Punctuality was never difficult for Anifaire. After a life of attending classes, meetings, and dinners, it was second nature. So, she found herself one of the first to arrive by the lift that day. All morning, a mixture of nerves and excitement had hold of her, rendering her unable to focus nor able to stomach breakfast. She had high hopes for what would be found down in the deeper levels. 

Rhea led the group into the lift, and Anifaire trailed onto it at the back of the group. Though not her first time in a lift after her recent time in these ruins, she still had to ignore how her stomach rolled when stepping over the gap between the floor and the lift. The space inside was too large for her liking, the dark hole, while not nearly large enough for a person to fall into, was unnerving. She wished for the comfort of something to grab onto should anything go awry, though this lift had never caused trouble and she’d been on it a few times now. Regardless, she lined herself up against the back wall of the lift. 

She did the same when they stepped onto the next lift on the fifth level. The high elf felt even more nervous, but still determined. This was unfamiliar territory they were descending into, and she’d have opportunities to see Dwemer remains and inscriptions before anyone touched or tampered with them, or perhaps looted in some cases. She eyed the mercenaries in her group, wondering if that type of greed was present in any of them. Not Sol, nor Durantel, she thought. She didn’t know them well, but she thought they’d respect the value of such items; they were from the Isles, and people there were intelligent in such matters. The others could do anything. She hoped that these people were competent at their jobs, at the least. Some of them seemed to be friendly. 

The words[i] this is the first time we’ve operated this lift[/i] rang in her ears as the aforementioned lift jolted into motion. As they passed by the sixth level, it became visible through the front of the lift, and Anifaire almost rushed across for a better look, but the presence of so many strangers allowed her to focus and rethink the embarrassment that would cause. She instead kept her place at the back of the lift, straining to get a glimpse of the industrial foundry. She hadn’t been studying anything on that newest level yet; she’d been preoccupied with inscriptions and such from the levels excavated earlier. 

As the sixth level faded from sight and the sound of rushing water met her ears, the lift lurched and stopped. The sounds of crashing and clanging echoed, and she clutched the bars behind her. The cat began to speak, but whatever it was saying flew from her mind as the floor disappeared beneath her and she grabbed onto the golden metal behind her as though her life depended on it, and she was most certain it did. 

 When the freefall ended, the lift catching itself on its last gears, the lift thudded against the ground, jolting those inside around. Anifaire was vaulted forwards, losing her grasp on the lift. She caught herself on the lift floor in time to save herself from injury, and scrambled to her feet belatedly as most of the others were already investigating the situation.

“By the Eight,” she heard Rhea breathe just as she was stepping out of the lift. “Falmer.” 

Ice cold hit Anifaire’s stomach. The elf turned around, examining the crushed structure underneath the broken lift.  She hadn’t really considered the possibility, especially since the upper levels had been unoccupied by Falmer, but now it seemed she was stuck with no way up in a Falmer infested Dwemer ruin, surrounded by strange people. It was a warped, nightmarish version of a dream. She stood stock still, her brain catching up to the reality of the situation, whatever conversation the others were having blocked from her mind. When Alim plunged into the water suddenly, she wondered if it was just her imagination.