Chapter 17:
Frost and Deception
They left High Hrothgar at nightfall and began the trip back down the mountain. It took them two nights and where they could they sought the same shelter they had sought on the way up. They passed the troll where it lay dead in the snow and by the grave of the murdered pilgrim. At last they reached the twinkling lights of Ivarstead. The night was still young and so they continued onward.
The journey to Snow Veil Sanctum took them just under two weeks, the greater part of which saw them slogging through the deep snows that buried even Winterhold's most well-travelled roads. The land was desolate, roamed only by wolves and other predatory creatures. Lydia was, as Serana correctly surmised, perfectly capable of coping with the bitter cold. She shivered little and only wrapped her furs tighter about her when the winds got up and whistled in their ears.
It was late on the twelfth night that they spotted the dark stone dome protruding from the cold white ground. At the top it was open to the elements and a spiral set of stone stairs led down to a lower level. Barring their way was a door. Unlike any ancient doors she'd seen in other ruins, this one had iron bars extending from the central lock to the sides. Emily pushed at the door but it would not budge. First Serana and then Lydia joined her but still it would not open.
"It's no good," said Emily, stepping back.
"There has to be a back entrance around here somewhere," said Lydia, looking around. Then she caught sight of several stone arches of Nordic make dotting the snowbound landscape and a barely discernible path that ran between them. She pointed this out to them and they followed it down over the drifts. It took them to a similar formation buried in the side of the glacial cliff itself. This door, mercifully, lay unlocked and Emily pushed it open, peering cautiously inside. But all within lay still. The tunnel the door opened onto gave out into a large chamber. Pale moonlight drifted down through a craggy hole in the ceiling. There was a large pile of rubble beneath the hole and in the midst of it lay the forlorn bleached bones of one less fortunate than they. Emily made a thorough search of the room and on finding no word wall they continued onward. They passed down through a tunnel once blocked by a claw locked iron door but this had been disarmed long ago and the door had long since sunk into its deep groove in the floor.
At the far end the tunnel opened out into a burial chamber. Emily heard the chanting in her head long before she laid eyes upon the wall. She looked around cautiously in case the wall should be guarded. But it was not and Serana pointed out the draugr that lay stretched out before the sarcophagi.
Emily strode up to the word wall, trying to give the semblance of boldness and courage but these walls and their trance-like chanting always filled her with a measure of uncertainty. Before her the word glowed. As it brightened the world around her dimmed and the chanting filled her ears. Then the word, 'Zun,' was emblazoned upon her mind and the light in the claw-like gouges faded and dimmed. The word was learnt and they soon departed, glad in their ease of obtaining the word.
Their second target was to prove more hard won. Silverdrift Lair was a large Nordic ruin close to the small town of Heljarchen. It was in Heljarchen that they had their first encounter with the robed figures in masks.
The journey to Heljarchen took them another two weeks for progress through the snow was slow. The Inn, the Nightgate, lay upon a shallow mound of earth and rocks close to the road. The three adventurers climbed the steps made from slats of wood wedged deep into the ground so only one edge of it poked out. Emily pushed open the door and they stepped inside. The fire pit crackled invitingly and they each took a seat around it. Serana ordered a bottle of Surilie Brothers for them to share and they each drank deeply of it though only the Nordic housecarl felt the full benefit which showed in the colour that crept into her cheeks. She fetched herself a bowl of venison stew and tucked into it heartily while Emily booked two rooms for the day. She and Serana took the first and retired to it as the sun began to rise outside. They did not stay awake long and soon fell into a doze, Emily's hand still resting on the cover of a book she'd fetched from the shelf over by the door.
They were awoken around mid-afternoon to the sounds of raised voices coming from the Inn's main room. They recognised one as the voice of the old Innkeeper. The other two were harshly accented and stirred an old memory in Emily. These two sounded British, Cockney to be exact. But this was impossible and Emily knew it.
"You have no right coming in here and harassing my customers," the old Innkeeper was saying, his tone sharp.
"We follow the orders of our Lord and we will leave your establishment only when we have concluded our search for the False Dragonborn."
