Chapter 8: Shadow of Bleak Falls Burrow
When I was told this ruin was taken over by bandits, I didn't expect there to be an entire camp numbering in around 30 or so with certainly more within the ruins. They've turned this ruin into an outpost, polluting it with their presence. I surveyed the encampment from behind a set of large rocks, abiding my time until nightfall. Hopefully the Dominion doesn't decide today to bring about the Void Moons again. I happen to need the stars tonight.
I summized that walking into the camp to be the most foolish act that could've cursed my thoughts. If I tried to attack that camp comprised of tents and wooden obstacles, these savage wandering Mer called humans will overwhelm me in moments. There's no way around unless I wish to climb over the side of the mountain, which I won't.
In the end I decided to wait until night where I'll have faster Magicka pool regeneration and my darker cloak will provide ample cover for my golden skin. Gods above the sun truly feels smug as it drains me. It's been decades since I was one of Molag BaI's property. We as mortals are nothing but ants to that being. My body is mortal but the "life" of a Cold Form has forever scarred my soul. The body can be normal, but any and all that bolster life still irritates me.
I rested within a small hovel I dug out with my fire on the side of the mountain near the path. I sat down to wait patiently slowly restoring my Magicka with each breathe in the cold, comforting shadows. I experimented with my current capabilities in the destruction and alteration schools as well. I can only recall a few incantations of a few intermediate spells, for humans that is. I cannot recall the entire incantations or sigils needed for so many spells I've only a faint remembrance of.
A few bandits would pass by every hour. It seems they've noticed that their men have gone missing. I've taken to throwing the bodies over the side of the mountain or hiding them out of sight, less these humans stir up like a hornet's nest. They began sending men to investigate why the team below hasn't appeared to transition out, but they stopped after the fourth set. Each a set of two or three Reston and I ambushed and threw off the side of the mountain later after taking valuables of course. They fact I've begun using the tactics of the farm tools and house pets disturbs me. Worse are the places these humans hide their valuables. Humans hide them in disgusting places, filthy bandits live by a creed of mistrust so hide jewels or gold on them any orifice they can. It's not difficult to claim for myself but does well to deter me a tad. One breton mage lost hide gold within his stomach.
Why did my ancestors bring about their creation again? Oh, right. The same reason they've begun manipulating the moons to enslave the cats.
I cleaned the prints past my hovel and returned to waiting snuffing out each life that past by me. I figured thinning the herd will be beneficial for the long run.
"Where in oblivion is that slatcha!"
"Grrrr..." I rested my hand in Reston's head. He calmed his nerves and remained at my side. I didn't have to move a muscle to know they were close. Even more they were right over the edge above. The hovel I dug happened to be on the side of a cliff with a small set of steps leading to it.
"Ha manny it be nah!" Another voice cut through the winds of the mountain.
"I don kna! Buts we bes fine em!"
That's three voices and three more to add to the pile. During times like this I'm thankful for my ears. Picking up the softest of tones and lightest foot steps gave my eyes further range past the unseen. I watched them move away picking up the subtle scent of leather and steel. Oil as well; the sort for weapon cleaning. The bandits down at the base of the mountain were fodder compared to these three. They way they walked through the snow wasn't labored or forced meaning there accustomed to this mountain more so than those below. Their fur smelled fresh and we'll kept. They respect their gear and perhaps so do the rest in the camp.
Best get rid of them.
I climbed to a crouch and walked to the exit out of the hovel. I grab the wall careful not to take the plunge down to the bottom. The path was large enough for a dog to trek through, but wasn't so kind towards my form. Once I reached the edge I jumped up to grip and edge. Dragging myself over I peeked over the top and found the bandits trekking towards the outpost below.
"Reston, let's move."
My wolf shot around under me and trot up to my face. I climbed up the rest of way and returned to my crouch.
More trash to dispose of.
The night in Skyrim is something else entirely. There's something almost daedric about the night skies over this land. It can't be compared to Morrowind, Highrock, Cyrodil, Hammerfell, or even Summerset. Closest is Cyrodil and only in an Ayleid ruin where the magicka of the stars still fills its marble white halls. The stars above provided us the cover we needed to get closer. The bandit camp, however, was on high alert. The three before were no mere bandits; they were established outlaws. Their senses were keen and sharp. They recognized my tracks and those of Reston. They knew I was nearby. Shock from above and ice shards still proved effective on them. I'm grateful for the lack of Magicka users perverting the art with their incompetence. Humans have blamed many unfortunate experiences on Magicka despite it being the life blood of our world. Their superstition and caution only leaves more Magicka for me to mold and cast.
The severe lack of casters in the camp relieved me. Casters, essentially invokers, can decide the fate of a conflict in moments. That privilege is mine and mine alone, for now.
Sneaking around like a thief; I previously believed myself free of this shameful tactic. I can't get too close to the inner portions of the camp, so forced to work around the outskirts. I've taken care of half of them by now and they've gathered in the center with archers patrolling the perimeter.
