Chapter 6: The Dragon’s maw.
They looked upon the Dragon’s gate. It was a simple stone construct, elegant in its simplicity. On its flat top however, was a gigantic statue of a Dragon, suspended between two pillars. A small distance from the gate was a large castle whose walls were beginning to crack after long years of neglect. With the Dragon on one side and the castle on the other, it was an impressive sight indeed.
“If cell 3 holds brass, cell 2 holds the gold key. If cell 1 holds gold, cell 3 holds brass. If cell 2 holds brass, cell 3 holds the gold key.” Rajn mumbled to herself as she’d been mumbling for three days now.
“Still going on about that riddle the shopkeeper gave you?” Aran asked dryly.
“Uhuh. I just can’t figure it out. If one goes, the other doesn’t. I can’t make sense of it! At least I got some nice jewellery while he was giving the riddle. Like my necklace? Look, real Ebony!” The girl replied and smiled.
“If it wasn’t for the prophecy, I would’ve never brought a thief along.” Marsh noted.
“So where do we look first?” Aran asked the Argonian in an attempt to change the subject. The fact that he had vowed to protect a thief with his life didn’t sit well with him either. But his honour was at stake and he would not back down. Besides, she did have her good sides, from time to time.
“Our sources specifically mentioned the Dragon’s gate. According to the locals, the gate is that structure with the dragon. I’d say we go in through there.” Marsh explained. Aran nodded and flipped out the blades on his spear. He had a hunch that they couldn’t just walk in and pick it up, neatly wrapped in paper and sealed with a red ribbon. It would be dangerous.
“Rajn, stay here.” He commanded.
“Stay here? I don’t think so. What happened to the ‘all for one, one for all’ spirit?” Rajn complained. She demonstratively pushed past them and jumped on the rocky path leading to the gate.
“No, you’re staying here! Here it is safer than there. Besides, we’re going underground.” Aran added when he noticed that as usual, she wasn’t listening.
“So? I’m not a wussie!”
Marsh sighed as the two began to squabble once again.
“I am with Aran. If I may be so blunt, you would only be a hindrance.” He hissed. Instantly, the girl’s glare shifted from the Dunmer to him.
“A hindrance? Explain!” She shouted.
“We don’t need a hysterical claustrophobe who tries to strangle my tail while screaming about big dogs trying to eat her.” Marsh shouted back.
“You didn’t see it! And you shouldn’t have poofed out that light!” Aran felt that this argument was getting a bit too hot now and stepped between them.
“Stop this! Rajn, you know that you can’t handle being underground. And Marsh, did you ever look at her legs?” He spoke loud and clear. Marsh blinked. He had no idea what this comment was supposed to mean.
“Look at her legs? What, does he now think I’m some kind of pervert? Heck, she’s an elf, not my type!” He thought.
“Well hello, little Bosmer to big Dunmer. Of course he didn’t look up my legs! If I wanted people to look up my legs, I would be wearing a skirt! And I don’t wear skirts outdoors! Too breezy and no privacy!” Rajn shrieked. Both the Dunmer and the Argonian frowned.
“I said, look at your legs, not up.” Aran noted.
“Marsh, Rajn once nearly got killed by a large wolf or something. I believe she’s still suffering from it. It happened underground. And it was a talking wolf.” He continued. At the last sentence, Marsh’s eyes widened.
“A lycanthrope?” He asked out loud.
“I see, my apologies. But I stay at my opinion. You will stay outside. We’ll come back as soon as possible. And don’t worry, I am certain that there isn’t a lycanthrope anywhere near. Their natural habitat is Skyrim. It is too warm for them here.” The Argonian said and motioned to Aran to get moving.
“You didn’t have to tell him that I have this big trauma.” Rajn grumbled, kicking a pebble.
“Geez, no fun with these bozos. You’d think that all men outside my twin brother are all either incredibly dull or sick perverts. Eh, I guess I’ll go raid that castle and look for some shiny.” She fumed in silence.
“And don’t go raid the castle. It is probably not safe there.” Aran called out over his shoulder.
“Gah! He’s a mindreader!” The girl yelled in shock. Aran rose an eyebrow.
“A what? I can assure you that I do not read minds, I simply know how you think. And could you pick the door leading into the gate? I’ll see if I can find anything shiny down there to make it up to you.” He grunted. At the mention of shiny, Rajn raced forward and took a lockpick out of her clasp.
“There you go, have fun. I’ll just go sit there and be bored.” She said after the lock clicked and creaked.
The two men vanished into the dark depths of the Dragon’s gate. Within the cover of the forest that ringed the gate and the castle, two yellow eyes peered out, gazing at the sun and then at the gate.
“It will be a full moon tonight. And they left her all alone. How fitting, it was the werewolf that injured her, it will now be the werewolf that kills her. I hope you’ve made your peace, Rajn.”
Marsh and Aran looked into the dimly lit corridor up ahead. Old and rusted tracks ran along one side of the wall, soon taking a dive into the gate’s depths.
“This isn’t a gate. It’s an abandoned mine.” Marsh observed.
“Hmm, I now doubt the Dwemer involvement as well. The architecture on the castle is nothing like what I’ve seen in the libraries. Nor did the Dwemer have this fascination for dragons.” He added. Aran looked over the rough walls of hewn rock and concluded that he had to agree. This was nothing like the Dwemer ruins he’d explored as a child, despite parental objection.
“I’ll be a bit more reserved before claiming it to be abandoned. There are torches on the wall, burning torches.” He said, bringing his voice down to a whisper.
Marsh now looked at the row of burning torches as well. He edged closer to the nearest and studied it as well as he could without touching.
“Magicka. Magic torches. These have been burning for a while, but not for thousands of years. You’re right, friend. This place isn’t as abandoned as we thought.” The Argonian concluded after a while.
“And look at that split in the path up ahead. The torches only follow one of the paths. Is it a trail?” Right after he’d wondered about this, a gray hand brusquely shoved him back.
“A trap. And no way to go forward but right through it. Stay behind me, Marsh. And be prepared to cover me.” Aran spoke and put himself in front of the more fragile mage. Marsh nodded behind the warrior’s back and lit up a Heyat.
“Then let us proceed. If you see any enemy that is clearly of supernatural origin, give me a sign. I smell the scent of necromancy here. Be on the lookout for moving corpses and skeletons.” He hissed. The two retreated into silence and moved into the mine, following the trail that had been set before him.
Outside the gate, Ra’trith pressed himself against the damp ground. He was grateful for the change from a desert to a colder and wetter forest, though the foliage provided other difficulties with sneaking. He felt quite secure with his hiding place. Unlike last time, he had yet to be discovered, and it had been two hours since the elf’s companions left. He looked at the sun and grinned.
“Just a bit longer. When the moons rise, the time has come.” He gloated.
“Having a crush on a young lady? You are quite the stalker, it seems.” Ra’trith rolled his eyes and reluctantly peered over his shoulder. A familiar old Redguard leaned against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. His brown robe and equally brown skin were an almost perfect camouflage against the bark of the tree.
“Revarim Kendri, I do not have a crush on any lady, nor will I ever have. That foolish emotion known as love is only for the weak. If I have nothing to protect, I have nothing that can be taken from me.” He whispered. Not that it really mattered much now. The Redguard had not even attempted to keep his voice down.
Kendri gave one of his peculiar smiles.
“No need to whisper. There is a silenced zone within ten metres.” He said casually. The assassin peeked his ears.
“Ten metres? That’s quite a lot. Not something every mage can do.” He realized. Not only was the old Redguard an impressive fighter, but he was also an accomplished mage now. Ra’trith had found a new side to his unwanted follower, a side he’d rather not seen.
“Just why are you following me?” He asked in a demanding tone.
“I’m not following you.” Kendri replied which got the Khajiit angry.
“You are not following me? Then how come you are always getting in the way when I try to do my job? If it wasn’t because of you, I would have been done days ago.” He hissed and fell silent as he came to a realization.
