The New Faces of Skyrim

Chapter Ten - Dunane

"Pinemoon?" Aira said, echoing Dunane. "I don't think we'd be going there for a sword."

Dunane shook his head. "Yeah but now we have to check it out," he sighed, ducking down to pull their packs into view. "Aren't their vampires over there?" He shuddered. "What's worse then vampires?"

After returning to the inn, Dunane had bent over the note and book, scratching his idea onto the rumpled paper. It had turned out to be code, nothing more than the word 'Pinemoon.' 

He would be a liar if he said he didn't feel vaguely unsettled. He had wondered if they were being lead on, but Aira had been so focused on the blade he had, stupidly, kept it to himself. Even after confessing his fears, Aira still seemed bent on finding that sword, although she had grumpily admitted that they needed to try and clear the cave out.

"Lots of things. The Dark Brotherhood, werebears, elves, most mages," Aira was listing. "Elven vampires. Elven mage vampires."

"Skeevers," Dunane said simply.

Aira shuddered. "Nothing is worse than skeevers."

Dunane shot her a mischievous grin. "Enchanted skeevers."

"Oh no, no, no. I know that face. You are not enchanting a skeever."

"Okay but just hear me out here -"

"No, Dunane. And that's final."

Dunane shrugged half-heartedly. "Fine, but I'll find someone that thinks it would be cool, mark my words," he said, shouldering his pack. "Are you ready to go?"

The cave smelled like death. But mostly, it smelled of smoldering corpses. Clearly, they were no the only ones brought here.

Nothing moved except for the flames on torches. 

The first body was that of a wolf, and the next those of vampires, their eyes dull and unseeing. Aira and Dunane advanced, only sharing a curious glance when the sound of voices drifted through the tunnels.

"Qa'shan, please put down the bow. I knew Aryon when I was a kid, I'm not going to do anything or tell anyone."

"This one can't be sure!"

"Why don't you let him decide instead of killing me?"

Dunane motioned to Aira with his free hand. She nodded back and he led the way into the cavern. They turned and immediately, a nocked arrow was pointing straight at him.

"Who are you?"

A Khajiit held the bow, her eyes a strange, uncomfortable orange. They seemed to look right through him, as if he were nothing more than city haze.

Dunane lifted his hands. "Not a threat."

"Qa'shan, they're not vampires." The speaker was a Dunmer, tall and willowy. His robes were orange and gray in design. They looked expensive, Dunane noted, curiosity prickling at the back of his mind.

Qa'shan didn't lower her weapon. "Then what are they doing here?"

This time, Aira spoke, her tone the soothing voice she used to settle guild members during disagreements. "Would you believe me if I told you we originally were going to come here for a sword? Someone's been luring us here, though, and I don't know why."

Slowly, Qa'shan's bow lowered, her eyes suddenly bright, ears pricked. The Dunmer next to her stepped forward, just as intent. "Who are you two? Why would you be brought here?"

Dunane and Aira shared a glance. At Dunane's nod, Aira  continued. "I'm Aira, leader of the Thieves Guild. This is my husband, Dunane. He's a hired sword. Why are you two here?"

Mynil glanced over his shoulder at the Khajiit. When she didn't move or respond, he sighed. "Qa'shan is here to take care of an assassin's contract. I'm also part of it. But," he added hastily, "I'm not part of the Brotherhood, or anything."

He paused, rubbing the thumb of one hand against the palm of the other. "Aira, do you know someone called Azaril?"

Aira blinked, the side of her lips quirking to the side. Dunane frowned as well. The name itself sounded vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't place where he had heard it.

"It doesn't ring a bell, no."

Before the mer could say anything else, Dunane stepped forward. "Why were you two talking about Aryon?"

Qa'shan ignored him. "Clearly they don't want guild leaders then. The Arch-Mage would already be here, and so would Svenja."

"Fryssa is a healer and a pacifist, not a warrior," Dunane interjected. "She would avoid a conflict like this unless it dealt with the college directly."

"They wouldn't care about a pacifist, then, would they?"

Qa'shan let out a strange sort of growling chuff. "Not if they already have a powerful mage to use. Two of them, now, it seems."

Silence. Not one of them moved. Dunane felt like he had been thrust knee deep into a summer bog.

Aira raised her hands, palms out like she was trying to soothe an animal. "Now hold on. No one said anything about use. What if they just want to get rid of us?"

Qa'shan spat. "Vampires want their own gain. Turn us into servants. Personal assassins, obedient thief, and a couple of mages on a chain."

Mynil's already soft voice became even softer, barely a whisper in the empty cavern. "Qa'shan, you know they don't want Azaril as an assassin."

For a terrifying moment, Dunane thought the Khajiit would go for Mynil's throat. Mynil, however, raised his voice and pressed on, tucking his shaking hands behind his back. "Qa'shan, maybe we need Azaril here. He's the most experienced."

"He left behind his Dragonborn duties for a reason! Do not throw him back into this."

"Wait, wait," Aira said, "the Dragonborn is dead."

Dunane felt light. "Clearly, Aira, he is not." Turning his attention back to Qa'shan and Mynil, he continued. "You two know the Dragonborn? Can I meet him? Please?"

Mynil and Qa'shan gave each other a look, one guilty and one murderous.

"This one refuses to go and get him," Qa'shan said, her tone final.

Mynil clenched his jaw. "Then I'll get him."

Qa'shan barked a laugh. "You? You would never make it past the first curve in the road, much less all the way back to Dawnstar."

"I'll ride fast."

"Fine." Qa'shan gestured toward the tunnel that led out. Her eyes glittered. "Go on then."

Mynil narrowed his eyes, took a shaky breath, spun on his heels, and stalked out, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

A silence broken moments later by Dunane's excited voice.

"I get to meet the Dragonborn."