ForeverFictional- Gildas will be popping up every once in a while as the story goes on. The Civil War still is going on after all.

Irileth

The Dunmer rubbed her temples as the doors to Dragonsreach closed. They had been this close to ending the whole damned Civil War, this close! And what had prevented that? A dragon, of all things! Where in Oblivion had a dragon come from?

The Jarl had been holding audiences all morning. Everyone from panicked citizens to Legion soldiers had come through that door hoping to find some safety, or offering safety. There had been lots of yelling. Jarl Balgruuf was slumped on his throne, head in his hands. Irileth couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him so exhausted. Not that she could blame him.

The door to Dragonsreach creaked open. Irileth looked up to see a group in mage's robes come through. Not again.

Irileth immediately moved to intercept the group. The Dunmer glared at the group, her sword drawn. "What is the meaning of this? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors." They were a pretty diverse group, looking closer. A Khajit, a Dunmer, a Nord, and a Breton. The Khajit stepped forward, giving a respectful bow. "Our apologies for the intrusion. We have been sent by Alvor the smith and his family, from Riverwood."

The Dunmer raised an eyebrow and lowered her sword a bit. "Riverwood? Explain."

The Khajit nodded. "We were at Helgen when the dragon attacked, but managed to escape and went to Riverwood. Alvor the Smith and his family gave us shelter in return for speaking to the Jarl."

Well, that certainly was different. From what everyone else had said, almost no one had escaped Helgen during the attack. Irileth eyed the Khajiit up and down. He didn't seem to be lying. The rest of his companions looked worried, but that could easily be chalked up to having a brush with death.

Sp the Dunmer sheathed her sword. "So you know about Helgen? The Jarl will want to speak to you personally then." She turned around and gestured for them to follow.

Jarl Balgruuf had sat up in his seat as soon as the mages had come in, trying to look casual but regal. Irileth tried to look as apologetic as possible as she walked up to him. "My lord, these mages say they came from Helgen by way of Riverwood."

The Jarl nodded. "Thank you Irileth." Irileth walked to stand by the Jarl's side as the mages approached. "So," Jarl Balgruuf continued, "you were all at Helgen? You saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

The Khajit nodded. "The Imperial army was going to execute Ulfric Stormcloak and his followers, but they were interrupted by the dragon attacking."

Irileth saw the Nord mage shudder. "He's right. The dragon was huge, big as the keep at least. All the soldiers there couldn't even scratch it!"

Balgruuf shook his head and sighed. "Of course Ulfric is mixed up in this."

"We eventually sought shelter with Alvor the Smith, in Riverwood. In return, he asked we come to you. He's worried Riverwood might be next since it is so close to Helgen."

Irileth gulped. Alvor had a serious point. There was so much confusion in Helgen that no one had bothered to track where the dragon could be going. She stepped forward. "My lord, we should send troops to Riverwood at once! If that dragon is still lurking in the mountains, then it's in the most immediate danger."

"We can't!" yelped the Jarl's steward, who was standing on his other side. "The Jarl of Falkreath will assume we've gone to Ulfric's side if we start massing troops! We-"

"Enough, Proventus!" snapped the Jarl. "I will not sit idly by while a dragon slaughters my people! Irileth, send a detachment at once."

Irileth nodded. "Yes, my Jarl." Though she couldn't help but wonder if it would even make a difference.

J'zargo

After the Dunmer went to get some soldiers, the Jarl turned back to the group. "Thank you for seeking me out. I won't forget it." He thought for a bit. "Actually, perhaps you could help with..." He stood up. "Come, let us go speak with my court mage. There's something you might be able to help with."

The group followed him off to a side room. It sure did look like a mage's room, with a desk, an enchanting table, an alchemy lab, and several soul gems. J'zargo pocketed a few as the Jarl walked over to a hooded figure standing at the desk. "Farengar, I think I found some people who can help you with your dragon project." He gestured to the group.

J'zargo blinked and looked at the others. "Dragon project?" asked Onmund.

Farengar looked up. "Ah yes. You mean my research into the dragons." He looked the group over. "Well, how do you feel about ruin exploration?"

