This place wasn't safe, that much was certain. Maeve couldn't be let out of Denis' sight, until this thing was dealt with.
It was... not exactly easy for him to decide what would be the best course of action. She could handle herself but this would require more than that...
He just needed her, by his side, so that he could protect her, when possible.
In the darkest depths of the Dunwich Building, the inner circle gathered around the obelisk, observing the portal that now shone brightly in front of it.
They were a rather odd mish mash of beings, ranging from humans, to Super Mutants, to Elves. A lot of DC's residents would find this operation quite admirable, from a diversity standpoint.
Shame its main aim was the death and destruction of an entire nation.
They were fortunate enough to be operating, after the Mythic Dawn's previous incursion as there were plenty of robes to go around. This did make operating in them difficult, however, few could deny that they served them well, given that they had a huge stockpile of them for all shapes and sizes.
Well, minus Super Mutants... However, they weren't exactly big on clothing.
"Sister Elaine?" The Elf at the center asked, revealing himself to be a Dunmer as he turned to face a Super Mutant behind him. She seemed rather docile, looking around and occasionally scratching her head as she examined the cavernous walls.
"What!?" She snapped, conveying the usual manners of a mutant, even at the height of civility.
"I've been told that your last attacks on Kvatch have been... Less than successful. The first raid went well enough but the now that they have your… 'rifles' they're doing a better job of repelling your forces. I believe that it's time for us to re-coordinate the attacks and maybe pick a better general."
"No! I can do it! I try something new, something..." Elaine found herself breaking away into a small fit of laughter, a bunch of confused 'ha has.'
"Gatling Laser! Idiot humans stand no chance! Overlord pulling the trigger!"
"That hulking horror?" The Dunmer observed, this was indeed an amusing ploy. Even his people were afraid of that beast and it was supposedly on their side.
"Hmm... We'll see if it fairs any better. If not? We will need results before they send off to the nearest city for re-enforcements. Dagon forbid they reach out to the Empire for backup."
"Bah! Rusty tin soldiers no scare Elaine! Their armour breaks easily and their muscles are puny, under it!"
The Dunmer found this somewhat endearing, the fact that this large beast of a 'woman' was so eager to dismiss the Imperial Legion as 'puny men' in 'tin armour.' Though, given her size, stature and existence spent fighting to survive? It maybe more than bravado...
"I do hope that you're right..."
"Of course I'm right! I may have the body of a weak and feeble woman but they're still small and stupid!" Elaine finished by slamming her fist into her hand, crushing it, with a crack.
"Then Kavert will burn!"
"It's 'Kvatch...'"
"Whatever! It's soon to be ash!"
The High Priest did value her enthusiasm but she honestly did feel like the hammer of this tool box... In every sense possible.
"Very well, I'll leave it to you for now. We may have to send through all of your mutants on the next invasion... Whatever you have left." The High Priest was far from happy about this, given that they were to conquer a lot more than Kvatch and they'd lost more than he was happy to lose, to that.
They still had superior numbers to Kvatch's guard but throwing them all at once seemed... reckless and a great way to be completely decimated.
Especially against Pilerius.
The Portal shimmered as an Imperial threw himself through it, doubling over and gasping for breath.
"M-My Lord! The Count has hopped the wall! He's fighting the Overlord, single handed!"
"Excellent! This is the time!" The Lord was quick to look back at his Super Mutant Commander, who had somewhat zoned out, when the idiot bald human started talking.
"Elaine! Get some re-enforcements! Tonight, Kvatch burns!"
Elaine nodded, breaking into a sprint. Given that Super Mutants were quite top heavy, it was always an amusing sight for those not used to it.
It wasn't so amusing for the 'puny men' who were in her way, who she picked up and tossed aside, like debris.
"OUT OF THE WAY! I HAVE A WAR TO FIGHT!"
As Elaine bound down the Corridors of the Dunwich Building, Denis was quick to slip to one side, pulling his red hood over his eyes to protect his face. Maeve was at least smart enough to do the same...
He was glad that he ignored his instincts and didn't leave her outside.
"Whatever Kvatch is... It's in danger of a large, organized Mutant Raid... Assuming it survives the Overlord. They're in much more distress than we are..."
