Okay, the chick-writing is over, time for some manly killing. This should keep all you guys out there from flat-lining from too much estrogen...
This will be a long one, but I do not see a good place where I can break it up without losing the impact of the scene.
* * *
Chapter 5 - Fort MagiaTeresa slowly waded through the knee-deep water within the bowels of Fort Magia, trying as best she could not to make any splashes or waves. Thanks to the goggles she wore the world around her was reduced to a dull grey, with only a few muted colors standing out. Yet without the Night Eye power it conferred she would not be able to see a thing in the inky darkness through which she tread.
The goggles revealed for her a corridor that was cut from large, square blocks of stone, turning to end in a massive set of double-doors. Built to withstand a siege, they were bound in iron and made of wood which Volsinius had told her was enchanted to resist fire, frost, and even aging.
Those old Imperials really built these forts to last, Teresa thought as she stepped up to the portal. She wondered if it had been built during the war with the Ayleids? or sometime after that? Whatever threats it had been built to defend against had long since passed however, because as most of the forts she had found in Cyrodiil, it had been plainly abandoned for a long time.
Abandoned by the Imperial Legion at least, she thought. There always seemed to be bandits or goblins in places like this now. The residents of this fort had been dead, yet that had only made them more dangerous. Looking down at the shattered human bones under the water at her feet, she cautiously poked the remains with the toe of her boot to make sure they no longer moved of their own accord.
She had only faced undead once before, at Vilverin, and not many of them even then. Seeing that first skeleton in the upper halls of the fort had really done wonders for her heart, Teresa thought. Thankfully it and its other undead cousins did not seem to be aware of things very far from them. They no longer had eyes, so they must not be able to see her, she reasoned, likewise with their other faculties. Just how they did sense things she had no idea.
After she had put an arrow through its briastbone it had certainly noticed her, Teresa thought as she stared down at the bones strewn about her feet. Thankfully she had been able to kill it with two more arrows before it could reach her. Nobody moved very fast in knee-deep water after all. She had been forced to backpedal to escape from the other skeletons she had encountered in the drier regions of the fort overhead, so she was glad for the flooding.
Once more she silently thanked Aelwin for his gift of the Jewel of the Rumare, thinking of the turquoise ring hidden under the gauntlet on her left hand. Without its protective magic her bow would have been useless after swimming through the corridors that had been completely flooded by the nearby lake. Not to mention the damage it would have done to her leather armor. Instead her bow stave, string, and arrows were completely dry and sound, even the parts still submerged, as was the rest of her.
Teresa gently pushed at the door and found it swinging open with a creaking of wood and metal. Well, at least it was not locked, she thought. She had probably picked more locks in this fort than Methredhel usually did in a week! She had never imagined that growing up on the streets would provide her with such valuable skills, yet the more time she spent in old ruins like this one, the more she saw how useful being able to sneak and pick locks was for someone in her new line of work.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion214.jpg
She found another corridor spreading out before her, branching out into more passageways to the right and left after a short distance. Regularly spaced alongside the walls of each corridor were rectangular blocks that rose from the floor and supported ornately carved stone coffins. Cobwebs stretched from the corners in the ceilings, and there was not a single light or sound emanating from the area.
Great, Teresa thought, I found the tomb. Just where she wanted to be in a ruin already filled with undead.
She moved slowly and carefully down the corridor and paused at the intersection to peer around the corners. The side passages were empty and silent in either direction, and each ended after a short distance. Teresa continued forward alongside the coffins, hoping that their residents would remain in their stony homes.
She came across a longbow floating in the water, its bowstring long since snapped. It did not look as old as the rest of the ruin, but the stave had long since warped from the moisture. Moments later she came upon the bones of an arm and hand lying on the floor further along the hallway, and wondered if they had belonged to the bow's former owner as she continued down the hallway.
A dim light spilled into the corridor from around a corner at its far end, and Teresa drew an arrow from her quiver and set it to the nock. A moment later the author of that light floated into the hall, and Teresa felt her heart quicken its pace within her briast.
