A Father's Last Gift

Aran followed his master down into the tunnel carefully, forced to turn sideways in a mimic of Chloe as his armor slowly scraped along the rocks of the narrow cave. He was constantly forced to stop and adjust himself to free his armor from the rocks jutting out of the cave wall, forced to crouch low as well so as not to bump his head on the ceiling. He was relieved when they finally reached a larger section of tunnel, pushing through the narrow hole with more scraping of his armor. He stood up fully once he was free of the rock, watching Chloe as she stepped forward.

"Aran, these tunnels all look the same,” Chloe said with a whisper and leaving him mildly surprised. He walked forward to join her, realizing on closer inspection that they were indeed at a crossroads. He peered into the darkness of each tunnel, looking for any kind of indication to which path they should take. Chloe seemed to have a similar idea, though she had as little success as he.

"I know not which to take, nor are there any signs of illumination from any. Not even the luminescent fungi I read about in that book: 'A Guide to Caverneering'. By any chance did those mentors of yours teach you how to find your way out of a cave? Mine didn't, too busy with Direnni history."

Aran nodded and pulled off his glove, pulling up his helmet and sticking a finger in his mouth. It was cold on his tongue, and he pulled it out quickly, feeling the chill of the cave wrap around his wet finger. Walking forward, he held his finger up to one of the tunnels, before moving on to the the other two, wetting his finger again as it dried. From only one of the tunnels could he feel the gentle flow of air, and he quickly pulled his glove back on to protect his hand from the creeping cold.

“It's this way,” he said, setting his helmet back in place and pointing at the tunnel he'd felt the air flowing towards. “For air to flow, there must be an entrance and an exit,” Aran explained as he peered into the darkness of the tunnel. “This is the only tunnel with air flowing through it, which means it is the only tunnel through which there can be an exit. Shall we?” he asked, still reluctant to let her go first and resting a hand on his blade instinctively.

Aran smiled under his helmet as Chloe mimicked his hand motion, tryin to feel the subtle flow of air without first wetting her finger. He had barely felt the flow himself, with the biting cold. Truth be told, he found himself questioning if he hadn’t just imagined it, the look on his master’s face telling him she likely hadn’t felt anything. Still, there was no other guarantee to tell them which way would be the fastest out of the cave, or if there even was another exit to be found.

Chloe gave him a smile, and it filled him with a sense of pride that he’d been able to please her again. That was all he was meant for, and though he’d never admit it out loud, it did make him happy. “You’re slowly building up that worth of yours, I’m keeping a tab in my mind.”

Aran gripped his sword a bit tighter as Chloe shone the torch down the hallway. The tunnel was empty, but he’d been trained to always keep his guard up. “Maybe you’ll eventually be worth as many Septims as my father paid for your services?” Aran winced under his helmet. That was a bit of a low blow for him. He’d always strived to be suitable for a potential master, yet it had taken him longer to be sold then most others. A part of him was even disappointed. The tales of Talos’ servant that the An’kin had told him had made him hope he’d be sold to a powerful lord or someone powerful. Chloe was young, but her father was just a merchant. He’d never expect her to conquer a nation. And certainly never ascend to godhood. The most he could hope for was a few years of excitement before she settled down and all he had to do would keep her pillow fluffed and laundry clean while she flipped through business ledgers.

“Maybe I’ll sell you on for profit at that point. Trade you in for a younger model.”

He knew from her tone it was a joke, but the prospect still pained him. No matter what his service with Chloe brought him, he would accept his fate. Still, selling him off was as good a sentencing him to death. He didn’t want to point that out to her after how she’d reacted to her father buying him. Her opinion of him seemed bad enough already, but at least now she seemed to be better entertaining the idea of keeping him. “Maybe I will just need to prove I’m worth far more than he paid before you dispose of me then.”

He’d wanted the words back as soon as he said them. Was what it about Chloe that had him losing his composure so often? His reply had bordered on boastful, and she hadn’t said anything about trying to dispose of him. Selling him was a business decision, and there was no reason for him to see it as anything else. At least he’d managed to keep his voice hard like a rock and she couldn’t see the worried frown under his helmet.

“Then again, I might lose you in this cave.” Chloe continued while Aran stifled a sigh of relief. If she’d noticed his mistake, at least she hadn’t confronted him about it. Bond or no bond, the day she confronted him with a hundred questions was the day he’d lose his well-crafted composure, and likely his life. No one wanted a flawed tool, and a newer model might very well serve her longer, or even better.

