*Sorry for the long break, but between school and recently diagnosed depression I've had my hands a little full. This may the last chapter update on Hero Material until December when, one way or the other, all school concerns will be done. Remember reviews are welcome so long as they are constructive and/or polite. Enjoy!
Chapter 2: Rats in the Walls
Down the darkened stairs she ran, giddy with the prospect of freedom, only to nearly crash into the broad back of the Redguard. He turned to face her, glaring, unamused by her antics. Her sheepish smile only intensified his glare.
"Keep quiet and stay out of the way prisoner," the Redguard commanded. Hmph, she thought, aiming a glare of her own at the man's turned back. She started to cross her arms in anger but stopped, wincing as one of the manacles pinched her wrist. First thing I'm going to do, she promised herself, is get these damn manacles off and sell them for scrap metal!
The group traveled down the corridor, quiet but for the clink of armor and tense with apprehension. Curious, the young prisoner placed her hands on the wall as she walked, feeling the stonework beneath her hands. Something seemed strange to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. The stonework was old, but it felt solid so that wasn't it. The group marched forward, coming to a well-lit area with two staircases separated by a wall. In the steady light she could see a kind of grated door beyond the steps.
She stopped in her tracks, head jerking up to stare at the lights. Her breathing quickened in sudden fear as all her observations finally clicked together in her head. Man-made stone walls meant that this escape route had been added later, eliminating the possibility of Ayleid lighting. The original passage had been dark, only becoming light when they entered the stone corridor. So where, she thought, her stomach twisting with growing horror, had these lights come from?
"Your Majesty!" she screamed, bolting forward, "Don't! It's a trap!" She lunged forward, grabbing the Emperor's arm and using her forward momentum to shove him behind her.
Even as she screamed, three armored warriors in red cloaks and cowls dropped from the eaves, each brandishing a weapon glowing with the telltale red aura of Daedric energy. The Blades spun to face them, katanas raised, and charged forward to meet them in a ringing of steel on steel. Keeping the Emperor behind her, she crouched into a fighting stance raising the only weapon to her, her own bare fists. Her eyes darted left and right, taking in the battle raging before her. The Breton captain and the Imperial were on the left staircase taking on two assassins armed with Daedric longswords. On the right stair the Redguard was fending off an assassin armed with a wicked-looking Daedric mace. The metal of the mace gleamed with a tell-tale red glow.
"Shit!" she cursed under her breath, eyeing the mace. "The damn thing is enchanted!" She turned her head, looking into the Emperor's eyes. He seemed to understand her meaning, drawing a silver shortsword from his belt and nodding in the Redguard's direction. Let's hope this works, she thought, praying to Aedra, Daedra, and ancestors that they were far enough below the prison for this to work.
She lunged forward, racing ahead even as the furious hammering of mace blows forced the Redguard to one knee. The magicka within hummed and crackled to life in her palm, a Flare spell which she then lobbed at the lone assassin. It hit the cloaked figure right between the eyes, blinding him and causing him to drop the mace as he howled in pain. The Redguard recovered almost immediately, bringing his katana up to slice at the assassin's torso. From the other side of the staircase came a high-pitched cry followed by a soft thump rendered almost inaudible by the sounds of battle.
"Captain's down!" yelled the Imperial, his voice swiftly silenced by the renewed ringing of steel on steel. She ran back up the stairs to the Emperor, another Flare readied. His sword, unbloodied, was still out and at the ready but his stance was no longer defensive. He took a moment to sheathe his sword and looked at her, a slight furrow in his brow.
"You are unhurt?" he asked gently. She nodded. "And Baurus, is he alright?"
"Baurus, sire?" she asked, allowing the magicka crackling in her grasp to slowly fade.
"The Blade you rushed to aid, his name is Baurus."
The sound of heavy footsteps behind her cut her answer short. The Redguard, Baurus she reminded herself, was making his way up the right staircase, flicking droplets of the assassin's blood off his katana as he did so. He gave a curt nod in her direction before directing his attention towards the Emperor.
"Sire, are you alright?" he asked, a touch of anxiety clouding his normal scowl.
"I am well Baurus, if shaken slightly," he replied, "Glenroy? Captain Renault?" The Imperial Man trudged up the left staircase, breathing heavily and favoring his left side.
"I'm here sire," he said, stopping to catch his breath, "but the Captain…" he bowed his head. Baurus nodded and with a grave expression turned again to his Emperor.
"She's dead. I am sorry sire, but we have to keep moving." The Emperor nodded slowly. How many people does that make, she thought, who have died around him tonight? She leaned forward, allowing her shoulder length hair to fall in front of her face. For this moment at least, she reflected, I would not trade destinies with that man for all the wealth in Tamriel. Shaking herself out of her reverie, she glanced at Baurus, who seemed to be in charge now that the Breton captain had fallen. Baurus started down the stairs flanked by Glenroy, the Imperial Blade.
"How could they be waiting for us here?" Glenroy grumbled in a low voice to Baurus.
