//------------------------------// // Chapter 78: Roots and Remedies // Story: The Equine Scrolls: SkyFiM // by FireOfTheNorth //------------------------------// Chapter LXXVIII: Roots and Remedies “Vampirism tends to keep one remarkably . . . fresh.” Following dappled pegasus customs, Darkfeather was cremated that night, burned until nothing remained of her but ash. After the ceremony, her ashes were placed in an urn in Dragonsreach, where they would sit until the end of days, a reminder of the pony who had sacrificed herself to save the Jarl. Once Whitetrot was repaired, the Jarl also intended to have a statue erected of her in the square, next to the statue of Talhooves. Whitetrot had won the battle, but the city would never be the same. It had only just been recovering fully from the Imperial attack, and now the city was in ruins again. Houses and businesses would have to be rebuilt, and the rubble and bodies would have to be cleared from the streets. We set about the latter task immediately, and by the end of the day we were completely exhausted. I slept soundly at first, but around the middle of the night, I found myself rising from my bed. I had a lot on my mind and got up to take a walk. This attack, all the destruction that had come to this city, it was because of me and Stratus’s obsession with killing me. Would I bring death to this city again? Stratus seemed different than the last two times I had spared her. Perhaps this time she’d really changed and wouldn’t come back, but I wasn’t counting on it. The truth was, as long as this war went on, whatever town I was in would be in danger. Jarl Stormcloud had sent more soldiers to garrison the town, at least. Fresh warriors patrolled the streets now, allowing the exhausted ponies who’d helped defend the city get their much-needed rest. I passed a few as I trotted through the town, and they waved a greeting. I was, after all, becoming very well known throughout Horizon. As I trotted through the small group of houses in the market district, near Breezehome, I spotted a guard patrolling all on his own. He didn’t see me yet, so I snuck up on him, getting closer as I kept to the shadows. Before I knew what was happening, a haze descended over my vision, and I began to actively hunt the soldier. His ears pricked up as I neared him, and he began to turn toward me. Before he could spot me, I shot him with a paralyzing spell, dropping him to the cobblestones. I pounced upon his unconscious body, sinking my fangs into his neck and draining him of his blood. As my thirst was sated, I withdrew my fangs from him and wiped the dribbles of blood from my muzzle. My body began to twist back into its natural form, my fangs drawing back up into my teeth and my horn returning to normal. The haze left my vision and my mind cleared as I realized I had just fed on another pony. I turned away in disgust from what I’d done, and dragged his body out of sight before returning to Breezehome. This had to end, soon. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ “Where is this place anyway?” Steadfast asked as we trotted down the path west of where Foalkreath had once stood. “The Dark Brotherhoof Sanctuary’s nearby,” I promised him, “It’s kept hidden to all but members, though. You’re going to have to wait outside for me, I’m afraid.” “You think she’ll know the cure?” Mephalda asked as she flew overhead and looked out for trouble. “She might,” I said, “Hemlock’s the only vampire I know. If she doesn’t know some way to cure vampirism, at least she should be able to help me get it under control.” As I saw things, this was my last chance to cure the disease. Otherwise, I intended to take Star-Swirl’s advice and live with my vampirism. I hoped Hemlock would be able to offer me some tips on how to keep it from controlling my actions, or else I’d have to stay outside of towns for fear of striking innocent ponies. I left Mystic, Mephalda, and Steadfast on the path a little ways down from the Sanctuary and trotted the rest of the way on my own. The door recognized me as I pressed my hoof against it, and it opened, letting me inside. The Sanctuary was quiet as I trotted down into it, most of the assassins gone or sleeping. Fortunately, I was able to find Hemlock right away, sitting in a side passage. “What brings you back to us, Dark Sister?” Hemlock asked in an eerily chilly voice. Would I sound like that someday? “Actually,” I said, “I’ve come to speak to you.” “You have contracted vampirism,” she replied before I could say so, “Don’t be alarmed. A vampire as ancient as me can smell the disease on a fellow creature of the night.” “Right,” I said, trying not to be creeped out that she could smell my vampirism, “Anyway, I was