[center][h1]A Golden Escape[/h1] A LadyTabris, [@BurningCold], and [@MiddleEarthRoze] collaboration. [/center] What would happen now, with the mountain blown apart? Would the metal creatures dwelling within remain guarding the halls of their dead masters, or would they spill into civilisation with the way open for them? The thought of the behemoth that had stalked the stone ceilings crawling over innocent cities was spine-chilling. Sol was hardly a champion for the people, but to leave anyone to a fate such as that would be abominable. Not that there was anything he could do by himself about it... for now, all he could was follow instructions given. Relax in the city for three days, and then meet up at Rhea's house for payment. As if Solandil could relax. It was unsettling, walking those unwelcomingly familiar streets again. The scars of war had mostly vanished from the spick and span city, but Sol could still taste the scent of smoke and blood on the air as if he were a soldier again. This was his first time back in Imperial City since the death of his beloved brother and his abandonment of his people and army. Suffice to say, Sol was eager to take his payment and get the hell out of the city. Where to, he didn't know - with luck he could pick up a new contract before his departure and then be on his way for future job prospects. Due to his payment being delayed by another three days, Sol made do with the cheapest inn he could find, The Bloated Float. Despite his aversion to swimming, he'd always found the bobbing of ships on the water quite comforting, in a way. Even when sailing away from Valinor in a crammed navy ship, he'd caught better rest there than some nights in his own regal home. Still, the events that had transpired only some hours before meant for restlessness, no matter how dog-tired he felt. After settling into his modest room on board the ship, Sol dwindled while perched on his bed, long pale fingers drumming his bent knees idly. He had three days to entertain himself without spending too much money. That meant no drinking at the inns, no matter how tempting it was to whittle away his time there. He had no patience to lend himself to the fighting pits, certainly not in his current state. Too fatigued, and still sore from his most recent adventure gone awry. Thumbing his last few septims that lay in the palm of his hand, Sol scowled at the meagre amount. Just 12 left over from the nights paid here (Sol had managed to haggle the innkeep down from 20 to 15 for two nights, after a brief look at the somewhat dilapidated quarters, and an intimidating glare that soon followed.). Sighing and pocketing the remainder of his money, laying back on the creaky bed and closing his eyes. It had been a long day. Most of his first day was spent holed up in the small room, sleeping and keeping to himself. He had no desire to go out and mingle with the others in the inn, nor did he want to be tempted to throw his money away on alcohol. It was also easier to avoid the chatter from within about what had happened in the Jerall Mountains. News travelled fast, and people had already been talking about the disaster when the group had arrived in Imperial City. He had no patience for their theories about what may have happened, especially when he knew the truth. Well... some of the truth, anyway. He still had no idea what had [i]really[/i] created such a cataclysmic event, nor what the purpose behind such a construct was. All he knew was his employer's - and by default, his - hands in it. Suffice to say, Solandil was ready to take his pay and never encounter Rhea again. While he held nothing personally against the woman, this job was turning out to be far too much trouble than it was worth. After spending several hours in isolation, Sol spent the law few hours before meeting up with the others stretching his legs, and eating the last of his food. It was nothing too expensive; some bread, cheese, even an apple. Having packed up his belongings and vacated the Bloated Float, Sol wandered around the waterfront, finding it surprisingly calm. The ghosts of his past seemed to dwindle as he made his way around the docks. Despite the hustle and bustle going about the boats there, there was an odd serenity across the bay. He hadn't ventured into this area during the war, so the peaceful water and scenery was untainted by his memories. Settling himself on the sand with his food, Sol almost found himself relaxing as he lounged and watched the world go by. Almost relaxed, that is. Just as he'd finished his last bite of bread, screams from the city captured his attention. Looking up into the still green-tinged sky, Sol watched on in horror as great ships descended from the sky like creatures of Oblivion. [i]"Oh, for the love of-!"