Wow, it's ten chapters already? Not bad.

NoSkillzOnlyHax - I cartainly do not mind long reviews, that's for sure. xD Sure, Dwemers deserve more... and they kinda do get more, they played quite an important role in Dagoth's schemes. At one point developers even planned to have a quest in Morrowind that, while still focused on fetching, would be much more interesting than what Antabolis asked for - the player was supposed to steal the schematics of Numidium, artificial god-machine of Dwemer, from the citadels of Red Mountain. Sadly, it was cut out of the final game, though there are still codes left in the game... Why does Bethesda always cut out the best content? And no, Ted isn't going to become so overpowered anytime soon - he prefers to rely on cunning rather than brute strength. For many chapters he won't even bother to learn more than one word for most shouts.

Mehrunes Dragonbro - I know how that feels - both the urge to play after reading a good fanfiction and, sadly, also the inability of playing. Don't worry though - unless your PC doesn't have 2 GB of RAM, you should be fine as long as you don't use graphics mods. Since Morrowind is 14 years old, most computers will run it without much problems. All of that is pointless though if uni steals our entire time, whether we want to play or write. : (

Here we go.

Ashu-Ahhe frowned. For a second he thought he heard a distant roar, but after few seconds of silence he shrugged and returned to polishing his enchanted armor.

For a moment, everything was silent... That actually made the greatest warrior of Erabenimsun pause - there was no sound, as if the entire camp out of nowhere decided to hold their breath.

And then the very earth under Ashu-Ahhe's feet shook. The Dunmer grabbed his trusty sword and rushed outside.

That lizard, Rothsomething, was right in front of him, looking down with squinted eyes and bared teeth. The warrior silently cursed the fact that he didn't have his Mountain Spirit armor on. The beast looked hostile. Fortunately, he misread the signs. Kind of.

"Ashu-Ahhe!" roared the monster. "I have learned of your misdeeds! You dare to call yourself a warrior when you are willing to hurt defenseless and weak! Those like you are the reason other tribes look down upon yours!"

Anger flared within the Dunmer's heart at those insults. At this point, the roaring dragon had gathered a crowd of tribesmen, who looked at him with either resentment or strange, expressionless faces. The warrior made a mental note to have some serious talk with the last group. Now, however, he had to protect his honor.

"How dare you to say that about me, the most powerful of all Erabenimsun?! Your lies will cost you your life! I challenge you to battle to the death! Refuse and you will forever be seen as a coward!"

The dragon smiled deviously.

"You can't challenge me, little mortal! You can't... because I challenge YOU! We will settle this on the crossroads north of the camp at noon. Prepare yourself, for I do not intend to lose."

Ashu-Ahhe harrumphed and returned to his yurt. Rotheimaak continued to look at the place in which the warrior stood before, however his scowl slowly changed into grin. Manirai, the Wise Woman of Erabenimsun, walked up to him.

"Are you certain you can beat him, Thunder-Lizard? He is a powerful opponent."

"No. But I can't wait to find out." The dragon looked at her. "I have a request, Wise Woman. There's something that we need to convince Han-Ammu to accept the responsibility of leading the tribe. Three objects of power, three symbols that would let his Zii soar. I obviously cannot bring them myself, not with limbs like these." Rotheimaak moved slightly his massive wings. "I'm afraid you will have to bring them instead."

"I hope they aren't too far?"

"No. Go south, and you will soon understand what items I was talking about. Please, hurry. We need to have them before my battle with Ashu-Ahhe ends."

Even Azirra's parents wouldn't recognize her right now... That is, if they knew her at all in the first place.

Her legs were covered by iron greaves, which proved give solid protection. Making a hole for her tail was a last-minute feature she came up with - fortunately most cheap armors, like this one, had pelt in place of metal when it came to this particular area, so she could take care of it herself. Her torso was protected by steel cuirass and on her head was a matching helmet. The armor was quite heavy; however, it wasn't as bad as she expected. Whoever made the last part clearly didn't have a Khajiit in mind - there was a space for her ears, but only just enough. The rest of her body was clothed in her set of traveling clothes and at her hip rested a scabbard with an enchanted iron sword.

To put it short, she felt dangerous. She liked it.

