The Store Room at the End of Oblivion

• Posted by Andrew Shepherd August 23, 2015 - 818 views

  "It's gonna be a warm one today!" Crestor called over his shoulder as he leaned out of the store room window, tapping his long black nails on the sill. The sky was aflame with dark swirling clouds, fire wreathing around them. A hot wind blew embers and ash across the barren, rocky landscape. The merry sound of the bubbling and hissing Brimstone creek could be heard nearby.

  "This is Oblivion, idiot. Its always a warm one." mumbled a dremora churl sitting with horned head in hands at an obsidian desk. Its corners were adorned with black spikes that continually dripped blood.

  "Come on Xanax," replied Crestor. "Cheer up. We could go for a stroll along the creek today."

  "Piss off," said Xanax. There came a distant roar from across the plains, followed by a terrified scream.

  "Look Xanax!" Crestor cried excitedly. "Fryceratops is out for his morning hunt, lets go out and egg him on!"  Leaning further out the window, the dremora caitiff strained to see the naked, shrieking slave running in a panicked sprint across the blasted tundra, a frenzied clanfear hot on his trail.

  "He does this everyday," moaned Xanax. "What's so different about today?" Crestor cheered and laughed as the daedra leaped upon the slave's back, claws rending the flesh and splintering the ribs underneath. The dremora turned away from the entertainment and fixed Xanax with a glare, his red-black brow furrowing. 

  Xanax had been depressed ever since they had first been assigned to the store room. Crestor didn't think it was so bad, but for Xanax it was humiliating. In both of their cases the assignment was a punishment for gross incompetence during Dagon's invasion of Nirn.

  Crestor's mission had been to lead a sneak attack on the Imperial city during the final invasion. He had chosen a tunnel leading through the city's sewer system in order to bypass the walls and then subsequently gotten his force lost right up to the point where Dagon fell. Mehrunes had been furious.

  In Xanax's case, he was driving a siege engine bound for the city walls during the siege, but he had gotten in the way of Dagon's charge out of the gate and the prince had stubbed his toe on it. If the lord of destruction hadn't been in such a hurry he would have simply stamped on him. Xanax wished that he had.

  During their time at the store room, Crestor had tried repeatedly to cheer Xanax up, to engage him in conversation and get him enthusiastic about his work but to no avail. After two-hundred years it was getting on his nerves.

  There was a sudden flash of light and a large hiss as the hot air in the middle of the desk was displaced and a scroll warped into existence. Crestor stepped over to the desk, picked up the still hot scroll and opened it. His burning eyes grew wide as he read. He nudged his sullen partner.

  "Xanax, a letter from the boss." he said excitedly. Xanax merely grunted. Crestor continued. "It says that the World Eater has reappeared in Skyrim and a dragonborn with him! That means that some of the artifacts will be needed." 

  "Who cares?" grunted Xanax. This time Crestor scowled and kicked the churl in the side of the leg.

  "I do, shit-head! This is your job! We've been tasked with the catalogue of all the artifacts and making sure they are in good working order. Get up!" 

  This time the churl snarled and jumped up from the stone slab he had been sitting on, aiming a punch at the caitiff's head, which was easily ducked.

  "Let's get going. If Sphinctor comes in and catches us wasting time there will be Oblivion to pay." said Crestor. Sphinctor was their supervisor. A bad tempered Xivlai charged with the care of the daedric artifacts. He would to come to claim them and courier them to the appropriate prince when a mortal had earned them. Sphinctor was a real asshole.

  The two dremora made their way into a back room of the storeroom and each took hold of a heavy chain attached to a ring buried in the slab in the middle of the floor. They heaved and with a grating sound the slab lifted upwards. They dragged it across the floor, revealing a narrow stairwell winding down into the darkness. For several minutes the two descended, the darkness illuminated by a ball of flame held aloft in Crestor's hand and finally they emerged into a large chamber filled with the stench of death. The two companions breathed in deep, savoring the air.

  Crestor held his hand higher and the ball of flame split into embers which sped off into the dark corners of the chamber, each coming to rest in the orbits of numerous grinning skulls mounted on wall spikes and illuminating the room. The walls were lined with black shelves, laden with ebony bound chests. The room itself was decorated by more intricate and blood-dripping spikes, gibbets filled with rotting mortal corpses, and various pedestals upon which lay various instruments of torture. You've gotta admit, thought Crestor, there's nothing that calms the spirit like daedric architecture.
  

