[I]15th Rain's Hand 4E208, Jerall Mountain Dwemer Excavation Site, 5:40am[/I] Although the sun wouldn’t rise for another two hours, it was already proving to be a dark and gloomy day. Early morning rain had rolled in over the Jerall Mountains a few hours prior and the hide tent rumbled steadily like a drum skin as the heavy and cold water droplets cascaded down over the taunt fabric, except for the one corner that was beginning to sag. Rhea Valerius rose from her table and the documents she had been reviewing under the light of an old oil lamp to cross the tent to pull the corner tight, a rush of water rushing down between the leather strap-bound flaps that had been collecting the water. Drying her arms off on a towel that had been sitting on the back of a chair, the Imperial returned to her seat, wiping what was left of the moisture on her leg. [i]All the better we’re heading below this morning. This is miserable.[/i] she mused, looking over the names of the specialists she had recruited for the venture, along with the 11 she had hand-picked for this next stage of the expedition that Knuut had informed the night before that they were requested to be prepared for six the following morning for up to a week within the ruin. Rhea had always considered the worst-case scenario, and one didn’t want to be expected to be gone for three days only to find themselves lost without rations for much longer. Given that this still nameless ruin was already shaping up to be something like a subterranean town it wasn’t unthinkable that it was just going to get bigger and more complex. She looked over the 11 names on her list, having made a point to have met each of them at some point in the past few weeks as she was organizing the exhibition or put out calls for recruitment. They were a complex group of wildly different personalities and talents, and doubtless there would be friction. She had hoped by requesting them all dine together the night prior and enjoy the comfort of a fire would help iron out those wrinkles so they could hammer out their differences in a relatively safe and controlled setting before needing to trust each other below where personality conflicts could prove to be fatal. Rhea had seen it far too many times before where pride and resentment overrode any sense of safety and a number of colleagues had to have been left behind, victims of carelessness and not respecting the almost palatable will of these ancient places that seemed to each have a soul of their own. Taking a sip of her wine, Rhea began to read over her notes of each of the members of the expedition that she had selected to try and better understand what she’d be working with, and possibly how to rein in the more difficult personalities. “Beg pardon, Rhea.” A booming voice came from outside of the tent. Knuut, her assistant and quartermaster for the expedition, came from outside of the door. “It’s nearly time. Figured you wouldn’t want to make a poor impression by being late.” “Thank you, I’ll be along shortly.” She called back, shutting the book on the page with her thoughts on the members of the camp. Grabbing her travel pack and grabbing her weapon belt, Rhea fastened her gladius and dagger to her waist and making a quick cursory scan about the tent for anything she might have missed, soon stepped out into the driving rain and made way towards the entrance of the ruin where the others were likely already assembled just inside. She made her way across the plateau, her boots crunching the gravel as she walked and she pulled her coat a bit tighter to keep herself somewhat dry and soon the dominating alloy doors, three meters in height and following tracks that had to be cleared so the large gear-like wheels could carry the heavy doors into their opened or closed position featuring the relief of familiar Dwemer motifs that were used in their helms appeared through the rain. Hurrying inside and out of the rain, a workshop was set up in the entrance where a lot of the finds were being cataloged and analyzed, as well as a worker’s camp further in. She had elected to stick with her tent for the privacy and quiet, and a number of others had elected to stay with the original campsite due to discomfort or even fear of being asleep in a place that was known for its danger. She couldn’t blame them, and so long as people did the jobs they were assigned, she had no problem accommodating their concerns. The interior was remarkably well illuminated, partially with the Dwemer technology that still miraculously functioned without flaw to this day, and partially with a number of oil lamps that were hung from whichever surface would support them or they could be hung from. A number of contraptions and automata were deactivated and set aside in rows based by type and in various states of assembly and condition, and all of it was being cataloged and studied. Nothing here could be taken for granted; as similar and uniform as a lot of the ruins in Skyrim were, there were always subtle differences that spoke to entirely different societies and styles of leadership, as well as technological innovation; the Dwemer, for all of their faults as a society, were always evolving and tinkering with their domain, and they were never contented to let things stagnate. Something of this size and condition was one that was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Near the lift the party had gathered, all instructed to bring with them their gear and equipment in anticipation for up to a week of being under the Earth. Rhea planned for three days, but experience had taught her to never expect things to go smoothly. “Greetings, thank you for your