Chapter 4 - Freeze
It was cold. Colder than Élusia had ever felt before. Cold enough that her limbs and digits ached as she attempted to move them painstakingly towards her throbbing head.
Her fingers were white and veined with blue, almost agony to bend. She shuddered and pressed them to her face, frozen skin against frozen skin. Groaning, Élusia moved her hands around to the pain in her skull to check for any wounds.
When they brushed against something rough and hairy she sprung to a sitting position faster than she had thought possible in her current state, snapping around to stare into the grotesque features of a spider larger than she was. Shrieking, the Breton leapt to her feet and backwards against the wall, sticking herself into its web without even thinking and crying in distress. She clawed at the sticky substance desperately, wrenching herself free of it through pure will to survive, her mind whirring so fast that she didn't even comprehend the burning pain in her body.
The spider didn't move. Her heart pounded in her ears as she watched it warily, tensed to run at the first sign of a twitch. The axe that she had taken from Riverwood was underneath one of the spider's hairy legs and it made her shudder at the thought of attempting to retrieve it.
Once Élusia was satisfied that it was truly dead, she snuck closer. Planting her feet so methodically that walking forward three steps took over a minute, she stooped down at a safe enough distance and stretched towards the axe handle, her skin crawling. Her fingers closely around it and she sighed in relief, pulling the whole axe a little closer to her. The blade nudged the leg that it was lodged under and caused it to move closer to her hand.
The Breton had shrieked and jumped back onto her feet before she even realised that it was her who had caused the movement rather than the possibility of it being alive. Groaning, she retrieved the weapon and tiptoed around the corpse warily. She prayed that there would be no spiders further into the ruin.
She slipped through the door in which she had last seen the Dunmer man caught in the web which had thankfully since been cut away. It felt warmer without the presence of spider webs in every nook and cranny. The remains of a tiny fire were dying in a large stone torch and Élusia took the time to warm her fingers on the embers that cast a dull orange glow over the surroundings. In places the covering plaster of the walls had fallen away to reveal horizontal slats of stone stuck into the mountain side to shape the passages of this burial ground. An altar was strewn with cracked ceremonial jars and bandages that had turned solid from their time underground in the cold.
The next chamber was much the same, but minus the light from failing flames. Darkness clung to the walls in sheets.
Small rooms opened out into long corridors with high ceilings and the remains of Nordic gargoyles seated to guide the spirits to Sovngarde. In places Élusia could almost see the inscriptions written on the walls that were so aged they had crumbled to dust on the floor clearly disturbed by two distinct sets of footprints. Regimented holes held bandaged corpses of warriors of old, Nord men and women from eras long since passed. Some held nothing but a body, but some of the others held trinkets of medallions and brooches that sent a shiver down the girl's spine to see. She was surprised that they had not been looted, but stealing from the dead was frowned upon by all cultures that she could think of. Thieves had probably been too frightened of vengeful spirits.
A few of the corpses were not in their assigned spaces.
It took Élusia several moments to comprehend that some of the fetid, emaciated bodies were strewn about the floor with limbs hacked off or gashes most of the way through their long-dead flesh. Immediately her mind leapt on the stories that she had heard that the dead in the barrows walked, but she dismissed it as stupid. They would be soldiers who had died defending this place, surely. Some still had clumps of hair clinging on to what little meat had been preserved on their bones, beards and moustaches the grisly additions to faces swallowed by time.
The Breton shuddered and picked her way around them, trying to prevent her eyes being drawn to the drying blood stains up a wall of savage looking metal spikes that had come away from the stonework it was hinged to. There was a body lodged underneath it that prevented it from moving in either direction, one half mashed into a pulp and the skull split open. Fragments of brain matter surrounded the corpse of what appeared to be the Dark Elf from the web. The gash to his side said that he had fallen before the device had smashed his head open, but it was impossible to tell which had killed him from the distance she kept herself.
