18+ What Lies Beneath

[Kir the Silent]

“Down into the unknown dark we traveled. It had been nearly a week since I had seen the sun and somehow I felt I may never see it again. We recently crossed the Great Bridge and left the ruins of Dwartchlzend far behind. We are now deeper than any man or mer has dared go before. We've already lost nearly a dozen men, but Damien doesn’t seem to care. Ever since he found that dwemer text mentioning the glowing gate supposedly hidden in the underground land called the Deep Dark, it’s like nothing else matters. Even if this glowing gate does exist, what could possibly be behind it? The dwemer didn’t build it. Hell, they were mystified by it.”

“What does he expect us to do? The most advanced civilization couldn't get it open. Damien just smiles when I ask and says, ‘You'll see,’ like he’s got all the answers. Something’s not right though…even as I sit here writing this as we camp in the Deep Dark, I feel as though eyes are upon me. Something evil, something hungry just watching us from the pitch black surrounding us. This calls to mind an old proverb, ‘Sometimes when you stare into the abyss…the abyss stares back.”

Sometimes when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back. Kir closed the ancient journal. He thought how true those words were. He thought on how many times he had been there. On the precipice, staring into the abyss and the unknown it held within its darkened depths. But he was an assassin. He was used to dark places. He looked around at the camp buzzing with activity. He had spared no expense; there were guards and sellswords, miners and laborers, along with a scholar and a cook. They had built this makeshift camp in a few hours, waiting here for about three days while the last of the supplies and interested parties trickled in.

He had the couriers post the flyers to attract anyone brave, or foolish, enough to join this expedition into the fabled Deep Dark. What treasures…or horrors lay below the ground? Who built this mystical, glowing gate and why? Kir didn’t have any of these answers. Not yet. But one thing was certain. He would delve into the depths of Nirn and discover…what lies beneath

 

[White_Memories]

She was constantly seeking to prove that she was better than anyone could give her credit for, without having to rely on mass amounts of her own race to make it so. Walking with her head held high even as she explored the world of Skyrim, where her kind were still treated as a blight on Nirn. Enough time had passed since she'd left the college, setting out to explore all Skyrim had to offer. In the end, she had settled at a small shack on the outskirts of Falkreath and spent much of her time healing the sick and wounded. It wasn't what she might have once imagined herself doing but it helped her get by and fit in.

However, she grew bored of the steadfast lifestyle she had adopted and began to once more crave adventure. Without a real reason to leave her home she instead chose to stay, even though her boredom was obvious to all around her. Countless hours once spent helping others were instead turned to wandering the wilds and reading the vast amounts of books she got from the college. Less and less often she would be available to those inside of the city proper.

Perhaps it was chance that had put the flyer in her hands on one morning, when she was out gathering ingredients for potions to help with various diseases. Milky eyes scanned over it, widening slightly while she cracked a rare smile that alleviated the stern look on her face. There was a true promise of adventure in this opportunity and she was not about to pass it up. No hesitation and she was packing things that might be needed for the journey. Just because she was in a hurry didn't mean she was going to be foolish and leave out the things needed for survival. Comfort came after safety.

In the wee hours of the morning she gathered the knapsack that was filled with necessary items and whistled for her horse. Mounting, she began the ride towards The Rift, where she heard the camp for the expedition was going to be located. If Elanin didn't stop for any breaks, she would make it to the city within five days. However, if she cut through Helgen and instead went over the mountains as apposed to going around The Throat of the World she would barely manage 3 days.

Elanin set out, head held high and exhileration in her every breath, and kept her mount firmly in hand while she left the hold. Once out of range, she lossened the reigns and then cantered on.

As predicted, the Altmer was just walking up to the camp three days later. Her horse had met it's end some time before, to a pair of Frostbite Spiders, and the rest of the journey had been made on foot. The moment she saw the camp, one bronze brow rose in question and she boldy walked right in without a word. Momentarily, she wondered if anyone would comment on the fact that she was an Altmer.

On the heel of that thought was the simple fact that she could care less. Elanin wanted adventure and she was going to get it if she had to light someone on fire.

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

The town of Winterhold lay silent, save for the howling of the frigid winds. A blizzard had just passed, and the townspeople, knowing what to expect, had buried themselves inside to wait it out. Shops and homes were boarded up, and no one dared walk the streets, save for a few guards. The only place still active was the College. Perched high up on a jagged cliff, the large castle known as the College of Winterhold loomed over the small town below.

