Chapter XXI – Of Crypts and Kings

"Alright, soldiers, we get the crown, we go home. Nice and simple, now follow my lead. Ralof, you take point and lead Belthor and Kiriigan around the throne and set up a perimeter. The rest, you follow me."

With that they dispersed. Fehn followed closely behind Galmar. The general turned a swift eye on her,

"This is the priority here, Unblooded, get that crown at any costs."

Fehn nodded but shirked back a little as Galmar pressed his wrinkled face closer to her own,

"At any costs, Imperial."

He growled. Fehn's throat contracted and she nodded again.

"Yes, general."

Galmar bobbed his head curtly and resumed his lead. The air was surprisingly crisp as they crept along an alcove, Fehn could feel cold sweat as it began to build on her forehead, every fibre of her body was telling her to stay alert. Without warning a loud crackling sound resonated along the rough walls. Snapping her head upwards, Fehn sucked in a breath when she saw a monstrous Draugre emerge from the walls. Debris temporarily blinded the Imperial, turning her back to the monster Fehn rapidly rubbed her eyes of the dust and flinched as she heard blades cross while she was incapacitated.

Dropping to her knees, Fehn scrambled aimlessly to retrieve her sword as more and more Draugre cornered the Stormcloak forces. Galmar snarled and viciously slashed at one of the Draugre with his axe, the satisfying crunch that sounded as the axe connected with the monstrous creature caused Galmar to shudder and in turn, land another swift punch on a second Draugre which came up behind him. Making a grab for her sword, Fehn laced her fingers around the pommel and tried to snatch it back; the blade didn't move an inch. Grimacing, Fehn tugged harder and stopped when she saw a large bony foot slam down on the flat of the blade.

The Imperial stopped tugging and gazed up slowly. Her eyes met with an arrow pointed directly at her. Focusing on the Draugre, Fehn locked eyes with the abomination,

"Unslaad…Krosis."

With that the monster unleashed a feral scream which made Fehn grip both her ears. Staring at the Draugre, Fehn's eyes widened as she realised the thing had a sword protruding from its belly. Narrowing her eyes, Fehn watched as the Draugre fell to the floor next to her. As the skeletal figure fell away, Ralof was revealed holding her sword and for the second time that evening, returned the Imperial's sword to her. Accepting the weapon, Fehn commented in an exasperated voice,

"Perfect timing, really, just perfect timing."

The Nord man nodded and frowned down at her,

"Watch yourself!"

Fehn returned the nod and her own brow furrowed as a Draugre smashed past Ralof and hurled him to the side. With a grunt the blond landed on the ground, Fehn braced herself and cast her sword aside and held her position as the Draugre drew nearer. Ralof watched astonished as Fehn caught and grappled with the monstrosity, gulping down air, Ralof thrust himself to his feet and slashed at a Draugre that was attempting to flank Fehn as she wrestled with the stinking husk. Suddenly Fehn let out a pained yelp causing Galmar to turn to her. She released another bellow as the Draugre growled and stuck his bony head into her own, head-butting her to the ground. Winded, Fehn grunted as the Draugre gripped a handful of her dark tresses and dragged her off the floor and into the air.

Grimacing, Fehn tried to dislodge herself from the creature's iron grip. She began to panic when she saw the Draugre inhale deeply and braced herself for the inevitable shout it was about to unleash onto her. Closing her eyes, Fehn held her breath – expecting the pain. It was excruciating. Screaming as the blast hit her, Fehn felt her limbs go limp as she was tossed across the chamber and down from the marble plateau. Yelping and grunting as she crashed down the cold, hard steps, Fehn's head was spinning as she finally sprawled out at the bottom with a dull thud. Her sword followed close behind with a metallic clatter to stand opposite the sound of her own delicate flesh thudding down the steps. Baring her teeth, Fehn slumped over on to her side and her vision blurred. Coughing loudly, the Imperial cursed the Draugre, rubbing her elbow which was hurting her, Fehn grabbed her sword and staggered up the steps to the plateau so she could resume the fight.

At the top of the steps was Galmar with an expression that was positively thunderous. Clasping her arm when she was close enough, the general thrust her forward into the fray,

"Defend your shield-siblings, milk drinker!"

Fehn threw him a dark look and parried a blow from an ancient battle axe as it fell towards her. Deftly, she managed to out-manoeuvre the hulking Draugre. Finally after another ten minutes of furious blows and flurries, the last of the wretched Draugre went down. Panting, the Stormcloak force was battered almost beyond repair. They had lost a further two men, now all they had left was Galmar, Fehn, Ralof and Kiriigan. Fehn was sitting on her heels recovering from the battle when the Stormcloak, Kiriigan offered her a gloved hand,

"You fought bravely there, Imperial."

She said in low voice which was filled with admiration. Fehn accepted the bigger woman's hand and scoffed,

"Please, I got thrown down a flight of stairs and I'm positive I may have a bruise on every single bit of my body."

The Stormcloak giggled and shook her head,

"Yes, we will all have a few scars after this war, but you mustn't lose hope. You are a warrior."

