Cura sat at the edge of her bed and spied a book with no proper cover on the end table. She wondered who could have left it there at first. She decided that it could be an interesting find, given the lack of other books around. She swept some residual dust off of the cover and cracked the book open. The spine nearly broke off of its holding due to its lack of use over a very long period of time. The pages within were yellow and rotted, and the ink had long since faded, but yet, the letters were visible still.
"Dremora Stories About Mortals
Collected by Skald Helgnea
A collection of tales as told by Dremora about Mortals
Dremora view mortals in a rather disparaging light. That should come as a surprise to no one. Most view us with some level of contempt. If we're lucky, that hatred can be overshadowed by curiosity, but such is not always the case. However, I find their viewpoints (varied and widespread as the Dremora themselves) quite fascinating. During my time in Fargrave, I set out to collect accounts of various Dremora to see what exactly it was they thought about those of us from Nirn. Oddly enough, I found quite a number of far-fetched beliefs and stories throughout my search. Stories repeated by many mouths, each more ridiculous than the last. It's a folklore of sorts. I collected the most prevalent (and admittedly, my favorites) for this anthology.
THE GLUTTONOUS TRAVELER
Certainly the most overwhelmingly popular story was of a mortal of unknown origin who arrived in Fargrave seeking the strange delicacies of Oblivion. Daedra do not need to eat. The necessity of such an act is seemingly looked down upon. Some are curious, of course. There is no shortage of food in places such as Fargrave to delight the interested mortal.
This mortal, however, could not be sated. As the story goes, he made his way through Fargrave, one meal at a time. He did not chew. He merely unhinged his jaw, his mouth opened wide as a clannfear's, and he shoveled the food in. Those who were present (of which I have not heard any firsthand accounts) say that he ate everything in each establishment. Shelves and stores were left empty in his wake. Just as soon as he'd exhausted the supplies of one establishment, he would move to the next and gorge himself there.
Soon, he began to accumulate a following. Daedra and mortals alike came to watch the mortal with the endless hunger. Soon, the mortal began to sweat and moan. His pants split. His tunic tore as his stomach bulged. He had eaten everything in sight, but it had clearly taken its toll. The mortal leaned back in his chair and promptly fell asleep. Nothing and no one could wake him for days and his snores could be heard for many streets away.
THE FRAGILE KHAJIIT
Another story that runs through Daedric circles concerns a hapless Khajiit named J'zaru. Whether or not this Khajiit actually existed is hardly the point. Given the wide amount of variation in this particular story, I doubt that J'zaru was real. Or if she was, she was only one aspect of this story that has been embellished upon since then. Perhaps J'zaru is many people, condensed into one character.
As the story goes, J'zaru came from Nirn wanting grand adventure. Though, as soon as she arrived, she was accosted by a particularly pugnacious Scamp. The Scamp tore J'zaru's cloak to shreds and stole the rations which she had brought with her. An injury she sustained during the scuffle then developed an infection which rendered her blind. After that, she contracted the Drain and her mind turned to mush.
There's not much more to the story, actually. I'm not really sure why the Daedra insist on telling it so often.
THE KINDNESS OF MORTALS
Kindness is a trait looked down upon by most Daedra. Some consider the very concept to be an insult, and they view those who wield such a trait to be weak. As such, there are a few stories that move about Daedric circles that poke fun at mortal kindness. My favorite is about a nameless Argonian who went to the Sever to study the lightning storms. She encountered many Daedra during her travels, and was kind to each and every one of them.
Unfortunately, she was scorned at every turn. Some quite literally spat in her face when she showed them kindness. Others laughed. One particularly disgruntled Dremora threatened to make a necklace from her tail. But even still, this Argonian was undeterred. Word eventually spread about the hapless fool and soon enough, there were droves waiting to take advantage of her amicable nature.
Someone asked for all of her gold, just to see if she would give it to them. The Argonian did, and was not even angry when the Daedra ran off with it without another word. Another mean-spirited bystander pretended to be accosted by a pack of fiendroths. The Argonian valiantly charged in to save them, only to be mocked mercilessly by the supposed victim once she arrived. There are many other tales of the injustices she suffered for simply being kind, but even still, she was undeterred!
Now, if this were a story from Nirn, one might expect this to have a happy ending. There would be some lesson woven into the words. Something about how kindness always prevails, and how tenacity is a great strength. However, most Daedra are uninterested in such stories. No secret benefit to kindness exists for the Daedra.
