Dagothlivion

A weird Morrowind-Oblivion crossover story.

1)

He shot along over Vvardenfell at the height of approximately Very Very Deadly, desperately clinging to the neck of the bony, leathery, shrieking critter, and there was only place for one thought in the head of Hussu Zainamussushashunummi: The attempt to tame cliff racers and use them as a method of fast travel was the last, definite proof that Dagoth Ru had gone completely bonkers.

A harsh judgement, Hussu thought, as he prided himself on having a fairly high tolerance in these matters. In the ten years of his service to the Sixth House Hussu had seen his share of frightening things, and he had thought nothing could gross him out anymore. But still, there were some things that most definitely were not meant to be, and one of those was the skinny, deformed, tentacled shape of a Dagoth clinging to a cliff racer a mile over Vvardenfell. "Woo-hoo!" the wretched creature shrieked. Various appendages and its oversized robe were fluttering in the wind. "Hussu, how do you like that? Eh?"

Hussu did not reply. Instead, he leaned over the back of his own cliff racer and regurgitated what had been a very appealing breakfast of roasted ordinator leg back in Kogoruhn. Oh, sweet Kogoruhn! How Hussu wished to be back there. It was dirty, dusty, smelly, dimly lit, ruined, blood-stained, labyrinthine and plain nauseating, but it had one undeniable quality: a floor. But his master seemed determined to go on, and while the villages and swamps of the Bitter Coast whizzed past beneath them, all Hussu could do was wonder how the Vivec he had ended up here.

***

By birth, Hussu Zainamussushashunummi was an Ashlander. He remembered his childhood in the middle of nowhere, wild and free. He remembered looking after the guars, sitting at campfires, listening to the tales of the elders and being mocked by the other children because he had the shortest name of them all. And he remembered how he had left this land and his tribe, for the very rational reason that being wild and free does not help against the ash in your shoes. After that, Hussu had held quite a few jobs. But neither as guard for a Redoran nobleman nor as miner in Caldera had he earned the wealth or respect he thought he deserved. And being a cynic and opportunist at heart, Hussu had finally joined the side that seemed to be winning, and had entered the service of the Sixth House. After some initial irritation, he had worked his way up with somewhat surprising determination, and finally, he had become personal secretary and assistant of the being known as Dagoth Ru.

Ru was a weird one. Well, Hussu thought, being weird was sort of a requirement in House Dagoth, but Ru was... different. Why and how he had joined the Sixth House in the first place remained a mystery. But in contrast to many others, who ended up babbling and stacking furniture in ruined fortresses, Ru had kept a minimum of independent thinking and personality from his half-forgotten first life. How he had managed to do so while a mass of tentacles grew out of his head was something Hussu did not really want to know. Maybe it had helped that Dagoth Ur himself did not entirely trust Ru and tried to hold him at arm's length, sending him to the most remote fortresses far from the Red Mountain where he could carry out his weird ideas that, astonishingly, sometimes worked. Hussu became Ru's man for communication with the outside world, which, for the sake of better acceptance, had spared him the tentacles; and as soon as Dagoth Ur ruled the world, Hussu had planned to retire to a nice little estate with refreshingly little ash, where he could enjoy unlimited wealth and lots of young nubile Argonians. He did not know why, but he liked Argonians. Well, it had been a pleasant dream, until reality had kicked in. Hard.

Dagoth Ru had many qualities, but valour in battle was not one of them. To be honest, what had saved his life in Dagoth Ur's downfall was pure cowardice. Ru had been hastily called back to his master's citadel when this mad Nerevar person slaughtered his way through it. Two days later Hussu had found Ru. Not amongst the heaps of dead Dagoths who had thrown themselves heroically into this intruder's way, but hidden in an old wine barrel. Together they had stumbled out of the citadel, survivors of a lost war and - as Ru turned out to be the highest-ranking Dagoth left - heirs to an empire that consisted of a dozen crumbling Dwemer fortresses filled with howling ash zombies. They had done the only reasonable thing. They had given it all up, retreated to the most remote fortress in the northern Ashlands and concentrated on an entirely different plan to make the world a better place. This time, it had involved cliff racers. And as Hussu now dangled helplessly on the back of a creature that was anatomically quite unfit for being sat on, he thought that the initial plan to infect every living being with Corprus had had its advantages.

"Now isn't that fantastic!" Dagoth Ru squawked, and Hussu wondered how someone so afraid of sword-waving heroes could be so oblivious to height. "I haven't had that much fun since the music stopped! Hussu, do you hear the wind? Do you hear its voice? Isn't it like the Song?"