Walking from the dilapditaed stone bridge that connected the college to the town was Eldric, a part-time student, and mage in training. Normally, he would spend a month or so at the College, before retuning to his home in the city of Solitude. Not this time. This time, he was off on an adventure.

A few hours earlier, a Courier had appeared at the college gates, passing out mysterious flyers that told of an expedition in the Rift. Normally, this was the sort of nonsense Eldric left to the warriors, assassins, and Sellswords. But this letter mentioned something that had caught his attention: the Deep Dark.

It was every scholar's dream: an underground land, lost to time and untouched by modern civilization. Tales told of ancient treasures hidden there, of jewels and gold and knowledge unfathomable. Dwemer scrolls, locked doors that held secrets long buried... it was truly an exciting prospect. And deciding that it was worth investigating, Eldric had packed up and left earlier than usual.

He walked up to the carriage at the end of town, paid the driver, and set off for the Rift.

​

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Valin stepped out from the cave-like shelter he had been sleeping in. Today was the night of the full moon, Valin had been resisting the urge to turn for quite sometime. His pack was all the way in valenwood, and he was here, in skyrim, alone. Valin shook his head, knowing he couldn't let his mind wander. His upper back snapped downward, and Valin struggled to get back to his feet. This time it jerked twice, hunching over, Valin's spine cracked and pulled as it grew more and more designed for use of four legs. He called out in pain as he fell to his knees. His legs and feet broke and then grew, he could barely hold himself on his arms. From his knuckles grew out claws, the tips of his fingers falling off. Quite a few more seizure-like movements went on before Valin's werewolf fur tunic sank down into his skin. It morphed, turning completely midnight black. Struggling to his feet, he was now more than man, he was wolf.

The black wolf lost his humanly mind and took off. Hircine bestowed consequences for avoiding to turn. Valin ran, and ran. The morsel of humanly knowledge losing grip, until it was gone. The equivalent of a blackout while riding a horse... that enjoys the taste of human hearts.

The ranger woke up, he knew not where he was, nor how long he had been out. Valin did, however, know it was a couple days later, because he had no injuries from the black out. Valin hopped onto his feet, only to see Riften.
"I swear, full moons are better than skooma." Valin muttered to himself, giving off a slight laugh.

 

[Delusional]

A slight wind whistled through the autumn leaves of the dense forests of the Rift. The moonlight shone brightly overhead, it's luminescent glow coating the sprawl of trees before the Imperial man in a wondrous, profound light. The man was perched on a precipitous stone cliff, rising high above the landscape, reaching to kiss the sky. The young Imperial reached a hand to rub his drowsy eyes once more, and lifted his bottle of wine to his chapped and cracked lips.

The deep red liquid flowed gracefully down the man's throat, and dripped down off the bottle onto the man's ragged leather jerkin, red spots dotting the worn leather. he lowered the nearly empty bottle of wine and set it down beside him, teetering dangerously on the steep ledge where he had set up camp. The Imperial leaned forward, his forearms meeting his knees as his feet dangled carelessly over the cliff face. he coughed, and raised a hand to wipe his wine-stained lips.

Divines, why am I so lost? The man's eyes searched the infinite expanse of trees before him aimlessly. Oh come on Marcus, snap out of it. There are unexplored ruins everywhere, ruins that beg to be uncovered.

Marcus swung his legs up onto the ledge, accidentally knocking the wine bottle down off the ledge. Marcus followed the falling bottle as it was dashed against the unbreakable stone facet and it's red contents splattered against the rock. Damnit, that was good wine wasted.


The Imperial hoisted himself up off the ground and walked over to his makeshift camp, if you could call a bedroll and a leather pack a camp. He had no need for a fire, as it was too much work to light one so far up in the mountains, and he had dined on hard deer jerky and brittle carrots for his evening meal.

Marcus crawled into his bedroll, and pulled the thin sheepskin cover over his armored body. He preferred to sleep in his full attire, usually because he could not be bothered to take any of it off; also in cases of emergency, he could rise immediately and be fully armored. The Imperial reached a scarred hand up to his neck and with a grunt, pulled a dark leather hood over his head and messy black hair.

