It took Delar a little over an hour to make it back to the bridge leading to Riverwood. Instead of crossing it however he took a path next to it that wound up the mountain. Once rounding a bend and passing beyond the edge of the small grouping of trees, he found himself ascending into a snow covered landscape. A cold, biting wind blew past him and he immediately regretted not having a cloak to ward off the chill. Crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to retain some body heat, he continued his climb.
After several minutes of walking through what was quickly becoming a snowstorm, Delar spotted an old watchtower ahead. Deciding to pass it by, he continued on, but as he neared the tower he noticed two people exit the tower and start to approach them, one of them wielding a mace. Delar rolled his eyes and sighed, not looking forward to dealing with them.
"You picked a bad time to get lost, friend," the man holding the mace said.
Delar shook his head slightly, "No, I actually know right where I'm headed."
The bandits, because he was sure that's what they were, froze at his words. They'd never encountered anyone who had replied like that before and it left them dumbstruck. Delar had to fight back a smirk when he saw the look on their faces. He was hoping to simply walk by them now, but it wasn't to be. The bandit with the mace let out a angry scream as he rushed forward, lifting his mace over his head.
Delar stopped where he was as his hands dropped to his sides. He looked on as the bandit was bearing down on him, and as soon as the man got close enough and began to swing downward, Delar stepped to the side, dragging one foot as he went so that the bandit ended up tripping over it and go tumbling to the ground. The other bandit started forward with a yell and Delar turned to him holding up his hand with his palm facing the man and his fingers slightly curled. There was a small flicker of orange light that burst forth from his hand, becoming a steady stream of burning fire.
The bandit tried to halt his progress too late and ended up taking the full force of the blast. With a terrified scream he dropped to the ground and began rolling in the snow, trying to put the magical fire out. Delar turned away from him and to the first bandit who was just getting to his feet. Deciding to get it over with before the bandit regain his bearings, Delar charged forward as a purple and black glow appeared in his hand. Casting the spell as he neared the bandit, a bound sword appeared in his hand just in time for the tip to pierce through the bandits' armor and slice his heart in two. Delar pulled the sword out and let the man slump to the ground before turning to the other bandit, still struggling to put out the fire enveloping him.
His boots crunching loudly in the snow, Delar approached the burning bandit and looked down at the screaming man with a frown. He dispelled his sword and held his hand out again, palm facing the man on the ground. Feeling the chill in the air grow more intense around his fingers, Delar released a freezing stream of air, extinguishing the fire. As the bandit laid on the snow covered ground, his clothing smoking slightly, Delar turned and continued up the mountain, leaving the man with nothing but the sound of boots crunching through the snow until it was drowned out by the howl of the wind.
Finally reaching the barrow, Delar opened the ancient iron doors and slipped inside, grateful to be out of the wind. He turned and took a look at the room he'd entered. It was large and full of rubble, but there were obvious signs of habitation in the form of old braziers alight with flame, and a small campfire set up farther back. However there were no people to be seen and if it weren't for the crackling of the fires, the silence in this ancient atrium would have been deafening.
He reached the campfire and took a quick look around. Judging by the number of bowls sitting on the ground there were at least five people here. He was uneasy however because, testing the temperature of the broth in one of them, he found it to be cold. It had been sitting long enough for the heat to leave it, but not long enough for the fire to have burned out. He spotted little else worth noting with the exception of a pile of cloaks draped over a fallen stone column. He approached and picked one out, quickly draping it over his shoulders and fastening it around his neck. Happy to have something to combat the chill in the air, he moved on, descending stone steps and beginning to make his way through a maze of halls.
He stopped in a small room, taking stock of its contents. There were a large number of candles that had been lit, and the light from the flames cast a sinister glow on the floors and wall, illuminating several small pools of dark red. Walking forward and crouching down next to one, Delar reached out and touched it with a finger. His suspicions confirmed that it was indeed blood, he stood and drew one of his daggers, holding it in a backhand grip while a ball of flame formed in the palm of his other hand.
He moved forward as quietly as possible, peeking around corners before turning down them, following a trail of blood deeper into the barrow. Finally reaching another set of stairs, he descended them, crouching down when he saw the figure of someone in the room beyond. Watching quietly as the man approached a lever in the middle of the room while clutching his side, Delar decided that this man was indeed the source of the blood. Why the man was bleeding though, was still a mystery.
