Author's Note:
Dear all,
I hope you enjoyed the fun we had in Markarth. Well, it's not entirely over yet. There's still some aftermath to share ;)
For this chapter, another thanks to Rainpebble3 for her suggestion for a certain water-related venture :)
I hope you'll all enjoy the rest of the Markarth plotline and all that will follow.
Chapter XLIX – A Moment of Peace
Markarth was safe.
The grand city in the Reach was enjoying its moment of peace at last. At least the inhabitants were.
The Forsworn weren't ones to lay sieges, so there wasn't much structural damage. The city felt completely unprotected by manpower now though. There were wild rumors going around, but only a few people knew what really happened. Some saw automatons come to their defense and they swore that Julianos sent a divine intervention this way, whether or not the Dwemer even worshipped him or not, it didn't seem to matter. And some just felt the tremors throughout the city. They were too weak to do any damage, but they felt them. And they were convinced that Kyne herself brought the attackers to heel.
Some just knew. They saw their court wizard march through the streets, passing the automatons as if he was merely monitoring their progress.
Nobody actually talked about the rod, but that was probably only making things safer.
Who knew what could happen if someone else got a hold of that thing?
Bishop and Aeyrin spent the rest of the night and day recuperating. They returned to the Silver-Blood Inn, once it was finally accessible, and they just ate and slept. The atmosphere was still tense and worrisome there. It was for the best to let it pass. And it took a while for Aicantar to return with their things from the prison.
The next day started with bells sounding all across the city. And it made everyone nervous again. People were still so terrified.
But once everyone got out of their houses and the inn to see what was going on, they were all in for a pleasant surprise waiting for them on the market square.
"My dear citizens," Igmund beamed proudly at the crowd. There was Calcelmo standing by his side, one of the priestesses from the Temple of Dibella, as well as that Orc who had been threatening the workers outside of the mine. Strange. "We have all been through very unexpected turmoil and I am sorry that our city was not prepared as it should have been. We were attacked from the inside and the outside and we were not ready for a threat this united. I will not lie to you, most of our trained men fell in this attack, though the civilian casualties were minimal. We are waiting for reinforcements from the capital, but that process will take time. But you can all rest easy. You are no longer in danger."
The people began to murmur amongst each other. The blood from the streets was barely washed off. How could Igmund promise safety when he had no army of guards to provide it with?
"Markarth had always been… a unique city. And our beloved court wizard Calcelmo worked hard to figure out a way to protect it from outside threats, be it the rebels taking our forts, the barbarians with their surprise attacks, or anything else that may come."
All eyes were on Calcelmo in a moment. He merely wore that smug smile of his as he puffed out his chest. It was no wonder. He had a reason to be proud.
"Some of you may have seen it already, but Calcelmo figured out how to control the automatons of Nchuand-Zel. We will not threaten the streets with experimental magic, but… if a threat comes to Markarth, you may all rest assured, that we will never be helpless," Igmund continued his speech and people began to clap in response, some enthusiastically, some more warily. Of course, people were usually wary of the Dwemer constructs.
"For this amazing discovery," Igmund continued. "I award Calcelmo with the insignia of the Divine Bloom," he nodded to the priestess. "The highest honor our city, and the Church of Dibella watching over it, may dedicate to its citizens."
The priestess revealed a long necklace she had been carrying. It was hard to see, but it had a large golden medallion dangling from it, beset with colorful gems. She delicately approached Calcelmo and stood on her tiptoes to be able to drape it over his head.
"And since my dear friend refused the thaneship I offered him," Igmund smirked. "I am more than happy to extend this offer to overseer Mulush. As you all know, the Silver-Blood family was a prime target for the Forsworn attackers and… overseer Mulush is currently the highest-ranking employee of the Silver-Blood holdings. For this reason, and for the continued prosperity his hard work brought the city, I am more than happy to extend this offer to him. We will be working together tirelessly to organize the Silver-Blood fortune and ensure that none of you lose your jobs and livelihoods."