She stepped warily over a corpse blocking her path and squeezed through a gap between the wall and the metal spikes, twisting her body so that it would fit. Jarring her ankle as she stepped away, Élusia swore as pain lanced up her leg and made her grimace. "Why won't you get bloody better?" she growled at the injury as though just yesterday she hadn't been unable to walk on it.
There were bloodstains but no corpses as she rounded the corner, crimson splodges dotting the floor away from the piles of bodies. Was it Jonna, perhaps? She couldn't be sure, but she was certain that he deserved his injuries for abandoning her beneath that spider. Remembering the dead arachnid sent a shiver running down her spine.
Taking one final glance behind her, the Breton saw something glinting in the minimal light within the dead Dunmer's clothing. She frowned and prepared to walk away until she remembered that she had entered this ruin in search of a golden claw stolen by thieves in Bleak Falls Barrow. Scowling, she took a pace towards the corpse and squatted on the non-spiked side of the metal wall, ignoring the agonising protests of her ankle. Élusia pushed her axe handle through the grating to twitch aside the blood-stained cloth and gasped in surprise and relief as in the dim light her eyes settled on a golden statue in the shape of a dragon's foot.
A strange smirk crossed her features as she slipped back around the trap, crouching down as far away from the corpse as she could possibly manage. She used her axe handle to hook the claw and pull it free of the mangled body, flicking it across the room in the process. It clanged noisily against the stonework into the shadows and Élusia swore. She walked to a dried up torch stuck through a bracket in the wall and mustered just enough magical fire to light it and provide her with a little illumination. Wrenching it from the rusted metal holder with trembling hands, she surveyed the area into which the claw had bounced and was relieved to find it against the wall. She stooped to pick it up.
"I need that." The voice made her jump. She spun to see Jonna behind her, a bloody gash on his cheek and dents in his armour plating. "It's a key." He held out his hand and she shuddered to see that his arms were splattered with crimson that could only belong to the unfortunate Dunmer on the ground. "Give it to me."
Élusia shook her head. "It's mine!" she cradled it against her chest defensively.
The Redguard rolled his eyes, trying to hide the wince from his wound. "Don't make me cut you down for it," he muttered.
"It's mine!" she repeated, though less frantically. "It's going to get me out of Riverwood."
"The Jarl of Whiterun sent me her to search for something, and I need that claw. You're welcome to it once I have used it, but the treasure I seek is far more precious than a stupid gold trinket. Think about it – you're going to sell it to an idiot Imperial in a tiny town with almost no money?"
Élusia paused to think, and before she had a chance to react Jonna had snatched the claw from her minutely slackened arms. "Give that back, you-" She leapt at him, scrambling for her prize. Her axe and the makeshift torch clattered to the floor, the fire guttering abruptly.
He threw her off as easily as tossing a chopped log onto a pile. "You have to be the most stupid person I have ever met," he murmured.
The sudden collision with the ground had made the Breton groan with pain as she landed on the axe handle, and when she tried to stand again her ankle was a wash of agony. "I'm having that back." Her teeth were gritted so tightly that the words were almost indistinguishable.
"Provided you don't die on the journey through."
Jonna turned on his heels, barely avoiding the bodies on the floor as he strode away. Élusia did her best to follow him, picking her way carefully past the corpses and slipping around the metal grate that groaned as she placed a hand on it to steady herself when she stumbled. Fearing it might move and kill her, she pursued the Redguard with more haste.
There were more bodies in the lower chamber. One of them had had its ribs smashed and now its chest was little more than a tangle of flesh and bone, dark congealed blood striping the wound. The room was smaller than the one above, but more bandaged figures were stacked in alcoves in the wall. Ahead of her, the stairs that led upwards again were completely blocked off by a collapsed passage that let in a few slivers of light and a chilly breeze that sent shivers down her spine. To the left of the chamber, an unusual sound drew her attention away from the carcasses.