His eyelids shut, and sleep found him quickly as the sharp, cold gusts of wind slid off the wool bedroll and the man huddled underneath it; the moonlight shone brightly overhead.

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

(Okay guys, right now I have some time and I figured I would post despite how irritating it is to do so on a phone.)

A lone silhouette of a hooded figure walking with a staff paced slowly along the winding and treacherous path which snaked its way through the shadows of Tamriel's largest peak; the Throat of the World. A gust of frigid air tore by, blowing the stranger's hood from his head and revealing him to be Taric Hawkford, he narrowed his old, yet restless blue eyes as he surveyed the clouds above. He had just made the pilgrimage through the near impregnable passages to High Hrothgar, and had begun his descent back to Ivarstead earlier that day. He grumbled to himself as the cold stung his face and he pulled his hood back on, before continuing on his way.

The weather spared him no expense as snow and sleet rained down upon him. He clutched his wooden staff as he began moving at a faster pace, eventually a jog as thunder boomed above and the sleet and snow intensified into a full fledged blizzard. His old, rugged blue cloak could only do so much against some of Nirn's most unforgiving weather. By the time Taric reached the next milestone, he was chilled to the bone.

Yet he pressed through the flurry of ice and snow, finally arriving at the Vilemyr inn of Ivarstead. With a gasp, Taric barged through the wooden doors; the warmth and smell of roast washed over him, and a smile crossed his face as he seated himself at the bar.

"So, you made it back in one peace." Wilhelm, the inn's bartender remarked. "Ah, yes, nothing these old bones couldn't handle." Taric replied with a smile. Wilhelm chuckled, glad to have Taric; a good friend and regular patron, back. "I'll get you a warm pint, on the house." He said, turning his back to prepare the drink. "Much appreciated." Said Taric, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"So, while you were gone some folk stopped by. Couriers or something rather. Said they were looking for people interested in an expedition." Wilhelm slammed the foaming pint of mead on the counter, sliding it towards Taric. "Something about Dwarves I think." Taric looked at Wilhelm quizzically, his brow furrowed as he rubbed his beard. "Dwarves, eh?" Taric was no stranger to Dwemer culture, he studied the ancient race of Mer when he was younger; and though he was a little rusty, he was confident he could still translate Dwemer texts.

"I've got the flier here, if you'd be interested." The innkeeper added as he pulled a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket and spread it across the table. Taric read over it as he sipped from the pint, "Says here that there camp is here in the Rift." He remarked. Wilhelm nodded, turning his back to wash a few mugs. "Adventure always seems to find you, Taric." He said jokingly, Taric smiled, standing from his seat and heading out the door as he pocketed the flier.

(Sorry for no color, phone won't allow it.)

Sent from my Desire HD using Tapatalk 2

 

[Tiaz Raydari]

"Night after night I was walking, running or watching my back but not this night," Che'anni thought.

Che'anni had received an item of interest from a courier four nights back, the item contained a flyer and a map which showed the location of a camp which was to be found in The Rift. This flyer promised treasures and trinkets of unimaginable quantities but with a price of jumping into the depths of the world, who knew what they would find. Perhaps they would find Danger, Adventure or the thrill of exploration or maybe the darkness of the fissures that called us even they sometimes watched us or it could just find them.

Che'anni knew her eyes had just licked the information the flyer gave to her. She had to travel from The Reach to The Rift for the rest of the information that she needed for her commitment to such a dangerous yet awarding task that was brought before her by paper. She had always thought of her future and her time spent in Skyrim although she never came across such a venture, she was just looking to survive and that survival was often tempted by the forsworn that often tried their luck many times but failed. What will she get herself into, she had to know but in her heart she had already made a decision and that would not change regardless the outcome.

Exhausted from her travels Che'anni looked at the sky, Secunda and Masser, Nirn's moons shined upon the lake that was in her sight. She stood on the rocky, warm soil surrounded by the season changed trees. The Rift's climate was warm and lively, birds chirped, the wind whistled as it brushed against the rusty colored tree leaves. She felt The Rift's strong cool air along her face but she then woke up from her dreamlike state and dismissed her current thoughts which had wandered off her current goal, getting to the camp.

