Qiuck note: Yer, 'tis a long one. Although this is where the story kicks off, again, forgive the length. Tehe, I don't think I've ever heard of a 5000+ word chapter *scratcheshead&drools* Oh well. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
Chapter VII - The Whispering Walls
Following behind the Jarl, Fehn sighed. She was tired and her shoulder pained her. All she wanted to do was fall into bed, not swap words with a pompous court wizard. If court wizard's in Skyrim were anything like the ones in Cyrodiil she knew exactly what to expect.
"Ah, Jarl. What can I do for you?"
Fehn rolled her eyes as the snide wizard slumped around his alchemy table. He was a tall man; his lithe frame was draped in robes. He had a long down-turned mouth and big spoiled eyes. Fehn was reminded of a frog as she looked upon the wizard. Standing beside the Jarl, she shifted her weight and put a hand on her hip and listened to him,
"Farengar. I've brought you an assistant, one who can help you with this whole dragon business."
The wizard turned one of his froggy eyes on her and sniffed,
"Well, how able is she? No dis-respect, my Jarl, but she's rather...small."
The Jarl stifled a grin, and Fehn folded her arms.
"Oh, she's able. Now, please explain to her what it is you need doing."
Farengar bowed and said to Fehn,
"Yes. I do need an assistant. Well, more of a mercenary as such. I need someone to explore an ancient crypt and root around for an equally ancient stone tablet which may - or may not be - there."
Keeping her eyes on him, Fehn said pertly,
"Just tell me what I have to do."
Farengar scoffed and spread his arms,
"Your eagerness or brutishness proceeds you. Better to know what you're doing, get paid and be off, right?"
She remained silent. Clearing his throat, Farengar continued,
"Anyway, the crypt is located at Bleak Falls Barrow, just north of the village...Riverwood? Yes. Just north of Riverwood. If you go and retrieve the tablet it may give me some crucial information regarding the dragons, and a better means to understand them."
Fehn cocked an eyebrow,
"I thought you were looking for a means to destroy or defeat them?"
Farengar sniffed and glanced over to Balgruuf and frowned. The Jarl nodded and waved his hand impatiently, motioning the wizard to get on with it. Forcing a smile down on Fehn, he sniffed,
"Well, you see. To best an opponent one is better to understand them first. You see, I think it may be better for us to study the dragons as best we can. To learn about them, and discover a weakness. Understand?"
Fehn nodded and tucked her knuckles under her chin. Her frown deepened as she stared unblinkingly at the alchemy table. She commented in a mirthless voice,
"So, when I retrieve this tablet - if it's there, I should bring it back to you so you can...study? That's correct? So you can better understand dragons? Alright. So say that it's not there - like you said, it may not exist - what do we do then? If a dragon attacks, I presume that we would all lay down our weapons and start screaming in fear because we don't understand the dragon, what it's doing or how to defend ourselves?"
Staring up at him, she unfolded her knuckles and raised her eyebrows at the gaping wizard. The Jarl stifled another laugh as he watched the interplay between the two, Fehn added pleasantly,
"Well I just hope that this tablet does in fact exist, and that you do not in fact presume in the future, court wizard. I'll find your tablet for you."
With that she returned her gaze to Balgruuf. With a wink, he waved away Farengar's protests. Sobering, he said to her - a grin still played on his face,
"Alright. Bleak Falls Barrow. You go there and find this tablet. Real or not, it's our best hope of defending ourselves from these dragons or dragon. May the gods watch over your battles, friend. Remember, this is a priority now. We need to find out more before we mount a defense or offense. Now go. Make haste and don't fail me."
With a nod, Fehn turned on her heel and exited through the large entryway to the court wizard's alchemy lab. She shook her head at the arrogance of mages and Jarls in general. Clambering down the stairs, she found her hand creeping up to grasp her shoulder once again. Grimacing, she peered under her tunic at the binds which Gerdur had put on her before she left - merely as a barrier between wound and clothes. Fehn sighed as the binds were seeped in blood. It seemed the fight with the wolves and the journey, with Irileth's rough housing added had taxed heavily on the wound. A guard who saw her standing in the middle of the main entrance staring under her tunic cleared his throat,
"You look tired, friend. The Bannered Mare has warm beds and cold mead - you look like you could use both."
The Bannered Mare was a well-lit and cozy little inn. Poking her head around the big main door, Fehn heard an older Nord woman welcome her,
"Come in, come in. Here, have a seat by the fire. We've got food and drink for sale and beds to rent."
