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“Wait wait, keep listening! ..my nights have been almost impossible to bear without you! To lose you would be the death of me, my love!” The sound of wicked laughter came from just beyond the wall, the Dragonborn and his lightfooted companion sneaking down into a cellar of a burnt down house.
“Was he the one we found in the tunnel?” a Reaver asked, oblivious to the approach of the intruders. Chac listened in on the conversation, taking in everything with an arrow knocked and ready to fire.
“Who knows, all Nords look the same to me.”
“Disgusting, is what they are.”
Chac’s eyes locked in on the Reaver’s back, and from the shadows he unleashed his silent fury. The arrow buried itself entirely through the Dunmer’s chest, Teldryn behind him and following suit with a killing shot to the other while he stood in alarm. Like professionals, the foe was dealt with before it could even become a threat.
“What in the Gods name happened here?” Chac asks, walking in with the other, the Dunmer’s mohawk close to hitting the ceiling in the cramped basement. There where jewels and books scattered beside the fire, on the table a bloodstained note lay just begging to be read. As Chac read each line, he stumbles into a disheartening story…
“What does it say?” Teldryn asked, pocketing the finest of the gems, still in awe of the disarray. It looked as if a madman lived here, and a strange thumping traveled through the ground and made him anxious. Why was that?
“It’s nothing, I’m just confused..” Chac’s eyes caught the way ash billowed from a portion of the wall beyond them, and it wasn’t long before the curious elves found a tunnel that was dug out of the rock, the thrum of noise growing louder from below.
“This looks like his journal,” Chac reached over and picked up a small leather-bound journal on the ground beside the tunnel entrance. Opening it revealed the home to belong a man named Hrodulf. “Give me a second, here.” They traded papers and soon Teldryn was deep into the heart-wrenching letter.
“Maybe this can tell us what’s down there before we explore..”
Chac had his nose into the journal and read of it’s owner grown mad, by whatever came from below.. but what caught his attention was his mention of a lover, in Solitude, the author of that letter. A creeping feeling entered the elf’s heart as he read on “Looks like whatever that noise is drove him mad. Still want to go down?”
“Of course,” Teldryn was always happy to explore a mystery “Let me get a torch going, first.”
He and Chac descended the narrow passage, the Bosmer’s back nearly pressed against Teldryn’s chest and their hearts pounding with uncertainty. They whispered to each other as the passage opened up into a dark hall, steam clinging to the air and now the sight of Dwemer machinations pumping endlessly now almost deafening in their ears.
“Dwemer ruins this far West? Fascinating..” Teldryn commented, but Chac had his eyes locked on something that nearly scared him stiff, tripping over the body of a dead man. Immediately he remembered the conversation he heard upon coming in, and now that Teldryn hovered his flame over the body, it became clear this was the Nord they had freshly killed.
“Do you think this is him?”
“..There’s only one way to find out.” Chac leaned over and rolled over the body, showing the corpse to be that of a homely-looking Nord. He was dead from a slash to the neck, but it was the torn letter he found in his jacket that struck him most.
“Do not come to this place. I have not much self left. The earth will take us both. -h”
“It’s not him. This must be Bjornolfr. The man from Solitude.” It was starting to make sense to Chac, the poet inside him growing flustered as he read the note aloud. Teldryn seemed more at a loss, concentrating on the blaring noise of the Dwemer workings. This sound alone would drive anyone crazy; it was no wonder. They where both put off at the fact that there was nothing worth exploring down here..just a strange machine and a dead man.
“Let’s get out of here. This place makes me uneasy..” Chac led the Dunmer up and out, coming back to the sight of the dead Reavers by the fire. “Bastards must have killed him when he came looking.” Teldryn cocked an eyebrow at him, feeling like he’s missing something here. Chac always did go off on these strange tangents that would confuse him at the worst times.
“A shame. Let’s go.” Teldryn wasn’t one to beat around the bush when he didn’t like something, and soon they where on their way out. Coming back to the open sky and ashen surface felt relieving, but Chac had his mind on other things. Teldryn merely followed as they made their way down to the shore.
