The next morning, Nervyna and Vesparth returned to Aphia's home. When they entered, they found the ex-priestess seated at her dining room table, surrounded by books and sheets of parchment. She was engrossed in the Velothi text, looking quickly between it and her reference books. Ink stained fingers gripped a quill as she scrawled upon a notepad, and a tray of breakfast food sat at her elbow, mostly untouched. The woman failed to notice her new company for several long seconds. Nervyna and Vesparth glanced at each other, before the mercenary finally coughed into a fist.

Aphia bolted upright, turned sharply toward the door. They could see several prominent ink smudges on her face. "Oh! I didn't hear you come in, I do apologize!"

"Don't worry about it." Nervyna came to look over the woman's cluttered workspace. "How's the work going?"

The ex-priestess smiled cheerfully. "It's been quite the endeavor so far, but I still have all my old reference texts and notes. I'll get this done as soon as I can, don't you worry." She wiped away a strand of hair from her face; her fingers left a black streak of ink across her forehead.

Nervyna frowned and cleared her throat. "Um. Aphia. You have something. On your forehead, Aphia. No, don't—"

Aphia attempted to scrub out the ink stains, succeeding only in smudging them further. "Did I get it?"

"Almost," Vesparth answered with a grin. "It's right— there, right there. Oh, and you got a crumb on your cheek too. Might want to…"

"Vesparth," Nervyna muttered warningly. Now Aphia's face was a pitiful mess of black ink streaks. The mercenary shot her unrepentant Armiger comrade a glare, earning a cheeky grin in reply, before turning her attention back to Aphia. "How soon will it be ready?"

"Maybe a day or two," admitted the woman. "I'd get it done quicker, but I have some errands to run. Hm, maybe I can have Crescius—"

A knock came at the door. Nervyna turned sharply toward it, wondering if they had been tailed. Vesparth gave her a look that said, Calm down you paranoid ass, before marching up to the door and flinging it open. "Yeah? What do you want?"

There was a courier standing at the doorway, clad in dust-worn clothes and hoisting a satchel full of letters at his hip. The man reached into his satchel and withdrew a sealed missive. "I have a letter here for one Aphia Velothi?"

"That'd be me!" called the priestess from the dining room. "Be a dear and bring it to me, please?"

The courier handed the letter off to Vesparth, who promptly shut the door to restore their privacy before delivering it to Aphia. She wiped the ink stains from her fingers against a napkin before unsealing the parchment. "Sorry, I've been expecting some important mail."

"Who from?" asked Vesparth, helping herself to some lukewarm tea from the nearby pot and swiping a cabbage biscuit from Aphia's half-eaten breakfast plate.

"Curate Melita. One of your fellows, Vesparth," answered Aphia, reading the letter. "She went in search of the Mask of Sotha Sil weeks ago with a small group of mercenaries, and she's been sending updates to Ashfall's Tear through me ever since."

Nervyna folded her arms across her chest and waited; if this curate had news of another mask, it was likely that she would be expected to bring the news to Matriarch Drevlan on top of delivering the Mask of Vivec. The woman's eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, and as her gaze scanned the contents, they began to climb up her forehead in surprise. The priestess shook her head. "Oh, this is no good."

The mercenary scowled. "What is it?"

"Looks like the curate ran into some trouble." Aphia met the mercenary's gaze with a grim set to her face. "She says she's found the Mask of Sotha Sil in a dwarven ruin back in mainland Skyrim, Kagrenzel. Now she's trapped there and is asking for help."

"Why didn't one of the mercenaries help her?" asked Vesparth around a mouthful of cabbage biscuit. She offered one to Nervyna; the warrior gave her companion an odd look. "What? Balmora cabbage biscuits are a delight. Alright, your loss."

Aphia shook her head as she re-read the letter. "Seems like the curate's mercenary helpers weren't a very bright lot. One of them managed to get this letter asking for help into the hands of a courier, and that seems to be about all they were able to do for her."

Nervyna responded dryly, "Sounds like top-rate mercs to me."

Aphia caught Nervyna's gaze with a grim smile. "I don't suppose I could convince you to go rescue Curate Melita? I'm sure the Matriarch would be glad to repay you for your troubles."

Nervyna grunted. "I'll have to ask around for directions, but I'll see what I can do." The mercenary turned a disapproving look upon Vesparth, who was pilfering a cookie from Aphia's plate. "And I assume you're duty-bound to follow me back to Skyrim for the Mask of Sotha Sil."

The Armiger grinned and bit into her cookie. "Yup! Guess you and I are gonna be spending a little more quality time together after all."