"It's an honor, my Jarl," the Orc bowed a little.
"The honor is mine, Thane Mulush," Igmund nodded and people around began to clap and cheer once more. Hopefully this Orc would not be that bad once he didn't have to listen to the Silver-Bloods. And the people seemed happy to still have their jobs.
"Now, please, go back to your homes, enjoy the reclaimed safety of our streets, celebrate to your heart's content," Igmund smiled warmly. "We are free from the threats and we need our city to live again."
The crowd cheered once more and Aeyrin and Bishop looked at each other at last. That seemed to be it. The horrible assault was really entirely over. The Forsworn got chased off by a rod. They would likely not try again anytime soon after all they'd seen.
And Igmund didn't really have a bad idea there.
Celebrating surviving this shitstorm was an excellent suggestion.
…
Aeyrin and Bishop weren't the only ones who took Igmund's words to heart.
The Silver-Blood Inn was even livelier than usual. Everyone seemed placated by the Jarl's speech. Or at least calmed down a little. And now, after being locked up in their homes in fear, they were all ready to enjoy life again.
And the two of them were going to use this opportunity too. They'd been in prison only for several days, but even that was too much.
They needed to let off some steam.
The mead and wine flowed long into the evening. Not just for the two of them – for everyone.
And eventually, the rowdiness of the crowd got a little overwhelming for their drunken minds. They needed some fresh air. It was better than holing themselves up in their room and trying to drown out the noise. Besides, it was so nice not to be locked up anywhere. The open air, the night sky, that was perfection.
Bishop and Aeyrin left the inn each with a bottle of mead in their hands. They were already pretty drunk, but neither of them wanted to stop just yet. It was so nice to chase off the memories of their ordeal with some alcohol, especially since yesterday they managed to recuperate fully with additional healing for Aeyrin's slash on her back and all the food they could stuff themselves with.
They could just enjoy tonight with no worries whatsoever.
It was a rare sight.
The streets of Markarth were entirely empty. The citizens were all holed up inside, celebrating or enjoying the peace. Or maybe they were all still too wary of walking outside with no guards around. There really were none in the vicinity. The Jarl sent a few to guard the gates and the rest was in the Keep and the treasury, guarding the gold and the important people.
It seemed so peaceful.
They walked up the streets just like two days ago – across the market, by the treasury and towards the Keep.
"This is… so fucking weird," Bishop slurred his words a little before he took another swig from his bottle. "Whole fuckin' city just… empty."
"I like it," Aeyrin mused. She decided to ignore all the memories of why the city was so empty. She just focused on the blessed quiet and on the soft hum of the water around them and the beautiful shine of the stars above.
She drank up the rest of her bottle in a few more swigs, but she didn't toss it aside yet. She walked over to one of the streams nearby, where the water trickled down through the city from a small waterfall, through the shallow grooves, glistening in the moonslight.
She stepped onto the narrow ledge around the groves and started to balance herself on it, walking forth towards the small waterfall. What even was behind it? It didn't look like there was a wall. But it was too dark for her to see it.
As she concentrated on the water, her head became a bit more dizzy in her inebriation and she wavered, losing balance. She barely saw Bishop reach out to her, but he was way off the mark with his own senses impaired.
And soon, she found herself sitting flat on her backside in the shallow water, having it trickle around her. A soft dull ache reverberated through her from the impact. And the fall was accompanied by the sound of glass shattering as her hand landed on the small ledge, making the bottle break.
Bishop's chuckle rang through the open streets, but he outstretched his hand to her to help her out promptly.
First she let go of the glass shards and then examined her hand. There didn't really seem to be any blood on it and it didn't hurt. Good. She wanted to grab Bishop's hand and hoist herself up, but suddenly a thought entered her head and she withdrew.
"No," she shook her head.
"What? Come on, you'll get wet," Bishop chuckled. She was already wet, but she would get wetter.
