Skyrim is the property of Bethesda Softworks. Thank you all for reading and I hope to hear from you on this chapter in particular. There are several like this one where I worry that the characters are doing too much too soon. Ieago and his allies are supposed to be a group of badasses, but there's a limit to how much disbelief a reader is willing to suspend. I'd be glad to hear from you constructive feedback is always welcome.
Our second attempt at entering the Ratway went more smoothly. Sticking to the main tunnel soon brought us to the Ragged Flagon, the front porch of the Thieves' Guild in Skyrim. Once part tavern and part shopping bizarre, this hidden market was now a darkened shell where a few figures drank themselves into oblivion.
The mountain-like bouncer blocked our path into the tavern section. He was about to make my life hard when a friendly voice called him off.
"It's okay Dirge, he and any with him are welcome here," Etienne said, walking up to greet me.
The sullen bouncer stepped aside.
The Breton I had sprung from Elenwen's embassy was evidently a member of the Thieves' Guild.
"It's good to see you on your feet, Etienne. How did Brelas and Malborn make out?" I asked.
"Malborn's holed up in Windhelm. As for Brelas," he smiled and glanced over his shoulder. She was serving drinks. "I set her up with a safer job. Dirge here makes sure folks are polite."
"Listen, Etienne, I'm looking for that guy Esbern. That recluse the elves were asking you about. Where would I find him down here?"
Etienne pointed to a door leading deeper into the sewers. "He'll be through there in the area called the Warrens. It's easy to find, just take any stairs you see leading down. You'd better hurry though. Some Thalmor went in just a few minutes ago."
"Thanks Etienne," I said as the three of us sprang for the door.
"Hey, when you get back, I've got something for you!"
Aela, Lydia, and I slipped quietly into the colossal sewer. We were on a landing looking down into a pit that bottomed out three stories below. The paths leading through the Ratway wound their way around the inside of this pit. Aela posted herself on an over watch by the door. The light from the Thalmor torches could be seen in the cracks and drains leading down. Lydia and I dropped down and crouched near the door we guessed they would come out of. I had put on the boots and gloves of the Dark Brotherhood. It amazed me how precise and quiet their gear's enchantments allowed me to be.
The door opened in a few minutes and the light of the Thalmor agents' torches stabbed deep into the darkness of the well. A wizard stepped out first, followed by two soldiers. Lydia and I leapt into action as Aela's arrow took the wizard in the chest. My saber lanced though the small of the elf soldier's back. The other had turned just in time to see Lydia's eyes appear like black pits. Her stab lifted the other soldier off his feet. She flung him off the edge of the path to free her blade.
We came the rest of the way to the bottom of the well without incident. There was only one door allowing us to press on and enter what I guess would be an isolated slice of Hell. The Ratway Warrens, where the mad are left alone. Heeding Aerin's warning we passed quickly and well away from the many iron-barred doors that kept the most dangerous of humanity confined and forgotten.
The last door was made of thick oak studded with iron. I pounded on the barrier and shouted for Esbern. The slot opened for a pair of eyes with large sunken bags underneath them. "Go away! There's no one here by that name," their owner slurred. A putrid waft of old grapes and vinegar found its way through the slot in the door.
"Where were you on the 30th of Frostfall?" I challenged.
"Talos save me! Delphine sent you! Give me a minute to unlock this door," he replied.
After he had opened no less than seven locks, the door opened with a clatter of empty bottles to reveal a withered old man in his seventies. Judging from the way he was swaying and clutching the door, he had not drawn a sober breath in days. "So Delphine still lives it seems. Well you better come in and tell me how you found me."
Aela and Lydia took up defensive positions outside the door. "We must be quick sir," I told him. "Delphine seems to think that you can shed some light on the return of the dragons."
"So Delphine keeps up the fight after all these years," Esbern sighed. Leaning back on his table, he grabbed another bottle and peered into it. Whatever he saw at the bottom caused a look of hopelessness to fix itself to his wrinkled face. He threw the bottle across the room where is shattered against a wine-stained portion of the wall. "I thought she would have realized it's hopeless by now," he muttered while wrestling with the cork covering a full bottle.
