"What? Who is this, Brother? Another of the smooth skins looking for food?" Hissed the Khajiit, ears plastered flat against his head. My eyes snapped up to him, and he glared at us with burning, feverish eyes. "But these two weren't trapped with us..."
"Smooth skins?" I repeated incredulously. That was an insult that Argonians usually bandied about when insulting humans. How badly was this cat hallucinating? "Uh, no. We come from outside…" I started, but the Khajiit cut me off.
"Outside? Outside?!" he screamed, his pupils blown wide, and his whiskers jittering in frenzied agitation. "You were not with us! So that means you must be the one who took my skooma! Give it back!"
He tried to launch himself at us, only to collapse to the floor as Serana's paralysis spell turned his body into a useless lump of flesh. His eyes still blazed with rage as muffled screams were choked behind his locked muzzle.
We bound him with rope and then stepped back to take stock. There was a healing potion laying next to one of the crates. I picked it up and met Serana's eyes meaningfully.
Slowly she nodded. We both knew that the potion would relieve the cat's symptoms and clean his body of the skooma's taint. We also knew that he was so deep in withdrawal that he wanted nothing but skooma. He would not drink a healing potion willingly, and forcing it into his mouth would be messy and difficult. Serana rummaged in a crate, making a soft "Aha," of triumph. A second later, I heard the soft pomph of the bottle being uncorked.
I distracted our captive by simple means of hauling the Khajiit bodily upright and leaning him back against one of the crates.
"Smoothskin!" he hissed as the paralysis wore off, "Sand swimmer! Thief! Thief! Vicious thief! I want my skooma back! Brother! Why do you just lie there? Rise and take them!"
I glanced at the body sadly. A black arrow was protruding from his chest; clearly the cause of his death. He would not be rising to fight ever again.
"You want your skooma?" Serana said, straightening and holding up several small purple bottles. I realized what she must have done and nodded my approval before moving aside to give her room.
"My skooma!" he screeched, and I winced at his volume. "Give it! Give it to J'darr! You can't have it! It belongs to this one!"
"You want it? Well, here it is!" She gave the bottle a tiny shake, "But you need to be a good little kitty if you want it."
The cat froze, eyes fastened on the bottle desperately, "Be… good?"
"Yes," Serana approached him slowly, "You can have it. I will give it to you. But no biting. No clawing. I offer it, and you drink it. Understand?"
J'darr gave a piteous little mewing sound, his dilated eyes never leaving the purple-tinted bottles cradled in the vampire's hands. "J'darr will be good. Please. Please just give it to this one."
"Bottom's up," she knelt next to him and poured the first small dose into the cat's mouth.
He gulped it desperately, licking his lips to catch it all.
"Next up," Serana poured that into him as well, and he again gulped it with gusto.
She was on her third out of five bottles when J'darr groaned, and his pupils began to contract. "What… this is not skooma. There is no sweetness to it. What are you feeding this one?"
"Something that will help you. Drink up." The Khajiit swallowed that too, with a bit less enthusiasm.
As the fifth small bottle fell into the snow, I could see the effects of the healing potion taking hold. His ragged breathing began to ease, and the feverish haze of his eyes faded to a tired clarity.
"Ugh," he groaned. "By Ban Daar's trickery… this one feels like he has been awake for days."
"It's possible you have been," I agreed. "You were suffering from withdrawal, and hallucinating pretty badly. I have no idea why your brother didn't give you a potion to clean you up earlier but… well, you should be clean now."
"This one's brother… Yes, we were working with an excavation team and..." His gaze lit on the body of his brother and I stiffened, wary of his reaction. But his next words were soft spoken and sorrowful, "Oh brother… I see the eyeless ones have gotten you…"
"Eyeless ones?" I queried.
"Yes. This one saw the walls melting and the cabbages dancing to a tune that this one had never heard before. But this one could also have sworn that eyeless creatures were lurking around corners. They were shaped like an elf, but their skin was deathly pale, and they had no eyes."
I was half a breath from dismissing them as hallucinations, but Serana gasped, "That sounds like a Falmer. Were they hunched over, and lanky?"
"Yes."
Serana looked at me, "We've got trouble." She turned back to the Khajiit, "If I let you go, will you be in control?"
"J'darr will be under control, and helpful," he promised. "Kindly vampire lady has cleared J'darr's thoughts like a sweet summer night in the sands of Elsweyr. And he owes the both of you for your help."
As she began to untie the ropes around his wrists, I asked, "Serana, what's a... Falmer?" At her somewhat disbelieving stare, I held up my hands. "I'm from Hammerfell, remember? We don't have them where I come from."