"Nope. I was… I was haple… helpless for five days… or so. I don't wanna anymore," she pouted. "I can do it myself." She tried to hoist herself up but her hand slipped in the water, so instead, she rolled herself on all fours. She wasn't sure if she could balance herself like that, but if she got close to the stone walls by the waterfall, she could use them to get herself up on her feet. She could do this all alone.
"Hey! Where are you goin'?" Bishop's eyes widened at her as she began to crawl on all fours through the watery stream.
Aeyrin didn't answer and he didn't really think about it. He finished his own drink and tossed the bottle away before he stepped into the stream too in order to chase after her. He didn't really consider that it would be this fucking slippery.
He plopped down instantly, only barely managing to outstretch his hands so that he wouldn't fall flat on his face. Aeyrin was still in front of him though, crawling forth until she reached the waterfall. She stopped there.
She stared at the water for a while. There was really no wall back there. In fact, there was an alcove. She had no idea why. But now she needed to explore.
She let the cold water wash over her entire body as she crawled through the waterfall. The stream wasn't very strong, so it was more pleasant than anything. And then she found herself in a tiny cramped space in between the small walls. She knew there were stairs on each side of this place and a stone platform above her, but why was this thing hollow?
Maybe it was for secrets! Maybe people hid things here behind the waterfall.
Oh! There was a round closed metal cover on the stone ground. There was only a small layer of water on it, of course, only splashes from the waterfall and such – the stream was downhill from here, so this wasn't a grate of any kind.
Besides, it had no holes in it. It was just a solid round metal disc embedded in the stone ground.
Maybe a secret entrance? Was it possible? Maybe into some ancient Dwemer treasury or…
"What are you doing here?" Some water splashed her as Bishop crawled in after her. Now they were really stuffed in that small cramped space, but he didn't seem deterred as he positioned himself somewhat clumsily there against her.
"I was curious," she grinned. "I thought there was wall. There's no wall."
"Whazzat?" Bishop knocked on the disc a bit, but it did nothing, of course.
"I think it's a secret Dwemer hide… hidey-hole," Aeyrin beamed.
"Heh. Alright. Sure," Bishop chuckled at her. She was cute when she got excited about secrets and exploration. So fucking cute.
And she was so fucking cute when her cheeks were flushed like this from the booze. He was so glad he could still kinda see it from the starlight and moonslight reflected on the waterfall covering one of the walls.
Bishop leaned in towards her, smooshing her against the stone wall, and he captured her lips in his promptly. She let out a muffled moan and tried to make enough room for her hand to drape around his neck and the other one to tangle in his wet hair.
The space was really limited, but it was only more exciting. Aeyrin was tangled up in his embrace without even trying, her breasts pressing against his chest and her arms enveloping him in a tight hug. Bishop promptly adjusted himself so that he could sneak his hand in between them and squeeze her breast. He didn't break the kiss for a second, probing her mouth with his tongue eagerly and pressing himself onto her as much as the space allowed. It was actually more of an impossibility to stay apart in that cramped alcove.
But that was hardly a bad thing.
Aeyrin's leg was stuck in between his in that position and she didn't need much encouragement to get into the same mood. Her thigh pressed firmly against his crotch in a second, rubbing his half-hard cock through their wet clothes. They were both entirely soaked from sneaking through the small waterfall and their clothes clung to them uncomfortably. But they could always get rid of them.
Her hands snuck below the hems of his shirt, feeling around his firm abdomen for a moment before she tried to drag the shirt up along his chest. Bishop stopped the passionate kisses and squeezes of her breasts only for a moment, but the second he tried to raise his hands up to let her take his shirt off, he realized it was not exactly possible. Aeyrin was pinned against one of the walls and he was up against her with barely any room to move. He couldn't get the shirt off without smothering her with the wet cloth and he couldn't raise his hands higher due to the low ceiling either.
Aeyrin noticed the predicament soon and so she just left his shirt be. It was wet enough to stick to his chest like this, so at least she could still touch his bare cold skin on his stomach. She really wanted to touch him. It was never the same to feel up those muscles under clothes.