Gods give me patience, Nervyna thought to herself, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She turned her attention back to Aphia and resolved herself. "Alright. We'll report back to Matriarch Drevlan and then go rescue the curate. Keep working on that text."

"Will do, Deadeye. Your help is most appreciated!" Aphia smiled and wiped another strand of hair from her face. Her ink-stained fingers left yet another black streak across her visage.

"Uh huh." Nervyna tried not to stare at the ink marks. She abruptly turned and strode for the door. "Come on, Vesparth."

"Right behind you." Vesparth stuffed another cabbage biscuit into her pouch and followed in her wake. She suddenly stopped, picked up a hand mirror from a nearby dresser, and placed it within Aphia's reach. The Armiger flashed her a smile. "Wish us luck, sera!" she chirped, before hastily making for the door. Aphia, confused, picked up the hand mirror to look into it.

Nervyna winced when she heard Aphia's loud, dismayed groan. She turned just in time to see Vesparth shut the door behind her. When the Armiger noticed the mercenary's disapproving look, she just snickered. "Wish I could've seen the look on her face."

"Do you enjoy tormenting people?" muttered Nervyna, turning to march down the street.

"Tormenting?" Vesparth snorted and fell into step behind her. "All I do is remind people that life doesn't always have to be taken so seriously. Maybe washing off those ink stains will give Aphia an excuse to stop and take a breather. Maybe eat a proper breakfast, too."

Nervyna scoffed, shaking her head. "As you say, Vesparth."

"You could probably stand to learn that kind of lesson yourself, Nervy."

The warrior stopped. Slowly, she turned to level a deep scowl at her companion. "Nervy?"

"What? It's a nickname!" Vesparth grinned. "I think it's cute. That, or Vyna."

Nervyna huffed. She turned on her heel and continued her march, shooting over her shoulder: "You are not calling me Nervy!"

Vesparth jogged to keep up with her. "Alright. Vyna it is!"

Nervyna had not been back in mainland Skyrim ever since she had taken her detour into Solstheim, after having been ambushed by cultists of Miraak seeking to kill her. Now that she was back, two months after her first arrival, the woman was reminded once again of her oath of vengeance – and her destiny as Dragonborn. Her burn scars began to sting anew as she envisioned the face of the dark dragon who had caused them: the World-Eater, whom she was fated to battle for the survival of Mundus.

Alduin would have to wait a bit longer, however. Nervyna did not enjoy leaving unfinished business. But soon, she promised herself, soon she would return down the path of destiny. The World-Eater will have an unpleasant surprise awaiting him when he faces me.

She and Vesparth made landfall at the Windhelm docks before heading south. From the locals in Windhelm, she had learned that Kagrenzel was situated in the heights of the Velothi Mountains, on the border between Skyrim and Morrowind. The women followed the southerly road out of the city before Nervyna directed them off the road and up the mountains. Thickly wooded vegetation impeded their climb, forcing them at times to methodically clear their way through the brush with hatchets and large knives.

"Can't remember the last time I ever saw so much green," Vesparth commented as she hacked a low-hanging limb apart. She stopped to look around at the surrounding forest, tilting her head back to look up at the towering pines, their branches heavy with snow. Overhead, the sky was bright and clear, with a cool breeze swaying the treetops. "You don't see an awful lot of this in Solstheim."

"We're close to your home now, yeah?" Nervyna grunted as she cleared some thick brush with her knife, stepping through the breach. "Thinking of a visit? I could use some peace and quiet."

"Hah! Fat chance, f'lah," Vesparth answered with a grin. "I'm not that easy to get rid of. I have a duty to uphold too: watching your back."

"Really? I must have missed the part where you were told to make sure I couldn't hear myself think."

Before long, the vegetation began to thin out; steadily they advanced up the mountain slope until only a few scant pines were all that remained, clinging to the mountainside for dear life. Eventually, even those gave way, and only the bare, snow-covered stone remained on the slope. It was an arduous climb; their breaths came in thick, frosty puffs as they trudged through shin-high snow banks. Nervyna's expertise in mountain climbing helped them find the best path up, and Vesparth's natural fleet-footedness allowed her to keep pace with ease. Even so, it took them a good hour of climbing before they saw stone steps with Dwemer engravings carved into the mountainside. They took these going up the mountain; even weathered and snow-covered as they were, it made for a far easier climb for them.

Kagrenzel's domed roofs suddenly appeared through the swirling frost eddies, silhouetted against the sky, framed by mountain peaks. The stone steps disappeared into a thick snow bank that spilled down the mountainside, forcing the women to trudge onward through them. Finally the ruin came into full view; an ancient avalanche from the upper peaks of the mountain had buried the entire structure in a mound of snow. It must have only been uncovered in recent years, Nervyna thought. Even the locals in Windhelm had only been able to give her an approximation of its location when they had asked.

Vesparth's hand gripped her shoulder with a firm shake. Nervyna turned to see the Armiger pointing beyond her, up the snowy mound. "We've got company!"

Her attention returned to their front. Coming down the upper slopes of the mountain were a trio of large, shaggy shapes, bounding through the snow at them: frost trolls. Nervyna shrugged off her backpack, letting it fall to the snow so she could draw the blade sheathed at her back, while Vesparth slipped her axes free from her belt. The Armiger bared her teeth in a snarling smile, eyes wide and wild. "I was hoping we'd see some action! Bet I can kill more of 'em than you!"

"Be my guest!" Nervyna snarled before charging up the slope. Vesparth joined her, and the two women closed with the frost trolls in a few short moments. One of the beasts, a big hulking brute covered in old scars, roared and lunged at Nervyna. The mercenary uttered a bellowed "YOL!" Flame leapt in a scorching blast, and the troll uttered a shriek of pain. It struck with a gnarled fist, but the woman slipped beneath the blind strike and drew her long blade in a vicious arc across its stomach.

Blood flew, painting the snow with stark crimson. Her sword bit deep, but the troll ignored the pain. It lunged at her again, while a second troll came charging at her from behind. Nervyna threw herself into a roll, dodging beneath the swinging clawed fist, just in time for the two trolls to crash into each other. One of the beasts went tumbling down the slope while the other staggered and fell onto its side. Before it could rise, Nervyna was upon it, cleaving down into its skull. The beast jerked and collapsed into the snow, twitching and spurting blood.

There was a loud thud as Vesparth's frost troll collapsed into the snow, its fur burnt and blackened. The Armiger ripped her Cleaver out of its skull and leapt at the last remaining troll, who was climbing back up from where it had tumbled. It lunged at her, only for Vesparth to dart around its grabbing claws and swing herself up onto its back; hooking one axe around its neck, she swung her Cleaver into its head, triggering the enchantment and causing flames to ignite, scorching its shaggy white fur. The troll howled and twisted around, clawing at its unwelcome rider, while Nervyna flanked it, searching for an opening to strike.

Vesparth raised her Cleaver for another strike, but the troll's claws closed suddenly around her arm. It ripped her off its back and slammed her into the snow with an enraged bellow; the Armiger wheezed at the tremendous impact, all the air driven from her lungs. Nervyna hissed and lunged, striking just as the troll was making ready to rip her companion's arm out of its socket; her long blade pierced its heart through to its spine. Its pained bellow nearly deafened her, and she only just managed to rip her blade free before its jaws could clamp onto her neck. The beast tried to pursue, but it only managed to stagger her way a couple of stumbling steps before falling to its hands and knees. Vesparth was suddenly on her feet, and her Cleaver's next strike hammered the troll, dropping it with a cloven skull.

Peace returned to the mountainside as the women caught their breath, taking stock of their surroundings. When the coast was clear, Vesparth knelt to wipe her axes clean against the frost troll's pale fur, turning to shoot her companion a blood-spattered grin. "I'm counting that one as mine."

"Guarshit." Nervyna flicked the blood off her long blade and slid her sword through a snowbank to clean off the remaining crimson droplets. "It was as good as dead. I took its heart."

"Ah, but it was still moving until I sunk Cleaver into its thrice-damned skull."

Nervyna's blade flashed. Vesparth jerked away, but the blow fell short of striking her, falling instead on the frost troll's neck. Its body twitched once, then went still. The Armiger did a double-take, looking at her companion in disbelief. "What was that for?"

"I saw it move," the mercenary answered simply, cleaning her sword once again.

"It was just a twitch!" argued Vesparth. "You know, death throes?"

"Ah, but it was still moving. Now it is incapable of that." Nervyna allowed herself the faintest of smirks. "By your own rules, the kill is now mine."

As the mercenary picked up her fallen pack and walked away with her sword upon her shoulder, Vesparth folded her arms over her chest with a harrumph. "Smartarse!"

The large brass doors into Kagrenzel yielded before them with a tremendous, lonely groan that echoed within the expanse of its carven stone halls. Nervyna took a moment to light a torch before advancing into the darkness with Vesparth by her side, the Armiger keeping close behind her left shoulder at all times. Her torchlight illuminated the intricate geometric designs carved into the stone walls and the dull luster of Dwarf-brass that decorated them. The dark chamber was bare and empty, but the outline of a doorway loomed further ahead. With careful and deliberate steps, the women advanced, hands on their weapons, eyes watching for traps.

No automata leapt out at them, however, nor did any pressure plates or tripwires appear. Even so, this place unsettled Nervyna, and it took the mercenary a few moments to figure out why: the silence. Navigating a Dwarven ruin was like exploring the inside of a living thing - one with metal pipes like veins filled with rushing steam, gears and cogs that creaked and groaned like old bones, boilers and furnaces that hummed and pulsed with heat like a pumping heart, the groaning of exhaust vents like the leviathan sigh of huge lungs. Kagrenzel lacked all that. It was dark, cold, and silent.

"Hey, Vyna," whispered Vesparth, "you see anything through that door with that magic eye of yours?"

Nervyna bit back a retort at the use of the nickname and instead ventured to glimpse through her dead eye, on the off chance that there were bandits waiting in hiding to ambush them behind the door at the end of the room. She whispered back, "Don't see anything. But that doesn't mean there's nothing back there. The Deadsight cannot detect things without proper souls."

Vesparth grunted back an acknowledgment and kept her axes gripped tightly, seemingly not quite comforted by that answer. When they reached the doors, Nervyna shouldered it open carefully and peeked through the crack. Then she shoved them open the rest of the way and stalked inside, with Vesparth following.

Nothing seemed to be in the room, at first; all they could see by the light of their torch were a few pillars in the center. As they came closer, light suddenly flooded the chamber as a glowing orb appeared over the central pedestal surrounded by the pillars. Nervyna and Vesparth both reflexively brandished their weapons, ready to evade.

But nothing happened. The glowing, golden orb hovered over the pedestal, shining its light over the empty chamber. Nervyna and Vesparth exchanged a look of mutual uncertainty before lowering their weapons. With a hum, the Armiger left her companion's side and walked into the room. "Look for a way through. The curate can't be far."

"I don't see anything yet," Nervyna grunted, looking around. With the orb's light, her torch was no longer necessary to see; the room was empty, the walls bare of any sign of another hallway they might explore. The mercenary knew that sometimes in supposed dead-end rooms like this, there was a hidden pull chain or lever to open a secret passage. Perhaps they just had to find it.

Movement out of the corner of her good eye made Nervyna turn sharply. "Vesparth…"

The Armiger froze, her hand halfway extended toward the glowing orb floating over the pedestal. She jerked away from the orb and tucked her hands behind her back as Nervyna came stomping over, scowling. "What are you trying to do?"

"I dunno," admitted the Armiger, turning back to regard the glowing orb. She planted her hands on her hips, biting her lip. "Maybe this thingy is the key to finding the curate."

"Hrmm. Maybe." Nervyna took a good look at the thing, folding her arms over her chest. It was a simple, glowing orb. She was unsure of what kind of magic powered it; the orb emanated a soft light, and there was a gentle hum that hung on the cusp of her hearing. Curious, and with a healthy amount of wariness, Nervyna took her torch and extended it toward the orb to gently probe it.

CLANG!

At the sound of the metal clangor, Nervyna and Vesparth jerked away from the orb only to bump into the brass metal gates that had suddenly appeared around them, trapping them within. The glowing orb rose from its pedestal and hovered for a moment, then began to utter a shrill, synthetic shriek. It circled around the gate from the outside, scanning into their gated prison with a glowing ray of light, flying faster and faster; shadows flickered around them in a dizzying dance. Vesparth hissed, "What'd you do?!"

"I don't know," growled Nervyna, gripping her sword tightly. "Stand back. I'll try and Shout this gate apart." Vesparth nodded and hurried to stand behind the mercenary as she turned to face the gate. Steeling herself, the mercenary took in a sharp breath, her mind forming the Word as her lips followed suit.

Suddenly, the glowing orb's screeching ended. They watched as it came to hover above the pedestal again, before both the orb and the pedestal disappeared into the floor. A circular panel in the floor was all that remained, glowing faintly with arcane energy, leaving them trapped in the darkness. Seconds passed in silence, and the gates still did not retract. Vesparth, close behind Nervyna, whispered: "Is it over?"

A loud groan of cogs rumbled beneath their feet. The ground tilted, knocking Nervyna into Vesparth, until the platform they were standing on flipped completely. Suddenly they were in free-fall, wind rushing past their ears in a deafening roar. Above them, the ancient, weathered platform cracked and sent chunks of stone debris tumbling down in their wake. Vesparth screamed in terror, a sound that echoed in the caverns as they plummeted further down below, into the fathomless, black depths. Nervyna gritted her teeth and squinted, tears whipping past as she rolled and tumbled in the air, desperately trying to right herself, as if such a thing could save her life. There was one Shout that could help here, she recalled, one she'd learned in Ustengrav. She opened her mouth to Shout it—

They hit the water with a mighty splash. Nervyna had the poor fortune of landing on her back – the sensation was akin to flying into a brick wall. The jarring impact, as well as the frigid coldness of the water, wracked her entire body with pain. She struggled to right herself without knowing what was up or down, instinctively trying to claw her way up to the water's surface. Chunks of stone suddenly began to rain down from above, splashing into the water around her. The Dunmer cursed and tried to simultaneously swim away and avoid any other falling debris. A shadow suddenly eclipsed her. By chance, she glanced upward just in time to see a stone hurtling toward her.

A moment later, the stone struck her in the stomach. Her breath was knocked out of her in a stream of bubbles, and the stone's momentum carried them both deeper into the bottom of the subterranean lake. Nervyna tried to shove it off, but it felt like a giant's fist was squeezing her lungs shut, and the cold was sapping her strength, chilling her very soul. Everything was going numb. She could not free herself; she could only watch as the water's surface grew more and more distant, darkness creeping toward the center of her vision.

She felt a hand grip her collar, and suddenly she was being tugged upward. Nervyna did not have the strength to look; it took everything she had to keep herself from sucking in water. Her aching lungs throbbed, desperate for air; her limbs were phantoms, beyond reach, beyond sensation. She screwed her eyes shut to force herself to hang on, clinging to consciousness…

Her head finally breached the water's surface. Nervyna gasped, her eyes flying wide open with a hacking cough. She felt some strength return to her limbs, and she forced herself to tread water. It was a difficult task, but the hand gripping her collar did not relent, dragging her along. At last, she suddenly felt mud and stone beneath her; she was on solid ground again. Vesparth dragged the mercenary safely away from the water's edge before collapsing onto her hands and knees. Spitting out water, the Armiger swore in between shivering, labored breaths, " B'vehk, V-Vyna, you need to lose some f-fetching weight!"

The power of speech was beyond Nervyna for the moment as she recovered her breath. She forced herself to control her breathing so she could think clearly, a task accomplished only with the help of rigid, ironlike discipline; after that experience, her heart was hammering like a gloved fist against her ribs. Suddenly her cold-numb limbs regained their sensation, and the mercenary hissed in pain to feel them again.

Vesparth was by her side, clasping her shoulder with a concerned look in her eyes. "You alright, there?"

"S-still breathing." It was difficult to keep her voice firm when she was shivering. After a few moments longer of steadying her breathing, the warrior tilted her head back and rolled her eyes to look up at Vesparth. "Thanks…"

A little sigh of relief escaped the Armiger's lips as she granted her a weary smile. "Told you I was here to watch your back, Vyna."

The warrior did not even have the strength to protest the use of her nickname. She only nodded before slowly sitting upright, with some help from Vesparth. A quick look around them showed her that they were on a small island in the underground mountain lake, the water's surface reflecting the opal-studded cavern ceiling like a starry sky overhead. Roaring waterfalls fed the lake from high up above, sourced in the cavernous upper levels beyond where she could see. To her surprise, she noticed there were a few corpses floating in the lake. They were clad in armor, blue and bloated from the cold water. "Those must be the mercenaries who came with the curate."

"Probably." Vesparth eyed them with distaste, then looked out across the water. Nervyna supposed she was searching for any sign of the deceased curate, until she heard her say, "I think I saw your sword fall down in that water somewhere. Wait here, I'll get it."

"Vesparth, no—"

Too late; the Armiger was already diving headfirst into the water. Nervyna cursed under her breath, but she was powerless to go after her. She could only wait for Vesparth's return. Seconds ticked by, until finally, the Armiger's head breached the surface, triumphantly hoisting Nervyna's long, curved blade overhead.

"Found it on a little ledge under the water, lucky for you," the shivering Armiger remarked, dropping it close to Nervyna. She sat herself down across from the mercenary before tugging off her gloves, rubbing warmth into her hands. "We're gonna have to set a fire somehow so we can warm up properly."

"Later. Curate's still out there, we need to find her, fast." Nervyna was already feeling a bit better; ever since she had found the Word of Power for Fire Breath in Sunderstone Gorge, her resilience against the cold had increased. Of course, she had to remind herself that her companion was not so blessed. She tempered her stoic response by summoning some warming flames in her hands, adding, "Take your time to warm up a little and catch your breath."

"Thanks." Vesparth nodded, warming her hands by Nervyna's flames. The Armiger glanced over at the dark water of the lake, eyeing the corpses again. After a few moments of scanning, she observed, "I don't see any Tribunal robes floating around. I'm guessing that our curate might still be alive, albeit cold and sopping wet."

