing eyes. Four sets of sapphire blue eyes shot up and began shambling forward. The flashlights shone on them and the action started again.
"Take them down!" Sergeant Sheikh pulled the trigger of his Type 56 repeatedly, having left it on semi-automatic for more accuracy.
Another blast from Private Williamson yet again brought the lead draugr low, as Private Axelsson put a three round burst into the unarmored parts of the risen dead, setting it aflame as a tracer round fired off as well.
Stroeus engaged in a sword dance, one he was winning with each strike, before it knelt down in a recovery stance. Stroeus wasted no time striking it down one last time before swallowing it in a blast of fire.
Similarly, Private Qin had finally laid one low, pointing his QBZ-95 at the next one, however the one he had supposedly killed started to rise again, but Tolfdir ended that when he put his hands together in front of him and casted Flames, incinerating the dead body and then moving onto the next one. All four draugr were now dead, permanently.
"Stick closer, the deeper we go inside, the better armed Draugr there are. Also, do you remember when we fought those dragons, and I became almost spirit-like and forced them down? The Draugr are also capable of that" Stroeus tells the people behind them as he pushes open a set of black doors.
"So what do we do?" Lieutenant Clarke asks.
"Dodge it, the second and third words always have a short delay before being said. If you can't then hope you don't hit your head."
The next chamber they open is much taller, allowing for more air to be trapped inside. As a result it was much colder. Every breath drawn made mist. They took yet another right and saw a draugr once again, which was quickly dispatched by Private Yevgenievich with a five round burst from his machine gun, setting it on fire as well. The team spends a good portion of the time checking the lower parts, disregarding the stairs for the meantime. The word "Clear!" being yelled out every now and then.
Team Leader Michelsen looks at the stairs and takes the initiative to go up just a bit before stopping and alerting the group. "Hey! I think we go up from here on out."
Lieutenant Clarke makes a hand gesture in the air to rally his unit. "Watts! Take point!"
Private Watts takes point as he moves to the front, three others stacked behind him as they go up the stairs. Where they see a draugr, who seemed to be prepared for them. It opened its mouth and muttered words they could not quite understand, up until the blast of bluish-white force shot out. Privates Watts, Madsen, De La Croix, Corporal Sang-Hoon, and Michelsen are all thrown towards the opposite wall, the wind knocked out of them.
"Frag it!" Lieutenant Clarke yelled as Private Yevgenievich pulled a grenade hanging from his vest.
Pulling the pin, Private Yevgenievich yelled. "Frag out!" as he threw the grenade. The cast-iron cylinder lands close enough to kill the draugr and not send shrapnel towards the five. Upon its explosion, it tossed the draugr over the edge, taking its legs and it's right arm along with it. It was sure to be dead, but to be sure, Stroeus incinerated it with a Flames spell.
Corporal Bæk rushed upstairs accompanied by the rest of the squad. He began checking on Michelsen first, since she is one of the few in the group who did not have a helmet on. Pressing on the back of a flashlight on his helmet, checking her head for concussions. Deeming her fit for more action, he moved onto the others who were up and about by now.
Team Leader Michelsen was still a bit dizzy, but still had to uphold the preservation of artifacts. "Stop using your grenades! There are priceless artefacts in here that need to be preserved!"
Lieutenant Clarke was perplexed at this. He understood the importance of the preservation of the artefacts, but five lives were on the line. "Ma'am, five of you were going to die. I needed to act immediately."
Team Leader Michelsen was not going down without a fight. "And you think pulling and throwing a grenade is quicker than you gunning down a literal walking zombie? What if the grenade had bounced off the wall or floor and into us?"
Lieutenant Clarke saw the logic in this, but he had to at least defend himself. "And what if it got to you first before we could stop it?"
"At the speed those things walk? There were half of you left standing, I'm pretty sure you're all more than capable of taking down a walking corpse before it gets to us!" Team Leader Michelsen retorted back.
Stroeus with a sigh steps up between the two of them before words become blows. "Both of you calm down! Infighting is not going to get us anywhere. Both of you make valid points, but we can discuss this later then we're out of danger!"
The two of them glare at each other before separating. They both go back to the lead by a door, leaving the rest of the group slightly tense. Lieutenant Clarke cuts through the tension. "Don't just stand there. Come on!"
The rest of them pile up and breach the next door. Eyes were fixed on the depressions in the walls, where wrapped bodies lay, watching and seeing if they would move. It was still dark, but thankfully no blue eyes appeared, and all seemed well, until they reached another gate with triangular obelisks.
