[center][h3]Crashing Down[/h3] [i]Greenie Dervs did somesuch[/i][/center][hr][I]18th of Midyear, Mid-morning, Alik’r Desert…[/I] The tent’s flaps were tied open to allow the morning light to enter, as well as to provide what little breeze could be afforded in the Alik’r desert. Having followed the example of the native tribes, Daro’Vasora and Latro had their tent facing to the North, keeping the blazing sun from shining directly into the tent, and colourful fabrics were adorning the tent to provide extra layers against the permeating rays. It was a beautiful place, and Daro’Vasora quite enjoyed the inhabitants of these lands. She truly was beginning to understand even a sliver of what Shakti appreciated about her homelands. The Alik’r Desert was so much more than dunes and endless seas of sands; it was about the closeness of the people and how they adapted over centuries to be inseparable of the fabric of their home, like the individual blood cells pumping through the body. Daro’Vasora had managed to procure some small crates, which she covered with her mystery poncho, to use as a makeshift desk and some floor cushions to let her do her research and studying in relative peace and comfort. Latro was out and about somewhere, and across her desk was a map of Eastern Hammerfell and Western Skyrim with various thin strips of leather proposing different passages, her Dwemeri medical tome, opened to a page held by another strip, along with several ingredients in small jars that she’d gathered from a highlighted section, and the lexicon itself, the key to the entire endeavor. A teapot sat invitingly on some fire salts and it was in one of those cups she was invigorating the mind with some local brewed tea that was surprisingly sweet. She’d found a leather worker earlier in the day with what coin she had, but was politely refused; her and her friends had brought back many loved ones of the tribe and several of the city-folk, it was to be an honour to help where the craftsman and his apprentice could. At the very least, Daro’Vasora decided, she could translate some of the medical journal for these people while doing her own personal project for Judena, who had been very withdrawn of late. A shadow passed by the front of the tent, she looked up from her parchment and quill. Seeing a figure there, she called out, “Enter, if that’s what you’re after.” "Good morning." Accepting the invitation as soon as it was given, Sirine entered the tent, her steps quiet yet deliberate. Having eaten some dried fruits and quenched her thirst, she was feeling quite refreshed and had decided it might do good to wander and see what else the tent village had to offer. There were distractions a plenty, and she still had to go find Bakih to have that chat Zaveed had suggested the previous night... but for now she had someone else in mind. She was still unsure how the khajiit leader group deemed her, but Sirine figured if she was going to try and understand this motley group and integrate with them, it would be good to at least share a few words with Daro'Vasora. Goodness knew the last time they had exchanged words, it had been rather heated, but she bore no ill will or resentment towards the khajiit for that. She had to do what she had to in order to protect her friends. It was easier for Sirine to think in such a manner now… now that her brother was safe. Her eyes roamed over the makeshift desk, taking in the maps as well as the tome, and last of all, the lexicon, where her gaze remained for a few seconds before looking to the khajiit woman. She bore a friendly expression on her face, lips upturned in a slight smile. "My apologies if I caught you in the midst of some work," she said, gesturing with her hand at the tome and map. "I can come back at a later time if you wish." Daro'Vasora waved her hand lazily, as if half-heartedly clearing the air. “Oh, don't worry much about that. I'm an exceptional multitasker.” the Khajiit said with a shrug. “Sometimes lateral thinking while focusing on another problem yields results that otherwise elude me.” she gestured to the teapot. “Tea?” she offered. “I think it's using some dates and maybe aloe, but I'm hardly an alchemist. What can I do for you?” she asked, her expression neutral as she studied Sirine's face. She knew she was close and loyal to Zaveed and Sevari, but that hardly made her a hostile entity. Alliances were made under stress in peculiar fashion. "Very well then," Sirine replied with a nod, making her way closer to the khajiit, though she did pause at the mention of tea. "Don't mind if I do." Not one for elongating moments and making others wait impatiently, the former pirate quickly poured herself a cup of tea, taking only the time to sniff the tantalizing aroma before settling down on the ground cross legged. Holding her tea lightly with one hand, she settled the other in her lap, returning her attention to Daro’Vasora. "Well," she started, "I didn't actually come to ask a favour, rather to acknowledge and thank you for your help in