Approaching the lever, the man gripped it and pulled it back to open the gate before him. Instead of the gate opening though, there was a loud click and then whoosh. The last thing the man felt was a sting in his neck before everything went dark.
Delar watched as the man was peppered with darts and slumped to the floor in a heap. Once he decided it was safe he continued the rest of the way down the stairs and stumbled at the bottom. Looking down to his feet he found a corpse holding a bloody sword and staring up with lifeless eyes. The body was severely decomposed and the skin was gray and stretched taut over the skeleton. Delar huffed, "So this is a Draugr." Looking away from the recently re-killed creature, Delar entered the room beyond and looked around.
A closed gate was before him, the lever and the body of the man who'd just tried to open the gate were at the center of the room. Above the door were three shapes set into old carvings of faces. To the left were three pillars with shapes on them. Delar looked from the pillars to the faces, immediately realizing the significance. He walked to the pillars and rotated each of them to match up with the faces and then returned to the center of the room and pulled the lever. The gate rose and the way was opened.
He stepped through the gate and hadn't taken three steps when he heard a the sound of metal grating on stone and a loud clang. He spun around and looked in disbelief at the gate, closed once again.
You've got to be kidding me. Divines, curse it all, there had better be another way out of here!
Sighing heavily, Delar turned back around and continued deeper into the barrow with a scowl, kicking at the body of another Draugr as he passed it. He entered another room to find more signs of recent activity. There was a knapsack sitting on top of a table with several bottles sitting near it. Nearing them he saw that they were stamina potions. Picking up the edge of the knapsack, Delar looked inside it, pulling out a few small soul gems and a book titled Thief. Deciding the items would be worth taking, he put everything into the knapsack and secured it over his shoulders, tugging the hood of the cloak out from under it once it was settled.
Moving on, Delar found himself entering an area of the ruins that lacked torches, so he grabbed one from the wall before continuing on. There was a strong musty smell as he moved further into the area, and he finally realized what it was when he saw w thick covering of webbing across the doorway before him. Holding the torch to the web, he burned it away, pushing the unburnt strands aside so he could step through. Apparently there was someone else in the room beyond who had seen the light, because as soon as he stepped in a voice shouted, "Look out!"
Delar turned to see a Dunmer wrapped in web, struggling to get out. "How'd you get in there?" Delar asked.
"The spiders! Look out!" the Dunmer replied.
"Relax," Delar said as he moved toward the man, "What's your name?"
Instead of giving a name the trapped man repeated, "The spiders!"
"Yeah, yeah," Delar said waving his hand, "If they show up I'll just squish them-" The sound of something moving above him caused Delar to pause and turn around as he continued speaking, "-Under my...boot?" The large frostbite spider dropped to the ground and raised its front two legs in challenge. Delar groaned, "I'm going to need a bigger boot."
Delar dove to the side as the spider spit poison at him, dropping the torch and shrugging off the knapsack so that he could move more freely. He got to his feet and leaped to the side just in time as the spider jumped and landed where he had been. He spun back toward the spider with his fist raised and punched the oversized arachnid in the side of the head, immediately regretting it as it jarred his wrist. The exoskeletons on the creature was damned tough. He jumped back again as the spider turned and then held up both of his hands and released a stream of flame from each. The spider let out a shriek of pain and fear as it caught fire, stumbling to the side and then charging blindly forward.
Delar jumped to the side once more as the spider charged past and rammed into the far wall. Before it could regain its senses, Delar dashed toward it, summoning his sword and jumping onto the spiders back and driving the ethereal blade into the creatures' head. The spider slumped to the ground and he dispelled the sword as he jumped off the carcass and made his way back to the Dunmer.
"Bless the Divines!" The Dunmer said, "Now get me out of here."
Delar nodded, picking up his knapsack and slinging it back over his shoulders. Then, picking up the torch he began carefully burning away the webbing around the trapped man. "I'm Delar," he said as he worked.
"Arvel," the Dunmer said, "Thank the Divines you came when you did! I would have died for sure, just like the others if you hadn't!"
"Others?" Delar asked.
Arvel nodded toward the wall and Delar turned to see at least five bodies completely bound in webbing. "I watched them all die," Arvel said despondently.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Delar asked.
Arvel looked up as one of his arms was finally freed and began using it to tug at the rest of the webbing binding him, "There's supposed to be an incredibly valuable horde of treasure here. Help me reach it and half is yours!"