"Stay close," I whispered to my companion. He did just that and remained right behind me as we trailed around the camp. I ducked each torch light and crawled through the snow in some places up towards the stairs. My back and legs burned from all the crouch walking and kneeling. This is embarrassing but effective.
We crossed one archer we couldn't avoid and took cover behind a stack of logs. I pulled out my knife and took a breath. Slowly, I stood up to my full height and gripped the blade. Memories of that old fool who taught me weapon throwing crossed my thoughts. Of course, I learned and nearly mastered it, but never without Magicka aid. Alteration (a branch of Invocation in certain circles) along with Conjuration (branch of Invocation same as Alteration) have always held a special place in my tomes. Levitation or the manipulation of atmospheric force, being one example. Killing those bandits have assisted with restoring the memory of one such spell I learned in Morrowind.
A simple, little... Push.
I tossed the knife and pushed out my hand gripping it with my magicka. It launched straight and true towards the bandit and found home in his neck. I swiftly rushed him as he stumbled back from shock. I tackled him him down quickly claiming my knife and proceeded to stab him three consecutive times in the chest and once more in the neck. I waited patiently until his soul joined the many others in the Great Darkness.
I sheathed my obsidian gem for a knife dragging the body with me. After taking any coin or small herbs on his body I tossed the human over the side of the mountain to followed the rest I've put to permasleep this day. I buried the bloody red snow under fresh white and continued up towards the "Ancient" nord temple. Not too ancient if my great grandfather watched the wandering ones building this for their overlords. I wonder how he's doing right now. Great grand father, Lok'tin which means Grand One is a name earned from years of honorable service to the Dominion. He's a model Mer many strive to emulate.
The bandits didn't set much of a camp on the steps up towards the entrance to the temple. They left most of it bare. I saw a few guards but nothing I couldn't dispose of in a few moments. I crouchwalked once more like a thief from pillar to pillar until I was below one man. I brandish my knife then dropped behind him. He heard me and turned but not quick enough. I wrapped my arm around his neck covering his mouth. Sparks burst from my palms causing his body to seize and stabbed him in the neck. I dragged him back stabbing hum in the chest repeatedly before throwing his body of the side into the snow below next to an awaiting Reston. He stalked from below as I was above.
"Ready to come up?" The Wolf dog nodded his head. I dropped in moments back to the snow and leaned down showing him my back. Reston used me as a boost to jump off and up over the edge. I climbed right after. One human female was climbing up the stairs just as I was about to approach the doors. "Run to the opposite side," I pointed out then grabbed his collar and waited. I released my wolf once the bandit was close enough to grab and Reston ran past her to the other side of the stairs.
The bandit jumped from shock, "What in Talos!" she pulled her axe from her belt and chased after Reston to the other side stopping at the edge. A knife in the dark sang as it found home in the back of her neck. My magicka receded back as I rushed at her after that throw. I grabbed the furs of her shoulder and slammed her into the wall, holding the fool steady. Her eyes were probably frantic and full of alarm and fear at what just happened not that I'd matter. I grip the knife and yanked it out only to replace it to her back several times and finishing it off by slitting her throat and allowing the body drop to the ground, bleeding.
Reston returned to my side moments later. "Good," I pat his head. I felt him lick my fingers then leaned the top of his head into my palm.
I grabbed the bow from the bandits back. It was in good condition, an imperial one by the feel of it, same with their arrows. I'm not much for archery, but who needs to be when I've a wolf large enough to tackle a fully built nord to the ground?
The door was my next objective. I gave it a push an fit gave way with ease. I cracked it open and looked inside to five bandits. One happened to be a female n surprisingly. I don't see to many female bandits. Normally they don't last very long unless their exceptionally gifted enough to exceed their male counterparts. I examined her briefly from her race to her gear. Interestingly enough it was a feline of all things. A house pet with two twin blades on her back dressed in simple leathers, well oiled and starched. The others within appeared to be wounded and all males. All humans as well.
The cat might will be troublesome. They're fast on their feet with natural weapons in the form of claws and fangs. One bite will tear out my neck veins like knives through lard if not careful.
I slipped inside through the crack and slowly closed the door. The cat whirled around my direction. I dove behind a pair of rocks just before she could, Reston was right behind me. That cat eye of hers will make the dark useless to me. Her sense of smell will pick me up same with any blood I've split. Damn these humans. Why do they have a Khajiit here?
I pulled up the bow I took and positioned it ready to let arrows fly. I notch an arrow back and breathed asking the ancestors to guide my hand so these arrows strike true. I leaned up and fired the first man closest to the way deeper into the ruin.
"Ahhh!" he screamed hitting this shoulder instead of his head as desired. Archery never worked for me. Throwing weapons are where I shine but only at a specific distance. The remaining bandits all were alerted and faced towards him. I fired again and again hitting another two and fired lightning at the last forcing him back down to the ground.