The kindly Argonian eventually ran into a Skaafin who she assumed was in need of aid. She called out, "Hello there! Are you all right?" The Skaafin, immediately sensing a vulnerable target, wailed pitifully and complained that he'd hurt his leg. But when the Argonian neared, the Skaafin jumped to his feet and descended upon her.
There are many different versions of the end of this story. Most are quite gruesome. The fate of the kindly Argonian is tragic across the board, and perhaps I shall just leave it at that. I think the moral here is quite plain. If you happen to make your way to the Deadlands, be kind to no one."
Cura closed the book. Well, that explained quite a lot, now didn't it? Why the innkeeper was so cold, and why Madena was reclusive. It also explained why the Dremora Rynkyus wants to fight her. She would have to prove her strength. She was no gentle Argonian woman, so she knew she could defend herself against most threats.
But could she, being no longer a Dragonborn? Could she truly fight against that powerful Dremora alone? She'd better keep her wits about her. She was in the land of the dead, but surely that didn't mean she couldn't die twice.
She hopped off the old bed and headed downstairs. She passed the front doors, cutting past a couple of Dremora as she stepped out onto the courtyard.
Rynkyus was waiting there for her, and various Dremora and Men and Mer were onlookers along the sides. Madena was among them, as was Faltonia, who capitalized by selling drinks to bystanders.
Wretched Spire was very much alive. This must have been the first exciting thing they've seen in centuries. They seemed cold and distant in their intrigue, as if they were only partially present. Cura couldn't help but pity the forsaken denizens of Wretched Spire. They'd forgotten what it was like to be human after dwelling in this cesspit for centuries and centuries more.
People sat against the crag walls and near the dilapidated buildings, waiting for her to get in the ring with Rynkyus.
Noroth, a Dunmer, looked at Cura as she entered the scene. "You're a new face here. I hope you don't make things more complicated."
"Not for me to say." Cura shrugged as she continued past him.
The town's mayor, Faven Indoril, glared at her with distrust. "Another stray piece of refuse has stumbled into our town, I see. At least you're not a Scamp or some other horrid creature. Well, welcome to Wretched Spire, apparent home to all of the Deadlands' castoffs. Why have you come?"
"Because it's the only place where I'm not being hunted." Cura admitted.
"You're bound to draw the wrong sort of attention. Do what you must and leave." Faven demanded. "We don't need Dagon's attention."
"Dagon is in my world right now, don't worry." Cura sneered back as she continued to head to the fighting ground.
"Hnph. I was sure you were going to chicken out." Rynkyus turned around to face her. "All these fools are gathered here to see Rynkyus the Bladebearer do battle with a Vigilant of Stendarr."
"I won't disappoint them." Cura drew her mace and readied Spellbreaker. Of course they would have figured out what she was. It did make her wonder how many Vigilants had been killed and dragged into the Deadlands over the last two-hundred years.
The Dremora Kynreeve smirked at a nearby female Dremora in a black hooded robe. "See, Lyranth? Bravado. That's more like it."
The female Dremora laughed. "We'll see if this arrogant mortal is actually worth her salt."
Rynkyus looked at the other two members of his group that stood beside her. "Drozu. Gykkah. I see those clownish grins on your faces. Yes, this mortal is a mortal, and as such, may be perceived as weak... but did the Vestige not teach you anything?" he turned his face to Cura ever so slowly. "This mortal has seen much battle with our kind, and lived. I, for once, am curious to see just how."
Drozu seemed to be adjusting his armour. "I have no doubt that you are wasting your time, Rynkyus. She is not worth the trouble."
Gykkah laughed with a shrill lilt in her voice as she looked at the small half-Elven woman across from the mighty Rynkyus. "Indeed, this will be over before it even begins."
Among the common folk, a Breton woman, Ninette Gestor, with brown hair in a green tunic shouted out. "Take 'is head off! Do it! Come on, or I'll rip ya apart myself! I bet good money on you, Breton!"
When Cura looked at the Breton, she bore closer resemblance to Cura: her pointed ears betrayed her Elven heritage. She was from the first era! As Cura stared at her, she realized that she could definitely have blended in with the early Bretons.
The ones like Carcette or Mirabelle were so far removed from the first era that they practically looked like Nords or Imperials with ridged brows. But, seeing an ancient one in person made Cura feel a tad more justified to associate herself with them.
A male Dunmer, Sunel Tharyon, who was bald and clad in a roughspun tunic cried out from the other side. "I bet on Rynkyus! You'll never win!"
The Dunmer haven't changed much since they lost their Chimer status.
