In the Depths

This is an excerpt the written account of an adventuring scholar by the name of Grakus Sellicus. It was brought to Calcemo of Markath.

4E206 Rain's Hand,
Middas,
I came to this, the frozen North of Skyrim in search of the mythical Blackreach. My earlier entries describe this long journey and the trials I faced.

... How I miss those treks through the frozen forests and icy mountain goat paths generously called trails by locals. And those vague landmarks those of the tiny hamlets swore by. Even the frost troll that chased me for miles it seemed, just two weeks ago.

All in the life of a wandering scholar. One who truly wants to experience life for himself and see with his own eyes the halls ancient peoples once walked.

But... now that I'm here. Now that I am experiencing this life, seeing this ancient place...

Gods, I have to get out of this place. Those are the thoughts that have troubled me since that lift lowered me down and the beauty of the alien place was lost.

First, let me describe what I saw when I first stepped out into that world.

Hearken back to my earlier entries of the frigid biting cold of Skyrim and the relative warmth found in Raldbthar.

But down here there was no relative warmth. It was extremely warm and I found myself quickly shedding my cloak of heavy fur and readjusted my straps to my equipment. In my life as I said earlier as a wandering scholar I have learned many ways to protect myself. One of these ways was being quiet as I moved and the slouched creatures I had encountered in the ruins earlier while seemingly blind had often been drawn by noise. Up there in Raldbthar, there had been the cover from their senses in the form of the machines of the long lost Dwarves. The strange pumping devices and hissing steam and the ever turning gears.

But down in this land of dark soil and glowing fungus (many of which seemed similar to certain other flora I had encountered when traversing Eastern Morrowind) there was a... pressing quiet. Just a far off drip in the cavernous expanse and some flowing water far off. But the press of the quiet filled this gap beneath the dirt.

I thought to cast a light spell- one my brothers oft referred to as candlelight as they perused scrolls and books for their scholarly practices- but thought better of it. Perhaps Falmer would be my only challenge, perhaps not. Instead, I had twisted the magicka in my eyes and the world became cast in shades of grey, but so much more easily was I able to make my way.

The fungus that was luminous was quite bright in this perspective but I found myself rejecting the thought of continuing along the oddly worn path that seemed to be lined with these light sources.

Glad I was that I did.

Down this path that I had shirked I was able to see those wretched, pale skinned Falmer quickly making their way along. It... seemed as if they were heading to where I had from. The lift I realized moments later. They were investigating the disturbance that had broken the sanctity of their quiet realm.

In amongst their number I caught sight of scuttling... things. They were large insects and from my position I could clearly see the large pincers that clicked dangerously. I remember imagining all the awful things and ways those deadly implements could kill or maim.

But the largest of the creatures who was dressed in dark chitinous armor turned. I remember there were no eyes but it seemed to look right at me.

Then it seemed to sniff the air. It was... smelling for something. Smelling for me.

I sat frozen, willing it to turn away. And slowly it did, bringing up the rear of the group.

My night eye spell wore off and a terrible thought struck me.

I had left my cloak back there. The one that I had many nights wrapped around myself. Sweated into during fights against wolves and amnuculi and their ilk.

My cloak... that smelled just like me.

I remember taking my dagger from my belt as I moved from my position. Cutting free mushrooms and rubbing them across myself, I hoped to mask my scent.

Those creatures were soon screeching far off behind me. I heard those raspy calls echoing back to me as I fled. I soon came across a small squat building and took refuge. There had been a skeleton laying not far from the door but put it from my mind. I needed to hide. I needed to pray in silence.

4E206 Rain's Hand,
Turdas?
I had cowered in the building for some time before I was able to finally let rest take me. I am... fairly confident that it is Turdas. Anyways, I had decided this building would be my base of operations. It was furnished with a bed and an alchemy lab as well as an enchanting station. I had brought a good deal of smoked meat and salted fish, along with some carrots and cabbage which I kept through frost salts in the bottom of the carrying satchel.

But with the vastness of this cavern, perhaps it would not be enough. The first task I set for myself was in the search of a way to viably search for a means to provision myself with food and drinking water. I'm very thankful for the alchemy laboratory to sort what would be safe for consumption and what would be hazardous; or better suited for potion making.

It had been with this mindset (and a much lighter pack) that I set out.

As I said in one of my earlier works whilst exploring Aylied Ruins in the Niben Valley, I prefer a solitary venture as it leaves me to my thoughts and free of distraction.

Now though, I found myself yearning for another voice. Just some other thing than this pressing silence which occasionally carried a faint... murmur like a dim eyed skooma den, staring at a new entry while they babbled softly in hushed tone. I came to use this to mark the passage of time. The quiet murmur would happen nearly every hour for a span of ten minutes. Then the long quiet would follow until the next soft outbreak.