Che'anni looked over the area in her sight viewing just what she was looking for. She had hoped to gain the answers she wanted to find, what were they really going to do in the depths of Nirn? Into the depths would apply to simple treasure hunters but then these people did not sound like the type neither were they scholars wishing to study the objects they would find. She continued down the path until she met the entrance to the camp entered and then went to the nearest tree that provided the shade that she needed. Taking out and then opening one of her books that she kept in her backpack, this book was named Spirit of Nirn. She had seen the many more flyers that the courier possessed; she knew there would be more people so she sat down.

"Not this night, for this night I will be able to rest and observe this camp before going in with a deal she would not take back. But these simple comforts would not be given without some resistance," Che'anni thought.
She was going to open and start to read the book but a guard came along.

"Miss, do you have a reason to be here?" The guard asked.

Che'anni did not answer the guard instead just reached into her satchel and then handed him the flyer she had received four days back.

 

[Delusional]

Marcus woke with a start. Eyes snapped open, he lay motionless in his bedroll, eyes searching for the noise that had woken him. Slowly, the Imperial lifted himself from his bedroll, a hand reaching down to his waist where his shortsword dangled from a crude leather sheath. Marcus rose to his feet steadily and quietly gathered up his bedroll and pack, eyes still searching, ears still alert.

It was an easy task to pack up; soon the young Imperial was mobile, departing his campsite and heading back down the hill. Night still dominated the sky; and Nirn's twin moons provided a guiding light for Marcus as he maneuvered his way down the steep hill. His leather boots padded softly on the ground, lightly rustling the grass and brush.

Suddenly, a gruff voice called out, breaking the silence. "Hey! Over here!" Marcus dove to the ground, concealing himself in a nearby bush. He rose his head and watched as two men tread up the hill, clad in hide armor and holding lit, burning torches.

The two men, presumably bandits, took their time traversing the steep landscape, conversing rather loudly. As soon as they were out of Marcus' vision, he slipped out of the shrub and continued down the hill. Were those men looking for me? They had to have been... and what was the noise? Marcus thought as he descended the mountain, taking care to tread carefully and quietly; remain unseen.

The Imperial traveling for close to an hour, hoping to clear himself of the brigands. Tired and exhausted, Marcus stumbled through the dark forest of the Rift, eyes weighing heavy and legs aching. His body could not take anymore; it beckoned for sleep.

However, there was something in the distance that caught the Imperial's eye. It seemed as if it was a camp, or perhaps just a clearing, but Marcus could not be sure, as he was on the verge of collapse. He slowly made his way through the thick brush until he approached the clearing in the forest.

Stepping carefully and cautiously from the surrounding foliage into the clearing, the Imperial called out, throat dry and voice raspy. "Hello?"

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

It was quite late by the time Eldric arrived at the edge of the forest where the camp was located. Thanking the carriage driver, he slung his satchel over his shoulder, pulled his hood over his head, and set out on foot, hoping it wouldn't take too long to reach the campsite. Eldric hoped that the rest of forest was unpopulated; The last thing he needed at the moment was a bandit attack. Or worse, a bear.

The young mage could hardly see a thing, even under the light of Masser and Secunda. Stopping for a moment, he held his hand in the air and flicked his wrist, muttering a Daedric incantation for added durability. A glowing white orb appeared in his hand, illuminating the forest around him.

He continued walking, using the magelight to look for landmarks, tracks in dirt, or any other signs that could have told him of the campsite's location. Eldric heard a twig snap in the brush behind him, and quickly extinguished his light. He could make out a figure in the dark, a man.

Perhaps he's on his way back the campsite, Eldric thought. I should follow him. Maybe. Actually, following the strange man in the dark forest doesn't seem like a very good idea. Downright stupid, in fact. The shadowed figure kept moving, unaware of his presence. Well, it's now or never. Against his better judgement, Eldric followed the man through the forest, using magic to cloak himself just in case.

Apparently going against his instincts was the best thing Eldric could have done, as the man led him straight to the campsite. It was at this point that the Nord realized the man he had followed was arriving at the camp for the first time. So, he thought. It was pure dumb luck. I guess 'follow the strange man in the dark forest' isn't going to become my new standard backup plan.