"Erm... Isn't she off to get an army? Those... Mutants in the lobby are most likely to be her squaddies... We should probably call the Brotherhood to take care of it." Maeve suggested.
"Or... Do it ourselves."
"Nah, it'd be a bloodbath... most likely for us. I've dealt with worse but not with company before... I'd rather not lose anyone, unless it's necessary." Denis offered, considering it.
"Assuming Kvatch is some sort of... Town, like Megaton? I think we can find some friends there, maybe call them on for re-enforcements."
"Not the Brotherhood?" Maeve offered, getting Denis to shrug.
"Kvatch would be ashes by the time they got here." The Wanderer pointed out, drawing his walkie.
"DC-1 here, over."
"DC-1? Thought you'd gone quiet... Are you in?"
"I'm in... But there's too many for you to deal with or me... I have an idea to get re-enforcements but I'll have to go dark for a while." Denis whispered, glancing around.
"I could be gone hours, days even... Call in re-enforcements from the Citadel and wait for my go, if it takes longer than... let's say 3 days? I'm probably dead and you can do whatever."
"And Maeve?"
Denis glanced down to his Daughter, really not liking this. Still, there was nowhere he'd rather have her than in arm's reach, where he could keep her safe.
"She's coming with me." The Wanderer opted to cut out any protest by turning the walkie off, doubting that the Scribe and her merry band of misfits would approve of this...
"Alright, just got to get through that portal." Denis observed, fully making his way down the stairs. He was glad that the caves were freezing or else he'd be stuffed in all of these layers.
He approached the Portal, from the stairway, admiring its beauty as it shimmered and altered in shape and strength between phases.
It was honestly beautiful and the scientist in him wanted to test it and take notes... the explorer in him wanted to jump in head first.
"Dawn is Breaking." A monotone voice said, prompting Denis to look around to the bald man, who had just come back from the raid.
"Erm... That's nice." Denis winced, wondering if he'd hit his head on the way back. He opted to move closer to the portal but found that his arm had been snatched up by the bald man.
"Dawn. Is. Breaking."
"Your wrist will be breaking if you don't let go of me!" Denis hissed, not in the mood for this cryptic, cultist bullshit.
"PROFLIGATE!" The Bald Man Roared, off the back of the Wanderer's answer, getting the attention of everyone in the cavern, who now had weapons of varying shapes and sizes drawn.
"Kill him!" The Dark Elf demanded, getting a look from Denis as he saw the grey skinned, red eyed boss of the weird five-foot crimson gang.
"Woah! You're... You're magnificent!" His wonder was cut short as Maeve fired a shot, into the Bald Man's head, causing him to convulse and fall to the floor.
"Dad!?" Maeve yelled, somewhat annoyed by his geeking out over this as their cover was blown.
"Right! Sorry! Through the portal Maeve, just run!"
"Stop them!" The Dark Elf yelled, prompting Denis to shoot him, somewhere in his torso as he ran past. He didn't exactly have time to align his shot to his vitals, so he just found satisfaction in watching him fly backwards.
If he wasn't dead, he wouldn't exactly be up and about any time soon...
The Lone Wanderer watched Maeve go through, just before he did. Within the blink of an eye, his vision was engulfed in white.
The Overlord was one of the toughest challenges that Pilerius had faced in a while, not the toughest ever... far from it but this cushy life hadn't provided him with much opportunity for combat experience.
The two of them were incredibly stubborn, confident to the point of arrogance that they were going win. Were this a sentient creature, he'd find it admirable.
Despite several deep wounds, the Fel Orc was insistent on throwing more punches, fighting back even harder. Pilerius only had so much to throw at it before he found the fight tedious and he was long past that point.
Magic didn't seem to be doing much to the beast either, fire just pissed it off, ice and lightning weren't much better and it was too angry for any kind of illusion to work on it. It just seemed to ignore the spells and keep coming for him.
He could tell that he was weakening it but it was still standing, like the stubborn beast that it was. He had Dawnfang at least, his trusty soul eating blade. It was only second to Umaril's great sword, which was currently in the beast's hands.
By now, the creature had recovered and was charging right at Pilerius, with an enraged roar as it unleashed all of its feral nature on the blue argonian. Sadly, this was no match for actual skill as the Count spotted a handful exploits that this left...