retrieving my brother. I know your friend was there as well, and though it pained me then to admit it... it's more than clear that two khajiit and an Imperial would have had a very hard time- no, an impossible time to break into and come out alive from that place." Her eyes remained on Daro'Vasora as she continued. "My words were quite harsh and emotion driven when we first met in that desert, and I do understand why the same was from your and your lover's side-" Her eyes shifted to rest on her tea, letting out a small breath. "I am hoping perhaps we can have a fresh start." Daro'Vasora shook her head, topping up her own cup. “You've never done wrong by me or the others. You had been told my people were the enemy and you prepared for a fight on behalf of your benefactors. It's no different than us aligning ourselves with the insurgency, except the brothers haven't tried to kill you.” Daro'Vasora smiled tersely, taking a delicate sip before setting her cup down. “For what it's worth, I'm grateful and relieved you found your brother alive and well. I've lost my uncle to this war, and I fear for my sister's safety. She would have been preparing to make the journey to the Imperial City to visit me right around the time this invasion hit.” She let out a long sigh, meeting Sirine's eyes. “This war has cost a lot for everyone, and I won't pretend I have it worse than anyone else. I just want to make sure that I'm doing the right thing and trying to stop this war so no one else has to suffer.” "That's quite a task you've taken on yourself," the Imperial Redguard commented before taking a sip of her own tea. The taste was intriguing, not quite what she was used to, but something she could very well get used to. She let out a satisfied breath, though her mind was already occupied with other thoughts. Her eyes once returned to the desk, or rather the objects that lay upon it. "I'll be frank in saying I couldn't have cared less about this war, save vengeance for my brother having been stolen from me," she admitted, setting the cup down on the ground beside her. She recalled the resentment she had felt against Zaveed when he had mentioned he was a dwemer agent; her first instinct had been to simply cut him and let him bleed out in the bathtub- she was [i]quite[/i] relieved she had resisted that temptation. Shaking her head, she continued. "It isn't that way anymore, not quite. Having my brother back alive and well can't be enough." She wasn't like Daro'Vasora, she didn't quite have the compassion to care about anyone other than those she liked. But that included more than just Bakih now. She had friends, and she refused to think of their lives in danger. The dwemer posed a very big threat. "Am I safe in assuming you have some sort of plans or ideas on how to proceed with this... quest?" “If you're asking if I have anything more than a theory, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you.” Daro'Vasora admitted, picking up the lexicon and turning it within her hand. Something small that contained so much unspeakable power, it was hard to properly appreciate past the ornate and precision manufacturing of the object. “This lexicon, if I am correct and the Governor wasn't spinning a fable to me when I was her prisoner, is the key to everything. It should contain the coordinates to Exodus, the plane the Dwemer had vanished to at the Battle of the Red Mountain, and it simply needs a strong enough energy source to punch a hole and create a bridge between Mundus and wherever Exodus is located. It's like a cosmological map of sorts.” the Khajiit explained, setting it down. “If I'm right and mythology has a grain of truth to it, I think I know where I need to go to cross that bridge and close it from the other side.” Daro'Vasora said, turning her gaze to the map, the many long and winding paths that promised immeasurable hardship. “I'll go it alone if I must, but it's worse to do nothing and let this invasion continue unabated. Everything I love and hold dear is at risk, and I cannot lose anyone else, not without trying my damnest to fix this mistake I made.” Daro'Vasora straightened her posture after few lingering moments. “So, why do you ask? I figured you three would be gone by now, seeing your brother to safety and doing whatever you aspired to before encountering us.” "I don't think there's any place I can go where I wouldn't be accosted by the dwemer." Sirine bit the inside of her lip, wondering how to answer this rather pointed question. She wanted to leave the desert, but she had made a promise she didn't feel the desire to break. Even if she did, she would once more have to start from nothing, and she knew very well that Bakih would once again try to aid her in her endeavours despite having no real wish to head back into the life of a sailor. "Besides that..." she finally continued, still quite unsure of how to put her thoughts forward, "perhaps our feelings have changed? Sevari considers you all to be allies, and he has friends among you. Zaveed..." He was certainly a