Drip. Drip. Drip.
The sounds of Riften's Ratway tunnels echoed all around the expansive network of tunnels. Dark brick slicked with the moisture of the water, dirtied broken cobblestone paths that looked more and more in disrepair as you went further and further in. Distant echoes of people of all sorts of life: the people who didn't have enough money to live above ground, ones who deal in more shiftier business venues, drug addicts who snorted skooma powder or drank that hyper addictive liquid substance version itself or ones who simply are hiding away from authorities, there was never not an assemblance of voices in the ratway.
The clinking of tankards being heard outside the entry door into the Ratway as a robed figure entered the tunnels. His robe was alien and eye-catching to the onlookers in the sewerage although no one would dare bat an eye or shift a glance towards the individual's direction. Silence arose quickly as the audible sounds of footsteps were heard. The mysterious person slowly churned his head around the room to see a few tables with seated gamblers and whores refilling tankards with a bar off to the corner that was accompanied by a breton bartender. He had long red hair and a scruffy beard as he eyed the person before saying,
"Oi. Whatta be brin' ya into our lil slice of paradise."
The robed figure seemingly wore a mask made of pure dwarven metal that was in the resemblance of a Dwarven Centurion but not completely a helmet of sorts. His Robe had dwemer inscriptions and make as they slowly walked themselves closer and closer to the bar. Their hood obscured any frolics of hair or such as a muffle, deep gravelly voice said, "I am looking for a man known as Frenock. Do you know him?"
The breton eyed him up and down once more as he seemingly had a calm and neutral expression plastered on his face as he said, tone not betraying his current expression, "Hmm… And whatta yer be wantin' em fer if I did know of a laddy named Frenock, hm?"
The soulless eyes of the masked man peered into his soul as the breton's calm demeanor was slowly starting to falter as the robed man simply stayed quiet and stared. After a few minutes or so, he would relent, "F-Fine. Fine. Ya be findin' 'im somewhere bout the lower sections of the ratway. N-Now p-please." gulping slightly, "Just stop be starin' at me like that…"
The man simply looked at him longer before nodding to him and turning around to walk to a door off in the corner of the makeshift bar. He would methodically lift his gloved hand to grab hold of the door's handle as he pulled it open which revealed the same moisture slicked brick walls and disrepaired cobble pathways ahead that formed in a hallway. Also in this hallway would be multiple doors that had muffled moans of debauchery and ecstacy. A lone redguard woman at the end of the hallway in tavern clothing, which was very revealing, would saunter up to him. She had long brown hair and brown eyes with a buxom figure that was curvy and formed nicely to the revealing aspect of the clothes. She would say, in a rather seductive tone, "Hey suga, You look like you'll be needin' a lil company'. You seem… so…" running a slender figure across his robe and stopping just before his groin, "Lonely…"
A hand slowly reached out to grab her finger and take it off him as he coldly responded, "I do not wish to partake in your debauchery, wench." brushing his hand off on his pants, "Do you know where to find Frenock. He's a nord, about as tall as a noble's doorway and slimier than the walls that cover these deplorable walls."
Taking the hint, she'd hold that same hand to her side as it withdrew a cigarette. She put the butt on her lips as she said, "Ya look like the mage type, mind if you help a wench out first?" smiling, "Do that and I'll see about that information."
He sighed underneath the mask as he summoned up a simple flame spell in his right hand and gingerly held it up to the cigarette filled with peace weed. It lit rather quickly as she breathed in the narcotic and exhaled with a big puff of smoke as she smiled back and said, "Thanks Suga," taking the cigarette out of her mouth, "Ya can be findin' Frenock in the market district of the Ratways." pointing down the hall to their left which revealed more cobble and brick, "Go down here, take a left into Blackbriar's avenue and then go right into Vekel's Lane. It'll lead into an expansive area known as the Thieves' Bazaar. Ya can't miss it."
He bowed slightly to her as a way to thank her before taking the directions that were given to him. Blackbriar's Avenue and Vekel's Lane were quite well traveled tunnels of the ratway as small alcoves of shops, homes and all sorts of odd and ends were strewn about the tunnels. Many people tried to gain the mysterious man's attention but to no avail as he methodically made his ways down the path.