Tolfdir notices the lever, looks around the room and the obelisks, and comes to a conclusion. "Ah, it seems we've run into a puzzle."
"Any idea how to bypass it, Tolfdir?" Stroeus asks as a UNESCO researcher popped a flare.
Tolfdir looks at the walls behind the obelisks. "There should be some form of clue in the room, look around."
The rest of the group used five flairs to illuminate the area properly without having to point a flashlight at one place the entire time. Stroeus and Tolfdir move the obelisks around, to the dismay of Team Leader Michelsen and her fellow researcher.
"Are we sure with this combination?"Tolfdir asks as he looks at each obelisk again
Stroeus shrugs as he grips the lever. "I think this should be right, unless we've misread or missed something."
Stroeus pulls the lever, and in a split second the sounds of a mechanism rings out. The gate does not open, but the holes in the walls begin to fire projectiles at an astounding rate. Most of the group was fine, dodging out of the way, or projectiles striking kevlar and ceramic. Lieutenant Clarke however was able to dive in time to avoid the projectiles, or so he thought.
As Lieutenant Clarke stood up, he saw a pointed projectile lodged in his forearm. On instinct he pulled it out of himself, dropping it on the floor, and applying pressure to it. "Sound off!" He yelled.
Axelsson went first, declaring. "I'm hit."
Followed closely by Williamson, Carver, and Qin. Corporal Bæk rushed to the nearest one to him, looking at the wounds. Lieutenant Clarke looked at himself again, and noticed that there were three more projectiles on his plate carrier, none of them penetrating hits.
Lieutenant Clarke's vision went blurry. He sat down to avoid panicking. Next he had a hard time hearing, was this shock setting in and adrenaline going away? It probably was, but when Corporal Bæk got to him, the medic was yelling at him already as he seemed to fail to respond to any stimuli. He had begun sweating as well, which was very odd considering how cold it was down here.
Stroeus recognized what happened and began digging through his satchel. "Aela, how many antidotes do you have?"
Aela similarly went and checked her own inventory. "I have plenty enough, I always stock up on potions and antidotes."
"Spread out the antidotes! Quickly, some of them are about to pass out!" Corporal Bæk grabs the antidotes and hands them out to those who weren't hit, instructing them to have the injured drink them immediately.
At this point, Lieutenant Clarke and the others began to hyperventilate, some of them began to remove their coats. Some panicked that they could not breathe. Some of the others went limp. Lieutenant Clarke however started to feel numb in more areas other than his arm.
Lieutenant Clarke was on the verge of passing out, but at the last moment he felt himself being lifted to a more upright position but still on the floor. Aela removed the cork cover from the antidote bottle, and used the spout to part his lips. He simply drank it, he was too weak from the poison to taste the components of the potion. Soon after he passed out, the last thing he saw was Private De La Croix performing first aid on his arm.
One hour later
Lieutenant Clarke felt cold. Colder than usual, he opened his eyes and saw his coat on him like a blanket. He sat up, looking left and right, seeing the others. Some of those who were injured were already up and about, some were still on the floor. The presence of 2nd Squad's medic and a few others were also noticeable as they tended to Private Qin.
Stroeus stepped into Lieutenant Clarke's sight and kneeled down. "Hey you, you're finally awake. I was worried for a second back there."
"What happened while I fell asleep, friend?" Lieutenant Clarke asks as he removes his blue helmet and runs his hand through his scalp.
"Nothing much, one of yours called for more healers. We've been waiting for about a good portion of an hour." Stroeus fills his Terran friend in.
Lieutenant Clarke attempted to get up, but fell as his right arm was injured. He was helped up by Stroeus however. He wasn't embarrassed, not one bit. He knew his limitations and knew to respect them lest he were to harm himself. He tried to lift his carbine, aiming it, but realized his right arm could not support the weight. For now he would have to rely on his sidearm.
Aela and Stroeus spoke between themselves in regards to supplies. They noted that in the event this happened again, they'd have just enough for three or four more people. Hopefully the weather above ground would be clear enough for a MEDEVAC to be called for.
Lieutenant Clarke walked up to them soon enough. "Have we gotten through the puzzle thing yet, friends?"
"Not yet, unfortunately. Taking care of all of you became priority." Stroeus replied back.