What she didn't like was the sun. Her armor got even more annoying after it was warmed by its rays. Fortunately, if the directions provided by Hasphat Antabolis were correct, she didn't have to worry about it for much longer. She already passed a crossroad, and to her right stood the imperial fort. She could see the big Dwemer bridge at the top of the hill she was currently climbing.

Wow, those dwarves sure could build well... A few thousands of years and it's still standing.

The outside of the Dwemer ruins was in a much poor condition. While the entrance itself was well preserved, the surrounding pipes and two towers where in bad shape. One of them even partially collapsed near the roof, showing some of the interior, though most of it was still hidden in shadow.

Azirra had a feeling she wasn't alone. A big splotch of dried blood in front of the entrance clued her in.

This mission keeps getting better and better.

The Khajiit looked around. From what she was told about this particular type of the door, the revolving one, was opened by a lever near the entry. Soon she noticed it on a nearby pipe and pulled. With a screech the door started to open. She walked inside.

There wasn't much to see at first. Just a long, broad ledge with a big cavern opening to her left, some crates near the entry and a pipe on the wall. It was kind of a letdown. The door closed behind her on its own.

"What was that?"

Azirra froze. Of course, there would be bandits, why wouldn't there be any? The Khajiit quickly casted the only disguising spell in her repertoire, Shadow Form. To her relief, it worked - her body shimmered and changed colour to fit the surroundings just before a Nord entered from the opposing end. Judging by his lack of armor, they weren't actually a bandit, but still a shady character... A smuggler, yes, that must be it.

"Strange. I thought I heard the door open."

Oh, thank you Divines! It was dark enough for her to remain unnoticed even only with her rather weak spell. The Nord shook his head and sat on the edge, looking at the cave below. Azirra frowned. Could have been worse, but it's still not too good. How much longer would her disguise remain? Twenty seconds, maybe less? She had to take the smuggler down now, when she could still surprise him.

She took a silent step towards the man. A second. Third. Several more. She was now halfway. Another step. One more.

*clang*

The Nord jumped to his feet at the sound of her cuirass connecting with greaves and Azirra cursed. With the element of surprise gone, she sprinted over to the criminal just as he turned around. Before he had a chance to draw his weapon, she kicked him in the nuts. The Nord leaned forward and, too focused on total atomic annihilation occurring in crotch area, he failed to defend himself when the Khajiit grabbed his shoulders and pushed with all of her strength, sending him over the edge.

*THUD*

Azirra looked with an open mouth at what was left of the Nord smuggler at the bottom of the cave.

Did I really do all of that? I... I never thought I could be so... awesome.

"Cristus?! Oh no..."

Another smuggler appeared in her field of view, this time an Imperial. He immediately looked up to where his ally used to sit and spotted her.

"Intruder! You will die where you stand!" screamed the man, and he ran to the other end of the cavern, where a primitive set of stairs made of boulders started and led all the way to the ledge. Azirra breathed in and out.

Just take aim and fire. That's all.

Azirra extended all her fingers and pointed at the incoming Imperial, sending a Greater Shockball in his direction. There was no way for him to dodge, since it was aimed at his feet and it was a spell with area effect. The Imperial fell on his knees screaming in pain, clearly not used to magical damage. Azirra wasted no time and ran down the stairs while at the same time pulling out her sword. Without any hesitation, she raised it above her head and slashed. And again. And again. And again.

...

When the body of the man joined his friend at the bottom of the cave, Azirra could only look at herself covered in blood.

Third, she thought with strange calmness. That's the third man I have killed.

After few seconds of thoughtfulness, she put the blade back into the scabbard, not bothering to clean it. Chances were it would be only dirtied once more soon enough.

Once she reached the end of the stairs, she found herself with a dilemma. There were not two, not three, not even four, but five possible paths for her to take. Three doors were under the ledge and one more on higher level, to the left. She could also go down the corridor right next to the stairs, further away from the exit. Antabolis said the puzzle box was probably near the entrance, but there were two problems with that. One, it was probably near the entrance. Two, she didn't know what stood for 'near' when it came to Dwemer ruins.

In the end, she decided to try as close to the entrance as possible, with the higher door. Jumping from one rock to another she reached the middle platform, grasped the handle of the door, and peeked in.