A series of axes swung like pendulums in the small passageway, disappearing into the stone on each side briefly before carving their way back across to the other side. Élusia suspected Jonna had just run between them with her golden claw and left her to negotiate them herself and she shook herself before she started cursing him violently. She stepped forward, gulping. The blades were rusted in places but still appeared to be deadly sharp, perpetually swaying as though they had been enchanted to do so for the rest of eternity.
An idea struck the Breton as she approached and she dropped to her hands and knees, abandoning any of the remaining dignity that she had still managed to retain since leaving Jehanna. She crawled beneath the weapons, her arms shaking beneath her as she worried about her head being removed by one of them. To her surprise, Élusia found herself still alive on the other side and she stood up to dust herself down.
The corridor was narrower on this side, but bound bodies still surrounded her on both sides. She had to admit that the Nords made good use of space when burying their dead. She had barely turned two corners before she almost walked into a headless corpse, a helmet with the skull still inside spinning eerily a little way further on. Another body had been badly scorched by what looked like some kind of oil, small fragments of pottery scattered by what she suspected were Jonna's heavy footsteps through here with her prize. The burning smell was still lingering as she jogged past it, afraid of losing her claw forever.
Maybe the bodies were fresh… They were rotted, though, and no self-respecting necromancer would choose to set up in a place like this that was considered hallowed ground by the Nords below. It would be too obvious so close to civilisation…
Eventually the path forwards became uneven to tread as the stones became more eroded and Élusia was forced to walk again for fear of doing further damage to her already painful ankle. Opening into a large chamber, the ceiling had all but collapsed and a steady stream of water was gushing down the walls and dribbling across the floor between the fragments of debris. The small bridge across it made the Breton believe that it had always been there, but a glance skywards showed rather more of the darkening heavens than she could possibly accept as having been allowed in deliberately. A twist of vines knotted across the floor and snaked up some huge pillars with carvings that had been largely washed away by time.
"Dead end," she muttered to herself, frowning as she saw the door across the little stream had caved in on itself. Standing for a moment, perplexed, she considered where exactly Jonna could have gone, following the water as it flowed across the room and disappeared through a large opening in the wall. It took her a moment. "There," she whispered, nodding. "Typical." She was only wearing the cloth shoes that Delphine had allowed her to have from the Sleeping Giant, and they were definitely not appropriate attire for scaling streams. Then again, the thought of Jonna walking off with her bag of gold was enough for her to surge forwards.
Underfoot the stones were slippery with moss that was growing in the water, and once or twice she almost fell before steadying herself against the wall with the hand that was not clutching the axe rather too far down the hilt for it to function as a weapon.
The cave that the stream led her to was filled with green light that seemed to be emanating from some mushrooms on the walls. Had she paid more attention to the alchemy books her parents had tried to force her to read, she might have been able to name them. She followed the water flow until it burst through the wall and into the cold outside, the cave twisting in a different direction and twisting downwards so rapidly that she soon found herself at the base being doused in its icy spray as she crossed a narrow rock bridge covered in a thin layer of snow containing three sets of large boot prints, two leading forwards and one trudging back, and a smaller set that ended in drag marks over the edge towards what looked like a twenty foot drop.
Had Jonna truly walked this far before realising that he needed to return for the golden claw? Élusia's golden claw. It angered her just to think about the way that he had stolen it from her and simply run away. She was glad to get back inside the cave, particularly when it merged back into the ruin and allowed her sodden feet a chance to regain feeling from first water and then snow.
Climbing over the rubble that was in such large chunks that it all but blocked the path she spied an open set of double doors and hurried towards them, doing her best not to jar her wounds as she dropped back to the floor. The iron cladding on the door had indentations in it in a language that she did not recognise, and on the other side of it a huge circular fire pit surrounded by twelve primitive gargoyles that resembled dogs, blazing magically. For a moment, the Breton was almost tempted to stop and warm herself by the flames, but she forced herself to run onwards, crawling under another set of swinging blades into what looked like a sanctuary for the dead.