The more Cura looked around, she saw quite a few of them. But seeing as this place was once Mournhold, it made sense on paper.
Madena walked closer to Cura. "Show him no mercy if you win. That's the way of it in this disgusting place."
A Nord with short hair tied up in a small bun, Strighelm, laughed. "You, beat a Dremora? Hah! You couldn't fight a Mudcrab!"
A Dark Seducer leaned against the stonewall nearby, twirling a dagger but saying nothing.
Everyone wanted to see Cura lose, save for the one who bet on her and Madena.
Mirabelle and Savos stood further away, but Cura could identify them both amidst the crowd behind Rynkyus. They seemed to be rooting for her.
Cura gave her mace a twirl. "I'm ready when you are."
Rynkyus drew his long, engraved ebony sword, sliding it up off his back with graceful vigor. He gave it a twirl himself, loosening his wrist. "I see you are no stranger to Daedric artifacts: you near the Spellbreaker of Peryite and the Dawnbreaker of Meridia."
"And the wisdom of Azura." Cura added in humorously. She hoped she could pull this off.
Rynkyus made the first move, rushing towards her. When he brought down his blade, it was like a guillotine dropping upon her shield.
Cura took the opportunity to strike forward with her mace, but Rynkyus was more agile than that. He leapt backyard swung horizontally, prompting Cura to duck and roll before the sword arched downwards and embedded itself in the ground.
As Cura dodged, the Kynreeve continued his advance and lopped the top half off a wooden post in attempt to strike her.
No Voice, Cura remembered as she instinctively readied herself to unleash Unrelenting Force upon him. She cancelled the attempt and instead tossed an Elemental Bolt at him, striking the Dremora warrior in his side with a wide burst of fire, ice, and lightning.
Longstride allowed Cura to speed up as she dashed around in front of him and drove her mace backwards across his head.
"Ooh!" the onlookers exclaimed with an awestruck gasp.
Rynkyus reeled over and then pulled himself back. He massaged his cheek and then turned a dark grin on Cura. "There it is. You're no ordinary mortal, are you?"
Even without her Dragonblood, Cura fought with great ferocity. As a spirit, she had no stamina to worry about and could measure her strength with the strength of her own will - contrast to the limited human body.
Cura cast Ebonyflesh on herself, creating an armoured layer of the material to guard her form.
Savos Aren clapped, and Mirabelle scratched her chin. They were glad to know that she had paid attention in Winterhold after all. Tolfdir would be proud.
Rynkyus' sword clashed with the Ebony flesh and Cura grabbed his sword with her left hand. She then activated the Crossbow mechanic and fired an Exploding bolt of Shock at him, causing him to fly backwards.
Cura's Ebonyflesh ran out and she rushed to catch up with the Kynreeve. She leapt off an Armourer's workbench near a Smith's station. and brought her mace down.
Rynkyus rolled over quickly and her mace hit the floor. He kicked her in the side, causing her to fall over, and he stabbed her left thigh with his sword.
She may not have been flesh, but she felt every bit of that pain just the same. In the afterlife, flesh and soul were one and the same, after all.
Cura cried out and rolled over as she was pinned to the ground like a Butterfly to a display canvas. She pressed her forehead into the hard dirt for a second as the pain sent waves through her.
Madena looked away and covered her eyes. So much pain, so much violence. She hated it.
Rynkyus yanked the blade out of her and sheathed it. "Okay, we're done here. Get up, mortal."
"No! Damn you!" Ninette cried out from the sidelines angrily.
"Hah! I knew it! I win!" Sunel laughed out loud as he extended his hand to Ninette for cash.
Cura grit her teeth and slowly pushed herself up. "Best two out of three."
The onlookers fell silent with anticipation.
Rynkyus shook his head. "You'll die. My intention is not to kill you. I've seen all I needed to see."
"I died already. Here I am!" Cura extended her arms. "One more round."
Rynkyus looked to his cohorts, and they shrugged at him. He pondered for a second and then drew his sword again. "Very well. Ready yourself."
Cura sized him up once more, and this time she drew Auriel's Bow. She mocked an Ebony Arrow. "Let's go."
Rynkyus was amused and consumed with thrill. He ran towards her and Cura fired a Sunhallowed Iron Arrow into his chest, causing pain to wrack the Dremora.
Cura leapt forward and slid under his legs with a well-timed dive. She used her shield to trip him as she slid, and quickly hit him in the back of his knee with her mace, dislocating the bone.