The room was small, with some sort of machinery in the middle. There were shelves in two corners and a table in the third. Most of the space was taken by several barrels and crates. Also, on one of them was sitting a man.

He was an Imperial in the age of fifty. He was ahead of his companions when it came to defense, since unlike them he actually wore a cuirass, and an iron one at that. Azirra tensed - there was no chance he missed her. And yet... He seemed oddly... Unresponsive.

"Hello?" said Azirra, surprised at the lack of reaction.

"If you want to kill me, outsider, just do so. Better you than the dragon."

Azirra once again allowed any potential nearby fly to visit her mouth.

Dragon?! He saw it?! It was real?!

"D-dragon?"

"Yes. He appeared three days ago on this mountain when it was my shift on the bridge," stated somberly smuggler. "He shrugged off my spell as if it was nothing, so I escaped down there. I haven't left the room ever since. The other men didn't believe me, but at night, one of them tried to escape. All for nothing, the beast was guarding the exit. Ever since then, we have been stuck. Well, at least now the rest don't think I went senile."

Three days ago... The day I saw a dragon myself. Could this be the same one?

"The dragon is no longer on the mountain."

"I'm not going to risk my life just to find out if you are honest," grunted the old man.

"I'm not lying. I did manage to get in here, right? I wouldn't if he was still out there."

This caused his glassy look to suddenly sharpen.

"You... You are right. There's no chance you would manage to get past it unnoticed, so you must be saying the truth!" A broad smile appeared on his face and he jumped to his feet. Azirra took a step back, unnerved by the sudden mood swing. "There's no time to waste! The way may be open right now, but who knows if he'll return? I'm leaving right now, when it's still possible."

Azirra blinked as the Imperial passed her.

"Won't your boss get angry?"

"No worries, the dragon ate my boss. Thanks for the news, adventurer."

And he was gone, just like that. Azirra scratched her head.

"This land doesn't make any sense. Dragons, giant fleas, hanging moon, friendly thugs..."

The Khajiit decided that, since there was only one entrance to the room, it was the perfect situation to do some looting. She placed a big crate right next to the door to alert her to any new enemy and started to look for a small cube... And any shiny things worthy her time. Who said she couldn't have some additional profits?

The dragon and Dunmer eyed each other with contempt. It was clear that one of them would die on this day, even if the battle wasn't actually officially to the death. The other tribesmen sat on the nearby hills. Some of them wanted to see how the strange beast would get owned. Others were hoping the huge predator would be the one to tear his ambitious enemy apart. Between the two combatants stood Han-Ammu - being the only other Gulakhan in the camp at this moment meant he was to serve a role of an arbiter. Mind you, the only thing an arbiter does in the duels of Ashlanders is declare the beginning of a fight, mark its end and, from time to time, drag away the winner from the mutilated body of a loser.

"Are you both ready?"

Ashu-Ahhe said nothing, giving a silent confirmation.

"There's something I wish to say first," requested Rotheimaak. Han-Ammu nodded to show his permission. The dragon looked at his enemy and loudly, so that the others would hear as well, he said his part, "You are the last of the war loving Erabenimsun. I have confronted your former Ashkhan, Ulath-Pal, and forced him to leave this tribe and to never return. He fought, but in the end, he and his two companions had to accept my ultimatum. Once I beat you, peace and prosperity shall return to the tribe and a new, wise Ashkhan will be chosen to lead it... We live in the age of miracles and one is about to happen today. Brace yourself, Ashu-Ahhe, for now you will face the son of Bormahu, Rotheimaak, dragon of Red Mountain, which your tribe calls Thunder-Lizard."

Now, when everything was said and done, Han-Ammu nodded once more and took a deep breath.

"Begin!"

Nothing. No cube in sight. Antabolis was wrong, she had to go deeper.

Azirra sighed. Although more searching meant more loot, it also meant more danger. She had already filled half of her backpack with Dwemer metal, coins, tubes, bowls, mugs, pitchers, goblets (she was SO going to drink from one of them for the rest of her life, she was sure of it). She also packed a strange device, which was small but heavy. At first, she wanted to take a Dwemer cog too, but quickly changed her mind when she attempted to lift it. From non-Dwemer loot she had some red powder, which more likely than not was an alchemic ingredient of some kind.