“You are following them. Why?” He noted to which the Redguard nodded.
“Sharp, willing to think despite that hotblooded attitude. Even willing to wait and observe the situation in case the first attempt goes wrong. Yes, you do have potential. Perhaps I should watch you more closely.” The old man said mysteriously.
“Dammit, Kendri! You will answer my questions or you will die!” Ra’trith interrupted which made Kendri laugh.
“Die this, die that. You have a one-track mind, a flaw that needs to be corrected if you wish to have any chance at achieving your ultimate goal.” Ra’trith got up from the ground and walked closer. The Redguard didn’t move, not even when the Khajiit put a claw on his throat.
“I could kill you with a single stroke. Do you want to mock me?” He whispered in the man’s ear.
“I doubt you could, not now and not ever unless something happens to make you learn of the greater power you possess within your soul. I have survived a slitted throat before, give or take a dozen times. It is quite annoying. I can’t speak properly for an hour or two. Very bothersome.” Kendri revealed and now smiled openly, showing a pair of elongated fangs.
Ra’trith jerked back.
“A vampire. What does a vampire do here? And how does a vampire survive out in the open?” He thought, not realizing he had spoken his thoughts as well. The vampire tucked his hand under his robe and retrieved an amulet with the colour and sheen of wet blood.
“You should have guessed by now. Why else would Vicente be so interested in disposing of me? I have learned to turn my weakness into an advantage, unlike you. If a vampire can feed, that vampire can walk in the sun as much as he likes. What if that vampire learns how to keep himself fed constantly without requiring a living host? The result stands before you. But enough about me. Now it is time to begin your lesson. Listen and don’t move.”
The Khajiit wanted to answer, to tell the old man to go away but he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk, or even move. He could only breathe. He had been paralyzed.
“First of all, let’s discuss what you are doing wrong here.” Kendri began as he paced around the frozen form of the assassin.
“You are here to murder that girl over there who is playing with a small pile of pebbles. Why do you want to kill her? To achieve a form of petty vengeance. This is low, even for the Dark Brotherhood. Vicente has done a bad job raising you. Your skills are impressive, for what they’re worth, yet your soul has been buried deep under that smothering fog of hate.”
Ra’trith’s tail twitched slightly. The paralyzation was losing its effect slowly.
“You are so obsessed with this that you have forgotten your greater purpose. To assassinate the man who sits on the throne. As it is right now, you don’t stand a chance. I have told you about mercy before, what advantages it can bring. Did you ever hear of the saying ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’? While it is rather naïve, there is truth. An enemy of an enemy can be your greatest ally. And an alliance, while usually shortlived, has the potential of surviving long after its original purpose has been fulfilled. You don’t understand now but if you take the time to observe and learn from those who you’re following, you will understand someday. And you will know the truth that I’m speaking.” The Redguard stopped in front of the Khajiit’s face.
“Learn to look beyond your lust for blood. Look at what helps you achieve your goal. And of all things, remember that a strong will cannot be defeated by the swords of an army, or the claws of an assassin. If your will is absolute, you cannot be defeated even by the Daedra. Now if you excuse me, I have business on the Valenwood-Elsweyr border.”
The paralyzation released its hold upon him without warning. Enraged, Ra’trith lunged at the vampire, digging his claws into his face. Or at least, that’s what he tried. Kendri was no longer standing there. Ra’trith felt the air thin as he passed through the location where the man had been. It was as if the man had left a hole in the air where he’d stood.
“Kendri!” He roared. He could feel it now, the tingle that had been helt back while he was paralyzed. He was beginning to change. The werewolf had been awakened.
“I’ll deal with you next time. But now, I’ll show you how much petty vengeance pleases me!”
Rajn looked up from her pebble-tower. She’d heard something. Nearby.
“You may wish to flee for now. That lycantrophe out there is not in a good mood. My apologies, for I believe I was a bit too harsh on its fragile self-image.” A voice whispered in her ear. She jumped up from the rock she’d been seated on and drew her bow as she turned around. Nothing, there was nothing. She now looked more closely, with her unbound eye as well. Once again, nothing. Except a trail of magicka.
“Drat, some kind of practical joke with magicka-messages. Marsh, I’ll stomp on your tail real hard when you come back. That’s not funny!” She thought. Then something howled which made her turn around again, to face the forestedge. A hulking shadow leaped from the bushed, a hulking shadow with two blazing yellow eyes and two rows of sharp teeth that glittered silvery in the moonlight.
“Waaaaahhh!!!!!” The Bosmer screamed and ran away in panic.
“Seek rest once more!” Aran shouted and pummelled the skeletal warrior with broad sweeps of his spear, scattering its bones across the room. The undead gave one last pitiful wail and collapsed in a pile on the floor, the axe it had held lay on top as a testament to its forgotten glory. The Dunmer leaned on his spear and looked at the stairs leading down.
“I hope that was the last one. Necromancy makes me feel uneasy.” He admitted. Marsh said nothing but beckoned his companion to descend the stairs. They could only move forward.
The stepping stones seemed unusually damp. The Argonian bent down and scraped across one of the stones with a finger. Next he brought the finger up to his face and sniffed.
“A wolf has come here, a breed I’m not familiar with. Quite recently.” He commented. Aran gripped his spear more tightly.
“You are a better tracker than I am.” He admitted. The bottom of the stairs now came within view.
“Perhaps, but don’t forget that the land you were born in does not provide much opportunity to hide while my land provides plenty, as well as many kinds of poison. A good nose is essential to survive in Argonia. But this is recognition of smells. If it comes to following tracks, I’d put my money on Rajn back up there.” Marsh replied. They took the last step and entered another room.
A peculiar sight greeted them. They were in a wide corridor, with cells lining both walls. Bowls filled with burning oil lit up the walls that separated each cell. The trampling of countless legs reached their ears and they both felt slightly nervous at the sound. Aran stepped further into the room and moved towards the first cell on his right.
“Wait, there could be tripwires that trigger a trap. This place feels like a trap through and through.” Marsh hissed urgently. Aran slowed down and now methodically checked the ground before him before making another step. Finally, he’d reached the cell and peered inside.
“A huge spider, about the size of a dog. And there is a half-rotten corpse near it. The corpse looks like it came off of a horse.” He said, half-surprised and half-disgusted at the sight.
“All of this sounds quite recent. I wonder if….” Marsh began yet fell silent. He cocked his head to one side and listened. Had he heard something, something that was not excited spiders running around in cells?
“Marsh?” Aran asked with one eye on the cell and the other on the Argonian.
“Shhh! I heard something.” Marsh hissed back. Now both listened and tried to shut out the spiders from their mind and focus on that elusive sound they’d heard.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!” Out of the shadows from the stairs came a small form that rushed right past the mage and didn’t stop till it had wrapped itself around the Dunmer’s leg.
“Rajn? What are you……We told you to stay outside!” Aran scolded her and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh great, what did I say about hysteric claustrophobes?” Marsh sighed.
“D…..D….Dog! It was big….big and black…a dog!” The Bosmer stammered inbetween panicked screams and gasps for breath.
“And there’s the dog again.” Marsh commented. He shook his head.
“Aran, it looks like we’re going to have to knock her out or something. She’s less of a bother as dead weight than she is right now. Or we could head back up and tie her to a tree or something.” He suggested. Aran glared at the Argonian and brusquely shook his head.
“Marsh, I’m not going to hit her on the head, not ever. And you won’t either. Now come over here and pull her off of my leg!” He ordered. Marsh sighed again and casually walked over to the two.
“You’re making the spiders go crazy.” He told the shivering girl who didn’t hear him.
“Now why do I have to drag her off your leg? She’s hysteric, suffering from delusions and likely to bite me like a rabid dog.” Marsh answered, counting his arguments on his fingers.
Aran stroke across the spear’s shaft with his thumb, causing the two blades to extend to their full length.