These words shot a surge of cold fear through Emily and her eyes darted nervously about the room as her whole frame shook. Presently her eyes came to rest on a wooden wardrobe. It looked as though it should house two comfortably and then some. She seized Serana's hand and dragged her from the bed and into the wardrobe. Here they pushed in amongst the cloaks and coats, jerkins and doublets. Emily heard the door to one of the rooms being roughly pushed open. Then there was a space of silence before another door was pushed open. Quietly, gingerly, Emily moved in front of Serana and put her eye up to the keyhole. Through it she could see the room: the bed with the bedclothes half-strewn across the floor and her armour stacked up in the corner. She swore an oath under her breath, having wished she'd elected to keep it on. She was painfully aware of how little protection her old faded and frayed hoodie and jeans afforded her. Then her eyes snapped to the door as it opened. Two strangers came into the room, looking around at their surroundings. At least, that was what they appeared to be doing. It was hard to tell as their faces were obscured by horned bone masks. They wore flowing brown robes and their gloves were fashioned to look like they were made of large overlapping scales. Emily saw the blades belted at their hips and gulped. One of them made for the door which led to the small bathing chamber while the other cast his eye over the discarded armour. Then his gaze fell upon the wardrobe and Emily flinched back as she saw him start to move toward it. She felt Serana's hands on her shoulders and they both froze.
Then another sound met their ears. It was the sound of the door opening.
"Can I help you?" came a familiar voice. The footsteps halted halfway to the wardrobe.
"Are you the occupant of this room?" asked the robed stranger.
"No, the room belongs to my Lord," Lydia replied coolly, "And I don't think he'd be very happy with you rummaging through his personal effects." She cut an imposing figure, made all the more striking by the dents and scratches on her armour.
"And who is your Lord?" asked the robed stranger slyly.
"Lord Oghvar of House Stormwolf," Lydia answered.
"And what business do you have in such a backwater village as this," the other cultist, a woman, asked, "Hardly the place for a wealthy lord."
"You ask a lot of questions," Lydia said calmly, folding her arms, "We had business in Windhelm, securing a trade of silver with a jeweller in from Evermor. We are now returning to Markarth. Now, if that answers all your questions…" She stood then, eyeing the cultists sternly. Emily watched the cultists' reactions carefully.
"Who knew she could lie so cunningly?" Serana whispered beside her. The cultists stood a moment longer and then left the room, throwing backwards glances at the housecarl.
Lydia waited for a moment longer until she heard the Inn's front door open and close. Then she crossed over to the wardrobe.
"They're gone," she said. The door opened and the two vampires stepped out from among the clothes.
"Phew," said Emily, glancing over at the door, "Thanks, Lydia. That was a close one."
"I think it's safe to say we know who killed the pilgrim," Lydia replied. Emily nodded.
"We should leave the moment the sun sets," said Serana, "If we must ever fight them then let it be on the road." Lydia made to leave the room but Serana stopped her a moment.
"Thank you, Lydia," she said, "That was definitely a fight best avoided."
"You're welcome, my Thane," Lydia replied but without the usual stiffness she had in her voice when addressing the vampire.
After she left Emily set to changing back into her armour.
"I feel like we just dodged the hangman's noose back there," she said, subconsciously rubbing at her neck. She was now glad they had elected to leave Finn back at the cottage as she couldn't imagine how they would have stopped him from squeaking and giving away their location. They'd left him in the cottage but with access to the outside through what Emily had dubbed, 'The Otter Flap,' on the back door.
At sundown they left the Inn and made the comparatively short journey to Silverdrift Lair. They knew something was amiss as they strode up to the arched front section of the structure. Two bandits lay dead, blood swathing the ground and spattering the walls around them.
"Do you think it was them?" Emily asked. They knew who Emily meant by 'them' but Lydia shook her head.
"No, a draugr did this," she pointed to the ancient Nordic axe protruding from the back of one of the bandits.