punctuality. I apologize for my own tardiness; sometimes I get lost in my own world.” Rhea said with an apologetic smile, her symmetrical features lighting up an otherwise gloomy room. “I trust you all have your affairs in order?” she asked, studying the faces of those gathered. “I’ve personally selected you all for this particular stage of this journey as we are venturing into unknown territories and you all have proven to be exceptional in your fields, and while not every one of you is a scholar or historian, let us not diminish the essential contributions of our defenders who will keep us safe from the hostile defences we are certain to encounter.” She said, nodding towards Brynja, Solandil, Gaius and Balroth in particular. “I do expect that Judena, Anifaire, and Daro’Vasora will take the time to study and record our progress as well as points of interest as the three of them are our research experts, and Daro’Vasora as graciously volunteered to be our pathfinder, an endeavor she will be accompanied by Latro and Alim. Meg will act as our rear-guard and markswoman in the event there should be a target out of our reach, and Durantel will accompany her or any of the others who break off outside of the pathfinding team. The rest will act as a protection detail and muscle should the situation require; we do not know the state of the lower levels nor what we will encounter, but strength will doubtless be necessary.” She clasped her hands together, rubbing them with anticipation. “Well then, let’s not tarry. To the lift.” Leading the group onto the lift, the group fit on with plenty of room to spare; it could have easily fit two Centurions standing shoulder to shoulder. Pulling a lever down to the 5th notch, the accordion-style gate closed and the four heavy gears like the front doors began to creak into motion and the group descended below. The first two levels of the ruin beneath the entryway were evidentially the military quarters of the structure, where the trappings of barracks and support facilities like a mess hall and armoury were supported by defensive structures and weaponry, along with adequate training facilities for a number of Dwemer, likely to defend against possible invaders. Beneath that, the following two levels were the living quarters and commercial center for the inhabitants where stores and community centers had existed. The fifth level where the lift had stopped opened up to a massive industrial center where automated processes had stopped countless years before, numbers of all manner of automata were in various states of construction when the machines stopped. It was clear that when the structure was fully operational, it would be able to produce dozens of machines per day. The room was about three stories high with meter-wide pillars holding the colossal curved ceiling in place and a number of pipes and ducts to ventilate the fumes of the automation process. A half-dozen workers from the expedition were working down in this area, two of which were pulling apart a Centurion that was laid out on a slab, and the party passed by with a series of nods and tired waves. At the end of the long corridor was another lift, this one watched by a pair of guards. Seeing Rhea, they stepped aside and let everyone board the lift. Before they headed down, she said, “No one has been any further down than this level, and this is the first time we’ve operated this lift. As soon as we begin our descent, prepare for danger.” One Rhea looked to each of the party to see an acknowledgement, the lever was pulled and the lift began to crank downwards with a groan. “Now, for those of you counting, we’re heading to the 7th level and bypassing the 6th since the next level down is accessible via ladders and a singular stairwell and it looks to be a forging facility where the Dwemer alloys were forged into the parts that went into their weapons, armour, and automata. Our next stop is further down.” The lift continued its slow descent and true to her word, the lift passed by the 6th level, which looked like some kind of foundry through the grating. Soon, solid material blocked the view, and it was clear that they were descending through a rather thick floor. When the material gave way, darkness reigned, except for faint cyan objects that glowed softly along the walls. The sound of rushing water eventually became evident, and a series of torch-like lamps illuminated a walkway down below. Whatever this place was, it had been kept in a largely natural state with only the bare minimum of Dwemer engineering to keep the area accessible. Suddenly, the lift lurched to a sudden violent stop, the sound of heavy stones and metal crashing into the ground a few seconds later. “Something must have-” Daro’Vasora began to say, cut off from the sudden groaning of the lift. “I think we should find a way off before it gets stuck or drops…” the Khajiit trailed off, realizing there wasn’t much in the way to do that, safe for what looked like handholds carved into the back wall. Perhaps if one were to… Without warning, a deafening crack was followed by the sound of free fall, the lift descending at high velocity, two of the gears suddenly giving out entirely and the lift tilted onto a high angle, threatening to pull people into the gap below before the protective grating on the side gave out and an opening ejected several members of the party off of the lift into a free fall for several terrifying seconds before they splashed into a deep pool of water, slowing down just enough to touch bottom without injury when the current began to carry them further down, prompting those who had fallen into the water to grab