"How do I get myself into these things?" groaned Onmund as the group hiked up the mountain. The ruin that Farengar had referred to was Bleak Falls Barrow, the structure they had passed on the way to Riverwood. The one that Hadvar confirmed had draugr in it.

J'zargo couldn't see why Onmund was worried. "After all, we have already fought these things, yes? This is not anything new."

"You say that like we're experts. Fighting once isn't enough to count for that!"

Minerva patted Onmund on the shoulder. "Relax, we'll be fine! J'zargo has a point. We got through one tomb, we can get through another."

Onmund sighed. "Okay, okay. But no looting!" He stared at J'zargo as he said this.

J'zargo sighed. It was a waste to have those objects sitting with those who could no longer use them. But there was no need to cause tension in the group. Unless there was something really valuable.

J'zargo was snapped out of his thoughts by an arrow whizzing past his head. "What the-" He looked up and saw that they had reached the steps leading up to the tomb. A group of bandits were standing at the top of the stairs. They didn't look happy to be disturbed.

"You'll make a fine rug, cat!" the archer yelled as she nocked another arrow.

J'zargo's fur bristled. "J'zargo is a Khajit! This one will thank you to remember that!" He threw a Firebolt at the archer's face to emphasize his point. He missed her face, but hit the quiver on her back, which went up in flames. The archer screamed and ran around in circles, eventually disappearing over the crest of the hill.

Meanwhile, two other bandits were attacking the others with a sword and warhammer. They went down easily to Brelyna's familiar and firebolts. Minerva smacked one in the head with her axe for good measure.

"Why are there bandits up here?" questioned Brelyna after the last of the bandits fell.

Onmund shook his head. "They were probably setting up base inside the tomb. There might be more inside. We should be careful."

They walked up the rest of the stairs, careful not to slip on the snow and ice. They pushed open the heavy metal door and walked inside.

Minerva

Sure enough, it was just as Onmund had said. There were tents, a campfire, and two bandits set up in the front room. They seemed to be arguing. "What if Arvel doesn't come back? I want my share!" one snapped.

"Calm down! If the dark elf wants to go and get himself killed, that's his business!"

"It's my business because he has the claw you idiot!"

"What claw?" asked Brelyna.

"Whaddya mean 'what claw'? The one we stole from that stuck up idiot in Riverwood-wait," the bandit looked around. "Who said that?"

The bandit's answer came in the form of a spectral familiar chomping down on her leg. She cried out in pain as Minerva advanced on her with an axe. They both went down quickly under the mage's spells and weapons.

"What do you think that claw they were talking about was?" Brelyna questioned.

J'zargo leaned down and searched the bandits. "J'zargo found coin, but nothing like a claw. Did they not say that a dark elf had it?"

Brelyna furrowed her brows. "They said something about an...Arwen?"

Minerva nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right." Her stomach growled, and she rifled around in the bandits bags. Cheese, bread...nothing special but nothing bad. She grabbed the food. "Ready to head in?"

Brelyna nodded. "Might as well. Maybe we can catch up with the mer they mentioned."

It didn't take Minerva as long as they thought to find the Dunmer bandit. It only took a few rooms before they stumbled into a chamber that was absolutely covered in spiderwebs. Minerva saw J'zargo's ears flatten against his head. "Something wrong?"

J'zargo shook his head. "Nothing! Nothing is wrong! Just...we must be on the lookout, yes?"

Minerva smirked. "You're scared."

"J'zargo is no such thing!"

"Are too."

"Is not!"

"Are too!"

"Is-"

There was a rustling above them and J'zargo shrieked, leaping into Minerva's arms. Minerva grinned. "Are too." J'zargo huffed and climbed down. "Look, you can't fool me. It takes one to know one."

"Takes one what?" asked Onmund, who was busy cutting away the webs with a dagger.

"One prideful snot," laughed Minerva, sticking out her tongue.

"Hmph!" J'zargo crossed his arms. "J'zargo is not a 'snot'!"

"I notice you aren't arguing the prideful part, though."

Suddenly, a new voice called out from within the webs. "Is there someone there? Haknir? Bjorn? Get me down!"

Minerva drew her axe and J'zargo pulled out a scroll. "Who's there?" yelled Brelyna.

