"Alkosh!" S'Rukoh choked on the name. The first cat disappeared neatly behind the tower, the first child of Ahnurr and Fadomai. It had to be. All his years of study under the clan mother, he was certain that he knew exactly whom he was looking at. He struggled upward against his captors, but they kept him bent over the block as the headsman lifted his notched axe. "Alkosh!" The cat's voice strained to go above standard speaking volume. The headsman hefted the axe over his head, and the Khajiit struggled out of irritation and impatience. The finest Khajiit was in the air, somewhere, and he could not see him!
But then he could. Tullius gave a startled squawk and threw himself out of S'Rukoh's range of vision as the great Alkosh settled onto the tower, his great weight throwing the headsman down on top of the cat, whom fell off the block with two legion soldiers attached to his clothing, while the block clattered off into the square. The big jaguar man pushed himself up with his bound paws, the uglier, not-chosen-by-Fadomai people sliding off of him and scrambling away in confusion. His chest swelled with pride. "Alkosh! Great cat, do you see one of the prettiest people? This one is Khajiit! Kenarthi must be with you, such wind follows you!"
Alkosh answered him with another of those terrible hollow sounds, and his ears flattened as lightning struck the tower, moments later followed by the din of thunder. The clouds whirled and darkened, blotted out the faint light of the sun. Why would Alkosh change the weather instead of whisking him away, to share with him secrets of past victories, to save him from his cursed existence on Nirni, to take him up to the stars and moons? "Alkosh?" The red cat asked quietly.
His doubts were multiplied as the beast on the tower opened up its maw, an even louder hollow roar falling out like waves of blue magic. The air rippled between the cathay-raht and the tower. He was frozen in fright as the great cat threw him back onto the ground without even touching him. He rolled helplessly down the slight hill, until he was stopped by a corpse. Glassy eyes met his own as his ears perked… he had been so focused on the hollow sounds that he had not heard the rending of the wood, the spritely murmurs and cracks and whistles of fire, and the tremendous tumbling of stone. He managed to get his bound hands stuck on the corpse, and hauled it upward with him. He gave a little yelp and tried to dance away from it before ripping the offending arm off with his teeth, taking another chance to fill himself as much as he could.
A rough palm gripped his elbow and tugged hard enough to jerk the cat off to his left. He spat out the arm and hissed, but noticed it was Ralof, of Riverwood, the blonde man from the cart. Jori was running ahead of them along with a mix of people, civilians and stormcloaks and legion folk all making a beeline for a smaller tower up the hill. Ralof did not stop running, so S'Rukoh turned to face the tower and jogged to keep up with the Nord's frantic sprinting. The three ducked into the building, ushered in the remaining crowd, and slammed the door shut.
The room was tense. Nobody wanted to leave, but nobody wanted to stay. The red cat carefully tried to step over charred and crying people to reach the stairs. The scent of blood was almost overwhelming. S'Rukoh found his head pulled to stare at the sources of the smell. The wounded, the burned, the dying, strewn out against the walls and on the floor. He forced himself up the tower, Ralof and Jori close behind, step by step. A dark-skinned, ragged civilian urged them from the landing, and the cat bounded up to meet him.
"He's taking down the tower!" Somebody cried from below. A claw punched through the wall right next to the cat, and he jumped back down the steps to avoid what he knew would come next. The snout of the beast ripped through the wall, throwing the old man into the darkened room and out of sight. A single eye focused on the cat from between black lids, widening then squinting before the head careened back out of the hole it had made, and emitted another roar before filling the hole with fire. S'Rukoh shook nervously and threw himself up the stairs and out of the tower, landing neatly through the ruined roof of the house next door. He kicked through the furniture and rubble as he ran, bare paw getting caught in a mug he just couldn't seem to kick off. He bounced and danced to try and get it off, and managed to throw himself through the floor and onto the ground. The cat landed hard on his back, eyes closed, only to find Jori falling through the hole he made and landing on his belly. Though he was certainly bigger than most other people would ever get, the Nord's landing was still enough to leave him breathless and disoriented.