It only took the man a few minutes or so before he reached the end of Vekel's Lane as it opened up quickly into a ginormous area. Multiple buildings that ranged from small and skinny to big and grand were mushed together to form an array of buildings in pockets of space in the Bazaar that surrounded the shops. The glow of soft oranges and yellows could be seen from the windows. The ground floor was lined with cobblestone and dirt as multiple venues of all varieties were around. The stalls were wooden in nature or were being run in the accompanying buildings and had signs like "Maximilian's Miracle Cures," or "Greka's Easy Cheap Eats." The Bazaar also had a makeshift second floor that was held up by wooden beams, platforms and the walls of other buildings that held even more of an endless variety of shops. The man eyed for someone in a particular type of dark leather armor and found him after a few seconds of looking. He was leaning about 5 meters away against one of the many pillars that upheld the upper levels of the Bazaar's second floor. His armor was definitely standoffish from the rest of the rambles' dirtied clothing as theirs was ornate and clean. His long red hair and piercing green eyes were the same as the informant told him. The robed man made his way slowly to him and before he knew it, they had spotted him. He smiled a mischievous smile before saying, "Ey lad. I heard that you were coming." whistling, "The Dragon Prince himself. I didn't believe it when our… mutual… 'friend' told us you needed to see me." chuckling softly afterwards before continuing, "So what brings you to the Thieves' Bazaar."
The man simply inclined his head before raising it up slowly as he said, "Brynjolf. I am looking for the slave trader known as Frenock. I heard he is down here."
Brynjolf's demeanor changed rather quickly at the mention of Frenock's name. He slightly faltered in his smile as a more serious demeanor overtook it, "And what ya be needin' with that slimy bastard, eh?" clearly not holding back any disdain for the man. Brynjolf always was the more honorable thief of the bunch that was known to be the Riften's Thieves' Guild.
He stared with the soulless eyes of his dwemer-made mask as he coldly stated, "What my business with Frenock is none of your concern."
Brynjolf eyed the man inquisitively before relenting with a soft laugh to himself as he closed his eyes, "Fine, fine." opening them up again, "Frenock will be in the back of the Bazaar where the holding zone is." pointing to a direction in the east, "Just go that way and you'll find where that slimy prick is. Since you're the dragonborn, I can only hope your intentions with that prick are somewhat sincere."
"Thank you, Brynjolf. Hope to do more business with you." he replied neutrally as he walked his way in the direction that Brynjolf had pointed to.
A raven haired woman with the same black leathers as Brynjolf edged herself closer to Brynjolf casually as she offhandedly asked in a curious tone, "Was that the Dragon Prince?"
The ginger nord, not turning around to face them, simply kept looking forward as he replied back, "Yep. He was looking for Frenock."
The woman spat in disgust, "Frenock? That slaving bastard?" an eyebrow arching upwards, "What would he want with that slaver?"
He shrugged, "I don't know Sapphire but we have to trust the Guildmaster. He's the reason this Bazaar and the Riften Reconstruction Project took place."
The Riften Reconstruction process was an act that was passed in order to expand the Ratway into an expansive undercity for the city's poor and broke individuals so that they would have a place to stay. It took about 5 years for the project to be completed but ended up with the largest undercity that all of Tamriel had ever seen. Now all tracks of life find themselves in here to enjoy the world's more debaucherous vices of life.
The Dragon Prince wandered his way down the cluttered undercity's cobblestone pathways for about a half an hour before winding up next to a large warehouse that was built of wood and stone. The base lower foundation seems to be that of stones stacked neatly with the upper walls being that of decaying, mossy wood. The stones were slicked with the same moisture of the tunnels as the warehouse reigned about 2 stories tall and the size of a small manor. A guard stood posted outside the double doors that were intersected in between the front. He was an argonian man with purplish-gray scales and the frame of someone who has worked very hard on the physical aspect of their body. He met at his eye level but the Dragon Prince by all means wasn't a short individual, reigning in at 6 feet, 5 inches (195 cm).
He held up his hand as he got within 7 feet of the man, saying, "By order of the Jarl, No one is allowed access unless with a written invitation."
The Dragon Prince merely stared into his eyes with the soulless, blank eyes of the mask as he calmly said, "Either you move out of the way… Or you end up like everyone else here soon, Argonian." a hand slightly lifting to reveal a rather vicious looking thunderbolt in his hand.
The Argonian's scales started to pale slightly as the crackling in-between the robed man's fingers frightened him immediately as he stuttered, "O-O-Of course sir! I-I-IT seems everything is i-i-in o-or-order!"
The robed man grabbed his shoulder as he was preparing to run and said, "You think about screaming and running, you'll make sure you don't." getting closer to his ear, "You walk away calmly and act like nothing has happened… okay?"
The Argonian merely nodded as he walked away terrified but wasn't running or screaming, although his current facial features betrayed his movements definitely. Satisfied with his work, he pushed opened the doors to reveal a lit interior. It was a small hallway that led forward with 2 doors to his left and right. He heard some muffled voices coming from the door on his left so he pushed it open casually as the interior revealed a lit room with tables strewn about like a mess hall. There were two men currently engaged in conversation as one of the men, who was a dark elf, shouted, "Oi! Beera! They fina-" seeing it was not Beera, the Argonian but a complete stranger, he was instantly alarmed. Starting to reach for his sword he demanded, "Oi! How in the name of Mephala did you get in here, stranger!"
