No One Escapes Cidhna Mine
Emily set down her empty tankard on the stone table. Everything in the Inn from the table to the chairs to the very beds on which the patrons slept were made of the same cold grey stone.
"So, worth it?" she asked her vampiric companion.
"He was definitely a local," Serana replied, "If anything he might be able to point us to the right person." Emily nodded. She took the book from her bag and set it down on the table next to where Finn was dozing, curled up in a ball. She leafed through the pages until she found the passage she was looking for.
"Well, it says here it's halfway up the central stone crag that separates the riverside from the dryside," said Emily, "Below the Temple of Dibella."
"Think you'll be alright if you go in alone?" Serana asked.
"Hmm..?" said Emily as she looked up from the book, "Why?" She'd known of Serana's aversion to temples for some time now but had never thought to ask her about it before.
"Temples and me," said Serana, choosing her words carefully, "They don't really mix. Actually I'm terrified of them." She didn't meet Emily's gaze as she spoke these last few words. Emily reached over, resting her hand affectionately on the vampiress' arm.
"Is this to do with the ritual?" she asked quietly. Serana nodded.
"Don't worry," Emily continued, "I'm sure I can handle whatever this man has in mind." She stopped as she saw a smile tugging at the corners of Serana's mouth. "Not like that," she said, swatting playfully at her arm, "You know full well what I mean."
"I never said anything," smiled Serana. She set down her tankard and they got up from the table. Finn chittered agitatedly as he crawled up Emily's arm to her shoulder. "What's the matter, Finn?" Emily asked as she smoothed the otter's bristling fur. Emily heard a wooden chair scrape against the stone floor and a man dressed in leathers with a greasy looking mohawk hurriedly left the room, glancing over his shoulder at Emily as he reached the door. The moment their eyes met Emily got a distinct impression that the man did not like her at all. Then he slunk out the door and into the night. Emily and Serana followed a moment later.
They followed the roads hewn straight from the rock up towards the central crag. The steps were steep and worn smooth by many generations of feet. The temple of Talos was tucked out of sight and the bronze doors were almost hidden in the gloom of the alcove. Not even the light of the twin moons could reach its lonely lair. Serana left Emily at the door and she pushed the door open. It creaked ominously and she froze for a second, checking the shadows before stepping inside.
The door closed heavily behind her and for a second she was in complete darkness. As her eyes quickly became accustomed to the darkness she caught sight of the faint guttering light of a candle at the far end of the stone corridor that led deep under the city. Her footsteps echoed on the stone floor and as she drew nearer to the candle she saw the man from the marketplace standing at the foot of the statue that dominated much of the room at the end.
"Your friend not with you?" was his first question as she drew near.
"She's waiting outside," Emily replied.
"Ahhh, keeping a look out," said the man, "Good idea."
"So, what exactly did you want to meet me down here for?" Emily asked.
"That woman in the marketplace," said the man, "She would have been dead had you not intervened. Another corpse on the ever growing pile."
"Do you mean to tell me that this is a regular occurrence?" Emily asked. The man nodded.
"This has been going on for years," he explained, "You saw how the guards deal with it. Usher everyone away and just clean up the mess."
"What exactly do you want me to do?" Emily asked.
"I need you to find out who's behind these murders," replied the man, "I've been searching for years, since my father was murdered. He owned one of the mines around here. People say it was just a madman but I know better. I know the Forsworn are mixed up in all this." The man's face was grim as he continued. "I know a lot of the miners down in the Warrens are sympathetic to their cause, just as Weylin, that madman, was. You might want to start there. Or question their would-be victim. I can pay you handsomely for any information you uncover."
"If it's all the same to you, might I suggest a different offer?" Emily asked. The man looked at her, bemused.
"My friend and I are building a house," Emily explained, "But we've hit a snag. We need stone and lots of it."
"Well, maybe I can help you out there," the man replied, "Alright, you help me out and I'll get you as much stone as you need."
"You've got yourself a deal," said Emily. She paused.
"Eltrys," said the man. Emily nodded.
"Emily," she replied.
"So, what did he want?" Serana asked as Emily shut the temple doors behind her.
"You and I are going to be doing some detective work," Emily replied, "We have to get to the bottom of the murders that have been going on here for years and in return he'll hook us up with some stone." As they descended the stone steps Emily filled Serana in on the details of the discussion she had with Eltrys.
"So he's been investigating these murders for years," said Serana thoughtfully. Emily nodded.
"Yeah, pretty much," she replied.
"So, what chance do a couple of outsiders like us have?" Serana asked. Emily stopped and turned to face her companion.
