Count Astros rose to his feet, still in awe of the unholy power witnessed from this Nord, tall and fierce like the steel-clad barbarians of old folklore. The ancient air caught in his throat as he steadied himself against the wall, in spite of the intoxicating gas filling his lungs, drawing his energy and will to live from every muscle. A cold kind of fear coursed through his spine as he gazed into the bloodied pools where Daenins sunken eyes lay, staring directly back at him. He could only assume that it was as dark outside now as it was between torches down there in the cold depths of the foreboding ruin.
Daenins cruel grin did not ease. If anything, it grew more terrifying with the second, and his dark hair only helped to frame his horrific stare. Astros coughed on the translucent stream of mist that was still pouring in from the brassy pipes, and from Daenins remarkable withstanding to the smoke he could only conclude that Daenin was a vampire, or perhaps a Thrall. But unknown to the dark Nord, the cough was fake, a lure to draw him closer for an easy strike – for Astros too was a vampire. He continued the weakened façade, as Daenin made a move. His metal boot thumped against the cold Dwemer floor and he drew in a sharp breathe of air, boasting of his hardy form and resistance to whatever was killing both Astros and Brenlya.
*Ffff… shick!*
A lone arrow carved through the air, missing Astros’ leg by a foot or so, and slid to a swift halt on the floor. All heads turned towards the parapets around the upper half of the chamber, scanning for the source of the arrow. Sure enough, Brenlya and Daenin saw the crouched silhouette between the golden-brown banisters.
Seeing his chance, Astros performed a silent roll to stop feet behind Daenin, snatching up the arrow as he went. He flicked the arrow to his left, and Daenin reacted perfectly with a swift cut –chopping the arrow into two separate pieces which dropped to floor. Perfect, if Astros hadn’t lunged to the opposite side and caught Daenins spare arm, forcing it up behind his back.
“Argh!” cried Daenin, forcing his pain down into his gut as he heard his arm crack.
“I’ll make it seem like I helped him with the arrow” muttered Fioran, unsheathing Chillrend with a satisfying swish. He grasped with banister with his other hand and propelled himself over the edge, landing hard but with a roll to dissipate the shock. He stopped feet from Brenlya, just where Astros had been crouching seconds before. With a triumphant look to Brenlya, his eyes telling her he was on her side, she nodded. He rose into a sprint toward Daenin, sword held like only a swordsman could.
“N’wah!” he cried, lunging forward as he brought his sword up sharply, cutting into the smoke.