"Do you think that perhaps…" He looked over his shoulder for a moment, eyes narrowing as they met hers. Shock crossed her features before settling into a glare of equal strength. He suspects me! Her back stiffened in outrage as she walked. What, just because I happened to be in jail I'm automatically guilty of treason? That's gratitude for you. She was gratified to see Baurus shake his head slightly.
"Don't know," Baurus replied, not bothering to look behind him at the still fuming Breton girl. "But it's too late to go back now." They had reached a door surrounded by wire grate, which they immediately unlocked.
"Don't worry sire," Baurus said as he lifted the latch on the grated door, "we will get you out of here." Glenroy smiled and saluted.
"They won't be the first to underestimate the Blades!" he swore triumphantly. Turning to Baurus he said, "I'll take point." With that he unsheathed his katana and headed through the door. The Emperor nodded to Baurus and, with a final piercing blue glance at her, made his way through the door after his bodyguard. She moved to follow but was stopped by Baurus's mail-clad arm. Confused and a little wary, she looked up at him. His face had become an unreadable mask of stone.
"You stay here, prisoner,"' he commanded, "Don't try to follow us."
It took her a few seconds to process this. "But why?" she questioned, sure she had heard him wrong. He's not really going to just leave me here, is he? He wouldn't!
"I am his Blade, his loyal bodyguard. It is my job to keep the Emperor safe even at the cost of my own life, … or at the cost of yours," he said, turning to make his way through the door. That's it? She jumped at the grate, panic setting in. I can't be left behind here!
"You realize that by leaving me here you're condemning me to death, right?" she pleaded through the bars. I have to stay with the Emperor! He is the start of my story! What kind of story will it be if I don't know how it starts? Baurus locked the grated door and turned to the wooden one behind it. Desperate, she threw out on final parting shot.
"Do you really want to stand before the Nine one day and explain leaving a little Breton girl to die?" That was a cheap shot, she knew, but he isn't really leaving me with many options here! He paused then and turned around slightly, just displaying his profile, the expression on his face pained but set.
"For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry for this." And with that he closed the door. A small click sounded as he locked the door behind him. She was alone.
A whole minute passed as she stared at the locked door, panic and shock warping into anger. She stood there, fists clenched at her sides, working up a good head of steam over her current situation. That will teach me to do someone a favor, she mentally berated herself, try to help a guy out and save his ass from death ala enchanted mace and what does it get me? Locked in a stone corridor, no food or way out, with more assassins probably on the way to kill me. What sort of story is that? She threaded her hands through her hair and pulled, a frustrated groan escaping her as she did. A sucky one! That's the kind of story you get! Her hands unthreaded from her hair only to be clenched into fists, now flailing about her in a fit of anger venting. She finished the fit with an ill-timed kick to the wall in front of her.
"Shit!" she yelled as pain exploded up her foot. She grasped her foot with both hands trying to massage it while balanced on one foot. As she did so, the sound of shifting stone reached her ears, forcing her to pause. A part of the wall in front of her crumbled and fell in. Through the hole appeared two rats, their squeaks becoming screeches as they spotted her and charged forward in leaping hops.
Acting on instinct, she kicked out with her injured foot, catching one of the rats mid-leap and sending it crashing into the other. Knowing they wouldn't stay down long, she limped to the far staircase in an effort to put some distance between herself and the giant rats. She tried to step quickly but carefully trying to avoid stepping on the three bodies that now occupied the stairway. Her uninjured foot hit something on the way up that clinked. Looking down, she saw the hilt of Captain Renault's katana, dropped when its owner had fallen. Forgive me Captain Renault, she prayed silently, but I need it a lot more than you do. She turned towards the bottom of the stairwell, the chittering screeches coming closer and closer.
The beasts rounded the corner and jumped, baring their needle-sharp teeth to bite. Can't let them bite me! She swung the katana like a bat with both hands, the extra strength allowing her to cut deep into the side of one the rats, sending it crashing into the wall. The other rat avoided the blow and sailed past her, its feet scrabbling for purchase on the stone as it wheeled to face her again. Pivoting on her good foot, she brought the katana down in a chopping motion through the rat's head. She turned back to the other rat only now picking itself up from the stunning blow it had received. A quick stab finished it, leaving her standing in the midst of five dead bodies.
Her breath came to her in short bursts, her chest heaving as the adrenaline burst faded and gave way to a slightly numb sense of accomplishment. The blood glimmered in the light, proof positive that she had fought the creatures and triumphed. A sort of giddiness filled her, a feeling that faded as her foot met the solid weight of a dead body on the stair.
Thoroughly sobered, she surveyed the room once more. What would Father do? He would … check for more enemies! Shestepped carefully around the bodies and made her way to the new hole in the wall. The hole didn't allow her to see the entirety of the other room, but she saw no movement and there was a reassuring lack of noise on the other side. Alright, no more enemies at the moment, she thought, what comes next? I should see if the other room has an exit. But, what if it does and I get overrun? Her gaze came to rest on the bodies of the assassins, sprawled at the bottom of the stairs. She breathed deep, steeling herself.