After getting everyone up, it was decided that Private Qin would be sent back due to his leg injury. To the protests of both medics, the rest of the injured were fine to go since they could still fight with sidearms. Magazines were swapped around since most of the unit used STANAG magazine compatible guns.
Learning from their lessons, the rest of the group was now hiding behind the pillars after thoroughly searching through the walls, looking for the holes the projectiles could come out of. It was determined that the holes were only found in a portion of the hallway. After getting the obelisks correctly, and with the use of a rope, the lever was pulled and the gate opened.
They filled through the door, Sergeant Sheikh now sporting the shotgun. The hallway beyond bent right again, and a door was opened, leading them to another tall and wide chamber. The group split into two elements under the command of Lieutenant Clarke, and began climbing up the two sides of the platform, where a draugr was waiting for them.
Sergeant Sheikh let loose a storm of buckshot balls. The draugr fell over, its abdomen a mess of dead flesh, which burst from Private Watts' L85A2 finishing the deed as the draugr caught fire. They quickly go through the door, fanning out and seeing that the darkness did not reveal any sapphire eyes, and make their way through, taking the right bend again.
Aela spreads her arms wide, stopping the group. "Be careful, there's a trap ahead of us."
Private First Class Carver looked at the trap, which was easy with his height advantage. "How do we disarm it?"
"Stand a ways away. The blast might be large." Stroeus gestures as he grabs a rock.
After everyone was at a safe distance, Stroeus threw a sizable rock at the rune trap. As the stone made contact, the rune dissipated and let loose shots of lightning, lighting up the room in a bright blue hue temporarily. It dissipates soon enough and the rest of them push on.
They find themselves in a large hallway. It looked like a small storm drain in the older parts of old European cities, but there was no water. What there was however was another puzzle, much to the amusement of the group. Flares were popped and strewn about again, this time giving off a white hue as the rest of the team checked around for clues on which picture the obelisks needed to be.
Tolfdir moves one of the obelisks again and it sets the others to reset to another image. "This one seems much more complicated than the last. Best if only a few of us come in for now."
"You heard our him, friends. Let's go back to the other hallway." Lieutenant Clarke orders as the rest of them file back.
After a few minutes the team, with all caution, finally took cover. Tolfdir, Stroeus, Aela, and Team Leader Michelsen were discussing, they were sure at this point, after having to reset a few times, that this combination was sure to work. Corporal Sang-Hoon checked the knots on the rope where they could pull it from safety, it all seemed fine and would indeed work.
Privates Yevgenievich and Axelsson were peeking from the corner, taking cover, but were very curious. Private Axelsson asked the first question. "So, what happens if they get it wrong?"
Private Yevgenievich shrugs, keeping his eyes glued at the four. "Then they have to be fast enough I guess."
"But what if they're not?" Private Axelsson shoots back.
Private Yevgenievich tries to think positively. "Then I guess we will have to hope for clear skies and fast helicopters."
As soon as their question and answer session came to a close, the four of them came running back, taking cover as well. Team Leader Michelsen took the rope. "Get back!" and pulled.
The sound of the projectiles being shot were heard, and a collective strained sigh came from everyone. They would have to try again.
It took them nearly 20 minutes until the sweet sound of the gates coming open were heard. They went through the rest of the hallway fast enough, missing the traps with the trained eyes of the group, and marking them with empty potion bottles for the rest of the research team to mark and disarm if possible. They soon reach another set of dark, metal double doors. Opening it led to a downward set of stairs.
Reaching the base, the room was filled with a green-blue hue. It was still dark but it was still noticeably giving off some light. But what was the most curious part of this room, aside from its size, was the large blue orb in the middle of the room.
Tolfdir steps closer to the edge of the balcony, mesmerized at the orb and its magic. "What in Oblivion is that? I've never seen something like that before. And the raw magic power coming from it is astounding."
Stroeus stretches out his hand, watching out for his friend and mentor. "Careful, Tolfdir, we're still in the ruins. It seems like we're in the main chamber, any amount of stronger Draugr could be here."
The rest of the 2nd Squad began to throw the white flairs, popping them and then chucking them to the farthest reaches of the room first, and then closer and closer to their location. The rest of them got down to the main level.
Private First Class Carver pointed his L131A1 at the draugr on his seat. "Contact! It isn't moving though."