“She isn’t suffering from delusions, Marsh. And speaking of rabid dogs, there is one standing just behind you. Looks like it’s upwind because you didn’t smell it.” He said calmly. Marsh glanced over his shoulder and gulped.
“Ok, now get away from him.” He said and yanked Rajn away. The moment his leg had been freed, Aran jumped in front of the two and raised his spear to chestheight.
“I don’t have a quarrel with you, Dunmer. Step aside and I might just let you live.” The werewolf growled. Aran gave a grim smile.
“Marsh, take her with you and move on. And as for you, I told you before. You are not worthy as an opponent.” He said, directing his last words at the werewolf. The Werewolf was startled. In his mind, he recalled a foot hitting his snout and sending him over a ledge into a bottomless pit.
“So that was you! I’ve changed my mind. Come on, you’ll be my dinner!” He snarled. Aran’s smile vanished.
“I’m sorry, but I refuse to be anyone’s dinner. Now come and feel the might of my spear!”
The werewolf laughed, a sound that was nearly indistinguishable from his growls.
“You think that you can fight me with one hand and a piece of wood? What are you, a fool?” He taunted. Aran stood motionless.
“Perhaps I am a fool for fighting one like you head-on. Yet that makes me a fool who has something to protect. The Nix-hound that has been backed into a corner will fight the Kagouti.” He replied. This only served to further amuse the werewolf.
“Protect? You think that by throwing your life away you will protect anyone? Don’t you know that after I’ve ripped you apart, I’ll tear your friends to shreds as well?” The werewolf spat and looked over the warrior’s shoulder. There he saw how the Argonian was dragging the Bosmer with him past the many cells filled with spiders. This enraged him. He roared and tried to walk past the Dunmer.
“Out of the way! I have no time to play with you!”
Aran pressed his feet into the sand for better balance.
“If I die, then yes I believe you would hunt them. Yet I am not dead yet. With this spear, I invoke the power of the Urshilaku. You may speak your threats, but only after you have defeated me!” He shouted and dashed forward. The werewolf blinked. That man actually dared to charge him head-on?
“Fool!” He roared and sweeped horizontally with his claws. But Aran hadn’t been charging without keeping his mind about him. Even before his foe had begun his movement, the Dunmer smashed his feet into the ground and jerked to a halt. His arm flew out still with the momentum of his charge. The spear, whose blade was like a small needle compared to the claws of the werewolf, found its mark.
“As long as I breathe, you will not pass.” The soft words were punctuated by the steady drip of blood.
The werewolf glared at his smaller opponent. The wound on the back of his hand burned.
“Silver, yet not poisoned. Perhaps I underestimated you.” He chuckled. He then lunged forward, seeking to use his greater strength and weight to his advantage. Aran skid out of the way and slashed the creature’s side as it passed. Before the werewolf had managed to stop, the Dunmer had already blocked the path to his friends.
“And you continue to underestimate me. Next time, that blade won’t cut your skin, but seek your heart between your ribs.”
Marsh rushed through the room he found at the end of the corridor as fast as he could. Rajn was surprisingly stubborn and refused to go with him, forcing him to drag her along. He would’ve expected that with the werewolf behind them, she would be the first to run away. He stopped at the other side and cursed. It was a dead end, with only three more cells lining the wall before them. Fortunately there were no spiders in these.
“No way out. If there isn’t a way, I must create one.” Marsh muttered to himself and sought for a crack he could fire his Heyat at.
A shadow to his left caught his attention. Looking closer, he saw that it was a narrow corridor leading out of the room. He cast a glance back at the battle raging behind them. Aran was holding his own, yet he was being pushed their way. Marsh made up his mind and dragged Rajn over to the corridor.
“Stop struggling. We’ve got to leave.” He hissed at her.
Again he cursed for again they’d reached a dead end. This time, their obstacle was a door made of pure ebony. The scholar inside him marvelled at this unique display of architectural knowledge yet the realist in him wished it was rusted iron instead. It would have been a much easier obstacle for his spells that way.
“Damn you, why do you have to be here?!” He shouted at the door in frustration. To his surprise, the door answered.
“Behind me lies your goal. Answer my riddle, if you dare. Answer well, and I shall serve you. Answer wrong, and I shall unleash the spiders you have passed.” It rumbled with a voice no being of flesh and blood would ever possess.
“If cell 3 holds worthless brass, cell 2 holds the gold key. If cell 1 holds the gold key, cell 3 holds worthless brass. If cell 2 holds brass, cell 1 holds the gold key. Now answer me, which cell holds the key that unlocks me?”
Marsh blinked twice. That was the same riddle Rajn had been obsessed with for days.
“I must think, and think quick. We must escape, for Aran’s sake. Which cell holds the key?” He thought and unconsciously relieved his grip on the Bosmer.
“Rajn, you’ve been thinking about this for days. What option is definitely incorrect?” He asked and looked to his side.
“Rajn?!” He shouted when he didn’t find her. He looked ahead and saw that she was kicking the door.
“Cell 2 holds the gold key!” She shouted.
“That is correct.” The door howled. Marsh breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know where she suddenly got the answer from, but he was glad she got it.
“But free the spiders anyway!” She suddenly demanded which shocked him. Marsh next uttered a sigh of frustration.
“You want to die?” He asked her but she’d already stormed off again, in the wrong direction.
Aran tried to dodge the latest blow but the werewolf had now figured out his pattern and changed the angle of his blow accordingly. He felt the claws tear through his shirt and dig into his flesh. As the claws ripped through him, they dragged him along till he hit the wall and sank to the floor.
“Not bad, not bad at all. But it’s still too bad.” The werewolf gloated.
“Hey, ya meanie! Leave my Arie alone!” He looked up. Rajn was standing halfway down the corridor, apparently oblivious to the fact that about a dozen giant spiders were moving towards her, with mandibles that clicked in anticipation of warm flesh. He also saw the Argonian run in, forming his hands into a cup as if he was preparing to hurl a spell. The Bosmer turned her head to look at the mage.
What he couldn’t see, was the wink she gave Marsh. Marsh stopped and his half-formed Heyat vanished. He hesitated. He should help her but she’d gave him a wink.
“You want me to trust you?” He thought.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He muttered.
The werewolf cast one last glance at the Dunmer who was bleeding his life away and then stormed down the corridor.
“I will not let those eight-legged monsters steal the pleasure of your death away from me!” He roared. Rajn smiled and crouched down. The clicking sounds she produced were almost drowned out by the thunderous rumble of the black wolf’s feet that came closer rapidly. Yet the spiders had heard it. As one, they turned around and began to march. With raised forelegs, they leaped upon the werewolf as he passed and sank their poisonous mandibles into his flesh.
The impact of his body hitting the ground made the entire room shake. The pain of the poison, the pain of the spiders eating him while he was still alive. It was too much to endure. He noticed how the Bosmer rushed past him before he was forced to close his eyes.
“Arie! Say something!” Rajn pleaded, pushing against the Dunmer’s chest. Aran coughed and winced.
“Just stop pushing the wound and tear up my shirt! Wrap it around the wound, as a bandage.” He wheezed. Marsh, who had stayed behind to make sure the werewolf was no longer a threat and had observed that the spiders only had interest in their meal, now strode up to them.
“Let me help.” He simply said and wrapped the makeshift bandages tightly around the Dunmer’s chest.
“That’s good. I’ll need a healer though to fix up the damage caused from muscles not healing properly. But that can wait.” Aran whispered.
Marsh heaved the Dunmer onto his shoulder. Rajn fell in at the other side, only to notice that she was too short to be of any help with lifting. Instead she went back to the spiders and clicked some more after which the spiders all scittered through the now open door.
“How do you do that?” Marsh asked her once she’d returned with a smug grin. Rajn shrugged.
“Dunno. I think I made them think I’m their child or something. They’re off hunting out there. That’s what they think. I think they’re providing an escort.” She said. Aran chuckled.