It was a glowing, humanoid form, missing its body from the waist down. A haze of what seemed to be mist clung to its form like a grim halo. Its face was smooth and nearly featureless, yet it did have eyes, or at least darker regions where eyes would be, and they set directly upon Teresa. Its mouth opened in what might have been a warning, or a battlecry, yet no sound came forth.
It was a ghost, she thought, what else could it be? Raising her bow and drawing back the arrow to her ear, she steeled herself to take her time and focus on the center of its body while she let half the air ease from her lungs. Only then did she loose, and immediately reach for another arrow as she kept her eyes locked upon the monster.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion216.jpg
Teresa's heart sank when she saw the steel head of her arrow pass harmlessly through the body of the ghost and emerge from the other side. A second later it struck the stone wall at the end of the corridor and snapped in two. The ghost itself did not seem to notice, but it did begin to float down the corridor toward her, arms reaching out greedily for her flesh.
Teresa took a step back as she drew forth another arrow and fired. Again it had no effect as it passed through the ghost, which was drawing closer and closer with every breath. What in Nirn was she supposed to do against that! she thought in growing horror, her arrows were useless!
The ghost drew its arms back for a moment, and a brighter point of light formed between its fingers. Then it threw both hands forward as if pushing something, and that bright spot of light came rushing out. Teresa reflexively ducked down into the water as the ball of energy shot past above, and she felt a chill pass over her as it did so.
She rose from the water, and knew that the moisture she felt on her brow and in her palms was not from the waves, but from her own sweat. She had to do something, she thought, or she would not live to see the light of another day.
That is when she thought of her Flare spell. The image of it sprang immediately into her mind, and focusing on that picture she gathered her magicka within her. She threw one hand out in front of her, willing the energy to pour from her fingers and erupt into a small ball of flame that instantly flew down the corridor and sank directly into the glowing form of the specter.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion218.jpg
Its unearthly body seemed to dissolve around the flame, as if turning to steam. But the fist-sized ball of fire did not consume the entire ghost, only a small portion of it. Still, it reared back for a moment and she saw its mouth open wide in what she imagined was pain. Then it threw both hands forward again and another of those balls of light came shooting down the hallway.
Teresa leaped aside as the energy came streaking at her. The water flowed around her legs as if it was not there, and once again she was thankful for the Jewel of the Rumare and it wondrous abilities. She breathed a sigh of relief as the sparkling white ball flew by her with a whooshing sound, and realized it was not made of light, but frost. For even though it had missed her by inches, she still felt the cold of winter sweep through the side of her body
Teresa continued to back down the hallway in the direction from which she had come. Magic was not her strongest field, she knew, it was only something she used when she did not have her bow. A real battlemage would probably make short work of a ghost like this, but she was not a real mage, let alone a battlemage. She could feel much of the magicka within her already drained away from just that one ball of fire she had hurled at the monster. Would she have enough to kill it?
Her heel caught on something even as she focused another ball of fire upon the ghost, and she felt herself falling backward. Her flare went flying into the ceiling as her arms reflexively shot out to try to keep her balance. The next thing Teresa knew her back was hitting the water, and a moment later the cold liquid flowed around her face.
Holding her breath for a moment, she tried to sit up in the water and pull herself backward at the same time. Her head shot up above the waves in time to see a glowing hand with inhumanly long and slender fingers reaching down for her.
Out of reflex she threw up her left arm, still holding her longbow. The spectral claws of the ghost passed through her bow stave as if it was not there. Then it was tearing into her arm like icy razors. She could not contain the scream that ripped from her lips as the bow fell from her numb fingers. It was so cold, it felt as if her very bones had frozen.
She fell back into the water again, and was barely able to close her mouth before it washed across her face. She could see the bright form of the ghost above her reaching down again and rolled aside. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of its claws flowing through the stones of the floor where she had been moments before.
