Another Chapter! Two in one day, yippeee!!!! Ok, calm now. Well, read and review and tell me what ya think.

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The pair had been traveling for a day and a half through the wasteland of Molag Amur. They had slept against a group of boulders at night, and had killed two Cliff Racers and a Shalk since they had departed from the fortress. However, there was still no sign of their wayward mage nor the Ashlander Tribe. Just after noon a Blight Storm hit. The two hurriedly camped under the scant cover of a rock overhang. Krillan covered his face with his cloak and stayed back against the wall while Larka, with her veil up, stood guard.
The storm raged around her, whipping her ebony colored cape and her silver tresses around viciously. The storm blotted out the sky so the sun was a faint and faded patch of light. The time was impossible to tell without the sun, so Larka resolved to stay put until the storm was over and then continue on. There were frightful rumors of what a Blight Storm could bring. Sickness and death to anyone who was caught unprepared and unawares.

She stayed perfectly still, her sword drawn and her eyes unblinking as she searched for any flicker of movement. After a time however the storm began to subside, and once Krillan drank a Cure Blight Disease potion to thwart any chance of contracting the sickness they journeyed on. When they had journeyed far beyond Mount Assarnibibi the pair decided to make camp before they continued their search.

As was expected, Krillan had his share of complaints. "You couldn't have just stayed in Ald'Runn?" he exclaimed as they started a small fire in the semi darkness. "You couldn't have just excepted the fact that you were going to get dragged into a Dwemer Ruin? No! Instead you had to skirt around it and go to Skink! Well, let me tell you, I'm never going to go on another quest with you ever again! Never again! I've jumped from a wall, fought Nords, and endured a Blight Storm! Never again!" He ranted.

Larka wasn't paying him any attention however. She had seen a flutter of movement off to her right from behind a pillar of stone. Her wakizashi and tanto were out in a flash and she motioned for Krillan to shut up. He complied instantly and drew his axe. Larka sheathed her tanto, though she kept it loose in it's scabbard, and reached into the folds of her shirt to retrieve the amulet of light she carried. Another flurry of movement to her left! She could hear footsteps now though she could see no one. As she activated her amulet and the area filled with light Larka could vaguely make out the ghostly outlines of people moving around her.

"Krill!" she hissed quickly. "They're in Chameleon! Watch yourself!" She had her tanto out again but was waiting for her adversaries to make the first move. They did. One by one they unshielded, becoming completely visible again. There were about thirteen of them, men and women, all dark elves dressed in animal skins and carrying spears, clubs, or bow and arrows. Their eyes burned with hatred and had the look of hardened warriors. They had crept up undetected and now had the pair surrounded.

"Anazimabrah." Krillan whispered. They had found the Ashlander tribe. But this was not at all what Larka had anticipated. If they were armed with just the spears and clubs they might have had a chance but the archers would shoot them full of arrows before they could get anywhere. "Stay still." Larka whispered to Krillan. Larka slowly lowered her weapons to the ground and saw Krillan do the same. She held her hands palm up for them in a gesture of peace and to show that she was no longer armed. All the while her mind was buzzing, it didn't seem to be working properly for it wasn't providing the usual string of ideas and thoughts. She had no idea how to get them out of this alive.

The warriors, scouts no doubt, conversed rapidly in a harsh and blunt language that neither Larka or Krillan understood. Two men with clubs approached and Larka had a strong sense of foreboding. One approached Krillan who stayed obediently still. With a swift motion the man brought the blunt side of the club down on Krillan's head and he fell to the ground unconscious before he could even draw a breath. That sudden action brought Larka's mind back to reality with a jolt.

The other man was approaching her now but before he could raise his club Larka struck. Her attack was so fast that the air hissed. In seconds the man was on his back unconscious, his club was lying some feet away from him and the arm that held it was bent at an odd angle from where Larka had struck at him, breaking it. A fury burned in her eyes to match the Ashlanders and in another few seconds she was upon the man who had knocked Krillan out. She leapt into the air and spun around in a kick that sent him sprawling backwards in the dirt. The only conscious thought in her mind was to get Krillan to safety, even if it meant killing each and every one whom got in her way. With her weapons lying on the ground unreachable Larka settled for her fists and feet, her mind didn't even allow herself time to conjure up any spells or incantations; it was set upon one single violent goal. Before the archers could even line up a shot at her she ran at a woman who was holding a spear. Larka dogged the thrust at her belly and with another strike to make the air hiss her arm flew out and half the spear fell to the ground, broken where she'd struck.

By that time the surrounding people had sprung into action. The archers drew belt knives, their arrows useless, for their target was moving to fast to sight. Larka seized a spear from one man and was soon using it to block and thrust at the advancing Ashlanders. She fought with a ferocity that she barely knew she possessed. Before all her fights had been games, sport. Now her best friend's life might hang in the balance.

However, her strength began to ebb and soon her attacks began to falter. The remaining people with clubs rushed at her and soon had her on her knees. A blow to the side, a blow to the back, and then the pain became magnified as Larka was struck on the head. Blackness rushed in to claim her sight and she fought to remain conscious as the blows kept raining. She could see Krillan sprawled out a little apart from her and she fought to reach him. Then the attackers parted and through her clouded vision Larka saw a woman, obviously the leader, walk towards her. Her eyes were the darkest red and a scar ran across her left cheek. She wore finer armor than the rest and carried a spear.

Larka fought to stand; she would not be on her knees before this woman! But though she tried her aching body protested and soon she was sprawled on the ground beside Krillan. Her shaking arms lifted her upper body up slightly but that was all her strength would allow. Darkness was enveloping her now; she could hear her attacker's laughter and saw the leader walk up to her where she lay. She lifted her head up and looked defiantly at the woman through the deepening darkness and the blood that was gently running down her face. The woman said something in that same harsh language and then said with a bitter yet triumphant voice in Larka's language, "You were a hard one to defeat, yet we stand triumphant. Sweet dreams Dunmer, when you wake up you'll wish you were back unconscious." And with that the leader dealt a vicious blow to Larka's temple with the butt of her spear and Larka saw no more.