"WHY WON'T YOU DIIEEE!?" The Overlord screamed raising the great sword over his head and striking downwards, of course, Pilerius had already ducked down and rolled aside, slicing the creature's tendon, behind its foot, with Dawnfang.
This would have crippled the creature, had a blasting stick not been fired, hitting its head and exploding it on impact. Brains, blood and skull fragments flew up into the air and rained down on Pilerius, prompting him to recoil and shake it off. For all he knew, it could be diseased or poisonous or anything.
He looked back to the wall for any sign of his men but none of them seemed to be up there, leading him to the conclusion that it must have come from outside the walls. His orange eyes shifted to see a pale imperial, with messy brown hair and a rough beard, donning an armoured leather coat and brandishing an impressively colourful blasting stick, that looked somewhat more primitive than the others he'd seen.
Beside him stood a young girl, who was... less impressive. From what the Argonian could see, they were related, similar features, though the girl had darker skin. Possibly half Redguard?
The two of them stared at Pilerius, seemingly spooked by him. It took him a moment to realise why, until he observed the devices, strapped to the warriors' arms.
They were not of this world...
Likelihood was that they had never seen an Argonian before and were processing him, his likely strange appearance...
Denis had personally never seen anything like this, a man-sized blue lizard humanoid, in fancy ceremonial armour, carrying a demonic sword. It was a shame that he didn't have a working camera as this would be one for the scrapbook.
"D-Dad he's... He's a giant lizard."
"Don't be rude Maeve." Denis murmured, holstering his weapon.
"But he's a giant lizard! This is..." She scoffed, practically choking on her words as she tried to compose herself.
"Are you okay?" Denis offered, stepping forward, with his hands raised.
"Few walk away from a fight with an Overlord, unscathed. I have... medical supplies, if you need them."
"Overlord?" Pilerius mused before clearing his throat.
"N-No... Thank you but we have our own healers, they're gifted with restoration magic and should be able to tend to any wounds we've sustained. I personally am unharmed."
Denis nodded, glancing back to Maeve, who was still somewhat baffled by it all. Possibly more baffled by her Father's laissez faire attitude to it all.
"Restoration... Magic?" Maeve found herself asking, picking up on the fact that magic was real here and not just those weirdo cultists doing parlour tricks.
"You... Come from a world, without magic?" The Argonian enquired.
"In our world, magic's... mostly just tricks, we don't cast spells or anything. Though there's sometimes strange occurrences, like the building that got us here." Denis was somewhat objective about this, though in truth, he was still enamoured by the beauty of this world. This is like their world, pre-war, only more pure.
Medieval history, come to life! This was... very difficult to not lose yourself in. It was like living a Grognak the Barbarian comic.
"You two look culture shocked, I'm sure that we have a lot of differences to work through. So, I suggest we retire to my keep, where we can talk, without fear of Mythic Dawn Agents sneaking up on us." The Count offered, seeing that as more than reasonable, something that Denis readily agreed with.
"Sounds good to me. I can... Help you, any way that I'm able anyway? It's what I... We do."
Pilerius found himself nodding, picking up his sword and gesturing to the Gatling Laser before picking it up.
"Don't want anyone picking this up..."
"That thing's... I'm amazed any of you are left." Denis admitted.
"So am I..." Pilerius sighed, stepping through the newly burned hole in the gate.
Denis stood in the great hall of County Kvatch, once a smouldering ruin, like his home, it now stood as a grand testament to the immovability of this City and its people.
Pilerius sat atop a grand red throne, with a golden trim. He found this to be his favourite way of dealing with visitors, unbiased, objective.
Observant but not judgemental, the best approach.
"As... Grateful as I am for your offer of help, I must inform you that your cooperation could mean life and death for my city. As a result, I require your cooperation. Right now, I'm requesting it but don't assume that I'll put you before my city." Pilerius began, about as welcoming as a medieval society can be.
"However, I doubt that you'll put me in that position."
"Not if I can help it." Denis admitted, with a shrug.
"I have to admit, I don't often get along with authority figures but I usually try my best."
He paused, placing his hand on his chest.
"Denis Callaghan, this is my daughter, Maeve." As he spoke, the girl did a brief and rather shy wave. She felt like she was shrinking...
"Oh, of course! You won't know who I am..." The Argonian observed, sitting upright.