Taking a seat at the bar, Fehn rested her hands on the cool wood. Before her was the older Nord woman. She was sweeping the bar with a rag, her graying hair was pulled back to show an open typical Nord face. Angled features and full lips, she smiled at Fehn,
"What can I get for you?"
"A small ale, please."
She nodded,
"Of course. Coming right up."
She disappeared beneath the bar to retrieve a tankard; Fehn leaned over and watched her as she did. The woman reemerged with a tankard and a bottle of ale. Pouring the contents of the brown bottle into the tankard, she slid it towards Fehn and accepted her five coins. Sipping at the ale, Fehn felt a little better after the day's doings. Gazing over the rim of her tankard, she saw the inn keeper's eyes on her,
"You're not from around here are you?"
Finishing her mouthful of ale and placing the tankard down, Fehn shook her head.
"Uh, no. I-I'm from Cyrodiil."
The woman nodded and smiled a little thinly, extending a large but surprisingly smooth hand, she said warmly,
"I'm Hulda."
Taking the extended hand, Fehn smiled back,
"Fehn. Tell me, what's the news around Whiterun?"
Hulda snorted and resumed wiping the bar,
"News? The city has been shut off for the last four days! Not much news coming in or out. You're the biggest news I've heard since nigh a fortnight ago, and that's saying something. Whiterun's the heart of Skyrim. If you're wanting something local, I'll tell you this, "
Fehn nodded, leaning over her tankard, eagerly,
"The Companions, in Jorrvaskr? You've heard of them, right?"
Again, Fehn nodded.
"I hear they are taking new members. Maybe you should look into that. A wanderer like you - especially one so small must have been bein' looked after by Ysgramor."
Leaning back, Fehn pulled in her lips and averted her gaze. Taking another gulp of her ale, she asked,
"How long have you been running this inn?"
Sucking in her breath, Hulda gazed past her and moved her lips silently as she rounded up the years,
"Oh, I'd say around twenty and five years. I enjoy this work well enough, but I'm ready to retire. I have been thinking of selling the inn to Ysolda, she's an aspiring young girl. Reminds me of myself at her age."
She laughed and shook her head, as Fehn downed the last of her ale.
"I'd like to rent a room, if that's alright?"
The older woman stuffed the rag into the pouch in her dress and took the coins Fehn offered to her. Moving out from behind the bar, she said,
"Sure thing it's yours for a day."
Fehn thanked her and followed the woman as she lead her up to the second floor. Opening a set of double doors, the woman waved her inside. It was a spacious cozy room which overlooked the little mead hall that she had just been in. Hulda smiled as Fehn gazed around the room with a grin,
"Let me know if there's anything you need, child."
Fehn turned to her and waved her comment away,
"No, no. This will do perfectly. Thank you."
Hulda smiled and bowed her head. Closing the door, she retreated back downstairs. Removing her cuirass and boots, Fehn lay on the bed and let herself sink into the feather mattress. Her eyelids heavy and her shoulder throbbing, she could feel herself being lulled to sleep. From downstairs below in the mead hall she heard the bard strike a chord and begin a song,
"We drink to our youth, to days come and gone. For the age of aggression is just about done."
Smiling at the familiar melody, she was instantly reminded of home, and just as she slipped into slumber a tear crept out from under her eyelashes.
Grasping at the map, Fehn squinted from behind the rag she had wrapped around her head and face as a paltry barrier between her and the gales which blew along the cusp of the mountain. Just north of Riverwood. Just North! That lying bastard! I have a good mind to crack that blasted stone tablet - which may or may not be there - over his damned head! The journey had taken her on a more North-westerly route to Bleak Falls, needless to say, Fehn was furious. After heading north, it was only when she was face to face with a big immovable cliff face did she realize that Farengar had sent her in the wrong direction. Cursing her luck, she had to move around the cliff and try and not fall off the edge. Then to make matters worse, she ran into bandits. The only good thing about that encounter was that she managed to scavenge a map from one of their lifeless bodies. Digging her leather boots into the snow, she managed to hoist herself up a ledge and roll onto her back. Gasping, she exclaimed as the cold air seemed to cut into her throat. I hate snow. She thought bitterly. Rolling over onto her side, she squinted at a shadow in the distance. Suddenly an arrow was whizzing towards her, rolling back a little, she snapped her head down as it embedded itself into the snow next to her head. Jumping to her feet, she sought cover behind a large boulder which was jutting out of the snow.