Huge slate coffins were dotted around the room and several had been forced open, the massive stone lids strewn across the ground. A wooden walkway led to the second floor, more corpses littering the ground on both. The top level was not extensive and the view of the lower was blocked by rotting wooden panels. An unsteady-looking table was propped up in the centre of a small alcove, covered in a fine layer of cobwebs and a thick layer of dust, while a dilapidated bookshelf with collapsed shelves was flush with the wall, tatty remains of books all that it contained. The wood-walled passage led her around in a loop, similar small room arrangements budding off from it at intervals until it opened up to a surprisingly well-maintained stone bridge across the sanctuary.
She heard Jonna's cursing before she saw the man, a sadistic smile pulling at her lips as she rounded the corner into a long thin room with few decorations. "Why won't you bloody open?!" he shouted at the door, apparently frustrated as he pressed the golden claw – her golden claw – into it.
"Not very good at puzzles, are you?"
He showed her his middle finger and continued pressing the apparent key into the stone at the end of the room.
"I would take a look if you gave me my claw back." Élusia had to admit that he had piqued her interest the moment he had mentioned that he was looking for something far more prized for the Jarl of Whiterun, but her pride would not allow her to say so. Not to mention, he could very easily have been lying to her.
Jonna practically threw it at her head, muttering threats at the girl as she was forced to duck out of the way and then retrieve it. It felt good to be able to touch the gold metal again; slightly warm from where the Redguard had been handling it but ever beautiful – and valuable. She ran her fingers over the three-toed dragon foot, intricately carved with stunning patterns. Élusia was about to take a moment to marvel at the thing when her impatient and unwilling companion cleared his throat loudly and snapped her back into reality.
She approached the door and looked at it. Three holes where the claws would insert within a circle, which probably stood to reason that the golden claw was the key. It was surrounded by three stone circles of increasing size, animals carved into it at positions that did not seem to quite match up. "I imagine it's a combination," she muttered, running her hand over a moth in the innermost circle. "But what would it be?"
Stroking the golden claw subconsciously, her attention was suddenly drawn as her thumb ran over indentations on the lower side and she flipped it over. Three animal symbols ran down the length of the ornament, a bear, moth and owl. Frowning, she pushed the picture of the moth on the door and was rather surprised when the circle moved freely. She turned it to an owl, the second circle to a moth and the outermost circle to a bear. "Should work," she said to nobody in particular, double checking the dragon claw in her hand. "And this is the key…" She pressed it into the holes and the central circle slid into the door with a clunk.
Jonna pushed her out of the way and began to twist the claw like a handle without warning, the three animal circles spinning of their own accord until they lined up at three bears and the entire door shifted. A great gush of released air rushed from within as some ancient mechanism sounded a deafening clunk and the great stone slab of the door disappeared into the floor leaving the Redguard with the claw still trapped in his surprised grasp. "Amazing…"
"Give me my claw back."
He gave her a withering look. "Even if I give this back to you, I know you will follow me up those stairs." He indicated the ones down the now open tunnel. They led upwards and appeared to be so caked in dust that they were almost white in appearance. "I doubt you'll be much use, but I intend to hold onto this claw unless there is a further door for which I require its use."
"You wouldn't have got this far without me! You'd have been stuck in that room with the twisting columns or been shot with that trap! You have no right to-"
"To what?" He tucked the golden claw into his belt pouch and drew his sword. "If you are alive once I have reached and obtained my target then you may have your key back." The Redguard paced forward, measuring each step before he pressed his foot to the ground, and began to ascend the stairs. Clouds of dust erupted into the hair whenever he stepped and he turned his face into the slight protection of his cowl.
Élusia pulled the basic cloth shirt she was wearing other her nose and mouth, following him. At the top of the stairs delicate threads of spider's silk hung down from the ceiling and in amongst the patches of collapsed debris. Aside from the rubble, the passageway was a perfect circle, broken in places only by the creeping vines that had worked their way into the stonework and dislodged parts of it. The gloom was thicker than the dust and clung to everything like a skin. The pair were seeing things in it now that they never would have seen in the light, no longer stumbling around in the dark as they entered a chamber where the ceiling was held up by a series of six weathered pillars. A colony of bats was disrupted by their presence and flew at them, making the Breton squeak in fright.
