‘There’s a romance in darkness, it draws our curiosity and beckons a desire to taste the unknown.’
Rhea advised they pack for six days worth of trekking throughout the ruins, even though the expedition was expected to last three days. Brynja suited herself up, full set of steel armor and all. She brought her rucksack, which fit awkwardly over her armor. Brynja could still move her arms, for the most part, but were she to take the entire rucksack off, she was left in a struggle. Her biggest fear of heights came into effect when the elevator began to free fall. Her stomach jumped into her throat, her legs quivered like berry jam, causing her to stumble backwards looking for support. She smashed into the wall, narrowly missing Anifaire, before her knees buckled in fear. She couldn’t move, she was grounded in terror.
The grate broke with such a force it flung Daro’Vasora and Latro out of the elevator, along with a few others. This was out of her control. She could do nothing to protect them. Just then, the elevator caught itself on the track before smashing into the bottom. She slid forward as it shook her with a nasty jolt.
Seconds after hitting the bottom, Brynja slowly collected herself, she marveled at the simple fact that somehow, she was still alive. She stumbled for the door, determined to get out of the contraption before anything else happened. As Brynja emerged into a dim veil of light, she could feel a dampness spreading down her backside, running rivulets down her legs and into her boots. At first, Brynja thought she’d pissed herself, but that was until she remembered that she hadn’t needed to relieve herself before embarking on the expedition. Her mind leapt to the possibility of the liquid coming from a wound.
A sudden sting in her right eye had her wiping blood away, where she soon discovered a gash above her brow about two inches in length. She hissed as the wound reacted to her uninvited fingers, it felt afire. Brynja knew it only to be a surface wound, and turned her attention back to the elevator mere feet away. Those in their company had begun to emerge from the water and from the elevator, most were unharmed.
Rhea had since found her footing and had escaped injury no worse for wear than before the sudden descent, her pack taking the brunt of the impact when she slipped when the lift had taken a sharp angle. Her heart was still pounding from a survival instinct, and she was reeling with trying to make sense of what had happened and the peril her team was in. While she didn’t doubt they could handle a fight, it was the ordeal of trying to find an alternative escape that seemed somewhat daunting. However, this was precisely why she’d instructed everyone to pack supplies for up to a week; no matter how long it took, they’d find a way out, and no matter how big this place was, it was still an enclosed area. It would be contained and manageable, of that she was certain.
Doing a quick headcount, she noticed that most of the expedition was up and about and checking themselves and their gear over diligently. Latro and Daro’Vasora, however, were nowhere to be seen. They had been taken by the river, and Rhea chose to believe that they didn’t drown and had found a way to safety as soon as they were able. There was no sense in fretting about those outside of her immediate care, she had to ensure that her team would make it through in high spirits.
“Well, if anyone was still groggy from the early start, I trust you’re awake now.” She called to the others, thankful for whomever had managed to get a light going. “Gather your senses and check yourselves and each other, we leave in five minutes barring any major injury.” with that, she noticed Brynja fussing over a cut. Making her way over, she placed a comforting hand on the Nord’s shoulder. “Mind if I have a look?”
Brynja flinched at the sudden touch, she turned her attention at the sound of Rhea’s voice, “‘Tis but a scratch. Nothing more than blood in the eye. An easy fix.” She said, her voice becoming confident. The last thing she wanted was having Rhea to think of her as a yellow-livered cat.
“And yourself? Are you injured at all?” She asked, her words carrying the connotation of a woman accustomed to caring for others.
“Oh, I’m certain there’s a few bruises here and there, but nothing worth fussing over.” Rhea replied with a reassuring smile. “If you insist it’s nothing, then that’s that.” her expression shifted to something decidedly more guarded. “We have two missing and confirmation that Falmer were here. We need to be prepared for an attack. Is your gear in order?”
“I-,” she stopped herself before she could finish her sentence. Her mind wandered to the wetness against her back, it had stopped, whatever it was.
“Yes.” Brynja said, giving her a short affirmative nod. Her back straightened at the knowledge of moving on from this location.