Bishop decided not to waste his time with the same efforts and he moved his hands straight to the hem of her trousers. He began dragging them down her hips with some difficulty, given the soft wet leather clinging to her, but he managed to get it down enough for her to raise herself on her legs a bit, pressing with her thigh onto his cock so excruciatingly firmly in the process. She raised her buttocks, urging him to continue, and he promptly dragged the rest of the fabric, along with her undergarments, down and to her thighs. Now he really needed to reposition himself. This cramped space was making shit so much more difficult than he had expected.
He pulled back from her and spread her legs as much as the clothes bunched up at her knees allowed. Aeyrin reached out for him in the meantime to start untangling the fastenings on his trousers. It didn't take long after that. Bishop ended up pressing his cock against her slit as they both stayed there in a somewhat contorted position. By now, Bishop began to finally drag her shirt out of the way as well, pulling it up until it bunched up right above her breasts. He really wanted to touch those without the wet obstruction.
His hands enveloped her wet breasts and fingers teased her nipples when he slid his cock down to her opening. Aeyrin let out a lascivious moan that only encouraged him to act fast. He buried himself inside her in one swift movement, eliciting another moan from her while he groaned in satisfaction. They barely spent any time on any foreplay and he still felt like he had been waiting for this moment for ages. The heat of their union was an exciting contrast to how cold their skins were from the water. They were still both very wet and the waterfall continued to spray small droplets on them constantly. But none of that mattered or bothered them at that moment.
Bishop leaned in for another deep kiss, sliding his tongue against hers eagerly while he continued playing with her breasts. Aeyrin didn't stay idle either. Her inner muscles tightened around his cock with each thrust and her hands continued to feel up his firm abs. Her cold fingers sent tingles down his spine.
The small space did not allow him for much maneuvering, so his thrusts remained shallow and a little clumsy, but he more than made up for it with his eagerness. The heat in Aeyrin's core felt almost unbearable at times as Bishop continued to thrust into her while playing with her tongue and breasts.
Soon she felt his cock throb and engorge even more within her. It was hitting all the right places and the way Bishop pinned her body, her crotch kept pressing against his skin, rubbing her from the outside and in. She couldn't take much more. And the alcohol also made her a little more excitable. She let out a loud moan and shuddered against him. And just as the knot unraveled and her peak barely began, Bishop buried himself inside her to the hilt and bit into her shoulder. She felt the warmth of his release inside her while her insides still pulsated and squeezed around him. Bishop returned to kiss her again during that, and all her moans got not only drowned out by the noise of the waterfall but also muffled by his lips enveloping hers and his tongue probing her deeply.
They stayed locked like that for a while, but the kiss gradually turned much more lazy. In the end, Bishop withdrew from her and rested his head on her shoulder instead with a deep satisfied groan. He still seemed reluctant to move otherwise.
Aeyrin's head leaned back against the cold wall of the alcove. It took her a while before she could actually think about their surroundings. She was half-undressed, with her shirt pulled above her breasts and her trousers pulled down almost to her knees. Bishop couldn't really get fully between her legs like this, so when he rested on her, he was only pressing the stretched leather onto her skin. Or maybe his own skin more, since his hands were still on her breasts.
Her head moved to the side and she gazed at the shimmering waterfall. It was no longer illuminated only by the stars and the moons. Now she saw different colors distorted behind it. The first rays of the morning sun.
"Damn, is it already light out? How long did we fuck?" Bishop chuckled merrily. Only now she noticed he was looking in the same direction while his head still rested on her shoulder. "Damn, I'm good."
"Alright, calm down, stud. I think it was really late when we started already," she smirked. It definitely wasn't that long. And she wasn't that drunk that she wouldn't remember. But she still felt quite buzzed though. Pleasantly so.