“Who would want you as their kid? You’re nothing but trouble. Nice trick you pulled on the dog though. Want to take his teeth for a souvenir?” He said and winced again.
“Eek, I’m not getting near that thing! It may be dead, but I’m still afraid it’s gonna kill me if I get to close!” The girl shrieked. She then blinked and looked up.
“Wait a minute, I’m underground? Aiiieee! I’m scared!”
The door had opened without a sound, which was rather eery. It was a sign that its hinges were well-oiled, and had been oiled recently. Together with the spiders, it told Marsh that this place was much less abandoned as the outside wanted him to believe.
“Aran, think you can lean on your spear instead of me?” He asked the Dunmer who managed to nod. He gripped his spear tightly with his hand and drew his crippled arm around Rajn to keep her from running around aimlessly. The Bosmer visibly calmed down the moment he did that.
“Good. Stay behind me from now on. I’ve got a Heyat ready for whatever is waiting down there and I’m not afraid to use it.” The Argonian mage added.
The sight that greeted him could not have surprised him anymore, if his mind hadn’t grown numb to surprise after all which had happened. So as it was now, he merely shrugged at the sight of the red carpet, or the sight of a vicious black wolf ripping into a spider, fire leaping from its fangs with every bite.
“More wolves. At least not the werewolf type.” He simply noted. He heard a mufled ‘dog’ behind him and shook his head.
“Keep an eye on her, friend. I’ll handle this one.”
The spider had now been thoroughly dismembered and the hungry demon turned on the three newcomers, its flaming eyes displaying a savage hunger. It howled and began its charge forward, it leaped into the air, aiming straight for the Argonian’s scaley throat. Marsh raised his hands before his face and filled his lungs.
“Heyat!” He shouted, the bolt of blinding light formed and shot out, striking the wolf in its wide-open maw. The searing heat of the spell did little to the creature, being accustomed to breathing fire as it was. Yet it had struck with such great force, that it crashed through the mouth, up through the skull where it vaporized the much more fragile brains before breaking free behind its ears. Marsh leaped aside to dodge the now limp corpse which continued on the path it had taken in life.
The Heyat arced back around and again it struck the infernal creature, tearing through it twice more to make sure it had truly been defeated. It then came to a halt near the ceiling where it hovered, awaiting further instructions of its master.
“That would explain the wolf tracks you discovered on the stairs. There may yet be more. It would be prudent to keep that scorching light around.” Aran reasoned.
Slowly, both because of the Dunmer’s wounds and out of general discretion, the group followed the red carpet. As they came across yet more arachnid remains, Marsh was the first to notice the gradual increase in temperature. The tunnel they were in curved to the right and the Argonian sent his Heyat around it first to bait out anything that might be waiting. A skeleton screeched, then its bones were scattered by a few passes of the spell. Rounding the corner, they saw a large chamber, greater than any they had seen before. A bridge that seemed to continue forever was suspended above a lake of steaming magma.
“Magma? I thought this was only found at Red Mountain.” Aran whispered, stunned. Rajn peeked out from behind his back.
“Oh, pretty.” She gasped. Marsh checked around for any threats after which he dissipated the Heyat.
“While it is unlikely and even inconceivable to find such a large deposit of molten rock, it is not impossible. It is definitely within the limits of whatever being has constructed this place. Sentient doors, a room so vast, its roof would collapse under its own weight if not supported by an invisible force. A bridge, built to cross a pool that would make building it quite a challenge, to say the least. This was not the work of Dwemer, but of something else.” The Argonian spoke softly. He carefully set a foot upon the bridge and after realizing that it wasn’t an illusion and would hold his weight, he continued with more confidence.
After a long time, something appeared at the edge of their vision. It was an island, suspended above the boiling waves. A cage of dark steel had been built upon it and a golden door beckoned for them to approach.
“I hope it is not another riddle.” Marsh whispered as he strode up to the portal. As he had feared, the shining barrier sprung to life and a deep voice echoed throughout the chamber.
“You have passed my sibling. Now I shall test you to see if you are truly worthy of the prize I protect. Answer my riddle, prove your wits. Know that there shall be no consequences if you fail, safe for that you shall find these walls to be impenetrable. However, don’t answer recklessly for I shall give no more than one chance.” It instructed. Marsh sighed. He had come too far to turn back now. On the other hand, he did not belief in the ‘no consequences’ portion.
“Keep your distance, you two.” He told his companions.
“Present your riddle, door.”
“I am skin, yet neither flesh nor scale. Five fingers have I, yet neither bone nor blood. I am a part of you, yet not. Answer, what am I?” The door asked. The Argonian thought long and hard about the riddle. He had only one chance and he was determined to make it count.
“Skin, yet neither flesh nor scale. So it is a soft and flexible substance, but not part of a living being. Five fingers, yet neither bone nor blood. Hollow? Part of you, yet not. So it is not part of me in a way. Part of me only when I choose? Part and not part as I please?” He gazed at his hands, flexing the fingers and studying the fine lines of his scales.
“Of course.”
He rose his voice.
“Glove.” He spoke loud and clear.
“Correct.” The door replied and opened without any further sounds. The mage chuckled.
“Ok, so we’ve got the test of mind in the forms of these riddles, the test of strenght in the form of spiders, skeletons and wolves. So where is the test of speed?” He wondered out loud as they entered the cage. There was nothing to be seen. Its walls were smoother than ice. There were no lights, no distinguishing features anywhere. When they pressed on though, it was as if a veil had been lifted. Suddenly, a sharp wedge of ebony floated before their eyes, purple flames flickering in an everchanging pattern. Behind it, there was a vertical wall of motionless water. A shiftgate.
“So this is the Tooth of Chaos? It looks like a speartip to me.” Aran observed and coughed. Rajn frowned and pulled herself free from the Ashlander’s embrace so she could get a closer look.
“Neat fireworks. So, who’s going to risk his hand grabbing that thing?” She asked, hiding her own within the sleeves of her jacket to demonstrate that it definitely wouldn’t be her.
“I am more worried about that Shiftgate. It has every feeling of a trap. But yes, the fire might prove to be dif….” Marsh answered but was cut of by a howl in the distance. That howl was soon joined by another, then yet another, a dozen more.
All three looked at the door behind them. Still far away, approaching across the bridge, they could see a whole gathering of gleaming red eyes and burning flames. Aran counted them with the precision and expertise of a hunter.
“Fourteen, too many.” He noted grimly. Rajn had been counting for herself and reached the same conclusion.
“Wah! Run!” She screamed. A Heyat formed in Marsh’ hands as the Argonian prepared to fight for his life.
“Run? Where to?!” He questioned. Rajn simply ran past him without a word and jumped through the shiftgate.
“Rajn! Wait! We don’t know where it leads and it’s only one-way!” Aran shouted. He took one glance at the wolves running across the bridge, one glance at Marsh and let out a heavy sigh.
“Ancestors, she’s going to end up killing us all someday.” He complained and gave chase, following her through the gate.
Marsh grumbled angrily at being abandoned so readily.
“Of course. He’s got this promise to keep or he’ll lose his honour. I suppose I can cope with that and he is right. There are too many to fight. That shiftgate is our only hope for survival, no matter how slim.” He told himself, flung his Heyat at the pack, turned around, ran for the shiftgate, grabbed the speartip as he flew past and hurled himself through the gate. The last thought he had before he breached the wall of water was one of surprise. The ebony blade had cut his skin, but the fire had died out the moment he touched the odd object.
The wolves came to a halt before the pool of ordinary water that had been a gate to a faraway place at one point.
“And off they go, right on schedule.” Revarim Kendri noted, patting one of the demonic wolves on the head. He then sighed.
“Keeping track of a war in the south, keeping a leash on that clumsy assassin whose life I’ll have to save and keeping those three on the right path. It is too much for one old man.” He mumbled.