As if on queue, the draugr with a horned helmet began moving. The joints snapping as they began moving after being locked in place for who knows how long. Private FIrst Class Carver began to unload the contents of the magazine. The bullets seemed to do nothing. He simply thought the round was too small, but the exposed parts seemed to also have no effect. The rest of the unit saw this, and seeing that it was the only draugr, they began to focus fire on it. Every weapon available was fired into it, staggering the beast. But not bringing it down.
"Stroeus! Tolfdir! It is still moving, friends!" Lieutenant Clarke yelled out.
"Buy me some time! I think this Draugr is related to the Orb. Stroeus, delay it!" Tolfdir runs down the stairs as fast as he can.
Stroeus summons two purple swords once again. "On my way, Aela, on me. Wuld Na Kest!"
The plate armor clad Breton tackled the draugr to the ground and drove one of his blades into it, as expected it did nothing. Getting back up, he got into a defensive position. They clash blades, the draugr seemingly having the upper hand.
Private De La Croix crouched from the balcony, and brought his FN SCAR-H up to aim. The 6x scope helped in his precision. With the squeeze of the trigger he sends a 7.62x51mm round, aimed at the head of the draugr. The round hits the shoulder, due in part to how close they are to each other. Nonetheless the draugr stumbles around, allowing Stroeus to get some breathing room.
"Good shot, but aim for the head the next time, yeah?" Aela lets loose another arrow, seemingly made out of bones.
The only thing Aela got in response from the Frenchman was a click of the tongue as he sent another round out, hitting the draugr right in the head this time, evident from the bend of its neck.
"Better?" Private De La Croix sarcastically asks.
Aela gives him a small smile without looking. "Much better! Keep it up!"
"I'm almost done, just keep fighting it!" Tolfdir yells as he keeps his hands up, disrupting the energy field of the orb.
Stroeus backs away to regain his strength and stamina for a moment, giving Private Watts and Corporal Bæk letting loose with their rifles, having switched out their magazines for those completely clear of tracer rounds as to not waste whatever tracer rounds they had left. The draugr seemed to tap into its experiences and fired two spikes of ice at the two, both being hit.
The spike seemed to be thrown harder than usual since it penetrated the first kevlar lining, as seen by Corporal Bæk, who took the ice shard out and felt the ceramic plate insert. Getting back up, he saw Private Watts goaning for a moment. Seizing the opportunity, Bæk, pulled his subordinate further back to safety.
"Fuck! It hit me right in the kevlar only zone." Private Watts got back up, a protest from the medic followed.
"I need to patch that wound up first at least. Now stay still." Corporal Bæk opened his first aid kit.
Private Watts cringes as the antiseptic is applied."I'm requesitioning that fucking modular vest when we get back."
Tolfidr screams, looking back to the group. "Now! It should be vulnerable!"
"Open fire!" Lieutenant Clarke yells as he unloads the contents of his Glock 19.
For a moment the whole room is filled with the white-yellow flashes of their guns. Near defenseless, the draugr is riddled with holes of varying sizes. This time instead of being staggered it falls down, ceasing to move. It caught fire sometime before it even hit the ground. It was no longer in one piece as well.
What else was noticeable however was that the field around the orb was now gone as well. Allowing for Tolfdir to move much closer to the orb, alongside anyone else who is curious enough.
Lieutenant Clarke goes down the stairs, and points his pistol at the charred corpse of the draugr. He put two more rounds in its head before the gun's slide locked open, indicating it was now empty. "It's dead. Clear!"
Stroeus puts out one of his purple blades. "I'll go through the Draugr, see if I can find anything useful. Treat your men."
"Corporal Bæk, see to it everyone injured is treated. Private Madsen, contact 3rd Squad, tell them to make a sweep of our route. The rest of you, secure this position" Lieutenant Clarke ordered.
Tolfdir made his way to the injured lieutenant. "I apologize for taking a long time to bring down the barrier, it was much stronger than I had anticipated."
"It is okay, friend. No one expected this uh… ball to be down here either." Lieutenant Clarke responded back politely.
"In truth, I never expected anything like this to be this deep in the ruins. I must return to the College and inform the Archmage. But someone needs to watch over this, could you call Stroeus over for me?"
After a short yell across the hall, Stroeus arrives, his pockets maybe a bit more full. He is then informed to go back to the College of Winterhold to inform his superiors of the current findings in Saarthal.
Team Leader Michelsen holstered her Browning Hi-Powered at this point. Eventually she did wander off, examining the orb first, and then found a door. "Hold on, what's this back here?"