After the heated moment though, the wet clothes and the water spraying on their bodies began to feel quite unpleasant. And really cold. Aeyrin felt goose bumps pop up on her skin and she shivered a bit. Her ass was still a little submerged in the small amount of water there below them and she was starting to crave feeling dry once more.
Bishop definitely sensed her uneasiness, or maybe he felt the same, because he withdrew from her at last and began to quickly pull up his trousers and readjust his shirt again.
He was done within a second and he crawled out of the alcove promptly. She needed a bit more space to dress herself again.
The falling water enveloped him once more before he could finally get out and drag himself up on his feet using the stone wall. Aeyrin was not far behind.
Now they were standing in the same empty streets they had been before. Only this time, they were completely soaked and both wore a satisfied smile on their faces.
"We should… probably get out of the clothes…" Aeyrin let out a soft sigh, but the smile remained on her face.
"Definitely," Bishop winked at her. They should continue this in their room. He didn't feel like he was done with her tonight. Or today.
But before they could as much as head out down towards the inn, a sound suddenly interrupted the quiet scene.
It was… the bells. Again. Was it another announcement from the Jarl? That was probably not it – it was barely daybreak. Why would he make one so early? People were probably mostly asleep at this time.
That could only mean one other thing though.
Those were warning bells.
"What's happening?" Aeyrin narrowed her eyes and looked around carefully. Nothing was happening. Was it more Forsworn? Would they really try this again?
Soon, a different familiar sound rang through the area, resonating in a seeping chime that followed a soft rumble.
"Was that the rod?" Bishop scowled. Well, this served to sober him up a bit. Shit was going down again. But what?
A pair of heavy armored footsteps finally echoed behind them as two guards ran from the Keep. Calcelmo wasn't with them, but he might have been right behind them, just waiting for his automatons to reach him from below the depths of the ruins.
"Hey! Come with us!" The guards called out to Bishop and Aeyrin the second they noticed them. They had panicked looks on their faces and they didn't stop for a second as they rushed down towards the market, but they still seemed intent on involving the two of them.
Why again? What was going on? Was it really the Forsworn again?
Bishop and Aeyrin merely shared a brief look before they rushed after them. And then, when they moved past the giant cliff upon which the Temple of Dibella perched and when they could finally see beyond the city gates and over the horizon, they saw it.
There was something flying straight towards Markarth with determination. Two somethings, actually.
"What the fuck?" Bishop sputtered in disbelief. Were there dragons really flying towards Markarth? Markarth? What was it with everyone trying to attack the most secure fucking place ever? That city was all stone! What did those things expect to do here exactly?
"The city is weakened… they came to finish the job," Aeyrin noted in a hushed voice. They'd seen it before at Fort Sungard – the dragon appeared after the battle to get rid of the remaining people there. To claim all the souls for Alduin, right?
Did they see the empty streets? Did they deem Markarth weak enough to get attacked?
The dragons really didn't change direction and they flew steadily forth. Aeyrin and Bishop were stopped dead for a moment in spot in their surprise, but soon, they continued to chase after the guards. It was clear now why the two of them had been called to help too.
And there were already others waiting in the market. But… not many. Only three. There were five guards in total to guard the city. At least every civilian was inside, but for how long? How long could the dragons use this opportunity to devastate an actual city instead of a helpless small village?
"Thank the Divines you're still in the city! Wait…" one of the guards gave them a startled look. "Why are you all wet?"
"And drunk. Don't forget 'drunk' too," Bishop proclaimed proudly with a grin.
"Fan-fucking-tastic," a guard woman scoffed at them.
"Easy. Nobody could have seen this coming," another guard shook her head. "We never saw it coming. Dragons don't attack cities, do they?"
"One attacked Morthal before. And two attacked Dawnstar quite recently," the first man scowled promptly.
"But… but Markarth?" She sputtered. Everyone seemed to be in the same state of disbelief about this. It was shocking enough that the Forsworn were daring enough to do this. It was hard to imagine anyone or anything else having the guts.