On to the next chapter
They looked upon the Dragon’s gate. It was a simple stone construct, elegant in its simplicity. On its flat top however, was a gigantic statue of a Dragon, suspended between two pillars. A small distance from the gate was a large castle whose walls were beginning to crack after long years of neglect. With the Dragon on one side and the castle on the other, it was an impressive sight indeed.
“If cell 3 holds brass, cell 2 holds the gold key. If cell 1 holds gold, cell 3 holds brass. If cell 2 holds brass, cell 3 holds the gold key.” Rajn mumbled to herself as she’d been mumbling for three days now.
“Still going on about that riddle the shopkeeper gave you?” Aran asked dryly.
“Uhuh. I just can’t figure it out. If one goes, the other doesn’t. I can’t make sense of it! At least I got some nice jewellery while he was giving the riddle. Like my necklace? Look, real Ebony!” The girl replied and smiled.
“If it wasn’t for the prophecy, I would’ve never brought a thief along.” Marsh noted.
“So where do we look first?” Aran asked the Argonian in an attempt to change the subject. The fact that he had vowed to protect a thief with his life didn’t sit well with him either. But his honour was at stake and he would not back down. Besides, she did have her good sides, from time to time.
“Our sources specifically mentioned the Dragon’s gate. According to the locals, the gate is that structure with the dragon. I’d say we go in through there.” Marsh explained. Aran nodded and flipped out the blades on his spear. He had a hunch that they couldn’t just walk in and pick it up, neatly wrapped in paper and sealed with a red ribbon. It would be dangerous.
“Rajn, stay here.” He commanded.
“Stay here? I don’t think so. What happened to the ‘all for one, one for all’ spirit?” Rajn complained. She demonstratively pushed past them and jumped on the rocky path leading to the gate.
“No, you’re staying here! Here it is safer than there. Besides, we’re going underground.” Aran added when he noticed that as usual, she wasn’t listening.
“So? I’m not a wussie!”
Marsh sighed as the two began to squabble once again.
“I am with Aran. If I may be so blunt, you would only be a hindrance.” He hissed. Instantly, the girl’s glare shifted from the Dunmer to him.
“A hindrance? Explain!” She shouted.
“We don’t need a hysterical claustrophobe who tries to strangle my tail while screaming about big dogs trying to eat her.” Marsh shouted back.
“You didn’t see it! And you shouldn’t have poofed out that light!” Aran felt that this argument was getting a bit too hot now and stepped between them.
“Stop this! Rajn, you know that you can’t handle being underground. And Marsh, did you ever look at her legs?” He spoke loud and clear. Marsh blinked. He had no idea what this comment was supposed to mean.
“Look at her legs? What, does he now think I’m some kind of pervert? Heck, she’s an elf, not my type!” He thought.
“Well hello, little Bosmer to big Dunmer. Of course he didn’t look up my legs! If I wanted people to look up my legs, I would be wearing a skirt! And I don’t wear skirts outdoors! Too breezy and no privacy!” Rajn shrieked. Both the Dunmer and the Argonian frowned.
“I said, look at your legs, not up.” Aran noted.
“Marsh, Rajn once nearly got killed by a large wolf or something. I believe she’s still suffering from it. It happened underground. And it was a talking wolf.” He continued. At the last sentence, Marsh’s eyes widened.
“A lycanthrope?” He asked out loud.
“I see, my apologies. But I stay at my opinion. You will stay outside. We’ll come back as soon as possible. And don’t worry, I am certain that there isn’t a lycanthrope anywhere near. Their natural habitat is Skyrim. It is too warm for them here.” The Argonian said and motioned to Aran to get moving.
“You didn’t have to tell him that I have this big trauma.” Rajn grumbled, kicking a pebble.
“Geez, no fun with these bozos. You’d think that all men outside my twin brother are all either incredibly dull or sick perverts. Eh, I guess I’ll go raid that castle and look for some shiny.” She fumed in silence.
“And don’t go raid the castle. It is probably not safe there.” Aran called out over his shoulder.
“Gah! He’s a mindreader!” The girl yelled in shock. Aran rose an eyebrow.
“A what? I can assure you that I do not read minds, I simply know how you think. And could you pick the door leading into the gate? I’ll see if I can find anything shiny down there to make it up to you.” He grunted. At the mention of shiny, Rajn raced forward and took a lockpick out of her clasp.
“There you go, have fun. I’ll just go sit there and be bored.” She said after the lock clicked and creaked.
The two men vanished into the dark depths of the Dragon’s gate. Within the cover of the forest that ringed the gate and the castle, two yellow eyes peered out, gazing at the sun and then at the gate.
“It will be a full moon tonight. And they left her all alone. How fitting, it was the werewolf that injured her, it will now be the werewolf that kills her. I hope you’ve made your peace, Rajn.”
Marsh and Aran looked into the dimly lit corridor up ahead. Old and rusted tracks ran along one side of the wall, soon taking a dive into the gate’s depths.
“This isn’t a gate. It’s an abandoned mine.” Marsh observed.
“Hmm, I now doubt the Dwemer involvement as well. The architecture on the castle is nothing like what I’ve seen in the libraries. Nor did the Dwemer have this fascination for dragons.” He added. Aran looked over the rough walls of hewn rock and concluded that he had to agree. This was nothing like the Dwemer ruins he’d explored as a child, despite parental objection.
“I’ll be a bit more reserved before claiming it to be abandoned. There are torches on the wall, burning torches.” He said, bringing his voice down to a whisper.
Marsh now looked at the row of burning torches as well. He edged closer to the nearest and studied it as well as he could without touching.
“Magicka. Magic torches. These have been burning for a while, but not for thousands of years. You’re right, friend. This place isn’t as abandoned as we thought.” The Argonian concluded after a while.
“And look at that split in the path up ahead. The torches only follow one of the paths. Is it a trail?” Right after he’d wondered about this, a gray hand brusquely shoved him back.
“A trap. And no way to go forward but right through it. Stay behind me, Marsh. And be prepared to cover me.” Aran spoke and put himself in front of the more fragile mage. Marsh nodded behind the warrior’s back and lit up a Heyat.
“Then let us proceed. If you see any enemy that is clearly of supernatural origin, give me a sign. I smell the scent of necromancy here. Be on the lookout for moving corpses and skeletons.” He hissed. The two retreated into silence and moved into the mine, following the trail that had been set before him.
Outside the gate, Ra’trith pressed himself against the damp ground. He was grateful for the change from a desert to a colder and wetter forest, though the foliage provided other difficulties with sneaking. He felt quite secure with his hiding place. Unlike last time, he had yet to be discovered, and it had been two hours since the elf’s companions left. He looked at the sun and grinned.
“Just a bit longer. When the moons rise, the time has come.” He gloated.
“Having a crush on a young lady? You are quite the stalker, it seems.” Ra’trith rolled his eyes and reluctantly peered over his shoulder. A familiar old Redguard leaned against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. His brown robe and equally brown skin were an almost perfect camouflage against the bark of the tree.
“Revarim Kendri, I do not have a crush on any lady, nor will I ever have. That foolish emotion known as love is only for the weak. If I have nothing to protect, I have nothing that can be taken from me.” He whispered. Not that it really mattered much now. The Redguard had not even attempted to keep his voice down.
Kendri gave one of his peculiar smiles.
“No need to whisper. There is a silenced zone within ten metres.” He said casually. The assassin peeked his ears.
“Ten metres? That’s quite a lot. Not something every mage can do.” He realized. Not only was the old Redguard an impressive fighter, but he was also an accomplished mage now. Ra’trith had found a new side to his unwanted follower, a side he’d rather not seen.
“Just why are you following me?” He asked in a demanding tone.
“I’m not following you.” Kendri replied which got the Khajiit angry.
“You are not following me? Then how come you are always getting in the way when I try to do my job? If it wasn’t because of you, I would have been done days ago.” He hissed and fell silent as he came to a realization.
