In slightly higher spirits than was perhaps normal, the Sellswords took off for the south, making good time through the Pale. It was late afternoon by the time they had gotten moving, however, so for the first night the group was forced to make camp just past the crossroads between Whiterun and Windhelm. The road to Ivarstead was long, and the possibility of catching the Pact low. She had already gained a day's advantage and more, and was presumably unburdened by the lingering fatigue that plagued some of the Sellswords.
They continued south the next morning, arriving under the shadow of the hill upon which the city of Whiterun stood by midday, and turning east at the crossing over the White River. After a brief rest at the Ritual standing stone, at the request of Maya, they continued on, following the course of the river east, bending south as it did, passing into the southern reaches of Eastmarch until the road split again, and the group followed the Darkwater River south instead.
The day ended with the Sellswords camping under the mountains separating them from Shor's Stone and Riften, just after crossing the Darkwater. They pushed through to the final part of the journey the following morning, turning southwest and climbing until they reached the crossing over the Treva River and Lake Geir. Ivarstead was just a short ways further along, a small town sitting under the shadow of the massive mountain peak known as the Throat of the World.
There was no sign of the Pact, the Horizon, or any of the train of warriors that were following them, along the entire route to Ivarstead, but that was not unexpected. They could have even taken another route, as there were several methods of reaching the Throat of the World from that far away. Maya had thought to take the group through Riverwood and down through Falkreath Hold before bending around, but decided the temptation to visit home again would have been too great, and they couldn't afford the delay. They'd lost a great deal of time already. The Pact had surely already reached this place, though she was not yet dead, that much Maya knew. If she had already attacked the Webspinner, and succeeded, she could not know.
"Suppose we should try the inn first," Maya suggested, and the eight of them pulled their horses to a stop before the rest stop, the Vilemyr Inn, as the sign pointed out.
The Shade was found sitting at the bar when they entered, but upon seeing the Sellswords arrive, he immediately rose and headed towards them.
"Took you long enough," he muttered, though he seemed to be at least trying to contain his disdain for their tardiness.
"The Pact and the Horizon passed through yesterday, and will have found the entrance to my mother's lair by now. No more waiting. We'll plan on the way." He made his way through them before all of them had even entered the bar, and led the way back out into the street.
He scowled at the sunlight, but ignored it, raising his hood and carrying on.
"The Pact arrived, and yet you seem unhurt. How did she slip past you?" Soren personally could really have used a drink, but when it became readily apparent that they were not going to be stopping for one at the inn, he shrugged and unhooked the flask from his belt, taking a nip of the strong liquid inside before offering it to Lynly with a raised brow, largely expecting her to decline. She didn't, taking a quick draught before handing it back to him. Tucking it away again, he kept walking, for all intents and purposes undisturbed by the hurried nature of their departure.
âHow else? Deception. The Horizon had led this lot to believe that he wanted the Pact just as dead as they did. Sadly, he locked us in a ruin instead. As if we were just going to sit there and wait until it was convenient for them to kill us.â Realistically, it was probably just a delay tactic, but even that was only just effective, and it was about to come back to bite themâ
hard, if the more vengeance-inclined in the group had their way.
âIâm guessing the matriarch is not up the mountain,â he hazarded,
âWhich means weâre going in?â More caves, probably, though he supposed the entrance to a lair could also indicate a building somewhere on the mountain. It seemed unlikely, however, given who they were dealing withâŠ
"Yes," the Shade responded.
"The entrance is around the base of the mountain, perhaps an hour from here if we move quickly. From there we'll enter the caves, and follow them down." He made no comment about the deception. It was possible that he had already guessed as much, considering the Horizon's arrival alongside the Bosmer. It was also possible that it didn't matter anymore, and they had more pressing issues to worry about, like how to move ahead.
The Shade led them to the edge of Ivarstead, taking the dirt road down the hill rather than the bridge that would lead them to the seven thousand steps up to High Hrothgar. It was a steep decent, but he moved quickly.
"The Pact will have reached her by now. She still lives, Maya?" The witch answered in the affirmative.