With the room emptied in the way only a Khajiit truly is capable of, Azirra left the chamber to continue her search. After walking down the 'stairs' she faced a row of three doors.

"I guess the one to the right is closest to the entrance."

After passing through, she discovered it led not to a room, but a corridor. To the right was another door and to her left, crossroads. She decided to try her luck with the potential chamber first.

Too late occurred to her that if there's one thing she couldn't afford to trust, it's her luck. As soon as she put her hand on the handle, she was electrocuted and fell to her knees.

"ARGH!"

The door opened from the inside.

"Guys, I told you, no one enters my room without... Huh? Oh, that's rich, a little burglar got caught on my simple trap!"

Out of nowhere, the tip of a Dwemer spear pressed against her nose. Azirra froze. What to do, what to do...

"Let's see... Is there any reason for me to not kill you on the spot?"

Got it! Spears are deadly when piercing, but useless otherwise!

"I guess not... Too bad for y..."

Azirra thwacked the tip of the spear aside with a fast movement of her hand and closed the distance. The Imperial woman never stood a chance in such setting, especially with her lack of armor and other weapons.

The Khajiit grabbed the body of the smuggler and leaned her against the door to block them, doing her best to ignore the blood at her hands.

"That makes it four."

It was another room, this time with a pillar in the middle and machine in the back. A short search revealed the puzzle box wasn't there either. Her loot slightly increased in value, especially in Dwemer coins.

Just as Azirra decided that another strange device was too heavy to steal, something collapsed on the floor behind her. Knowing there was only one possibility, she whirled around and hit with a Spark another smuggler, who was just stepping over the dead body of his comrade. He groaned, but ignored the pain and charged her with a short sword in hand. Azirra pulled out her own.

She was disarmed in three seconds.

"Stupid cat. You think everyone here's deaf?" asked the Nord, pointing at her face with his blade. He thrusted, she dodged. He planned for her dodging too.

Azirra grasped her ear. There was now her blood on her fingers too.

"I will tear off your skin!"

The mage rolled aside and cast Poison at point-blank. The Nord hesitated and for a second, withheld his pursuit of a new rug when a wave of nausea hit him. Azirra, not feeling confident enough to attack the bear of a man with her claws alone, ran out of the room. The smuggler stood up straight, roared at the disappearance of his enemy, and jumped out of the door to pursue her...

Except that the Khajiit, instead of trying to escape, picked up the spear from the fallen enemy, hid herself behind a jam, and ambushed him from behind. For a second, the thug stood there, looking at the spear poking out of his chest, while Azirra, terrified by the fact he was still standing, let go of the weapon and took a few steps back.

"No... No, you can't be still alive, you bastard!" shouted Azirra at him, scared to death.

His only response was to slowly turn around and make a step in her direction. The blood was spilling from his mouth, but eyes were focused on her.

Azirra started to shake and cold dread immobilized her. She started to struggle only once two massive hands tightened around her throat and lifted her in the air.

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. She clawed at the arms, but with no success. In the middle of her darkening vision were two eyes, filled with murderous intent. Soon that was all she could see.

So, it was them that she attacked.

An already dead Nord fell on the floor, followed by a Khajiit who one second earlier jabbed his eyes with her long claws.

Ted was having trouble.

Despite wearing almost a full set of armor (which was also enchanted, mind you), the Dunmer proved to be a difficult target. He was always moving, never stopping for more than one second. The bastard must have realized Ted's main attack while on the ground was a powerful bite, so he made sure he could always move away. A single hit from his steel sword was too weak to truly hurt the dragon, but a dozen of them posed a certain risk. So far, with the exception of a few scratches, the warrior was fine, while Ted was slowly getting tired of this game.

The protagonist earned another jab to the snout, and decided enough was enough. With a flap of his wings, Rotheimaak moved just enough to be out of range of Ashu-Ahhe.

"What is this, do you forfeit the duel?" asked the Dunmer with amusement in his voice.

"You are indeed a strong warrior, Ashu-Ahhe. You recognized what is my most powerful attack on the ground and did everything to avoid it. I honestly applaud you for that," said the dragon calmly. "Do not think however you have the upper hand. Until now, I have been merely judging your Mul, strength, and reflexes. A proper clash begins now."