“You are following them. Why?” He noted to which the Redguard nodded.
“Sharp, willing to think despite that hotblooded attitude. Even willing to wait and observe the situation in case the first attempt goes wrong. Yes, you do have potential. Perhaps I should watch you more closely.” The old man said mysteriously.
“Dammit, Kendri! You will answer my questions or you will die!” Ra’trith interrupted which made Kendri laugh.
“Die this, die that. You have a one-track mind, a flaw that needs to be corrected if you wish to have any chance at achieving your ultimate goal.” Ra’trith got up from the ground and walked closer. The Redguard didn’t move, not even when the Khajiit put a claw on his throat.
“I could kill you with a single stroke. Do you want to mock me?” He whispered in the man’s ear.
“I doubt you could, not now and not ever unless something happens to make you learn of the greater power you possess within your soul. I have survived a slitted throat before, give or take a dozen times. It is quite annoying. I can’t speak properly for an hour or two. Very bothersome.” Kendri revealed and now smiled openly, showing a pair of elongated fangs.
Ra’trith jerked back.
“A vampire. What does a vampire do here? And how does a vampire survive out in the open?” He thought, not realizing he had spoken his thoughts as well. The vampire tucked his hand under his robe and retrieved an amulet with the colour and sheen of wet blood.
“You should have guessed by now. Why else would Vicente be so interested in disposing of me? I have learned to turn my weakness into an advantage, unlike you. If a vampire can feed, that vampire can walk in the sun as much as he likes. What if that vampire learns how to keep himself fed constantly without requiring a living host? The result stands before you. But enough about me. Now it is time to begin your lesson. Listen and don’t move.”
The Khajiit wanted to answer, to tell the old man to go away but he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk, or even move. He could only breathe. He had been paralyzed.
“First of all, let’s discuss what you are doing wrong here.” Kendri began as he paced around the frozen form of the assassin.
“You are here to murder that girl over there who is playing with a small pile of pebbles. Why do you want to kill her? To achieve a form of petty vengeance. This is low, even for the Dark Brotherhood. Vicente has done a bad job raising you. Your skills are impressive, for what they’re worth, yet your soul has been buried deep under that smothering fog of hate.”
Ra’trith’s tail twitched slightly. The paralyzation was losing its effect slowly.
“You are so obsessed with this that you have forgotten your greater purpose. To assassinate the man who sits on the throne. As it is right now, you don’t stand a chance. I have told you about mercy before, what advantages it can bring. Did you ever hear of the saying ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’? While it is rather naïve, there is truth. An enemy of an enemy can be your greatest ally. And an alliance, while usually shortlived, has the potential of surviving long after its original purpose has been fulfilled. You don’t understand now but if you take the time to observe and learn from those who you’re following, you will understand someday. And you will know the truth that I’m speaking.” The Redguard stopped in front of the Khajiit’s face.
“Learn to look beyond your lust for blood. Look at what helps you achieve your goal. And of all things, remember that a strong will cannot be defeated by the swords of an army, or the claws of an assassin. If your will is absolute, you cannot be defeated even by the Daedra. Now if you excuse me, I have business on the Valenwood-Elsweyr border.”
The paralyzation released its hold upon him without warning. Enraged, Ra’trith lunged at the vampire, digging his claws into his face. Or at least, that’s what he tried. Kendri was no longer standing there. Ra’trith felt the air thin as he passed through the location where the man had been. It was as if the man had left a hole in the air where he’d stood.
“Kendri!” He roared. He could feel it now, the tingle that had been helt back while he was paralyzed. He was beginning to change. The werewolf had been awakened.
“I’ll deal with you next time. But now, I’ll show you how much petty vengeance pleases me!”
Rajn looked up from her pebble-tower. She’d heard something. Nearby.
“You may wish to flee for now. That lycantrophe out there is not in a good mood. My apologies, for I believe I was a bit too harsh on its fragile self-image.” A voice whispered in her ear. She jumped up from the rock she’d been seated on and drew her bow as she turned around. Nothing, there was nothing. She now looked more closely, with her unbound eye as well. Once again, nothing. Except a trail of magicka.
“Drat, some kind of practical joke with magicka-messages. Marsh, I’ll stomp on your tail real hard when you come back. That’s not funny!” She thought. Then something howled which made her turn around again, to face the forestedge. A hulking shadow leaped from the bushed, a hulking shadow with two blazing yellow eyes and two rows of sharp teeth that glittered silvery in the moonlight.
“Waaaaahhh!!!!!” The Bosmer screamed and ran away in panic.
“Seek rest once more!” Aran shouted and pummelled the skeletal warrior with broad sweeps of his spear, scattering its bones across the room. The undead gave one last pitiful wail and collapsed in a pile on the floor, the axe it had held lay on top as a testament to its forgotten glory. The Dunmer leaned on his spear and looked at the stairs leading down.
“I hope that was the last one. Necromancy makes me feel uneasy.” He admitted. Marsh said nothing but beckoned his companion to descend the stairs. They could only move forward.
The stepping stones seemed unusually damp. The Argonian bent down and scraped across one of the stones with a finger. Next he brought the finger up to his face and sniffed.
“A wolf has come here, a breed I’m not familiar with. Quite recently.” He commented. Aran gripped his spear more tightly.
“You are a better tracker than I am.” He admitted. The bottom of the stairs now came within view.
“Perhaps, but don’t forget that the land you were born in does not provide much opportunity to hide while my land provides plenty, as well as many kinds of poison. A good nose is essential to survive in Argonia. But this is recognition of smells. If it comes to following tracks, I’d put my money on Rajn back up there.” Marsh replied. They took the last step and entered another room.
A peculiar sight greeted them. They were in a wide corridor, with cells lining both walls. Bowls filled with burning oil lit up the walls that separated each cell. The trampling of countless legs reached their ears and they both felt slightly nervous at the sound. Aran stepped further into the room and moved towards the first cell on his right.
“Wait, there could be tripwires that trigger a trap. This place feels like a trap through and through.” Marsh hissed urgently. Aran slowed down and now methodically checked the ground before him before making another step. Finally, he’d reached the cell and peered inside.
“A huge spider, about the size of a dog. And there is a half-rotten corpse near it. The corpse looks like it came off of a horse.” He said, half-surprised and half-disgusted at the sight.
“All of this sounds quite recent. I wonder if….” Marsh began yet fell silent. He cocked his head to one side and listened. Had he heard something, something that was not excited spiders running around in cells?
“Marsh?” Aran asked with one eye on the cell and the other on the Argonian.
“Shhh! I heard something.” Marsh hissed back. Now both listened and tried to shut out the spiders from their mind and focus on that elusive sound they’d heard.
“Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!” Out of the shadows from the stairs came a small form that rushed right past the mage and didn’t stop till it had wrapped itself around the Dunmer’s leg.
“Rajn? What are you……We told you to stay outside!” Aran scolded her and rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“Oh great, what did I say about hysteric claustrophobes?” Marsh sighed.
“D…..D….Dog! It was big….big and black…a dog!” The Bosmer stammered inbetween panicked screams and gasps for breath.
“And there’s the dog again.” Marsh commented. He shook his head.
“Aran, it looks like we’re going to have to knock her out or something. She’s less of a bother as dead weight than she is right now. Or we could head back up and tie her to a tree or something.” He suggested. Aran glared at the Argonian and brusquely shook his head.
“Marsh, I’m not going to hit her on the head, not ever. And you won’t either. Now come over here and pull her off of my leg!” He ordered. Marsh sighed again and casually walked over to the two.
“You’re making the spiders go crazy.” He told the shivering girl who didn’t hear him.
“Now why do I have to drag her off your leg? She’s hysteric, suffering from delusions and likely to bite me like a rabid dog.” Marsh answered, counting his arguments on his fingers.
Aran stroke across the spear’s shaft with his thumb, causing the two blades to extend to their full length.