The group finally finished cutting through the webs and entered into a large area with webbed sacks hanging from the ceiling. One of the sacks was speaking to them. "Oh gods, here it comes! Kill it! Kill it!"

"Kill what?" asked Onmund, right before the giant spider landed on top of him.

J'zargo shrieked again and began lobbing bolts of fire. Brelyna and Minerva also kept their distance, attacking with fire and lightning. Onmund struggled underneath the spider, seemingly trying to wriggle his way out.

The spider spat a glob of poison at Minerva, hitting her right in the eyes. She screamed and rubbed her face furiously, trying to get the sting out. She heard the spider shriek once, twice, then fall silent. There was some tussling, then she felt a potion being forced into her hand. "Pour that in your eyes. It'll prevent any damage. At least permanent damage." It was Onmund's voice.

Minerva immediately followed his instructions, pouring the whole concoction over her face. The stinging faded almost immediately. Minerva blinked several times, and the worried figure of Onmund swam into view. "Are you okay? Looks like you got that right to the face."

Minerva stared at him for a bit, then laughed. "Am I okay? You're the one who got squashed by that thing!" She saw a large, still figure in the corner of the room. "I guess you guys killed it though."

Onmund chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, turns out that stabbing it in the underside was effective. Took me a bit to get my dagger out, though. For obvious reasons."

"Hey, would you lovebirds stop twittering and help me out?" yelled the bandit, still hanging there. Brelyna and J'zargo had been too busy looting the spider's corpse to help him.

Minerva glared up at where Arwen, or whatever his name was, was hanging, her face hot. "We're not lovebirds!" she snapped. She heard J'zargo snort behind her and wheeled on him. "What's so funny?"

Onmund walked over to cut the mer down. Minerva thought she saw a look of disappointment on his face, but he turned away too fast for her to see for sure.

"So, where is the claw?" asked J'zargo, hands on his hips as the bandit stood up.

The bandit looked at the group for a second, then laughed. "You idiots! I'm not sharing the treasure with anyone!" With that, he ran off into the next room.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" yelled Brelyna as the group ran after him.

They found the elf with a Dragur's axe in his skull before too long. After the group had disposed of the draugr, Brelyna looked at the bandit's body and sighed. "Can't see we didn't warn you."

J'zargo bent down and sifted through the bandit's belongings. "A-ha!" he finally said, standing up straight. In his hands was a golden ornament with three clawed fingers.

"Shiny," commented Minerva. "But why's it so important?"

J'zargo held up what looked like a journal. "Perhaps this will tell us." He flipped through the pages. "Ah, here!" He held the journal out so the others could see.

My fingers are trembling. The Golden Claw is finally in my hands, and with it, the power of the ancient Nordic heroes. That fool Lucan Valerius had no idea that his favorite store decoration was actually the key to Bleak Falls Barrow.

Now I just need to get to the Hall of Stories and unlock the door. The legend says there is a test that the Nords put in place to keep the unworthy away, but that "when you have the golden claw, the solution is in the palm of your hands."

J'zargo turned the claw over in his hands. "In the palm of your hands, hm? Perhaps this is a literal and metaphorical key."

That's when a guttural growl echoed from the halls behind them. "We'll figure that out later," Onmund decided, summoning some lightning. "We need to actually find the lock first. Without dying."

"You have got to be kidding me," snarked Minerva later as J'zargo inserted the claw into the holes in the wall and wiggled it a bit. "What kind of stupid test is that?"

Turns out the combination had been written on the palm of the claw. "Maybe it's like the puzzle back at Saarthal," mused Brelyna. "It's only to make sure something doesn't get out. Or that someone who can think is the one to open it."

"As opposed to, what, a zombie?" That's when Minerva remembered where they were. "Oh, wait. That actually makes sense."

The large door before them slid into the ground with a loud grinding noise. Behind it was a much less carved-out area, looking similar to a natural cave. Some bats even fluttered over the group's head as they walked. "Bats have to go outside to eat, right?" questioned Brelyna. "There must be an exit around here."

"We still haven't found the stone yet, though," groaned Minerva. "Where could it be?"