point of contention among the group, but it seemed as if there was [i]some[/i] acceptance to his presence now. "He is willing to put aside the past to keep his promises and to... try to be a better man. Perhaps staying with your people will aid in that? I remain here because they are here, because there is nowhere else to go..." She shrugged her shoulders. "And perhaps I wish to see an end to the world as it's now become." Her jaw tightened momentarily and she breathed out. "It's as you said. I cannot lose anyone else, either." Daro’Vasora cradled her fingers on the table while regarding Sirine in silence. She picked up a broken stick from another meat skewer she had for breakfast and slipped it in between her teeth. “And perhaps ours have not. Has Zaveed told you what he's done to us, to me in particular?” she asked, her stare unwavering. Sirine wasn't particularly surprised to hear Daro'Vasora's question. She breathed out softly, staring at the warm liquid before taking another sip of it. Once she was done, she set the cup back down and spoke up. "Yes. He told me in quite clear words the night we arrived at the oasis." Her jaw was set as she recalled even earlier before their journey have begun and her temper had been tested, when he had told her they had reasons to be upset, and to forgive him for this. "He never hid what he did from me, he has been quite open and honest with me from the very beginning." She looked back at the khajiit woman, dark eyes staring squarely into green ones. "I simply believed that if he is able to look past what was done to him by yours, then perhaps the same would be reciprocated. If not... by all means ask us to leave." That raised a brow, and the Khajiit searched her memory for what Sirine could have been possibly talking about. “What ours did…” her voice trailed off, her tone one of confusion rather than simmering hostility. “You have me at a loss, I'm afraid. Zaveed murdered my friend in front of me after forcing me to choose between him and Raelynn, he broke my arm and then paraded me through the streets to have rotten shit and rocks thrown at me while the mob screamed for my head, and he forced Latro to surrender himself or he would shoot me in front of him. In what part of that story did I do anything to warrant that from Zaveed?” she asked, the stick snapping between her teeth as her knuckles went taunt. "I'm not going to try to justify what Zaveed did to you," Sirine replied after a moment of silence. "He never said he was a good man, neither did Sevari for that matter, and nor am I a good woman. We all have our dark and dirty pasts. “What happened to you, to Raelynn, it wasn't right- it was wrong. And wrong things happen during war." She looked down at her lap. "Nblec's murder shook the little sense of peace that was being forced on Gilane... and you know the rest. Your friend's murder was unfortunate. Zaveed..." Her eyes narrowed and she looked up. "When I first came across him, he was a wrecked, damaged man, saved from the brink of death by your healer, and then simply left on docks, to rot perhaps, I know not. I saw the scars on Zaveed’s chest from the necromancer when he was bathing. I saw the being that… [i]man[/i] summoned in the prison when I went to save my brother, I heard his cold laugh. That... [i]evil[/i], fear inducing laugh." Flashes of her nightmare raced through her mind. "Zaveed may have done despicable things, but he left your friend's soul intact, while his was nearly stolen from him by Gregor." Her fists tightened. "That..." She couldn't speak any longer, feeling nausea well up within her as she once again saw the soul gem she had inadvertently helped fill in the prison. "Sevari wanted to kill him," she managed to add, her voice rather strained, as if she was parched though she was anything but. "Zaveed stopped him. That monster of a khajiit, that 'sack of shit', was it? Yes... he stopped the murder of the necromancer who nearly stole his soul, just to keep the peace and make good his promise to be a better man." Daro'Vasora's world came crashing down. So shocked was she by the revelation about Gregor that she didn't immediately notice her claws puncturing tiny holes in her palms as she stared wide-eyed at Sirine for her impassioned speech about Zaveed's virtues, seeing the Imperial-Redguard woman's expression shift uncomfortably, an unmistakable fear and disgust filling her features as she recounted the tale. Daro'Vasora's mind raced. Sevari and Zaveed had both looked perturbed after the rescue, as did Fjolte, Sirine, and Bakih. The only one who seemed buoyant was Gregor, an expression of triumph on his face when he emerged. The silence on the ride, the uncomfortable glances. [I]There's a darkness inside of him… a hunger…[/I] her own words came back, an echo of when she first spoke to Raelynn about her fears of Gregor. [I]I just have to reach… and take it.