"Because, my dear Sera, he doesn't have your brilliant charm and powers of deduction," she said, cupping Serana's chin in her hands, "Or my ability to somehow stumble right into the middle of things."
"Well, at least you're honest," Serana smiled, "So, where's our first lead?"
"At the Inn I'd imagine," Emily replied, "We need to have a word with that woman from the marketplace." They followed the stone road down to the shallow stream that ran between the marketplace and the Inn. The Inn was less crowded than when they had left it and Emily scanned the room until she spotted the woman sitting by the fire. She recognised the Redguard woman from the jewellery stall sitting with her. A bard stood close by, strumming a sombre tune on his lute which matched the atmosphere of the tavern quite closely. Everywhere people stood in tight knotted groups, discussing matters in conspiratorial whispers. Emily didn't need her heightened vampiric senses to know they were discussing the events in the marketplace from earlier.
They crossed the room to the firepit. The woman looked up when she heard their approach.
"I was wondering if I might have a few words with you, ma'am," Emily said quietly. Taking her cue, the Redguard woman stood up and with a few parting words, left the fireside for the bar, allowing Emily and Serana to take a seat opposite the woman. As the firelight lit up their faces, the woman's eyes showed a flicker of recognition.
"You were in the marketplace," she said, "You stopped that madman." Emily nodded.
"It's that we'd like to talk to you about," Emily asked, "We're investigating this matter and we'd appreciate any information you can give us." The woman shifted a little in the chair. "Do you have any idea why that man might have attacked you?" Emily asked.
"No, none at all," the woman replied, "I was just visiting here from Cyrodiil. I stopped by the market in the hopes of buying my sister some jewellery to bring home with me."
"Markarth's a long way to come just for some jewellery," said Serana, "You have business in the city?"
"I do, or rather, I did," the woman replied, "I think that after all this, I'll just head home. Nothing is worth this kind of trouble." She shifted uneasily again.
"There's something you're not telling us," said Emily, "Look, unless we have the whole picture, we can't put a stop to these murders. The man said something about the Forsworn."
"I've heard of them," the woman conceded, "Savages in the hills who attack caravans. I really don't know what connection they'd have to my business here. I was just sent to investigate Thonar Silver-Blood, that's all. I don't know anything about the Forsworn besides what everyone knows." Emily nodded.
"Alright, well, thank you for your cooperation," she said, "We will find out who's behind all this, I promise." They stood up and left the fireside.
"Where next?" Serana asked as soon as they were out of earshot.
"I have no idea who this Thonar Silver-Blood is," said Emily, "But I'm sure this Inn's name is no coincidence. There's another lead I'd like to chase up first however. We know there's some kind of connection to the Forsworn and Eltrys mentioned that a lot of those working in the mines are sympathetic to them. I think maybe it's time we split up and look for clues." Serana raised an eyebrow. "If I go back up to Eltrys and tell him what we found out concerning the woman and Thonar Silver-Blood, can you go down to the Warrens and see what you can find about that man from the market, Weylin?"
"I'll use all my brilliant charm," she smiled, echoing Emily's words from earlier. Emily glanced at her watch.
"With any luck we'll have this wrapped up before dawn," she said as she reached the door.
"You're optimistic," Serana responded dryly.
On the far side of the door they were met by one of the Markarth city guard. He wore dark green livery decorated with a pair of ram's horns and a closed-faced helm like most of the guards. It occurred to Emily that he had been waiting around for them and was not merely passing through as part of his patrol. He carried a stout handled battle-axe purposefully, the butt of which was planted firmly on the ground, giving him an altogether threatening appearance.
"You," he said gruffly, "I've seen you snooping around, asking questions." He took a step closer until he was standing almost nose to nose with Emily. "Back..off..," he said with great deliberation, "You don't want to know what happens to troublemakers around here."
"We're not trying to cause trouble," said Emily in an attempt to placate the man.
"You're finding it," he replied, raising the battle-axe level with her face, "That's bad enough. This is your last warning, outsider. We keep the peace here. Now stay out of our business." With that he lowered the battle-axe and strode away without glancing back.
"You sure you'll be alright?" Serana asked once the guard was out of earshot.
"I'll be fine," Emily replied, "I'll meet you at the Warrens once I've turned over the information to Eltrys, okay?"
"Alright," Serana said at length.