[/i] Scrambling to his feet, Sol's swords were drawn before he'd even gained his balance. Whatever the attacking force was, they seemed to be ignoring the docks for the most part, though he knew it was only a matter of time before they'd turn their attention towards modes of transport. The waterfront would be a hotspot, and Sol very nearly turned to flee in the opposite direction before he paused, gritting his teeth. The group he had been with... it was about an hour before they were due to be at Rhea's place, but some of them could still be there. If not that, they'd definitely still be in the city. His interactions with them had been slim, but something stopped the elf from leaving the city boundaries. Faces of those he had trawled through the darkness with flashed across his mind, and Solandil grimaced. Maybe the more-than expected treacherous adventure had formed bonds he hadn't anticipated. "I still need paying." He muttered darkly to no-one in particular, before sprinting towards the gates to the Temple District, ready for a fight. [hr][hr] As he stalked through the shadows of the great Imperial City, Mortalmo lips moved fervently in silent, desperate prayer. Syrabane and Magnus, keep his connection to the mystic strong against the coming trials. Y’ffre, ensure that he remain swift and sure-footed when the time comes to flee or to charge. Xarxes, teach him the sagacity to make only wise decisions in the face of uncertainty. Mara, though they are far and scattered, keep those few he still holds dear safe from harm. Phynaster, in his absence, safeguard his home and its inhabitants from the growing threat. Stendarr, grant him the courage to always walk the right path, regardless of darker temptations. Trinimac, lend him the strength needed to overcome any obstacle the tumultuous future should place before him. And Auri-El, guide his every step so that never does he stray from the divine plan. The words repeated themselves in Mortalmo’s mind over and over again as he sought divine protection and guidance from his gods. Yet even as his mind raced, his eyes were sharp and steady, his muscles taut as he crept along. Agitated as Mortalmo was, the incessant prayers did much to drown out the anxious and panicked thoughts that endeavored to arise within his psyche. So he continued his journey, hurrying as fast as he dared while attempting to avoid the detection of the dwemer constructs. He had to find Anifaire, and quickly. The two of them had spent a large portion of their first day within the city in one another’s company. The poor girl had seemed utterly lost mere moments after stepping within the city proper. It was his simple duty, then, to accompany her until she gained a sense of comfort. The two had shared a lovely stroll through the gardens, reminiscing together on the virtue of their homeland. It was a comfort for Mortalmo to know that, green as she was, Anifaire was still armed with cultural pride befitting of her station. That was days ago now though, and the subject of their next meeting would be far more grim. If the gods were good, Mortalmo thought, there would be a next time. As he approached an intersection in the roads, he paused to consider what route would get him to what he hoped was Anifaire’s current location fastest. An ominous hiss disrupted his thought process, however, and it was only through the use of a hastily casted ward that a dwemer sphere’s blade slid harmlessly off of the magical barrier, rather than digging deep into the Altmer’s flesh. Cursing, Mortalmo rose to his full height, extending an open palm to his side as a purple blade, shimmering with ethereal energy, found purchase in his grip. Deflecting another stab, Mortalmo dispelled the ward before swinging at the construct with cold fury. [hr][hr] As he re-entered the city, Sol realised several things. Firstly, he didn't recognise the attackers. They had with them machines very similar from the Dwemer ruins, even wearing armour that was of Dwemer design. This sent a cold shiver down Solandil's spine, but he was too busy evading capture and fighting to pay much attention to connect the dots. It was here he realised the second thing: He was better at sneaking than he'd realised. Although not great enough to avoid complete detection (And having to put down several attackers, all automatons), he was able to sneak quite far into the city. Thirdly, as he found himself in a very unfamiliar Market District, Sol realised that he didn't know the City as well as he thought, and was quite lost. Finding the others in his group seemed a pointless endeavour at this point, and the Altmer was about ready to leave when he caught sight of a very familiar face. "What are you doing up there?" He shouted incredulously to Anifaire, seeing her clutching at the balcony above. The girl was either hopelessly lost or just hopeless. Either way, he couldn't believe she'd been allowed on the expedition what with being so green. "Solandil?" Anifaire scrambled to her feet, gripping the balcony rail until her fingers turned white. "I'm... I'm stuck. Sort of. There were a lot of Spheres." She glanced around the balcony for a handhold to climb back over the the crates. Finding one, she swung a leg over the rail, looking nervously at the ground. "I'll, uh... come down, now." She stepped out precariously, gripping a windowsill, and finally landed on the stacked crates. From there, she scrambled back down to the street, nearly losing her balance once, but managing to catch herself. Well, she didn't look very stuck, which was Sol's first thought as he waited by impatiently, looking all around him as he waited for her. Their foes could spring from anywhere, and the pale Altmer was visibly ansty about sticking in one place for too long; bouncing on the balls of his feet, partially crouched and hands gripping his sword hilts tighter