Equipping the hunting bow Gerdur had given her; she nocked an arrow and took aim. She wasn't much of a shot, especially in weather conditions like the ones she was in, but drawing a breath, she focused. Releasing the iron arrow, she felt her hair shift as it panged out of her grip and shot through the air. She heard a cry of pain as the arrow struck her attacker in the chest. Breaking cover, she crouched and moved towards Bleak Falls Barrow.
"What was that?"
She heard one of the bandits cry out. Her eyes bulged from under her make-shift cowl. Nocking another arrow, she aimed again. Hearing the footsteps of the bandits grow louder as they approached, she let loose her arrow. It struck the first in the shoulder, causing her to reel back with a cry. The other harried her with his sword drawn. Brandishing her own, Fehn engaged him in a brief flurry before she managed to slice his belly open. He struck the ground, his blood staining the snow. Hopping over the dying bandit, she ran up the stairs to find the bandit she'd struck with the arrow crawling around the icy ground. Reaching for her dropped sword, the bandit cursed and ill-wished Fehn as she placed a foot on the sword. She was about to deal the final strike when the bandit produced a dagger from the inside of her fur armor. Slashing at Fehn's legs, she managed to nick her on the thigh. Letting out an enraged hiss, Fehn quickly took her sword and buried it in the bandit's chest. Gripping her injured thigh, Fehn grunted in pain and annoyance. Bandits everywhere in this land! It's a wonder there's enough people in Skyrim to be anything else! Choking down a healing potion, Fehn waited for the concoction to take effect. While she stood collecting herself, she noted the tall arches that led into Bleak Falls Barrow, and noted with annoyance that she could have come up from the front as opposed to the side where all the bandits were.
"Bloody Farengar."
She muttered as she stalked into the crypt. It was no warmer in the crypt than it was outside. Pulling back the rag that obscured her face; she sighed and ruffled her dark hair. Shaking her head, she looked around. The large hall was desolate and derelict. The roof had caved in and snowflakes drifted lazily down, illuminated by the shaft of light that streamed through the hole. An orange glow caught her attention, crouching down, she moved towards it cautiously. When she was a few meters closer, she realized that it was some more bandits. Rolling her eyes, she slid up against a natural pillar and listened while they argued amongst themselves. Nocking an arrow, she wasn't really paying attention,
"I want my cut!"
One of them hissed. Another - a man, sighed and grunted in response,
"You'll get your damned cut. Just stop your whining."
The sound of a sword being drawn sliced through the air. Fehn raised her eyebrows as she fixed the arrow, her mouth downturned, she nodded. She would be happier if they just killed each other anyway. Save her some arrows.
"I can't trust you with that claw!"
Claw? Fehn's ears pricked up and she turned her head closer to them so she could hear better.
"For the love of Kynareth, do you think I'm gonna' shift you on this damned claw?"
The female bandit sneered,
"It's not just a claw is it though? It's solid gold, why would you share such a profit when you're the one who stole it? Of course you'd shift me, you milk drinker! Now Arvel's gone with it, and we're stuck waiting until you two decide it's time to kill me off!"
A golden claw? Very interesting. With one fluid movement, Fehn drew her bow and pulled the feathers of her iron arrow back. Keeping both eyes open, she let loose the arrow with a twang and it pierced the female bandit first. She went down, falling backwards down the stairs into the next passage. Nocking another quickly, she'd lost the element of surprise as a big fat burly man ran towards her swinging an axe and shield. Knocking her with the shield, Fehn gasped as she lost grip of her bow. The bandit cried out and brought the axe down quickly. Fehn rolled out of the way as the axe struck the hard ground. Grabbing an arrow from her quiver, she haphazardly ducked under the man's enraged sweep attack and stabbed him in the gut with the arrow. With a gasp he stopped. Wrenching the arrow free, Fehn kicked him back and finished him swiftly with her sword. Taking a step back, Fehn sheathed her sword and quietly made her way to the bandit's little camp fire. Rifling through their belongings, she plundered what she needed, potions, gold and arrows. Closing the chest, she kneeled by the bedroll and gazed into the fire for a moment. Retrieving a torch from her pouch, she lit it on the fire and set off down the passageway, stepping over the dead bandit as she did. It lead down into an eerie crypt, Fehn coughed and choked down a balk at the smell and sight of the decomposing skeletons and half-rotted corpses. The honored dead? She thought, bewildered that anyone could consider being buried in this smelly old hole honored.