  "Righto," said Crestor in an efficient, business-like tone. "We've got a list on the scroll so let's go through it alphabetically."

  "Hmph," replied Xanax.

  "First up," continued Crestor, ignoring the surly churl. "Azura, star of." He stepped up to the first chest and placed a burning hand on it. The lid creaked open and he lifted a star-shaped soul gem from it. "Here!" he yelled and tossed it to Xanax. The star spun through the dank air and nearly caught Xanax between the eyes before he caught it.

  "Seems ok to me." said Xanax, a slight grin at the edge of his fanged-lined lips.

  "Apparently some idiot named Malen Varen needs it right now." said Crestor. He continued along the shelves, checking and ticking off each artifact as he came to it. "Ok, Meridia also needs Dawnbreaker now too," he said drawing a shining blade from its chest. Then he grinned at Xanax. "Hey, watch this." He pointed his finger at one of the gibbets and its bottom opened, dumping the decomposing corpse onto the cold stone floor. Crestor then pointed at the corpse. It shuddered and rose, swaying. With a long moan it began to shamble towards the dremora. Laughing, Crestor thrust Dawnbreaker through its chest and it exploded in a ball of flame and rotting flesh. A piece hit Xanax in the face.

  "Hey!" he yelled, "that went in my mouth!" Crestor guffawed. The caitiff came to another chest and lifted out an ornately carved horned mask. He put it on and capered about.

  "Look Xanax, I'm Clavicus Vile, the tricksy wicked false daedric lord!" he cried in a poncy voice. This time Xanax chuckled. 

  "You idiot," he said, grinning. Crestor opened yet another chest.

  "Look, Volendrung!" he yelled excitedly. "Here Xanax, throw me the star!" Xanax chuckled again and launched the star through the air at Crestor. The dremora swung the huge Dwemer warhammer and connected with the star. With a loud ring it went spinning off across the room and lodged high up on the far wall.

  "Shit !" cried Xanax. "You'll never get it down from there now!"

  "Yes I will, watch!" said Crestor laughing. He took a ring from another chest and put it on. Immediately his form blurred and he transformed into a hulking werewolf. It charged across the floor and leaped several feet into the air, took the embedded star in his jaws and ripped it from the wall, pushed off with a somersault and landed on his feet. Xanax clapped his hands now cackling with glee. The werewolf Crestor then cocked his leg and urinated up against another chest. Now Xanax was bellowing with laughter. 

  Crestor shifted back to his dremora form, hands on his sides and doubled up with mirth. It was good to see his friend laughing for a change.

  "Hey hey, what about this!" yelled Crestor gleefully. He took a huge Dwemer shield from a chest. "There's nothing like a nice ride to break a long spell!" He rushed past Xanax and back up the stair well. The chuckling churl followed. At the top Crestor placed the shield on the floor. "This should be big enough for two! Get on behind me!" He sat down at the front of the shield and Xanax at the back, gripping Crestor's shoulders. "Hold on!" yelled the dremora and launched the shield down the stairs. Downwards they rocketed, clanging off the walls until they came hurtling out at the bottom, skidding across the floor and spilling them onto it, roaring with laughter.

  Both dremora helped each other up, wiping tears from their eyes when an iron vice clamped down on both of their necks.

  "Right you two," bellowed an awful voice. "You're fucking nicked!" Xanax and Crestor looked up to see the face of Sphinctor the Xivlai, their supervisor. He lifted them into the air and brought them close to his fanged face, black eyes boring into theirs.

  "I've got a different job for you both now..."

                                                                                  ***

  Quill and scroll in hand, Crestor trudged across the dark sands, the sounds of whispering, moaning souls in the air. The scorched sky hang like a pall of smoke overhead. Xanax followed behind, head down, kicking pebbles out of his way. They approached a cowering spirit, trying to hide among the decaying stones of a ruin.

  "Bumstead, Frederick?" said Crestor to the spirit in an officious tone. The spirit looked up fearfully.

  "Yes, that's me." it replied timidly.

  "Mr Bumstead, we are conducting the annual Soul Cairn census." said Crestor. "It is our job to catalogue all of the souls in the cairn, both old and incoming for the purpose of dark rituals and other needs the Ideal Masters may have of you." There was a loud moan and a thud from behind. Crestor turned to see Xanax on his backside in the dust, sobbing into his hands. 

  Dammit! thought Crestor. Now it will be at least another two centuries to cheer him up !