“She isn’t suffering from delusions, Marsh. And speaking of rabid dogs, there is one standing just behind you. Looks like it’s upwind because you didn’t smell it.” He said calmly. Marsh glanced over his shoulder and gulped.
“Ok, now get away from him.” He said and yanked Rajn away. The moment his leg had been freed, Aran jumped in front of the two and raised his spear to chestheight.
“I don’t have a quarrel with you, Dunmer. Step aside and I might just let you live.” The werewolf growled. Aran gave a grim smile.
“Marsh, take her with you and move on. And as for you, I told you before. You are not worthy as an opponent.” He said, directing his last words at the werewolf. The Werewolf was startled. In his mind, he recalled a foot hitting his snout and sending him over a ledge into a bottomless pit.
“So that was you! I’ve changed my mind. Come on, you’ll be my dinner!” He snarled. Aran’s smile vanished.
“I’m sorry, but I refuse to be anyone’s dinner. Now come and feel the might of my spear!”
The werewolf laughed, a sound that was nearly indistinguishable from his growls.
“You think that you can fight me with one hand and a piece of wood? What are you, a fool?” He taunted. Aran stood motionless.
“Perhaps I am a fool for fighting one like you head-on. Yet that makes me a fool who has something to protect. The Nix-hound that has been backed into a corner will fight the Kagouti.” He replied. This only served to further amuse the werewolf.
“Protect? You think that by throwing your life away you will protect anyone? Don’t you know that after I’ve ripped you apart, I’ll tear your friends to shreds as well?” The werewolf spat and looked over the warrior’s shoulder. There he saw how the Argonian was dragging the Bosmer with him past the many cells filled with spiders. This enraged him. He roared and tried to walk past the Dunmer.
“Out of the way! I have no time to play with you!”
Aran pressed his feet into the sand for better balance.
“If I die, then yes I believe you would hunt them. Yet I am not dead yet. With this spear, I invoke the power of the Urshilaku. You may speak your threats, but only after you have defeated me!” He shouted and dashed forward. The werewolf blinked. That man actually dared to charge him head-on?
“Fool!” He roared and sweeped horizontally with his claws. But Aran hadn’t been charging without keeping his mind about him. Even before his foe had begun his movement, the Dunmer smashed his feet into the ground and jerked to a halt. His arm flew out still with the momentum of his charge. The spear, whose blade was like a small needle compared to the claws of the werewolf, found its mark.
“As long as I breathe, you will not pass.” The soft words were punctuated by the steady drip of blood.
The werewolf glared at his smaller opponent. The wound on the back of his hand burned.
“Silver, yet not poisoned. Perhaps I underestimated you.” He chuckled. He then lunged forward, seeking to use his greater strength and weight to his advantage. Aran skid out of the way and slashed the creature’s side as it passed. Before the werewolf had managed to stop, the Dunmer had already blocked the path to his friends.
“And you continue to underestimate me. Next time, that blade won’t cut your skin, but seek your heart between your ribs.”
Marsh rushed through the room he found at the end of the corridor as fast as he could. Rajn was surprisingly stubborn and refused to go with him, forcing him to drag her along. He would’ve expected that with the werewolf behind them, she would be the first to run away. He stopped at the other side and cursed. It was a dead end, with only three more cells lining the wall before them. Fortunately there were no spiders in these.
“No way out. If there isn’t a way, I must create one.” Marsh muttered to himself and sought for a crack he could fire his Heyat at.
A shadow to his left caught his attention. Looking closer, he saw that it was a narrow corridor leading out of the room. He cast a glance back at the battle raging behind them. Aran was holding his own, yet he was being pushed their way. Marsh made up his mind and dragged Rajn over to the corridor.
“Stop struggling. We’ve got to leave.” He hissed at her.
Again he cursed for again they’d reached a dead end. This time, their obstacle was a door made of pure ebony. The scholar inside him marvelled at this unique display of architectural knowledge yet the realist in him wished it was rusted iron instead. It would have been a much easier obstacle for his spells that way.
“Damn you, why do you have to be here?!” He shouted at the door in frustration. To his surprise, the door answered.
“Behind me lies your goal. Answer my riddle, if you dare. Answer well, and I shall serve you. Answer wrong, and I shall unleash the spiders you have passed.” It rumbled with a voice no being of flesh and blood would ever possess.
“If cell 3 holds worthless brass, cell 2 holds the gold key. If cell 1 holds the gold key, cell 3 holds worthless brass. If cell 2 holds brass, cell 1 holds the gold key. Now answer me, which cell holds the key that unlocks me?”
Marsh blinked twice. That was the same riddle Rajn had been obsessed with for days.
“I must think, and think quick. We must escape, for Aran’s sake. Which cell holds the key?” He thought and unconsciously relieved his grip on the Bosmer.
“Rajn, you’ve been thinking about this for days. What option is definitely incorrect?” He asked and looked to his side.
“Rajn?!” He shouted when he didn’t find her. He looked ahead and saw that she was kicking the door.
“Cell 2 holds the gold key!” She shouted.
“That is correct.” The door howled. Marsh breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know where she suddenly got the answer from, but he was glad she got it.
“But free the spiders anyway!” She suddenly demanded which shocked him. Marsh next uttered a sigh of frustration.
“You want to die?” He asked her but she’d already stormed off again, in the wrong direction.
Aran tried to dodge the latest blow but the werewolf had now figured out his pattern and changed the angle of his blow accordingly. He felt the claws tear through his shirt and dig into his flesh. As the claws ripped through him, they dragged him along till he hit the wall and sank to the floor.
“Not bad, not bad at all. But it’s still too bad.” The werewolf gloated.
“Hey, ya meanie! Leave my Arie alone!” He looked up. Rajn was standing halfway down the corridor, apparently oblivious to the fact that about a dozen giant spiders were moving towards her, with mandibles that clicked in anticipation of warm flesh. He also saw the Argonian run in, forming his hands into a cup as if he was preparing to hurl a spell. The Bosmer turned her head to look at the mage.
What he couldn’t see, was the wink she gave Marsh. Marsh stopped and his half-formed Heyat vanished. He hesitated. He should help her but she’d gave him a wink.
“You want me to trust you?” He thought.
“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He muttered.
The werewolf cast one last glance at the Dunmer who was bleeding his life away and then stormed down the corridor.
“I will not let those eight-legged monsters steal the pleasure of your death away from me!” He roared. Rajn smiled and crouched down. The clicking sounds she produced were almost drowned out by the thunderous rumble of the black wolf’s feet that came closer rapidly. Yet the spiders had heard it. As one, they turned around and began to march. With raised forelegs, they leaped upon the werewolf as he passed and sank their poisonous mandibles into his flesh.
The impact of his body hitting the ground made the entire room shake. The pain of the poison, the pain of the spiders eating him while he was still alive. It was too much to endure. He noticed how the Bosmer rushed past him before he was forced to close his eyes.
“Arie! Say something!” Rajn pleaded, pushing against the Dunmer’s chest. Aran coughed and winced.
“Just stop pushing the wound and tear up my shirt! Wrap it around the wound, as a bandage.” He wheezed. Marsh, who had stayed behind to make sure the werewolf was no longer a threat and had observed that the spiders only had interest in their meal, now strode up to them.
“Let me help.” He simply said and wrapped the makeshift bandages tightly around the Dunmer’s chest.
“That’s good. I’ll need a healer though to fix up the damage caused from muscles not healing properly. But that can wait.” Aran whispered.
Marsh heaved the Dunmer onto his shoulder. Rajn fell in at the other side, only to notice that she was too short to be of any help with lifting. Instead she went back to the spiders and clicked some more after which the spiders all scittered through the now open door.
“How do you do that?” Marsh asked her once she’d returned with a smug grin. Rajn shrugged.
“Dunno. I think I made them think I’m their child or something. They’re off hunting out there. That’s what they think. I think they’re providing an escort.” She said. Aran chuckled.