"Never mind 'why'. What do we do here? Is there enough of us? Shouldn't we go man the battlements and try to shoot them down?" Another guard questioned.
"Calcelmo's on his way, he's just waiting for his… uhm… he said 'ballistai' or 'ballistei' or such. Just… ballistas I guess. I don't know what it means in Dwemer terms," one of the guards that ran from the Keep pointed out.
"Good. Go shoot those things before he gets here then," one of the women nodded before her eyes went to Bishop and Aeyrin. "You… you're unarmed. What do you need to do to… kill it?"
"Uhm… nothing," Aeyrin shrugged uncertainly, her clothes squelching a bit in the motion. "I just gotta be near." She didn't voice her main concern though. There were two dragons. Two! She was worried about surviving one every time, but two in close succession? Would she be able to withstand it?
"Alright. Stay safe. I don't know if you have time to go geared up. Calcelmo will be here sooner, probably," the woman nodded.
Good. It might be easier to handle when she wasn't exhausted from a fight. She was already a little tired from the night, and still a bit drunk. And everyone seemed to just rely on Calcelmo fully now.
It was no wonder though. He single-handedly saved everyone. And he would surely do so again, wouldn't he?
The dragons were getting too close, but clanking metallic sounds accompanied the sudden roar in the distance. Finally. While the majority of the guards ran towards the towers leading to the battlements, two remained behind and looked back towards the source of the noise along with Bishop and Aeyrin.
Calcelmo looked just as impressive as the day of the Forsworn attack. He walked through the empty streets with his head held high proudly and the wondrous rod in his hand. There were four automatons marching behind him. Bishop and Aeyrin actually recognized these soon. They had encountered one of these in Irkngthand. It was ridiculously deadly. It was… perfect to pierce a dragon's scales and maybe even bones. It pierced stone as if it was butter before!
That was what they meant by 'ballistas'. Bishop did mention before, when they encountered this thing, that it 'packed like a ballista'. Apparently he was right on the nose with that comparison. Or maybe Calcelmo just made the same connection in his head.
Calcelmo stopped after a while and he started to rush around a small area, banging his rod against the ground and creating more light tremors and chiming sounds. First, he did that on top of a staircase leading into a house. Then he rushed to the lower level of the street and did it by the stream. Next one was some distance in the back and then, for the last one, it was clear he was headed on top of the bridge crossing the upper levels.
The people who remained down below only watched him, but while all that was happening, both dragons reached the battlements and began fighting the archers. One of the beasts spewed that strange green acid at one, and much to their surprise, some of it actually spilled on the roof of the tower and began seeping through the thick Dwemer metal of the roof. And one guard got caught in that stream.
The other dragon was using flames, which at least the metal was resilient enough against. But not the people.
"Bordir!" One of the guards on the ground level yelped when she saw the acidic disaster. The other one had different concerns though. The man was dead quickly, it seemed. But the way the acid bore through the sturdy metal was more than troubling.
"That tower has our equipment!"
"Calcelmo! The metal's melting!" Aeyrin called out to the mage who only now banged his rod for the fourth time. He seemed completely absorbed in his own thing and he didn't seem to be paying attention to the battle at all. They needed a mage who could freeze that acid. And once more, Aeyrin was cursing herself for her lycanthropy. She could have helped if it wasn't for that.
"A moment, my friend!" Calcelmo called out. All his ballistas were in the designated spots where he had banged his rod. Now that he seemed to be 'set up' he banged the rod against the stone ground four more times in quick succession and then he swished it to have it point at one of the dragons in one fluid motion.
That did it. The ballistas promptly shot a metallic bolt, all four of them in unison, towards the flying beast. One got it in its head, the other in a wing and two went into its torso. The dragon didn't just roar. It got flung through the air in the impact. It was thrown across the sky and it promptly toppled to the ground. They couldn't see what happened to it beyond the battlements though.