Cautiously, he followed her down the tunnel, trying to peer over her shoulder and past the flickering flame into the darkness ahead. He’d have to squeeze past her if a threat arose, and his hand tightened on his sword again at the thought. She’d had proven herself capable truly enough, though Chloe was still no warrior. No reason for him to be relaxed with his master yet.

“Do you think this used to be part of a mine? I never imagined caves to be so… Straight cut. Unless something made them, intelligent or otherwise. Giant Mountain Moles?”

“Perhaps master,” Aran mused, analyzing the rock around them as he had before in the first cave. “I can say with certainty now the cave is not made by the hands of a man now. See the lines in the rock?” he asked, pointing at the ground while they made their way through the tunnel. “Over time, water makes its way into the rock, and wears away at it. It takes the past of least resistance, and pools at the lowest point, like ale in a cup. The stalactites and stalagmites you see are a product of that. The cracks in the rock probably happened when water froze in the cold and expanded during the colder months.”

Aran tapped the copper peg on his belt idly, remembering when all this seemingly needless information had been pounded into his head. It still seemed to have no use other than answering his master’s question, but maybe that was all it had been meant for anyway. It was certainly unlikely he’d be used as a miner, though as they descended further it seemed like cave explorer was indeed more possible then he’d thought.

As they continued heading down, the tunnel slowly but surely began to widen out further. It wasn’t too much longer until the tunnel gave way to a large cave, stalactites and stalagmites filling the cavern, with the crystallization all around them sparkling in the light of the torch like thousands of stars in the night sky. Aran moved up to his masters side, peering forward into the sparkling cavern illuminated by the torch. Ahead of them, the cavern had a sloping path circling around the edge of the cavern beneath them, eventually fading away into darkness.

Moving up to the edge, Aran kicked a loose pebble over the edge, the rock falling into darkness. After a few moments the splash of water echoed up onto their perch, signaling the water below. With a look around, Aran couldn’t see any other path to take, stepping closer to the edge. “Seems we go down my lady,” Aran advised flatly, continuing to pee down. Almost in reply to his words, a low growl came from the bottom of the cavern, and Aran quickly stepped away from the edge and drew his sword softly.

“We should put the torch out my lady,” he whispered to Chloe with slight urgency in his voice, taking his shield from his back and fitting it onto his arm. Whatever that growl had come from, he doubted the creatures of such a cave were friendly, and would treat them as anything less than their next meal. A part of him remembered the dragon, and he gulped silently. Surely such a beast couldn’t find its way into a tunnel like this, could it?

Aran held fast, steady and silent as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. It took some moments, but slowly the outline of the ledge appeared before him, making it clear that there was a light source of some kind below them. He tensed slightly as he felt a pressure on his back, relaxing again the moment he realized his master had reached out to him, either for comfort or simply to gain a bearing in the almost smothering darkness. He silently wished he had taken time to learn Night-Eye, to help him see more then the outlines of the rock.

 "Aran? Must we go down?"

Another growl came from the pit, a seeming response to her words, followed by the splash of water as whatever beast that lurked below moved into the pool that had formed beneath them. He may not be able to see the creature, but he was certain now it was no dragon. At that distance, the growl would be louder, and a dragon walking might well make tremors through the cave. After another moment of silence, he looked over his shoulder, to reassure his master.

“I believe so, my lady,” he whispered, not bothering to correct himself for the moment, listening for any response from below. Without the sound of a growl in reply, he continued. “Without the horses, we've not the food to last until the snow melts. If nothing else, the beast could serve to feed us for a time. You may wait here, if you prefer, while I dispatch the creature.”

Without waiting for an answer, he crept forward, making naught a sound as he began slowly down the sloped path on the outer edge of the cavern. He took extra care to keep his footing firm, the path somewhat slippery a it took a precarious, uneven slope to the depths below. As he climbed lowered, soon the dim, flickering light from beneath began brighter, illuminating the pool below him and the beast drinking from the water.