As she scanned the crowd, she could still see Mirabelle and Savos watching the fight. However, it seemed as though the Dremora around them could not see them. Their invisibility cloak must still be active against the Daedra.
Cura had an idea.
Before Rynkyus could scramble back to his face fiercely, Cura cast Longstride and hurried into the cloaked area with Savos and Mirabelle. From the Daedras' perspectives, she disappeared into thin air.
"Just like a typical mortal. Craven." Lyranth spat.
Mirabelle crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You are planning to inquire about the Anatomancer, right?"
"I will, don't worry." Cura reassured her. "I... I need to do this. Just let me do as I must." She cast a Healing Spell on her in the moment of stillness.
Savos Aren extended a hand. "He's up! Be careful, Cura!" He emitted a powerful force blast at Rynkyus, who staggered over to their hidden zone, knocking the Dremora backwards. Rynkyus hit the ground with several burns on his body. His audible grunt of pain shocked everyone in the vicinity.
"Come on, come on, come on!" Ninette clenched her fists excitedly and Sunel grunted nervously.
Madena looked on with wonder, unsure if whether or not her eyes had deceived her. The rest of the assemblage of Humans, Elves, and Dremora watched with baited breath as a figure manifested out of nowhere.
Cura leapt out of the protected zone with her mace and drove it down into his head, knocking him to the ground. Cura stood over the dazed Daedra and raised her mace. He was vulnerable now, and she could deliver the killing blow.
Through the haze, Rynkyus could see her readying. "Do it, mortal... claim your victory."
Cura looked around at the crowd, all who were cheering and egging her on. Even the Dremora relished the idea of seeing one of their own dead. Mercy was seen as a weakness in this realm. But the truth was that mercy was anything but. Sometimes it was even harder an act to perform than killing.
She looked at Rynkyus, who was still in a daze, and stepped on his sword, which was on the ground, and slid it far away from his grasp with a kick. It hit against the ramshackle Inn's porch fifteen feet away.
"No. I'm not going to kill you." Cura proclaimed.
The crowd was aghast by her lack of closure. The Dremora surrounding them looked bewildered and some disgusted, and Madena covered her face. Faltonia shook her head disapprovingly. Had anything she'd said sunk in at all? Any of it?
The Bladebearers exchanged glances, and looked at Rynkyus and Cura, utterly baffled.
Savos and Mirabelle were horrified, anticipating the worst to happen.
Ninette and Sunel, the foolish gamblers, both glared on angrily.
Then Cura added insult to injury: she went down on one knee next to Rynkyus. "I'm not so sure if this works on Dremora, but I'll try it." She extended her hands over his broken leg and began to cast a healing spell.
"What are you doing, Mortal? Your little sorceries will not-" before he could finish, Rynkyus was interrupted by a gentle, tingling sensation running through his leg, like a gentle sewing needle stitching his fibers back together. "What? What is this sensation?"
"Stendarr's Mercy." Cura explained through her focus. "Perhaps even a creature such as you is worthy of it after all..." truly, it was a test. Never before had a Vigilant of Stendarr ever attempted to use Healing Hands on a Dremora. Never. Why would Stendarr allow it to heal a Daedra, though? He hated them. Why did he grant her this?
"She follows the fool Stendarr!" a Dremora exclaimed with the malevolence of a Thalmor Agent in a Talos shrine.
Cura stood back up, and Rynkyus immediately got up. "You do know what kindness rewards fools in this dimension."
"Round three?" Cura shrugged her shoulders and nudged to his discarded sword.
Before the other Dremora could lunge towards the gullible Breton, they were halted by her words. Madena immediately spoke on Cura's behalf. "How delightfully sadistic! She spared his life, only so that they could fight again! Devious."
Lyranth furrowed her brows. "Rynkyus, just slay this fool. The balance in this realm is already disrupted. The mortals care not for her. Her presence here will change nothing, and neither would her death."
Madena looked around nervously as the other Dremora seemed to be champing at the bit to fight with Cura, who she could see was wounded already. She frenziedly tried to see if any of the humans would defend her, and quickly raised her hand. "I do. I care about what happens to her." She did not know Cura very well, admittedly, but she had seen her in the Pale from when she was a small child. She looked to the other people around. "Come on, you cowards! We're all 'mortals'. We need to stick together here!"
"Would you fight for her?" Drozu asked her as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Madena kept her composure, even if the thought disturbed her. She had sworn off violence after her service in the Great War. The sight of mangled, bloody and scorched corpses was forever burned into her mind. Horrors she inflicted upon her enemies as a master of the arcane. She stiffened up and looked to the other outcasts, all of whom held their silence.