"I am Pilerius, Count of Kvatch as well as its champion. I have several other titles but I won't bore you with them."
"Well, I imagine most of them would go over our heads anyway." Denis admitted, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"I'm a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel... Star Paladin, if we're being technical."
"Ah... A high-ranking warrior? Impressive." Pilerius observed.
"You know, I find it unfair, that we are unable to trade anecdotes and stories about our worlds. We are unfortunately pressed for time and I have a city full of wounded to contend to. If you'd be willing to answer some questions, I have about these creatures that are attacking us? It would be of great help."
"Course! Whatever you need." Denis insisted, stepping forward.
"Erm... Maeve, would you like to erm... Explore the City? It's not that big and it's bound to be more fun than being here."
Maeve was torn, wanting to be useful but not seeing a way how to be, she opted to go with her Father's advice.
"So long as you're sure. I erm... I'll come back in about an hour?" She offered, finding a nod and a warm smile from her Father.
"Stay outta trouble, kiddo."
"Pfft... Spoken like someone who doesn't know me." Maeve sighed, turning back around and stepping out.
"Have fun you two!"
The two of them watched her leave, Denis lingering on her longest... He was concerned for her safety in this place.
"She's a remarkable child. I envy your parenting skills..." Pilerius admitted, getting Denis' attention.
"You're a... Father as well?"
"Yes. Though I didn't have the skill or time to raise children. I... sent them to be raised by Priests." He admitted, rising to his feet.
"I hope one becomes a paladin, like you. The other? His destiny is beyond my control... I just hope that he chooses the right path."
Denis nodded, understanding that feeling. He had faith in Maeve but was always dreading the day that she met someone, who lead her astray or lost faith in the Good Fight.
"That's all you can do really... As a parent. It's what it all boils down to, in the end."
Kvatch was a strange place to Maeve, it was so... peaceful and clear. The water was pure and drinkable, though everyone frowned upon you for taking a sip. The sky was a clear blue, the air was pure and there was no grit or dust floating around.
It was like... heaven.
The people constantly stared at her, partly because of how she dressed but also the way that she responded to things. It was hard to just ignore things like fresh, unmutated fruit!
Green grass, that smelled fresh! Wine made from fresh grapes and not manufactured in God knows where. Not an artificial thing in sight and all light was natural or from some sort of flame.
The way people spoke was so... strange. They had human, green mutant-like faces and one of them was a giant cat person! People wore armour, carried swords and shields and gnarled wooden sticks. They could cast fire with their hands and barely did anything with it, like it was the most mundane thing in the world.
It was all so... overwhelming.
Eventually, she pushed into a back alleyway and found a strangely comforting site ahead of her. A small plot for graves... three stones, stood in a line. All of them looked relatively new.
She approached them, hoping to read their inscriptions. Something she liked to do at home, so that someone would at least notice their last impression on the earth. Sometimes there'd be a moving quote or the briefest glimpse into a sad story...
In this case, there was little on offer, other than them all being killed during the 'Siege of Kvatch' in the 3rd Era.
Given that the newspaper, she'd seen someone reading, described this as the '4th Era' that would mean that they had recently had a change in eras. Maeve would be damned if she knew what constituted one...
That was one thing about this place, that unnerved her. Nobody was safe, even in their homes, behind city walls.
Megaton had only been properly raided twice in twenty years and both of those threats were permanently dealt with. To imagine a world where such threats would persist, on an almost annual basis was somewhat... unnerving.
She looked through the names and found that one of them was dedicated to a 'Saint Jiub.' Supposedly, this was some sort of holy site for someone, though it was done up like any old grave...
She knelt down and eyed it, noticing that a few offerings had been left for the saint. Gold coins, flowers, some other weird flora or fauna or whatever the shit those mushrooms and weed-like vines were and a small pot full of ash.
Figuring it would be best to be respectful, she drew three caps from her pocket and placed them with the gold coins before rising to her feet, she stepped back before taking a breath, feeling considerably better about the whole... being in an alien world thing.
However, her anxiety shot back up again as she bumped into some armour plating. She shivered and looked around, to notice that she was being towered over by a grey skinned elf, very similar to the one that was stood in front of the portal, only this one was a bit older and donned Samurai Armour of sorts and looked considerably more weathered.