"Get up, cat, we've got to go! There's no use in hiding!" She urged him up, first with words, then with little hands dragging him across the floor. He jerked himself free and rolled up onto his feet before sprinting out of the building, only to skid to a halt and run back at the sight of the monster overhead. A little boy was running toward a figure in the road as the shadow touched down exactly where the Khajiit needed to go. The beady-eyed man that had called names earlier called to the boy, insisted he come, then called "Torolf!" as the two retreated behind some rubble. Fire engulfed the man in the street and barely missed the child. Jori ran right past S'Rukoh and over the burning ground as the 'great cat' took flight again. The cat gave a little nod to the child before taking off after her.
The red cat was surprised to hear another pair of feet on the cobbles, and turned briefly to notice the list-reader following them. Jori ducked to hide next to a stone wall, and the cat and the stranger threw themselves against it, breathing hard. "I have to find General Tullius and join the defense… if you two want to stay alive, you should stick close to me."
Jori opened her mouth, brows furrowed and face red from exertion, to answer, but was interrupted as the beast's wings swung into view over their faces. S'Rukoh's eyes followed one talon-tipped bone up to the top of the wall, and over to the long neck and horned head hovering over them, thicker and darker than the clouds. The three stood as still as they possibly could as the monster spewed fire over the ruins of the town. It took off and flew overhead, wheeling once before its shadow disappeared. "This is no Alkosh," S'Rukoh whispered to himself.
"This is a dragon." Jori replied before darting off between two smoldering walls, list-reader not too far behind. They wound their way through a small house, then into another, before coming back to the gate they had entered by. A large group of imperial soldiers stood, waving their swords in the air, some trying to lug injured warriors off and out of the way. S'Rukoh followed his guides past the group, off down a road he had merely glimpsed on the way in. The Khajiit ducked momentarily under a stone arch, but Jori and the beady-eyed one ran ahead. Jori made a beeline for the nearest door, under yet another stone tower. The stranger ran further on, where somebody in a stormcloak uniform met them. The 'dragon' flew at the other end of the cobbled area, hovering momentarily over the far wall before moving higher and flying over the square in front of what S'Rukoh assumed to be a keep. His fur bristled as the monster moved overhead. He threw himself away from the wall and sprinted for the door Jori had disappeared through.
The cathay-raht had no success with the door, throwing himself into it, struggling to grasp the handle with his bound hands, even kicking it. He felt a hard push from behind as Ralof rushed over and threw the door open as the heat of a fire rushed at them from behind, accompanied by another of those terrible hollow roars. They looked up, panting, to take account of the circular room and its tall ceiling. Two doors adorned the bare walls, both made of heavy bars, on opposite sides of the room. There was a mostly-bare table in the corner, and a stormcloak's corpse laying against the leg. Jori was picking over the corpse, yanking the armor off and stepping into it, rifling through pockets and cursing occasionally. Ralof stood beside her. S'Rukoh took this chance to examine them, and to speak. "Khajiit wonders… what is 'dragon'? Do we speak of the peoples from Ka'Po Tun on Akavir?"
"It's whatever is out there. Some people say there used to be a lot of them, all over Skyrim." She buckled the last of the straps on the armor and turned to face them, hands on her hips. "And who exactly was this Alkosh you thought you were talking to out there? Sounds like Akatosh, a bit."
"Here, let me get your binds." Ralof approached slowly with a knife, pointed downward. The cat took a quick look at him. He was big and strong, perhaps as big as a cathay, with a wide mouth and a big nose. There was an honesty in his raised brows and big eyes. S'Rukoh bristled momentarily before allowing him to cut the binds, offering his hands forward and looking away.
"Khajiit wonders how anyone may escape from a keep."
"They're usually built with some escape routes, just in case of events… at least somewhat like this. I'm sure dragons is not what the architects intended the tunnels to be used for." Jori shrugged. "I grew up here. I even know where they are." She confidently approached the door to the right of the entrance, only to find it locked. She cursed under her breath. She kicked the door before turning to the cat and the Nord again. Ralof stepped quietly toward the opposite door and tugged on the bars, only to find it was closed, too. The three regrouped in the center of the room as the keep shook and trembled under, no doubt, the influence of the dragon outside. Nobody said anything, but the sound of voices echoed from down the left door's hallway and around the room. Ralof darted out of sight to one side of the door, and motioned for the others to follow.
S'Rukoh slowly stepped over to the corpse laying against the table and feigned looting it as he leaned over the neck. It wasn't too terribly cold, at least not as cold as he was. Ralof and Jori whispered behind him as he slid his teeth into the flesh and tried to drink quietly, hands still patting the empty pockets on the body's hips.