Stepping over the prone forms they headed cautiously inside. The first room they came to looked to have been turned into a camp of sorts for the would-be tomb raiders. Here more bodies were stretched out, some still arched in the convulsions of agony that took them at the time of death. Pots and pans lay scattered about along with torn and bloody bedrolls. A campfire lay with half the embers scattered across the stone floor and a bloody haunch of beef still lay on an altar which had apparently been re-appropriated to serve as a butcher's slab.
None of them cared to hang around any longer so they pressed on.
They followed a stone passageway which brought them past another dead bandit to a wooden door. Emily pushed at it but found it would not budge so she began to look around. Serana noticed another passage which seemed to lead further in and beckoned to them before heading down it. This passage brought them to a double iron door. Mercifully this one opened out onto a large chamber comprising of an upper level hewn from stone and a lower level which could be reached by sets of wooden spiral stairs. They elected to stick to the upper level and made their way across the stone interconnecting paths to the far side. Here Emily paused, looking ahead and then down at the ground. She put out a hand to stop her two companions and pointed wordlessly at the pressure plate set into the ground. Then a terrible growl met her ears. Shambling towards them, its desiccated face a rictus, was a draugr. It wielded a war axe which it was waving threateningly above its head. As it drew nearer and idea struck Emily and she brought her foot down heavily on the pressure plate. The effect was immediate. A spiked iron gate swung around with such speed and force that when it struck the draugr the cruel spikes sunk deep into undead flesh and clung on as it whiplashed back to its original position, dragging the now lifeless draugr back with it.
Taking care to avoid further pressure plates they moved on past the gruesome display until they came to a section where their way was blocked by iron rods. Lydia soon found the pull bar set into the side of one of the stone posts and pulled it, opening the way from them. Beyond there was an iron door and this opened onto a small chamber where a dead Orc lay in one corner. But it seemed his death was not in vain for next to him lay the body of a draugr, knotted flesh pulled taut in a much delayed rigor mortis. Emily found a pull chain which raised the iron portcullis, allowing them onward.
The next room they came to looked to have once been a small dining hall or conference room judging by the long stone table that ran the length of it. Pacing it were two draugr clad in rotting leathers. One carried a battleaxe while the other carried a sword. They did not seem to have spotted them and so Emily drew her bow from off her back and nocked an arrow. The battleaxe wielder fell to her strike and the sword wielder turned on them. Blue energies ripped from his maw, throwing Emily back against the wall. Stars popped before her eyes as she struggled to her feet. A blue spectral wolf controlled by her companion leapt before her, fur bristling as it stared down the draugr, teeth bared. She saw Lydia close with it, her greatsword brandished before her. Again and again they clashed, sparks erupting with each blow of steel on aged iron. Then the draugr's blade was sent skittering into the dark and Lydia saw her chance, plunging her greatsword into its chest.
"Are you alright?" Serana asked Emily as she rubbed at her head.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, "Just a little bruised." She rested a hand on Serana's arm. "Come on, let's go, sooner we find that word wall, sooner we can get out."
They wandered through chambers and passages, peering into each cautiously unless any undead denizens should be stirring. Once in a while they came upon the marks left by the bandit raiders, a blood stain here, a discarded iron weapon there.
"Why would they come here?" Emily asked Serana.
"The promise of treasure I expect," Serana replied, "Besides, you could ask the same of us."
"True," Emily conceded.
The next point of interest they came to was a long stone bridge that stretched across the top of the large chamber they had passed through earlier. On either side and overhead stretched iron bars designed to keep those traversing the upper levels from falling. At the far end stood a draugr, regarding them with ice blue eyes. It stared for a moment before turning and shambling back the way it had come.
They gave chase, hurrying down the passage after it. They heard guttural shouts up ahead and when they burst into the large chamber the draugr had disappeared into they found themselves staring down four draugr. Evidently the one they had encountered in the passage had gone to warn its brethren in the main chamber. Emily could see the goal of their endeavours lying just beyond. But her gaze was brought sharply back to the draugr as it drew back, bracing itself against the ground.