That is when she remembered that thanks to her ring, she could breathe water as well as move freely within it. Taking a deep breath, her lungs filled with welcome air rather than liquid. Raising her good arm above the waves, she focused on her spell and once more sent a ball of fire into the body of the ghost.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion222.jpg
It reeled away with another silent cry, giving Teresa time to rise to a squatting position. That is when she saw what she had tripped on. It was the same skeletal arm that she had passed by before seeing the ghost. By the Nine that was stupid of her! she screamed inwardly, to be nearly killed over such a thing!
The ghost was now coming back, and Teresa tried to muster up another Flare. Yet the magicka was not there when she reached for it, and she was forced to hastily draw her arm back as the ghost reached out greedily for her flesh.
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion220.jpg
She scrambled to her feet and ran down the hall the way she had come, water splashing loudly with every step. Her vision blurred from droplets of water on her goggles. But she knew that if she pulled them off she would not be able to see a thing in the sunless bowels of the fort. Her arm ached with cold, and hung limply at her side. When she glanced down at it she was surprised to see that the leather of her sleeve was unblemished.
Nothing physical seemed to be able to impede the ghost, she thought. Well, no surprise there, it was a ghost after all. She needed time to regain her magicka, she knew, if it caught up to her before then she was dead. That is when she remembered the potions she had found in the upper chambers. Some of them had looked like sorcery draughts?
Glancing back down the corridor, she saw the ghost hurl another of those balls of frost. With a little more space between it and her, she had little difficulty in stepping out of its path. Then she turned once more and darted through the doors which she had entered through just minutes before. This time she was careful not to trip on the dead skeleton in the corridor beyond, and raced around the corner and down the hall. She knew the ghost was still after her, but at least the door and stone walls would probably block its frost bolts.
Stopping and turning once more to face down the hall, she dug through her belt pouches with her good hand. She came upon one of her self-made healing potions and quickly drew it forth. Pulling out its cork with her teeth, she gulped its contents as quickly as she could and dropped the empty vial into the water.
Instantly her left arm warmed, and suddenly she could move the fingers of that hand again. It still ached with cold, but it was not the bone-freezing sensation that made her want to scream anymore. She was never so thankful that she had learned the art of alchemy as she was in that moment, and hastily dug for more potions.
She drew forth another bottle a moment later. It had a different shape than her own, so she knew it was one she had found in the fort. Peering closely at its side, she saw the spiral symbol of magicka was engraved upon it surface. Yes! she thought with exultation. She pulled forth its stopper with shaking fingers and emptied the liquid into her mouth.
She instantly felt the magicka rise up within her like a bubbling pot. The ghost came around the corner ahead of her, and she focused her mind on her Flare. Pointing her hand at it, she flung a bolt of fire down the corridor and directly into it. The creature recoiled again, then once more continued forward. It threw a ball of frost at her in return, and again Teresa dodged aside with ease.
It was a good thing those energy blasts were not as fast as arrows, she thought. Otherwise there would be almost no getting out of their way. She was just lucky that the ghost did not dodge her own shots, or she would never stand a chance. She thanked the Nine that the undead had no sense of self-preservation, at least not these ones.
She traded more balls of destructive magic with the ghost until finally it threw its arms up in the air and seemed to melt. The last she saw of it was its mouth open in a wide rictus of what looked like pain. Then its bright form winked out completely, and all that remained was a faintly glowing goo that floated on the surface of the water.
Teresa shuddered, and found herself falling to her knees in the flooded corridor. In spite of the potion of sorcery she had just drank, she could feel that the magicka within her was completely expended again. Her arm was still freezing cold, and her heart pounded like mad within her chest.
Nocturnal! she thought, she had nearly been killed! If it were not for that sorcery potion she was not sure what might have happened.
She had tripped on a damn bone! she thought. To think that she nearly died over something so simple and inconsequential. Is this how other fighters died? she wondered, over trivial little things like a bone laying in the hallway?