"Maybe. Might not be that way for long, if she's injured," remarked the mercenary, eyeing the mouth of a tunnel not far from their position, where the glow of cave mushrooms drew her eye. Even in the faint blue light they provided, she could make out the shapes of bone and chitin totems, and she recognized them for what they were. "Falmer in here. Be careful."

Vesparth nodded, making a face as she saw the totem. "Hate those creepy things. Worse than any Riekling in Solstheim."

For a moment, Nervyna did consider using her Deadsight on one of the corpses floating in the lake, but ultimately decided against it - she was not feeling up to the task of fishing them out of the frigid water. They waited until Vesparth felt good enough to continue on their path, navigating their way toward the mouth of the tunnel by hopping on stones that jutted out of the water. Guided by the light of the glowing mushrooms that lined the walls, the women stalked quietly through the tunnels, blades bared and bodies tense.

As they were climbing up a slope, a rumble echoed through the tunnel. Nervyna looked up sharply to see stones tumbling down toward them, a trap sprung to catch them. Both women slipped into a nook just in time to watch them roll past, before the sound of feet slapping against bare stone reached them. The mercenary growled and bolted out of cover, coming face to face with a pair of Falmer; Vesparth confronted a second pair that came down the tunnel from behind. Long-limbed and covered in hairless, leathery, pale hide, the accursed elves flared their nostrils and swiveled their long ears as they locked onto their quarry. Then, with savage shrieks, the blind creatures lunged toward the Dunmer. Vesparth uttered a wordless battle cry and charged at her foes, dual axes sweeping, while Nervyna bellowed a Shout: "KRII!"

Purple energy rushed at the incoming Falmer in a deadly pulse; the same energy began to envelop the hostile elves in a thrumming purple sheen. Nervyna watched grimly as their skin began to split and peel as the Shout ate away at them. One Falmer screeched in agony and clawed at himself, staggering away and fleeing; his fellow of heartier constitution gave a berserk roar and charged at Nervyna with a savage strike from his hand axe. The Dunmer backstepped to avoid the swing and brought her sword down on its shield; weakened by the Shout, the chitin shield split down its center, and the mercenary's blade cleaved through its skull with a wet squelching noise. A shrill cry came from the second Falmer, rushing in after having recovered from its ordeal, but a blast of flame from Nervyna's hand sent it screaming back again. She ended its pain with a swift decapitating cut.

Nervyna turned back to her comrade to help, but she was only in time to watch her finish her foes in short order. Vesparth kicked one Falmer into the wall and sunk her Cleaver into the other's ribcage, then hauled it around to fling the flaming corpse back down the slope. As the first Falmer recovered and charged, she threw her axe at it; the weapon stuck fast in its skull, flinging it to the ground. As Vesparth wrenched her weapon from its skull, she shot Nervyna a glance. The mercenary gave her a quick approving nod, and then they were off again.

More Falmer were waiting for them when they exited the tunnel, walking out onto a natural bridge. Without glowing mushrooms to line the walls, they had almost been blind to their presence if not for the sound of shuffling feet coming their way. Nervyna blasted flame from her hand, the glow illuminating the presence of three more Falmer on the bridge, who leapt back from the spell. A bolt of lightning suddenly streaked overhead, making both Dunmer flinch as it crashed against the wall behind them. Four, Nervyna corrected herself with a snarl.

The Falmer screeched and charged at them. Nervyna, keeping a hearty blaze burning in her palm to see by, struck them with an Unrelenting Force; with all three Words of Power, the creatures were sent tumbling to the ground, their charge broken, one of them killed instantly when his skull was dashed against a jagged rock. Vesparth bolted past her companion and leapt into the fray, cutting down one Falmer struggling to stand and setting another ablaze with Cleaver's enchantment. The pain-maddened elf stumbled off the bridge, screaming as it fell into the lake below. The shaman standing toward the back of the bridge set her sights on Vesparth and fired; the lightning bolt struck the Armiger squarely center-of-mass, making her fall to the ground with a gasp of pain, utterly stunned and bearing a scorched hole in her chitin armor.

A word of Whirlwind Sprint flung Nervyna forward toward the shaman before it could fire again. Her sudden presence made the Falmer spellcaster snarl in surprise and turn its crackling staff toward her, but the Dunmer was faster; one strike from the sword redirected the lightning blast of the staff, and the follow-up skewered the shaman through its heart.

Nervyna kicked the Falmer off her blood-slickened blade and returned to Vesparth's side. The Armiger was able to rise to her feet, but she swayed and shook her head as she recovered from the lightning's strike. "It's nothing, I'm just feeling a little tingly, is all," she responded to Nervyna's asking after her health. But the discomfort she was obviously feeling did not satisfy the mercenary.

"Another hit like that might be the end of you," muttered Nervyna warningly, handing Vesparth a healing potion from her bag. The vial was slick with lake water, like everything else in her pack.

