Down this narrow tunnel of stone we plunge; behind us pours the wrath of the Daedric nation. We have permitted ourselves a brief respite, though none of us are confident that we can stay here for long. Still, I have to put down some thoughts while they’re fresh in my mind.
Our initial plan of sneaking into the guards’ camp in the night was immediately foiled when we arrived: they were awake. Initially we thought about coming back to try again later on, but our curiosity got the better of us.
The Daedra had a man in their custody. They dragged him into their camp and immediately fell into discussion as to his fate. It seemed those who found him wanted to have their fun with him, perhaps torture him. But everything escalated when one of them found a brand on his neck hidden under a light scarf.
He was an escaped prisoner, some sort of servant to the Daedric Prince himself. Things got heated then, with two distinct groups forming among the guards. One side argued that he should be killed on the spot for running away, while the other cautioned against action taken against a member of the Prince’s retinue.
Then a scout appeared in the camp, dressed in light armor and completely out of breath. Salisir moved forward before anyone translated what it was he said. We killed the lot of them without much difficulty – they hardly saw us coming. Standing around a fire will blind you to dangers lurking in the night.
“Let’s go,” was all Salisir said as he hauled the runaway to his feet and took off running himself.
We’d gone a few miles underground before Hembila finally explained that the runaway was not only from the Daedric Prince’s household, but was one of his prized servants. More than that, a prized expressionist.
Behind us now is not just a search party, but a search battalion. There are more troops chasing us through this cave than can fit. I need to sleep while I can; I have the feeling we will be back up and running long before I am ready.