Rotheimaak landed with a heavy thud and immediately attacked. Just as he expected, Ashu-Ahhe jumped aside to avoid what he expected to be a bite. Instead of moving his neck away from the warrior, however, he did the total opposite and rammed him with the side of the head. Once the Dunmer was on the ground, the dragon breathed in.

"Iiz!"

TheErabenimsun tribesmen gasped and some even started to demand cancelling the match over Rotheimaak's treachery, however, Han-Ammu, who had his own reasons to resent his fellow Gulakhan, decided to ignore this for now. Besides, instead of attacking, the dragon merely watched with a cruel grin as the warrior was doing his best to free himself from a layer of ice. Once he managed to do that, Ashu-Ahhe just sent his opponent venomous glare.

"What's the matter? You were toying around with me before, it's only fair I get to do the same."

The Dunmer screamed at his enemy's arrogance, not aware that while Ted indeed was finding it hard to find a way to hurt him a few seconds ago, a short break allowed him to take his time with preparing a strategy. It was then that Rotheimaak realized that when on the ground, he simply couldn't get close enough to the agile fighter. The solution was simple - he just had to make the enemy come to him.

Ted stood up on his legs, his serpentine neck far out of Ashu-Ahhe's reach, but with his belly exposed. The Dunmer noticed an obvious weakness and charged.

He fell for it! Now's my chance!

Rotheimaak dropped his wings to the sides, making it impossible to jump aside, and tilted his body onwards, making his intentions clear. The Dunmer stopped for a fraction of a second, and, with wide eyes, turned around to do his best to escape. He almost did. If only he had recognized the dragon's plan a bit sooner...

A falling dragon slammed into Ashu-Ahhe's back like a locomotive, denting his armor and sending the warrior flying. All spectators fell silent, now absolutely certain what will be the outcome of the clash, for the Erabenimsun combatant dropped his sword during collision and didn't even attempt to rise. Rotheimaak leisurely approached his enemy. The events of the next few seconds remained in the memory of the Erabenimsuns until the end of time.

The dragon opened his jaw wide, ready to take a good grip on the mer.

"Send me a postcard from Messer!"

Ever since that day, the enemies of the Ashlanders would hear in their fights one more battle cry.

It was "I'm gonna send you sky high!".

Azirra was getting sick. That last smuggler was problematic, but except for him, all of the enemies were dropping like flies. Was it always so easy to end someone's life? Did she have... a talent for this?

It was a scary possibility. She could only hope her newfound skill was simply a result of being fed up with people trying to kill her.

By the time she recovered from shock, her ear stopped bleeding, so she decided to just cast her only healing spell instead of drinking a potion. After reclaiming her blade, searching two dead smugglers for any valuables, and taking a spear with herself (she decided it was easier to use than a sword, no fencing skills necessary), she followed the corridor, turned left, and opened another door.

She was back in the first cave.

"...This place is just stupid."

She turned around and went down the unexplored corridor.

After several minutes of walking she decided the whole place was a small maze. To be honest, she was getting antsy - the fact there were no longer any enemies in sight unnerved her and she started to worry she was deep enough to encounter Dwemer constructs.

"You will DIE!"

A smuggler! What a relief!

The Imperial woman was a terrible fighter. Her only weapon were throwing stars. Needless to say, in the end, the spells proved to be more dangerous and Azirra was victorious once more.

"This is getting ridiculous" she said to herself while walking towards a door at the end of a very long corridor. "I've never fought seriously in my life and yet I'm taking down this crime den all on my own. True, they are all scattered and fight me one at a time, but come on, either Nocturnal is on my side today or anyone can be a smuggler nowadays."

The door opened and two men entered. Azirra grimaced. Obviously, that happens when I get too cocky. One was a Redguard and the other a Breton. Both were holding daggers and seemed quite surprised. At this point, the poor Khajiit was so fed up with everything she doubted she could even muster any objection against killing them.

"What? An intruder? Here?!" shouted the second.

"Strange. We were guarding this side, there were two men in the main cave and at least two people guarded the other side..." said Redguard. "How did you get this far?"

"Others are already dead, even that massive Nord," informed Azirra.

"You're lying, nobody would get past him..." answered the Breton. "But... if you didn't... then how do you know of him?"