Gingerly she picked her way through the passage, looting any gold that she noticed lying around. Stepping along a particularly thin corridor, she eyed her torch and decided it too narrow to take in with her lit. Scraping the burning end along the dusty floor, it extinguished easily enough. Throwing it to the side, she was engulfed in perpetual darkness as she squeezed her small frame in the narrow opening.
Krosis.
Fehn stopped dead. Pressed up against the dark wall, she stopped breathing. Listening carefully, she heard a rustling sound. Like bone chimes, she heard the sound of ancient bones unfolding.
Dir, Lir!
Throwing herself side on out of the passageway, she hit the ground. Glaring into the darkness, she brandished her sword and got to her feet.
"Who's there?"
Unslaad...Krosis, Lir.
She screamed as a pair glowing blue eyes emerged from the darkness, wielding flame, it engulfed the room. Slamming herself up against the side of the chamber, Fehn watched horrified as the skeletal creature was incinerated by its own doing. As it burned, it turned and gazed at her, his eyes as blue as sapphires.
Lir, Dovahkiin.
Pointing a flaming finger at her, it stated before becoming one with the ashes at its feet.
Unslaad Krosis, Dovahkiin.
The fire died out and Fehn was left panting in the darkness. Clutching her sword, her hands shaking, she leaned forward and let out a deep breath. Her hair hung lazily, obscuring her vision even more. Trembling, she stood upright and hopped over the dead creature's remains. Entering another chamber, she kept her sword at the ready.
"Hello...Is-is anyone there?"
Fehn stopped. Crouching, she took a silent breath and sliced the cobwebs away from her face with her sword. Squinting in the black chamber, she rubbed her nose as more cobwebs tickled her face.
"Harknir? Bjorn, Soling? Is that you?"
Peeking out from behind the wall, Fehn was momentarily blinded by the unexpected light in the cobweb covered chamber. Confused, she frowned at the sight. A Dunmer was flailing around stuck in a huge web. Standing up right, Fehn walked towards him,
"No! No! Watch out! D-don't..."
He was cut off as a huge frostbite spider plunged down from the ceiling. With a start, Fehn fell back. Upon seeing the disgusting creature, Fehn felt a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly she could remember the numbness of her arms and legs as she fell outside the cave leading out of Helgen. The sting in her eyes and the feeling of her body becoming utterly unresponsive. She was shaken out of her frightened reverie by the spider who snapped its poison filled pincers at her.
"Ahh! Kill it! Kill it!"
Facing the huge spider, Fehn slashed at the creature's liquid eyes. With a grunt she ran towards it. With a nimble jump, she placed a foot on its bony head and launched herself onto its hairy hind-quarters. Gripping the fur as it's screeched and writhed under her, she stabbed downwards. Keeping her eyes and mouth closed, so that none of the vile animal's blood would get in, she stabbed at it repeatedly until it was still. With a sigh, she jumped down from the creature's body. Wiping the green blood from her face and hands, she shivered. Making her way over to the trapped elf, she cocked an eyebrow at him,
"Oh, thank the gods. Thank the gods you killed it!"
Fehn looked back at the dead spider, turning back to him, she nodded.
"Cut me down! Cut me down, you won't believe what the Nord's have hidden down here! You won't believe the power they've hidden."
Gripping the hilt of her sword, Fehn pointed it at the elf,
"The Golden Claw. Give it to me. Give that to me first and I'll cut you down."
The elf rolled his ruby eyes and made an irritated clicking sound with his tongue. Motioning to his web binds, he said in a matter-of-factly voice,
"Well I can't do that right now, can I? I'm trapped! Cut me down and I'll share everything I know with you. The claw, the door, the hall of stories. I know everything!"
Fehn frowned,
"Not enough to not get yourself trapped."
The elf huffed and flexed his arms and legs in a vain attempt to free himself,
"I know...It was that damn spider! I'm sure I was its next meal...Oh please, just cut me down."
Fehn relented and said shortly,
"Fine. Stay still."
Slashing at the webbing around his wrists and legs, the Dunmer exclaimed happily,
"There! There! I-I can feel myself coming loose!"
With one final slash the elf fell to his knees before her. Before he could sit up, he was eyeing the tip of Fehn's blade. Frowning at the glinting iron, he glared at her. Extending a gloved hand, Fehn demanded in a dangerous voice,
"The Claw."