The group stopped short as they saw what was at the end of the chamber: a large raised dias. J'zargo nodded towards it. "That seems a likely place, yes?"

The group climbed the steps, careful not to slip on the slick stone. At the top of the dias was a coffin, two shelves of offerings, a chest, and... "Is that another Word Wall?" asked Minerva nervously.

Onmund gave her a confused look, but nodded. "Sure looks like it. Shor's bones, two Word Walls in a month. What are the odds?"

"What's a Word Wall?" asked Brelyna as J'zargo pulled at the coffin cover.

"They're carved walls left over from before the First Era. No one really knows what they're for..."

And it was happening again. One of the words on the wall began glowing. This time, Minerva could have sworn she heard a faint chanting. "Fus. Force."

Minerva jumped as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to see Brelyna and Onmund looking at her with concerned expressions. J'zargo was too busy struggling to get the coffin open, a strained look on his face. "Are you alright?" asked Brelyna. "We called you several times, but you didn't respond."

Minerva bit her lip. "Er...fine. I'm fine. Just examining the wall, that's all."

Brelyna gave her a deadpan look. "You're a horrible liar."

"Ah! J'zargo has found the way to open-" The coffin lid popped open, smacking J'zargo upside the head. As the Khajit stumbled back, a larger draugr rose out of the coffin. It didn't look as strong as Jyrik had been, but still stronger then the other draugr they had faced.

The draugr commander turned to face the group, then, strangely for an undead, took a deep breath. "FUS RO DAH!"

A wave of force exploded from the undead's mouth. Minerva, Brelyna, and Onmund were standing far from the edge and got pushed back into the wall. J'zargo, however, wasn't so lucky and skidded down the stairs. "J'zargo!" yelled Brelyna. "Are you okay?"

There was a grunt and then a pained "J'zargo may have broken his tail."

Minerva drew her axe. "Hey you! Skeever face!" The draugr turned to the group and growled, only to get two bolts of fire to the face. Minerva ran forward and chopped at its neck with her axe, shooting some lightning for good measure.

The undead inhaled again "FUS-". "Look out!" yelled Onmund, running after Minerva. Brelyna ran around and ducked behind the chest.

"RO DAH!" Another wave of force caught Onmund in the leg, and he went pinwheeling across the room.

"Onmund!" yelped Minerva. She glared at the undead. "You're going to pay for that!"

She sprinted towards the undead, which inhaled again...but then an ice spike slammed through its chest. Minerva looked to where it had come from, and saw J'zargo standing on the edge of the dias, rubbing his rear end. Minerva sighed and nodded. "Thanks."

She walked over to Onmund to check on him. Onmund groaned and sat up. "So that's the power of Shouts," he groaned. "I think my ankle's broken."

Minerva sighed and put her hands on Onmund's leg, summoning golden light to heal him. "Next time, listen to your own instructions. Dork." Onmund grinned sheepishly.

"Ah, it appears the undead was using the stone as a pillow," J'zargo commented from behind her.

Minerva turned around to see J'zargo pulling a rock as big as his head out of the coffin. Minerva pulled Onmund up and walked over so they could see. One side of the rock had been smoothed out, and carved into the side was what looked like some sort of map. "Is that Skyrim?" asked Brelyna, leaning over J'zargo's shoulder.

Onmund nodded. "Looks like it." He pointed to some markings. "Look. There's a bunch of 'X's all over the place."

J'zargo's ears perked up. "Perhaps they mark treasure? Ancient dragon hoards?"

"That sounds a bit too good to be true," laughed Brelyna.

"Even so..." murmured J'zargo. He set down the stone and rustled through his bag, pulling out paper and some charcoal.

"What are you doing?" asked Brelyna as J'zargo knelt on the floor. He put the piece of paper over the map and began rubbing with the charcoal.

Onumnd's eyes widened. "Oh...oh! I see!"

J'zargo grinned and held up the paper, which was an almost perfect black-and-white copy of the map. "There. Now we can take the stone to the mage while remembering these sites." J'zargo folded up the paper carefully and put it in his bag. "Who knows? Perhaps the court mage will be grateful for the help."

Next time: The group finally completes the quest that brought them south in the first place, and after that is more dragon stuff.