As they went their separate ways Emily made her way back up the stone steps on the central crag while Serana followed the sloping road down from the side of the Inn to the river that surged through the riverside district of Markarth. The smell of melting silver coming from the smelters permeated every corner of the district and the smell, like all things pertaining to silver, made Serana distinctly uneasy and perhaps a little nauseous. With any luck, she figured, the information she needed would be ready to hand and she could get out of this festering hole.
The sloping road took her down to an entrance concealed in the shadows much like the entrance to the temple of Talos. The whole area was grubby, a layer of grime clinging to every surface and mingling with the already unpleasant air. She pushed open one of the heavy metal doors and stepped inside.
The air inside the warrens was stagnant and the space before her, though large enough, gave an air of claustrophobia and closeness. Perhaps it was the weight of stone pressing down on her from above. Several fires had been lit to keep its poverty-stricken residents in some semblance of warmth. The residents were dressed mostly in rags or the dirt stained clothes worn by the miners and smelters. One man stood apart from the others. He too was dressed in rags and he was leaning against the wall, watching Serana as she entered the chamber.
"The Warrens isn't the place for your type," he said in a low voice, "What do you want?"
"I'm looking for information," she replied matter-of-factly, "About Weylin. Did you know him?"
"Know him?" said the man, "I know everyone in this godsforsaken pit of Oblivion. I'm sort of the one who hands out the keys around here. Keeps things running smoothly, make sure the skooma addled ones don't bludgeon one another to death over the last bottle, that sort of thing."
"I need the keys to Weylin's room," Serana replied, taking a step closer to the man.
"Why would I do that?" the man asked, "You don't exactly belong here, now do you?"
"I wasn't asking," Serana replied. The man was starting to irritate her and clearly her irritation was showing.
"Fine, fine, no need to get upset," he said, reaching into the pocket of his ragged tunic. He pulled out a single iron key and tossed it to her. She caught it and without another word, stalked off down the length of the chamber. She tried the key at each door she came to and it was not until she reached the end of the long corridor that she finally found the lock into which the key would fit. The door ground open and she stepped into the small room the man had once occupied. It was grotty like much of the Warrens and a few patched and stained breeches hung over the chair in the corner. Serana wrinkled her nose up at the rank smell of ale gone bad and began her search of the room. In one corner stood a crudely built cot covered in animal skins. This too was home to some discarded clothes and a few empty ale bottles. A wooden plate with the remains of the man's last meal lay by the fire and a chest stood in the corner farthest from the firelight. It was this chest that caught her attention. It was not locked and inside she found some old wooden plates, a few more bottles of ale and an old tattered note lying at the bottom. She unfolded the cracked parchment carefully.
Weylin,
You have been chosen to strike fear in the heart of the Nords. Go to the market tomorrow. You will know what to do.
-N
Serana pocketed the piece of parchment and left the room quickly. She tossed the key back to the man by the door as she reached the Warren's exit.
As she stepped out into the night air she realised she was not alone. A figure stood, silhouetted against the light coming from the smelters. His arms were folded and he was staring straight at her. She recognised him as the man they had seen briefly in the Silver-Blood Inn.
"You've been digging around where you don't belong," he said, "It's time you learnt a lesson." Serana could sense his veins bulging in his bull neck as clearly as she could see his hands clenching into fists. Clearly this was a man who let his fists do more talking than his mouth.
"You first," she said calmly. Without waiting for further words the man lunged at her. From the very outset she could see that this man was no stranger to fistfights. He swung straight for her jaw and she dodged the blow, aiming one of her own at his gut. This had less effect than she hoped for and the man merely grunted before springing at her again. This time the punch landed and Serana took a step back, raising her arms in defence. The man wasted no time in keeping up the assault but this time Serana was ready. She ducked, rushing forward and swinging upwards, catching him on the jaw. He staggered back and she rushed after him, aiming another punch at his face. This one he blocked and Serana dodged to one side as he aimed another blow at her.
She felt the wood creak under her boots and she glanced back over her shoulder at the grey water surging past her. She ducked again just in time as the man lunged once more. She sidestepped the blow and whirled around to face him. The man looked over the shoulder, suddenly realising the precarious position he found himself in. He looked back in time to see a punch aimed right for his face.
There was a loud splash as his body hit the water and he disappeared below the leaden surface for a moment before resurfacing, spitting out the metal tainted water and scrambling for the wooden docks.
"You mangy bit of pit-bait," he choked. Serana reached down and grabbed him by the scruff of his jerkin, forcing their eyes to meet.
"Who sent you?" she demanded.
"I was sent by Nepos the Nose," the man spat, "He gives out the orders. But you're a fool if you think you can go after him." Serana said nothing in reply but let go the man's jerkin and he fell back into the water where he swore, spitting out more of the foul water.