Calcelmo wasted no more time. He did the exact same thing – four bangs and a swish, and he aimed at the second dragon – the one still spewing acid. In fact, now it seemed to realize its effects and it began to spew it on top of the Silver-Blood inn. Was it going to melt the roof? Would the acid fall onto the people there then?
The ballistas made the shot again and it struck true. The dragon got hit right between its eyes, in its maw, and twice in the belly too. It almost got flung as well, but it flapped its wings wildly with mighty roars escaping its maw as it tried to keep itself in the air. The remaining two guards on the battlements never gave it a break though and they continued piercing it with their arrows.
The dragon remained above the battlements, but now it could only roar.
And a moment later, it fell.
It tumbled onto the battlements, then rolled down onto the ground, crushing several market stalls in the process. But it appeared dead. Maybe the other one was too.
Calcelmo had no more orders for his ballistas and it seemed like he finally noticed the disaster waiting to happen.
Aeyrin and Bishop did not pay much attention to what was happening the moment the dragon's body began to shine in a familiar light. Still soaked through and through, Bishop pulled Aeyrin into his arms, his wet clothes squelching against hers a he held her tightly. There were two dragons. He still had no idea if the other one was dead.
He barely noticed the stream of frost above his head. Some of it fell down on him, but those were only small shards of ice that did no harm. The important thing was that Calcelmo was saving the roof of the inn from the acid.
And then, as Aeyrin was already clutching him with her eyes closed firmly, he noticed it.
There was a form trying to take off behind the battlements. Fuck. It was still not dead. Bishop had a dilemma. Would he leave the dragon to tangle with the guards before he alerted Calcelmo, giving Aeyrin a breather between the two absorptions, or should he tell the mage now?
What if she couldn't take two at once?
Bishop stayed silent, and he clutched her closer, but much to his utter relief, the form was actually gaining more distance on them. It was flying funny – it had its wing wounded after all, and it merely flew away from Markarth. Was it any wonder after this shit?
Soon there was even more confusion and happenings as the light from the dead dragon's soul sprung towards Aeyrin. It was such a familiar thing, but it never failed to frighten him. She let out a gut-wrenching shriek and she clutched him so tightly it almost hurt. Her face went pale – almost green – and he knew that it was the acid stuff that made her sick. In the meantime, he only noticed a few people gathering around the two of them.
"I… I'll go call the priestesses," one of the guards stammered a bit when he saw the state Aeyrin was in. She was shivering and whimpering in Bishop's arms and she had never probably seemed so pale. The screaming stopped at least though.
"She's alright… I think," Bishop sighed. Though it was never a bad thing to have a priest on hand in case she passed out. "This happens every time." It was weird that he still had to explain this to people. He felt like so many had seen this happen before that it must have become common knowledge by now. But clearly that was not the case.
"Are you sure? I'd still rather…" the guard inclined his head upwards towards the temple above them. Yeah, fine. It was for the best.
"Go. Always good to take precautions," Bishop nodded and the guard promptly ran off. It wouldn't take long now. He stroked over Aeyrin's wet hair, but her whimpering had already stopped. She would regain consciousness soon. In the meantime, his eyes went to the sky for a moment to watch Calcelmo's stream of frost above him, still spraying the roof. It was an oddly mesmerizing sight.
"What if the other dragon returns?" Another guard piped up with a worried expression on her face.
"I don't think so. Not after this," Bishop shook his head. Aeyrin was already opening her eyes slowly and in confusion, but he kept her pressed tightly into his arms through it. "From what we've seen and heard, they're looking for places where they can slaughter people with the least opposition. They may have thought Markarth is weakened. Maybe they saw the empty streets and battlements. They didn't see this coming though." He smirked a little. That fucking showed those bastards.
"You make them sound so… smart," the woman scowled promptly.
"They are smart, you dolt," another guard scoffed at her. "They're the children of Akatosh. They have their own language that has magical power and they enslaved humans. They're smarter than you."
"Not smarter than the Dwemer though," someone else chuckled. "And we have those on our side."