“Who would want you as their kid? You’re nothing but trouble. Nice trick you pulled on the dog though. Want to take his teeth for a souvenir?” He said and winced again.
“Eek, I’m not getting near that thing! It may be dead, but I’m still afraid it’s gonna kill me if I get to close!” The girl shrieked. She then blinked and looked up.
“Wait a minute, I’m underground? Aiiieee! I’m scared!”
The door had opened without a sound, which was rather eery. It was a sign that its hinges were well-oiled, and had been oiled recently. Together with the spiders, it told Marsh that this place was much less abandoned as the outside wanted him to believe.
“Aran, think you can lean on your spear instead of me?” He asked the Dunmer who managed to nod. He gripped his spear tightly with his hand and drew his crippled arm around Rajn to keep her from running around aimlessly. The Bosmer visibly calmed down the moment he did that.
“Good. Stay behind me from now on. I’ve got a Heyat ready for whatever is waiting down there and I’m not afraid to use it.” The Argonian mage added.
The sight that greeted him could not have surprised him anymore, if his mind hadn’t grown numb to surprise after all which had happened. So as it was now, he merely shrugged at the sight of the red carpet, or the sight of a vicious black wolf ripping into a spider, fire leaping from its fangs with every bite.
“More wolves. At least not the werewolf type.” He simply noted. He heard a mufled ‘dog’ behind him and shook his head.
“Keep an eye on her, friend. I’ll handle this one.”
The spider had now been thoroughly dismembered and the hungry demon turned on the three newcomers, its flaming eyes displaying a savage hunger. It howled and began its charge forward, it leaped into the air, aiming straight for the Argonian’s scaley throat. Marsh raised his hands before his face and filled his lungs.
“Heyat!” He shouted, the bolt of blinding light formed and shot out, striking the wolf in its wide-open maw. The searing heat of the spell did little to the creature, being accustomed to breathing fire as it was. Yet it had struck with such great force, that it crashed through the mouth, up through the skull where it vaporized the much more fragile brains before breaking free behind its ears. Marsh leaped aside to dodge the now limp corpse which continued on the path it had taken in life.
The Heyat arced back around and again it struck the infernal creature, tearing through it twice more to make sure it had truly been defeated. It then came to a halt near the ceiling where it hovered, awaiting further instructions of its master.
“That would explain the wolf tracks you discovered on the stairs. There may yet be more. It would be prudent to keep that scorching light around.” Aran reasoned.
Slowly, both because of the Dunmer’s wounds and out of general discretion, the group followed the red carpet. As they came across yet more arachnid remains, Marsh was the first to notice the gradual increase in temperature. The tunnel they were in curved to the right and the Argonian sent his Heyat around it first to bait out anything that might be waiting. A skeleton screeched, then its bones were scattered by a few passes of the spell. Rounding the corner, they saw a large chamber, greater than any they had seen before. A bridge that seemed to continue forever was suspended above a lake of steaming magma.
“Magma? I thought this was only found at Red Mountain.” Aran whispered, stunned. Rajn peeked out from behind his back.
“Oh, pretty.” She gasped. Marsh checked around for any threats after which he dissipated the Heyat.
“While it is unlikely and even inconceivable to find such a large deposit of molten rock, it is not impossible. It is definitely within the limits of whatever being has constructed this place. Sentient doors, a room so vast, its roof would collapse under its own weight if not supported by an invisible force. A bridge, built to cross a pool that would make building it quite a challenge, to say the least. This was not the work of Dwemer, but of something else.” The Argonian spoke softly. He carefully set a foot upon the bridge and after realizing that it wasn’t an illusion and would hold his weight, he continued with more confidence.
After a long time, something appeared at the edge of their vision. It was an island, suspended above the boiling waves. A cage of dark steel had been built upon it and a golden door beckoned for them to approach.
“I hope it is not another riddle.” Marsh whispered as he strode up to the portal. As he had feared, the shining barrier sprung to life and a deep voice echoed throughout the chamber.
“You have passed my sibling. Now I shall test you to see if you are truly worthy of the prize I protect. Answer my riddle, prove your wits. Know that there shall be no consequences if you fail, safe for that you shall find these walls to be impenetrable. However, don’t answer recklessly for I shall give no more than one chance.” It instructed. Marsh sighed. He had come too far to turn back now. On the other hand, he did not belief in the ‘no consequences’ portion.
“Keep your distance, you two.” He told his companions.
“Present your riddle, door.”
“I am skin, yet neither flesh nor scale. Five fingers have I, yet neither bone nor blood. I am a part of you, yet not. Answer, what am I?” The door asked. The Argonian thought long and hard about the riddle. He had only one chance and he was determined to make it count.
“Skin, yet neither flesh nor scale. So it is a soft and flexible substance, but not part of a living being. Five fingers, yet neither bone nor blood. Hollow? Part of you, yet not. So it is not part of me in a way. Part of me only when I choose? Part and not part as I please?” He gazed at his hands, flexing the fingers and studying the fine lines of his scales.
“Of course.”
He rose his voice.
“Glove.” He spoke loud and clear.
“Correct.” The door replied and opened without any further sounds. The mage chuckled.
“Ok, so we’ve got the test of mind in the forms of these riddles, the test of strenght in the form of spiders, skeletons and wolves. So where is the test of speed?” He wondered out loud as they entered the cage. There was nothing to be seen. Its walls were smoother than ice. There were no lights, no distinguishing features anywhere. When they pressed on though, it was as if a veil had been lifted. Suddenly, a sharp wedge of ebony floated before their eyes, purple flames flickering in an everchanging pattern. Behind it, there was a vertical wall of motionless water. A shiftgate.
“So this is the Tooth of Chaos? It looks like a speartip to me.” Aran observed and coughed. Rajn frowned and pulled herself free from the Ashlander’s embrace so she could get a closer look.
“Neat fireworks. So, who’s going to risk his hand grabbing that thing?” She asked, hiding her own within the sleeves of her jacket to demonstrate that it definitely wouldn’t be her.
“I am more worried about that Shiftgate. It has every feeling of a trap. But yes, the fire might prove to be dif….” Marsh answered but was cut of by a howl in the distance. That howl was soon joined by another, then yet another, a dozen more.
All three looked at the door behind them. Still far away, approaching across the bridge, they could see a whole gathering of gleaming red eyes and burning flames. Aran counted them with the precision and expertise of a hunter.
“Fourteen, too many.” He noted grimly. Rajn had been counting for herself and reached the same conclusion.
“Wah! Run!” She screamed. A Heyat formed in Marsh’ hands as the Argonian prepared to fight for his life.
“Run? Where to?!” He questioned. Rajn simply ran past him without a word and jumped through the shiftgate.
“Rajn! Wait! We don’t know where it leads and it’s only one-way!” Aran shouted. He took one glance at the wolves running across the bridge, one glance at Marsh and let out a heavy sigh.
“Ancestors, she’s going to end up killing us all someday.” He complained and gave chase, following her through the gate.
Marsh grumbled angrily at being abandoned so readily.
“Of course. He’s got this promise to keep or he’ll lose his honour. I suppose I can cope with that and he is right. There are too many to fight. That shiftgate is our only hope for survival, no matter how slim.” He told himself, flung his Heyat at the pack, turned around, ran for the shiftgate, grabbed the speartip as he flew past and hurled himself through the gate. The last thought he had before he breached the wall of water was one of surprise. The ebony blade had cut his skin, but the fire had died out the moment he touched the odd object.
The wolves came to a halt before the pool of ordinary water that had been a gate to a faraway place at one point.
“And off they go, right on schedule.” Revarim Kendri noted, patting one of the demonic wolves on the head. He then sighed.
“Keeping track of a war in the south, keeping a leash on that clumsy assassin whose life I’ll have to save and keeping those three on the right path. It is too much for one old man.” He mumbled.
On to the next chapter