The remainder of the party gathered after tending to their affairs, fetching equipment from the waters, helping each other in a time of mutual peril. Through it all, Rhea felt a pit in her stomach that Latro, Meg and Daro’Vasora weren’t anywhere to be seen. She grounded herself, taking her senses into account as she counted down from ten. The two would be fine, and they would find them, she told herself. There was no sense grieving the loss of those who weren’t dead.
Gaius pulled her from her thoughts, asking if she had any manner of communicating with the surface. “No.” She admitted, looking towards the lift. “It’s not as if there’s a courier ghost that can inform the surface of our predicament. It’s all right, it’s part of exploration, the risk taking. Prior experience has taught me that Dwemer often had more than one exit in case of emergency or just ease of travel. We’ll simply search until we find it.” She replied with a reassuring clasp of the man’s shoulder. She didn’t bother mentioning the plan if there wasn’t such an exit. The last thing these people needed was hope being ripped from them.
Alim immediately pulled himself into a foolish predicament and dove back into the waters with the promise of finding others, including some tapping code he’d respond to. Before she could talk him out of his foolish notions, he’d disappeared, somehow trusting himself to see in the dark and not become a liability himself.
“Idiot.” she muttered under her breath, looking at who was left. “Do not follow his lead.” She told the others, looking them in the eyes in turn under the hovering magelight.
“We have a better chance of finding the others if we are in control of our passage. Putting yourself at the mercy of underground rivers is only going to put yourself and others at needless risk. We press on; we’ll look for the others, and keep an eye out for adversaries.” Rhea said, taking a deep breath before smiling. “Well, let’s go see what we’ve stumbled into, shall we?”
The pathway was made of carved stone, some masonry work that had been created centuries ago. Rhea had instructed the others to keep the lights going, as it would be a beacon for the lost members of the expedition to find, and it would be their only means of detecting the Falmer if they came across them. All accounts suggested the feral elves to be entirely blind, so it was at least something of a hope that blind also meant they couldn’t perceive a change in lighting conditions.
Everyone traveled in silence, the unavoidable sound of shifting gears and footfalls echoing across the cave formations, made the purpose of the place unclear. It was almost a shock when Meg and Alim had managed to find their way to the group in a deceptively short amount of time. Brynja and Solandil led the group from the front with Rhea in the lead, while Balroth and Gaius brought up the rear of the group.
“I’d rather face a draugr now than sit on the edge of my blade, waiting around for some sneaky Falmer to slink out of the shadows.” Brynja breathed, though she whispered to herself, her words could be heard at the back of the group. She mentally chastised herself for even speaking aloud, the Falmer had exceptional hearing, and she most likely made their location known. The demented elves might be blind, but they sure as hell weren’t dumb. If there were any nearby… At least the wetness on her backside had dried. She was certain that she hadn’t wounded herself in the fall… but what in the depths of Oblivion had leaked?
Her line of thoughts were cut short as Rhea slowed her pace before coming to a complete stand still where the paved road ended as broken floor stones littered the ground. Brynja stood alongside her, her hands curling around the hilt of her longsword. Stretching before them was a… well Brynja had the least bit of an idea as to what she was looking at. She could see that the Dwemer had left their mark, as the paved flooring and carved archways dictated that some civilization had made an attempt to tame the depths. However, as she peered into the darkness, her eyes trying to discern what lay on in the darkness, she could see a faint glow of blue light.
She left the glow of the magelight, just mere steps away from Rhea and Solandil, and entered the thin veil of darkness. The blue light, Brynja realized, was the source of glowing mushrooms that clung to the walls. She took a few tentative steps forward, her ears straining to hear anything. The faint sound of water dripping caught her ear, but nothing sinister seemed to lurk in the darkness. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, she could make out the faint outline of ruins ahead, but she could see no more as the prevailing darkness enveloped what lay beyond. She turned slowly, her eyes sweeping the area where she stood before traveling up towards the ceiling, if she could call it that. It appeared that they had entered some type of massive cavern, much larger than the one that they had emerged from. Brynja blinked twice as she stared up into the darkness, where she could have sworn she saw stars.