Mirabelle and Savos remained spectral spectators, but were alert in the event should things get ugly.
"I stand for her." came the voice of Martin Septim, who made himself manifest once again. He stood there at Cura's side stout in his Imperial Dragon Armour. He wielded a unique Imperial Sword and extended it forward.
One of the Dremora Kynreeves hissed. "You! You are Martin Septim! The one who meddled in the affairs of our lord so long ago... his anger is white hot against you."
"A shame your lord is too busy throwing a tantrum in our world to come here and fight us himself." Cura firmly stood beside Martin. She would defend his honour. He may be long deceased, but he was still an Emperor and Champion of the Divines. Perhaps even the last true Emperor, according to the Nords back home. She nodded to him to show her support, though he was there to support her in this endeavour.
One of the Dremora roared angrily and grabbed a spear from the blacksmith's workbench nearby and rushed at Cura. He was abruptly stopped by Rynkyus, who pushed him back with his sword.
"What are you doing?!"
Rynkyus did not respond. Instead, his sword rode the length of the spear shaft and crossed the Dremora's throat, slitting it open and causing the churl to fall over, dead. He then turned his back and slid the sword back into its sheath. When he walked back into position he turned to face Cura. "I've seen all that I need about you. You truly are no mere mortal. You hold some influence if an Emperor is willing to stand up in your name. And it is clear that were you to die in this place, it would draw the wrong sort of attention here. - namely that of Mehrunes Dagon." When his eyes met hers, she saw an unexpected, and very subtle gaze of gratitude. Perhaps he was returning her favour of sparing him before?
Cura took a step back as she processed what was just said. "Pardon me, but... you made that sound as though you don't like Mehrunes Dagon."
"Not all of we Dremora desire to serve as his puppets." Rynkyus admitted. He began to walk towards his campsite with the other Bladebearers and Cura followed him to converse. Martin Septim slowly disappeared, but kept a watch behind Cura's back as he did. Mirabelle and Savos disappeared, as well, for the time being.
A very disappointed crowd took the hint and returned to their affairs. No Dremora was so bold to attempt to follow in the other fool's footsteps and let it go for a time. Others entered the Splintering Tankard. After half an hour's walk, Cura finally reached the Bladebearers' campsite.
"Just what are the Mythic Dawn planning with Dagon this time? Do you have any idea?" Cura asked firmly when she was certain that it was safe to talk.
Lyranth tapped her chin. "When a cult devoted to the God of Destruction performs mysterious deeds upon your doorstep, there's a good chance your home will soon be engulfed in fire, devoured by earthquakes, or submerged in a raging flood. And by your home, I mean Nirn."
"I know that much; but what does Mehrunes Dagon want with Nirn?" Cura demanded. "What's so interesting about it to him?"
"Have you not seen the Doom Strider?" Rynkyus asked as he took a seat on a fallen stone nearby.
"The Doom Strider is that giant, black Chaurus-looking behemoth with an energy beam and flaming eye, right?" Cura asked.
Of course, it didn't actually resemble a Chaurus, but Cura had no other point of reference for a descriptor. It was insectoid in its form, for certain.
"Yes. The Doom Strider is the greatest Siege Crawler ever designed by Dagon's engineers." Lyranth exposited. "He commissioned it in preparation for his Day of Wrath. He intends to unleash it upon all of Tamriel, where it will destroy all that it touches. Mehrunes Dagon's first attempt at Nirn was of curiosity, and his second was of conquest. Now, it is of vengeance."
"He has grown long embittered." Rynkyus crossed his arms. "He has lost to many mortals on Nirn. Among the first, the false gods of Morrowind: Sotha Sil, and Almalexia. This battle is forever remembered here at the Wretched Spire. After all, this was once part of Mournhold, where it took place. His second defeat to a mortal on Nirn was at the hands of the beguiling sorcerer Chimere Graegyn, who aided the hero of the Battlespire in defeating him with the Spear of Bitter Mercy."
"His third, and most embittering defeat, was at the hands of Emperor Martin Septim." Lyranth concluded. "Mehrunes Dagon does not intend a fourth humiliating defeat. There are no promises, no true pacts, only death."
Cura felt a cold chill spread from her chest to her fingers and toes. It was almost as if she were dreaming, but she was the grieved dead, and certainly very aware of her surroundings. "Then I must return to Nirn."
"What stops you, mortal? As you have said, there is an open portal. Go through it, then." Drozu gestured to the expansive dark plains behind him.
