[center]Collab with [@Dervish][/center]
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Of all the jobs Bharzak had embarked upon in the recent future, this was proving to be the least pleasant by far. At a glance, the cave that marked their destination didn’t seem particularly foreboding, that was, as long as one could overlook the scorched ground and complete lack of greenery around the area, somehow managing to look particularly barren despite the general scarcity of any visible life. It did not help that the long shadows it cast gave it the appearance of the cavernous maw of some enormous predator, and, if their assumptions were to be proved correct, something dangerous did indeed make its residence within that structure. The clearing  emanated an air of danger and hostility that was difficult to ignore, and while the orc was not about to say a word about how she felt, simply being there made her rather uneasy.

She could already tell that the rogue pyromancer was going to be troublesome for her and her acquaintances to deal with, and she was not looking forward to entering the tunnels one bit. And that was not even considering what she had learned about the bosmer from someone who had known him—one of her 'companions', Jonimir, had once been his mentor, and apparently their foe was somewhat of a prodigy. Having survived a run-in with an only moderately talented necromancer a couple months before present, Bharzak did not relish the idea of picking a fight with another mage with ill intentions so soon, especially considering their magical prowess.

In that same train of thought, it occurred to the orcish mage that now would be a good time to ask Jonimir if his former apprentice had any weaknesses that they could easily exploit, or anything else of that nature. Turning away from the man-made cavern to face the redguard necromancer, she inquired, "Anything I should know about this fire mage before we fight him? Any major shortcomings or flaws?"

The Redguard did not turn to face Bharzak, his face a mask of contempt; whether for her or his quarry, it was unclear for whom his ire was directed.

"Gwinnir was never a stablizing element, although he was a quick study. Quick to learn, did not question orders or become squeemish at the unsavory aspects of conjuration. Once he gets an idea in his head, it is hard to shake it... which is probably why this," Jonimir replied, gesturing to the scorched earth around them. "Is something that came up rather recently. Something put the idea in his head, and his insane mind filled out the rest. In short, do not underestimate what he is willing to do, because he simply does not regard consequences for his actions. It was once an admirable quality that made him well suited for my purposes, and now." An irritable snort escaped the necromancer. "He's become quite the thorn in my side, and to our benefactors.

"One thing I found peculiar about him was what seemed to simply be piss poor hygene practices became more clear to me that Gwinnir is afraid of water. He hates the rain more than anything, save for rivers and lakes, so if there's any present in the mine, perhaps it would be a potent tool at our disposal. Other than that, do not expose yourself for long to him. I have never seen a mage wield destruction magic with such brilliant potency. It was that very same potency I tried to tap into for our... let's say experiments." Jonimir concluded. To his side, the Altmer Arenco was weaving a spell through his fingers, likely as a warm-up, or to have something at the ready at a moment's notice.

"Hm. Thanks," Bharzak responded, falling silent once more as she mulled over the information she had just received. It would remain to be seen whether or not they would get lucky and have some water to use in their upcoming confrontation with their quarry, but she sincerely hoped they would have such an advantage. This interaction had also given her more than a bit to be concerned about, and not just in regards to Gwinnir's exceptional magical prowess and unstable mind. While she had no reason to care much about her current traveling companions, she had at least expected that a bit more commiseration over their similar circumstances would have occurred in the time they had spent together—but there was no such thing. They did not seem overly bothered by the fact they served demons, and therefore the orc had kept her discomfort to herself. Arenco seemed to be eager to impress Jonimir, for whatever reason, and had interacted with her even less than the redguard deigned to. She got the feeling that neither of them would be more than minorly inconvenienced if she were to fall in the fight against the pyromancer, which was hardly a reassuring thought. She would be glad to get this mission over with, provided that she survived it.

The alteration mage was glad when her associates started towards the mine, as the longer she waited around, the uneasier she grew. If she was going to have to fight a gifted pyromancer, Bharzak just wanted to get it over with, without giving herself too much time to muse on any possible outcomes. She followed after them, easily matching their pace, although she was careful to walk behind the other mages, not wanting to get in the way or to even really put her back towards them. She did not have a solid reason to distrust them, she had no reasons to extend them any more faith than was absolutely necessary, either. With a barely audible sigh, she continued into the mine, a hand hovering over the handle of her axe in order to be ready for combat in a moment’s notice. Blinking somewhat disorientedly as her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the tunnels, Bharzak took a moment to get her bearings, taking in her surroundings as she moved with hopes she might be able to use them to her advantage.