She nodded and went to untie his legs next, "Snow elves. Or… what's left of them. They went to war with the ancestors of the Nords and lost. They fled underground to the Dwemer, seeking shelter. From what I've been able to parse out, the Dwemer weren't the nicest of races, even to their fellow elf cousins. The snow elves were enslaved, and force-fed some very nasty stuff, which twisted them into what they are today. When the Dwemer did their sudden disappearing act, they left the Falmer to take over underground. We don't see them on the surface much, except when they stage raids. But there are many cave systems that support swarms of them."
"Terrific," I muttered wearily. "Well, that explains all the blood. I don't think we're going to find too many members of the expedition in good health."
Once free, J'darr knelt by his brother's body, bowing his head. "This one is so sorry, brother. Sorry he let himself become ensnared by the poison. Sorry he could not help you against the Falmer. But this one promises you: he will never touch skooma again."
After some discussion, we agreed that Serana would take point, with J'darr taking up the rear. With twisted beings lurking in the dark, I agreed that the two people with excellent night vision should be doing what they did best.
The path continued past other supply caches; plenty of tools, but very little food. We managed to scrounge up a few wrinkled apples, and a piece of dried beef that I gave to our Khajiit companion. He devoured them all, and I had to stifle a giggle as a purr of contentment rolled out of him at having a full stomach.
J'darr soon confirmed that the storm had lasted for weeks and that things had been taking a downhill turn around him in more than one way. Eventually, we went through a doorway to find a table with scrap metal, and a dismantled spider on it. On the edge, almost hidden by the shadows, was another journal; this time with Umana's name on it.
I read the journal out loud to the others.
.
It's been about a week since Valie went missing and now Endrast is gone too. We found blood leading over to the barred-off doorway, but Sulla seems to think that they found a way through. He grows more paranoid and obsessed by the day, believing that they are trying to cut him out of the discovery. He's completely disregarding the fact that they have been hurt or killed by something in these ruins.
He keeps ranting about theft; something about his pack going missing along with our companions. I don't understand how his pack going missing is of any importance. He only had a few septims, a single healing potion, his helmet, and a torch inside. While his helmet is useful in a practical respect, the things that were taken hold far less value to me than, say, our rapidly dwindling stores of food.
But Sulla says that the theft is proof, somehow, that our missing team members are trying to beat us to whatever discoveries he's expecting to find in this place. He keeps saying that we need to press on… that we have to catch up to them.
We've broken through into another section of the ruins, an "Animonculory," where the dwarves would produce their automatons.
We learned the hard way that the metal creatures are still alive in there and it hasn't improved Yag's mood at all. She insists that the Khajiit brothers aren't involved with the disappearances and has been keeping a hard eye on Sulla. I can't help but find myself agreeing, if silently.
The rations have all but run out and we are going to have to decide soon whether to brave the storm or try to push further into the ruins.
This place feels like a death trap, and I fear Sulla is going to lead us directly into its jaws. To be honest, I don't know if the echoes of screams I've heard in my sleep are those of our missing comrades, or my own nightmares.
.
J'darr nodded sadly, "Our group deteriorated as our rations did. We've been trapped in a storm that seemed to engulf the world. That you came in is the first sign this one has had that the outside world even still exists." His long whiskers drooped then, and his voice grew bitter. "Sulla and the remaining group members left us behind one day, and did not return. This one can only guess that the Falmer came for his brother while this one searched in vain for more skooma in the night."
The timeline of events matched up with the time I had spent rescuing Serana and then recruiting Sorine and Gunnar. I had fancied myself sympathetic to the people trapped in the storm, from a safe distance. Even then, I had only been thinking of those who could bunker down in a city: where there was shelter, supplies, and neighbors who could step in to help if things went awry. The true horror of the storm had descended on those who were far from safety, suffering and dying, far from any chance at hope or rescue. These people had been in dire straits, made worse by a leader who cared nothing for those who looked to him. He saw nothing but the glory he believed he would have if only he could reach his goals.
"Come on," I finally said, my voice tight, "Let's see if there's anyone else who can be saved from this disaster."
We followed the path back to the intersection, and around a corner. It led to a large room with a table holding several random Dwemer items. J'darr proved his worth by bringing us to a stop.
"See those rainbow colors?" He pointed to where the ground had some sort of liquid spilled on it. "That is a flammable oil you can often find in Dwemer ruins. It is harmless enough to walk through, provided you do not drop your torch into it."
"I see more hatches," Serana added, and I spotted them within seconds. There was one on either side of the room, large enough for a person to crawl through on their hands and knees.
"Ambush point," I murmured. "How much do you want to bet that if someone were to stroll into the room, they'd find themselves in a whole heap of trouble?"
"No bet," my two companions chorused.
"Right…" I searched around and soon came up with a fist-sized rock from some of the debris that seemed to have piled on the edges of the tunnel. "If anyone has ranged weapons, get ready."
"J'darr has only a wood-cutting axe," the cat apologized.
I sighed and drew my bow, "Do you know how to use it?"