[/I] Gregor spoke in Anvil to her, at the tavern… “S'rendarr's mercy…” Daro'Vasora replied, her body shaking. She gripped the table's edge, blood staining the blue fabric of the poncho as she tried to steady herself, her head spinning. “I had no idea… by S'rendarr, I had no idea.” she gasped, feeling her chest tighten. All this time, Nblec's mysterious death, the pain that came after everyone immediately after. Tears welled in her eyes, her throat tightening. At any moment, he could have turned on them, taken their souls… [I]Raelynn.[/i] She knew. She [i]fucking knew.[/i] When they were at the party, where she baited Daro'Vasora before twisting it into a joke about Gregor's sexual prowess. Everything was blurring together, like a puzzle she couldn't figure out. “Why didn't I see this before?” she asked quietly, her eyes unfocused. "And here I thought you were the one keeping him in check." Sirine did not take any pleasure in seeing Daro'Vasora in her current state. In fact, it caused her even more disgust and resentment against the necromancer. Zaveed had never hidden who he was, yet here they had such a dangerous man in their midst, who kept his secret so tightly hidden that not even the leader of their group knew. "Jaraleet had mentioned it wasn't common knowledge, but I thought you at least... clearly I was wrong." She frowned, seeing the blood that was staining Daro’Vasora’s clothes; reaching out for the pot of tea, she poured more into the khajiit woman's cup. Perhaps something stronger would have been better, but this was good enough for now. "Breathe." She could understand how this had to feel shocking; perhaps she even felt betrayed? But she was the leader, and as a former captain, Sirine knew that Daro'Vasora would have to remain composed and keep her wits, despite what she may feel inside; there were many people counting on her. "And drink." Idly, the Khajiit nodded, drinking from the offered tea cup, composing herself, although the shakes refused to fade. “Might come as a surprise to you, but I stumbled into a position where these people chose to follow me. I sometimes don't know what I'm doing, and all we have is this bond together… fucking shit.” Daro'Vasora spat; her mouth felt like bile. “Who all knows this?” "It surprises me yes, but at the same time no." Sirine didn't explain what she meant- she didn't quite think the Khajiit needed a list of virtues as to why, even though in her short time with the group she could see for herself that Daro'Vasora had the guts to make hard decisions, including the one allowing Zaveed, Sevari and herself join the group. She drained her cup of tea and set it back down before speaking once more. "Everyone who was in that room where my brother was caged. Zaveed naturally, Sevari... my brother, though truth be told I don't know if he recalls what happened, he wasn't in the right state of mind then. Jaraleet." Her eyes narrowed and she shook her head. "Raelynn and the Nord, Fjolte... they weren't there then, but..." Once again the disgust and loathing could be seen on her face. "He called her to him, and she went." Even now it was hard for her to fathom how someone who healed and nurtured others to health could associate with such a vile being. His laugh still echoed in her mind, the way he had commanded the dead dwemer to rise- she lowered her head, the back of her hand pressed against her mouth. Daro’Vasora steepled her fingers in front of her mouth, her mind racing. “If you were in my position, what would you do?” she asked quietly, her tone not betraying her thoughts. "If I knew I had a necromancer in my midst? Or if someone was keeping such hideous secrets from me, while I was in charge of the welfare of more than just myself?" Sirine crossed her arms over her chest. "I was once in a position not too unlike yours, and I took care of dissension rather harshly, with a dagger to the neck." Her eyes met Daro'Vasora's. "That doesn't mean I expect you to do the same, however." “I’ll take it under advisement.” Daro’Vasora murmured, not even quite sure if such a thing were possible even if she were so inclined. She looked down at her map, the papers… everything was at risk if this was handled indelicately. “There’s some things I need to take care of, as you could probably imagine, but if you or Sevari wish to continue traveling with us, you are more than welcome to.” She looked up, putting her hands on the table. “Give me time to think about Zaveed, to find out where others stand. Right now, we have a bigger mutual problem to address. Was there anything else you needed?” she asked. Sirine shook her head. "No," she replied as she loosened her arm and stood up, dusting off the back of her tunic before standing straight. "My apologies for being the bearer of bad news. I will leave you to your thoughts." Giving the Khajiit woman a nod, the former pirate then turned away and quietly exited the tent. Daro’Vasora watched Sirine leave, calmly finishing her cup of tea until she heard the footsteps fade. The Khajiit set her cup down and leaned forward, cradling the back of her head as she contemplated the gravity of the situation. Tears began to fall onto the map like rain.