"Who are you," the Khajiit snarled, her swords in her claws. She was looking dead at me. I walked into the center of the great hall dropping the bow down to the ground and stepped into the light.
"My name doesn't matter," I said taking in the progress I made. One I killed with my Bolt spell. Another I expertly scored an arrow to the head. Unfortunately others I hit are in unfatal areas. An arm, a leg, shoulder, and last in the back. Mostly this left the cat before me. "You're in the way you fur shedding fleabag," I spat out to the side.
The yellow eyes of the cat sized me up glowing with fury. Closer now, I can clearly make out the color of her fur. White with black stripes here or there. The female stood shorter than I, but not to be underestimated. Reston got to work by tackling one of the men to the ground at the ready to maul him. The khajiit looked ready to move, and I mirrored her movements.
"I want nothing but to go deeper into the ruin. Get in my way, or I'll put you down," I warned the shooma, moonsuger whipping feline.
The khajiit hissed at me what I believe was a chuckle. "You'll be skinned slow you will. A coat of gold, Trishelle needs and your ears as well." She held her swords up at the ready.
"You don't have the qualifications to kill me," I glowered dropping into a etanc with my dagger in hand." You barely have them to be my thrall.
The cat hissed angrily at me. "Trishelle will make sure elf bastard alive when she's skins him. Trishelle will enjoy it," the cat spoke in the third person. Their language surrounds that depending of which kingdom they hail from. Still, the threat it made out me on edge. It wasn't out off by my insults and not appeared focused on killing me. If anything, a sadistic shine bolstered within those cats eyes of hers. Two sword styles aren't common for these cats. I'd normally see this from Nords or maybe Red Guards. This one appeared comfortable with each blade.
"Very well." I waved my hand and Reston got to work while I rushed the cat. The cat hissed and leapt up to the top of a fallen pillar toward me. I shifted to the left out of the way as she lunged at me. I bareky evaded a slash with a quick step to the right and blocked another strike with my knife. Fire flashed in my palms and blasted towards her. The cat flipped out of the way and ran around a pillar for cover.
"Damn house pets. Always so slippery." I scoffed but got some distance away from the pillar. Suddenly a pain erupted from my shoulder and looked down to a knife sticking out of my shoulder. Little cat threw a knife at me. I couldn't see it in all this dark. I shot over the fallen pillar and took cover. "That was a decent throw," I begrudgingly admitted. I felt she aimed for my main arm for a reason instead of my head or neck. I gripped the knife and yanked it out roughly and stopped the bleeding with restoration magicka. I didn't heal the wound fully opting to use that magicka for my destruction spells instead. I held the knife up taking noticed of its discoloration in the faint light. This was poisoned. This burn in my blood was familiar filling me with relief. I gave the knife a sniff to ensure it's one I'm resistant to. I've taken many poisons to build resistance, and this is one of them.
I heard her movements towards my place and moved toward another pillar. I ran around firing bolts her direction. Little cat flipped and rolled to avoide them and behind another pillar. I picked up a discarded blade and ran but stopped just shy of leaving the cover of another pillar. A knife sailed past me and would've landed in my neck had I kept moving. I procured the other knife and held both in hand to keep our game going.
We played this game of cat and mouse to my frustration. She'd come close and I'd evade her strikes before using fire to force her back. I'd use frostbite or Flash Bolt to push her back and she'd throw knives forcing my hands down to defend myself from her projectiles. This game grew annoying when she grabbed a bow discarded from the side and stared shooting wildly. We dashed around the hall from cover to cover at times meeting at the middle. I grabbed one of the swords from the ground and matched blades with her. The cat wasn't too bad. I hate to admit it, but better than the current me in swordsmanship. I've learned swordsmanship over my many years, but I can't recall any of my lessons or techniques. Damn this annulment.
The cat crossed blades with me and managed go get under my guard. I suffered a slash my chest and stepped back from the blow. She f shot down in a crouch and lunged at me aiming for my legs in a form of low kick. I jumped away and she suddenly changed her footing, stomping the foot I believed meant to trip me, and slashed upwards in a jumped cutting across my arm nearly taking it off. I felt skin and bone give under her slash and fell over to the ground. The cat moved to finish me, but I rolled over the side avoiding two slashes and rewarded her with a flash bolt to the chest forcing her back. It was weaker than normal and meant more to stagger not wound.
I grabbed my arm held on by only a bit of skin and place it back in placed. My magicka flooded the area to reattach and heal my arm. After healing my wounds I breathed to restored some of my mana as quickly as I could.
"Take this elf!" the cat tackled me down and forced us both down to the ground.
"Ahh!" A pain induced cry slipped past my lips. I looked down and found a knife in my leg. I kicked her way and rolled back to my feet. I grabbed the knife and tossed it right at her. She ducked but didn't duck the second that slammed into her hip infused with push force magicka. The cat cried and retracted back providing me more time for Restoration magicka to cover me arm once more. Thankfully she didn't takeoff the entire arm else it's take longer to restore.
