Skyrim and the Journey of Cerise Ch. 02

Looking around we finally saw the archer at the top of the stairs. Unfortunately there was nothing but open ground between him and us. As Faendal drew his bow I prepared to charge, almost tripping on the body behind me, seeing the first bandit I killed. Next to him was his shield, which I quickly grabbed.

As soon as Faendal took his shot I sprinted forward, covering half the distance before the archer saw me. Raising the shield as he took aim, I heard a large 'thump' as the arrow flew into the shield, the head sticking almost halfway through the hardened leather just above my arm.

The force of the arrow had split the shield almost in half, so throwing it down I sprinted up the stairs, uttering Words of Power as my hand erupted in flames. The archer screamed as fire poured over him, allowing me time to get closer as he threw down his bow and drew his sword.

It soon became evident this opponent was well-versed in swordplay as we crossed blades several times in a flurry of attacks. We were dancing around too much for Faendal to get a good shot with his bow as I quickly parried a thrust and spun behind the opponent, intending to slash his back.

He was prepared for the attack, quickly spinning as well, blocking my slash and thrusting forward with his own attack. Although the attack was clumsy, it narrowly missed my thigh as I backed away, looking for another opening.

The bandit attacked first, which I blocked easily with my sword. As our blades crossed, I uttered another Word of Power, extending my hand into his face as fire engulfed his face.

The bandit screamed as the flames consumed his eyes, his shrieks causing him to inhale the magical fire as his cries quickly turned to gurgles, the magical fire invading his lungs. As the fire stopped from my palm, I plunged my blade into his neck, the splash of blood hitting me in the face as he fell to the ground dead.

Looking around I saw no more opponents as Faendal joined me, also alert for another attack. Once we had looted the bodies and cleaned up, we climbed the remaining stairs to the entrance of the Barrows.

By the time we reached the entrance, the sky was dark grey with clouds; however, Faendal stated it was close to noon as we took a quick meal in preparation to entering the crypt. Although it would have been better to go in away from the cold, neither of us knew what to expect inside.

As we ate our quick meal, Faendal told me the layout of the crypt. The entrance opened into a large antechamber before extending deep into the earth by a long passageway where the burial chambers were located. He said if there were guards, they would probably be closer by the passageway, as the entrance was too open for an ambush. Faendal said the weather was actually a good thing, as there were parts of the ceiling collapsed near the doors allowing the bad weather to come in, so nobody would be near them as we entered.

"Beyond that, I do not know what lurks deeper into the crypt, as I only entered once out of curiosity," he told me.

Trusting his judgment, we slowly entered through the large engraved door.

As we came into the main antechamber, I paused to look around the ancient tomb. It had a high vaulted ceiling—as Faendal had said—part of which had caved in exposing the grey sky above, snow having drifted into the huge room close to the entrance.

Moving further into the room we saw light behind a pillar ahead, and getting a better vantage point to the side, saw a cooking fire around which huddled two guards.

Surprisingly their backs were to us and the entrance, apparently relying upon the three guards outside or the rear guard at the tower to hold off or warn of any enemies.

I quietly signaled Faendal who nodded and drew his bow, preparing to take out one of the guards as I slowly and quietly drew my sword. As he drew back I began to run forward silently as possible until I heard the 'twang' of his bowstring. Immediately the guards turned, alerted to the noise which was made much louder by the large room. Due to them turning, the arrow only grazed one of the guards as they charged us.

I immediately took a defensive stance, causing the guards to slow down and assess the situation better. One attacked—even with a bow—they could have rushed, but seeing me and knowing there was at least one other gave them pause, albeit briefly. While one of the guards came at me, the first hung back, stringing her bow as I shuffling to the side to place the other guard between her and me and preventing her from shooting me.

Out of the corner of my eye to the left I saw what looked to be a large dog bounding towards me, and as I wondered what would happen next, saw an arrow sprout from its head, a loud non-dog squeal coming from it before it collapsed.

I had little time to wonder what animal Faendal had just shot as the guard attacked with his sword. I parried his attack when suddenly my shoulder erupted in pain. Looking at it, I saw an arrow sticking out of me!

The other guard closed in and shifted his position as I clumsily raised my sword, the arrow impeding my movement. It was still enough to ward off the attack as I shifted to the side, placing some distance between us. Looking at the wound I knew it was not mortal, but was bleeding considerably and would only be a matter of time before I collapsed from blood loss.

As the bandit came to attack me again I shouted a Word of Power, watching as he erupted in flames screaming. I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker from blood loss as I continued burning him, almost fainting before he finally collapsed in a heap of burning, smoldering ruin.

Instinctively I jumped to the side for cover, knowing without my opponent in the way I was an easy target for the archer. Apparently seeing her comrade burned alive gave her pause to allow me to dive for cover; however, I was none too soon, hearing the 'snick' of an arrow hitting the stone, sparks appearing out of the corner of my eye where I had just been standing.