Two men exchanged worried glances and rushed at her. Azirra cast Sleep at the Redguard, slowing him down slightly, which caused Breton to close the distance faster than him. Azirra, instead of making a predictive move of thrusting her spear at him, dropped her weapon, grabbed his wrist and used Fire Bite.

"AIIIIIIIEEEEEE!"

Azirra punched the man in the stomach and slashed with her claws across his chest, only to be hit by the other one on the head. Fortunately, her steel helmet saved her from instantaneous death. Azirra pointed with her hand at the Redguard and cast the strongest of her Destruction spells, Greater Shockball.

Sadly, she forgot it had an area effect.

All three screamed when an electric charge coursed through them and they collapsed. To Azirra's annoyance, the spell puffed up her fur, revealing its greatest drawback for Khajiit mages.

The Redguard, being in the best condition of all three combatants, shook off the effects first and grabbed both of her hands, making it impossible for her to cast spells. The next course of action seemed obvious to her - she bonked the enemy with her head. She had a helmet, he didn't, the result was obvious. Azirra sent an angry glare at the Breton and let me tell you, there's a good reason why this specific look is called the Eye of Fear.

If the smuggler ever doubted her ability to best all other sentries so far, he had none anymore.

"No, wait! I give up, I give up!" He tossed his dagger aside and lifted his hands above his head. "Don't kill me, please! I have a wife and children to feed!"

Azirra looked at him skeptically. The man happened to be one of the unfortunate few (or lucky, if you look from the Dunmer view point), whose face would scare away even cliff racers.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, but one day I might want to have them!"

She truly had enough of the ever-present stupidity.

"Get lost."

The Breton smiled in relief.

"Thank you, thank you!" He turned around, ran through the door, and turned right, disappearing from her sight. Azirra sighed, packed the weapons of her enemies, picked up her spear, and walked into the next corridor.

To her right were stairs and ahead one more room. She nodded. Hopefully it would be the correct one. Her backpack was almost full at this point.

"Han-Ammu, step closer. I have many important things to tell you."

The last Gulakhan of Erabenimsun approached the legendary Thunder-Lizard, who with ease dispatched of the strongest warrior of the tribe. Now, when they all gathered around the big campfire to feast in this evening hour, the magical beast promised to give them a great lesson. Next to him stood the Wise Woman, who shockingly was smiling - something young Ashlander never saw in her case. As strange as it looked, he moved his gaze to the guardian spirit of Erabenimsun.

"For many years, this tribe was suffering. It lacked a leader worthy of his title. Ulath-Pal decided to build your prosperity on the suffering of others. In the end, it would only bring Oblaan, an end to your people. The world is out there, standing in front of the yurt of Erabenimsun. You can either invite it on your own rules or wait until it forces its way in. But that is a worry for another day. For now, we must rejoice. Only one problem must be still solved today - a choice of the new Ashkhan. I spoke with the Wise Woman and we both agree that it is your destiny."

Han-Ammu lowered his head.

"That is a great honor you give me, Thunder Lizard, but I'm afraid I'm not skilled enough to be an Ashkhan."

The wise beast smiled.

"Right now you aren't. That's why I'm going to teach you how to be a good Ashkhan. Manirai, bring the first artifact."

The Wise Woman pulled an amulet out of a small bundle she held.

"Han-Ammu, son of Airan-Ammu, do you recognize this object?" asked Rotheimaak.

"I do. It is the Sanit-Kil's Heart of Fire that belonged to Ahaz."

"It is a symbol, and symbols have power. This amulet represents the fire burning in the hearts of all Erabenimsun. Courage isn't about not being scared, it's about facing your opponent even if you are scared. Remember this and you will never fail to fill your men with the hope of victory. Take the amulet as the only Gulakhan of the tribe."

Ashlander did as he was asked, while Manirai picked up another item.

"Han-Ammu, son of Airan-Ammu, do you recognize this object?" asked again the magical being.

"Yes. It's the Robe of Erur-Dan the Wise that belonged to Ranabi."

"That, too, is a symbol. This robe represents the wisdom of a leader and your ancestors. True wisdom comes not with age or magic, but with the ability to tell right from wrong. You know this distinction and so you are wise. Everything else you need to know you will learn like every other Ashkhan did - from your elders, from your Wise Women, from your ancestors, but most importantly from your heart. Take the robe as the only Gulakhan of the tribe."

