Tsleeixth remained silent as they ventured through the Dwemer ruins. The surprising return of Niernen was a present surprise to the Beastmen, who was glad for the survival of the Dunmer sorceress, easily remembering the help that she -and Do’Karth- had given him after he had been wounded fighting the Kamal, who offered her a smile, or the Argonian equivalent of one, and a wave towards her. However, the return of Niernen had also stirred memories of the Siege of Windhelm and their retreat through Anga’s Mill, along with the bitter shame that he felt at himself after that terrible event: ashamed at himself for those that they had failed to protect and left in the hands of the Akaviri invaders and shame at his own failings during the Siege. At having been crippled during the entirety of the Siege due to his foolish decision to fight a Kamal with nothing, but the help of a summoned creature and not a true fighter “[i]Perhaps if I hadn't been hurt Niernen wouldn't have been captured, or Utu-ja wouldn't have been killed.[/i]” He thought, his mind going from the Dunmer sorceress to the deceased Argonian ranger that had been with them during the Reach campaign and who had perished in the escape from Windhelm. “[i]I should probably go and talk to her once this mission is done.[/i]” He thought to himself. 

However, the memories of the Siege of Windhelm weren't the only thing bothering the Saxhleel spellsword for he also felt ashamed for having agreed to try and parley with the group, an action which had put Do’Karth in considerable danger that luckily hadn’t been fatal but, very well could have been, and for not having helped out in the fight that broke out once his Khajiit comrade had been attacked, even though he knew that -logically- he wouldn’t have been of much help considering where the fight took place. He shook his head slightly, lightly tapping his skull with the knuckles of his hand in an effort to clear his mind somewhat, mentally chastising himself for constantly second-guessing himself and for constantly wondering what might have happened if things had gone differently, especially during a mission where they couldn’t afford to be distracted. 

Focused as he was on his thoughts he hadn't noticed when they had reached the Dwemer door blocking their path, barely managing to avoid colliding with Madura when the company stopped moving without him noticing. Tsleeixth looked on as Edith poked the double door with his sword, tensing as he waited to see what would happen for he was afraid that the old Dwemer door might be booby-trapped. Breathing a sigh of relief when the door opened without any sort of deadly mechanism activating, Tsleeixth followed the rest of the group into the steam-filled room. Tensing immediately when they heard the voice of the sole Dunmer that had escaped the skirmish in the tunnels behind them. However, before any of them could do anything, Maduras suddenly spoke up, revealing himself as the brother of the leader of the Dunmer’s in charge of the Bthamz expedition and from what he could gather it seemed like there had been bad blood in the past between the two Dalas brothers.

Yet despite this fact it seemed like a peaceful compromise might be possible, especially when Madura’s brother reacted in shock at the journalist mention of the Snow Demons “[i]The alliance between Morrowind and Akaviri must be a secret then, I wonder how many Dunmer's could be convinced to take arms against the Nerevarine if they knew what allies he courted.[/i]” Mused the Argonian in his mind as he looked on at the exchange between the stranger brothers. However, any chance for a peaceful compromise was lost when Hlaalu incited the other Dunmer's -or Ashlanders, whatever it was they were called, it made little difference to Tsleeixth- to attack the company after the sudden appearance of the Dwemer Centurion, Madura’s pleas that they needn't kill each other  -that they could  come to a peaceful solution- seemingly falling on deaf ears on either side.

Taking a defensive position per Edith’s order, Tsleeixth saw one of Narivar’s Ashlanders approaching his position. As the heavily armored Ashlander quickly approached him Tsleeixth debated with himself on what to do, on one hand Narivar’s group hadn’t attacked them when Madura spoke -though that might have been more due to his presence, and filial bond with Narivar, than any disposition amongst the Ashlander’s themselves- to his erstwhile brother; on the other hand, the scuffle with the group headed by Hlaalu made him wary to try diplomacy for a second time. In the end the Argonian spellsword chose not to draw his blade, perhaps Madura’s plea for nonviolence had convinced him or perhaps he simply didn’t wish to draw the attention of the Centurion. 

Raising both hands in what -he hoped- was a placating gesture, Tsleeixth addressed the Ashlander. “Please, there’s no need for vio-” He began, his words interrupted as he barely dodged a strike from the Ashlander, for the Dunmer hadn’t listened to him and had instead drawn a dagger with which he had intended to skewer Tsleeixth’s neck. Fortunately, he had managed to dodge the fatal blow, instead the dagger had buried deep into Tsleeixth’s left shoulder. Viciously yanking the dagger from the Argonian’s shoulder, leaving a gaping wound in the process, the heavily armored Dunmer pulled a chitin blade from it’s scabbard and once more charged at Tsleeixth. Drawing his own chitin sword, Tsleeixth tried to stop his assailant as best he could, but the wound in his shoulder had robbed the Argonian spellsword of most of the mobility in his left arm. 

Bereft of his left arm, the Dunmer swordsman easily deflected Tsleeixth’s attacks and put the Argonian in the defensive as he pressed on with his attacks. In the end it didn’t take much to bring Tsleeixth down, the fight coming to an end when the Ashlander punched Tsleeixth square in the face which was quickly followed by two stabs in the small part of his abdomen that Tsleeixth’s iron armor didn’t cover. In a last ditch attempt to stop the Ashlander, Tsleeixth summoned his Frost Atronach to try and take down his assailant with him; seeing the elemental Daedra manifesting, the Ashlander decided to run away, but not before stabbing Tsleeixth one last time before his escape.

His consciousness quickly fading away, Tsleeixth crumbled into the stone floor like a marionette that had it’s strings cut. The Saxhleel spellsword barely registered as Sagax grabbed him by the arm and set him upright “Sa….Sagax?” He asked, shaking his head slightly to try and stay conscious, when the Imperial began talking to him, accepting the potion that he gave him with a shaky hand “Thank you my friend.” Said Tsleeixth as he quickly drank the content of the red vial, his mind clearing slightly as he recovered some of his strength. Touching his gut he winced in pain as he accidentally prodded one of his wounds, the tip of his fingers stained with blood “Yeah…..we need to leave now, I might need your help standing.” He said as he raised his good arm for Sagax to grasp. Once Sagax helped him to stand up, Tsleeixth quickly surveyed the scene “Wait, give me a second.” He said, frowning slightly; he was sure that he saw Niernen panicking, but due to the steam wasn’t sure, for all he knew he was merely seeing a vision due to the blood loss and Niernen wasn’t even in the chamber. Turning to look at his Atronach, he commanded the creature to go in the direction in which he thought he had seen Niernen and to protect her if the Daedra found the Dunmer sorceress. “Alright, let’s go Sagax.” He said as he turned to look at the Imperial, his left hand weakly clutching the area where he had been stabbed.