Graciously Fehn bobbed her head and thanked Kiriigan for her kind words and excused herself politely and regrouped with Galmar and Ralof. Galmar was absently grooming his gingery beard with his hand and listening to Ralof recount the news of their casualties, Galmar listened until Ralof was done before deciding grimly.

"We simply do not have the man-power or time to escort the bodies of the fallen home just now, Ralof. I'm afraid we'll need to send a party back after our return to Windhelm. This does not please me; every warrior is worth his salt down here…I hate to abandon anyone – even in death."

Fehn watched as Ralof nodded in agreement. Clapping the younger man on the shoulder, Galmar said,

"You have been invaluable in this campaign, Ralof, should you survive the next twenty minutes you'll be getting a recommendation to Ulfric."

Ralof had the sense not to beam at Galmar's praise, unlike Fehn. With another quick exchange, Galmar nodded for Ralof to rest up for a few moments before they went to retrieve the crown. Quietly Fehn watched Galmar approach her, the general had a steely glint in his eye. Standing before her, he folded his meaty arms over his chest and glared at her,

"Bad footwork, terrible balance, small physique, outrageous posturing and almost no natural talent! Tell me, Unblooded. What am I to do with you? I'll give you your due; you have guts, after a fall like that you did come back, but…"

Fehn's eyes narrowed as the general sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders,

"You just seem to be holding back, Imperial. Your mistakes could cost lives, I understand being an Imperial that Nord life may not hold much with you, but as your general and superior, I won't hesitate sticking you myself if your folly jeopardizes the mission or endangers the lives of your shield-siblings. Are we clear, Imperial?"

Fehn's jaw was set, her teeth grinding in her mouth. Stiffly she nodded her agreement and kept her eyes downcast. Tapping his nose, Galmar leaned in and said,

"Remember what I told you, girl; no one is above anyone here. Dragon blood or not."

As they gathered themselves together, Fehn playfully jabbed Ralof on the arm,

"Well look at that, I thought you were already an esteemed soldier?"

After a vacant glance Ralof cringed and rubbed the base of his neck,

"Oh yes, about that…Well, I've been with the Stormcloaks since the rebellion kicked off, but I spent much of that time training up with the other initiates and going to Serpent Island for my final initiation. Unlike you, we have no special treatment."

Although he had intended it as humour, Fehn was stung by Ralof's last remark,

"'Special treatment'?"

Ralof sobered once he realised what he had said,

"No, well you see, I didn't mean it like that, Fehn…"

He was cut off by her as she punched him again, this time much harder in the same place.

"Hey, watch it!"

Fehn glared at him,

"Believe me; I have never known special treatment in my life! The only special treatment I ever got was from General Tullius when he condemned me to die a noble's death up in this frozen dump as opposed to being strangled like a witch back home! So don't get on your high horse, Nord!"

There was a bitter silence between them. Clamping a hand over her mouth, Fehn's eyes were like orbs as she backed away and muttered,

"I-I didn't mean that."

Moving in closer, Ralof's face was a picture of anger. So unlike his face usually,

"'Nord'? Oh…I see, so you are just like the rest of them – those Imperials. And here I thought you and I were friends. Guess not, Imperial."

Fehn watched sadly as he stalked past her and drank deeply from a bottle of mead before giving the bottle to Kiriigan for a drink. Galmar – who had watched the interplay – said huskily,

"Alright, alright, let's drop this tenseness t' one another – at least save it for when you get back to Windhelm…If you get back to Windhelm. Now, since the Wonder Blades are having a spat, Kiriigan, Ralof, you take the beast from the sides and I and the Unblooded with give it a volley from the front. Imperial, that means you attack with the bow, while I swoop in and do the real damage. Just be sure to cover us in case any more bone-walkers decide to show."

Fehn frowned and her eyes were downcast,

"You…you're taking me out of the firing line? You're making me sentinel?"

Galmar turned to her unblinking,

"Yes, is there a problem?"

Even in their enmity, catching Ralof's eye, the Nord man closed his eyes and shook his head to prompt her to simply go along with what the general had ordered. Taking Ralof's silent advice, Fehn nodded and accepted her duty. With a brisk nod, Galmar brandished his axe and prowled up the rest of the marble steps and up towards the chambers main plateau. The one which harboured the Jagged Crown.

The chamber was silent as they kept to the shadows and silently stalked the seemingly sleeping figure who sat atop the stone throne. His bony skull was lolled over to the side and on his skinless fingers hung a few dozen rings. Fehn kept her arrow locked on the figure. She didn't like the simplicity of it all and felt a deep sense of dread every time she looked at the thing on the throne. On his head was the crown. Squinting at the unremarkable piece of decoration, Fehn felt a little put out by the sheer commonplace crown which sat pertly atop the Draugre king's head.

Standing behind Galmar, Fehn could feel her back seizing up on her as she held the string back. Suddenly a though struck her, lowering her bow, she placed a hand on Galmar's shoulder and whispered frantically,

"Quick! Get away from the walls!"

Galmar shot her a piercing look, but Fehn was serious. In one fluid movement, she tackled the general out of the shadows and into the bright light which illuminated the plateau. The general landed ungracefully in the middle of the large oval podium and turned a feral eye on Fehn,

"What in Oblivion d'you think you're doing?"

Fehn ignored him and instead signalled for Ralof and Kiriigan,

"Get away from the walls!"

Ralof frowned at her. Suddenly Kiriigan let out a scream as she was dragged back by the unseen Draugre prompting Ralof to delve deeper into the shadows to try and save her. Fehn's heart pounded as she heard the woman being pulled through the darkness and Ralof's pounding footsteps as he gave chase. Darting over the general, Fehn loped into the bright light and tried to remember the incantation for mage light. Precious moments were lost as she racked her brains trying to remember. Finally with a smile, Fehn managed to summon the orb of light and cast it into the shadows; bringing light to the Draugre who surrounded them. It also illuminated Kiriigan's mutilated corpse which was promptly being chewed on by a great hulking Draugre.

Ralof started as his eyes fell on Kiriigan – or what was left of her. Her head had been fully decapitated and was rolling around the stone floor; a wash of crimson matted her silvery hair. The Draugre that had killed her was dragging her headless body around the previously darkened chamber like a rag doll. Fehn made a face and nocked an arrow. Letting loose the projectile, she watched as it whizzed by Ralof and embedded itself into the murderous Draugre. With a howl the creature dropped Kiriigan's body and fell to the floor next to her dead. In the time it had taken Fehn to fell the Draugre, Galmar had made a swift recovery. Standing beside the Imperial, he caught her eye,

"Cover Ralof and me, I'll call if I need your sword arm."

Fehn fell back without argument and nocked another arrow and took aim. Taking care not to hit Galmar or Ralof, Fehn proceeded to kill at least about ten Draugre with her arrows alone while the men must have killed at least a score between them. Not once was Fehn's sword arm called upon. However at the end of the fight she was exhausted, sweat was pouring from her arms and head. She was just happy however that no more of them had been killed. Dropping her bow, Fehn fell to her knees and gasped for breath while Ralof and Galmar did the same. Fehn's eyes roamed the chamber, the floor was so filled with bones that she could not see the marble underneath. Getting to her feet she silently scoped around. Galmar came up beside her and scanned the room,

"The crown, where is the crown?"

Fehn felt her heart flutter. She had totally forgotten about the crown during the fight. Turning to the general, she simply shrugged and shook her head apologetically. Galmar only frowned deeper and began to turn over the bones in an attempt to find his master's crown. Suddenly Fehn felt a strange twitch and shook her head. Turning her head, she gazed at the empty throne where the Draugre with the Jagged Crown had been sitting. Moving towards the throne, Fehn poked her head behind the tall back of the throne and her eyes fell on a wall. It was covered in the same strange carvings that had been carved all over the last one in Bleak Falls Barrow. Stepping closer, she felt Ralof coming up alongside her and staring at the wall just as curiously as she was.

"What is that…that writing there?"

He asked her absently. Shaking her head, Fehn shrugged and said contemplatively,

"I can't read it, but I can understand it."

Pointing a finger out to one of the strange marks, she said to him,

"Like this one here, it means "slow time" or "the slowing of time" I can't explain it, but I can understand it even though I've never learned this language before."

Ralof cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Did you hurt your head?"

Fehn ignored him and leaned closer to the wall.

"Slow time? That'd come in handy wouldn't it? Ralof?"

Turning to the Nord, Fehn gasped. He was standing perfectly still, but she wasn't gasping at him, she was gasping at the huge Draugre with the Jagged Crown on his head that was poised behind him with a mace and ready to strike. The only odd thing was that the monster was moving at an unbelievably slow pace. Fehn's chest tightened as she realised that's he could still move. Drawing her sword, she moved Ralof and slipped her sword between the Draugre's protruding ribs. All of a sudden the slowness just stopped and Ralof jumped away from Fehn when he heard the crunch of the Draugre's bones and the loud crash it made as its hard body hit the floor.

Panting for breath, Fehn turned to Ralof,

"You're welcome."

Ralof's eyes were gaping. Gripping his hair, he shook his head and demanded,

"Did you just save me? H-how did you do that?"

Shaking her head, Fehn sighed and whispered,

"I don't know…I really don't know. I thought I was just speaking normally and then…everything just slowed down."

Fehn was relieved when Ralof smiled and placed his hands on his hips. Allowing his head to fall back, he breathed a sigh and turned to Galmar as the general appeared rubbing his head,

"Damn Draugre snuck up on me. Filthy bone-walkers, did either of you two get the crown?"

Fehn threw a quick glance at Ralof and widened her eyes in a plea for him not to mention the whole time bending incident to Galmar. The Nord took the hint and nodded to Galmar,

"Yes we did, this uh…this thing tried to creep up on us as well, but we dealt with it."

The general cocked an eyebrow at him and nodded suspiciously,

"Alright then. Unblooded, retrieve that crown and we'll take it back to Ulfric. I wouldn't be surprised if there's a feast with our names on it when we get back."