"Good punch," said a voice behind her and Serana turned to see Emily.
"How long were you watching?" Serana asked slyly of her companion.
"Long enough to see the grand finishing move," Emily replied, "Did you find anything?"
"We're looking for a man named Nepos the Nose," said Serana, ignoring the splashing still coming from the docks behind her as the man scrambled out of the churning waters and slunk off into the darkness like a wounded dog.
"Right," said Emily, "And Thonar. I spoke with Eltrys. Apparently Thonar is involved in every bit of the city's business. We'll need to go to the treasury house if we're to find him."
"We'd better go there first then," Serana replied, "Maybe he can point us in the direction of Nepos the Nose."
"I hope so," said Emily, "That doesn't sound like the kind of name you can just casually drop into a conversation."
The treasury house was located in the higher reaches of the city, not far from Understone Keep. It was Dwarven-made like all the buildings in Markarth and carried with it an air of opulence not present in most of the other buildings. Serana and Emily pushed the heavy doors open and stepped inside. The place was set up very much like a bank which, Emily reminded herself, it essentially was. A counter with wrought iron bars divided the area behind the counter from the rest of the building. An old woman stood in the corner, broom in hand as she swept the floor, humming to herself. An elderly man came in behind them, carrying a load of firewood which he dumped by the fireplace. A woman in a low cut dress stood behind the counter, totting up figures on an abacus. She looked up from her counting and gave them the kind of false smile a bank teller might give an obstreperous customer in order to placate them.
"Sorry, the treasury house is really just for patrons of the Silver-Blood family," she said, "You don't belong here." Emily and Serana were beginning to sense a pattern in the Reach's attitude to outsiders and it was wearing a bit thin on them both. Ignoring the woman's words they pressed on.
"We need to see Thonar," Emily replied. She noticed out of the corner of her eye Serana's hands making the same deft movements she had seen them make before. The woman's eyes became lidded, half closed as she spoke.
"Of course you can see Thonar," she said, "He's just through there." She indicated the door over her shoulder. Serana's hands made another subtle movement. "And of course outsiders are welcome here," the woman added. Serana smiled a smile of satisfaction at these words.
They left the woman to shake her head a few times before returning to her figures and the abacus still lying on the desk.
Thonar Silver-Blood, a man in his late fifties dressed in finery, sat at the stone table, pouring over a thick volume which lay open before him. He looked up sharply when he heard the door close.
"Who are you?" he demanded, "I told them, no visitors."
"We're here to talk about the woman from the marketplace," said Emily, "The one who was nearly murdered."
"The Imperial spy?" spat Thonar. He looked at the mild surprise on their faces. "Hah, that's right. I knew. How many dogs is the Empire going to send after me? This is my city, my business. You Empire lovers would do well to stay out of it. Now, ge-"
He never finished his sentence for a great commotion sprang up outside the doors. Mixed cries and shouts met their ears. She recognised among them the cracked voice of the elderly woman. These shouts were accompanied by the grate of steel on steel. Emily saw Thonar's eyes widen as he drew a blade from his hip. The three of them rushed towards the doors and they flew open with a bang. On the far side a horrible bloody sight met their eyes. A woman in green finery lay slumped across the table, blood spattering every inch of the stone surface. Her face was hidden by clumps of blood matted hair.
"No, Betrid," came Thonar's hoarse response. They hadn't time to take in the horrific sight for the cries erupted anew at the far end of the treasury house. The two elderly Bretons had closed in on the caged off counter and were trying to gain entry while the woman inside screamed in fright. Drawing her blade Emily ran for the counter while Serana readied a frost spell. The elderly Bretons shifted their attention from the woman when they heard the running footsteps and turned to meet their attackers. The frost spell missed by mere inches and struck the far wall. It was answered in kind by a shock spell which bounced off the counter, striking several of the pots that were lined up neatly on the shelf. They exploded into shards of pottery which littered the floor. Emily dodged to one side as the man lunged at her. His blade struck the stone counter behind her and Emily brought her dagger up to meet him while Serana rounded on the old woman. Thunder cracks echoed throughout the room as lightning arced in all directions. The woman behind the counter dove for cover as a stray bolt struck the counter, setting the countertop, the only bit made from wood, alight. Emily's blade hit home and the wounded man struck out at her. A blow caught her across the face and she staggered back. Meanwhile another blast of frost struck the woman full in the chest and she crumpled to the ground, wheezing. With a second blow she fell silent and the man soon after.