Delar looked at the man, his mouth twisted, "I'm not really interested in treasure. I'm just here for something called the Dragonstone."
"Well I don't know what that is," Arvel said, "But if that's all you want you're welcome to it!"
Delar smirked in amusement at the mans apparent cheer at hearing he would be able to keep whatever treasure was found. Finally freeing Arvel from the webbing, he burned away the rest blocking the doorway that the Dunmer had been suspended in while the elf rid himself of the strands of webbing still clinging to him.
"Well, let's go then, shall we?" Delar said. Receiving a nod from Arvel, the two began moving once more. They'd made it about fifty feet before they were set upon by Draugr. Delar found the ancient undead to be rather easy to deal with, that was until he came across an armored one and ended up get his arm sliced by an ancient greatsword.
After putting the menace down and healing his wound, Delar moved with Arvel into a long corridor with detailed carvings on both sides. Arvel ran forward in excitement and began digging through his bag. Delar watched as the Dunmer pulled out a gold claw and turned it to study the 'palm' of it carefully.
"What is that?" Delar asked.
"A key," Arvel said with a wicked grin, pointing to the three symbols on the claw.
Looking from the claw to the door, Delar saw more symbols on it, one set on each of the three concentric circles that made up most of the door. He looked on as Arvel went about turning each of the circles with relative ease until the symbols matched the claw. He then placed the claw against a plate in the center of the door and pushed in and turned it. The door immediately began to rumble, the circles rotating until they finally stopped and the large slab of stone slid into the ground.
"This is it!" Arvel said excitedly as he moved into the cavern beyond.
Delar followed the man over an underground steam and up the steps toward a sealed sarcophagus. While Arvel began searching the area for things to loot, Delar found himself being drawn toward a carved wall behind the sarcophagus, an odd chanting echoing dimly in his head. He frowned as he stopped before it, placing his hand against the cold stone and tracing the markings on it. It was a language and script he had never seen before, and yet...
"Het nok faal vahlok. Deinmaar do dovaahgolz. Ahrk aan fus do unslaad. Rahgol ahrk vulom." The words cam out of his mouth as though someone else was using him to speak.
At hearing the chant like speech, Arvel stopped and turned to look at Delar quizzically. Once he'd stopped speaking, Arvel said the only thing that he could think of, "Pardon?"
The loud crack of a seal breaking interrupted any reply Delar might have made as the lid of the sarcophagus was launched into the air and crashed loudly on the ground. The Draugr within crawled out in full body armor and turned to Arvel who simply stood in shocked horror.
The Draugr squared itself off with the Dunmer and then pulled its' head back as it appeared to draw in breath before... "FUS RO DAH!"
Arvel was thrown back through the air and hit with a sickening thwack on the far wall of the cavern before falling several meters to the ground. The Draugr then turned its attention to Delar who had just saw what happened. "Oh, horker shit," he muttered as he quickly side stepped the Draugrs' blade and put some distance between himself and it. He turned to face it as he summoned a sword and set himself into a defensive stance.
Taking Delar's posture as a sign of defiance, the Draugr mindlessly accepted the challenge and marched forward, blade raised. Once in range the Draugr swung down and Delar parried the blow, stepping back. Another swing, another parry, another step. Delar knew he couldn't keep parrying the things blows. It was undead, so being tired wasn't likely a concept the creature was familiar with. With the things next downswing, Delar sidestepped and spun, bringing his sword around in an arc and striking the Draugr in the back, sending it stumbling forward... one step. Delar looked at the spot his sword had gotten stuck in the Draugrs' armor and then up to the creature.
The lack of lips showing rotted teeth and the unnatural gaze of glowing eyes, combined with the thin and matted strands of hair sticking out from under the things helmet gave the Draugr a horrifying look. One that was only reinforced as the Draugr snarled and spun toward Delar, hitting him in the side of the head and sending him careening off the raised platform and tumbling down the stairs. Loosing grip of his sword, it vanished and Delar quickly tried getting to his feet only to stumble and nearly trip.
"FUS!"
Catching the edge of the blast, Delar was spun around and smacked into the wall, managing to remain on his feet, though he felt water slowing his feet. How in Oblivion am I supposed to kill this damned thing?!