"O-Oh! S-Sorry! You snuck up on me!" She stammered, finding herself taken by surprise.
"My apologies, sera." The Grey Elf said, giving her a light bow.
"I was merely observing your offering and didn't expect you to get up so quickly."
"My... offering?" Maeve looked back, the caps slipped her mind.
"Oh, yeah! They're erm... Bottle caps! Currency in my world, like your gold pieces."
"You trade with metal wine corks?" The Grey Warrior observed.
"Are you from the Shivering Isles per chance?"
Maeve had no idea what that was, so she assumed that she wasn't from there.
"I'm from erm... That world, where the Super Mut- erm... the big green guys came from? Not your big green guys, with the teeth! The yellow-green guys, who snarl and are really dumb."
"I am familiar with them, yes." The Grey Elf acknowledged, considering what she was saying.
"That somewhat puts our theory that those creatures were the sole inhibitors of your world or the closest thing you had to intelligent life."
"Yeah, we have humans, like you and... Ghouls. They were humans but they sort of rotted, because of the radiation. We don't quite know how it works but we don't really count them as humans for... some reason."
"Hmm... Fascinating. This... 'radiation' is what? Heat?"
"Erm... At first? Then it's like... Well, from what I understand, it kills cells. The erm... things that you're made up of? There's millions of tiny cells in your blood, that carry information around and Gamma Radiation kills them off, kind of like a fire that you can't see.
Most of our world is covered in it, thanks to the nukes."
The Grey Elf clearly struggled to comprehend a lot of this, Maeve's nerves causing her to babble wasn't exactly helping either.
"You are from a world, with invisible fire, that rots your flesh? It sounds... Nightmarish." The Grey Elf observed, taking a few steps down and kneeling up, like a disciplined warrior.
"Tell me, what are the green creatures?"
"They're human?" Pilerius asked, in disbelief.
"They were..." Denis answered, pacing around the Supermutant's corpse, coming to a stop on the opposite side.
"Before they had everything ripped away from them."
Denis had been led to the torture chamber, which Pilerius mostly used as an autopsy room or a prison. He wasn't the biggest fan of torture; it was hardly reliable or useful as a tool.
"Immune to Radiation and seemingly immortal, these things were seen as human point two by some mad bastards. However, it didn't exactly stick as they're sterile and don't reproduce."
Denis paused, to clear his throat, realising that he was getting ahead of himself.
"Basically, they were supposed to be a new race of superior beings but... the idea fell through. Some people use them as super soldiers, other batches of them were made by accident. From the looks of things, these guys are one of few, who work with non-mutants."
"The Mythic Dawn work with Daedra, so that's hardly surprising." Pilerius observed.
"The red cultists, you've encountered? They're remnants of a Daedra worshipping cult, who tried to bring about the end of the world. I stopped them and severed their connection to Oblivion for as long as possible... Somehow though, they found a way to your world."
"Hmm... They seem to be using a magic obelisk of sorts, one that I destroyed years ago but could potentially be used as some sort of relay? Maybe they put some other form of demonic entity in there, giving it new life?"
Denis fell back into deep thought, considering the possibilities. This wasn't his area of expertise, that was all that he knew at this point.
"Hmm... That's more or less probable at this point." Pilerius agreed, eyeing the mutant's corpse.
"Given how primordial these beasts are, it doesn't surprise me that Mehrune's Dagon was able to appeal to their baser instincts. Their urge to destroy must seem like virtue to him and his followers."
"Yeah... They're naturally destructive on their own. The thought of them having religion? It's... Somewhat unnerving."
Denis wasn't sure if Super Mutants were as evolved as the reports suggested. Since his time, they had started to form tribes and clans, splitting up the once unified hoard. There was little explanation as to why they were no longer one united force, however, instances like this were starting to shed some light on the matter. Perhaps some were more intelligent than their comrades and outgrew them? It was worth looking into, if possible...
"Who was the erm... grey skinned, red eyed elf? He has a sort of... brown goatee, wears a lot of red? Has some sort of superiority complex?"
"Degaul?" Pilerius ventured, though he sounded like he was sure of it.
"A Mythic Dawn survivor, he's supposedly re-establishing the order but I personally think his fringe group is something new. The uniforms are just likely old stock."
"I take it that he's Dagon's... Go to guy?" Denis offered, figuring that was an apt description.