"Ye of little faith," the Armiger snorted quietly, drinking the potion dutifully nevertheless.

They continued once they had caught their breath. No more Falmer ambushed them from the shadows. Before long, after a few minutes of traversing the dark halls, they began to see broken Dwemer pillars jutting out of the walls along their path, and even a carved stone archway. A soft murmur began to echo through the tunnel, growing slowly with intensity until they came upon its source: a trickling stream flowing downhill along their path. They stepped carefully over the slippery round stones, one hand on the wall for support, the other gripping a weapon.

After several long minutes of walking, following the course of the flowing water through the tunnel, Vesparth suddenly laid a hand on Nervyna's shoulder. "Wait. I hear voices," she whispered.

Nervyna stopped to listen. She craned her head, her sharp ear twitching ever so slightly as it caught the murmur of voices echoing through the cavern. It quickly became clear that there were several people she could hear; several rough, growling voices that dripped with contempt and a single female voice, touched with fear. "I hear 'em."

"Sounds like trouble."

"Probably." Nervyna put a finger to her lips to forestall any further discussion and began to creep down the tunnel. Stepping quietly, she was able to hear the sound of voices growing louder as they approached the source.

Finally, the tunnel opened up; water flowed past their feet and cascaded down a short fall into a pool from another cavern below, where three bandits clad in rough-looking furs and padded cloth jacks surrounded a single, shivering Dunmer woman clad in damp, orange-red Tribunal robes. While two of the brigands were tying the Dunmer hand and foot, the third was turning over in his hands a brazen metal mask decorated with Dwemeri-looking filigree and an arcing triple crest.

"Please stop!" cried Curate Melita, wriggling in her bonds. "That's a priceless artifact! You're handling the mask of a god-king!"

In direct response to this, the Nord man put the mask on his face. He turned to his comrades and pointed at himself, asking, "How's it look on me, mates?"

"You look like a complete loon," answered one of the women trussing up the Dunmer, a Redguard with black hair done in long braids.

Her companion, a ginger-haired Nord woman tightening a knot around the curate's ankles, snorted a laugh in agreement. "Oh, I don't know, I think it's an improvement over his usual face."

While the bandits laughed, the two warriors watching them from above crept closer. Still hidden in the shadow of the tunnel behind them, the women had so far gone unnoticed. Vesparth sidled up to Nervyna and hissed into her ear, "Come on. We can take 'em."

Nervyna scowled, weighing their options. She was worn, battered, and bruised, and Vesparth was not doing any better, no matter how much bravado she put up. With neither of them in good condition and the curate directly in the line of fire of a Shout, there were precious few options available to them. At length, the mercenary took a potion from her belt and drank it to restore some of her vigor, then turned to her companion. "Follow my lead."

Without warning, the Dunmer both leapt down the ledge, splashing into the shallow pool and catching the attention of the bandits. They immediately all leapt upright and reached for their weapons, only for Nervyna to snarl at them: "Stay your weapons or you die!"

All at once, the bandits froze, hands gripping half-drawn weapons. They looked at each other in confusion and back to the pair of Dunmer. Their attention was seized by the deadly-looking mercenary who took a stalking step toward them. In a dark, cold voice, she uttered, "Put the mask down, and step away from the priestess, and you might live to see another sunrise."

"Yeah, right," snarled the Redguard woman as she strung a shortbow. "You think we're afraid? We've got you outnumbered, if you haven't noticed."

Nervyna glared at the Redguard. A spectral blue-white glow began to burn menacingly within her dead eye as she growled in response. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."

The two Nord brigands paled, and the woman squeaked, "Shit. She's the Dragonborn."

"You're damned right she is," drawled Vesparth, grinding the edges of her twin axes together in anticipation. "Better clear out, fetchers, or you'll see her make good on her promise."

"Son of a bitch." The Nord man ripped off his mask and snarled in fury, looking quickly at his comrades to see how hopelessly outmatched they were. Then, in a sudden surge of motion, he bent low to drag the curate upright. Melita gave a yelp of terror, abruptly silenced when the edge of the bandit's rust-spotted carving knife appeared at her throat. The bandit barked at Nervyna. "You better stand down or else the bitch gets a new smile!"

"Baldur!" snapped the Redguard woman in shock. "What are you doing?!"

"We're not gonna give up this prize that easily!" the Nord barked in response. He turned, baring his teeth at Nervyna. "I mean it! Take one step and this elf bitch dies!"

"Please no," croaked Curate Melita in a wavering voice, on the verge of tears.