Cura shook her head. "I have my reasons, and they're none of your business. I need to enter Coldharbour."
Eyes met her with an indiscernable blank stare when she stated her intentions. They looked at her as though she were crazy for even suggesting the notion.
"Well, mortal, there is something to be said about your boldness, but not so much for your intelligence. Usually those of your kind bemoan their fate and desire to return to Nirn, and here you desire to enter the domain of Molag Bal." Lyranth was genuinely surprised by this. "You remind me much of that mortal in the second era who I'd run into all over Oblivion. They called her the Vestige. Truly different from the rest of your kind."
Rynkyus leaned on his sword. "Fine. Why do you desire to enter Coldharbour? I am willing to aid you in this task, but first I desire to know why."
Cura was floored. She wasn't expecting aid from anybody here, least of all a Dremora Kynreeve. Though, perhaps this was merely deception to surmise her true nature. Though, Stendarr's healing light mended the Dremora's wounds, so perhaps he was needed for her success.
"Don't make me regret trusting you." Cura prefaced her explanation concerning her Dragon Soul, Alduin, the Mythic Dawn, and her death and how she ended up in the Deadlands. She looked over periodically at the civilians who were being healed by Madena. Some of the injuries were terrible, and yet they seemed to weary to care for the pain.
"Well, it certainly explains why Mehrunes Dagon has taken an interest in you." Rynkyus admitted. "Your Dragon Soul is more than a mere offense to him. But before I aid you, you must prove yourself worthy-"
A loud explosion was heard from back in the small town and loud screams rang through the air, alerting the small group. They kicked up dirt and hurried back into Wretched Spire.
There was a terrible sight before them: Daedroths were rustling the townsfolk and Spider Daedra were blocking the exit roads. At the center of the chaos; Valkyn Gatanas. Madena was cornered, but refused to fight. She simply held her hands behind her head and went down on her knees. For this, she was struck with a Daedric Mace by a lesser Dremora.
The Inn was quickly detained and rummaged by Mehrune's loyalists and the patrons and Innkeeper were interrogated.
"Where is the Dragonborn interloper?" Gatanas demanded of the townspeople. He stood tall at the center of the city as the mortals were all forcefully dragged from their establishments, from Faltonia and the patrons to Faven and Tarvyn Indoril from the Hall with its workers, Gilas Alan the Stablemaster and the Dremora merchant Un.
"Mehrunes Dagon Loyalists." Rynkyus spat from behind a sharp crag. He looked to Cura beside him. "It appears they have found you, mortal, and with you, the Wretched Spire. This place shall never know peace again."
A chill went down Cura's spine. Spectral sweat began to bead on her forehead, perhaps due to the blistering heat of lava in the dry air or her own nervousness. She spied on the spectacle below. Those poor people suffered enough. If Gatanas found it here, he would die here.
But Dremora never stayed dead.
It doesn't matter. None of it does.
Cura admonished the thought and drew Auriel's Bow, to the great surprise of the Bladebearers.
Author's Note: I recommend "Bard Song - ESO Deadlands: When the Spires Fell" for this ;)
Cura did not hesitate. She fired a Sunhallowed Ebony Arrow that she snatched out of Drozu's quiver. The arrow met its mark in Gatanas' back, causing a mighty jolt of energy to tear into him and he howled with great anguish.
Against common sense, Cura leapt off the cliff and onto the roof of the smithy. She tucked and rolled, landing firmly on the ground below. "I'm right here, Gatanas! It's me you want to kill - not them! Come get me!"
"I want to kill all of you!" the Dremora roared furiously as he drew his greatsword. A demonic grin crept onto his hideous face and displayed itself wide and proud for all to see. "How long have you been lurking here? You left a messy path in your wake; we followed the Daedra carcasses in the field to locate you."
Cura fired an Exploding Bolt of Fire from her false arm's crossbow directly into his smug face. The citizens collectively gasped and some began to laugh and cheer.
Cura looked to the townsfolk. "Anybody who can fight, join me! We're going to protect this settlement! You refused to fall to your knees in the past - keep that spirit alive!"
"Who knew a town in the Deadlands could attract so many people?" Tarvyn Indoril laughed. He'd really had enough of this place, in truth. Eternity was enough to drive anyone sick.
Ninette growled. "She's right! I don't care anymore! Let's just slaughter the lot of them! If I'm going to be cursed, I'll do it in peace, thank you very much!" Immediately, the Breton woman began to shift painfully into a dark brown Werewolf before their eyes, startling the Dremora and Cura, though the others weren't alarmed. She lunged for one of the Daedroths and began to claw at it, and the crocodile Daedra clamped its jaws around her shoulder in return, but the werewolf's ferocity prevented her from releasing it.