"Pathetic," she heard Jonna mutter as she regained her composure. He put a hand on her, listening. "Water."
When she focused Élusia heard it too, the gentle crash of a waterfall. At the end of the chamber rays of light were appearing, and the nearer they edged to it the louder the sounds grew. Suddenly the ceiling darted upwards at least a hundred feet into a huge cavern. Water gushed from the walls in several places and large chunks had fallen from the ceiling to allow light from the now dark sky to pour inside. At the centre a platform was carved into the stone with three sets of stairs ascending to it. The face of a dragon crudely laid into the wall behind it with some kind of altar at the front, lit by the dull light of a magical fire pit that the Breton was surprised hadn't gone out in the wet air. The whole structure looked almost like a throne in the dimness, large enough for that scaled black monstrosity that had attacked Helgen, almost.
Jonna took off towards it, crossing the bridge over a rivulet and taking the stairs two at a time. His sword clasped in his hands despite the lack of obvious threat.
Élusia's eyes went wide as she followed him, cradling her axe as though she had any idea how to use it in her own defence. She took the steps slowly, the spray from the nearby waterfall soaking through her clothing and spitting in her eyes to obscure her vision. The Redguard was on his knees in front of an ebony chest, scrabbling with the lid in order to open it, but Élusia was drawn in the opposite direction towards the wall onto which the dragon's visage was inlaid.
There were markings in it that were so regular that she assumed that they must be symbols in some language that she could not understand, scratches and punctures gouged into the stone in distinct groups of three. She took a step into the semi-circular zone and was struck immediately by a sense of being drawn to one particular set of the marks as though they were pulling her in.
"What are you doing?" Jonna shouted at her, trying to lever the chest open with his blade to little success.
Élusia pressed her fingers to the first three scratches, marvelling at the warmth of the stone. She traced them methodically, moving onto the next three and then the final set, recoiling as if stung. Her brain buzzed uncomfortably and she glared at her hand.
"Get away from there and help me with this," the Redguard was saying other a din of ringing in her ears.
She shook her head, putting a hand to her ear with a groan and screwing her eyes shut. Fus. The word occurred to her from nowhere, and it didn't even make sense. "I'm losing my mind," she grumbled. The dragon wall was no longer drawing her towards it, and she was about to turn back to Jonna when she heard an almighty crunch. She spun around in time to watch the top of what she had assumed to be an altar fly into the air and crash down into the water below.
The creature climbing from the coffin was made of bone and sinew, humanoid in appearance like a well preserved zombie. It still wore armour that was stuck against its body after however many years it had lain dormant. Fur boots hid skeletal feet, and the rags that had once been trousers clung to its waist at a strip of leather studded with metal rings that appeared to function as a belt. The cuirass was gone, melted into the things chest so that they became one, and the helmet was dented viciously against the skull from which violent blue orbs glared.
It opened its mouth and a pulse of energy rushed away from it, forcing Élusia's back against the dragon wall before she had a chance to summon a ward and crushing the air from her lungs. Jonna fell backwards from the ledge as he was moved by the same energy, his armoured form clattering noisily down the steps. The Breton coughed in pain, looking back at the strange being to see that it had pulled a shield from its coffin and was drawing a rather sharp-looking sword. Shrieking, she ran with her axe clenched so tightly in her hands that she couldn't have swung it if she wanted to. She darted down the stairs as the creature focused its attention on her, shots of pain blossoming in her ankle and rushing up her leg.
"Get up!" she shouted at the crumpled heap of Redguard. He only groaned in reply, the metal plating of his cuirass bent in to constrict part of his chest. "Get up!" All this over a golden claw… "Do you want to be killed?!" She tried to remember the incantation to the healing spell she had learnt once as the undead thing appeared at the top of the stairs, staring down at them before beginning its descent.