The man stumbled out of the forest and into the clearing where the campsite was located. Finally without the cover of the trees, Eldric was able to see the man much more clearly under the moonlight. He was a tall man, and a slim one at that, but he still looked as though he could handle himself in a fight. His chestnut skin and dark black hair marked him as an Imperial.

"Hello?" The man called out, his voice sounding raspy and tired. Sensing the opportunity for a bit of fun, Eldric sneaked over until he was right next to the Imperial. Dissolving his invisibility spell, he spoke up.

"Hi!"

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

Through a road blanketed by a sheet of fog, Taric pressed through the Rift's woodlands in hopes of reaching the camp by sundown. On all sides, the slender trunks of birch trees stood tall, pale branches reaching towards the sky like withered fingers, enveloping the path with shadow. Taric stopped, an uneasy feeling rising in his gut as he glanced around. Something was wrong, he could sense it. The fog was nearly impregnable, only the silhouettes of the trees visible through the ghostly white shroud. In the distance, leaves rustled, the snapping of twigs underfoot filled the air, Taric narrowed his alert eyes tentatively scanning the area.

The fog along the pathway parted for a moment, revealing the dark shapes of three men. They were tall, standing a head taller than Taric. As the mist cleared up, the wizard could make out their features, they were oaks of men; muscles bulging through ringmail and leather. The silhouettes of axes, swords, maces, hanging from their hands. Helmets mounted with horns and antlers gave them the visage reminiscent of demons from Oblivion.

For a moment they stood, silent and still as the world seemed to hold it's breath.

"You're a long way from home, old man."

One of them spoke, his voice booming and terrible.

"I have no quarrel with you."

Taric retorted, his voice low and discontented. Snickering and low chuckles responded from the mob, the wizard clutched his staff tightly with both hands, holding it close to his fragile frame.

"We keep this road, codger!"

Behind his back, Taric readied an ice spike; frost formed along the pale flesh of his palm.

"And you shall--"

With a flick of his wrist, a blue blade rocketed through the air and connected with the bandit. His head snapped back as crimson sprayed. The two others watched, stunned as their leader sunk to his knees before crumpling to the road. The corpse's head lolled back, revealing a shard of bloodied ice jutting from his skull, just above the eye.

The remaining bandits looked on for a moment longer, standing completely still. They looked up for an instant at Taric, before reeling and sprinting off at full speed into the mist. The old wizard shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh as the frost left his hand, and he continued on his way.

 

[White_Memories]

Elanin looked around with a critical eye, noticing that no expense seemed to have been paid in this venture. She appeared to have gotten there ahead of anyone and the sun had just been setting when she stepped foot in the forest. Darkness had since descended and milky eyes landed on the lone figure she spotted.

Without thinking about the fact she might have appeared rude, Elanin walked forward with confidence and blinked down at the person. There was a moment where she judged this person, man or mer she couldn't care for, to see if he was someone worth following behind. Something about him stood out and a small smirk crossed over her visage while she crossed her arms.

"I'm here for the expedition into the Deep Dark," she stated, one brow raising. "Are you the one in charge here? Or do ya know where I can find whoever is leading the expedition?"

Whether he said yes or no would change little in the Altmer's mind. Elanin had set her sights on going into the Deep Dark and she would go regardless of having others with her. Dying wouldn't matter to her either. Sometimes, one had to put their very life on the line for the pursuit of discovery. It was a small fact that Elanin saw as a part of life, setting her apart from many other mages.

 

[Kir the Silent]

Kir looked up as a woman, an Altmer interesting enough, approached him. She radiated confidence and a type of surety. She quickly questioned him if he was the one in charge or at least could point her in the right direction. The Bosmer closed the ancient tome, stood up, and looked into her eyes without saying a word. His face was still hidden in his hood, shadows concealing his face from her eyes while he was able to see her. He studied her intently, he had a unique ability and was using it now. He smiled coyly as he finished and said, "You have an exceptional soul. Strong willed, confidence with just the right amount of cocky."

"I suppose it wouldn't matter if I told you it wouldn't be possible for you to join this expedition it wouldn't matter to you. You would just follow us or go it alone. Not that I'd recommend it, as I'm the only one that knows how to get to the fabled Deep Dark. A land many don't believe even exists." Kir shrugged his shoulders and continued. "But to answer your question, yes. I am in charge."