“Look out!”
From between the ashen trees a bolt of light could be seen coming right towards them- Fire careened across Chac’s armor and the two elves dove out of the way as their unseen assailant came closer. The Dunmer wasted no time in summoning an atronach, the fiery nymph creating the perfect distraction as he helped his patron back onto his feet. The culprit was now clear; a massive spriggan that raced towards them along the coastline.
The fight only lasted as long as it took his atronach to set the beast aflame, and the two elves watched with waning excitement as it took off, burning to cinders on the way down. The scream it let out as it died made Chac’s heart even more tense. “I don’t like killing them, but sometimes there’s just no other choice.” He inspected the burn on his armor with passing care, his Bosmer eyes finding something strange on the shore.
“Look, there’s another dead body.” Teldryn followed him and merely observed, there was a nearly nude corpse with half of his body in the water. Beside him was a simple rowboat and locked chest. The gears in Chac’s head started to turn as he inspected the Nord, how disheveled he looked.
“This has to be Hrodulf, The one who dug that tunnel.” And the man who wrote the tattered note they found on that other body. Chac’s brow furrowed in realization, soon ankle deep in the waves to inspect the boat.
“He certainly looks crazy.” Teldryn commented, tapping the side of the locked box with his heel; he’d leave the picking to his patron. “What do you think could be in here?”
Chac seemingly ignored him, climbing halfway onto the boat with the twinkle of something in his eye. He reached for the amulet of Mara and a large diamond ring “Look, oh no.” The poet inside Chac felt a painful twinge when he pieced it all together.
“Teldryn, he was going to propose…” Teldryn cocked his eyebrow and crossed his arms, seeing how his patron looked miserable. “There’s something I need to do.. Just stay right here until I come back.” Chac doubled back and started walking up the hill back towards Hrodulf’s house, leaving Teldryn behind.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” he drawled, but Chac didn’t answer. Soon the elf was climbing down the ladder and into the heavy air of the Dwemer ruins; his heart was set on something that Teldryn didn’t understand. Teldryn merely paced on the shoreline, eyes alternating between the dead Nord and his house.
When the artist returned, he was surprised to see the first Nord’s corpse slung across his shoulders, Chac’s heels falling into ash as if it where snow. Teldryn didn’t really know his patron well enough to know what was going on in his head, but Chac just confessed it plainly.
“What are you doing that for?”
Chac lowered the larger body into the boat, with amazing gentleness despite his stature. Once he was in, Chac copied and took Hrodulf’s body into the boat as well. He wiped his hands on his hips once he was done, the wedding ring and amulet placed between them.
“I couldn’t just leave them like this… They get to be together now.”
“I didn’t know you where so romantic.” Teldryn commented, and soon helped the Bosmer push the boat out onto the waves, soon setting it ablaze with a well placed fireball. Teldryn took a few steps back and observed the smoke rising up, the boat a fiery grave. Something inside Teldryn that he tried to hide so well came out, and demanded every piece of him.
“That’s a damn shame.” the Dunmer has to comment, and Chac crossed his arms as he watched the two burn. In his mind he mused over what Chac must be thinking right now; certainly nothing good.
“I’m sorry.” Teldryn had to say, because he couldn’t think of anything else.
“Why are you sorry? People die every day.”
“I just figured, because well,” Teldryn stammered, all at once feeling like a n'wah for thinking Chac only cared because he was gay, too.
“It’s alright, you don’t have to explain.” Chac squatted on the sand before the lockbox, and sifted through his pockets for a lockpick. Teldryn toed the ashen sand and felt a little out of place. The fiery boat went out to sea all the while he cracked the safe, finding pendants and gold inside. His usual smiling face was bereft right now, and Teldryn wasn’t sure what to say for a long while.
Teldryn chose instead to reminisce about his own Nordic tragedy, his severe look hidden well behind a masked face. What was it with Nords and their damn pride? It seems like it would have saved these two as well if it never had come to that damn pride. Both elves had their reasons to be forlorn, and neither wished to share.