"What's hopeless sir?" I asked, "The Thalmor can be repelled, the dragons can be killed."
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" he snapped, almost falling back as the cork came free. "What more needs to happen before you wake up and realize what's going on? Alduin has returned just as the prophesy said. The dragon from the dawn of time, who devours the souls of the dead. No one can escape his hunger! Here or in the afterlife. Alduin will devour all things and the world will end. Nothing can stop him." He took a long pull from the green bottle before wiping his face with the back of his arm.
"Alduin is the dragon raising the others?" I asked.
Esbern nodded, working his way back onto his feet and stumbling forward to get into my face, "You see. You know. But you refuse to understand."
I suppressed the urge to gag from the stink coming out of his mouth, "You're talking about the literal end of the world?" I managed, not sure how long I could afford to humor this pathetic wreck on legs.
Esbern nodded. He gestured vaguely at his modest book collection behind a desk, strangely free of empty bottles. "Oh yes. It has already begun. Only a Dragonborn could stop him. But no Dragonborn has been known for centuries. It seems that the gods have grown tired of us. They left us to our fate as the play things of Alduin the World-Eater." His next pull downed half the bottle. He sloshed it around for a little to see how much was left.
"But I am Dragonborn," I said to the despondent man.
Lydia poked her head in at that moment. "Aela is signaling that we need to get going," she said.
It took a generous amount of prodding, but at last we got Esbern clothed and moving. I'm all for respecting our elders, but by Talos, some of us have things to do! His chattering and shiftless gathering of things for the trip cost us dearly. We had only just gotten out the door when another troop of Thalmor came into sight. It was a squad of six this time. The five soldiers faced all directions. Their swords and maces were ready in their hands. Their shields were held high. In the midst of their circle, a mage strode with hands ready and covered in magical flame.
I threw Esbern back into his room and breathed fire upon my enemies. Lydia opened her assault by running down the ramp into their tight formation, counting on the mass of her armor and her teammates to unsteady the Thalmor. I followed my own fire Shout directly off the landing above the floor and crashed into their burning midst as Lydia collided with the forward soldiers. My saber stabbed deep down into the wizard. The move steadied my landing enough to stay on my feet and drive the edge of my blade through the neck of the panicked rearguard, who was flailing his arms to extinguish the burning sewer filth covering his legs.
When all was still I walked cautiously into the dark passages where Aela hid. Around a corner I saw my lover's silhouette pulling her armor back onto her slender form. She looked over to me and the dim green light of Revenant reflected in her eyes. All around her were battered elves and torn pieces of moonstone armor and weapons. Her gaze locked on mine and for a heartbeat one green eye went black. Though I couldn't see her face, I could feel the satisfaction radiating off her.
Smelling foully of sweat, blood, and sewer, the four of us were only too happy to come through the door to the Sunken Flagon again. We rinsed off in the central cistern and sold our loot from the Thalmor. The fence I found gave me a staggering sum for Elenwen's jewelry.
Before I left, Etienne insisted on making the Guild's gratitude for his rescue known. He gave me set of black leather armor with polished steel fittings. The shoulder pads, cross belts, and pouches gave the military quality armor a rouge's flair. The matching hood came very low over my eyes. It took me a second to realize that it was like the outfits worn by many of the older Guild members I saw in the Ragged Flagon. This was high praise indeed. "The leadership of the Guild appreciates your favor," the Breton explained.
At last we made it out of that dreadful sewer. The sky was cerulean in anticipation of the coming sunrise. I asked my friends to wait for me at Aerin's house while I took care of some personal business.
The events of this chapter went through several iterations. One draft had Aela doing the fight at the end while the other characters looked on in shock, but with a guy like Esbern watching that would cause more problems than solve. In another she was a sniper, but that didn't adequately show off how dangerous she can be. A more important challenge was how to tone down Esbern, who in-game was a beastly mage who could easily clear the whole sewer without you lifting a finger. That was a question mark until I was on a business trip with a coworker with a clingy and domineering personality.