He once again accepted a gift and Manirai pulled out the last item. All present tribals held their breath.

"Han-Ammu, son of Airan-Ammu, do you recognize this object?" asked Thunder-Lizard for the third time.

"...How could I not? It is a war axe of my father, which Ulath-Pal took after his death as a sign of leadership."

"Then you already know what this symbol means. The War Axe of Airan-Ammu, the War Axe of Erabenimsun, it shows the strength of the tribe. For a long time, it was misused. Now you have a chance, no, a duty, to fix the wrongs and protect the weak. A single mer can't do much, but Erabenimsun is not just a single mer. As long as he remains faithful to his brothers and sisters, a leader wields not just his own power, but also that of all his kin, both alive and from the afterlife. Han-Ammu, son of Airan-Ammu, take the axe of your father and become the Ashkhan this tribe needs."

Slowly, as if he couldn't believe it was happening, young Ashlander took the axe. Tribals called out in the language of their ancestors, Dunmeri, that outside of special occasions wasn't anymore used even by the Wise Women. That, however, was such occasion.

"Han-Ammu, you are our Ashkhan from now on," said Manirai, giving him a small bow. "Osuhn hari khan!"

Everyone repeated those words after her and, since it concluded the official part of the feast, everyone shifted their attention to the campfire, upon which they were preparing meat.

"Thunder-Lizard, we have a tradition in our tribe. If we invite a guest to our feast, they have the honor of singing the first song, which is one of their choice."

Ted blinked.

"A song? I... I don't really know any fitting songs..."

"Please, Thunder-Lizard," added Han-Ammu. "I am sure someone as wise as you knows at least one."

"...Very well. There's one song... the Song of our Saviour, the one that comes and is close. The one I intended to introduce to your tribe when their time comes... The one you call the Nerevarine."

Just like that, he again had full attention of the tribe once more. He cleared his throat.

"Now, it's been a long while since I last sang, so don't judge me if it isn't so great, not to mention the song was only meant to be accompanied with music. Either way, here it is."

The dragon took a deep breath. It's a damn shame there's no orchestra playing the game's theme in the background right now.

He started.

Morrowind calls to me,

Begs me to abandon fears,

Come by fate and

Wipe away our tears.

His people wait for that day...

And I am still afraid.

I count days in my grief,

Then you will arrive here.

With great care, you hold my hand,

Giving me the strength to survive.

And you look somewhere far, whispering

'My people are scared'.

House's cry, Curse's sign,

Tribunal's hidden lie.

Morrowind calls to me

And I'm no longer afraid,

For I know, when it's me and you,

I can make

Our dreams come true.

Our dreams...

Will come true.

There was a short silence once he was done.

"You were right, Thunder-Lizard," said Manirai finally. "It does sound as if it should be only sang with proper music. Either that or singing just isn't your talent."

Why was everyone always saying that?!

There was no cube. More coins, some books, other Dwemer junk, but not a single damned cube! Azirra felt like murdering someone, preferably Hasphat Antabolis.

Furthermore, her chances of finding it decreased with every chamber she searched for, leaving less possible places for hiding. After leaving the room and climbing the stairs, she found herself again in the main cave. Now there was only one passage left to check - the door in the middle.

Azirra approached it slowly and pulled out a probe. She wasn't going to risk a second electrocution. In the few seconds, she confirmed there was no trap in the door and entered. To her disappointment, it was another corridor. She walked over to the opposite end and checked another gate with the probe. This one was clear, too.

She silently opened the door and sneaked inside. It was a small room with four columns and three desks in the middle. Two more corridors led away from there, one to the right and one ahead. She stopped.

There were three people standing in the first corridor, fortunately with their backs turned to her. Three men, a Nord, an Imperial and a Breton. The first had an axe, the second a bow, and the third was probably a spell caster since she noticed no weapon on him.

"Snowy Granius is still sitting in the storage?" asked the Breton.

"Yes. He was there for the last three days," answered the Imperial.

"Kinda makes me wonder where he takes care of his private business," added the Nord. The two others looked at him. "What? I can't be the only one thinking about it. Unlike us, he doesn't have a convenient lava lake to shit into."