wondering, since you’re a vampire as well, did you ever look for a cure?” “I did, many years ago,” Hemlock admitted. “But you never found one,” I said. “Actually, I did,” Hemlock said, “But the cure only treats those who have only begun to tread the path to vampirism. I was too far along, and it did not work on me.” “How long can you have had vampirism before it doesn’t work?” I asked, hopefully, “Could I be cured?” “Yes,” Hemlock said, sizing me up, “You’ve not yet taken on your permanent vampiric form. You could still purge the disease from your system.” “So, what’s the cure?” I asked. “I can’t say for sure,” Hemlock replied, “There’s only one pony who knows how to brew it, an alchemist named Fleethoof in Winterhorn.” Suddenly my hopes plummeted. Winterhorn had been attacked twice, once by the Mages Guild and once by the Pegasari Air Fleet. Who could say if this Fleethoof still lived? Well, there was only one way to find out for sure. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ I left the Sanctuary immediately and joined up with my friends before heading up to Winterhorn. I really hoped that Fleethoof was still alive; he was my last chance to cure my vampirism. If he couldn’t help me, I’d have to return to Hemlock and find a different way to deal with my vampirism. I had no idea where I could find Fleethoof, so when we reached Winterhorn, I asked. Thankfully, he was still alive, though his house had been destroyed in the First Battle of Winterhorn. I was told he could be found in Winterhorn’s inn, The Frozen Hearth. As we entered, I spotted him right away, an elderly stallion sitting by himself. As we trotted over to him, the inn’s bard began a new song that caught my ear. “Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior’s heart.” “I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes.” “With a voice wielding power of ancient earth pony art.” “Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes.” “It’s an end to the evil of all Horizon’s foes.” “Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes.” “For the darkness had passed, and the legend yet grows.” “You’ll know, you’ll know, the Dragonborn comes.” As the bard finished singing, we reached the table. “Are you Fleethoof?” I asked, and the elderly stallion slowly looked up at me. “Yes; why do you ask?” he asked suspiciously. “I was told you found a cure for vampirism,” I told him, sitting down at the table across from him. “Many years ago, yes,” he said, “When I was still a young stallion. I’m afraid if you’re looking for me to fix up a batch for you though, you’re out of luck.” “Why?” I asked. “It is a very difficult potion to make and requires an ingredient I do not have. The Crimson Nirnroot; it grows only in Underkeep, the great city of the Minotaurs. I’m afraid I am too weak to make the journey anymore.” “Well, we could do it,” I said, “We’ll get you everything you need.” “Just the four of you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “No, the Minotauran defenses would chew you up.” “You might be surprised,” I said. After all, we’d done some pretty impossible things together. “Well, if you insist,” Fleethoof said with a sigh, “But it would take a miracle for you to get through that place alive. A journey to Underkeep is not something one undertakes lightly.” “So, where is this Underkeep?” I asked. “You’ve never heard of the great Minotauran kingdom beneath Horizon?” he said with a smile. “No,” I admitted as I pulled out my map, “Why, where’s it at?” “It is here,” he said, gesturing to a large portion of the map spanning from Winterhorn to Marethal, “Underkeep is the greatest of the Minotauran cities, stretching through a cavern several leagues across. But, if you want the easiest way in, you will have to pass through Bullftand, here.” “We’ll be back,” I promised the stallion as I examined the mark he’d placed on my map near Winterhorn. ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ ◊◊◊ Bullftand’s bronze towers reared up out of the snow as we approached, bearing testament to the Minotauran city that had once stood here. The city had certainly seen better days, as the bits that were exposed were in poor condition, crumbling away. With some difficulty, we found the door that led into Bullftand and headed down the empty halls, through which Minotaurs had once walked. Things were dark at first, and truly empty. It seemed that many expeditions had been here before to explore the ruin and had cleared out everything on the surface. Every chest we passed was empty, and light fixtures had been torn from the walls. Even the tables had no plates or Minotauran silverware on them, picked clean by archaeologists. As we passed deeper in, things suddenly