"Perhaps. Though I never encountered him, a few years back. He wasn't in Cameron's inner circle or heading any chapters. I personally think he was a nobody, who is grabbing power, now that he has the chance but I could be wrong. I know that he's supposedly a brilliant mage, was expelled from the Mage's college as a young lad, he'd pop up on occasion in reports and memoirs but I haven't run into him until now.
From the looks of it, he started travelling the world before I hit the scene."
"My Lord!" Matius' voice echoed, in the dark of the corridors as he limped towards them. He looked pale and was sporting a stump, where his hand should be, wrapped heavily under bandages.
"Captain? Why are you walking about? You just lost a hand!"
"I'm fine! Or at least I will be. I'm not going to sit in a bed, whilst my men fight and die, during my absence."
It was at this point that he paused, observing the strange man and looking incredibly confused. His clothes were so expertly crafted, with machine-like precision but that's impossible, surely.
"Matius, this is Paladin Denis Callaghan of the other world. He has come to aid us in repelling the invading force." The Blue Argonian clarified.
"M-My Lord! Are you sure it's wise, letting him in, unchecked? For all we know, he could be working with the Fel-Orcs."
"Fel-Orcs?" Denis asked, having no idea, what he was on about.
"It's what we dubbed your... 'Super Mutants...'" Pilerius clarified.
"We assumed that they were defective or primal orcs. From what you said about meeting one of their Orc Cultists? I'm sure you can see where we were coming from."
"Heh... We thought that guy was a Super Mutant, when we first met him, so I most certainly can." Denis chuckled, looking back to Matius.
"Don't worry about me, I'm no friend of this cult. One of them held my daughter at knifepoint, just hours ago. I've been fighting the Supermutants for years and these... red cultists don't seem to agree with me on anything."
"All he has to back himself up is words, sire. I suggest we detain him or have guards shadow him."
"Honestly, given that he has superior blasting sticks to us, I doubt our guards would trouble him." Pilerius shrugged.
"I'd rather not aggravate potential allies, by automatically branding them as the enemy, sight unseen."
'Blasting sticks' had a nice ring to it. The Wanderer was somewhat hesitant to label them as 'guns' as that seemed... anachronistic.
Speaking of which...
"One thing I'd like to say about your... 'blasting sticks.'" Denis observed, scratching his head.
"I'd like to make a deal with you, on account of our... shared technology. Once this is over, I'd suggest returning all foreign items to their native realms. Given that your technology is somewhat... limited, throwing firearms into the mix would likely be a cultural disaster."
Pilerius nodded, having similar thoughts himself as Denis continued.
"Your regular weapons, swords, bows and arrows, crossbows and so on... they're somewhat primitive versions of our own technology. No offense intended but from what I gather, you've been focussing more on magic than technology, right?
I'd say the same is true of our universe, magic isn't a concept to us and to introduce it could potentially bring a whole new universe of dangers, right to our front doorstep. The only thing that we can do, to protect ourselves from these anachronisms is to cover them up as best as possible."
"Agreed." Pilerius said, unflinchingly.
"Sire! Those weapons could help Kvatch, were it to fall under siege again! Imagine how effective they would be against the Daedra!"
"Imagine if the Daedra got a hold of one and made their own?" Pilerius pointed out.
"Imagine if the Altmer or the Empire started building them and continued to manufacture the other nightmares of Denis' world. We have seen where this technology leads us, Matius. Denis has been telling me for hours, how he and his people live in ruins and how the air itself is toxic and tries to kill them piece by piece.
I may not have been there but it sounds like a plane of Oblivion, a plane created by deterrents to stop old deterrents, that were to stop old deterrents. These... Blasting Sticks were just the start of a long line of destructive weapons, ending with a device that can reduce a city to ruins, its people to shadows and the environment to a toxic soup.
Tamriel is not ready for their technology, Captain. As far as I'm concerned, it never will be. So, we will return everything that we can to Denis' world and he will do the same. Once this is over, we will do as much damage control as possible, so that these cultists don't end up destroying our world by proxy.
Do you understand?"
His question wasn't so much of a demand for confirmation but a request, a light probe to see if Matius followed his logic. Though the Captain clearly felt differently, he couldn't argue... Pilerius was still right, even if his feelings didn't like it.