"Then we do not know what to expect. She could have been captured. A captive hunter is better than a dead one in this game, my mother would know as much. She could also be waiting for a better moment to strike. Assaulting the Webspinner in her own lair, surrounded by her servants, is not wise." "It sounds like there's a particular reason for that," Anirne ventured mildly, following the steep slope with a little more caution than the Shade took, though she was no old woman yet, and kept her balance quite well.
"Perhaps there is something we should know?" She recalled that the Pact had been reluctant to speak overmuch of the Webspinner, and she was guessing there was more to that than a simple desire to keep potential foes from information. In fact,
nobody had said much of her, save that she was mad. Perhaps Maya had said more to someone else, but she knew the group at large was not well-informed about what they were dealing with. Stealthy guerillas were one thing-- if the altmer had her guess, this Representative and her
servants were quite another.
"Are you familiar with Spider Daedra?" the Shade asked.
"Priestesses of Mephala warped into her image. In this cave they will be at their deadliest. The spiders can move quickly through their holes, dropping down behind you for an attack before retreating just as quickly. They aren't physically overpowering, but in their own environment they will outmaneuver us. They'll fight from range with debilitating poisons and lightning, only risking close quarters after their opponent has been weakened. My mother has hundreds of them at her disposal in her caverns." He glanced back towards the Psijic woman and the rest of the party.
"Aside from that, it will be extremely dark, almost impossible to see without magical means. They will try to separate us if we fight them in there. Anyone who becomes cut off from the others will not last long. As for my mother herself..." He turned back to the path in front of them, taking the group into a rocky region, vaulting over low boulders and using the trees to steady himself.
"She is faster than all of her brethren, and significantly more powerful. To engage her on her own ground would be to seek death. She must be drawn out." "And how do we do that?" Drayk asked. The Shade glanced back at him, giving him a knowing look.
"Burning her out would be one way." Drayk frowned, and shook his head.
"I couldn't burn out an entire network of tunnels, not without... no, I'm not doing that." A few days ago he would have willingly offered to let himself go and scorch the spider from her hole, but now, with what he had to protect, and the risks to the happiness he had only so recently found... he wouldn't do it. There would be another way.
"And besides," Maya offered,
"We can't kill the Webspinner until we kill the Pact, and we can't kill her until we find her." The Shade nodded.
"That's true. And I have a feeling that we'll find her once we draw my mother out. In the meantime, the priority must be the Mentor. This is where I took him, so this is where we'll have the best chance of finding him. We don't need to go in there with the intention of killing everything we see." âSeems a fair notion,â Adrienne replied neutrally. She was in fact immensely relievedâsomething had constricted uncomfortably in her insides as soon as burning was mentioned, and had not relented until Domâs firm denial. Good, that was good. There were bound to be alternative ways of getting what they wanted, and though she did not know what a spider Daedra looked like, the troubled frown that creased Anirneâs face was more than enough reassurance that she really didnât want to encounter one, much less
all hundreds of them. She had the distinct feeling that this was going to be just as much a nightmare as what Rialta had put them through⊠only this time, there would be no waking up when it was over.
She noted the part about staying together with some unease. She didnât doubt the truth of what Tarquin said, not even a bit, but that was the worrisome part. It sounded like they were dealing with a warren of tunnels entirely unknown to themâthe chance of someone getting cut off by accident or canny foe was great, especially if they were ambushed. They would need light, butâŠ
âUnfortunate, that being able to see will also make us that much more easily seen.â It was an advantage she did not think they could forgo, however. The creatures within would have adapted to the dark, and with the exception of Tarquin and Sinder, the rest of them would probably be twice as vulnerable without their eyes.
It was clear that only one who knew of this place would be able to find its location, as the Shade led the Sellswords seemingly at random around the side of the mountain, sometimes down, over streams running down its side, over boulder-strewn hillsides and along sheer cliffs. After around an hour of trekking through the wilderness, they came upon it.