It staggered as Élusia hit it in the leg with a badly aimed fireball, slipping from the steps with a crash and disappearing from view. "Get up now," she said urgently, offering Jonna a hand. He struggled into a seated position, coughing and loosening the side straps of his breastplate to allow himself to breathe. "What do we do?!"
"Preferably kill that damn thing," Jonna grunted, hauling himself to his feet. "But I've never seen one use magic before. I told you to stay away from that wall!" His attention shifted abruptly to the re-emerging humanoid. Its legs were charred and blackened, but otherwise it appeared to be unharmed. "I need you to go back up there and look for a Dragonstone. I don't know what that looks like, but I need you to do it. If you find it, I'll give you your stupid claw back." One of the talons of the claw was bent at a strange angle from where he had landed on it, but it would still be worth the money that Lucan Valerius would give her for it. The Redguard took off towards the creature, sword in his hands.
Élusia took the moment in which the being was distracted to run back up the stairs, falling into an uneasy limp as she reached the top of the stairs. Her ankle was pure agony now, and she knew that she ought to have stayed in Riverwood for a few extra days in order to let it heal completely. She had no idea what she was searching for, but she started where Jonna had left off by smashing the lock on the chest with the blade of her axe as the clash of metal on metal began to bounce from the walls.
The chest was empty save for a few items of incredibly rusty armour, some disintegrated scrolls of parchment and a relatively small pouch of coins that the Breton found herself dipping into before shaking her head when she heard her companion grunt with pain. She looked down to see that the undead thing had smashed his shield into Jonna's face and broken his nose. Blood was gushing like a river as the Redguard was forced back against a wall.
Élusia picked one of the ancient pieces of scrap metal from the chest and threw it at the creature, catching it on the back of the head with a loud clang. It turned angrily towards her, and this time when it sent its torrent of magic in her direction she managed to get her ward up in time. Instead of being thrown she was instead pushed backwards by the sheer force that hit her, almost as if the elements were coalescing to move her against her will and in spite of the shielding that she conjured.
She returned to the altar-coffin to see Jonna drop to his knees, his sword up to the hilt in the undead's spine. He spat blood and at least one tooth onto the ground, using his hands to hold the majority of his weight away from the floor. Staggering to his feet, Élusia saw the damage that the shield had done. His nose and upper lip were crushed together into a bloody mess, and he had enough crimson streaking down his cuirass to make him sway unsteadily. She made to descend the stairs, but he waved her away and pointed towards the altar. "Dragonstone," he wheezed, exhausted. He put a foot on the dead being's back and hauled his sword from it, pushing back his cowl and stepping under the nearest waterfall, relying heavily on the stone wall behind it to keep him upright.
The Breton examined the contents of the coffin in front of her, largely fragments of bandage, swinging her bad ankle over the side so that she could reach inside of it with her arm. She pushed the debris aside, grimacing at the thought of how many nasty things could quite easily begin crawling up her fingers if she left them in there for too long. At the very base, underneath a layer of sickly gloop that had probably once been flesh, she touched something with defined edges, warm stone despite the cold air. Plucking it out, she examined it.
The object was five sided, and looked to depict a rough map of Skyrim studded with stars in a number of locations. When she flipped it and brushed off the slime with her sleeve she saw similar glyphs to the ones that had been on the dragon wall, deep gashes in the stone and small punctures. It looked promising.
"Have you found it?" Jonna asked her, his voice quieted by the water pouring down on his head.
"I think so." Élusia climbed down from the edge of the coffin, trying to put as little stress on her ankle as possible. She doubted it would ever heal fully now. Limping off it heavily, she descended the steps to the waterfall and showed the carved stone to the Redguard, trying not to look at the mangled flesh of his face for too long. "These scratches are the same as on that wall. I think they're some kind of writing." He secured it clumsily into his belt. Against her better judgement, she offered him a hand from the torrent.