"Take cover," she yelled as decayed lips parted. She dove for a large chunk of fallen stone, dragging Serana along with her. The shockwaves rippled over the rubble seconds later, sending up sprays of grit that stung their eyes. She nocked an arrow, leaning out from behind the rock to fire. One of the draugr doubled up in pain as the arrow struck. Serana leapt out from behind the rock, an icy spike floating above her palm which she sent in pursuit of Emily's arrow. It struck true and Lydia took the opportunity to converge on the draugr. Emily dodged out from behind the rock as another of the draugr reached her hiding place. She drew herself up and shouted, remembering the words the Greybeards had taught her. The draugr was pushed back across the ground, head bowed under the sudden wind that had sprung up in the wake of her voice. But it soon recovered and came shambling towards her. Emily sidestepped as it swung its blade at her and countered with her ebony dagger. It scored a gash in the draugr's desiccated flesh but she was forced to leap back again as it sent a recoiling attack her way.
A bolt of lightning struck it in the side of the head and it crumpled. Meanwhile Lydia had taken down the first and now turned on the third, the one that had raised the alarm in the first place. She set her teeth as she charged at it. It raised its axe and she broke through its defense with a devastating blow from her greatsword, cleaving its head asunder. It too crumpled and now only one remained that the three adventurers converged on.
Its shout sent Serana crashing back against a pillar and Emily lunged at it but again and again she was forced to leap back to avoid the great sweeping blows it made with its battlaxe. Lydia succeeded in getting past its defences long enough to land a blow in its side but most of the damage was absorbed by the ancient metal armour it wore. It recoiled momentarily and then with a savage cry it raised its battleaxe up over its head. Lydia readied her defense, waiting for the axe to come down, bracing the muscles in her arms into bands of steel. But the battleaxe instead fell from its limp fingers and clattered to the ground. A shard of ice lay buried in one eye socket. It seemed to waver before them for a moment and then it fell, the light in its eyes dying out. Serana joined them by the body of the draugr general. She was bleeding from a cut on her forehead but otherwise seemed unharmed.
"Alright, let's go and get that word," she said, "After all we went through," here she gestured to the draugr whose bodies lay in amongst the rubble, "I'm hoping it was worth it."
"I hope so too," Emily replied, "I suppose we'll only really find out once we find a dragon." She turned to look at the word wall which lay on the far side of the room. Already she heard the familiar chanting and she strode over to it. And then, before the dust of battle had settled on the bones of the fallen, the second word had been learnt and the three adventurers departed from the dungeon.
The climb to Eldersblood Peak proved to be an arduous one. They travelled from Silverdrift Lair to the city of Morthal. Little had changed since their last visit. The same bleak air hung over the place like a miasma, accompanied by the same fetid smell of the marshes.
They made a beeline for the Inn which was just as deserted as when they'd last visited. But then, she realised, it was even more so than when last they'd set foot inside. The air inside was quieter too than she remembered. Then it hit her. The last time they'd stayed at the Inn there was an Orsimer bard, a jolly enough pleasant sort but an awful singer. She crossed over to the bar and paid the Innkeeper a day's rent and she gladly took the money.
"There's something familiar about you and your companion," she said as she pulled a tankard out from behind the bar, "Though I don't recognise the third member of your party. I've seen precious little business so I can recognise most who pass through. You've been here before, haven't you?"
"Yes, but it was some time ago," she replied, "There was a bard here when we were here last. An Orsimer. What became of him?" The Innkeeper frowned and shook her head.
"He disappeared just three weeks after you left," said the Innkeeper, "There have been whispers about the Dark Brotherhood and Benor swore he saw a shadowy figure leaving old Ogvel's house out in the marshes."
"Who's Ogvel?" Emily asked, "And who are the Dark Brotherhood?" The Innkeeper looked visibly shocked.
"I'm not surprised you, being an outsider, not knowing Ogvel," she said, "He lived in the marshes for years. A harmless old hermit who never bothered anyone. But someone murdered him just the same. It was the Dark Brotherhood. But where were you raised not to have heard of them?"
"I was raised on an island," she answered and this was true enough.