Emily leant one hand against the counter. Blood was oozing from a cut on her cheek and one of Serana's hands had been burnt by a stray lightning bolt. Serana extinguished the small fire still burning on the countertop with a blast of frost as Emily turned to the man. She looked from him to the woman lying slumped across the table.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"No, you're not," he replied. He knelt by the body of the woman. "They killed my wife," he continued, his voice cracked by emotion, "Damn Madanach, damn his Forsworn backside."
"Who's Madanach?" Emily asked.
"The King of the Forsworn," Thonar replied, "I have him rotting away in Cidhna Mine. His men are my puppets, or at least I thought they were." With that he turned away from them.
"Where can we find Nepos the Nose?" Emily asked. Without meeting their gaze the man replied.
"The third terrace on the North side of the city," he replied, "You'll be going to your death if you go after him though."
"Well, tell us what we need to know about him and you can save us the trip," Serana suggested.
"Fine," the man grunted, "He's my messenger. Carries my orders to Madanach down in the mines. I'll bet he had a hand in this. I'll see him hang. By Arkay, I'll see him hang." Emily turned to Serana.
"Eltrys needs to hear this," she said. Serana nodded.
They left the treasury house and hurried down the stone steps towards the plaza. From there they hurried towards the central crag, scrambling up the stone steps. The whole city had gone quiet and when they reached the door, Serana suddenly spoke up.
"I'm coming with you," she said.
"Huh?" said Emily.
"I don't know, I've just got a bad feeling," Serana replied, "So temple of no temple, I'm coming with you." They pushed the door open and stepped inside. The moment the air inside the temple hit them they knew something was wrong. The air reeked of blood and as they advanced along the corridor they saw a figured lying sprawled on the floor at the feet of the statue of Talos.
"Eltrys," Emily cried, hurrying towards the figure.
"Emily, wait," Serana called before sprinting after her.
As they neared the corpse three of the Markarth city guard stepped out from behind the stone columns.
"We warned you," said one, advancing towards them, "But you just had to go and cause trouble. A lot of work you've made for us." He glanced over at the two guards standing off to one side and made a curt signal to them. At this they stood so they flanked him on either side.
"Now we have to pin all these murders on you, silence witnesses, work, work, work."
"What did you do to Eltrys?" Emily demanded.
"Same thing we do with anyone who wants to change things around here," the guard replied as the two behind him drew their blades. Emily's eyes flicked from them to the guard who was still speaking. "We had a nice little deal going on between Thonar and Madanach until you and Eltrys started sniffing around. You wanted to find the man responsible for the murders? You'll have plenty of time to talk to him in Cidhna Mine. And no one escapes Cidhna Mine, no one." With that the soldier produced two pairs of bindings. Emily saw Serana out of the corner of her eye reaching for a blade and stopped her, flicking her eyes towards the advancing guard.
She felt her arms being yanked behind her and the bite of the leather as it was tied tightly around her wrists. She was nudged in the small of her back and both she and Serana were led from the Shrine. Navigating the steps outside was difficult and more than once she nearly fell. She felt briefly thankful for the moons still shining above. It had all happened in the space of a matter of hours.
They were led down to the dockside and from here up the steep slope that led into the gaping maw of Cidhna Mine. Down into the darkened tunnels they were led, lit only by a few guttering candles hanging from metal lanterns affixed to the walls. They were met at a metal gate by an Orcish woman in full steel armour.
"Urzoga," said the guard, "Get these skeevers into the mine, they're both on life. First meal isn't for another week." With that he left, flanked by the other two guards. The Orc scowled at them.
"Alright, prisoners, eyes front. You're in Cidhna Mine now and we expect you to earn your keep." She picked up two sets of ragged clothes from the shelf close beside her and tossed them to Emily and Serana. "Now, hand over your weapons," she said.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little deaf in this ear," said Serana coolly.
"Don't get smart with me," snapped the Orc and she raised a hand, striking Serana on the back of the head. Emily bristled.
"Leave her alone," she said sharply.
"You seem to think you have a say in what goes on around here," replied the Orc darkly, "Well, you don't. I'm in charge around here and if your friend doesn't want to die before the end of her first day, I suggest she keeps her tongue in her head. Else I'll cut it out."
Wordlessly, as she didn't trust herself to reply, Emily handed over her dagger to the Orc and Serana did the same.
After they'd changed into the ragged clothes and relinquished their worldly possessions they were pushed through the metal gate. It closed behind them and the turning of the key in the lock seemed to echo about them as a stark reminder of their imprisonment.