I dropped to a knee and pulled out the knife trying to formulate a plan. This clever little cat is using the environment against me. My form isn't ideal for such quick witted foes, neither can I moved as swiftly as her in close quarters. Her swords are finely sharpened enough to dismember if not cateful. Reston as well, she nearly cut him down forcing me to grab him and heal his wounds before he died. The Khajiit, created by the daedric prince Asura, are thrice blessed with all the tools they need to prove a nuisance to me.
Curses toward Azura and the others that helped her. Not Boethiah though. He still revels in my schemes at times and sends his blessings.
I looked over the side of my pillar and spot the cat nursing her wound. Red blood flowed out from her hop and she quickly applied pressure to the wound. She discarded her leather chest piece leaving her torso bare. I took the opening and shot over the pillar, my hands positioned up. Fire blasted past my fingers tips. The cat rose her blade to block some of the fire it seems and backed away slowly because disappearing behind another pillar. Her blade was red from the heat of my fire and close to breaking I can imagine. I grabbed a mace from the ground I saw previously.
"Rawwww!" I heard a loud, pain filled growl. I rushed fast to her position and swung the mace when I predicted she'd be. The cat moved blocked the blow from the mace holding her side. The scent of burned fur filled my nose and looked down at her wound. She used the sword to cauterize her wound before she bled out. Still, the scent of my opposition's blood and a goal in mind reddened my vision. I felt my reason leave me and watched as I bashed her blade and chased down aiming the mace at her blade until it snapped in a loud clang.
She's lost one sword.
Just as my blood began to calm down the cat, in a sudden burst of speed, fired under my senses before they could fully return. She slammed her elbow into my stomach again forcing me back seizing the mace from my weakened grasp. She held it back bashed my shoulder with it making it creak. It would've been my head had my senses not returned in time. I blasted the mace with a bolt and the cat yelped dropping it to the ground. I was about to make it grab it until she pulled two knives from her belt. I retreated back grabbing a discarded sword and held it up defensively in the middle of the hall. When I focused on her prior position, she was gone. In moments I lost track of her in what I have to call a feint.
"Curses," I snapped berating my foolishness. Of course it was a feint. She needs time to recover and gain back her advantage. I closed my eyes and listened putting my grandfather's ears to good use. Her foot steps are light but she's injured just as I was. There's a limp in her steps and shown when I heard her misstep behind me. I whirled around and crossed blades with her once more. I pushed her back thanks to my superior strength and size. I flashed Bolt her again. She tossed an ace in the way of the bolt an fit flew in a random direction when it took the blunt of my spell.
She charged at me and slashed across my chest again during my surprise. I hadn't expected that. I blocked the next and the other forcing her back. I took the sword in both hands and breathed slowly. I haven't used my father's style of swordsmanship in a long time. It was always too defensive for my tastes but against a foe so aggressive maybe it was necessary… or was it.
"Now!" Reston jumped from the shadows and slammed into the cat from the back. Shocked and taken surprise I ran at her and slashed across her stomach through her fur. Show she rose a knife to block some of my strike but not all. Her side burst with red blood dampening the white fur with crimson. The cat gasped from the strike. She reached down to the wound and held it tight. I turned and slashed out but she dodged it with a desperate flip forward. Reston rammed into her back sending her spiraling to the floor. Before she could recover I flash bolt her in the back. The smell of burnt flesh and fur filled the cool air of the hall. Reston quickly pounced after my attack and downed cat locking his powerful jaw around her throat keeping her steady and still on the wet cobble floor. He hadn't gone for the kill as I told him to but was ready end a weak khajiit life if she struggled to get up her one good arm.
I walked up to her with the sword tight in hand. That flash bolt was weak but the shock was what I needed to keep her still enough for a finishing blow. I've used more mana that desired nearly draining my pool dry, and wasted on a cursed furry slave.
How bothersome.
I walked up to her with the sword tight in hand. She panted gasping for was air she could get. "N-no… Trishelle can't die… not yet."
I pressed my foot into her chest just as Reston released her throat and took to my side. "Sometimes the house pet needs to be put down." I positioned the sword up to finish this. This cat was fitting opposition, but now it's over.
"Pet? Ah, yes." She held her arms out over her shoulders suddenly causing me to halt my downward stab. A very familiar position I've seen from servants many times in my father's house and many others. "Trishelle… Elwin pur'ua nya ka'tuo."
How bothersome.
"Yes, yes. Let Trishelle live. Will serve. Will serve faithfully til released," she said quickly. The Altmer that arrived here in Skyrim would've killed this floor wiper without a second's hesitation, but the bout between us spawned new revelations. I'm not strong anymore. I nearly lose my life to a farm tool alone. I can faintly use any martial forms I can remember and yet can recreate. I can cast but spells any child could us. No, I'm not strong enough to travel these lands alone as I could've before. I need slaves, servants, and connections if I wish to survived long enough to further my research. Very few pets have the potiental this one does. Despite my feathered state I'm not easy to kill and strong enough to match the strength of many wandering ones. Still, that's not enough.