"If that's what you've been hearing all these years", Hussu shouted over the howling wind, "no wonder you guys all went mad!"

Dagoth Ru answered with a cackling laughter. "Makes me hungry", he bellowed. "Travelling always makes me hungry." He took something out of his pocket, something wrapped in paper; as he ripped it off, Hussu recognized the repugnant greenish bulbousness of corprus meat. Even through the wind Hussu could hear Ru munching, and suddenly he was happy that his own breakfast was already safely on its way down. He forced himself to look the other way. Behind the two leading cliff racers of Ru and Hussu the others followed in a long line, two dozen tame critters with dark, cowering figures on their backs. Only one cliff racer carried another Dunmer, a haggard, one-eyed man, the other riders were ash slaves, ash zombies or corprus stalkers. "What are we going to do with these, Master?" Hussu asked. "They won't be very welcome in Cyrodiil - if that's still where we're going. Thinking it through, you won't be either."

"That's where we're going, yes", Ru shouted. "And I'll explain everything when we get there. No worries! I've got it all planned!"

Hussu frowned. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you?" he wanted to know. "Like, a frontal attack on the Imperial City?"

The cackling laughter returned and cut Hussu off. "Don't worry, Hussu", Ru squawked. "It will all become clear once we land."

"I hope so", Hussu murmured.

They passed a levitating mage, but he minded his own business.

2)

Outside Chorrol, the city of stones in western Cyrodiil, and very close to the old priory they called Weynon, there was a little patch where the wood left an opening and butterflies danced merrily between flowers and grass and weathered, mossy logs. They used to, anyway. Now a dozen white tents had been erected all over the place, and voices and the hammering of metal and wood had replaced the silence. Leashed to trunks and branches, cliff racers dozed in the treetops of the surrounding oaks. Chewed butterfly wings still dangled out of their beaks. A fireplace had been prepared in the middle of the clearing, tables and benches had been put up nearby, and a monk with a round face sat on one of the benches and felt slightly uneasy.

"I must say, Mister Pinner", Dagoth Ru said, "your hospitality is exceeding our expmcmmgmh." The last word came out quite obscured because of the roasted lamb leg he was shoving into his mouth. Its juices trickled down his cheeks and a number of facial features which had no name due to their rarity.

"It's Brother, please", the nervous monk said and dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief. Obviously he tried to be friendly, but the arrival of a war party on winged creatures, lead by a tentacled madman, was testing his countenance. "Not Mister. And the name is Piner. With one neht."

"Yes, yes", said Hussu, who felt it was time to step in. "And please, excuse our manners." He shot an icy glance to his master, who did not notice it because he was busy mutilating his lamb leg. "This is really a beautiful place, Prior Piner, and you have gone to great lengths providing us with all we need for our great and worthy cause."

"Speaking of which", Brother Piner said, "what exactly are you going to do?"

Hussu frowned, which made his haggard Ashlander face look even more grim. "I wish I knew", he answered. Worried, he looked over his shoulder where a red glow illuminated the treetops, an eery, flickering light like the smouldering remains of a dying forest fire.

"We're going to help you!" thundered Dagoth Ru. "With this little problem you have here. We are going to close this Oblivion gate for you. That will bring you safety, and us riches and fame. That's what we came all the way from Vvardenfell for. Isn't this a good idea?"

"Well", said Brother Piner unhappily, "yes. Of course. I have worried about that. I mean, except for our shepherd, I'm more or less alone here since Brother Jauffre left. You see, he accompanied this stranger and the priest Martin to Cloud Ruler Temple, and he hasn't returned since. I haven't heard anything. No news, no rumours. The Nine know what happened. I'm only a monk, you see, and now I'm sort of in charge here. Prior Maborel is dead, may the Nine look after his soul. There is no need to call me Prior, Mister Zainamushu... mussusanu..."

"Zainamussushashunummi" murmured Hussu.

"...bummi", said Brother Piner. "I haven't been officially promoted. In fact, I don't feel ready for it. I must say if you could close that gate, I'd feel much safer. You have no idea what it's like at night, when you hear the clannfears howling..." He shuddered. "I had some practice with the sword in my youth, don't ask. But I wasn't cut out for it. I'm a bookworm, not a warrior."

"I understand completely", Hussu said. "Then you probably don't want to join us when we, um, storm the castle. Right?"

"Never!" Brother Piner exclaimed. "Four unicorns couldn't drag me near that cursed portal."

"A pity", said Hussu darkly. "We could use another sword, or whatever you like to swing. Frankly, I'm not really convinced this whole thing is a good idea. Who knows what waits inside there. This is not a robber's cave. It's Oblivion itself, the realm of a Daedric Prince. And we are going to walk right in like we're on a holiday."