It didn't look hardly any different from any other cave, seemingly just a hole in the side of the mountain face, slapped onto a steep hillside dotted with large rocks, thick trees and dense foliage. Behind them some ways was a cliff of some thirty feet, a small stream running over it and falling into a small pool that had gathered at the bottom. This ran eventually to join with the Darkwater some ways to the northeast. They weren't quite high enough to be standing in snow, but the sky had become overcast at this point, darkening their surroundings somewhat, and threatening snow.
The scenery was utterly still, the mouth of the cave seeming to beckon them in.
"This is the place," the Shade said, pointing out the obvious.
Sinderion sniffed at the air, and his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.
âThe Pactâs warriors are definitely around,â he said quietly.
âBut the smell is faint.â It could be a day or two old, by now, and there was nothing precise in the odor to tell him the locations of any of them, so as a warning it was likely just telling everyone what they already expected.
Soren, absently tracing his new scar, raised a red eyebrow.
âFour, possibly five representatives. And thatâs assuming your wild wolf-cat doesnât show up. Sounds fun. Is there a plan for this death-revel, or are we just going to improvise?â He sounded rather like heâd be completely fine with improvising, but then that was probably expected by this point. He doubted there would be much to planâthey simply didnât know much about what they were in for, or in what order. They had to kill the Pact before they killed the Webspinner, but minions were fair game for anyone, including the Shade, who was probably the only person guaranteed
not to die in this mess. Assuming Jaâkaro hadnât tracked him here, of course. It was all so deliciously possible.
âWhat could we possibly plan for?â Adrienne asked, half-rhetorically.
âWe know nothing about how the tunnels and caves are laid out, nor where inside anyone might be.â It was a bit hopeless as far as plans went, and maybe that was for the best. If they werenât committed to any course of action, they would be more adaptable to the situation as it changed.
âWeâll need your ears and nose, Sinder.â She managed a half-smile for her altmer friend, but then she suspected he already knew that. Anirne remained silent, staring into the entrance as though contemplating something. She offered no verbal contributions, though.
In the end, they had no choice but to blindly march forth, with the intention of first, finding the Mentor, and second, driving the Webspinner from her hole somehow, so that the Pact might be driven from hers, and both of them might be slain. The Shade led the way up the hill and into the mouth of the cave, the Sellswords at his back.
The immediate interior did not open up, as some of Skyrim's caves did, but instead remained narrow and low, as though they were indeed passing through some kind of throat, being swallowed by the world itself, and immediately it became very dark, such that magical light was required to see much of anything. The walls were still stone and rock, but as they progressed their boots began to stick ever so slightly on each step.
"It will branch off in several directions soon," the Shade warned.
"Follow my lead. Do not attack what you see unless attacked first." Drayk shifted his shield slightly higher up his arm, face locked in a constant frown as his eyes darted about, convinced they were about to be set upon from all sides. But they were still together, and together they were a powerful force.
Several paths opened up to them, as the Shade predicted, but Tarquin ignored them, staying to the center. Some of them were wide enough to fit all of the Sellswords, others little more than holes in the wall that they'd need to crawl to pass through. The webbings covering the walls and floor were becoming thicker here, their steps sticking more effectively. The light occasionally caught a spider as large as a hand along the sides of the walls, but they darted along the webs and into a hole as soon as the light touched them.
Holes began appearing overhead as well, large enough for bodies to pass easily through. The Shade seemed to have an idea of where he was going, but even he had slowed, either due to trying to remember the way, or from the stickiness of the walls and the floors and everything around them. Drayk's scowl deepened. This would make movement difficult. Yet another disadvantage. As if a lack of sight wasn't enough.
At last Tarquin held up his hand, indicating for the Sellswords to halt.
"Something comes." They could hear it now, clearly, the scuttling, a tapping on the wall, clicks against the hard rock of the wall in between the increasingly frequent webs.
"She wants to be heard," the Shade informed them, indicating that the Webspinner's priestesses were quite capable of approaching
without sound if they chose to.