"Oh yes! J'darr was an expert marksman when he was a cub. He hunted long-tailed tree rats in the jungles of his home." He accepted the bow, inspected it with the air of one who definitely knows what he is doing, and soon stood at the ready. Serana primed a shock spell in one hand, and a flame spell in the other, then nodded to me.
This left me the odd one out, armed only with Dawnbreaker. I gripped the rock, took a deep breath, and threw it into the room.
The stone hit the floor with a noisy clatter, skittered for several feet, and bounced off the base of the stone table. With two loud bangs, the hatches burst open, and a pair of round spheres were ejected. The things weren't that imposing at first, only just tall enough to reach mid-thigh at the most. Then with a hiss of steam, the things… unfolded. Now there were two towering, humanoid shapes made out of bronze and wielding spear-like projections for arms. Their heads turned this way and that, almost like a living being trying to identify what had roused their attention.
Serana took aim and unleashed a fireball straight into the oil. With a loud whoosh, yellow and blue flames roared to life.
If they had been made of flesh and blood, I would have been horrified by the way the flames surged about them. But they were automatons. They could not feel pain. They were incapable of suffering. They made no sounds of distress, even as the fire raged, blackening their gleaming bodies.
The fire didn't seem to be enough to 'kill' them, though they seemed to have trouble tracking anything through the constantly moving flames.
J'darr fired an arrow, which punched a hole in one automaton's torso.
With a high-pitched whistle, steam blasted through the hole, dampening the flames a bit. It started to list to the side, struggling to remain mobile; J'darr had scored a critical hit. The two machines turned toward us, somehow discerning where the attack had come from.
It was still too hot for me to charge in, so I stood off to the side, waiting for an opportunity.
Serana blasted the other with flame and shock magic as the fires began to die. It tracked her and lunged, thrusting a spear arm toward the vampire's torso. Serana dodged and blasted its arm with a powerful bolt of shock magic.
Choosing that one as my focus, I lashed out with Dawnbreaker. Sparks flew as my weapon managed to tear a line through its torso, though the damage seemed more cosmetic than serious.
I sprang back as it swung sideways at me, and it received another blast of Serana's magic.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the damaged automaton lurch toward us, only to crash to the floor with a final wheeze. The whirring and clicking noises within it slowed and then stopped.
I spun almost a complete circle, and my blade impacted the automaton's right support strut at the hinge; what would have been a knee had it been flesh and blood. Sparks flew as the blade almost sheared clean through the metal. The automaton was made of sturdy stuff, to partially withstand a blow like that. I scrambled backward as it sideswiped at me, overbalanced, and crashed to the floor with a deafening bang.
Serana gave it a final blast with shock magic to temporarily disable it. Then J'darr took careful aim and punched another arrow through the automaton's torso. Steam erupted, and the machine went still and silent.
"Lasirah, are you all right?" Serana asked as we let out our breaths in relief.
I gave her a weary thumbs up. "Yeah, I'm good. You two?"
"J'darr is unhurt. Tired, but still going strong," the Khajiit reassured me.
"I'm okay, though I'm going to need some time to let my Magicka replenish," Serana allowed.
We explored cautiously, finding three pistons that thrust vertically toward the ceiling, coming level to a ledge above our line of sight. After a quick game of Stone, Scroll, and Shears, J'darr rode a piston up and returned with a few potions. I tucked the health potions into my bag for safekeeping. Serana accepted a Magicka potion with relief and promptly downed it.
Eventually, we came to a pair of heavy doors, identified by a plaque on the wall, leading to the Animonculory. A few more spiders were dispatched, and our explorations brought us to a bedroom, complete with stone beds. Forgoing the shin-high blocks of granite, we set up our sleep rolls, ate a few rations, and prepared for the night. The three of us took turns sleeping; J'darr crashed first, and hard, with Serana a close second.
The night remained fairly quiet, with the occasional sounds of movement beyond the closed doors. I didn't have the motivation to investigate. Since our presence didn't seem to have attracted attention yet, why should I poke that particularly grumpy bear?
When I woke up from my sleep shift, it was to a blearily blinking Khajiit, and a vampire who looked rather rosy-cheeked for someone who supposedly hadn't fed in a day or so.
Then I remembered the sounds of movement beyond the room, and decided not to ask. Since nobody seemed to be pounding on our door, she had been stealthy in her hunting.
"I let J'darr sleep the night through," Serana told me over breakfast. "I think he needed the recuperation time after his skooma withdrawal."
I nodded. He had held his own yesterday, but I had known that he needed sleep more than he had let on. Though he was eating slowly and blinking at the plate in his hands, he looked as though a full night of sleep had done him a world of wonders.
By the time we packed our things and prepared to continue our trek, J'darr had perked up. The Khajiit cautiously opened the door to the room and thrust his head outside, sniffing, ears swiveling, and whiskers twitching.
Definitely more alert. At his gesture, we headed out into the citadel once more.