"Hussu, Hussu", said Dagoth Ru, "you're being a doomsayer again. Always worried, always preparing for the worst, eh? Don't get me wrong, that's what I pay you for. But sometimes I wish you'd see it all a little bit more positive. I have my sources, and they told me-"

"Aaaargh!" screamed Brother Piner in sheer panic, interrupting Ru. "Gods! What is that? Make it go away! Make it go away!"

"Guuuhmb", said the ash zombie who had tapped his shoulder in a tone of urgency. He was naked except for a loincloth and a ridiculously high yellow hat, and he stared at the monk with the big hole that gaped where the upper half of his face should be.

Hussu grabbed the creature's grey, bony arm. "I told you, pull these Colovian fur things down to your chin when you show yourself in public", he hissed. "You're not at home here."

"Buuuhn", said the creature meekly and looked down like a child that had been caught with its fingers in the candy pot.

"Let him go, Hussu", Dagoth Ru said merrily. "He's just trying to offer our excellent host a drink. Right? Go on, Zab, go on."

"Muumuhm!" said the ash zombie whose name was Zab, and nodded. He took out a very old-looking bottle, blew some cobwebs from it and then poured Brother Piner a glass. The liquid looked green and vile and fumed a little. Then he handed Dagoth Ru another glass of this stuff. Hussu shook his head when Zab waved the bottle at him.

"To a new era of friendship between the House Dagoth and the monks of something and everyone else!" bellowed Dagoth Ru and downed the liquid. Brother Piner breathed heavily and waited until Zab had slipped into his tent again. Then, probably just because courteousness did not allow him to refuse the toast, he took the glass to his lips. He grimaced, held his nose with the other hand and then slurped the green stuff. The glass fell from his hands, he grabbed his throat and then his stomach. He burped, and an idiotic grin crept over his face.

"Now, Mister Pinder", Dagoth Ru said and leaned over the table to him, "maybe you would like to reconsider? Come with us, we really need everyone. It won't be dangerous, and I'll pay you well. Even better than I already do for this accomodation. I promise."

Brother Piner kept grinning. A drop of saliva fell from his mouth and onto his robe. "Come with. Go gate. Yes yes", he babbled. "Go with you. Get pay. Money. No dangerous."

"Really remarkable", Hussu commented dryly, "what this Ancient Dagoth Brandy does to the intelligence and willpower of an unsuspecting mortal. Shall I lock him in the priory tonight? Not that he gets the idea to pray in the chapel for... sobriety."

"Now that's good thinking", Ru proclaimed. "That's what I pay you for! And tomorrow, we'll move out to conquer this gate-thing at dawn. Then, lunch in Chorrol?"

"Let's decide that afterwards", Hussu said. "Depending on our losses, we might have to reserve fewer tables at the inn."

Dagoth Ru rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

***

It was late at night. The fire had died down and the less humanoid creatures were snoring in their makeshift beds. Dagoth Ru's tent occasionally shook from little magical explosions, but as nobody cried for help, this was not Hussu's business.

The other Dunmer in their group, a tall, grim man in a green robe, walked up to Hussu, who had stepped outside his own tent for a last breath of air before bedtime. The man carried a muddy and slightly blood-stained shovel. His one eye glowed in a deep red, and as he spoke, he idly scratched the old scar that covered the other side of his face. "Damn farmers", he growled. "As if I had not enough work already."

Hussu knew Rararyn Radarys not very well. He had only recently joined them, after the downfall of the Great Man, and since been in charge of the cliff racer breeding, among other things.

"What happened?" Hussu asked. "I just heard screams from over there, but I was quite busy with that tipsy monk."

Rararyn shrugged. "Two dumb farmer boys. Named Rallus and Antus Odiil, for what it's worth. Were spying on our camp - no hostile intentions, I'm sure, just nosiness. The cliff racers got them before I could interfere. A pity. I buried the remains, in case these boys were important to someone."

"Hm." Hussu nodded approvingly. For a while they stood next to each other in silence and watched the red glow over the forest competing with the red glow of Masser from above. "Say, Rary", Hussu finally inquired, "how did you end up here? I mean, what made you join House Dagoth after all this?"

Rararyn shrugged again. "Who else would employ me? I was a Sleeper. I spent months sleepwalking over a bridge in Balmora and telling everyone off." He snorted. "Always the same bridge. To and fro. Day and night. I've asked for a job everywhere in Balmora, and the answer was always: Hey, aren't you the guy who stalked people on that bridge? Get out of here."

"Bummer", Hussu said compassionately.