Standing in black leather armor lined with wolf's fur and with a hood of black silk. He looked more like an assassin, which he was, than the rich benefactor of an expedition. Which he also was. Many couldn't tell, but he came from a very wealthy family. He just didn't flaunt the wealth to others or on frivolous things. He didn't care for the games of nobility and the wealthy. He held out a hand, "I am Kir Nylik. Pleased to meet you."

 

[Valin Oakthorn]

Valin gathered himself, the camp was somewhere nearby, yet the ranger knew nothing of it's location. Pulling down the face mask of his hood, quite a few more scents were readily available to him. Valin took off into the forest, the city was no place for a camp of this sort, and would only could his senses. Before he knew it, Valin was trapped in a mixture of fog and trees, leaving his sight worthless. The ranger nealed to the ground, he placed his hands in the soft, moist grass. He closed his eyes.

"Use your senses, Valin. All of them." Valin commanded, himself.

Relaxing his spine, he took deep breaths, the smell of a fire, and many different people rushed into his nose. The sound of a campfire crackling, was not enough however. There were sure to be many hunters in this area. Valin tried again, when it hit him. The smell of dwemer oil, coming from the same area. Standing up, Valin heard a few voices, Bosmer and Altmer. The ranger took off towards this location. The fog was hard for him to stand. He jumped into a nearby tree, to no avail. Continuing on, the sound of the rangers feet made the distinctive sound that Valin knew by heart. Pit, Pat, Pit, Put, Pit, Pat, Pit, Put.

Valin stopped, there was a clearing. He was never a fan of clearings, but it seemed every adventurer setting up a camp was. He climbed his current tree, hoping for answers. His hands reaching for the next branch, as his feet instinctively, found notches to push him further up. Climbing out on a limb facing the clearing, He saw the location of the two voices he had heard earlier.

The ranger, dove out of the tree, landing into a roll which absorbed the impact. The soil in the reach was always quite soft, it was easy on Valin's knees. He approached the two, and waited his turn to speak with who appeared to be the leader of this endeavor. There was a way about him, something that all leaders had. Crouching down, Valin pulled out his pipe, fire salts worked surprisingly well in calming his nerves without giving him any addictions.

He looked around, a wizard had caught his eye. The man seemed a rather interesting one to be going on this journey.

 

[Delusional]

"Hi!"

The voice in Marcus' ear startled him, to say the least. As soon as the friendly word was spoken, the young Imperial did not hesitate to swiftly unsheathe his Dwarven shortsword and turn sharply to his right, when he found himself staring into a younger boy's soft eyes. The kid was clad in mage robes; standing there with a silly grin painted across his face.

Marcus, somewhat angry that this boy had decided to play a 'funny' game on the Imperial, had no control over his actions as he raised his sword and held it to the mage's throat, backing him up against the bright white trunk of a nearby birch tree. The smile of amusement on the kid's face had quickly morphed into an expression of surprise, even fear.

"Funny, huh? Yeah, that was pretty funny. And also pretty damn stupid," Marcus growled, the anger and shock still coursing through his veins, taking hold of his actions and controlling the Imperial. "Had I not been able to control myself, you would have been run through half a dozen times with this sword. You don't sneak up on someone like that, got it?"

The fear shone through the boy's eyes as he stood there, pinned to a tree by a gleaming brass sword. Oh come on Marcus, control yourself. He is just a damn kid.

The Imperial sighed deeply and relaxed his tense body, lowering the sword from the kid's neck. He slipped it back into its sheath lazily and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

"All right kid, what do you want?"

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

The Imperial seemed to jump a bit as Eldric revealed himself. He was pleased he had gotten a reaction, unfortunately, it was a bit more extreme than he had intended. Almost instantly, the man drew a shortsword, Dwemer, by the look of it, and held it up to the hapless mage's throat; a look of anger on his face.

"Funny, huh? Yeah, that was pretty funny. And also pretty damn stupid," The Imperial hissed, his voice halfway between a roar and a whisper. Or a growl. Growl sounds better, Eldric thought. He decided to call it a growl. "Had I not been able to control myself, you would have been run through half a dozen times with this sword. You don't sneak up on someone like that, got it?"