"You know Altmerus? You've been a servant before? Did you kill your previous master?" I questioned the feline.
"Previous master abuse Trishelle… at night he came."
"Ah." I sighed. "Heel Reston." I glared at the wolf still growling at the cat. He whined a bit but sat down. I pulled my foot back same with threw the sword to the side. Even I know that such actions are unbecoming of any master. Servants are servants because they do as told during the day. Taking one at night isn't a crime but it's disgraceful and breach upon most contracts. Every servant is under contract even those that carry titles like "slave" have a paper trail. Untoward actions are kept secret until it isn't. At that point payment is made for the disgrace. I can tell she's not lying as well. If there's one thing my house doesn't condone it's a sin such as that. After the fall of the Ayleids, rise of the Septem empire, and even the Plague of Black Marsh treating your servants as meat will usher misfortune in time. That dead god made sure that all Mer suffer for his sundering before time became truly linear.
My house as taken this lesson and many more to heart. Is why we are so powerful.
I stepped back from the cat and said, "Stand up."
"Yes, yes. Trishelle will get up." The cat gripped her side and struggled up. Slowly, she took to her feet to stand before me. She bowed her head low. It was practiced and ingrained in her well. She's strong, swift, clever, and well trained. Truly a highly desired servant from skill and potential alone. It'd be a shame to kill her.
"If you serve me faithfully, I will never abuse you nor shame you. A blood pact will be done and your life bound to mine. For as long as your faith hold true my pact will be true to you. Do you accept?"
"Yes." The cat nodded. "She serve. She serve new master… if master saves her life and sister."
I sighed. These pacts nowadays go both ways. It's worse when it's obtained through force and not funds. I'd rather not be forced on another quest to find another cat, but don't wish to kill this one. It's worse when there's twin souls. Cats born in a single litter are joint souls, nearly one and the same. Saving her means saving all souls tethered to hers. If it's only one's though maybe it's manageable.
I cupped my chin.
"Trishelle will help master. Support him… allow him to… visit at night." The cat dropped her chin down.
I winced.
The disgust rose up my spine from the thought. I don't know who it was that committed that act, and I don't care to meet a Mer of such poor tastes. I know that Khajiit and Altmer are compatible in a way, but such an act is... "No, that's not necessary. I will assist with finding this sister of yours." I reached into my knapsack and pulled out some parchment I bought in Riverwood. Never thought I'd use it for this. My magicka and blood from my clothing flowed into the paper creating the pact bound in the blood of both parties. I walked to the only table in the hall next to the fire to look it over. The cat limped behind me. "Place your mark at the bottom." I stepped back for her to do so.
The cat pressed a bloody thumb to the bottom sealing the deal. The runes glowed then rose up from the parchment and applied themselves to the blackened stripes on her coat, and finally I felt another set of emotions to be aware of for the foreseeable future within my mind. "Your name is no longer Trishelle. It's now Loren," I waved my hand over her forehead. The rune of the word became visible for a moment then faded away after receding into her. A name of honor belonging to the head servant.
"Yes yes. Loren understands," she accepted shiftly.
For a moment I stood in shock. How did came here and gain a servant? I came to this gods forsaken place for research and Vengeance not for servants, but the gods deemed my skills too insufficient to survive without one. I quickly took note of her bleeding wound covered by her paw. "Stand still." I said placing my hands against it. She did her best not to flinch from my touch. The silvery yellow light of restoration swirled around her body but focused on her side. The rest of my remaining magicka healed her wounds closed. "There." I stepped back. "How do you feel?"
Loren twisted her hips and rolled her shoulder. She looked upon me with shock. "Loren good master. Loren thank you."
"Thank me by telling me your story. What's a Khajiit doing here with these bandits?"
"Yes, Loren tell you anything master. Loren killed previous master. Previous master wanted to visit Loren's sister as well."
"You were in the right for that then. He deserved it." I waved for her to continue past that.
Again she looked upon me in surprise. "We ran after and moved around. We ended up here, in Skyrim. Bandits sold sister in Riften. Loren won in fighting pit and released from shackles."
Gladiatorial fighting is an excellent method to then the herd. I didn't state this though. "I can see your skill with a blade and throwing weaponry well."
"Loren taught herself. She watched and listened."
Such skill and no formal training. These fools had a priceless jewel in their midst. One that belongs to me now. "I've your first task then." I gestured out to the door out. "The rest of these bandits, how do you feel about them?"
"Loren cares nothing for those humans," I heard a tone of scorn in that response.
"Then I want you to kill all of them down to the last man. I want you to pillage their bodies, their valuables, and any weaponry and armor worth a sum. I want you to go to Riverwood to the Traveler's Shop and tell them I sent you."
"All of them?"
"Are you not confident you can?" I asked back. The cat looked unsure for a moment then nodded. "Good. Succeed and you'll be rewarded well."