"Understood, Count Pilerius. Your... Judgement is wise."
"In the meantime, Denis will need to take us to the ruin, where he arrived. There, we can find a way to ambush them, on the other side and contain the cultists to the ruin itself."
"Sounds like a plan, I'll grab Maeve and we'll be able to set off." The Regulator stepped back glancing back down the hallway before making his way out, somewhat relieved that they were on the same page.
He was half expecting to have to pry the guns from the Lizard's fingers.
The Veteran Dunmer listened intently to Maeve for some time as she told him everything that he asked to know about her world. It was amazing what little things peaked the old warrior's curiosity.
"It's... Terrifying. Your world." The Dunmer commented as he rose to his feet.
"You're incredibly brave for having faced it."
"Nah, I grew up in a Vault. I've only been out there for two years or so... I gotta admit, it was terrifying at first but now it's just sorta... Well, once you've been some crazy lady's pet for a few days? It all starts to feel comparatively easy."
"Yes, I'd agree..." The Dunmer sighed, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword, so that he had somewhere to put it.
"I started off leading a city watch, then Scire and I end up in a conspiracy, arranged by his ex-wife."
Maeve couldn't help but frown as she wondered what was behind that story...
"Hmm... My parents aren't together, thankfully there aren't any conspiracies. Aside from the whole... 'Not telling me or my Dad that we're related' one." Maeve took a deep breath before sighing, rubbing her nose.
Something about the air here irritated it... Probably the flowers.
"Hmm... You know, it has been a long time, since I last went on an adventure." The Dunmer admitted, considering it.
Looking at him, Maeve wouldn't consider him to be that old. He had a few wrinkles and had quite dark hair, his demeanour was also that of a man of many years but were this guy human, she wouldn't even assume him to be fifty.
"Hopefully I'll find one here..."
"Could come with us for a bit?" Maeve offered, feeling kind of excited that she was seemingly recruiting her first companion.
"We could use someone from this world, who can hold his own in a fight. Erm... You can hold your own, right?"
"I once killed a Giant Bull Netch with a dinner fork. If that answers your question." The Dunmer shrugged.
"Erm... Yeah, that'll do."
"Maeve?" Her Father chipped in, stepping in from behind her.
"Oh, making friends already?"
"Yeah! This is erm..." Maeve paused, wincing.
"Shit! Forgot to ask your name."
"Geoth." The Dunmer answered, there was a pause as if there should be more to it.
"You are?"
"Maeve! Maeve Callaghan and this is my Dad, Denis."
"That's me, hurray!" Denis was somewhat flippant about this introduction as he'd done so many today and he was itching to get to that portal.
"Geoth wants to come with us, to stop the Muties from coming through. I said it was okay." Maeve admitted, getting a raised brow from Denis. She was expecting refusal or reluctant agreement but not...
"Okay."
The way he said it was so... sure. It felt wrong to not be challenged, when taking the initiative.
Maeve was at such an awkward age, it made life particularly difficult, even when it was going her way.
"Glad to be with you, lead on." Geoth shrugged, his eye shifted to stare Denis down as he seeming scanned him for clues. He could tell that Denis had fought a lot of battles, not just from the scars but from his eyes, that appeared older than the rest of his face.
His clothes looked as beaten as he did, fingers blistered from the fire of blasting sticks and hand cannons.
He could tell that Denis was the Scire or Pilerius of his world. A Hero in role but not necessarily in nature... Only time would tell.
The Regulator turned away and slipped his hands into his coat pockets, stepping over to the gate, where he was expecting to meet Pilerius and Captain Hook.
He wasn't exactly expecting to be dropping a five-year brewing bombshell, straight on the Count, during his most challenging time in office but that's exactly what Denis did. Even if it was via proxy.
He approached, quite confidently and getting a glare from the Blue Argonian, who was just about to inform him about the next part of his plan, when he saw him.
Standing, like the last five years hadn't happened, Geoth smuggled his way into the back ranks, finding himself immediately within Pilerius' radar.
"You! Stop!"
Geoth hung his head, sighing heavily as the Argonian approached, snatching his chin and forcing him to look into the eyes of the pupil, he'd long since abandoned.
