Last time our hero just barely survived a Falmer attack in a cave he was exploring.

In this episode Craak-Boom meets a friendly face.

Craak-Boom was wishing he spent more time studying the school of Restoration and less time shooting firebolts at bottles as he hovered a shaky skin of ale over his wounded side. Craak-Boom winced as the stinging liquid disinfected the deep gash as watered-down blood retreated from his wound. He corked the remaining contents, but not before taking a healthy swig for himself. Craak placed the skin besides his discarded robe which was neatly folded atop the driest rock he could find. He had been lucky, the Falmer's crude weapon seemed to have missed anything vital much to Craak-Boom's delight, but despite his luck he was having a hard time remembering how to cast one of the most basic healing spells. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins making it hard to concentrate. He knew he had to hurry to stop the bleeding, he wasn't sure if there were more Falmer around, and he wasn't too keen on passing out in this cave.

"Okay, okay, think."

Craak-Boom took a deep breath remembering his breathing exercises in an attempt to calm his nerves. He blocked out the sound of rushing water, even his own breathing, until all he could hear was the steady rhythm of his own heart. Concentrating, Craak-Boom placed a hand over his side, and with some difficulty he conjured a warm, soothing light from his hand. Sighing with relief he watched his rended side slowly knit itself back together.

That's going to leave a scar...

In fact, glancing over his exposed chest and back he noted there was a map of ugly scars, bruises, bent and cracked scales, some of which he didn't even recognize.

I should've never left Cyrodiil. he thought wryly tugging his robe back over his body before reclaiming his belongings.

It was then Craak-Boom quickly considered his next course of action: He could go back the way he came and warn the nearby mining settlement of Darkwater Crossing, maybe even go to the Jarl of Windhelm for assistance, but immediately dismissed the idea.

Even if I could get an audience with Ulfric, and convince him of the threat he'd just feed me some nonsense about the war effort and not enough spare men.

It was no secret that Ulfric shared no love for the Dragonborn. As far as Craak-Boom was concerned the feeling was very much mutual, he spat in frustration. As Craak-Boom mulled this over he began to hear movement over the rushing water coming from atop the waterfall. He glanced up just in time to see three Falmer notching arrows a few stories above him.

Craak-Boom dove for a nearby stalagmite arrows whizzing overhead.

How in Oblivion do they even know where I am?

Craak-Boom angled the rock formation between him and the three archers.

I'm no scholar, but they don't seem to have eyes!

He growled to himself while taking a step to peer around the rock formation.

*Splosh*

Craak-Boom quickly ducked back into cover as arrows ricocheted off the damp rock.

Of course, their blindness must have given them an acute sense of hearing he deducted.

Well, lets give them something to listen to!

Craak-Boom picked a pebble off the ground and threw it a few feet away clattering loudly against the cave wall. Just as he hoped the sound of three arrows bouncing uselessly off of rock accompanied it.

Now's my chance!

Craak-Boom spun around the stalagmite fireball in hand.

"Have one of these!"

The fireball flung from his hands aimed at the center of the trio with the intention of incinerating all three, but alas, perhaps it was the ale he drank earlier, or maybe it was the blood-loss, but the fireball flew high missing entirely. It might have been his imagination, but he could almost make out the center one smirking in the dim pale-blue light.

"Shit."

The fireball exploded harmlessly above the intended target with a thunderous boom, briefly illuminating the smirking Falmer bowmen with an ominous orange aura. Craak's mind raced in an attempt to remember a warding spell as the cocky creature trained it's crude bow on him. Craak winced expecting to be skewered at any moment.

But that moment never came:

A stalactite dislodged by the blast smashed into the murderous Falmer reducing it to pulp before it could loose its arrow.

Craak-Boom blinked, dumbstruck. There was an awkward moment of silence before the remaining two Falmer started shrieking as the rest ceiling started to collapse.

What was that Nordic phrase? Out of the frying pan and into the cauldron? he asked himself as he sprinted for safety.

Large boulders crashed uncomfortably close around him spraying icy water in all directions. It was hard to see where he was going in all of the chaos, but just ahead of him he could make out a dimly illuminated passage. Figuring it was his only hope, Craak b-lined for it, stumbling and splashing the entire way.

Craak flung himself through the threshold just in time to narrowly avoid being crushed to death as the passage behind him collapsed. Craak-Boom chest rose and fell rapidly as he attempted to calm his nerves.

Probably should avoid using that spell from now on...

Craak-Boom picked himself off the ground, running his scaly hand through his feathery crest as he observed the now blocked off passage.

"No going back now." he groaned, casting another light above his head illuminating the new room with bluish arcane light.

Unlike the previous "room" this one looked almost man-made, or perhaps Falmer-made. There were pillars of rocks in regular intervals that supported the ceiling, and rectangular cut-outs in the walls the purpose of which escaped Craak-Boom.

Perhaps for sleeping, or storage? Craak-Boom stroked his chin inquisitively.

Are the Falmer capable of mining and construction, being blind as they are? It certainly doesn't resemble any work that I'm familiar with.

Shaking his head Craak-Boom decided he should press on before he met any other nasty surprises.

*Snap*

Craak froze mid-step as a chitinous spike plunged inches away from his unmentionables. Gulping Craak-Boom waited patiently while the the spike trap slowly receded into its original hiding place.

Well, they're capable of creating tripwires! he laughed breathlessly to himself as he daintily stepped over the trap that nearly neutered him.

"Hello!?" a raspy masculine voice asked desperately.

Craak-Boom jumped, almost falling backwards onto the spike. The voice called again:

"Is someone there? I'm trapped!"

"Ah, yes!" He stuttered, trying to regain his composure. He scanned the room with his eyes, realizing he couldn't find the origin of the disembodied voice.

"Um, where are you?"

"Down here!" The voice called back.

Craak-Boom took a few tentative steps forward, his light illuminating a metallic grate in the floor below which held, as fate would have it a fellow Argonian.