changed. Two automatons rolled out of side passages as we headed toward the city’s steamworks. I drew Dawnbreaker, blocking the spinning blades mounted to the machine’s torso. Mystic blasted the other with ice, causing its joints to seize up, keeping it from swinging its weapons at her. Steadfast slammed his warhammer into the machine’s “head,” crushing it and causing bits of gears and crystals to fall from it. I ducked down as the automaton I was facing reversed the spin of its blades and swung for my head. I jammed Dawnbreaker up into its arm mechanism and caused the spinning to stop, sparks falling on my head as my blade ground against the gears. I drew my Changeling war axe and slammed it into the machine’s gem-eyes, shattering them and blinding it. I hooked my war axe around the automaton’s blade and drew Dawnbreaker back before slamming it through the head, causing the machine to tumble backwards. We began to trot down the hall again, until a blast of lightning shot past the side of my face, singing my cheek. We ducked behind steam pipes as the blasts continued, sending the deadly bolts bouncing off the machinery. Peeking around the pipe, I caught sight of our attacker, an automated turret mounted to the ceiling. I shot ice spikes at it, drawing its attention, while Mephalda jumped out and shot an arrow right into the gem it was shooting lightning from, destroying it. We continued down the hall, passing among the hissing pipes, and rounded a corner. We immediately backed up as a Minotauran death-clanker came into view. The monstrous automaton charged down the hall, firing its massive bolts at us and damaging the steam pipes. <<>> I Shouted at the floor, coating it in ice. As the death-clanker came charging down the hall, it slipped on the ice and slid away from us, eventually falling to the ground. Mystic blasted magic at it as it tried to get up, knocking off one of its arms. Mephalda fired arrows repeatedly at the automaton, pinching shut one of the steam exhausts on its head. Steadfast smashed it in the head with his warhammer, shattering one of its gem eyes before it swatted at him and sent him sliding across the ice. The automaton clomped toward us, trying not to slip on the ice, and fired bolts in our direction, forcing us to keep our heads down. Mephalda flew up into the air, dodging among the hissing pipes as she fired arrows at the automaton’s other horn, trying to collapse it as well. Already the machine was overheating, its metal beginning to glow red hot as the single exhaust tried to keep up. When the exhaust was cut off entirely, things only grew worse, and steam began to leak from the machine itself. <> I Shouted, bathing the machine in dragon fire and assisting the overheating process. As the steam expanded, the automaton was torn apart, its body exploding in a burst of steam before falling to the ground. We stepped over the fallen machine, Mystic retrieving the soul gems that spilled out before we continued on. We really had no idea where we were going in Bullftand, but we just kept heading down and hoped it would eventually lead to Underkeep. In truth, we had no idea how large Bullftand actually was, and we were soon lost among the twisting passages. We stopped when we reached a large room, probably Bullftand’s Debate Hall. “This is ridiculous,” Steadfast said, “How are we supposed to find our way down to the city’s bottom. It could take days.” Days we didn’t have. I hadn’t packed a particularly large amount of food, and we couldn’t count on finding any down here. Also, judging by my previous pattern of vampirism, if we stayed down here more than a few days, it was sure to strike, and I’d end up feeding on one of my friends. There had to be an easier way to reach Underkeep. “We’ve got to keep heading down,” Mephalda said, “Maybe we’ll find a map.” “The Minotaurs didn’t use maps,” Mystic said, shaking her head, “At least, not the same way we did. They were good with directions, so the only maps they had would be used by newcomers.” “Well,” I said, “We’re in a Debate Hall. Surely they had guests come to debate from time to time. There may be a map around her somewhere. Look around.” We searched the Debate Hall, and the surrounding passages, but found no trace of a map. Perhaps the parchment had rotted away centuries earlier, or perhaps there were no maps to begin with. I did manage to find something, however. Outside of the Debate Hall was a small shop built into the wall where it seemed visiting Minotaurs could buy necessities. Within was a box of lexicons. Curious, I pulled one out and activated it. In front of me, a blast of red light suddenly jetted out from the lexicon before congealing. “Um, guys!” I called, “I think I found our