‘There’s no stars underground, you dolt.’ she scolded herself, her eyes narrowing into slits, the stars she saw were clusters of glowing mushrooms that had claimed residency on the ceiling. The mushrooms provided no light for them so far below, but it was an eerie concept to think, a celestial system so far below ground.
Retreating from the darkness, Brynja ventured back into the safety of the magelight, she approached Rhea, longsword lowered as she approached the Imperial. “You’re going to want to see this. Looks like a bunch of ruins out there. Whatever this place is, I cannot see the other side.” She kept her voice exceptionally low, one never knew what lurked in these sinister shadows.
The Imperial followed Brynja out, taking in the view that had captivated her seconds before. She had seen fungus such as this before, but the size of the cavern and the proliferation of the mushrooms about what seemed to be only the ceiling really did give it an appearance of being the night sky. “Incredible.” She managed, feeling a sense of giddiness that she did her best to keep down in light of the circumstances. The sense of discovery and finding such wonders was something that really kept her enthralled with journeying into the depths. “We may have to change our strategy somewhat, the magelights will not be able to illuminate much more than the ground we’re standing on. I still think it is safest to follow the path to the best of our ability, since there’s always a risk that if we leave it, it may be difficult to find our way back to it. It is reasonable to assume that the pathway leads to somewhere, is it not?”
“Aye.” She said with a soft grunt, her eyes scanned the path behind them. What little remained petered out before the two women, as her gaze shifted to the ground under foot, until she spied the familiar shape of stairs descending into the darkness just feet away.
“Look,” she whispered, pointing at three barely visible steps, “that must be the rest of it.” If the knot forming in her stomach assumed right, those steps would lead them down into the ruins.
‘Too bad that cat got swept away, someone told me they can see the dark.’ Brynja mused unhappily.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed onto the Nord’s arm. “Listen.” Rhea breathed.
A few moments of dead air hung as the party slowed to a stop, but it soon became clear what had caught Rhea’s ear. The pattering of feet and the occasional scraping sound were heard not too distant, and it became clear that there was a the Falmer that they had feared lurked down in these caverns were close. However, the observant of the group would have noted that they seemed like they were in a hurry, not necessarily stalking or preparing to attack. Still, it didn’t seem prudent to wait to see if they passed; chances are, blind creatures preferred the guidance of a well-marked path just as much as those who could see.
Looking around quickly at the surroundings, a mostly collapsed dwelling with only two walls still fully intact and most of the roof having caved in, stood out as somewhere defensible if a fight was unavailable. It was made of carved, once ornate stone, and the alloys that dominated most Dwemer architecture was conspicuously absent, and its run-down nature was jarring in comparison to the contemporary ruins in the levels above. It seemed foolish to hope they wouldn’t be heard just as easily as they heard the Falmer; they were creatures that relied heavily on their hearing in the absence of sight. “To the left! There’s a building there. Inside, now!” Rhea called out for the rest of the party to hear; there would be no confusion of half-heard orders.
The group managed to get inside in a hurry, clambering over stones that may have been carved thousands of years prior. There were enough handholds and layered blocks that almost acted as an impromptu set of platforms to level above. “Anyone who can fight at range, get up on the roof if you can, we will need a lot of light and try to thin out numbers before they reach the walls. The rest of us,” freeing her sword from the scabbard, Rhea’s hand tightened around the grip. “I trust you’ve had a good scrap from time to time. Just make sure to watch where you’re swinging your blades, it’s hard to see a damn thing down here.”