"Yes", Rararyn answered. "Well, now I'm here. And I regret it already. Had I known we're going to do this, I'd have let a Kagouti cough on me and stayed home with the Blight."

Hussu chuckled, and again they watched the flickering light of Hell itself. Finally Rararyn took his shovel and wished Hussu a restful night. A good man, Hussu admitted to himself.

It really was a pity, he thought, that they were all going to die in this mad adventure.

3)

Moaning and groaning three corprus stalkers jumped onto the poor clannfear that guarded the huge, menacing stone arc. One grabbed its neck from behind and tried to strangle it, the second pummeled its head with a crude club that looked like an adventurer's thighbone, and the third gnawed its ankles ferociously. The unequal fight was over in less than a minute, and the stalkers performed a little victory dance on the shredded remnants of their enemy.

"See, Hussu?" Dagoth Ru said. "It's all going the way it should."

Hussu and Ru were standing on a small hillock near the Gate, and the eery red light played on their faces. Hussu was wearing an iron helmet and clenched the hilt of a broadsword, and Dagoth Ru was carrying a lunchbox that reeked of corprus meat and kwama eggs with dubious dates of expiry. Rararyn Radarys was running here and there across the clearing, shouting commands to the cliff racers.

Hussu sighed and disregarded his master's smug comments. He drew a deep breath. "First batallion, enter gate!" he yelled. The ash and corprus creatures who had been securing the area howled madly and threw themselves into the red, fiery swirl. Within seconds they were all gone.

"Water batallion, follow them!", Hussu shouted. Two Lame Corpruses - or, Hussu pondered briefly, were they Corpri? - dragged themselves and a huge pushcart towards the portal. In the cart there was a big barrel, filled to the rim with water from Weynon Priory's well. That had been Dagoth Ru's idea when Hussu had worried about Flame Atronachs who, reportedly, were found on the planes of Oblivion and were highly dangerous enemies. The plan to douse these beings with water and make them go out was, Hussu thought, so zany that it might even work.

As soon as these deformed beings were gone, Hussu yelled "Rararyn, bring in the racers!" and ducked quickly. A fluttering of wings broke out, and then half a dozen manned cliff racers shot narrowly over Hussu's and Ru's head and plunged themselves into the gate. It was a really impressive sight, and Dagoth Ru clapped enthusiastically. "Good, good!" he crowed. Rararyn gave him a tired look from below his enormous, umbrella-like Dwemer helmet, which looked suspiciously like half a shell of a Centurion spider. Then he followed through the gate to see what his fosterlings were doing.

"Well, that leaves us three", said Hussu and looked at Ru and Brother Piner, who had been cowering in front of them all the time, trembling with fear. He patted Piner's back. The monk stared right through him and said "Piner want go home" with a very whiny voice.

"Not yet, I'm afraid", answered Hussu. Then he took a deep breath. "Well then, let's go", he forced himself to say, and he, Dagoth Ru and the babbling monk stepped through the fiery doorway.

There was a lot of swirling, flickering and general chaos. Lights danced in front of Hussu's eyes as the universe folded and wrapped itself around him in a way it was, surely, never meant to do. Then a harsh sound hurt his ears, and the gate spewed Hussu Zainamussushashunummi into the realm of Oblivion.

A desolate landscape greeted him. Black, jagged towers rose into a menacingly red sky. Rocks, half-molten and twisted into eery shapes, were scattered all over the charred and barren land. The ground was warm and reeked of sulphur. Heads rotted on sticks. In short, it looked like the Red Mountain would have looked if someone gave it a good spring-cleaning. Hussu had expected to land in the middle of a fierce battle, but it was surprisingly quiet. He could see none of the ferocious Daedra that had to be here, somewhere. The ash and corprus creatures stood around a bit sheepishly and looked at Hussu for orders. The cliff racer batallion circled above their heads. Piner moaned and pulled his robe over his head until Hussu slapped him and told him to stop.

"Look at this!" Dagoth Ru exclaimed. "Isn't this absolutely beautiful?" He walked over to a little patch of black soil, on which some yellow flowers grew. As he bowed down to pick one, it emitted a cloud of greenish gas that engulfed Ru's head. "Oooh", Ru said and sniffed. "Whaaata looovly..." Suddenly, he seemed to have trouble speaking and coordinating his movement. In slow motion he staggered towards a rock with a big, twisted vine. Hussu hurried towards Ru to grab his arm, but it was too late. The harrada root swung and slapped Ru violently in the face. The bony Dagoth was swept off his feet, flew backwards through the air and landed with a thud on the rocky ground. "Ouch", he groaned. "Hussu!"