"Yes… master." The cat bowed. I gave her permission to leave. She gathered her sword, another leather chest piece, and walked gracefully towards the door. I collected the contract and smirked. "Easier she kills them all over me. They know her and would never see it coming. Reston tilted his head questioning my actions.
"Let's go," I walked down the steps deeper into the ruin.
I found bandits further in and corpses as well. The soft magicka from the necromancy school spoke to me from the long dead corpses. The undead reside within this temple. A temple with a tomb underneath these bandits are attempting to raid and failing. I found signs of traps being tripped and killing or injuring many. None of them had the golden claw or dumner. Same goes for the bandits outside. Any dumner I did find I killed and checked their bodies. I past through the a few rooms with traps and puzzles within. Some completed and others not so much.
"Hurr," Reston whined softly.
"I know. There's something undead below us." We pressed on regardless. I flashed anything that moved from rats giant spiders, again. Skyrim and their damn spiders. I burned through the webbing into a large hall. A massive one dropped from the ceiling I set aflame burning it constantly. It back away from me hitting the walls. I didn't stop burning until I exhausted my magicka again. The spider was burnt and singed but still alive. I drew a sword from a bandit I borrowed and rushed the spider. I jumped up feeling my blood burst with heat and stabbed the sword down into its head. The spider cried for only a moment before it fell down dead. I let it keep the sword. Human made weapons are so poor in quality nowadays. If only I've my dwemer sword taken by those blasted imperials from my days in Vardenfell.
"H-hey!" I whirled around with my hands up, fire came alive in my palms. "Wait! Please don't, I'm trapped," a dunmer male stuck in webbing cried out.
So far he's the only dunmer I've seen since entering this place. I've silenced a few of the bandits and asked about my target and they all said he was deeper into the ruin. Finally, I've perhaps found him. "Arvel?" I questioned him with a monotone voice. I felt my blood freeze and hands slowly glide to my obsidian black knife.
"Y-Yes. That's my name," he confirmed my suspicions. The blood from my mother's side of the house began to beat against my rational mind. My heart beat grew so loud I couldn't hear my footsteps towards the cursed Mer of many over the drum of my heart spelling his doom. I remember well the connection I've held towards her out of all the "Good Daedra" despite that being a nonsensical phrase at best. It's the same as the curse that plagues my body allowing my form to remain stagnant in time itself before the "Fall of the False Gods" a few years before the Red Year. Every part of my soul told me to kill this fool, revel I the kill, and claim bloody retribution, but held back thankful for my father's blood.
"Good," I drew my knife and held it steady.
"H-hey!" I whirled around with my hands up, fire came alive in my palms. "Wait! Please don't, I'm trapped," a dunmer male stuck in webbing cried out.
So far he's the only dunmer I've seen since entering this place. I've silenced a few of the bandits and asked about my target and they all said he was deeper into the ruin. Finally, I've perhaps found him. "Arvel?" I questioned him with a monotone voice. I felt my blood freeze and hands slowly glide to my obsidian black knife.
"Don't move." I cut into the webbing cutting him loose. My magicka burned hot as the forges of th Ashen Forge to melt away the silking spider strands one at a time. Killing him in such a state is dishonest. No, he might pay whole few and not in bondage.
The dunmer breathed a sigh of relief as his extremities slowly became freed revealing a continuation of this ruin leading deeper in. The dark elf used the destruction school to generate the heat needed to melt away the rest of the spider silk from his Skyrim hide armor.
"Thank you stranger I…" I placed the knife to his neck ceasing any and all poisonous words from leaving the putrid tongue of his. I noticed something on his back wrapped in burlap. Something big. That didn't equate to what I had in mind now that I've found this foolish disgrace to Mer kind. Any of Mer whether man or elf whom commit acts of defilment towards those that incubate life deserve neither respect nor honor.
"Do you know a woman name Camilla Valeriusr, Arvel?" My heard voice turn hollow and my heart beat quickened further. Voices within my head commanded I'd end this. My target for vengeance is right here in front of me, but I have to ensure it's right.
"Uhh, no... No I don't." The dark elf said raising his hands up in a defensive manner.
He was lying. Even the fool Ralof would notice it, it was so apparent. Arvel rose his hands up slowly. "Look. Let me just… hah!" A ball of fire shotout his hands towards me. I dodged it, if barely, having expected it. You can never trust a dunmer. "You and that blasted woman can go to oblivion. I'm too close to be stopped."
BARK!
I grabbed Reston by the collar before he could rush after the fool. It's obvious what's past this threshold; traps and undead, and this fool is running right into it. "Stay next to me," I warned the Wolf. I can't have him running off like a wild animal despite being a wild animal. Reston's ears folded down; a show of surrender towards my will. I let him down and walked through the webbing after the fool. I turned the corner to find him on the ground bleeding out from multiple impal wounds on his body. The burlap flew to the side out of his reach. I grabbed it and opened into a golden claw. It was quite strange, not like any claw I've ever seen and I've been around. I've seen trolls, werewolves, and daedra but none of them was the template for this claw. Still, I've got the claw but no dragon slab yeg. If this tomb is anything like the others I've visited it's at the bottom of this tomb through undead and traps.