She started with the lone corpse near the hole. A quick rifling through the man's pockets turned up two potions, weak healing potions that went straight into her pocket, and a small pouch. The pouch held a small quantity of gold septims, maybe enough for a night at an inn or a good meal. She examined one of the coins, fluttering it over her knuckles and watching it glitter in the light. On one side shone the Imperial Dragon Seal but the other was stamped with a face that she assumed to be a much younger Uriel Septim. He did say there would be blood and death before the end, she thought, glancing around at the fallen bodies around her, and this is only the beginning. A squeamish stomach won't help at all. She flipped the septim into the air, catching it one-handed and returning it to the pouch. Moving to the other staircase, she leaned over one of the assassin's bodies before recoiling from the foul odor. The stories always forget to mention this, she thought, choking back her gag reflex, the unholy stench of dead men shitting themselves one last time! A quick check of the assassin's pockets turned up another potion and a few more gold septims. She briefly considered nabbing the other assassin's cloak and cowl, fingering the cloth for weight and stitch before giving up the idea as foolish. The cloak might offer more warmth and protection than her sackcloth but it wasn't worth being mistaken for one of the assassins and dying. One more to go. She steeled herself and turned to face the body of Captain Renault.
Renault's face had turned pale and slack but her eyes were still open, staring unfocused at the ceiling. Forgive me, Captain, she whispered silently to the aether, but I need your things more than you do right now. The captain had a little gold, enough perhaps to hire a horse, and a very fine steel shortsword. She hefted the blade with one hand, testing its balance and weight. It was good steel, with the interlocking triangles of High Rock visible at the base of the blade. She set the sword down and took a moment to relieve the captain of her sword belt. Strapping it on and cinching it tight, she sheathed both blades in their respective sheaths. The armor the captain wore was tempting but she decided to leave it, feeling it would be rude and disrespectful to leave such a noble warrior naked in death. Besides, the Divines tended to frown on such behavior and she needed all the help she could get right now.
Having gathered all she could from the room, she moved to peer into the hole in the wall. Stepping through the gap and into the unknown room, she blinked rapidly for a few moments to give her eyes a chance to adjust to the semi-dark gloom. She summoned a flare spell to hand and tried to get a better look at the room. Hearing a sudden squeak, she tossed her spell in the sound's direction. The loosed spell struck a rat, nailing it on the backside and filling the room with the distinct odor of burning hair. She fanned her hand in front of her face, trying desperately to dispel the smell of cooked rat. As she fanned her eyes scanned the room, coming to rest on a small puddle of light in a corner of the room.
A small skeleton reclined in the light, one arm curled around a small chest. Judging by the size and shape of the bones, the skeleton had either been a short man or a tall Bosmer. The bones were covered in a rough leather cuirass and boots, worn but still much more serviceable than what she had on right now. Taking a breath to steady herself, she divested the skeleton of its armor. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as stripping a dead body, but she couldn't help muttering a short apology to the collection of bones as she worked. The cuirass was somewhat long and loose on her but the boots remarkably, fit rather well. Yep, definitely a tall Bosmer, she thought, eyeing the bow and arrows next to the body.
She picked up the bow, examining it. Archery had never been her strong suit. She much preferred a long-range spell since it had a better chance of striking her target even if her aim was poor. Still, she mused, weighing the bow in her hands, maybe starting this destiny thing gives me the skills I need to achieve it. That happens all the time in epic stories, right? Nocking an arrow, she took her best heroic archer pose and looked for a target. Spotting a dry well, she aimed for its bucket and let her arrow fly. The arrow shot through the air, past the basket, hit the far wall, and rebounded off somewhere to the left. She sighed, lowering the bow. Why did I think that would work? I'm not that lucky. Oh well, she thought looking around, at least no one saw me make an idiot out of myself. She dropped the bow by the skeleton and went to see where her erstwhile arrow had landed.
The arrow lay in front of a rough-hewn wooden door, in front of which lay another dead body. This one, judging by the skin and horns, was a goblin. This did not bode well for what lay beyond the door. The goblins pockets turned up a few lockpicks and an iron key. She made her way back to the skeleton's chest and tried the lock. Sealed up tight. She grinned and pressed her ear close to the lock. But Father always said what I lacked in strength I made up for with guile. She used one of her new lockpicks to test the tumblers, waiting for the distinctive click that signaled victory over the lock. In less than a minute the chest was open. Inside lay a small sack of gold and a sapphire. Hardly worth dying over was it? She turned to head back to the door, pausing as her foot kicked something buried in the dirt. A quick dust-off revealed a rough leather shield, the same material as her newly acquired cuirass and boots. She slipped the shield onto her arm, taking a moment to look at herself.
Well, I'm alone, stuck in the catacombs of a prison without food or any help to speak of, but at least I'm armed and somewhat armored. She moved towards the door, stepping over the body of the dead goblin to examine the lock. She tried the iron key in the lock and was pleased to hear the gears crunch and groan as the door unlocked. Only one way to go now, she gulped, staring down the long gloomy hallway. Forward!