The sound of another pair of feet splashing in water drew him back to the immediate situation and he began to back up, trying desperately to think of something he could do to even slow the thing. Slow it... Delars's eyes lit up at an idea and he quickly stepped back, finding a rock above the water level to stand on. The Draugr stalked toward him, unfazed until Delar smirked and looked at its feet, submerged in water up to mid-calf. With the Draugr pausing, Delar took his chance, quickly summoning up a frost spell in both hands and blasting the water at the Draugrs' feet with it, immediately freezing the undead menace in place.
In a desperate attempt to attack Delar, the Draugr threw its greatsword. Delar jumped to the side as it passed by and landed on solid ground once more. He looked from the sword to the Draugr as a purple glow appeared in his left hand. "You should have kept that," Delar chided, "It might have helped you." A Bound Bow appeared in Delars hand and he immediately brought it up and pulled the string back, an ethereal arrow appearing as the string went taut. The moment the Draugr let out a snarl of challenge, Delar loosed the arrow, sinking it right into the Draugrs' face.
The Draugr fell back into the water, its legs still frozen in place. Delar dispelled the bow and his shoulder drooped forward as he sighed. "This day can't possibly get worse," he muttered as he turned toward Arvel. The Dunmer wasn't moving, and as he neared he could see why. The look of terrified shock was still on the dead mans face, staring up at nothing. His knees however were pressed against the ground and despite the armor, it was clear that his spine had been snapped in two. Delar crouched down with a sigh and held his hand over the mans head and said a quiet prayer for his soul. He saw the golden claw laying on the ground next to the man and picked it up before standing and turning back to the sarcophagus.
Approaching the old tomb and looking in where the Draugr had been there were only two things present, a small pouch that he picked up and opened. His eyes widened in surprise at the gems in it and he closed it and swung his pack off his shoulder to put it away. Doing so reminded him the pack was there and he mentally chided himself for not taking it off to move more easily. Setting the pack down he turned his gaze to the other item. A large stone tablet with detailed carvings showing what he recognized as a map of Skyrim.
Frowning at it, he set the stone on the floor and began digging through his pack for the map he'd gotten from Farengar. Laying it out he compared the two and was able to determine the general areas on his map that were shown on what he know assumed was the Dragonstone. Looking around for something to mark his map with, he noticed the a piece of chalk laying on the ground next to the pile of rubble that appeared to have been a table at one point. He marked the locations and then stuffed the heavy slab of stone into his knapsack. Pausing as he grabbed the map, he glanced to the wall with the odd writing on it. Making a quick decision he began to meticulously copy the markings onto the back of the map.
Once finished, he put everything in his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He took one last look at the word wall, bewildered by the fact that he apparently knew what the writing said, but had no idea what the words meant. Rereading it again he stopped on the word 'Fus.' Three times now he'd heard that word. First at Helgen, and now twice here. He wondered why the word on its own didn't have as severe of an effect as it did when other words were added. Shaking his head and deciding it would have to remain a mystery for now, he quickly found an exit and made his way out of the barrow.
It was late afternoon by the time he made it back to Whiterun. He made his way back to Dragons Reach, pushing open the oversized door to enter. Taking a deep breath before continuing he slung the pack off and took the stone out before putting the pack back in place. Hefting the stone in both hands, Delar walked up the stairs and made for the room Farengar's study was in. He could see the Jarl standing across the desk from his court-mage who was absorbed in whatever was laying on his desk.
Hearing the footsteps, Balgruff turned to see Delar striding toward them with a slab of stone carried in his hands. "You're back!" the Jarl said cheerfully and then gestured to the stone, "Is this it, then?"
"Yep," Delar said smiling slightly.
The smile quickly vanished as Farengar was suddenly on the same side of the desk as the others and wrenching the stone from Delar's hand, "Finally! Give me that."
Delar scowled as the mage immediately went back to where he was, staring at the stone. "You're welcome," Delar snarled at the mage.
Balgruff chuckled somewhat uneasily and clapped Delar on the shoulder, "Forgive him, he can forget himself in his work at times."
Delar huffed and then nodded, deciding it wasn't worth the trouble of being mad at the egotistical fool. He was about to ask Balgruff if there was somewhere he could get cleaned up at when Irileth came running toward them, "My Jarl! A dragon has been sighted at the Western tower!"
A winded guard was just behind her, slowing at seeing the woman stopped. "Upstairs," Balgruff ordered, not wanting to talk about it in the open. "You come too," he said to Delar. There was a simultaneous groan from both him and the guard as they followed after the Jarl and Irileth.
Muttering under his breath Delar said, "And here I thought this day couldn't get worse..."