It became clear to him what they had stumbled upon as he stared at the creature beneath him, the four-legged reptilian lapping water from the pool. Around its neck, a spiked collar signified its domestication, and the flickering torch-light could only mean the cave belonged to one thing – Goblins.
In truth, the revelation brought him a bit of relief. Worries of starvation and exposure had been nagging at him in the back of his mind, but in truth Goblins meant supplies, food, even warmth. It was unlikely the ones that had taken up residence in this cave would be too large of a group, certainly not so large he and his master couldn't dispatch them.

First things first, he needed to dispatch the Durzog, and quickly before it finished drinking and moved on. Silently, he moved back up the path a ways, positioning himself above the reptilian creature. Doing his best to give the creature no warning, he stepped off the ledge, falling twice his height, sword extended below him. Despite his gear silenced by magic, there was no muffling the splash of water as he landed in the pool, water coming up to his ankles as he buried his sword directly into the beasts head. It was dead in almost an instant, slumping over as Aran regained his footing.

Aran placed his foot on the creatures snout, grabbing the haft of his sword with both hands and pulling it out of the creatures skull. It slipped from it's hold with the sound of cutting meat, as Aran took the blade and wiped it off on the creatures fur. Pondering for a moment, he moved over to the tunnel the torchlight had come from. At least one torch was visible from his position, but if any of the resident goblins had heard the noise, they clearly had thought nothing of it.

“It's clear for now, my lady,” he announced, keeping a grip on his sword, in case anything were to come at him after he spoke. For the moment at least, things seemed to remain calm, and he waited patiently for his master to rejoin him.

“Is that a Durzog? Here?” his master asked him, and Aran nodded. Silhouetted against the torch light creeping from the cave, he was certain she could see him now that the darkness was not so heavy. “I thought we'd wiped them out years ago!” That statement had him raising an eyebrow underneath his helmet. He'd never heard of anyone trying to push the Durzog into extinction, even if they were a vicious enough creature to hunt. From what he knew, goblins had often tamed the beasts, and they were just as much of a threat. Still, Chloe heard the information somewhere, and even a rumor had some credence to it.

He waited for her to settle herself, watching as she took in the room as he had. "Somebody lives here, then." she added as she moved closer to Aran. "I don't think they'll be happy you killed their pet." He nodded again, his hand still clutching his sword. So close to the road as they were, it was likely that the Goblins would have attacked them anyway as they passed. He expected that they avoided any caravans, however many there were, but the two of them would've made perfect targets for the goblins. With a caravan, people could escape, someone might notice its absence, assuming the goblins were smart enough to reason it out. Two lone travelers however, with no bodies to be found, it would be nearly impossible for anyone that cared to discern just where and when they had disappeared.

Aran suppressed a grin at that thought. Their path may have diverged from that, but even with the fight before them the goblins would find him no easy prey. So long as this group had no warlords or witches, he doubted they'd pose much of a challenge at all. He doubted this clan could be that large however, not this close to the road. His main worry was just to keep them from reaching Chloe.

As though in reaction to his thoughts, his master drew her sword, and he frowned beneath his helmet. Surely she did not intend to fight? Her magicka would likely serve her better than the sword, especially the way she held it low as though tired. "We're going to need to fight our way through, aren't we?" A goblin let out a fit of coughs as she whispered to him, and he frowned.

“Yes. I will cut us a path,” he said, voice cold and icy to match the air around him. Aran spoke of it as though the killing was of little consequence. He was a tool, and despite all his training this was his primary purpose. His master was in danger, and since the way forward was her best chance of survival, he would balk at nothing. “If it pleases you, stay behind me. There is no need for you to endanger yourself,” he told her, eying the sword. “The passage is narrow here, so they should not be able to reach you. If you desire, you can wait here, and I will return for you when I have dispatched of the goblins.”

He did not expect her stay, not as headstrong as his master carried herself, but at the very least he hoped to keep her from fighting. Regardless of her skill, goblins used more then just swords. In such a small space it would be difficult to doge an attack, and a sword was not suited to easily parry a spear, mace, or arrow. His shield however, would serve all of those purposes, until he could push in to finish a foe. Raising his shield in preparation, he nestled his blade in the curved top of his shield. It was really meant to hold a spear, but he was not as skilled with spear as with sword. Regardless, the notch served its purpose, and he began moving down the tunnel towards the lit torch.