than a miser holds his purse. Sol wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but it didn't take much thought for it to connect to their business in the Jerall Mountains. The two events were too close to one another to not be related. As Anifaire stumbled to his side, now off the balcony, Sol pondered momentarily as to why he had stopped to help her. As much as he liked to pretend he was a self-serving, save-your-own-skin type, he couldn't stop himself from playing the hero. Telling himself it was just because he knew her face, Sol shrugged off his self-doubts and scanned the streets before looking to the younger Altmer woman. "We need to get out of the city." He said quietly, as if their very conversation was enough to draw unwanted attention amidst the chaos of the battles on the streets. Going back the way he'd come seemed like the best idea, but it was a long way back to the Waterfront. Finding the nearest exit would be their best bet, and then finding whatever group they could to survive in. Of all the companions Anifaire could've run into, Sol was probably somewhere in the middle of the road. She hadn't talked very much with him, and he was quite funny looking, but he was an Altmer, at least, so there was some commonality. It could've been a stranger, who may have totally abandoned her when he saw how useless she was in a fight. She spared a thought for those she'd become more accustomed to in her travels. Durantel, had he left the city? Or Judena, the strange Argonian. Alim? Instead of pondering her new.. companions, she turned her attention to Solandil, wondering if they were even going to get out of the city. Was she going to die here, after surviving that expedition? "Do you have any idea how?" she answered. "Of cours-" Sol began blurting out the words before he stopped himself, looking around him. Could he remember the way out? So focused on his sneaking and survival, Solandil once again found himself lost in the city. Strange, how it was so familiar in this time that he could almost be back to his first and only visit - but also so unfamiliar that he couldn't attempt to find his bearings. The wilderness would be easier and safer to trek through than the maze of increasingly bloodied stone that surrounded them. Still wheeling around in an attempt to avoid danger and find an exit, Sol paused as he forced logic into his panicked mind. Think. There were only certain exits in the Imperial City, and all of them could be found on the towering marble walls that surrounded the area. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he locked eyes with Anifaire. "We'll make for the walls. Whichever way we go, we'll find a gate, and after that, our group." Though he still had no idea how to find the group, he felt it appropriate to add it to the plan. Perhaps Anifaire had some kind of magical trick up her sleeve to help in this. "I hope you know the way around," Anifaire replied. [i]I've already been lost a few times.[/i] It was really impossible to tell that she'd ever lived in the city. With someone else to rely on, she felt less panicked and gestured for Sol to lead the way. She tried to keep her head clear and figure out if there was anything she ould do to help them out of the situation, perhaps make them invisible? But no, she didn't have enough of a grasp on the spell to be confident in that. In her head, she weighed the possibilities of just [i]how[/i] bad things could be. Falmer, or Dwemer and automations? Somehow, she thought she'd rather go back to crisping Falmer. That, she thought she might be able to repeat. But the automations were metal, and she doubted fire would do them in very quickly. Not bothering to answer Anifaire - because the answer would be a very embarassing 'no' - Solandil beckoned for her to follow as he began skirting the edges of the buildings, swords still drawn ready. He wondered if the others in the group would have an answer for what evil had befallen the city. It was connected to their excavation for sure, but how was it connected? Questions Solandil didn't have an answer to, nor would he if they died in this city. By sheer dumb luck, Solandil and Anifaire hadn't even made it to the city walls before coming across another of their group. Surrounded by the same mechanical monstrosities that had attacked Sol earlier, Mortalmo stood in the streets alone. Whether others of the group were nearby, Sol couldn't see any either dead or alive - but it was a relief to see another face he knew. "Durantel! Have you met any others?" Calling to his fellow Altmer, Sol continued scanning the area for more foes. They were literally descending from the sky, so he didn't have the time to let his guard drop for even a second. The older Altmer grunted as he forced the blade of the automaton away from him, before swiping his own weapon clean through the machine's narrow midsection. The thing clattered loudly to the stonework in two severed pieces. Mortalmo released a thin sigh as his sword faded into whisps of violet smoke. The single construct hadn't been more than a trifle, though a group of those things posed an undeniable threat. There were surely enough roaming the city to overpower any lone warrior. It was only then that he properly noticed the source of the inquiry cast his way moments ago. Peering towards