onto anything that would support their weight to avoid being sucked down further into the darkness, and the unknown. The lift managed to catch with its remaining two gears, the platform screeching against the tracks when it struck the bottom, giving a nasty jolt to any who remained. Though no one had sustained any serious injury in the ordeal, it became apparently clear that the way back up was no longer an option. “Is everyone alright?” Rhea called out, pulling herself up from the lift and helping out the person beside her get to her feet. “Could we get some light, please?” Under the lift was evidently something that had cushioned the fall, and strange black shapes were scattered across the platform. Crouching to the lift to peer underneath, it became immediately clear what had both blocked the gear and prompted the fall while cushioning the descent; a chitin structure that would have been immediately familiar to anyone who had spent time in Skyrim’s underworld. “By the Eight.” Rhea inhaled, not believing their luck. “Falmer.” However, the cave remained silent, save for the running water and the sounds of the party members struggling to pull themselves out of the water. [center]* * *[/center] When the elevator jolted to a halt, Latro stumbled back against the wall behind him, a confused and worried look breaking his usual easygoing demeanor. A scant few seconds offered him what he thought were going to be his last thoughts- [i]What was that? I hope the elevator doesn’t fall...[/i] And then the elevator fell. It had reached a speed on its descent where Latro’s feet remained at least one inch from the floor before he was completely weightless with no bearing of up or down. Seemingly thrown into an abyss, screaming, with thoughts filling his head he once again thought to be his last- [i]fuc-[/i] It wasn’t exactly just the cold water that ripped his thoughts from his head and breath from his chest, it was also the impact. Blank-minded, he let himself hang and drift there, unable to will his body to move before he regained his bearings. He was in water, he had to find the surface, and quickly. With as strong of pulls as he could, he swam upwards- or hoping that it was upwards- until he broke the surface as he hoped he would. He heaved in a breath and an echoing, growly yell filled the cavern he was in, sheer, raw, animal joy at survival. Scarce light from a few specklings of luminescent fungi were all the reminders he needed that he was alive. Also, that there was a walkway. He swam towards it, all the strength in his arms being almost depleted by his panicking swim to the surface. Even so, he managed to clamber onto the slick, hard surface of it. Eyes closed, he let himself lay there for a few long breaths, heart pounding in his ear. When it quieted, he got to his feet, wringing his hair out. A frantic thought darted his hand to his shoulder, feeling the strap of his pack, he then rummaged through the soaked contents of it to find his polished stone and his peace of mind. For the third time, he thought his frantic search and panic at the prospect of losing his stone to a subterranean pool would be his last thoughts. Something grasped his shoulder and he grabbed the wrist the hand was attached to, whirling around with his axe in his hand held high, ready to bury its head in… Daro’Vasora was stood opposite him and he hurriedly returned his axe to its loop on his belt. He bowed his head in apology and took a step back from her. “It would seem we are alone down here.” He said, observing the vastness of the chamber they were in, illuminated in a ghostly pale blue light, “Well… what say we pick a direction, then.” For her part, Daro’Vasora flicked her wrists, trying to get the excess water to shed from her fur. If Latro was soaked, she was positively saturated. She had almost managed to retain a grip on the platform that the group had likely ended up gathering at before her claws had slipped and she went on a dark, terrifying ride through the underwater river that robbed her of a sense of direction. When she found purchase, she was relieved to see one other person there, the same one that had nearly split her skull in fright. Not really finding cause to blame Latro for his reaction, she didn’t mention anything of the sort. Her eyes began to adjust, and the cavern became much easier for her to make out than the others on account of her feline vision; it was massive and smoothed out, and even the river seemed to be a purpose-built channel rather than an entirely natural formation. “Alone that we know of.” She replied, digging her long fingers along her brow and snout, peeling back more water. “We can’t be too far from the others, can we?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself to preserve warmth. “Look for a walkway?” She offered, hopefully helpfully. “Let’s.” Latro replied, simply. Trudging on, soaking wet and shivering, the pair walked in the direction they hoped would lead them to whatever would be their hope. Latro held up a quivering hand, forced his thoughts away from the numbness of his fingers and instead pictured a scene of pristine white in his mind. Not but a moment later, a ball of light took flight from his hand at a feather’s pace, meandering along behind him and offering better light in their trying time. Something urged Latro to stop and he held his breath. A few seconds waiting gave Latro’s answer to his feline companion, looking back at her- something was moving, somewhere. His first thought was a cave troll, but they were far too below Nirn’s surface to encounter one. Not only that, but the steps could hardly be called so, more like a manic beating on the