"You fetching n'wah!" snarled Vesparth through gritted teeth, growling with impotence. She shot Nervyna a quick sideways glance. "Talk to me, Vyna. What're we gonna do?"

Nervyna growled softly under her breath, gripping her sword tightly in her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth among the bandits, looking for a weak link, but there was none among them. The Nord woman and the Redguard had their resolve bolstered by the decisiveness of their comrade. Curate Melita had her eyes screwed tightly shut as she was dragged away. Suddenly she whimpered, "Forget about me! Don't let them take Sotha Sil's mask!"

"Quiet, you!" snapped the Nord man, grabbing her hair and jerking it back to bare her neck. Melita squeaked in pain and terror as his carving knife's edge dug into the soft flesh of her throat; bright red blood welled up from the wound.

"Vyna," muttered Vesparth warningly, glancing at the mercenary.

Nervyna took in a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow, grating sigh. She whispered under her breath, "Vesparth… cover your ears."

"What?" the Armiger asked, bewildered. She looked uncertain now. "You can't be thinking—"

"Do it!" hissed the Dragonborn; the woman's gaze was intense like never before, both eyes burning with warning. Vesparth was helpless but to obey and clamp her hands over her ears. Nervyna turned her baleful glower upon the retreating bandits. They saw the look in her eyes and redoubled their pace, unsure of what was to come but not willing to take any chances even with their hostage in tow. Nervyna steeled herself, shut her eyes tightly to make peace with what she was about to do. When she opened them again, full of terrible resolve, she mustered her Voice and unleashed its full fury.

"GOL HAH DOV!"

It was one of the few Shouts that she had learned all three Words of Power for. Vesparth flinched away as the sound of the Thu'um hammered within her chest like a concussive blast, filling the cavern with its roar. The shallow pool around their feet shivered. A blast of reality-warping energy pulsed through the bandits. Suddenly, the bandits and Melita were all jarred into a rigid, upright posture. They all stood like statues in place, unmoving as they turned toward the Dragonborn. Seeing their blank expressions and distant gazes fulfilled some unspeakable desire within Nervyna. Her next words were uttered in a distorted, almost demonic inflection that chilled the very air when she spoke: "Release the curate. Melita – to me."

Without even a word of assent, the bandit lowered his knife from Melita's throat. The curate, her mind no longer her own, returned to Nervyna's side, a paragon of poise. Once that was done, Nervyna turned to the bandits and held her hand out. "Give me the mask."

The Nord man strode across the shallow pool toward her and offered the Mask of Sotha Sil without complaint. Nervyna took it and gave it a brief, cursory inspection to ensure its good state. Satisfied, she returned her attention to the bandits, all staring at her with unseeing gazes. Mindless, empty husks waiting to be given a command, powerless but to obey. The black spark within her compelled her to speak again, in that distorted, unearthly Voice that commanded unflinching obedience.

"Fall upon your swords."

As one, the bandits drew their swords. Nervyna watched as they inverted their blades and skewered themselves through their hearts. They made no sound, save for the wheeze of breath being driven from their lungs as they were pierced by their own blades. The Nord man in front of Nervyna did not even twitch as his lifeblood gushed out from his mortal wound; in his eyes, she saw no presence of the mind that once inhabited this shell, no recognition of his killer standing before him, no pain or anger at his own helplessness. Seconds later, the bodies crumpled like puppets with cut strings, splashing into the shallow pool. Nervyna was left standing amongst the hemorrhaging bandits, filled with a cold, dark sort of satisfaction.

A hand touched her shoulder. She turned sharply, glaring, her dead eye glowing. Vesparth recoiled her hand, stricken, the look in her eyes one of concern. "Vyna…?"

Nervyna held the Armiger's gaze for several long seconds, listening to the ragged rise and fall of her own breath and the hammering of her pulse in her ears. Common sense began to return; now with a fresh surge of shame suffusing her, the mercenary quickly averted her gaze to the pool beneath their feet. Dark red swirls of blood were beginning to fill the pool, staining the clear water with crimson. She abruptly turned away, sheathing her sword and making for the other end of the cavern. "Let's get out of here."

Curate Melita, still glassy-eyed and obedient, followed in the mercenary's wake. Vesparth hesitated, watching Nervyna go. For once, she felt doubt linger at the back of her mind as she contemplated walking after her comrade. The Armiger eyed the slain bandits surrounding her, pierced through by their own blades, gripped by their own hands. Even in death, their expressions were featureless. Finally, with a swear under her breath, the Dunmer hurried off after her companion, leaving the scene of carnage behind.

A/N: And here we see the true horrifying capacity of Bend Will... It's a pretty messed-up Shout when you think about it, huh?

Anyway - thanks for reading! I hope you'll me know what you think of the story so far!