From the looks of things, the mine seemed to have been abandoned rather abruptly. At least, it certainly seemed that way to the mage, judging by all of the miscellaneous mining gear and essential—and some non-essential—supplies that still decorated the earthen passageways. She passed by a rusted pickaxe and an empty wooden wagon as she moved along, as well as a couple rolled up, musty-looking bedrolls, giving the place a haunting, dead feel. And, to her slight relief, Bharzak noticed that there was no scarcity of water in the area, as there were several pools of varying size and depth visible on the ground, and some of the walls of the man-made passageways glistened with moisture. It appeared Gwinnir had not chosen a particularly wise place to set up a base of operations, provided there was an effective way to use this water against him. Curiously enough, nothing seemed to have been particularly disturbed since whomever had previously occupied this mine had evacuated, which led the orc to wonder whether their foe had been expecting someone to come in search of him and had tried to leave as few traces of himself as possible. Such a thing would be ironic, however, considering the ruined surroundings of the cavern’s exterior.  She did not figure the pyromancer to be one who favored subtlety.

As it would turn out, he did not. For that matter, it did not appear that he had been expecting any visitors at all when they found him, as the bosmer had been sitting in a corner of one of the dead ends of the tunnels, his back towards him, and seemed rather absorbed by the task of scribbling furiously within a book—presumably a field journal of sorts, or perhaps some sort of manifesto? Bharzak did not allow herself to muse long on the nature of the tome, however, as their enemy snapped it shut quickly and tossed it aside as he turned to face them, anger and a sliver of surprise visible in his eyes. As the orc got a closer look at their target, equal parts pity and revulsion filled her at the sight of his charred, peeling skin, unnaturally flushed with heat. It was beyond her how he had ended up in such a bad way, but if they were successful in killing him, it might be more of an act of mercy than anything. Aside from his very obvious skin condition, Gwinnir was rather scrawny in stature but looked to be light on his feet, and his eyes held the dead light of one who had been consumed by some form of mania, appearing unfocused yet determined as he glared at the newcomers.

Before any individual could come to blows, however, Jonimir seized the opportunity to confront his former apprentice verbally, expressing his disappointment in the individual—as well as informing him in an eerily calm manner about just how he planned on killing him. Bharzak listened with growing discomfort, as she learned new things about her companions that she had not been aware of previously. Particularly, the fact that the redguard was not only a necromancer but was once part of a group that took their studies deadly seriously made her want to be as far away and unaffiliated with him as possible. Necromancy was a slippery slope for a mage to try to traverse, and it was something the orc had absolutely no desire to be even distantly associated with. The bosmer fidgeted nervously as their conversation continued, and with growing trepidation Bharzak observed the two, tensed and ready to spring into action the moment they stopped being 'civil' towards one another.

That moment came very soon, and the alteration mage was quick to react, drawing her axe as she began to cast Ironflesh with her free hand. A pale, translucent mint green sheen started to envelop her robes and skin as she concentrated on her spell, though her concentration was momentarily diverted by the sounds of movement from nearby in the mine tunnels—sounds that were too loud to have been caused by the usual inhabitants of cave systems. Suspicion flooded Bharzak at this revelation. Was it possible the pyromancer had allies of his own, that were now coming to his aid? Or were they soon to be joined by a completely unrelated third party? Whatever the case, the orc was not overly eager to find out.

She would come to rue allowing herself to be distracted, however, as it seemed that the bosmer had chosen to target her first. The unstable pyromancer flung an enormous, white-hot ball of flames her way, and, while she did her best to evade the magical projectile, she could not move fast enough, and the blazing sphere grazed her right side. A hiss of pain escaped the orc's lips at the pain that suddenly blossomed in that area, and she grit her teeth, deciding to temporarily retreat in order to assess her newly gained wound and to (hopefully) come up with a way to defeat Gwinnir. Her gaze settled on a nearby table, and she darted behind her two currently engaged companions to reach it, wasting no time in grabbing it by its ledge and overturning it. She noticed with some satisfaction that the wood was soggy, which would make it somewhat harder for her enemy to incinerate should he continue to pursue her. Letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, she cast a glance down at her side. Luckily, it seemed she'd managed to get away with only a minor burn, second-degree at the very worst, and it would not take too much effort on her part to block out the pain. And now that she'd been hit, she was feeling a good deal less anxious about combat. All that remained for her to figure out was how to use the cave's moisture to her advantage.

No such strategies managed to come to mind, however, as her attention was yet again stolen by the sounds of whomever—or whatever—she had heard earlier approaching quickly. Trying to force down feelings of growing apprehension, the orc risked a peek out from the safety of the cover of her makeshift shield. The sight that greeted her was by no means a welcome one, as her fears that strangers would enter upon their conflict was swiftly confirmed. And there were a good deal more of them there than were members of 'her' group, which led her to feel as if things were just a few seconds away from going horribly, [i]horribly[/i] wrong.