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[sub][h3][b]Unknown Cave[/b][color=gray][s], West Weald, Cyrodiil[/s][/color][/h3][/sub]
[sub][h3][color=gray][s]Evening,[/s][/color] [b]Sun's Dusk 15[/b][color=gray][s], 2E 638[/s][/color][/h3][/sub]
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Before Helspar Dalas blacked out, he was riding in the back of a horse-drawn, open top carriage. A brown-coated Colovian stallion trotted on a thin layer of slush, pulling the well-worn wooden vehicle in between two others. It was the second snow this season in West Weald. Tiny snowflakes drifted in the chilling wind. It was cold, but not quite freezing; the snow melted as soon as it hit the ground. The road between Skingrad and Kvatch was almost barren; few travelers in the region wished to brave the cold. Even wild animals went into hibernation. Bird chirps were scarce, and the only sounds that stayed with the caravan were gusts blowing through the dried-up grass.

Then they came from the brushline, spells and arrows wielded by figures in metal and leather. The attack was so sudden that the horses panicked and tumbled. The carriage Helspar rode on drove straight into a ditch. His world flipped sideways, and the ground rushed to meet Helspar's face.

When Helspar woke up, the first sense to alarm him was sound. There were metal rattling, heavy footsteps and the terrified screams of an old man. "[url=https://youtu.be/umDr0mPuyQc]No, gods please, no! No![/url]!" It sounded just like the carriage driver.

The source of the screams were gone when sight came to Helspar. All he could see was a dark and smoky cavern. The place smelled rotten, dank moistures mixed with torch fumes. Helspar was locked in a metal cage that was just tall enough for him to stand, and just long enough for him to lay down. There were a dozen other cages in the cavern, illuminated by three freestanding torches. Beyond the torches was a passage that turned beyond view. As far as he could tell, all other cages were open and empty, though some had blood and torn clothing still left in them. Leading out of each cage was a trail of someone being dragged across the muddy floor.

As for Helspar himself, he was uninjured, save for a slight headache. Most of his personal belongings were gone, though. His backpack, his trusty bow, quiver and skinning knife had all been taken away. So was the fur hat he bought in Cheydinhal. And, as expected from anyone who locked travelers in cages, his gold was gone too. At least they had the decency to leave his clothing on. This meant that they didn't search the interior pocket of his coat. Helspar's repair kit was still with him!

Helspar breathed a sigh of relief. He had something to work with. Now the question became whether or not he should do something about his current predicament. It was obvious that the denizens of this cave had malicious intents; anyone with common sense would try to escape. But what if they caught him trying to escape? Maybe they would only held Helspar there for ransom, and anything rash on his part would result in his death. Then he remembered the agonizing screams minutes ago. That was not the sound of a man being set free. And after all, no one would pay for Helspar's ransom anyway. The only person that cared about him was being worked to death somewhere in Vvardenfell. Helspar couldn't give up, for Gnarl-Braid's sake.

Armed with two slender pins from the repair kit, and negligible experiences in lockpicking, Helspar went to work on the cage lock. It never occurred to him how awkward it was to work a lock from the other side. His wrist must twist at a painful angle to insert the pins into the lock. He remembered one of Gnarl-Braid's huntmates sharing his thieving exploits. Just push one pin up and flatten the tumblers with the other. It was definitely a lot easier said than done. Sweat began form on Helspar's forehead, and his hands trembled inside his gloves. Thankfully, the lock was worn and loose. A cautious prod yielded a sharp click, and several clicks later, the pins broke. However, the lock had enough play at this point to be forced open.

"Ha, phew!" Helspar chuckled. He wiped the sweat from his face and pushed the creaking cage door open. Helspar couldn't believe it; he picked a lock!

Before he could celebrate, Helspar noticed that not all cages in the cavern were as empty as he'd previously seen. There was one more cage further inside than his. The door was closed, and a figure, partially obscured in shadow, was just stirring inside. This must be someone from the caravan. He couldn't leave this person there, could he? If Helspar had another survivor with him, he would have a better chance taking on his abductors. But then again, he didn't plan on taking on his abductors. He had no weapon, and the only way out was sneaking, so having someone else was just more noise...

Argh, to Oblivion with it! The regret would endless if he left them behind. So Helspar approached the other cage. Before he reached it, he almost tripped over on...a skeleton.

"Oh gods!" Helspar cursed (and nearly jumped). He stepped gingerly around the skeleton.

"Alright, alright." Kneeling in front of the cage, Helspar whispered to himself, trying to still his pounding heart. He placed one hand on the cage door and shook it.

"Hey, hey, over here." Helspar whispered louder this time, so that the person inside the cage could hear him. "You were on the caravan, right? We have to get out of here!"
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