The guard kept her distance, keeping me at bay with her bow. Every so often she also fired in Faendal's direction to keeping him pinned as well while I thought of our options.

Unfortunately, wounded as I was, I was of little use. Seeing the arrow that missed me lying on the ground, I immediately noticed the barbed edge, knowing I could not pull the arrow in my shoulder out without the barbed end doing even more damage.

Reaching a decision, I purposely leaned back at an angle, then slammed my shoulder into the rock as hard as I could. I screamed at the intense pain as the arrow was bent, almost fainting from the agony; however, the maneuver worked as I blinked back my tears and looked down, seeing the bloodied head of the arrow on the ground.

Taking another deep breath, I pulled the broken shaft out of my shoulder, no longer impeded by the barbed head, gasping in pain.

"Mother protect me," I whispered as I called another Word of Power, barely able to maintain a healing spell as the damaged flesh of my shoulder began to restore itself, the muscle knitting together, the blood slowly stopping its flow down my arm. I maintained the healing spell only long enough to stop the worst of the bleeding as I now waited for the right moment to attack.

As the woman fired another arrow towards Faendal's position, I charged, screaming Dibella's name. Although startled, the guard turned towards me quickly drawing back her bow with another shot.

At that moment I knew I would never reach her in time, silently offering a prayer to the goddess to accept me into her arms.

Suddenly I saw the female bandit jerk, her death rattle echoing through the antechamber as Faendal's arrow flew through her throat.

In the silence that followed, not hearing any other opponent, I sank to my knees, exhaustion overcoming me as Faendal ran to my side. Making sure I had no life-threatening wounds, he helped me to the guards' fire, setting me down on one of their bedrolls as he pulled out his pack. Although I protested, I finally relented when he forced one of our healing potions on me.

"You need your strength, and you look drained. Those spells you cast took a lot out of you," he told me.

As I sat and recuperated, the bitter healing spell working its magic, Faendal inspected the guards and surrounding area, finding a chest containing some gold and more healing potions. With the extra potions I did not feel as guilty using one of the ones we had, accepting a second.

Unfortunately the chest did not contain Lucan's claw, so we presumed there were more bandits further into the crypt. I did not know why they had come here, as this camp was obviously not permanent, but some part of me recognized the need to find them quickly. The threat of time was a constant worry.

Eventually able to move on my own, I remembered the creature Faendal killed, going to see what it was. As I drew close I realized it was a skeever, a rodent of unusual size, larger than any I had ever seen. Why it was with the bandits I had no idea, as they were not trainable to my knowledge, and even Faendal had never seen the like.

My wounds healed, we geared up and slowly headed into the passageway to the tombs.

The corridor was not long, opening into another small chamber containing broken pottery and what Faendal said were embalming tools. He explained the ancients used to travel for leagues to bury their dead here, so tools for preparation of the bodies were kept in supply at various stations. It was not unheard of for entire armies to bring their dead here after a battle, having plenty of tools to preserve their comrades being buried.

He then asked if he should light a torch, causing me to look at him questioningly. "My elven eyes can see fine here, but I know you may need more light," he told me.

I looked around in surprise. The room was as bright as the noon sun, suddenly realizing my heightened senses were still active. He looked at me peculiarly when I told him I could see fine, but I was not going to explain to him what little I knew about it as we slowly moved further into the crypt.

There were numerous passageways, all of them having the stale air of age, roots of trees from the mountain working their way down the walls. Every so often we came to some burial urns, which Faendal inspected, often finding a few gold coins or a gem. It felt unlucky to be robbing the dead, but then again, they had no use for it as we proceeded deeper into the earth.

After roughly an hour we had yet come across other bandits, exploring room after room, many containing burial urns and tables with embalming tools. Several times we had to retrace our steps, as a cave-in of one hallway or another blocked our way, yet we still were able to continue.

As we rounded one corner, we came upon the fresh body of another giant skeever. Its presence confirmed opponents ahead, so we cautiously continued deeper into the ground. This path was longer than all the others, leading up and down, occasionally having steps hewn out of the rock, yet saw no signs of bandits or skeevers.

Finally coming around a corner, we saw the flickering of torchlight, slowly moving forward to investigate.

Ahead of us was a large room, in which stood a bandit. Slowly making our way to the entrance of the room, we prepared to attach, suddenly stopping as the bandit moved forward. Ahead of him I saw a portcullis blocking another passageway, so motioned Faendal to hold back as we watched to see what the bandit was doing.

Moving to the middle of the room, I saw him reach down and pull the lever to open the ironed gate. Instantly the air clouded, what sounded like a hundred arrows being fired instantly filling the air as hundreds of darts impaled the bandit, who let out one scream before collapsing to the ground.

I looked at Faendal who shrugged, whispering, "That's one less at least," telling me had had never ventured this far into the Barrows.

Cautiously we entered the room, now alerted to not only bandits, but traps created eons ago.

A quick search revealed the claw was not here as we continued to look around. The room was not large, being smaller than most of the others we had explored, containing nothing relevant we could see. Above the closed portcullis were two large plaques having the images of a serpent and fish respectively. To our left were three pillars, similar plaques on them depicting the images of two eagles with a fish between them.

Upon closer inspection we discovered the pillars actually rotated, revealing other plaques, one of each animal—snake, falcon, and fish.

I climbed up to investigate the plaques above the gate, finding them firmly embedded into the wall, not movable as we pondered what to do. Looking down towards Faendal, I saw something catch my eye, a small pile of rubble with what appeared to be the edge of another plaque. Feeling another momentous event, I climbed down. After a few minutes we cleared the fallen stone to reveal a plaque of another serpent.

Looking above again, I realized the space between the two plaques was rough stone. It seemed the plaque on the ground had fallen off the wall over the ages. Glancing back at the pillars with similar images I recognized what their purpose was—to open the portcullis!

I rotated the pillars to match the plaques on the wall—serpent, serpent, and fish, using the plaque on the ground as reference for the middle image of a serpent. Before moving the final pillar, I told Faendal to step out of the room. He protested at first, but as I called upon Dibella to grant me protection, uttering a Word of Power to create an armored shield around me, he complied.

As with the other magic I had invoked, I could not remember how I knew the spell, it seemed to just come to me.

Preparing for—well, for the unexpected—I rotated the final pillar to the fish plaque, immediately crouching down in a defensive stance. I stood there for a few seconds as I realized nothing was happening.

Faendal called out from the doorway, saying, "Try the lever."

Cautiously I moved to the middle of the room, the carcass of the thief a reminder of what could happen, as I threw the lever, ducking to avoid the hail of darts that may attempt to impale me.

The portcullis in front of me silently opened.

Grateful for the small luck we had had, I ended my armor spell, and we gradually moved into the darkened corridor.

As we entered, we realized it was not a corridor but a small room containing a table, a few burial urns, and an old weathered chest. Checking the chest, Faendal found several gold pieces and a few potions, which we added to our supply. The table contained a tome that described a boy named Eslaf Erol who became a thief later in his teens. It went into one of his thefts; however, it had little to do with the bandits.

At one end of the room was a circular pit with a rickety wooden stairwell spiraling down it. Testing the stairs showed them able to support our weight, so we began to make our descent. Halfway down the stairs we heard a noise. Before we could react we were suddenly attacked by three of the large skeevers like we had seen before.

As I instinctively called out a Word of Power, shooting flames from my opened palm to burn one of the giant rats, another came up the stairs.

"Naaargh!" I cried out as the giant rodent's teeth sunk into my thigh. I swung my sword down, severing the creature's spine while its companion collapsed into a cindered smoldering pile of burnt flesh.

Screeching loudly, the other skeever seeing its two companions dead, turned to run as Faendal leaped past me, swinging down a massive warhammer onto its skull. The sickening crunch of bone and flesh smashing echoed against the walls of the pit.

Not certain if more of the creatures were around and wanting to conserve my strength, I quickly drank two more of the healing elixirs to repair the torn flesh on my leg, hoping the animal's bite was not infectious. Once I was able to walk again, we proceeded down the stairs, being extra cautious due to the recent surprise.

The bottom of the pit opened into a fairly large room, the remains of broken bookcases and urns scattered everywhere. In the center of the room was a large stone table with some parchment on it; however, I stood back in the doorway, feeling my skin crawl with fear.

"What is it?" Faendal asked, looking around to see what had caused me to stop.

I could not tell him the truth as I looked around the room, covered in spider webs as if a thousand of them had been let loose. The memory of being raped by the two Frostbite spiders beneath Helgen became vivid in my mind as I fought my fear and slowly moved into the room.

What worried me more than the fear of the spiders was the sudden rush of desire that flooded my loins, a brief glimpse of the soft webs brushing across my bare body as I shook my head as Faendal once again asked if I were alright.

Thankfully there were none of the creatures present as I looked at the parchment on the table. Reading it, I realized it was a spell to invoke a massive fireball. I took the scroll and stuck it in my belt. Scrolls like these were rare finds. They were the product of intense magical energy being poured into properly treated paper to bind the essence of the spell to the paper. Even a non-mage could then case the spell it contained, although the paper was destroyed as the spell was released, making it a one-time cast.

Still, such spells were useful as we continued to look around the room. Not finding anything else of value, we followed another corridor deeper into the crypt, the passageway steadily going down.

As we made it halfway down the ramp, we heard somebody shout out, immediately drawing our swords in preparation for an attack.

The voice called out again as we made out the words. "Is somebody coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"