Aran did not bother to argue with his master. He had voiced his opinion and Chloe had denied him. In truth, this did not please him much, but Aran thought he could protect his master if things became hectic. As he had already said, the cave was narrow enough where nothing should be able to pass him. At least for the time being anyway. This was not like the city or the forest, where hidden assailants could attack at any angle and dragons could swoop down from the skies where he could not defend. Durzog and Goblins were of no major consequence, not with a bottleneck he could use to his advantage.

He continued to hold the cold at bay, and they continued down the cavern. He had not realized her hand had been on his back, but felt it removed when they started moving forward. To his surprise, the small gesture pleased him. He had not done the best job protecting her so far, and yet it seemed she might trust him do keep her safe after all.

The curse coming from a hidden goblin ahead made Aran tensed, adrenaline surging as he prepared to kill. And yet, no attack came, no spear thrust from the dark or hidden arrow. He came into view of the next cave and laid eyes upon the hovel and its occupant, frowning slightly beneath his helmet. The goblin faced away from him, but there was no simple method of reaching the creature. In his current attire the goblin was certain to hear him if he tried to ambush it in a similar manner to the Durzog. The noises coming from the nearby tunnel confirmed his suspicions that there would be more then a single goblin.

Settling on a course of action, Aran quietly shifted his sword to the hand that carried his shield, lowering them both to his side and drawing the carving knife from his belt. The reflection of fire flickered on the outline of the curved metal blade, and Aran spun the knife in his palm smoothly. Grasping the curved knife by its blade rather then hilt, he moved his arm to the side, before flicking it back and releasing the blade. The curved blade spun through the air in a gentle arc, end over end, until coming to rest smoothly in the neck of the goblin. It let out gurgling noise, and Aran moved to it quickly, pulling his blade from its neck before bringing the hilt around in his hand. He drew the curved blade across the goblin's throat, opening it from end to end, and the spear fell to the floor, rolling over the fire.

As he wiped the blade on the goblin's ragged clothing, cleaning the blood off before re-sheathing the knife, he failed to notice another Goblin approach from the other tunnel. His eyes met with the goblins for a moment and he knelt for the spear. The new arrival screamed a cry of battle, lowering it's spear to charge at Aran, but the guardian moved like lightning. The he drew the collected spear over his shoulder and launched it with all his might at the charging goblin. The spearpoint took the goblin in the chest, tearing through the bone sewn over leather on the creature's chest. It fell backwards, almost lifted in the air, its own spear dropping to the ground.

The shrieks were returned from depper in the cave, and Aran took his sword back in hand as two more of the green-skins came through the cave, both with axes and one with a small buckler. They jumped nimbly over their fallen brother and came at Aran as the man strode to meet them. As they clashed together, Aran danced with all the skill of his training. Despite his disadvantage, he met the attacks of the two goblins easily, parrying one axe-blade with his sword and deflecting another with shield. The goblins swung with all their strength, working together, but Aran anticipated their every move. The clash of metal on metal echoed in the cavern as blade met axe time and time again, until Aran gained the upper hand.

With a twist he avoided the strike from an axe, longsword streaking through the air and taking the hand of the goblin that wielded it. Still whirling, his shield rose to block the attack from the second attack, and with a hewing noise his blade took the first goblins head from it's shoulders, bouncing down from where it belonged and rolling across the uneven surface as blood streamed down the crumpling corpse.

With the first out of the way, he made short work of the second goblin, bullrushing the creature and batting it's own shield out of the way with his. His sword followed the gap smoothly, driving itself through the belly of the second goblin. It screeched in pain, dropping it's weapons as he pulled the hilt from it's belly, spinning back towards the cave entrance. A third goblin seemed to appear from nowhere as he spun, but Aran seemed to have already calculated his attack. Still spinning his blade severed the haft of the wooden spear, rendering the third goblins weapon useless. Halting his spin and arm traveling in an arc, it swiveled from the sidewards angle used to disable the spear and hewed through the goblin from shoulder to waist. Blood sprayed from the massive gash and the goblin fell backwards.

He moved again, heading straight for the tunnel where more battle-cries echoed through the cavern, with only the fight before him. There were no orders to worry about now, no risk of his slipping emotion. Only the absolute focus brought by the adrenaline surging through him and the purpose for which he fought. Only the dance of blades and the protection of his master mattered now, and above all, this was where he excelled. He strode forward with the confidence of a blademaster and the regality of a king, and with the flicker of firelight his blade seemed to hunger for more blood of it's own accord.