His steps were unsteady as a child first learning to walk, and they ascended the final set of stairs behind the dragon wall carefully into a small alcove of cave. Jonna leant against the wall at the top, exhausted by his wounds and the exertion of fighting. It was only then that Élusia noticed one of the cuts to his forearm was not bleeding but frozen, the whole limb a rather dangerous shade of icy blue. An enchanted sword, apparently. She imagined the chill running through him right now was similar to that which she had experienced due to the venom from the spider. If she had known more magic, she would have attempted to heal it.
A small podium with a lever stood at the end of the tunnel before a featureless stone wall and dead end. The thought of attempting to see Jonna back through the barrow was enough to compel the Breton to twist it and her efforts were rewarded as the stone shuddered and lifted away into the ceiling in a cloud of dust that made her cough.
The Redguard used her shoulder to keep his balance as they followed the tunnel to a small chamber. They found themselves on a ledge above a little room containing nothing more than a small offering of coins and gems and an opening to the province. Cold air whistled inside and sent a chill down Élusia's spine. It was dark outside, the night consuming everything with its hungry shadows.
"We won't make it to Whiterun tonight," the woman muttered. Her companion could barely walk, and the low temperatures would probably cause him to lose his arm if she tried to get him to the city. "We'll stay in the Sleeping Giant." She patted the small purse of coins hidden beneath her clothing and mourned the loss of them in paying for a room for a man that she didn't even enjoy the company of. To her relief, he did not argue.
Jonna managed to jump from the ledge somewhat awkwardly, stumbling as he hit the floor but remaining upright. Élusia was even less graceful, her bad ankle buckling under the sudden impact with the floor so that the ground rushed up to catch her.
When she regained her composure the Redguard was rifling through a small battered chest at the base of the shrine. He tossed her a weathered coin purse that clinked with the promise of money and pressed a fragment of amethyst into her hand when she went to help him to his feet. "Thanks," he grunted. She couldn't tell what he was thanking her for. At least the additional funds meant that she would not have to worry about paying for their stay in Riverwood.
They made their way down the mountain so slowly that dawn was stretching its claws across the sky by the time that they reached the village. Stumbling through the door of the inn, they were greeted by the friendly sight of a dying fire and the smell of burnt stew that seemed more comforting now that it had the last time Élusia had entered this place.
Orgnar grunted from behind the counter and a few moments later appeared above it to survey the wounded adventurers from outside. "By the Eight…" he murmured, climbing to his feet and stomping around the bar to where the pair were sprawled in front of the fire. "You ever gonna walk in here without being injured, girl?" The Nord hauled Jonna onto a chair and went to fetch more wood for the fire. When he returned he was carrying a pair of moth-eaten blankets, and tossed one to each of them. "Delphine ain't here… Said she had an errand and would be back in a couple of days. Where'd you run off to?"
"Bleak Falls Barrow." Élusia pulled the blanket around herself and watched as Orgnar prodded the fire with a long stick. "We'll be gone tomorrow, but Jonna was in such a bad way that I didn't think he'd make it to Whiterun. Once he's warmed up a bit we should be okay."
"Should probably get that lip seen to…" In his chair, Jonna just stared into the flames without making so much as a sound. "Don't think Delphine has any potions left after that ankle of yours."
"I'll get him to the city later. All he needs now is some rest, warmth and maybe some food." She pressed a handful of coins in Orgnar's fingers. "Hopefully that should be enough."
He handed them back. "We'll settle your debt when you're better," he replied gently. "Delphine wouldn't like it, but she ain't here right now. You two look like you both need some rest, and it don't sit right in my bones taking your money afore you're well. Sit tight, and I'll make you up some food."
Author Note - Sorry this took so long to write, but I had an awful lot of coursework last month. At least it only took one month instead of three this time, eh? Anyway, thanks to those of you who reviewed. Always appreciated :) Let me know if you see any glaring errors in it, alright?