She needed to pay more attention to what she was doing, Teresa thought. She had to stop being sloppy like that, sloppy and unprepared. That or she had to quit this business - what did they call it - dungeon diving? and go back to just harvesting plants in the forest.
There was supposed to be money in this dungeon diving though, that is what everyone said. Umbacano was going to pay her a lot of gold if she could find his statues for him too. She had thought that exploring the forts would prepare her for the Ayleid sites, as they were said to be more dangerous. But if she could not handle this, how could she get the statues?
But she needed that money if she was ever going to buy Simplicia's house, and she needed it fast. Every moment she wasted was another moment the old woman's dream went unfulfilled, and at Simplicia's age, she did not have many moments left...
With that thought Teresa hunted for another healing potion and greedily downed its contents. Her arm felt much better afterward, with only the memory of the cold still lingering within its flesh. She was going to have to start organizing the potions she carried by placing them in different pouches on her belt, she thought. One would be for healing, another for magicka, perhaps a third for shield potions.
Damn! she thought, she should have drank a shield potion when she had seen the ghost! That might have protected her from its claws at least. She wanted to slap her palm to her face in disgust.
She no longer tried to be quiet as she moved back down the corridor. If anything else was back here, she knew that her screams and splashing had long since told it where she was. Coming upon the softly glowing liquid that had been the ghost, Teresa took one of her empty potion bottles and carefully scooped it up. This would be worth a lot of Septims, she thought, for unlike many other alchemical ingredients, ectoplasm did not grow on trees.
After pausing to dry her goggles, she continued back into the tomb and found her longbow. Without her ring to protect it from the water, its flaxen string was already soaked and stretched out to the point of uselessness. She only hoped that the stave was waxed well-enough to prevent it from warping, otherwise she would be in big trouble.
Pulling the ruined string from the bow and casting it aside, she drew forth a spare from her belt and fixed it to both nocks. Looking over the strung bow, it appeared sound to her. She raised it and pulled the new string back to her ear, dreading the sound of a crack or feeling it pull to one side or another. Yet the stave flexed smoothly and straightly, and held firm as she maintained her draw. Satisfied that it was still good, she gently eased back on the string until it was at rest.
Then she continued down the coffin-lined hallway. She briefly thought about opening them to see what might be inside. Burying valuables like jewelry and even weapons with the dead was not at all uncommon, she knew. But remembering the ghost and the skeletons she had encountered made her change her mind. The owners might not stay still once she opened those lids, she thought. Besides, the idea of taking loot from buried corpses just seemed wrong somehow.
She knew Methredhel would laugh at that. It was not like the dead had someplace to spend it, she would say. But then Methredhel would never be here in the first place, Teresa thought. Dungeon diving was far from her idea of a good time on an afternoon. She was probably still asleep after a long night of pilfering the homes of wealthy Imperials!
The thought gave Teresa a faint smile as she reached the end of the tomb and found another pair of huge doors. These were locked, but the bolts were on her side this time, so she had little difficulty in throwing them open and pulling one of the doors aside.
Beyond the doors she found a large chamber that might have been a storeroom, given all the broken wood floating through it. A single, normal-sized door lay in the wall across from her, and near one wall she found a wine rack.
Peering through its contents, she found that most of the bottles were broken. However, she found two at the top that were still dry and intact. Pulling them down one at a time, she dusted them off and felt her heart leap at what she saw printed on the labels.
'Shadowbanish', was the single word written across each in an elegant, flowing script. Another faint smile crept to Teresa's lips as she thought about the person who had asked her to look for Shadowbanish Wine.
Nerussa, she thought, it looks like I am coming to visit!
* * *
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion212.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion213.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion215.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion217.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion219.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion221.jpg
http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v90/subrosa_florens/oblivion/Oblivion223.jpg
» Fri May 13, 2011 9:00 am 
The ending of this one still makes me cry too, even after all the edits I have done to it. 
I honestly do think this is the best writing I have done so far. 