I noted that there was some fish in a small pool nearby. It made some small consolation.

I happened upon one of the skittering creatures I had seen with their Falmer masters. I vaguely recall a tome... Chaurus Pie? Were these the creatures described in that tome. I thought to my experience amongst an Ashlander Tribe whom I had approached with courtesy some years before on their hunting and food gathering preparations.

Most scholars observed. I learned and remembered.

Perhaps the creatures would provide similar carving methods as a shalk beetle for the precious meat then?

That provided me with another, potentially dangerous source of food. I witnesses the truth of the danger as I watched it spit a foul liquid at some hapless creature.

Perhaps it would be better to find what other creature this spiny chitinous creature chose as its meal and adopt it as my own.

It would possibly be a safer meal.

Satisfied that I could fish or hunt if necessary, I began to investigate for any herbs or roots. I found much fungus and even strayed across a set of crimson red leaves growing near the edge of another nearby shallow stream. A faint light emitted from it along with a light chiming sound.

I dared not to collect it. Such a thing may bring those ever slouched forms after me. It was at this point that I noticed something very... strange. It was a soft sound, one which I surely would have missed anywhere else. But here in this den of silence, even the softest sounds could bring a person's soul to shiver. As though noise was unwelcome. With my night eye spell still about me (why the Nords do not commit themselves more to the study magic struck me as very odd in that moment) I was able to identify the source some small distance away. It was a woman, tall and fair haired. She wore rags for clothing, a ragged pair of trousers worn threadbare and a band around her chest that appeared much the same.

Far enough away was I though, that I doubt she would be able to even see a suggestion of me, especially if the way she had groped through the darkness was any indication.

I thought to call over to her or make my way when I saw them. The woman was groping along the edges of a natural risin to her left and perched on the edge of it were several Falmer. I could imagine the gentle, quiet snarls. I could see one lift its axe as she passed beneath it.

The spell was a blessing in the dark. It allowed me to walk easier in this gloom that surrounded me. It allowed me to mark where my foes were and to stumble upon things that I am sure many an adventurer would have missed by torchlight. And it allowed me to see all these things without marking my own passing.

And now it allowed me to witness the sight of the axe coming down upon the helpless and blind woman.

I'd expected the darkness would swallow the sound. But no. I heard... I will not write more of what happened. But I strongly suspect that the woman was still alive by her screams as she was dragged off.

Her pleading stays with me as I write this in what I claimed as my field base.

Why are there other surface dwellers down her in this darkness?

... Why was I still here?

I've managed to identify several of the mushrooms as safe to eat. It was something that should have elated me.

I could only think of the woman and her words. "Don't take me back."

Back to where I wonder...

4E206 Rain's Hand, Second waking*
I have decided not to attempt to write down the days from this point forward. It is difficult to measure the time of day and night in a world with no sun or moons.

I quickly ate my breakfast of mushroom and salted fish before deciding to search the area for wherever the woman may have been taken. At first I had questioned the wisdom of such action but realized I couldn't just leave her.

I found myself out into the cavern again and brought myself back to where I had found the woman crying. It didn't take long to make out the trail where she'd been dragged. I followed it along for two murmurs to pass through and when I came to the end of it I felt frozen. I had begun to hear the soft sounds of metal striking stone nearly twenty minutes ago by my reckoning. Like everything else that made noise it had seemed unwelcome. It was hard to explain the feelings brought on by this phenomena.

It was easy to understand what I felt as I came upon the sight that had awaited me. There was a group of people, all tapping away at the rock. Surrounding them were Falmer, each of them holding a bow. Except for one.

This one, I think was a female by virtue of it having breasts alone. Its face was hideous and the pale hair pulled into a mockery of the pig-tails I had seen other races of elven women style their hair.

It brandished a staff, which would occasionally be used to cast a ball of mage light upon an edifice in the center of the mining group.it appeared to be enough to allow the others to see. Those that needed to see anyways.

Stuck to this pole was the woman I had seen earlier. Her head hung limply to one side and from my distance I was unable to tell if she were living or dead.

The chitinous swords pinning her to the edifice suggested she was long gone from this world however. I wanted to curse but knew better.

I staid there and watched them as they worked for hours, feeling helpless. The people were all so eerily quiet. This quiet from familiar forms is what probably what disturbed me the most.

After the second hour of watching them work something terrifying occurred: one of the Falmer began to sniff at the air and its head began to turn in my general direction. I knew it was time for me to move on at that point.

I began to wonder if the secrets here were worth searching for then...

(And there we are. If this is the wrong sub for something like this, please let me know. I just felt Blackreach needed a little world building and would gladly continue this if appropriate. Also please forgive any spelling mistakes or missing spaces. This was all written from my memo app on my phone.)