Hussu sighed, rolled his eyes and searched his pockets for bandages.

***

It was only a short walk from the gate to the highest tower, and they managed to bring their little army there almost intact. One ash slave had tripped over a rock, landed in a lava pool and immediately caught fire, but that was an acceptable loss. The land still was suspiciously devoid of enemies.

"Somewhere up there", said Dagoth Ru and pointed a finger to the top of the huge, black structure. One of his tentacles was bandaged and hung down limply. "That's where they keep the sigil stone. We get that, the gate closes and we're ready for lunch."

"I wonder if anyone is up there at all", Hussu murmured. "In the uppermost chamber, I mean." If he was a Daedric Lord guarding his realm, an aerial attack would probably not be the first thing he expected. Could it really be so easy? he asked himself. But he saw no reason not to try. He gave a sign to one of the cliff racers. It shrieked and flapped its wings, rising higher and higher towards the top of the tower.

Even down where Hussu was standing he could hear the buzzing sound of the fireball, shooting out of a window high up. The cliff racer shrieked again and spiralled down to the ground, leaving a trail of smoke behind. The unlucky ash slave on its back howled in terror. With a sickening, splashing sound they hit the ground right in front of Hussu. It smelled of burned plumes. The look on Rararyn's face was painful.

"Oh", said Dagoth Ru a bit helplessly. "Well."

"I guess we have to do it the hard way", Hussu murmured and looked at the tower's huge and extremely solid-looking door. A gentle slope led there from where Hussu was standing. "I wonder how these things can be opened? We should have brought a battering ram."

At this moment, someone bellowed a command from somewhere above, the door swung open with the unpleasant sound of metal scratching over stone, and a motley crew of Daedric monsters stormed out, howling, screaming and waving their weapons.

"See? One problem less", Dagoth Ru commented before he hastily retreated behind the bulk of the corprus creatures.

Hussu grinded his teeth. He lifted his broadsword and, as his minions stormed forward, looked over to Rararyn who had drawn his blade as well.

"This is exactly what I thought would happen", Rararyn shouted.

Hussu nodded. He had no time to count heads, but it was easy to see that the attackers were at least as numerous as Dagoth Ru's troops, and most of them looked decidedly healthier. And, above all, a large creature that seemed to consist of flying, swirling stones stood in the middle of doorway. Suddenly, the air seemed to crackle with electricity. This was not a Flame Atronach, Hussu thought. It was something far deadlier. He had heard of Storm Atronachs, but until this day he had never seen one. Still, it was immediately clear which category this being fell into. Then Hussu's attention was drawn towards a huge, muscular Dremora who stormed towards him, up the slope on which the intruders were standing, and he waved a large mace that looked extremely painful. Hussu waved back with is sword in a manner that, he hoped, looked not too foolish. Swing left, swing right, then stab, Hussu thought as he tried to recall his sword lessons which were too long gone. Swing left, swing right, then...

Something large and wooden thundered past Hussu. "What the..." he managed to gasp. Then a loud noise of splintering wood cut him short. A splash followed, then a violent flash of lightning and a burned smell that was worse, much worse than what the dead cliff racer had produced earlier.

A first Hussu was blinded by the sudden light. As his eyesight returned gradually, he noticed that the Dremora was lying in front of him in what appeared to be a puddle. He was twitching uncontrolledly.

Slowly Hussu put together what had happened. The pushcart, he thought. The cart with the water. Something, maybe an arrow, maybe a fireball, must have hit one of the Lame Corpruses. The creature had lost hold of the cart. The cart had careened down the slope, into the mass of Daedra, and the water barrel had, by pure chance, hit the Storm Atronach right on the kisser. Water had splashed everywhere - water, the one thing beings on a fiery plane were not prepared for. Dagoth Ru's troops, having the higher ground, had remained largely unharmed. But the Storm Atronach, before shorting itself out, had effectively electrocuted the bulk of its own troops.

"Dagoth Ru, you are a genius", murmured Hussu to himself. "Mad like a mudcrab, but a genius."

Then the ash creatures stormed forward, howling triumphantly, to finish off the few surviving, baffled Daedra.

4)

"Rending Halls", Rararyn Radarys gasped. "I know now why they're called Rending Halls. They're rending my patience."

"True", Hussu gasped, equally out of breath. He sat down next to Rararyn in a huge black corridor that was in no way different from the countless huge black corridors he had seen in the past hour. They had lead up, up and then, for a change, up. Hussu had thought the Red Mountain had been annoying to climb, but these ramps were far worse. And on top of that, behind every corner angry clannfears, Dremoras and scamps waited to hurl themselves at the intruders. There never had been any real danger since the Daedra's catastrophic defeat at the main gate, but it still was annoying. And every time one of these creatures took an ash slave or zombie with it, the number of Ru's fighters shrinked. They had lost one after the other, and Hussu started to have serious concerns. If these corridors went on for a while longer, Ru might run out of troops.