Stroeus gets to Michelsen before the rest of the peacekeepers do. "I think this might be a shortcut of sorts, some of the larger ruins tend to have these."
"Clear it out, friends." Lieutenant Clarke says as Corporal Sang-Hoon leads the breaching element.
They follow the hallway further down, taking the only right. The hallway soon ends and switches to what seems to be a proper cave, with the exception of a stone concave wall.
"What is that?" Corporal Sang-Hoon asks.
Stroeus' eyes light up at the scene. "Ahh you mean the Word Wall. I was expecting something like this to be down here, step aside for a minute."
Stroeus stepped up to the word wall, and light seemed to absorb himself. Stroeus seemed fine despite being exposed to light so suddenly. He seemed to enjoy it in fact. He breathed in deeply and exhaled.
"What… Did you do? What did the wall do?" Lieutenant Clarke asked, while in a state of awe.
"I am something called a Dragonborn, symbolically, I represent the end of all Skyrim's foes. Additionally, I have the ability to absorb dragon souls and use them to learn new Words of Power, like the times I've shown you already." Stroeus tries to explain.
Stroeus opened another door, and led the way. "I can explain it in better detail when we're out of the dungeon. For now, let's return to the College and inform the Archmage."
The rest of the way was safe for the most part. Except for the part when 1st and 2nd Squads nearly killed them for appearing from seemingly nowhere, causing someone to shout as they heard another metal door open. "Here! I heard something."
Lieutenant Clarke stepped out slowly from the short hallway. "Calm down! It's us!"
Sergeant Linehan lowered his Steyr AUG, breathing out in relief. "Oh thank God."
The rest of the team got out, finally in friendly territory again. Sergeant Linehan filled in Lieutenant Clarke almost immediately, saying that Sergeant Şÿrÿfaddinsoy and his squad has secured most of the Nordic ruin, and were about to reach the last chamber at this rate, alongside with the need for Private Qin to be airlifted out since the numbness in his leg came back.
Stroeus was more than eager to help as he helped carry the stretcher out to the surface. Lieutenant Clarke also accompanied the young man out, a courtesy more than a formality. As they got out to the surface, the faint sound of helicopter blades was heard throughout the snow covered valley. It was now nighttime, the other indication of the medical rescue being the green and red lights blinking in the distance.
"You're going to be alright, okay?" Lieutenant Clarke told his Chinese subordinate.
"I am not going back home, am I, sir? I like this place, it's fresh." Private Qin jokes.
Lieutenant Clarke laughed genuinely. Raising his voice a bit more as the helicopter got closer. "It's just some antibiotics, and a little bit of therapy, friend. It's a shallow wound."
At some point, one of the peacekeepers pops a red flare, since the helicopter was veering away from Saarthal. After a few moments it veered back on course. Soon enough it was right on them. All sound drowned out by the aircraft's powerful engines and rotor blades. The UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter began landing, its searchlights illuminating the place. Everyone had to cover their faces with their arms, even if they were already covered by their gear.
Upon closer inspection, the helicopter was now slathered in white, with both the UN signs and the red cross on it as well, making clear as day as to who owned it, and where its allegiance belonged, for the time being anyway. A door slid open and medics rushed to them, grabbing the stretcher and asking. "What the hell happened to him?"
Lieutenant Clarke yelled as the rotors drained out all sound. "He got hit by a poison-tipped projectile. The wound is shallow, I think the firing mechanism was pressurized air."
The medic looked at the wound as he helped get the stretcher on-board. "Yeah, he should be fine. It could be the cold, hopefully not anything else." The medic looks at Private Qin and gives him a thumbs up. "You're gonna be alright, kid!"
"As long as I get there without my health insurance being declined!" Private Qin bantered.
The medic got in, preparing to close the door. "Don't worry, your true communism should save you."
Lieutenant Clarke laughed at the exchange, at least they were cooperating. Helping the medics, he closed the door for them. On cue, the pitch of the whir of the engines began to rise.
Stroeus looked as the helicopter lifted off, finally removing his arm from his face "I would normally ask what all those were, but I need to reach the Archmage as fast as possible. Stay safe out here."
Lieutenant Clarke extended a hand to shake, which Stroeus accepted. "Alright. You stay safe out there too! You may as well stay the night in the college, it would be safer."
After their goodbyes they parted ways, both heading back to their respective objectives. Both knew however that this ordeal with the orb was far from over. Perhaps it would even get much more complicated.