The other Daedra turned hostile against the town, but were set upon by the Bladebearers, who came hurrying in, tearing down the Spider Daedra and engaging the other Daedroths.
Many of the townsfolk ran to the smith station and grabbed spare swords and stood with Cura and the Bladebearers. They began to cast spells and swing blades against the invasive Dremora.
The town's Dremora fought against their own kind for the local mortals.
Gatanas engaged Cura directly. He brought down his sword with great force and she parried with Spellbreaker, knocking it backwards, and swung her mace down, hitting his shoulder. She sidestepped a follow-up swing and ducked a third as she spun around behind the large, heavy beast. She gestured towards Tarvyn, Noroth and Faven nearby, and the Dunmerfolk joined in, attacking Gatanas from various angles.
Daedra don't belong here. This was once sacred ground!" Faven shouted furiously. He tolerated the Bladebearers and the friendlier Dremora, but these were downright wretched fiends.
Gatanas grew frustrated and charged a blast of dark energy, creating a circular burst around him, knocking all of them backwards. He lunged forward and impaled Faven through the stomach and tossed him aside like a ragdoll.
"FATHER!" Tarvyn cried out in horror, gathering the Dremora's attention. Valkyn Gatanas swung at him next, but the blade was parried by Rynkyus.
"Filthy Traitor!" Gatanas spat at his fellow Dremora.
"I am no traitor. I never served Mehrunes Dagon." Rynkyus spat as he flung Gatanas backwards with a sharp parry. Noroth hacked the assailant in the back again.
Cura hurried to the Dark Elf's side as he hit the ground, using Longstride.
"I knew... you would bring trouble to us... I said it, didn't I?" Faven grunted.
Cura cast a healing spell on him as the war raged around them. "It would have found you sooner or later. Forever has infinite possibilities." She helped him up to his feet and hurried over to Madena, who was using a Greater Ward to block incoming Fireballs and protect others.
"Madena-"
"I will not!" Madena protested. Even now she refused to use magic to fight her enemies.
Cura was beset by Gatanas, who leapt over Noroth and rushed her way with his weapon at the ready.
Martin Septim appeared once again and drove his sword into Valkyn Gatanas' stomach, utilizing the element of surprise to his advantage before disappearing into the air again. Cura then took the opportunity presented and drew Dawnbreaker. With a great swing, she beheaded the Valkyn.
Once the Dremora leader hit the ground, the members of his platoon instantly stopped, like Dwarven mechanisms with their switches pressed.
"Thanks, Martin." Cura expressed her gratitude as she wiped the dark blood off of the sword.
Valkyn Gatanas' head rolled along the floor and was picked up by Rynkyus, who sheathed his sword. He examined it and looked at Cura. "Impressive, mortal. Very impressive."
The Daedra fled out into the Deadlands once their leader was killed, abandoning their assault altogether. Still, the other Bladebearers gave chase after them.
"I, Rynkyus, leader of the Bladebearer Clan, deem you worthy. We will aid you in finding your way to Coldharbour." he expressed as the fighting quelled.
Cura looked at the war aftermath and regretted the sight of the destroyed architecture and wounded civilians. "Actually, you can help me another way. I want to free these people of the Deadlands. Sure, it's not safe on Tamriel right now, but it's no longer safe here either."
"What do you propose, then?" Lyranth was intrigued by where she was leading the conversation. After a brief moment of silence Cura provided them all with an answer. She looked to Rynkyus.
"I have a particular friend who I am sending you to speak with: his name is Inigo the Brave. He is a blue Khajiit; there's no mistaking him for another." Cura articulated her plan. "Tell him that Vigilant Cura sent you, and tell him that I'm surviving here and heading to Coldharbour to reclaim my Dragon Soul and the Amulet of Kings from Molag Bal. Tell him that there will be living Mortals coming from the Deadlands who may need shelter."
The Dremora were all surprised to hear this, but Rynkyus listened. "Very well; though I don't presume we will be trusted by your friend on our first meeting."
It was true; the Bladebearers were Dremora - the very thing attacking Skyrim right this moment. There was the possibility that Inigo would be hostile on sight to them.
Cura removed her spiritual Amulet of Stendarr and placed it in Rynkyus' hands. "And, give this to him, too. For proof. Show it to them and let him examine it." She looked solemnly to the town around them and its forlorn inhabitants, and closed her eyes.