ground, scuttling. He swallowed, “Should keep walking...” For the next few moments, Latro’s mind was utter silence, his eyes pulled towards every shadow and hint of movement, not knowing if his mind was the one filling the darkness with terror. Even so, he wished to be relieved of it with the feeling of safety that only numbers could bring. Numbers and light. Shapes moved in Daro’Vasora’s vision and she felt her chest tighten in abject horror; pale humanoid shapes of the Falmer became clear to her, investigating the trespass in their domain. They were one of the few outright fears she had, and this was the first time she’d seen them in person. She always had fears of them stealing her off in the night, to use as a captive or a meal, and their pale, eyeless hides filled her with dread. These ones, however, seemed to be wearing some leftover Dwemer armour and weaponry, which was different than anything she’d heard about in their behaviours before. Regardless, she grabbed Latro by the wrist and pulled him behind a large rock, his light spell blinking out instantly, and her heart pounding in her chest. “Falmer.” she managed, her lips suddenly dry and the cold sensation fading instantly. “We can’t let them see us. We can’t-” A booming groan filled the cavern, unlike anything she’d ever heard before in her life. Excited shrieks filled the air and the sound of trampling feet. Chancing another look, the Falmer were gone. Somehow that made things so much worse. The groan boomed again, and something shook the cavern. Now as curious as she was terrified, the Khajiit tried to see what had caused the Falmer to scatter. Past a certain point, she couldn’t see… But a shape certainly moved, blocking out the glowing fungus along the walls. She gasped and slunk lower, not sure what on Nirn she was looking at. One of the Falmer, hiding behind another rock further up ahead, tried to break cover when it was suddenly illuminated with a bright blue light from whatever that [I]thing[/I] was, something the Falmer didn’t react to, being blind. Suddenly, a spiked harpoon pierced through the darkness and impaled the Falmer, yanking it back into the shadows where its blood curdling shriek was cut short with a loud clang. The groaning continued and the thing continued to move, distinctly spider-like legs navigating the interior or its domain. A structure caught Daro’Vasora’s eyes. Could they make it? “We can’t stay here, we’re exposed. There’s some kind of old structure over there, we can make it if we run.” she explained excitedly, hoping to Alkosh she was right. Latro needed no more explaining, only nodded. He closed his eyes, pulling in a breath through his nose, letting it go through his mouth a little too shuddering than he would’ve liked. He swallowed, gathering himself. Then he ran. Any notion of soft footsteps was thrown to the wind as even his light feet seemed to echo to his horror. His only thought was that structure and the safety it might bring. The crossing felt like a mile’s worth of running, but he skidded to a halt behind it. His hand covered his mouth and its shuddering breaths until they finally slowed. He looked around whatever they’d decided to take shelter in, noticing the leather-like feel of the walls of this tent-structure, the posts of it hard and rough like sandstone. Falmer. Whatever that thing was outside, the Falmer feared it. Rightfully so, but so much that they’d seemingly abandoned their little outpost here. He hazarded a glance outside and all seemed still. He looked left to right, up and down, saw nothing. The scarce light of the fungi helped none. Still, the memory of that scuttling played over and over in his mind. He opened his mouth, “I-” Something blinding fast cut across his vision, its silhouette blocking the scarce light but so quickly he couldn’t tell what it was in the few moments he saw it before he ducked his head back into the tent. “By the Gods...” he breathed. He peeked back out of the tent to see a few more farther down the path. If they could go from tent to tent, they could gain enough distance from this thing and maybe even find the others or the surface. Hopefully both. “Come.” He looked back to where he’d last seen the silhouette before he pointed and nodded to the tents he’d seen earlier. He trusted Vasora understood as he took off at a crouched run towards them, stopping at the closest and ducking inside. A few moments behind him, Vasora joined him, the two keeping their breaths quiet and listening. Latro could hear nothing. “If we make it out of this alive,” Daro’Vasora said suddenly, breaking the quiet. “You’ll have quite the song to sing, bard.” she looked past the Breton and tried to take in the surroundings, quickly sighting the walkway that they were likely to have come from. “We’ll need to warn the others, but let’s see if that thing leaves first, yes?” Latro and Vasora stayed in their tent for a few long minutes, the length of time lost on him for his concentration on listening out for that dreaded thing. All was calm in the caverns, it seemed. There had not been anymore of those disturbing groans, nor any of the chittering and screeching from the Falmer. He looked to Vasora and she looked at him, the both of them very well thinking the same thing. Latro peeked out once more, holding his breath and listening, watching. Nothing. He shook his head, breathing once again and took the most cautious step he’d ever made in his life outside of the tent. Nothing. He inched his body out of the threshold of the tent’s safety until he was completely out and standing. It seemed the danger had passed. He looked at Vasora, “Well,” He shrugged, “Let us continue?”