Nothing new, unfortunately.
The dunmer reached out towards me still clinging to life. "P-Please," he gasped barely clinging to life. "H-healing."
"Did you commit au'sul to Camilla Valerius?" I kneeled down to the dark skinned, red eyed fool like most of his kind cursed by Asura for their betrayal. I asked him to admit to his crime of defilement. The same that Loren suffered from her previous Altmer master. The dark elf coughed out blood and reached out desperately for my boot. "Answer me." I lifted my hand up. The light of Restoration glowed beautifully in the palm of my hand.
"Y-yes. Healing..." He begged and confirmed fulfilling what I need to claim proof of my concord. I pulled out my knife and grabbed his ear. The dark elf's screamed spitting out blood as I cut it off slowly. My mother's blood reveled in his screams of agony. I walked over his body ignoring his screams and curses. He'll die in due time. I refuse to dirty my hands by taking such an unworthy life. Let Morlag Bal have his student of Rape's soul.
I continued deeper into the ruin careful of the obvious pressure plates on the floor and trip wires. Draugr rose from their crypts and attack me. Reston stayed back out of fear of these unnatural things. More practice for my magicka.
I rested a bit after each fight sitting against the crypts for a time to restore my pool of mana. The undead continued raise from their crypts and I collected gold coins and other offerings I could use with each undead felled. I stabbed a Draugr in the head with my knife and another in the neck slamming it to the ground. Fire lit up the darkness of the tomb with each undead laid to permanent rest until I happened upon a door with a pedestal in the center.
"What's this?" I touched the top as the indents in too then to the door. The symbols on the door mirrored the ones in the claw.
"It can't be that easy."
I pushed the symbols in the sequence according to the claw then placed it on the pedestal. The claw receded into it's slots then back out. I heard a crack and before me the door opened.
"It was that easy."
I pat my dog over the head before walking in. The area was open, a mountain stream cut through the center. I walked careful not to slip and then I saw it. I could recognize the symbols on the wall from a distance knowing I've found it. The dragon wall with history and knowledge left undisturbed for centuries was before me. Perhaps I can learn more about dragons and Dullazin. Maybe the walls are all connect and once I find them all will obtain knowledge Hermaeus Mora would envy me for possessing.
I didn't run but galloped over towards the rock and up the stairs to the wall. Nothing else mattered as I placed my hands on the runes I couldn't read or understand outside of a few. I'm thankful that damn mage hadn't disposed of my notebook, my life's work, my spell tome, and future research book to join the rest in my family library. I dug for it quickly to get ready to work on translating. I touched the red/brown tome out of the bag with a black spine and runes in top. Only those of my blood can open this book or any other Blood-Work Tome every member holds. This one choose me with black daedric runes on the spine and cover.
"Heh Hah Huh!"
"What in the world?" I looked around for the voices I just heard. I've suffered trauma sure but never heard voices like this.
Bum bum… bum bum…
What sounded like drums began to resound in my ear next. The drum beat was so familiar. It reminded me of my pilgrimage to red mountain centuries ago. The chime I had would beat with a subtle rhythm in the air. I think I searched for it despite the sandstorm and heart to... I can't remember. What is going on?
I looked around to nothing but a crypt, a table, and my wolf sitting patiently nearby. Maybe I'm going insane after so many years diving into ruins. Hearing drums and grunting out of nowhere that seemed to grow louder the closer I grew to a section of the wall. The sounds of the drums vibrated deep into my being. It sounded so fierce and yet gentle, almost luk a heart beat. The chatting never stopped but grew louder as I inched closer to the right most end of the wall. I and stood aghast.
"What in the name of my ancestors is this," I gasped from what I was seeing. Part of the wall was glowing brightly and appears to be reaching out for me, if that's possible. I stepped a bit closer drawn in by the chant and the drums. They spoke to a part of me I never knew existed. Something deep and primal. A part of me foreign to me and yet so familiar. The tendrils of the word reached out and wrapped around me warmly. My vision blurred as a word etched itself in my thought forcing itself to the forefront.
FUS – Force
The drum beat, maybe heartbeat, slowly faded away taking with it the tribe like chanting. My vision clear leaving me frozen in place. A thousand thoughts went through my mind. What happened to me? What was that word? How can I understand these carvings and yet can't read them? It's like I've learned a language in moments without the capability to read it clearly. I touched more of the words in the wall and the mean of the words appeared in my mind.
Fire, rein. Dragon, claim. Force, mortals. Sun, serve. Rend, mortal. Defy, priest.