Eldric began to look scared. Had the man intended to attack him, he likely would have had time to freeze his arm; but a blade pressed against your throat was enough to make anyone nervous. The Imperial noticed the young sorcerer's change in expression, and, with a look of pity, withdrew his sword and sheathed it one more. Eldric's would be killer ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.

"All right kid, what do you want?" He said, with a sigh.

"Well, I received notice of an expedition out here," Eldric said, dusting off his robes. It was a habit he had picked up from his old master. "Sadly, I lost my way in this forest. I saw you sneaking about, figured I'd tail you for a while. It appears I was right to do it." He nodded towards the campsite.

"Once we were here, I decided to have some fun. Play a little practical joke. As you just ensured, it didn't work as well as I had intended." His eyes darted down to the man's blade, still hanging off his belt. If this Imperial attacked again, Eldric was confident that he could delay him long enough to escape. Still, best to keep him talking. He seemed friendly enough, just...on edge.

"So, what brings you to this expedition? And what in Oblivion possessed you to sneak around like a bandit?" Eldric stood silent for a moment, realizing what he had just said. "...It was bandits, wasn't it?"

 

[Mr.Self Destruct]

Taric continued his journey, less than pleased by his lack of progress. He had expected to reach the camp by dusk, yet the hour has fallen late and he still hasn't reached his destination. The twin moons hung low from the sky, a veil of stars and auroras which offered some light; enough for the wizard to see where he was going. Yet the dark shadows and encroaching trees unmanned him to a degree, though he was confident that his powers could protect him, Taric hoped that any altercation could be avoided.

He sighed in relief as he came to the top of a small hill where the road led; and in the distance, through the silhouettes of trees and foliage, the lights of camp were visible. He continued on his way at a faster pace, eager to rest. The sounds of men working, mumbled conversations and occasional banter filled the air as he drew nearer.

The camp was large, much larger than the modest sage had expected. Burly and strong men carried tools and supplies back and forth, resources were still being wheeled in by horse and wagon, torches lit up the fenced camp site, and much to Taric's surprise armed sentries patrolled the area. There must have been around a hundred men, working, eating, talking, preparing for the expedition. Taric strolled through the open gate, pulling the flier from his pocket.

"You there!"

Taric reeled around, a sentry was staring right at him. The man made his way through a small envoy of workers to approach Taric, he stepped from the crowd, revealing himself to be quite brawny and muscular. Padded leather was fit around his torso, chainmail covered his arms and led to plate gauntlets. Clearly, no expense had been spared when it came to the expedition's security.

"You looking for Kir?"

"Kir?" Taric replied, his eyebrow raising.

"He sent out the fliers, you'll want to talk to him."

The guard gestured to the far side of the camp, then returned to his duties. There, along a small group of people who Taric guessed had also found the fliers, sat a hooded man garbed in black cloth and leather. Taric approached, having to admit he was a bit taken off by the man's appearance. He had assumed the expedition's lead prospector would've been an old, wrinkly robed man like himself.

"You must be Kir." Taric said as he stepped forward, his hands clutching his staff.

 

[Delusional]

"Well, I received notice of an expedition out here," the boy said, dusting off his robes. Marcus turned to look at the young Nord. "Sadly, I lost my way in this forest. I saw you sneaking about, figured I'd tail you for a while. It appears I was right to do it." The kid nodded towards a camp not very far from where the two were standing. Marcus was astonished that he had not noticed the sprawling camp, glowing with light. How could I have missed that? It's as bright as the damn sun...

"Once we were here, I decided to have some fun. Play a little practical joke. As you just ensured, it didn't work as well as I had intended," The mage continued; Marcus noticed him eying his sheathed sword nervously. He seems on edge... I shouldn't have lost my temper, he can't be older than 20.

"So, what brings you to this expedition? And what in Oblivion possessed you to sneak around like a bandit?" The young Nord paused, and an expression of realization crossed his face. "...It was bandits, wasn't it?"

Marcus sighed once again before answering the mage. "Yes, there were bandits. I was camped out up there..." Marcus pointed up past the dense canopy of birch trees to a colossal mountain with a scarred hand, ridges protruding from the steep stone facet. After several seconds, the Imperial coughed, and continued. "...and I was woken by a noise. Still don't know what it was. I packed up quickly and made my way down the mountain, but not before encountering bandits."