map!” The red projections had formed a network of branching passages and rooms. Glowing Minotauran runes hovered around them, identifying what each area was. A small dot blinked within a large room near the middle of the city, and I assumed it was us. Following the passages, I found a route that would take us down to an exit at the bottom of Bullftand that was strangely labeled in both Minotauran and Equine: Underkeep. “Fascinating,” Mystic said, taking the cube from me, “A three-dimensional map that allows you to view the floor plans of every level of the city at once.” “Underkeep,” Steadfast said, staring at the map, “There’s a shortcut to reach it, a vertical tunnel that goes right past the ruin. We can bypass Bullftand entirely.” “Well, let’s get going then,” I said, “According to the map, the shortcut should be . . . this way.” We left the Debate Hall, following the bronze-filled hallways to the shortcut. Doors opened from up ahead and automatons rolled out. I sent a blast of lightning at one, wreaking havoc with its internal circuitry and causing it to fall, twitching, to the ground. The others turned toward us, spinning up their blades as they rolled down the hall. Mephalda shot an arrow through the head of one, shattering its gem eyes. A second arrow drove the first farther in, pushing the soul gem within the head out the back. Without its power source, the automaton fell over, blocking the path as the other machines tried to get at us. With their blades, they hacked apart their fallen comrade and once again rolled toward us. Mystic and I shot lightning at the advancing machines, but they continued to come, rolling over the ones we destroyed. Steadfast swung his warhammer down the line, smashing the eyes on all of them, leaving them blind. They swung about madly, nicking my earth pony companion’s hindleg as they searched for targets. <> I Shouted, melting their internal mechanisms. They began to seize up as the metal re-hardened. I drew Dawnbreaker and slashed them apart, clearing a path for us to pass through. One of them was fused to the floor, but its arm mechanisms still worked, and it swung a blade at me as I passed. I swung Dawnbreaker around, slicing the top of its head off and exposing all the circuits and wiring within. A few ice spikes finished it off. The spider-like mechanical workers skittered along the walls as we headed for the shortcut marked on the map. Mephalda shot them with her bow whenever they seemed to take an interest in us, and after a bit they began to leave us alone. At last we reached the vertical passage that cut through Bullftand. A bronze grate stood in our way, keeping us from stepping over the sheer edge and falling to our deaths. Steadfast pulled a nearby lever on the wall, and steam began to hiss from above us. The sound of gears met our ears as a platform descended, eventually settling into place at the same level as the floor we were standing on. The gates swung open as the lift came to a stop. “Fascinating,” Mystic marveled as we stepped onto the platform, “It’s amazing what the Minotaurs built, isn’t it?” “I wish they’d built more things like this, and less stuff that tries to kill you,” Steadfast commented as we all entered. I pulled the lever at the center of the platform, and the gates closed in front of us. The lift began to ascend, before I stopped and pulled the lever the other way, causing it to go down. I also held the map in front of me, watching as the tiny dot that represented us descended through the passage, nearing the gates to Underkeep. We were two levels from the bottom when the lift suddenly came to a halt. As it came to a stop, I was thrown off my hooves, and the map lexicon flew from my grasp. It bounced across the platform, falling through the bars of a gate on the nearest level. “Everypony all right?” I asked as I picked myself up off the ground. “What happened?” Mephalda asked. “Something must be blocking the lift,” Mystic said. The lift had stuck halfway down a level, and Steadfast smashed against the top of the bronze gates with his warhammer. As the gates tore away, he hopped down to the next floor, and the rest of us followed. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened. Broken stone and bits of metal blocked the lift, part of a cave-in below us. We would have to proceed the rest of the way by following the hallways. I retrieved the lexicon from where it had fallen and led the way. I ducked to the side as lightning shot at us. I headed back out and shot a blast of my own at where the bolt had come from, hoping to hit a turret. A skittering sound came as a Minotauran spider scrambled across the ceiling. Another bolt of lightning came down, this time from a different place. Mephalda moved into the open and shot an arrow that cracked open the back of the spider, sending lightning shooting in all directions. Automatons rolled out of the halls ahead, blocking our path as they swung their blades around. Mystic and I both shot lightning at them, but it proved ineffective. These automatons were different, shielded against lightning attacks in some way. I shot ice spikes off instead, smashing through an automaton’s head and killing it. Mephalda began to fire arrows at the oncoming machines, and Steadfast charged in with his warhammer, ducking down to avoid a blade before snapping an automaton in half. I drew Dawnbreaker, charging forward as well. As I swung toward one of the automaton’s heads, it angled back and blocked my blade. I swung around toward its torso instead, and it righted itself, once more blocking with its bronze blades. I drew the Blade of Hoofingar as well, and as it blocked my ebony sword, it failed to stop the Draconequus sword that sliced its head off. I blocked as two of the machines swung at me. I kept my blades moving, stopping their spinning arms wherever I could. A blast of fire from Mystic roasted the innards of one, and it toppled to the ground, freeing up my second sword. As I blocked with Dawnbreaker, I swung the Blade of Hoofingar into the automaton’s head and caused it to stop moving. We continued on, galloping through Bullftand as fast as we could. No doubt it was night by now, and Buckatosh knew how far we’d have to travel through Underkeep in order to get enough Crimson Nirnroot. I wanted to get through and out of this place as fast as possible. We found the stairs leading down to the final level, and I began to descend them. Mephalda suddenly gave a cry and swooped down, picking me up. At the end of the stairs, a set of blades had popped out of the ground and spun up the stairs. If Mephalda hadn’t grabbed me when I had, I would’ve lost my hooves and quite possibly my life. She set me down at the bottom of the stairs, safely out of range of the blades. She proceeded to do the same thing with Mystic and Steadfast, until we were all on the final level. I consulted the map, making sure we were headed in the right direction, before we took off again, headed for the gates to Underkeep. I stopped as we neared a passageway filled with swirling gas. Broken pipes leaked the noxious fumes. There was no guarantee that the gas would kill us, but I didn’t intend to take any chances. I pulled out the map and searched for an alternate route. “Now what?” Steadfast asked. “This appears to be the only way through,” Mystic said, confirming what I saw. We had to pass through the room. Maybe the gas wasn’t so bad after all. Steadfast stuck a hoof into it to test it and quickly pulled it back. He gritted his teeth in pain as blisters covered his flesh. I offered him a healing potion and cast a spell before things got worse. Turns out the gas was going to be a problem after all. It just wasn’t fair. The gates to Underkeep were just through this passage and down the hall. We’d come so far, only to be turned back now. I refused to admit defeat and tried the only thing I thought might possibly work. <<>> I Shouted, attempting to clear the “skies.” Surprisingly, it worked, and the mist rolled back, giving us a clear shot through to the other side of the room. We trotted through, unharmed, as the gas pooled in the corners of the room. We were nearly across when my Shout wore off, and the gas suddenly began to sweep back toward us. “Run!” I yelled as I took off at a gallop, hoping to reach the far end of the room before the gas reached us. We were nearing the door when the mist began to cover us, and painful blisters broke out over our bodies. I screamed in agony as my flesh was covered with the gas. As we pulled ourselves out of the room, I shucked off my armor, allowing the gas within to escape back into the air. I drank down as many healing potions as I dared before casting a healing spell, returning my flesh to normal. Then I began to tend to my friends, who had already consumed a large amount of healing potions as well. Once we were fully healed, the painful blisters gone, we headed away from the room, leaving the gas behind. I used the map to get our bearings again and led us to a large room with towering bronze doors at its end. Pulling a lever caused the doors to swing open on their own. “Whoa,” Steadfast said as we passed through them. Whoa indeed. We’d found Underkeep. Level Up Health: 360 Stamina: 360 Magicka: 350 New Perk: The Right Tools for the Job [Lockpick] – Any lockpicks you forge yourself will have a lower chance of breaking. New Quest: The Root of Power – Search Underkeep for Crimson Nirnroots.