This was a breakthrough unlike anything I've ever experienced. I found myself not caring how or why but the fact I can is everything. I looked around for my notebook that disappeared from my hands and saw it behind me next to a stone kmcoffin. "I'll need you," I smiled. An actual smile of joy and anticipation for the first time since coming to this savage dirty land. I've the ability to understand the words of dragons, even possibly use them. The dragon word for Force branded itself into my mind sort of with the same sensation as a spell would.
Thuum – Voice
The Voice is what the Grey Beards call it. The way of the Voice. To command words of dragons and turn them into spells or effects. I read of Uldric Stormcloak learning how to use The Voice to kill a boy starting this war. If he can learn it, I can. Even more so with my ability to understand the words. I need to write this down.
BOOM!
The top of that stone coffin suddenly burst open. No that's putting it lightly. The lip flew off with great force flying of the coffin and falling a good distance away from the elevated theater housing the wall. I watched as a grey undead hand clawed into the sides of the stone pulling a large Draugr out of its crypt. It held a sword in hand that radiated a cold aura of frost enchantments. The Draugr wasn't anything like the undead I've disposed of to get here. Thus was more than flesh and brittle bones. This was a monster with power within the rotting flesh seldom compares to it's prime alive but still notable. The undead faced me, it's eyes glowed blue with rage, and it's sword tightened in its grip.
It leaned back, and I braced.
"Fus!" It roared. The power behind that word reverberated through the air causing the ceiling to creak from it's power. Something slammed into my body forcing me back and smashing me into the wall behind me. I braced using healing magicka before that force battered into my body. It was that same magicka that kept me awake. I caught myself him fully hitting the ground seeing stars and lines. My sense were consumed by that attack. I couldn't hear or smell anything.
What was that? Was that the power of the Voice? If so how can any mortal man survive that. Is this what Uldric Stormcloak did to that boy king? By the divines, is this the power of the dragons? The dragon before, as black as a moonless night, shouted and shifted the weather, destroyed a tower, and burned a fort down to the ground. It's voice did this then could anyone with the voice do the same? No, this power is too much in the hands of man and beast. I have to destroy this thing that can.
I looked up with clear vision to the Draugr above holding his sword ready to stab me. I rolled to the side evading it. The Draugr roared as I rolled to my feet. I flashed it with fire instantly but if cut through it and charge at me faster than the others. Not as much as the cat but enough to leave me stunned. I got some distance using flash bolt to slow it down. The undead leaned back and knew what was coming. I jumped behind the stone coffin.
"FUS!"
The force behind that word slammed into the coffin nearly knocking it off the theater. I rolled over the side and moved. Reston remained in his place unsure if what to do. I have him the command to stay and worked may way around. I ran up the stairs just as the undead looked over the edge for me. I rushed at him and stabbed him in the back with my knife and quickly backed away. Sparks flew into the knife directly into his body. The undead roared again but I think from pain, if that's possible. The draugr whirled around, his jaw crackled. I think I pissed him off. A stream of fire followed, anything to damage this undead enough to perform exorcism spell and for it to work. Using Turn Undead again after such a short time.
The draugr leaned back again. Again I drove to the side over the edge to the ground below.
"FUS!"
The power of the Voice shattered the stone above kicking up dust. My notebook even fell down and hit me over the head. "Hmm," I grumbled as I picked it up. "That one was weaker than the last," I muttered to myself. Reston barked at me giving me an idea. I touched minds and transferred my orders. Reston whined. "Don't worry, you're not going to get hurt. Just distract him." Reston let out a growl of displeasure. I smirked at the dog knowing he had no choice in the matter. He's next if I die. Reston barked and ran up to distract the draugr lord.
I looked towards the stars of destruction to give me the strength I need to preform thus next spell. I pushed again the wall and stood before the theater. Reston barked and slammed into the undead doing goof worth to draw attention. I took that time to ready my spell. A fireball is basic in terms of destruction Magicka, but to expand it's blast radius closer to apprentice level. Charging my remaining magicka in the palms of my hands, molding an orb as perfectly round as Red Mountain erupted nearly destroying Morrowind, and saying the correct incantations to enhance the blast radius and heat are all part of apprentice level destruction spells.
The draugr slashed at the Wolf clipping his leg and knocked him back. Reston limped over quickly down from the top of the tomb leaving only the undead. It turned to chase the dog until it saw me. Then it saw nothing but flame. I released my Flame Blast that collided with it. The blast was almost as powerful as the Voice shout it used before. A burning corpse shot back and hit the wall behind it. I rushed to Reston and healed his leg.
"Forgive me Reston. The spell took a little longer than I wished." My wolf rested his leg down then licked my face. He was grateful for my healing. With that finish I climbed up towards the tomb to check on my work. The undead was still moving if weakly. It crawled in the ground reaching for it's discarded sword. "Let's end this." I walked to the undead, both hand risen glowing with a purplish aura. The draugr gazed up towards the light in my palms. The spell worked instantly latching on to the soul within an undead shell. The light in its eyes faded and the spirit was finally put to eternal rest. It was over.
"Now, back to work," I smiled gazing up to the wall above.