His crimson eyes never left her as he reached into his pack. As quick as an ice wraith, the Dunmer threw a large piece of ingot at her. With a cry it struck her on the head. Fehn fell back with a dull thud beside the spider. Grasping at her head, the room was spinning; she grimaced as she heard the elf run off and shout,
"Why should I share my treasure with you?"
A lump had already formed on her head as her vision doubled. Gripping at the sore flesh, she exhaled and got to her feet rather unsteadily. Recovering quickly, she retrieved the ingot and made chase after the Dunmer. Crashing down a flight of stairs, she heard the sound of swords crossing swords. Going a little more slowly, she saw that the elf was locked in a flurry with two more of the skeletal creatures. They looked just like the one who had incinerated itself in front of her. With a smirk, she tossed the ingot. It smacked into the elf's ankle and he went down with a cry. Joining the flurry, she used her sword to trip one of the skeletons and slice at his chest. The other came silently from behind her; she turned quickly enough to parry its heavier blow from a greatsword. Kicking the creature's rotted abdomen, she cried out as she then stabbed it viciously. Turning on the elf, she kneeled down and grabbed him by the front of his hide armor. Her black eyes bored into his red ones. Her face very close to his, she demanded simply,
"Give me the Claw."
With a sigh, the Dunmer produced the Golden Claw from his pack. Taking it, she nodded once and said in fake pleasantry,
"Thank you."
Letting him go, he fell back and smacked his head off the ground. Turning her back on him, she admired the piece of gold. She noted the symbols that cascaded down underside of the claw. A bear, a moth and an owl. Frowning at the strange assembly of animals, she shrugged. Turning back, she went rigid. The Dunmer was smiling; his fangs gleamed in the chamber. He had nocked an arrow and was aiming for her. Tossing his head, he said,
"Alright. Put the claw down and step away."
Fehn nodded slowly. Bending down, she placed the claw down gently with a metallic clank. Moving backwards a little, she kept her face expressionless as the Dunmer moved closer to retrieve the claw.
"Ha, thought you'd bested a Mer did you? What a fool you are, human."
Fehn watched as he moved closer. His muscles were contorted and pulsing as he held his arrow in place. Fehn's eyes wandered down to his feet and widened. There was a circular sort of hollow, only it was slightly elevated up from the ground. Like a pressure plate...She thought slowly. Without turning her head, she looked to the side and saw lots of jagged spikes protruding from a grate that extended the length of the small chamber. Oh no. The Dunmer moved closer, laughing at her, he said in an evil voice,
"Say goodbye."
With that, Fehn shook her head and waved her hands,
"No! Don't move any furth..."
It was too late. The betraying sound of stone grinding along stone gave it away. There was a snap of string somewhere, the elf's eyes widened, Fehn turned. Jumping backwards, Fehn heard the creak of the wood as the grate smoothly slammed open. The elf's arrow whizzed past her head and shattered against the stone wall to her left. She screamed as the elf was punctured by lots of iron spikes. Fehn watched as his throat contracted and blood spilled out from his mouth. Her hands covered her mouth and her eyes widened as the grate closed, dragging the now dead Dunmer back with it as it slowly creaked up against the wall and the pressure plate slowly pushed itself back up and waited for it's next unsuspecting trespasser.
Her legs felt frozen. For a moment, Fehn found herself simply sitting in the entryway to the chamber breathing in the darkness. No wonder Farengar couldn't find anyone to come up to this deathtrap! I would father face a horde of Orcs than traverse any deeper into this crypt... Painstakingly she hauled herself up and plucked the claw from the ground. Gingerly, she picked her way past the unfortunate Dunmer, turning back towards him; she placed her hand into his satchel and retrieved a journal. Blinking down at the strange handwriting, she moved out of the dark chamber and thrust the journal into the light of a greasy torch. Flicking through the pages, she noticed the term "Hall of Stories". Intrigued, she read that the claw and the hall were connected. Slamming the book closed, she placed it in her own pouch and continued deeper into the crypt to find the Hall of Stories. It was an odd feeling to walk amongst the silent dead and wonder if one would start groaning and come at her with a claymore, but none-the-less, she tried to keep the strangely animated dead from her mind as she picked her way through the dusty tombs.
Lighting a torch, she coughed as a sudden plume of smoke expelled from the flames. Waving away the smog, she frowned up at two large iron and wood doors. Pushing on the cool wood, she gawped. It was a long passageway littered with the bones of past bandits, explorers, thieves and soldiers. However, the bones that were speckled along the stone floor weren't what caught her attention. On each wall to the side of the passage, there were intricate runes and designs. They were all Nordic in their execution, all flowing and sentimental. All extremely reverent to their warrior ancestors. Taking a step forward, Fehn could never imagine her people in Cyrodiil ever revering their dead like this and scolded herself for doubting that the dead in this crypt were not honored. Her fingers slid along the pictures and in the grooves were the stone had been carved.
"This is beautiful…"
She breathed to herself as she walked along the passageway, utterly entranced by the Nord's art. Coming to a stop, she eyed a large stone door. Three symbols decorated the door. A bear, a moth and an owl. With a smile, she produced the claw and gazed down at the familiar symbols. Twisting one of the circular panels, she turned it so that it represented a bear. Following the animal symbols on the claw, she made the medium one in the middle a moth, and finally the smallest circle, an owl. Placing the claw in the alcove shaped like it, she stepped back and watched as the three circles all intertwined and spun around in the unlocking sequence. Finally a stony click resonated from behind the door. Removing the claw, she placed it back in her pouch and waited for the door to slide open. Grasping her torch, she followed the passage through to a cave. Bats squeaked and flied past her frantically. Covering her face, she watched as they flew off. Returning her curious gaze over to the bright light that was illuminating the chamber, she extinguished her torch and walked towards the light. She was surprised to see that there was an alter just up ahead, gazing up at the light she realized it was moonlight streaming in from a gaping hole in the ceiling. Climbing the stairs, she slipped as they were thick with slime. Landing on her hands, she mad a face and wiped her hands on her hips and clambered up the remaining steps. Fehn stood atop the alter and looked around for a tablet or something akin to a stone. Rummaging through a few of the open crypts proved fruitless. Sighing, she sat back on her hunches and wondered if Farengar had sent her on a wild goose chase.
Het nok faal…Vahlon Deinmaar.
Fehn turned. A frown etched its way on to her face. Standing, she eyed the huge granite wall that seemed to be ushering and uttering words to her. Taking a few steps towards the wall, she heard the resonating words again, closing her eyes, she almost understood, but without comprehension.
Do Dovahgolz arhk aan fus do…Unslaad rahgol arhnk…Vulom.
The tip of her nose was touching the cool stone now. Running her fingers along the scratched words, she gaped as one of the etchings began to glow. Suddenly, like a babe learning to utter their first word, like "ma" or "da", Fehn could feel a word escaping her throat. Gazing down at the floor, she whispered,
"Fus."
Her eyes widened as a little rock moved forward slightly as she uttered the word. Gripping her head, she tried to make sense of what was happening. She didn't have long to ponder when a huge crash startled her. Whipping her head around, she watched as a tall crowned skeletal abomination clambered out of tomb. His bright blue eyes fixed themselves on her. Grasping at his sword, she held it above his crown and screamed,
Lir! Lir, Dovahkiin! Unslaad…Kiin!
With that, he charged towards her with his sword at the ready. Smashing into the granite wall, his sword embedded itself into the stone beside her head. Rolling out of the way, Fehn brandished her own Imperial sword and slashed at the creature's back. It made a strange crackling sound; it took Fehn a moment to realize that it was laughing. It's sword still embedded in the stone, it turned to her and bellowed,
FusROH!
Blue air crashed into her, throwing her back. She landed painfully against the tomb of the creature, slamming her back into the ledge of the stone. Gasping, she felt tears prick her eyes. Ripping free its sword, the crowned skeletal creature, ran for her again. Without thinking, Fehn hurled her sword like a spear. Within a second it struck the creature in the chest, reeling back, he screamed in pain. Taking the opportunity, Fehn kicked at his weak legs of bone. He fell with a grunt and screamed. Dropping the greatsword as he did, he thrashed his jagged hands at Fehn. Grabbing his rusted greatsword, she stabbed it through his skeletal head.
Krosis…Unslaad. Kiin.
Fehn heard as he faded away back to the void. Retrieving her sword from his crusty chest, she made a face as it was covered in bone meal. Checking in the tomb of the skeletal creature, her face lit up as her eyes fell on a tablet that was wedged inside. Gripping the heavy piece of stone, she hoisted it out of the crypt and managed to squeeze it inside her pouch. Huffing up towards the hole in the ceiling, she gripped on to a ledge and just managed to pull herself up. Seeing a small opening to her left, she ducked under some hanging vines and found herself outside. Breathing in the fresh air of the plains, she leaned against the cave wall. Breathing heavily, she hoped that she would be able to get back to Whiterun on time.