Dagoth Ru waddled up to them and sank down next to Hussu, utterly exhausted. "Okay... informal tactical meeting", he gasped. "What are we going to do?"

"Can't we ride on this one?" Hussu proposed with a look at Brother Piner. Dagoth Ru held him on a makeshift leash as the monk sang quietly to himself and grinned idiotically at a quite nondescript segment of the wall. "He would be useful for something. Really, I think we gave him an overdose of that brandy. He's of no use at all like that."

"Not a bad idea", grumbled Rararyn. Then he jumped to his feet. "Watch out!" he yelled. A Dremora had appeared from behind a corner and swung his mace threateningly. When he finally fell to the ground, two more corprus stalkers rolled down the corridor, looking even more mashed than usually, and in his head Hussu subtracted them from an already alarmingly small number.

"Piner, stop that", Hussu said wearily as the monk swaggered towards the dead Dremora.

"Oh, let him have his fun", Dagoth Ru said and opened his lunchbox. He stuffed a kwama egg into his face while Piner seemed to search something beneath the Dremora's armour. "What can possibly happen?"

Hussu blinked. "I think he found something", he said. "What is it?"

"Looks like a potion..." Rararyn suggested. The monk managed, after some attempts, to pull out the cork and drink whatever was inside. Then he suddenly stood up. The empty flask rolled towards Hussu, and he streched out a leg to stop it.

"Oh, no", he said as he had read the Daedric inscription.

"Right, oh no!", thundered Brother Piner. His once so jolly face was a mask of wrath. "A potion of Restore Intelligence! I had hoped it would be so. By the Nine! Where am I? How did I get here? What did you do to me?"

"Um, what do you remember?" Hussu asked carefully.

"Not much. But enough", Piner yelled. Then he became aware of the rope dangling from his neck. "A leash?" he screamed. "You were leading me on a leash into Hell itself? Ungodly sinners! May Akatosh strike you down!" He grabbed the Dremora's mace and waved it in a way that proved he indeed knew how to use weapons.

"This is getting worse and worse", groaned Hussu and grabbed his sword. "Does anyone know a spell to get this guy under control again? I would hate to kill him. I really liked the riding plan."

"That's my cue", Dagoth Ru said. "Out of the way, Hussu. Don't want this one to hit you." He waved his tentacles, then he waved his hands in the same pattern, then he chanted a few words, and a magic spark whizzed past Hussu. It grew, engulfed Brother Piner, then faded and disappeared. "There", Dagoth Ru commented smugly. "Tame like a guar again. My spell is not quite as powerful as the brandy, but it should suffice-"

"Ha!" Brother Piner shouted. "Your dark magic did not avail you, spawn of Hell! I still feel fine!"

Ru slapped with his hand against the area where normal people have a forehead. "Vivec!" he groaned. "Wrong spell. This one was-"

A loud thud interrupted him. Piner had taken a step back, up the corridor, to find a better fighting position. At this moment, a giant blade had descended from the ceiling, and suddenly there were two Brother Piners. Or rather, two half ones. Both halves looked at Hussu and Dagoth Ru with utter surprise and, Hussu thought, some accusation, before they collapsed to a shapeless bloody mess on the floor.

"-Drain Luck", Dagoth Ru finished the sentence.

"Well", said Hussu with a sigh, "come on then, everybody. We have a tower to climb."

And so they climbed.

***

Hussu had a hard time not to get murderous thoughts himself when they found out that the Rending Halls led to the Corridors of Dark Salvation, which differed from the former in nothing but the name. After those came the Dead Halls and then the Infinitely Annoying Corridors, or so Hussu called them. He had stopped bothering to read the door inscriptions. In the Yet More Ramps they lost their last ash slave to a number of spikes that suddenly sprung from the wall, and in the Too Many Dremora Hiding Places they lost their last corprus stalker to a hidden Dremora. And then, finally, they entered a room which looked different. A red dome that looked like it was made of skin covered most of the ground, and the fiery pillar they had seen now and then during their ascent shot through the roof into the sky. They had reached the top of the tower.

"Finally", gasped Hussu.

"I want back to my bridge", gasped Rararyn.

"Bhuuun", said their last ash zombie. Hussu was not sure if it was Zab. To him, they looked all alike.

"And there it is!" Dagoth Ru squeaked and did a little victory dance. He pointed at a glowing, round something in the middle of the fiery jet. "My sigil stone! Mine! Mine!" And he stormed past Hussu and the others, up the ramp that led towards his prize.

"Wait-" Hussu said. But his master did not heed him. Dagoth Ru vanished out of sight, and then Hussu heard him squeaking in a voice that reflected pure panic. "Help! Hussuuu!"

Mobilizing their last resources, Hussu, Rararyn and the ash zombie that was possibly Zab climbed the ramp. "We're coming!" Hussu gasped. "Hang on!"

They emerged on the topmost platform, and then Hussu had to restrain himself to not burst into laughter. He had expected someone to guard the stone, probably the most fearful monster of them all. A mighty daedric warrior who would take out the rest of them and end this quest once and for all.

Instead, there was Dagoth Ru, standing with his back against a pillar, trembling in fear, and a little and quite stunted-looking scamp who pointed a rusty iron dagger to Ru's chest. "Not one step closer!" the scamp squeaked. "Or I'll stab him!"

Hussu and Rararyn halted. They lowered their weapons and held out their hands. "Okay", said Hussu. "Let's not do anything hasty. Let him go, and nobody gets harmed."

"Hussu, do something", sobbed Dagoth Ru in utter misery.

"I have a better idea", the scamp crowed. "You wait here. Surely by now the Lord Dagon himself will have noticed you're trespassing. He'll be sending reinforcements at this very moment. You'll be captured, and I'll be rewarded. I stopped you! I defeated you and saved the Stone, and with it, the opening to your world! The Lord will shower me with gold!"

Hussu looked at the boasting little creature and then at the Sigil Stone. Very slowly he made a step towards the fiery pillar. A moan from Dagoth Ru stopped him. "Don't even try it", the scamp hissed and pulled the dagger back again, after having pricked Ru quite painfully.

Suddenly Hussu felt very empty. "So that's it", he said and shook his head. "Sorry, but I've run out of plans. Let's wait for the reinforcements. If we beg a lot, maybe they won't torture us before we get killed." He sat down.

"Don't do that", Dagoth Ru sobbed. "Hussu, when they come, you'll grab the stone. He'll stab me and you'll be teleported out of here. Don't care for me. I will die a heroic death. Oh, to have been so close!" Tears ran down his tentacles and dropped to the ground.

"Wait a moment", Rararyn said and fingered his scar. "What do you need gold for anyway?"

"To buy!" the scamp squeaked. "I'm buying the tower! From top to bottom! I already own the whole Sigillum Sanguis. Oh, you should have seen the face of the Xivilai who used to live here when I showed him first the ownership documents and then the door..." He cackled maniacally. "I've been saving up for ages. I've been out there trading goods long before you were born. Coin by coin, I make a fortune. In two or three ages, the whole tower will be mine, and mine alone!"

Rararyn Radarys blinked with his good eye. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then he blinked once more. Finally he asked with a hoarse voice: "Creeper?"

"Do we know each other?" the scamp asked. "Wait... that scar... I seem to remember... the shoe guy?"

"Yes!" Rararyn said excitedly. "Hussu, remember what I told you. I kept walking around all day and over this annoying bridge. Oh, how many times I had to buy new shoes! But they were expensive. So I had to sell, piece by piece, my whole belongings to this scamp. He always made me a good price for the oldest... I mean, my valuable possessions. The best price."

"Oh yes!" crowed the scamp named Creeper. "One of my best customers. I owe you one. What about... Oh, I have an idea. When the reinforcements arrive, I tell them not to harm you. I'll protect you from them. You can be my personal slave and massage my ears every day. And clean the floor in here, and the entire tower once I own it. How do you like that?"

"I have a better idea", said Rararyn with a smile. "I - or rather, Dagoth Ru here - will sell you the tower."

Creeper blinked. "Uh..." he said. "What?"

"Yes", Rararyn added. "Think about it. We killed everyone else here. Thus we, de facto, own the tower. That is, until the reinforcements take it from us again. But until then, we can sell it to you. For a reasonable price. How high can the reward for us be? You'll still be out there peddling rusty shovels for thousands of years. But we are willing to sell you the entire tower! Instead of waiting two or three ages, you'll own it tonight!"

"Wait", Creeper said. He frowned. "You can't do that." He bit his lower lip. "Because, um..." He blinked again, having run out of other mimic ways to express puzzlement.

"We can", Rararyn said enthusiastically. "What will happen when we are captured? The portal to Cyrodiil is still open. This is important property in a war zone. Your Lord cannot afford to leave it unguarded. Before you know, you'll have Dremoras stationed here again, going on your nerves and making you ridiculous prices for their little chambers and corridor corners. But once we take the Stone and disappear, the portal closes. This Oblivion region becomes a dead end. Nobody will be interested in it anymore. Nobody will dispute your ownership. You will be able to rule here for all eternity."

