From: (Anonymous)
Deeper and deeper he delved, where the warmth and moisture was suffocating, and soon, a familiar, foul stench permeated the air. He lifted his cowl over his mouth and nose, and sheathed the dagger; if there would be Falmer ahead, he’d rather go unnoticed. The sound of them was wretched: flat footsteps – the sound of bare skin against stone; their ragged gasps for breath, as if they were drowning in the dark corners of the world. Audric resolved to wash his boots when this was all over.

One of the reasons he so despised these ruins was that he always lost time down there; without the sun and without any measure of passing time besides his own discombobulated hunger and drowsiness, he had no way of knowing when an hour had passed, or several, or an entire day. It was disorienting and it put him on edge. But with patience and stealth, even the ruins of Alftand gave way. An immense stone tower rose above a crumbling staircase, overlooking a quiet, decaying alcove. A handful of Falmer patrolled the ground, but in their beastly stupor, they tread the same paths over and over and over again. Picking his way along a wall, Audric avoided the lookouts. Prideful at his skill, he took a congratulatory moment in the alcove to sneer down at the creatures below him...but the screech of rusted metal awakening spurred him back into motion. A Centurion removed itself from its decorative arches, and began searching for the source of the disturbance, but Audric, heart in his throat, kept to the shadows. Back against the wall, he almost tripped over himself to find shelter.

Another chamber was carved into the stone, and in it were two people. Audric remained unseen and watched, still keeping an ear on the clanking atrocity just outside. The two – an Imperial and a Redguard – were arguing, something about glory and abandonment, and Blackreach. Audric had waited long enough, though, and was getting increasingly worried about the Centurion, so he sprang for the lift behind the arguing couple. They tried to catch him mid-flight, surprised by the small, uninvited Breton.

“I’m very sorry!” he hollered before Shouting them off, knocking them back into the stone. And just as he yanked the lever on the lift, the Centurion came back into view. “I’m so, so sorry,” he said again, a solemn murmur.

But the lift took him up, not down, and he found himself above ground, outside an empty camp. The sun was midway through the sky, and as he realized how much time had gone by, exhaustion overtook him, and he crawled under some furs in a weatherworn tent, and curled into sleep.

* * *


When he woke, he could not guess the time, for it was dark, and the sky was obscured by clouds. With no way of telling where he was, he was resigned to getting back into the lift, and
dealing with whatever waited for him at the bottom. He rummaged through the abandoned packs and found some bread. His stomach growled angrily but he ignored it to the best of his abilities.

The descent down felt quicker than when he’d come up.

The chamber was devoid of life, now. The body of the Imperial lay strewn, broken and bloody on the floor; the Redguard woman was nowhere to be seen, and Audric hoped she had escaped. Beyond, he could still hear the heavy footsteps of the enormous automaton, but only occasionally. Slumping against the wall, he gazed around, tired and frustrated. There was no other lift, and this one only went up.

There was, though, something glimmering in the dark that caught his attention: at the center of the room, nestled into the stone, there was a decidedly sphere-shaped hollow. Moving through the dark, careful as could be, Audric approached, drawing the tuning sphere from a pocket. The small thing fit like a key inside of a lock, and quite suddenly, the floor gave way to a spiraling set of stairs, and Audric descended.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

If you are unable to use this captcha for any reason, please contact us by email at support@dreamwidth.org

Profile

skyrimkinkmeme: (Default)
skyrimkinkmeme

July 2015

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
1213141516 1718
19202122232425
262728293031 

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 24th, 2025 05:10 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios