Just above the small town of Riverwood, stood the ominous Bleak Falls Barrow. The ancient crypt held many dark and terrible secrets, and it kept watch, day and night, over the valley it dwarfed and its inhabitants, who had by now become very paranoid, afraid that someday, something might just come crawling out of the crypts, and into their lives…
Gretkar and Gruickshak trudged through the waist high snow that blanketed the usually bare plains of Whiterun. The ancient Nord axe, Brekyeir, was strappd to Gretkars back, held on by a thick leather belt, overtop his thick mammoth-fur coat. The sleet whipped at the orcs faces, and the ice clung to beards like spiders cling to walls. Gretkar and Gruickshak were used to snow on Black Rock, but not nearly as much as there was in Skyrim, and this was one of the coldest winters Skyrim had ever seen.
"I'm cold…" Gruickshak whined. "How much further to Riverwood?" Gretkar grumbled. "I know you're cold and so am I, but Riverwood is still an hour or two away. You'll have to be patient…" Gruickshak threw his bag to the ground and sat in the snow, crossing his legs. Grektar turned around to face his brother, and raised an eyebrow. "The hell are you doing?" he asked. "Im po-tessing." Gruickshak growled. "Come again?" Gretkar asked. "Im PO-TESSING!" Gruickshak shouted, slamming his fists into the snow. Gretkar broke into laughter. "You mean you're protesting!" Gretkar put his face in his palm and laughed aloud, making his brother angrier and angrier. Gruickshak stood up, and slammed his fist into his open palm. "I'm here sittin' in the snow, freezing to death, and you're laughing at me?" Gruickshak stepped closer to his brother, who was still laughing to tears. "I followed you all the way out here in the freezing cold, when we could have already sold that bloody axe and be rich and warm!" Gruickshak shouted, his voice resonating through the empty tundra. Gretkar payed no attention to his little-bigger brothers complaints and turned around to keep walking, still chuckling. Gruickshak was now boiling with rage, and charged at Gretkars back, sending a very surprised orc sprawling into the snow. Gretkar stood up, dazed, and faced Gruickshak. "What was that for?" he asked, wiping the snow from his face. But Gruickshak didn't listen. He titled his great head backwards, and let out an earth shattering roar that was so loud, it sent Gretkar flying into the snow bank again. But even Gruickshak seemed surprised at how powerful his shout was, and he was even more surprised when he found out that it wasn't his. He slowly turned around to see a huge Sabre Cat climbing the hill behind him, baring its razor-sharp fangs. As it crawled towards Gruickshak, he backed up slowly, his hand on the hilt of his orcish sword, which was sheathed at his side. He carefully stepped close to his brother who was still lying face down in the snow. "Sorry to bother you Gretkar…" he whispered "But we've got company." Gretkar stood up quickly, which startled the cat, and it lunged towards the two orcs, which to it, were like tiny mice to a house cat. Gruickshak drew his sword, destroying the sheath on the way out, and cut the monsters foreleg as it landed on Gretkar. Gretkar slid on the snow out from underneath it, jumped up, and spun around, facing the beast head on. The cat stared him down, with its forelegs outstretched and its bottom high in the air. Gruickshak could only stand and watch the staring competition between the two, with both of his hands clenched tightly around his sword. The cat then lunged at Gretkar again, who rolled out of the way, and pulled Brekyeir off his back, ripping the belt. He heard the voices again, but this time they were chanting…
Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
The words, although he could not understand them, pumped his heart with courage. His cold, furry hands strangled the bone hilt of the battleaxe, and he held it at his side, ready to strike. "Here kitty kitty…" he whispered under his breath. The Sabre Cat swung its paw foreward, and Gretkar knocked it aside with his axe, digging the steel deep into the cat's paw. It howled in pain, and retracted its leg. Gruickshak charged it from behind, and plunged his sword into the beasts hind leg, sending crimson blood spraying across the white snow. The cat spun around, knocking Gruickshak aside with it's tail. He fell into the snow, and struggled to stand up. The cat pinned him down, and prepared to slit his neck with its two long teeth. Gruickshak closed his eyes and prepared for the worst… but it never came. When he opened his eyes again, the beasts head was laying at his feet, and its body was laying a few feet away. Gruickshak looked over to see Gretkar with the axe tight in his grip, and blood spattered across his face. Brekyeir glowed in his hands, illuminating the darkening landscape. The chanting was now pounding in Gretkars' head, and he could not even hear his brother calling to him. All he heard was the deep throated singing, and the pounding drum…
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan! Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!
To be continued…