Very slowly Creeper nodded. "Yes..." he said.

"You really should be thankful", Rararyn said with a stern voice. "I think the least you can do is to make us a good price for the tower. Look at it!" He banged his fist against the wall. "It's quality stonework. You won't find a better tower anywhere. I think it should be worth at least... say... five thousand. Right, Hussu?"

"Oh", Hussu said. He had listened to the whole exchange with his mouth wide open. "Yes. Yes, of course."

Creeper put down the iron dagger and took out a purse. "I still don't really understand it", he murmured. "There's a hole in your logic somewhere. But I can't find it, so..." He poured the content of the purse into Rararyn's pocket. Dagoth Ru sighed in relief and sank to the floor with a broad smile.

"Now, how to get the Stone out of this fire-" Rararyn mused.

"Oh, I can help there", Hussu said and handed him a weird-looking piece of metal. "I've been carrying these calipers around for a while. Never had any real use for them. Why are they being made anyway?"

"Perfect", said Rararyn.

5)

Outside Chorrol, the city of stones in western Cyrodiil, and very close to the old priory they called Weynon, there was a little patch where the wood left an opening and cliff racers dozed in the treetops over white tents. There was also an unhappy old man named Valus Odiil who cried and mourned his sons, but nobody paid attention to him.

"I still don't understand why it was necessary to hit Creeper over the head with the hilt of your sword, Rararyn", said Hussu as they walked towards the clearing.

Rararyn grinned. "Think it through, Hussu", the haggard Dunmer said. "No matter who owns which tower, we closed an Oblivion gate, and this is a big blow for Mehrunes Dagon and his war plans. He will not be happy when he learns that Creeper let us go. Now that poor little guy can at least show off his bump and claim we outsmarted him and knocked him down. Which is, technically, not a lie."

Hussu nodded. "I see", he said.

"Well, now this is finished, what about lunch", said Dagoth Ru. He had almost regained his usual merriness. "And then we mount these cliff racers and get the Vivec home to Vvardenfell."

"What about the fame and fortune?" Hussu asked. "Shouldn't we, I don't know, get some parades and flowers and medals and hot Argonian girls?"

"No time for that", Ru said haughtily. "I've got what I came here for. Here, take a look." He handed Hussu his lunchbox. Something glowed on top of it, and the simple metal box suddenly made a very magical impression.

Hussu stared at his master. He had the feeling everyone loved to confuse him lately. "You attached the Sigil Stone... to your lunchbox?" he managed to asked.

"Yes, why not?" chuckled Dagoth Ru. "That's my most important possession, isn't it? But look what it does. No, not you, Hussu. I mean Rararyn. Describe Hussu while he holds that box."

Rararyn frowned. "Hm, there's something different about you, Hussu", he said. "You look... good. Impressive. Trustworthy. My best friend. I suddenly have the urge to give you a present. Here, would you like some of Creeper's gold?"

"Uh, yes, thanks, but..." said Hussu and gave the lunchbox back to Ru. Immediately Ru seemed to change. He looked friendlier. He still was a tentacled monster, but now he was a tentacled monster that children would have loved to have as their grandfather, to sing them lullabies and tell them stories.

"Oh, no", Hussu said and laughed. "Of all Oblivion gates in the world, with all the mighty Sigil Stones that give you unlimited strength, make you as wise as a mage or destroy your foes with a flash of lightning, we choose the one with a Stone that fortifies your personality?"

"But of course!" Ru exclaimed. "Why did you think I chose this gate from the beginning?"

Hussu threw his arms over his head. "Okay, I give up", he said. "Would you please, please tell me what this is all about?"

"Oh, that's easy to explain", Dagoth Ru said. "Have you ever been to Suran?"

"Yeees..." Hussu said slowly.

"Desele's establishment?" Ru asked. "I tell you, there is a girl... when she dances for the guests, Hussu, the ash storms cease and all stars dance in the sky." An expression crept over his mangled face which Hussu had never seen before on his master. "Last time I went there, I tried Telvanni bug musk, Hussu. Still when I put down my hood, she ran out of the room screaming. This is why I'll play it safe this time. I'll use bug musk, a Charm spell and my Lunchbox of Charisma at the same time. And then I'll ask her out for dinner. Hussu, my friend, this time it will work. I feel it!"

Hussu sighed deeply. Then they took the short walk over to Chorrol, to see if the pubs were still open.

© Bqggz 2008