In the hand that didn't have a thunderbolt casted, a few geometrical, ethereal shapes appeared in his other hand as he snapped his fingers and a wave of green energy bursted from him silently. The other man, who was a dunmer as well, quickly stood up and summoned a spell in his hand as he shouted, "Yea! Ya better be explainin' yourself before we sentcha out Riften in a bodybag."
No words were said from the Dragon Prince as he summoned up another Thunderbolt spell in the other hand and said, "No." before he blasted a thunderbolt at both of the men, instantly disintegrating them. He merely walked over to the remaining ashes before surveying around the room for any more slavers. He saw several red outlines of men who were gathering their weapons to investigate the sudden crackle of loud thunder coming from below. He sighed before switching one of his thunderbolts to an orangish spell that had an ethereal gear floating in his head as he slammed it down on the ground as a Dwarven Sphere appeared. He looked at it when it fully materialized and said, "Green outlines are friendly, Red Ones are bad. Kill the red ones."
The animunculi seemingly understood its assignment as it raced off and out the doors as the man himself stalked after it, readying to cause absolute carnage.
Smoke, Ash and Decay
The three things that permeated in the smoky ruin of a warehouse left. Scorch marks where thunderbolts hit, furniture flipped over and tossed to the side, the little remains of ashes that are scattered from the disintegrated corpses and it was a wonder that the entire building hadn't erupted into flames at all but there was a reason for this.
He walked downstairs on some steps that led into a basement floor. The walls around him were covered in slick moisture as the creaking of old wood was heard with each step. Once reaching the final step, he was met with an elaborate iron door and attempted to open it: It was locked.
He cursed under his breath before reaching into his robe to pull out a small spider like contraption. It had 8 legs made of dwemer metal with a sharp, knife-like object poking out its body with a smaller pin-like thing on top of it. He held it up to the door and said, "Kremza." as the spider whirled to life, a red eye facing back to look at him, waiting.
He said, "Kremza. Juile zalaz eko fiez."
The dwarven made contraption seemingly understood his words before turning back to face the lock and inserted the two objects into the lock on the outside. It twisted and turned carefully as it was finding the sweet spot and before long, the lock made a satisfying click noise as the tiny animunculi whirred in its success. He gave the small spider a nod before pushing the doors open which revealed a large room filled with cages. Inside these cages was a bountiful amount of people in old, ragged looking rags as they all simultaneously looked at him in fear. He recognized the looks as they reminded him of something similar in his past.
"Just like the ancient days, hm?" he whispered to himself before speaking loudly, "Where is Frenock."
Silence filled the room quickly as he spoke as he reiterated, "Where. Is. Frenock. I am not here to hurt you."
In one of the cells next to him, a small wood elf female reluctantly shuffled her way forward. She had dirty, haggard skin and hair with soulless purple eyes, emaciated cheekbones and body and a few bruises lined her body to note.. She spoke softly, "U-U-Uh… F-Fr-Frenock i-is i-in the o-othe-other room o-over the-there… m-master…" eyes not looking up to the soulless eyes of the mask whilst pointing towards the back of the room.
Looking down at the spider contraption he made, he'd summon up a spell in his hands that was ethereal orange and in the image of a gear and bolt as he slammed the spell to the ground. The people and especially the wood elf girl, jumped back in muted fear as they cowered with their head in their hands. A Dwarven Ballista appeared in front of him as he said, "Watch the People in the cells." Summoning up the previous spell from the mess hall, a green wave would burst from him silently as he then added, "Green are friendly, Reds are enemies," looking around to see one red and green aura in the room in the back, "Kill the reds." As the Ballista seemingly whirred in response, which he gave a nod to.
He slowly made his ways towards the back room as he summoned up a spell in his hand that was akin to a fire spell. He heard some noises of a struggle as he used another spell to open both doors at once and what he saw sent shivers down his spine: A tall nordish man with dark brown hair that was tied into a ponytail with some green and brown clothes on. He was currently violating or starting to violate, a pale skinned woman with long white hair and crystal blue eyes. Her ragged clothes were currently torn asunder as her chest was displayed bare. Her body looked as emaciated as the others in the cells and tears were running down her face as the man known as Frenock was beginning to pull his "sword" out from his sheath. He would look back in surprise and say, "Oi! What in the daedra are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy!"
The pale woman's soulless blue eyes churned towards the man as her tears continued to flow. The Dragon Prince stared him down with those unfeeling, soulless eyes of his mask, responding to his question with, "Frenock. You have something that belongs to me." pointing at the pale woman.
He looked at her and laughed, "The snow elf? Nah, this took me bloody fucking years to capture. There aren't many of them you know?" buckling his breeches now as he picked up an ebony sword, "Now lad, I'll ask ya one more focking time! Who are ya!" twirling the sword around in his hands.
He stood there unmoving as he continued to stare back at him before summoning up two thunderbolt spells in his hands. Brushing off some dust on his robe, he'd indignantly answered, "The Dragon Prince of Skyrim."