Stendarr, this is why I've come here. I understand it now.
She was going to free these poor people. They were trapped in this wretched dimension for far too long. It was time for a new beginning. Cura stepped forward and addressed them as a whole. "Everyone, listen up! This town is over. There is no more hiding from Mehrunes and his hordes."
"Yeah, and who's fault is that?" Faven snapped at her angrily as he examined some residual cuts on his flesh. Tarvyn stood beside his father and stared at her with cold, resignated eyes.
Faltonia leaned against a post nearby, catching her breath. The weariness in her face was disheartening. "If you'd never arrived we'd still be unknown to Dagon's forces. Thank you very much for exposing us all."
"Oh, you were already exposed!" Madena snapped at them. "You literally have Dremoras dwelling in your town! Mehrunes just didn't care to do anything because you seemed benign. Now that a Dremora Valkyn was killed here, though..."
Faven nodded. "We're going to be in serious trouble."
Strighelm laughed aloud as he wiped some blood off his cut cheek. "Hah! I won't lie, though - best fight I've had in centuries."
"It was either him, or us!" Tarvyn protested and some of the other townsfolk agreed.
"I'm going to free you all." Cura proclaimed boldly. "Come with me and I'll bring you all to the portal. You may have to escape the eye of Mehrunes Dagon, but that's where the Bladebearers will come in." she looked to Rynkyus and his companions. "Since the portal is in the lower Velothi Mountains, bring them down to the city of Windhelm - as I've understood it, they've accepted refugees there historically."
Or, perhaps once this crisis has ended, they could settle in the empty Winterhold and make it a proper city again. Who knows?
Rynkyus nodded. He gave Cura his word, on his honour as a Bladebearer. He turned to the civilians. "Hear, hear, mortals all! Any who desire freedom from the Deadlands shall follow us, otherwise you can remain here and greet Valkyn Gatanas when he awakens."
The people looked amidst the wreckage and at one another, and their Mayor stood up to speak on their collective behalf. With a cleared throat, Faven responded. "If there truly is an open portal, and if you truly can escort us back to our world, we'll follow you. Don't get our hopes up - we've had them dashed repeatedly already."
Savos and Mirabelle unveiled themselves and appeared to Cura, and time seemed to freeze around them.
"You're going through with this? Are you sure?" Mirabelle asked, unsure of the matter.
Cura nodded. "I can't bear to just up and leave them there - especially not after what just happened. Besides; Inigo and the others are probably preparing a shelter from the Doom Strider. Langley Longseer warned him long ago. Whatever the case is, they're in no less danger in Skyrim than they are here - and if they die on Nirn they have the hope of entering Aetherius, which is a long sight better than this."
Savos Aren closed his eyes and thought about it. He understood where Cura was coming from. If he could have taken his allies with him out of Labyrinthian in life they would not have suffered like they did. "She's right, Mirabelle. Coldharbour can wait a little longer."
The Breton was uncertain. "I suppose so, but without your Dragonborn abilities you are more limited. This fight was child's play next to what is coming."
"I don't have to fight alone." Cura reassured her. "I'm placing my trust in you, and in the Arch-Mage. And in Martin Septim. Please assure me that you'll help."
Mirabelle nodded. "You have my word. Just don't do anything too rash."
Savos Aren agreed. "The Et'Ada want us to help you - the Aedra, Azura, Meridia, and even Jyggalag. Even if we didn't want to help you we would. You can count on that."
"Thank you, both of you." Cura expressed as they faded away again and time slowly faded back in. She looked at the desperate crowd before her and smiled softly. "I'll do my best. I won't leave you to languish in this hellhole. I can't promise you happiness on Nirn, but... at least it will be a nice change of scenery."
"You are such a sap." Faltonia scoffed as she wrapped a rag around her right shoulder to close her open wound, inflicted in the fight.
"I am. I won't deny it - but be happy somebody was 'weak' enough to show you mercy." Cura said as she headed to the road from whence she first arrived, kicking the corpse of a Spider Daedra away. Rynkyus and the Bladebearers shadowed her and ushered the hurrying crowd through the gap between cliffsides. To their great surprise, freedom was possible.
A few civilians cheered loudly with excitement. The way home was clear - they just had to live to see it. They took eager steps out of the dark gloom and into the orange-glow of the magma-surrounded pathways behind Cura. Some looked backwards at Wretched Spire - a bittersweet farewell to their former eternal home.
For now, they followed Cura - their only beacon of hope in these horrible lands.