With what little time Rhea granted for rest, Brynja settled onto the ground, her sword resting atop her knees. Her joints ached. She felt twice her age, and her towering height didn’t help. A sip of ale would taste great now. Gods be damned. She had crushed the last bit of her alcohol during the fall. At least her pants were dry. Her gaze swept over the front of her armor, flecks of blood adorned her armor like tiny rubies. The nauseating smell of death did not affect her as much as it once did. That didn’t mean that the stench in the air wasn’t foul. She could hear someone emptying their stomach not too far away. It wasn’t before long when Rhea gave the command to get on their feet and keep moving. Now that Vasora and Latro were back, Rhea put them at the front. Turned out, Khajiit’s could see better in the dark. Brynja fell into the rear of the group, she didn’t want any of those who were injured to be afflicted with a surprise attack. It appeared, that the direction they were being led, was the area that Vasora and Latro had encountered during their separation from the group. For Brynja, the crumbling structures scattered in the darkness, were foreign silhouettes of a society unknown to those who cohabited on the earth above. A shiver crept up her spine. What a miserable way to die. Even if the Falmer were now the scum of the underworld, at one point they were sentient beings just like those in her company. And they were forced below the surface of the world, forced away from the light of day, forced away from the sweet scent of fresh air, forced away from everything they knew. [i]“Everyone, quiet!”[/i] Daro’Vasora’s voice cut through the air, a sharp hiss that caught her attention. [i]Thump. Thump. THUMP.[/i] [i]‘What in the-’[/i] A deep, reverberating groan echoed throughout the cavern. She could feel the vibrations rattling her armor. Her eyes widened as she gazed on at Daro’Vasora, then it came. At first, it sounded like a baby crying, except there was more than one baby. And it wasn’t a baby. The cries belonged to Falmer. And while her ears might not be as sharp as the Khajiit before her, she could hear the approaching set of footfalls. Wet leather slapping against cold stone. She reached for her longsword, drawing it out from her back. Again, the cries of the Falmer were heard, were they headed their direction? The group wasn’t in the position to take on so many Falmer. She swore. A brilliant flash of light lit up the entire cavern, and for a few seconds, Brynja was left in a dazed state, trying to blink away the white dots filling her vision. [i]“Everyone listen.”[/i], Vasora said, where she proceeded to relay grave information on the source behind the light, and vibrations. Some type of Dwemer mechanism that was capable of impaling anyone caught in its light. For fucks sake. Again. [i]Thump. Thump. THUMP.[/i] Brynja’s heart pounded like a war drum, matching each of the [i]thumps[/i]. Her hands felt slick against the leather wrapped pommel. If it weren’t for Vasora’s keen eyes, they would be stuck out in the open. Yet, the entire group took refuge under a large gazebo-like structure. The beam of light flashed again, sweeping across the chamber. It reminded her of a lighthouse. One that impaled beings under its vicious ray of light. The decision was made, she didn’t care. She wanted to live. And living meant getting the group to wherever this locked door was, without anyone perishing. She decided at once, she would bring up the rear, and fend off any attacks by the Falmer, should the creatures become desperate. “I’ve got the rear!” She called, the task at hand lent her the strength she needed to override her fear. Gods, a swig of brandy would help steady her nerves. But if fishes were wishes, the sea would be empty. That’s what her father always said.