She drew into the light slowly, uncomfortable with it at first. Two spined, hairy legs pushed themselves forward, testing it. Six others followed, and a creature that was an even split between woman and spider came into the eerie glow of the magelight. She was no greater in height than Tarquin was. The human part of her ended at the waist, and shifted to spider, spindly, muscled legs carrying the light body. She did not look physically imposing in a powerful sense, but there was a strength in the legs, at least, that implied a great amount of agility, especially in these warrens they called home.
Her body from the waist up was entirely naked, her hair disgustingly greasy and falling in ragged clumps about her skin, which was pale as a corpse. Her fingernails were several inches long on both hands, and looked as deadly as knives. Her face was largely hidden by her mess of hair, only cracked lips and brown teeth visible. Her hands clutched, of all things, a shortbow, made of some kind of black, gnarled wood, the string unsurprisingly wound of spider's silk. A small quiver of arrows was belted around her waist. She looked at none of the Sellswords, not that they could see her eyes, but her head was angled downwards all the same.
"The mother sends me to welcome the children," she rasped.
"She knows why you come, and she will speak, if you will hear." Not a particularly inviting welcome, is it? Soren thought, just stifling the snicker that threatened. It was probably wisest to keep his mouth shut, and though honestly he rarely gave thought to what was
wisest, he wasnât exactly here for himself, so he wouldnât snipe at the creature and ruin the Sellswordsâ chances at finding the man they so desperately needed to see. He could see through the cast of the light that Blue was actually looking a little
green about the gills, and it wasnât that hard to guess why. The air was stale, and that creature
looked filthy. He didnât really want to think about how it smelled to someone with a wolfâs nose.
Unfortunately, Sinder didnât get that luxury, and the stench was almost enough to put him on his back, as though it had slammed into him like a wall. Not that the sight of her was nay better. Heâd not encountered a spider Daedra before, and he was now absolutely certain that if this was the last one he saw, heâd still have seen one too many. He also had the distinct feeling that he wasnât going to like the Webspinner much, if her servants looked like this one did. He attempted to take a breath through his mouth, but abruptly clicked his jaw shut again when he discovered that the stench was thick enough to
taste. This was worse than the entire village full of dead orcsâat least that had been outside, not in a cramped warren of caves with scarcely any circulation. He wasnât so sure at all that the others would be able to rely on him to sniff out the Pact and her minions; not if everything down here was this bad.
Adrienne was torn between shock and disgust, but thankfully, she was able to
not look like it. A quick glance at Sinderion revealed that he might be ill, but he seemed to be keeping himself in check all right. Soren didnât appear to have changed much, but he wasnât talking, which was admittedly a bit abnormal for him. Anirne was placid as ever, as though sheâd been expecting something of this nature. Maybe sheâd seen a spider Daedra before, who knew? Adrienne glanced at the Shade, almost as though for confirmation, but this is what theyâd come for, after all: to talk to the Webspinner and find out where the Mentor was, what had happened to him.
If they were lucky, they would trip over the Pact and Horizonâs bodies on the way. If not⊠well, that was a problem theyâd deal with when it showed itself.
âWe will,â she said, inclining her head politely, though she was unsure if the creature could even see it. The magelight bobbing about above her head cast the room into an odd relief, and distorted the shadows in the room a bit. If anything, it gave the Priestess an even more menacing aspect, one that the Breton tried gamely to ignore.
âBut where are we to go?âNeither Vanryth nor Lynly made any move toward their weapons, both just crossing their arms and waiting to be led around like puppies. Though quite different, both had come to expect the worst out of every situation. And though one welcomed the worst with open arms and a naked blade, the other wondered how it would try to tear his little family apart that day. Neither were the optmistic sort. Lynly added nothing but a sigh, the thought of heading deeper into the spider's nest not a pleasing one. She believed that the allegory of a fly trapped in a web was an apt one, but one that they couldn't avoid. So she resigned herself.
"Down," she answered definitively, as if it provided adequate directions in this place,
"into the hollow, where the mother awaits. She has but two conditions..." from down the tunnel, and from behind the Sellswords, other spider sisters made their approaches known, until there were a dozen at least, on each side, the majority of them remaining out of reach of the light.