"Can you hear what they're saying?" It was Jori's voice. S'Rukoh liked her voice. It was lively and she used a lot of different intonations when others maybe would have sounded flat. It had a low, hardy quality to it without being gruff.
"I can't, lass. But they do seem to be coming this way." Ralof almost sounded melodic, the Khajiit thought, compared to many of the other peoples he had listened to in his travels. It went up and down in places, and he sounded soft even when he was in a rough spot like this.
The cathay-raht drained the corpse and dropped it. Warmth flooded through him, and he was momentarily glad he wasn't dressed in much more than rags. He flexed his arms and whipped his tail back and forth before rushing to the door the others hid near. He got a few urgent "What are you doing?" whispers from Jori and Ralof as he gripped and shook the bars, giving a beastial, feral yowl at the top of his lungs as he did so. One of the bars snapped clean off and he adjusted his grip, holding it like a spear as he let go of the door and ducked off to the side. The voices had ceased, and been replaced by the hurried padding and clanking of armored feet down the hallway. S'Rukoh nimbly leapt up on top of the table, which rocked slightly, and pulled his arm back to throw the bar. He could make out figures stopping at the other side of the door, then pulling a lever as the bars slid out of the way. He tensed his muscles, whiskers waiting for signal to move. It came not even a heartbeat after the door moved, two legion soldiers and the captain charging through the door with weapons drawn. The red cat aimed and flicked the spear forward, impaling his target. Ralof and Jori became locked in battle with the captain, cornering them against the wall. S'Rukoh leapt off the table and bounded once before clambering onto the third soldier, dragging him down to the floor with his massive weight. He pulled off the soldier's leather helm and opened his maw wide as he ducked down and clamped his teeth over their face, twisting and rending it to the sound of muted screams. S'Rukoh moved down to the neck once the head was appropriately pulped, snapping his teeth over the trachea and tearing it out to make the blood flow freely.
His head snapped upward as he heard Jori cry out behind him, then swiveled to see that the captain, laid out on the floor with an axe in their chest, had chopped hard enough at Jori's leg to topple her. He dropped his meal and darted over, tail flitting back and forth as he assessed the wound. "Don't leave me behind." She choked through her tears. "Don't you dare leave me behind. I'm not dead, yet."
"It is not that bad, Khajiit thinks." S'Rukoh pulled the ruined padding off the leg and wrapped it around the wound once, tying it tight. She sobbed and threaded her fingers in his hair before beating his back with her fist. "Be glad this one has a thick hide, Jori, and big arms. When cathay-raht puts you on his back, hold on. To his hair, around his neck. It does not matter."
She nodded her assent, big, dark eyes even bigger with fear. Ralof stood nearby with his arms crossed and his head tilted slightly to one side. "Are you sure you can fight with a little girl on your back, cat?"
"I'm not a little girl," Jori whimpered as the cat swung her up off the floor and laid her on his back. She struggled to pull herself up, throwing her arms over his shoulders and then lacing her hands together around his neck.
"Khajiit can do many things." His chest swelled with pride as he gently moved the Nord's legs to rest over his hip bones, and then rifled through the weapons on the floor, picking up a short sword. "This one will not climb or run too fast, though."
"Why carry her at all? She can only take one hit… what if she just gets hurt more as we escape?"
"Khajiit remembers, Jori is of Helgen, she says she knows the way out." He ducked his head, "Jori was also the legion soldier that watched S'Rukoh when he was captured. She offered to let this one free, and was caught doing so."
Jori let out a grunt as though to answer them, and pointed down at the captain's corpse. "Key."
Ralof jumped a bit and trotted over to the corpse, noticing the keyring at the captain's hip almost immediately. He roughly pulled it free before jogging over to the locked door and testing several of the keys on the lock. The Khajiit approached slowly behind him and perked his ears as the lock clicked after some handful of keys. Ralof gave a little laugh and offered the keyring to the cat, whom handed it to Jori. She slipped it over her wrist like a bracelet and resumed the struggle to stay on the cathay-raht's back. The group ducked through the door, into a small chamber, then descended a round stairway. The dragon roared somewhere above, and dust rained from the ceiling as they passed another open door frame. Jori gestured to the right as they entered a long hallway. Ralof stopped, peering through the dust. S'Rukoh noticed several figures down the hall and approached the Nord to tell him so. The building shook much harder than either of them had seen yet, and the roof collapsed over the hallway.