A drop of sweat ran down her forehead. One average enemy she could face... If she had a good plan to quickly dispatch of one or they were incompetent she could even risk fighting two. But three? No, that was too much. Time to retreat, maybe hire someone to accompany her... Yes, that would work, a promise of loot and a good payment up front. Alright, now she only had to...

*clang*

...Why?!

"Intruder!"

"Don't let her escape!"

"I'll drink mead from your skull!"

Azirra yelped and jumped behind a desk to avoid an arrow. She peeked to check the situation and almost immediately had to hide again, this time from a fireball, but in that short moment, she noticed that the Nord was charging at her from her right side, cutting off her escape route to the surface. She couldn't fight either, not with such numbers, and the two other smugglers remained in that corridor, so...

She ran towards the other corridor, as far away from the Nord as possible. Another fireball exploded behind her, making her gasp - the tip of her tail was now on fire. But that wasn't the worst part.

It was a dead end... Kind of. Instead of a wall there was a small. Lake. Of. Lava. There was nowhere to run... except maybe a causeway hanging over the deadly fluid. It would be a long jump, but she had no choice. She dropped her spear. All or nothing.

She jumped.

She soared.

She grabbed an edge.

A smile. She would get away.

Pain. Agonic pain that almost made her let go of her only chance of survival.

With great difficulty, she pulled herself up onto the ledge. A fireball zipped over her head. She had to escape.

She tried to stand up, but the pain in her leg intensified. She fell.

"Irbran, I can't jump that far!"

"You don't have to, Liore got a hit! Now it's just a matter of time. Come on, people! We must check up on others, she couldn't get this far without taking some of them down."

Steps, slowly dying down.

Silence.

...

Azirra, with unspoken suffering, found enough strength to crawl deeper into the abandoned corridor, out of sight. Once there, she reached with her hand first to her tail to put out fire and then to her left knee.

Thank gods, it was fine. The arrow hit slightly above. She pulled it out.

The tip was covered in a green fluid. Her breathing quickened. She threw the arrow away and removed her backpack. With a shaking hand, she reached inside, but had a problem finding the correct object. She started searching more desperately. She knocked over the backpack, spilling the treasures all over the place, but her eyes were only on several glass vials. She uncorked one and drank the content, not minding the bitter taste. She grabbed a second and a third. Fourth one followed, but she was barely conscious. She dropped the fifth one before she could lift it to her lips, her arms going numb.

I really need to buy some potions, was her last thought.

Her world went dark.

A/N:

Should I change rating to M yet? In my opinion violence is nothing special for teenagers these days and battles described here don't really make me flinch. Some blood in a story is not going to trigger me.

In the game, there were twelve smugglers. One outside, three in the first cell, two in small rooms, three in the corridors and three in the area with lava. Ted obliterated the boss and a battlemage left without a fight, so that left Azirra with ten opponents. To make up for it these last three enemies received an upgrade. It's a damn shame her luck failed her at the very end, now she's going to die in the depths of Arkngthand. Either way it was all for nothing - puzzle box was no longer in the ruins.

Ted, you had one job! Just one! And you still blew it by roleplaying as a dragon sage in the wrong part of Vvardenfell!

Osuhn hari khan - according to the unnoficial, fanmade Dunmeri language, it means "We have an Ashkhan". Notice that Ashlanders usually don't refer to themselves with their most popular name, that's what settled Dunmers call them. Tribes most of the time refer to themselves as Velothi, people of prophet Veloth, who brough them to Resdayn, or Morrowind, as we prefer to call it (other names for the province, depending on the era, are Dwemereth, Veloth and Dunmereth).

As for the song... I was searching for some really nice lyrics to Morrowind's theme, but sadly english side of the fandom failed terribly, shame on you. Surprisingly, it was polish community that had supplied a pretty good text. The song in this chapter is a rough translation of Greedo's version. You can find the covers of the original on Youtube, if you are interested. They're quite well singed and by several different people too. I prefer the version of Panna Nat.

Speaking of failing... Looks like I'm about to fail in bringing a chapter next weekend. Sorry, but in this semester I started learning Japanese on uni, I have even less free time than I used to. There's a chance I'll finish on time, but don't hold your breath. To cheer you up, know that in the next chapter will be a long awaited meeting. Until next time.