"First," the envoy rasped,
"the blood of the mother is to remove himself from this place." At that, the Shade quite literally growled his displeasure.
"Why? Why won't she let me see her?" But the spider sister recoiled and shook her head.
"We are to inform you only of the mother's intentions and her conditions. She will speak to those she wishes, and no more. The blood of the mother is to leave now." Tarquin ran a hand through his hair, looking like he might try pulling it out. He turned to the others.
"I guess I don't have a choice. You'll have to go in without me. I will await your return outside." With that, he made his way through to the back of the group and vanished into the darkness behind them, the spider sisters stepping out of his way as he went. Drayk took a deep breath to steady himself. There went their guide out if this went south.
"And the other condition?" he asked. At that, the spider sister raised herself up high enough on her legs so that she could angle her abdomen towards the group, the end of which presented the mucus-like substance that would form webbing.
"The mother will not have you walk to her. You shall be delivered, or you shall not see her at all. That is the condition." At that, Maya groaned rather loudly.
"You want to wrap us like some meal to be taken to your lady?" The spider sister's silence answered in the affirmative.
âOh, Oblivion no,â Soren deadpanned, staring at the priestess with a look that rather demanded to know if she thought she was serious. Making themselves vulnerable like that was
insane.
âBad idea, people. I for one do not want to get eaten, thank you.â He also didnât want to be useless in a cave full of representatives and their flunkies, and he
definitely didnât want to have to rely on Sparky to potentially
burn them out, considering the wary looks heâd occasionally seen the others throwing his fire. This was a shitty idea, and he was going to make sure they knew he thought so.
Sinderion was quieter about it, but he couldnât help agreeing.
âSurely she must understand our position.â he said. If the Pact got killed while they were being transported, well, that meant Maya was about to be delivered, largely helpless, incapacitated, to the very heart of her next targetâs lair, where the Webspinner would be completely free to kill her. Even
that estimation of the situation somehow assumed that the womanâs intent was honest, and that she wouldnât kill the Sellswords just for being there. StillâŠ
âThere may be no other choice.â The words tasted like ash and dust on his tongue.
âIf she does understand our position, then she knows weâre not in one where we get to make demands,â Anirne replied to her brother. She eyed the sticky substance with obvious trepidation. There was absolutely nothing about this situation that she liked. Sheâd been attempting to keep track of exactly which passages Tarquin used on the way in, and she may have a decent guess as to how to get back out again, she really didnât want to count on it, but with the Shade forced to leave them, they hardly had a choice. Though honestly her visceral reaction was not so different from Sorenâs, she didnât express it as such.
Adrienne nodded her agreement. She wanted to ask
why this was necessary, but the way theyâd responded to Tarquin, she knew she had precious little chance of trying to fish the information out of them.
âWhat do the rest of you think?â she asked. It was not lost on her that Maya was probably in more danger than the rest of them, but she also knew that the woman would refuse to leave with the Shade⊠which honestly may be just as safe as being alone with him, really.
"I think this sucks," Drayk said honestly. As far as the Sellswords went, they were effectively placing their lives in the hands of someone whose own son claimed to be insane. The witch was the only one who had any measure of protection, and the witch was the one Drayk was probably least concerned about in this group. He'd be able to burn his way out of a web wrapped around him quickly enough, but he wouldn't do that for the others. He wouldn't risk that. They'd be counting on the mercy of a woman who led a sisterhood of
spiders, of all things. And if the Pact somehow died, they would hardly even be able to count on that much. But the Mentor could possibly be in here.
The speaker had called them the children. Surely the Webspinner took an interest in them because the Mentor had found them and trained them. The Shade had taken an interest in them for the same reason. They wanted to see something from them, was that it? It wasn't much of a hope, but wasn't it worth going on? For the chance of finding what they'd been seeking all this time?
"If this is what it takes to reach the Mentor, though, we have to do it." "Do not resist," the spider sister warned, moving closer to them.
"We will deliver you to the mother unharmed, as is her wish."