the pair, creases of relief appeared across his face as he glanced in Anifaire's direction, before fixing Solandil with an even stare. Eyes glancing around warily, Mortalmo began to speak, approaching the two elves. "I was looking for this one," He said, extending a hand in the direction of the fairer Altmer, before reaching out with the same hand towards Solandil. "Though it is just as fortunate to see that you are well." "It is good to see you are safe, Durantel," Anifaire greeted. She felt somewhat better about the situation since the other Altmer had arrived, and was grateful he had been seeking her. Surely, he would know how to get out of the city. She subsided, leaving the decision making to the others as she was accustomed to doing when in her homeland. If it wasn't academic, she rarely spoke out of turn, and especially in a tense situation such as this one, she found comfort in the normality. "Aye, it's good to see you as well." Judging by Durantel's answer, he was alone in his battles. At least now the three of them together had a fighting chance to get out of this godsforsaken city in one piece. "We need to leave, as soon as possible. If there are others in the group still alive, chances are that they've fled the city and are probably making for the nearest safe haven." Thinking from the top of his head, there were several cities roughly the same distance away if one didn't factor in terrain. Cheydinhal, Chorrol, Bruma and Skingrad. Looking once more to the green sky, Sol shuddered lightly. "North... seems like a bad direction to go in. Skingrad to the south seems best." He added grimly, wondering if the other two held the same hunch he did. To the north were the Jerall Mountains, and if these attackers had anything to do with their venture there, it would likely be a poor descision to head back that way. Mortalmo nodded his head, a slight motion that was as much assent as anything. "To Skingrad then." His tone carried with it all the poise and self-assurance that it had been known for; yet, a growing pit in his stomach betrayed, even if only to himself, any true sense of confidence. He cast a quick glance at the sickly sky, and shuddered. What had they released within that mountain? In Mortalmo's mind, there was no doubt that the ill-fated expedition had played an unwitting role in preparing the attack that was now causing havoc throughout the city. "I have made it this far taking a subtler approach," He gestured to the ruined automaton at his feet. "This one was the first to discover me. I suggest that the three of us strike a balance between stealth and rapidity." Anifaire, relieved that her party sounded certain about their route, hoped they would be able to stay hidden. She had never travelled to Skingrad, or really many of the other cities they mentioned, and her knowledge of foreign geography was sparse, so she had no sense of where they would be heading. She hoped it wouldn't be a long walk on foot, as she wouldn't be very prepared for that. Still, present difficulties being Dwemer automations, it was of little concern yet. Nervously, she moved to follow the rest of the party, sticking close behind Durantel. The Altmer briefly considered their expedition and its relation to the massive ships in the sky, and opened her mouth to ask about it, but shut it instead. It wasn't the time to begin a discussion. [hr][hr] The cautious trek through the city towards the bridge gate was as quick as they dared to move - three Altmer's together did attract attention, but with the crowds of people scattered screaming throughout, the trio were able to avoid much detection. As there had been no guaranteed way for them to get across Lake Rumare, the bridge leading from the Talos Plaza District had become their main goal. As luck would have it, the three only encountered a handful of enemies to dispatch before making it to the gate before it was overrun. Amidst the chaos of guards attempting to stem the flow of the attackers, Anifaire, Durantel and Solandil were able to slip out with a few other citizens and flee to the west. No significant attempt was made to follow the escapees... clearly, taking the city was the main goal of the Dwemer-cladded attackers. The farther the group journeyed from the city, Anifaire slowly became more at ease. It took time for the tension she felt, the anxiety that a Dwemer automation may be around the corner, to ease. Though her feet became sore and blistered as they walked the road to Skingrad, she felt better with every step farther from danger. Still, the same thoughts picked at her the she wondered if her two companions were thinking: Had they done something to cause this on the expedition? It was Mortalmo then, that finally voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing Anifaire's thoughts so. "Though the two of you may have reached other conjectures, there is little doubt in my mind that whatever it is that the expedition trifled with while under that mountain... is in direct correlation to the recent attack. Perhaps even causation." Beneath the matter of fact tone he spoke with, there was subtler sense of consternation tinging Mortalmo's speech. "If that truly is the case... Auri-El forgive us." And, for what hadn't been the first time upon leaving the city, and certainly would not be the