The young Imperial began to pace back and forth slowly, rubbing his eyes, trying to drive the fatigue from his body. "I managed to slip past them, but I took no chances; I got as far away as possible, until I stumbled upon this clearing. You know what happened next." Marcus quit pacing and turned to face the boy. He gazed into his eyes quizzically, intrigued by the mention of 'expedition'.

"What is this expedition you speak of?" The Imperial reached a hand up to scratch his rough face. "Also, what is your name, boy?"

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

"What is this expedition you speak of? Also, what is your name, boy?"

Eldric grinned, pleased that this man had given him a chance to try out his latest trick. He held his hands up, and concentrated hard, focusing his magicka into two small blue orbs, one in the palm of each hand. He moved his hands downward, letting the orbs fly into the ground below.

With a flurry of snow, a column of ice, around five feet tall, grew out of the ground under Eldric's feet, elevating him above his Imperial acquaintance. "I am Eldric of the Skaal. The greatest frost mage of our age..." Eldric felt something shift under his feet. That couldn't be good. There was a creak, and the column disappeared in a second burst of snow, leaving the young mage lying on the ground.

"...Well, training to be, anyway," he said, picking himself up off the ground. "As for the expedition, I thought you knew already. You look the treasure hunting type. We're going to a place called the Deep Dark. Ancient ruin, tied to every culture from the Dwemer to the Falmer. If you need any details about what's down there, read this." Eldric reached into his satchel, withdrawing the pamphlet that had led him to the camp.

As the Imperial read through the notice, Eldric spoke again. "So, what's your name, exactly? It may be a forgotten custom, but I like to know someone's name after they shove a blade in my face."

 

[Delusional]

The young, and evidently aspiring, mage was certainly a character. Marcus smirked as he used frost magic to construct a pillar of ice, that ultimately came tumbling down. Reminiscent of myself, at a younger age, a more lively age... Marcus' thoughts trailed off; he regretted even the vaguest thought of his father and what may have become of him.

The boy, who Marcus now knew as Eldric of the Skaal, briefly explained the expedition he was headed to and handed the Imperial a yellowed parchment. Deep Dark... Ancient ruin... Dwemer, Falmer... what if... no, it couldn't be...

"So, what's your name, exactly? It may be a forgotten custom, but I like to know someone's name after they shove a blade in my face." The boy Eldric interrupted the Imperial's thoughts with a humorous remark. I like him, Marcus thought with a smile.

"My name is Marcus Paxillus, and I am but a simple adventurer and treasure hunter, who wastes his life away delving into cryptic ruins, searching for valuables." Marcus chuckled and looked up from the paper notice into Eldric's eyes. The Imperial tried to mask his sorrow, and continued. "Alas, I have no fancy tricks to show. I have only a sad story and a meager life." His gaze drifted from the young mage, briefly lost in his past. He soon snapped back and smiled.

"No matter, though. I might as well embark on this expedition with you, hm? I have been searching for a ruin to delve into as of late, and I suppose this works just fine. Come, Eldric of the Skaal." Marcus turned towards the bustling camp, smile still plastered across his face, and began briskly walking.

 

[Gentleman Adventurer]

"My name is Marcus Paxillus, and I am but a simple adventurer and treasure hunter, who wastes his life away delving into cryptic ruins, searching for valuables."

Eldric nearly groaned. He had nothing against treasure hunters, but the ones he had encountered before were generally not the most pleasant company when delving into ancient ruins. Still, this one seemed to be polite, at least. As long as that shortsword was kept away from him, Eldric figured he'd get along with this Marcus fellow just fine.

"Alas, I have no fancy tricks to show. I have only a sad story and a meager life." Marcus looked away, his attention seemingly captured by some nonexistent memory. Just before Eldric was about to ask if he was alright, the treasure hunter turned his gaze back to the Nord, smiling once more. "No matter, though. I might as well embark on this expedition with you, hm? I have been searching for a ruin to delve into as of late, and I suppose this works just fine. Come, Eldric of the Skaal."

Marcus set off, walking at a fast pace towards the large campsite that lay before them. Eldric ran to catch up. "Actually, it's just Eldric! The title's for introduction only, you really don't have to- Ah, who cares." He caught up with his new companion, and together they walked to a large gate that surrounded the camp. A sentry spotted them, and called down.

"Greetings, travelers! You here for the expedition?"