Bishop nodded, but he couldn't help but get a little uncomfortable at all this. Sure, Calcelmo was fucking impressive with that rod of his. But how could he use it like this? How did he understand it? Did he? Or did he find the 'commands' through trial and error? How long before he did something wrong and these unstoppable machines targeted someone other than who he meant to target?
By then, Aeyrin seemed to get back to her bearings, but she didn't speak. Oh. That wasn't a good sign. She was still really pale. And a moment later, she frantically pulled herself away from Bishop's arms and stumbled towards the inn's wall. She leaned her arm on it and lowered her head before the sounds of gagging and retching filled the area.
"This also happens every time?" One of the guards asked Bishop in concern.
"With the acid shit. Yeah," he sighed.
"Wait… what? Is it like… different types of dragons? Like atronachs?" Another guard questioned him. They had so many questions. Bishop understood that, but he was hardly that invested in answering them all. Well, just quickly then.
"No. They Shout. It was a Shout and now she feels its effects, kind of. It's… complicated," he retorted. He ignored the guards after that and walked over to Aeyrin, placing a comforting hand on her back. At least she was alive and didn't pass out.
Time passed in a strange silence before more people appeared in the area. There was the guard with the priestess, who instantly rushed towards Aeyrin to check on her, and then there was Calcelmo. He was clearly done taking care of the acid. And another resonating chime and tremor sent his ballistas back towards the Keep.
"That was… that was two?" Aeyrin's voice was hoarse and quiet when she finally spoke. By now she was sitting on the ground, some distance away from where she got sick, and she let the priestess hover around and check on her vital signs. The woman did manage to throw nasty glares at Bishop in the meantime though. Was this about the robbery that Hroki talked about?
"No. Just one. The other one flew off," Bishop explained. It was really fortunate. At least he was pretty sure of it. "No wonder. Those ballistas of yours pack a fucking punch, Calcelmo. We've dealt with one before. Nearly did us in. And that was just one."
"'Ballistae'," Calcelmo corrected him with a proud smile.
"Whatever. Who cares?" Bishop snorted. He knew what he meant.
"They are impressive," the mage nodded thoughtfully. "So was this though," he inclined his head towards Aeyrin.
"I just stood there and screamed…" she gave him a little self-disparaging chuckle. But then again, Calcelmo could say he 'just' stood there banging a rod too.
"You seem fine," the priestess interrupted their conversation briefly. "Your heartbeat is very fast, but not fast enough for me to be concerned. The nausea passes on its own?"
"Yeah," Aeyrin nodded. It always did. It just sucked for a while.
"What does happen there, exactly?" Calcelmo studied her with almost the same intensity he studied Dwemer creations with. Then again, nothing could match that enthusiasm. But it was somewhat close.
"It's… complicated. I guess… I guess I can try to explain but…" There was no harm in explaining the soul and will processes of absorptions to the mage after all. But her clothes and hair were soaked, she was feeling very sick, still a tiny bit drunk, and really cold and exhausted.
"You rest, friends. I trust that the dragons will think twice about returning now. And it's my hope that word of what happened here will spread far and wide," Calcelmo nodded thoughtfully.
"Nobody will ever mess with us again, Master Calcelmo!" One of the guards clapped excitedly. It was probably true. And word would definitely spread soon, once Markarth's people were brave enough to walk out of the city once more.
Two dragons and the only casualties were three guards. It was unfortunate in either case and it was a little odd how excited everyone was despite the lives lost. But things could have been much more dire. And it was quite possible that most of them were just… desensitized after the Forsworn attacks. It's been almost like a strange haze.
And when the city needed to heal, this happened.
But it was true – once everyone knew about Calcelmo's Dwemer army, nobody would ever mess with them.
Or maybe people would think it was worth it to try and pry this insane power out of the mage's hands. Was anyone ever guaranteed safety?
Still, maybe now they could get a real moment of peace.
One that did not need to end in another looming danger.