"That way" Jori pointed out a mundane, easily-missed door to the left, and the two passed through it into a kitchen. It was fairly warm and well stocked, with a roaring fire and cookpots all over. There was a table and a support column off to the right, and a large, open area that led to storage. The Khajiit shuffled over the carpet to peer about the column, and noticed more figures lounging against the crates on the other side of the room. Ralof ran towards them, axe raised, without figures responded in kind, drawing swords and charging at the Nord. The cathay-raht adjusted his grip on his sword and jogged to join the fray, maw open in a snarl and eyes wild. He bounced once on his feet before charging full speed, roaring and yowling. The legion soldiers dropped their weapons and ran to the right and out of sight behind the kitchen wall, Ralof grunted a quick 'hey' and ran to give chase. The jaguar man chuckled a bit to himself and picked through the barrels in the storage area for something nice.
"This one has found a potion for Nord."
Jori gurgled slightly as S'Rukoh set her down on a chair in the kitchen and uncorked the red potion. It was barely a sip to him, but hopefully it would be the mouthful that the girl needed. Perhaps she was simply overwhelmed by the injury. It had been the only one she had gotten, after all, but she was coated in a film of sweat and dust, eyes lidded and dazed, and seemed to have trouble keeping her head upright. Ralof rounded the corner, axe raised, but relaxed at further inspection of the scene. Jori slumped in the chair before her pale hand shot upward for the potion. Her dark hair was in her eyes and she blew it out of the way with a shot of air from her pale lips. The cathay-raht gave her the potion, keeping a palm upturned underneath just in case she spilled it down her front.
There was no problem, however, as Jori guzzled the entire potion and visibly relaxed, slumping further in the chair and lifting her injured leg up to stretch it a bit.
"Well.. that was scary." She muttered. "I think I'm ready to go, now, though." She swung herself up, out of the chair, and picked up a mace off the floor.
S'Rukoh gave a little smile before he turned the corner and kicked a legion soldier's corpse out of the way of the door. Ralof stood beside him as he opened it. It lead to another small chamber and a set of wide stairs, voices and the terrible sound of electricity echoed up the stone walls. Ralof rushed down the steps, axe at the ready. S'Rukoh and Jori were only a short ways behind him when he caught sight of the room below and exclaimed "A torture chamber!" and rushed out of sight. The two rounded the corner and saw the cause of the din. It certainly was a torture chamber, cages and dangerous-looking implements littered the room, the floor coated in blood. A mage, no doubt, in legion armor was throwing lightning at Ralof and two battered stormcloaks. Jori charged forward and pounded the mage in the head with her mace, while Ralof tried to gut them with his axe. S'Rukoh slipped out of the torchlight and pilfered through the cages, picking things up off the floor and coming across a large backpack on a table. He picked it up and rifled through it as a bolt of lightning zipped past his head. The cat ducked and felt at his ear before turning to see that that bolt had been the mage's last. He picked up the bag again from where he'd dropped it in fright and swung it over his shoulder. He scooped up a few books and lockpicks and threw them in the bag as Ralof talked with the stormcloaks they'd found. One book, in particular, about something called the 'Dragonborn', piqued his interest. But this was no time to read, so he slipped it into the bag as well.
At some point the group had agreed to move on, so S'Rukoh and Jori followed them. Ralof moved ahead to speak mostly with the stormcloaks as they walked the narrow hallway leading out of the torture room.
"So… why did you keep me with you?"
"Sei'dar."
"Sei'dar?" She turned to walk backwards for a moment, looking up at the big cat in the dark.
He nodded. "Selflessness. Khajiit do not do it often." He winked and directed her to turn around as they approached some stairs off to the left. They entered a room with several stone platforms, skeleton-filled cages hanging above them. "It seems torture does not stop in torture room."
Jori made a disgusted face and approached the far end of the room, where a hole had formed in the wall big enough for people to pass. Ralof and the stormcloaks waited for them there.
"This is where it joins some caverns that lead out of the city." Jori said quietly. S'Rukoh peered through the hole. It certainly was the end of the keep-the bricks abruptly ended and the walls of a cave, sinuous and twisting and throwing dangerous shadows, began. This change seemed to have been planned, as several lit braziers showed the way through the tortuous, misty halls of the cavern.