last, the centuries old mer lapsed once again into muttered, barely audible prayer, eyes scanning the group's surroundings warily. As for Solandil, he chose to remain silent, face hidden by his helm. He'd already reached the same conclusion, but found no point in praying to anyone. The Aedra had never answered his prayers before, and he certainly didn't expect them to now. Unsure how to reply, Anifaire muttered in agreement, uttering her own prayer. She glanced back at the city, dread in her heart. Would they expand, from there? She considered asking Durantel, but looked at the ground instead. "Auri-El save us." [hr][hr] The journey passed slowly, for Anifaire. Each night, as the party set up a small camp to get some rest, the woman was unable to help. She would collect a bucket of water and rewrap her blistering feet, thankful that she wasn't alone. Durantel and Solandil were competent at their tasks, far more accustomed to travel than she was. When she had previously been on the road, she'd had a carriage to sit in or a horse to ride, aside from the also tiring trek back to the Imperial City after the expedition. She wished now for her home and family, her father and mother's protection and the warmth of her childhood bed. Still, seeing Automations working and up close was an amazing thing. The farther they were from the city, the more she was able to appreciate the wonder of what she had experienced rather than only the terror. And those flying ships? What a feat of engineering. If only the Dwemer hadn't attacked. Anifaire would have been interested in speaking with one. Though, they did enslave the Falmer, so it wasn't a surprise, exactly. She wished they had remained archaeological research subjects for her. As he had had been when he left the city, Solandil remained mostly silent during the journey to Skingrad. Each slow trek and rest-stop made him clench his jaw in impatience, as he was eager to get as far away from the capital and towards safer civilisation as soon as possible. But any sour expression was hidden from the others by either his scarf or helmet - and no matter how paranoid he became at each and every stop the three made, Sol couldn't bring himself to abandoning them. He had no doubt that Anifaire was stronger than she looked, and even then, Durantel would have no issue in looking after her. But he was bonded with these people by what they had fled together... and what they had done deep in the Mountains. None of them had activated the mechanism that had (most likely) started this fresh hell off, but everyone in the group would be equally as responsible. That's how Sol saw it, anyway. Not particularly wanting to speak or hypothesize about what exactly had occured, Sol kept himself busy with foraging for food, though with no skill in hunting or having access to any ranged arsenal, failed to find a filling meal most nights. He also took his turns in keeping guard at night around a crackling fire, allowing Anifaire to get more sleep than was equal simply because it seemed she needed it the most. Durantel too, ensured that the youth had adequate time to rest. Clearly the younger Altmer wasn't used to travelling as they had, so doggedly as if the Dwemer automatons were nipping at their heels. For Mortalmo's part, the flight from the Imperial Capital was par for the course for him. The ex-justiciar had many a time found himself chasing desperate fugitives across the land; they had always tired first. Though this time, it was he that was the prey fleeing from a threat far greater than what he and his two companions were capable of facing. It harkened back to a time centuries ago, when the daedra first spread their foul taint into Mortalmo's homeland. Fleeing doggedly on horseback, his baby brother clutched carefully against his chest, the young Mortalmo had sworn to never again be in a situation like this. To never again run from a foe. It was a naive thing to promise, Mortalmo knew that now. He had learned it more times than he would like to admit, during his military service. Perhaps that was why the role of a justiciar suited him so. Nobody, not a single soul, had the upper hand over a justiciar. Not that he could claim to be a justiciar any longer. That honor had been lost to him nearly a decade ago. The presence of Solandil and Anifaire both acted as no small comfort to Mortalmo. Despite the albino's physical discrepancies, he was a capable warrior and a stalwart travel companion. Anifaire too, unaccustomed to such conditions as they found themselves in, steeled herself admirably against the trials she faced. Not once had she cried aloud in complaint, despite the visible discomfort that sometimes etched itself upon her countenance. When Mortalmo considered the alternatives, he shuddered. Better an albino and a young lady than a cat. Or worse yet... a lizard. [hr][hr] Six days it had been. Six days of prayer, tense nerves, and uncomfortable silence. Some might describe what happened next as the work of Talos, or Akatosh, or perhaps even Auri-El. For Mortalmo's part, he cursed Lorkhan. Ahead of the three altmer, a collection of familiar faces stood. The oldest of the mer found his eyes resting on an argonian that he had never desired to see again. Mortalmo stared ahead, entirely aghast at his misfortune. "Stendarr have mercy."