As the plans were laid out amongst the defenders, the first glimpses of the Falmer came into view from the magelight, the approach of the Falmer much more cautious than they had been prior; their hideous flat faces scrunched as they sniffed like animals, unintelligible utterances escaping their throats. There were a dozen in all, lead by two Shaman judging from their staves. Curiously, these Falmer weren’t entirely armed and armoured with Chitin plates and weaponry; the gleam of Dwemer craftsmanship adorned some of their frames, and dangerously sharp blades were clutched in their gnarled hands. A trio of archers began to flank around on either side of the structure, one of which was carrying the Dwemer bow; it was a much larger specimen than the other two, likely having obtained its weapon through a show of dominance.
[i]‘Bunch of ugly fuckers.’[/] Brynja thought.
She had taken up a position near the opening of the two crumbled walls, a defensive maneuver to protect those that weren’t such great fighters, could Judena even fight? Never the matter. She took a wide stance, putting all of her weight into her core and legs, grounding herself like a boulder. The Falmer couldn’t see them gathered there, but that didn’t mean those demented Snow Elves couldn’t smell them. Or could they?
Just then… her nose began to itch. The threat of a sneeze crept over her, panic enveloped her. ‘Gods no! BRYNJA. HOLD-’
“Achoo!” Her sneeze shook her like a ship’s mast in gale-force weather, “Oh for fucks sake.” She growled. The sound of her sneezing drew in the Falmer to them like a bear to honey.
Teeth gnashed as incoherent chattering and hissing filled the void of the cavern, the Falmer charged at the group, now having a sound to hone in on. The slap of their leathery feet across smooth stone chilled Brynja to her core. Falmer were no Man, Mer, or Beast, right? They were scum of the earth. Treacherous and vile things that scavenged in the depths of forgotten Dwemer ruins. She rushed out to meet a Falmer head on, steel glinting off magelight as she swung the blade through the air with practiced ease. Her blade clanged against a chitin shield, where the Falmer she engaged with, thrusted the shield at her to throw her off-balance. That failed. Brynja didn’t budge an inch. She stepped back, and evaded another thrust.
A flash of light, or rather, fire, sailed over head, where it crashed into the rooftop where those in the company had moved for better vantage points. The flaming ball burst into a shower of burning embers.
Rhea’s sword clashed with a Dwarven axe, blades locked together as yellowed fangs leered at her, inches away from her face. She shoved hard, knocking the Falmer backwards. She had room to move, she had to use it before she lost her footing.
An ice bolt smashed into the ground at the base of the rooftop. Shards glittering as they melted into the rock under foot. Brynja was locked in combat with the Falmer bearing the shield. She gritted her teeth as a shortsword darted out at her, the blade narrowly missing a gap in her armor. Again, another ice bolt sailed through the air, this time landing feet away.
“Someone kill those fuckin’ mages!” She hollered, her voice carrying over the din of battle.
The dozen or so Falmer were swarming the area, and they carried an odor with them that stank something fierce, as if they had been sitting in their own shit and piss for years. And perhaps they had. Fed up with the sneering Falmer before her, Brynja threw her shoulder into the shield, barreling over the falmer. With both hands on the hilt of her sword, she drove the blade down, piercing the skull with a sickening pop.
“Hyah!” Rhea cried, her sword driving deep into the flesh of the axe-wielding Falmer. Blood bubbled up from its mouth as she shook the foul thing off her sword end, and left it to a miserable death. Her heart pounded from the adrenaline of the battle, sweat rolled down her temples, her neck chilled.
“Rhea!” Brynja’s husky voice drew her attention to the towering Nord, she wore a menacing expression as she cleared the short distance between them in two long strides. She swung her longsword high, causing Rhea to raise her arm in defense, when she heard the strangled cry of a Falmer behind her. She turned to see the creature with a half-severed midsection, entrails spilling into a bloody pool underneath.
The Imperial wrinkled her nose at the sudden expunged viscera. “My thanks. I’ll be sure to return the favour.” She said to Brynja, shoving the dying Falmer aside and grabbing another by the wrist as it raised its axe to bring it down upon her. Her blade sunk easily into its throat, and the creature gurgled dark blood from its curled, hideous lips.
The battle had begun, and the only hope the party had was to keep enough light to see what was happening.
Nyxella
TokyoPewPew
Tlaloc