"Hey! He's on our side, he offered to help!" Maeve found herself unsure as to what was going on but didn't like the way that this man was instantly demonized for offering his help. Little did she know that his help had been offered to his assailant, long ago and it ended just as badly as this might.
"The Girl speaks the truth, Pilerius. I am here to assist you, in repelling the invasion."
"Expecting me to forget Harlon's Watch, like that? You tried to kill me!"
"I tried to make you kill me. You failed. Unfortunate but it's hardly your fault."
"Why!?"
It was a simple question, almost innocently so.
"I wanted us both to move on but you were far too dependent on me. You weren't the boy, that I found, years ago. You were too complacent, seeing me as your Father and I knew that it would only hold you back.
I... Also sought an end to it all. At the time, I longed for my family, my home and..." He paused, trying to put it into words.
It was a confusing time for him, a time of transition...
"With Scire in Akavir and Saint Jiub dead, I find myself out of allies to assist..."
Pilerius paused, taking a breath as he tried to compose himself. He'd pictured this moment for so many years and it had to come... now. When he was on the brink of war, against a clan of madmen, desperate to plane merge with a living, breathing nightmare of a world.
All that rehearsing and preparation for this moment had gone, the second that the events started to happen. Though his gut and a few unreliable information sources insisted that this man had been alive, this whole time, he hadn't quite believed it until now.
He just found him shoving the Dark Elf away, scowling as stepped back, rubbing his eyes.
"The invasion threatens two realms, Dagon will have not only have the power that you once stopped him from grasping but more besides it. I hadn't expected to seek you out again but there's no denying that the two of us are going to be far more effective than either of us could be on our own."
"You got us now!" Maeve pointed out, giving them a wave as she started to feel like chopped liver.
"This Man." Geoth began, gesturing to Denis.
"He is to his world, what you are to yours. The two of you, combined is the perfect repelling force, it'll make you even but I'll be the advantage."
Maeve sighed, not knowing what she was supposed to offer to this odd situation... She figured that she had brought the grey elf back to the lizard man... so that was something.
"Advantage?" Denis asked, picking up on that.
"You had... Something up your sleeve?"
"In a sense... I taught Pilerius everything that he knows. Were I to throw my blade in with you, there would be three of us and whatever number they throw our way, which I'm sure won't be enough."
"The Super Mutants fire bullets, something that I'm sure you haven't encountered before." Denis pointed out.
"R-Right... Akin to bolts but smaller, faster and far more devastating. I will have to be fast..."
"Aren't you a little old for 'fast?'" Maeve quickly bumbled in a 'no offense intended' on top of that.
"Hardly, I'll ache for days after but I'll manage it."
"You're assuming that I'm going to allow this." Pilerius pointed out.
"We cannot trust him. The last time I did, it nearly got me killed and I'm not risking that again."
"What? You think I'll attack you, mid fight? I wouldn't have killed you, even if I'd won. That was never my intention and I believe you know that."
Pilerius scoffed, tightening a fist as he eyed the young girl, who stepped between them.
"He's with me, actually. So, I can be responsible for him. If he attacks you, I'll shoot him in the back. Deal?"
"Could just save us the trouble and shoot him in the back anyway." Pilerius found himself willing to agree to that but only because he knew that it was more trouble than it was worth.
He just hoped that the men with blasting sticks would be willing to step in and gun the Dunmer down, if he tried anything.
"Captain? I'll need you remain here and keep things in order, while I'm away."
"I... Yes, sire. I'm of no use to you in my condition, I..." Matius began, getting Pilerius to fiercely shake his head.
"You are plenty of use to me, in any condition. I wouldn't trust anyone else with this city. I know what you've been through, fought for and lost to protect it. Even if you were perfectly fit, healthy and ten years younger, I'd still give you the same instruction."
Matius paused, considering it before giving the Count a respectful nod.
"Nine Protect you and lead you back to us."
"Likewise."
Pilerius found himself eyeing the large gates as they pried open, revealing the path ahead. The Argonian wondered to himself why this reunion had to happen now of all moments and why he couldn't have had Agatha or Rachel or Arik drop by.
He could at least trust them not to turn on him.
The three of them and the small army stepped out, onto the path. They hoped to get to their base of operations before any of the cultists left for another raid. It was unlikely that Kvatch could survive another.
Miscarcand... Why did it always come back to that accursed place?