"They're a group of cutthroat killers, assassins," said the Innkeeper in a low voice, "They seemed to have been gone for so long we were all feeling hopeful. Now with their return and dragons things are worse than ever."
"We'll be sure to stay out of their way then," said Emily, cradling the tankard of mead in her hands.
"What business brings you to Morthal anyway?" asked the Innkeeper at last.
"We're looking for a place known as Eldersblood Peak," Emily replied, "Would you happen to know the way? All we know is that it's somewhere in the mountains near here."
The Innkeeper frowned and shook her head but an old adventurer in dented armour who sat close by pricked up his ears.
"Did I hear you say Eldersblood Peak?" he asked. His voice was old and cracked.
"That's right," Emily replied. The Innkeeper resumed cleaning tankards, a thankless task for they were all pristine, having been cleaned time and again for want of something to do. Emily sat down by the adventurer.
"To get to Eldersblood you have to go out to the road and head west," he said, "Keep going until you see a cairn with a red rag lodged between the rocks. Then turn and follow the dirt path next to it. Follow it all the way up and you'll reach Eldersblood Peak."
"Thank you," Emily replied and she made to get up but the man took a hold of her wrist.
"But you best be careful up there," he said, "It's no place for flippancy and complacency, especially with the dragons having returned. Eldersblood was once a site of dragon worship and I wouldn't be surprised if it is again. If not, then there's trolls."
"We'll be careful," Emily replied, "The two travelling with me are both capable fighters and I can handle myself in a fight. But we'll be wary, you can be sure of that. We've fought trolls before and one of us has felt their wrath before."
"Well said," the old adventurer nodded, "I wish you luck then." Emily thanked him and went to sit with her companions. She filled them in on all the old adventurer had said. Lydia winced noticeably at the mention of trolls but nodded just the same.
They passed much of the day in their rooms and when night fell they set out, following the old man's directions. They headed west along the road and walked for well over half an hour. Emily had begun to think they had missed the cairn in all the snow when Serana pointed it out to her up ahead, the red rag flapping in the wind. They followed the dirt track alongside it up into the mountains. The track wound this way and that as it climbed the side of the mountain, looking out on breath-taking views. Here and there it was difficult to follow, being little more than a smoother bit of terrain in among the craggy rocks and the way it hairpinned back and forth did not make the task any easier and made the climb feel much longer than it was.
"Will we get there and back before sun up?" Emily asked Serana.
"Unless we run into any trouble we should," Serana replied.
About halfway up they came upon an abandoned campsite. The campfire was long since cold and the bedrolls were covered in a fine layer of snow. It seemed no on had been there for some time. They moved swiftly on, not wishing to meet the same fate as the unknown camper. It was gone midnight when they spotted the stone archways, the first sign that they were nearing the peak. The ground under their feet became rockier and the ravine at their side ever steeper. The second sign that they were nearing the top came in the form of stone steps wedged into the frosty soil of the mountainside, much in the same manner as those leading up to High Hrothgar.
At last they came to a set of steep stone stairs. They were cracked in places and so they had to watch their footing as they scaled them. At the top of the first flight was a stone altar, the like of which they had often seen in Nordic ruins. Lying on the cold surface was a large thin necked bottle. Emily identified it as a healing potion and a strong one at that and so she handed it to Lydia as Serana had long ago explained that potions were useless to vampires.
The next set of stone steps brought them to a truly awe-inspiring sight. At the far end of the frigid plateau they found themselves on was a stone wall that partially encircled the peak. It was decorated with the traditional draconic heads typical of ancient Nordic architecture. The wind blew sharp and cold at these heights and when they saw the word wall which made up the centrepiece they hurried over to it and Emily hearkened to the thronging chanting.
But as the word emblazoned itself upon her mind they heard a sky-shattering roar. They hurried back from the wall and looked skyward. Soaring down from the heavens thick with clouds was a great blue dragon. It landed heavily on the top of the word wall where it regarded them steadily from his lofty perch. It had scales the colour of packed ice and row upon row of lethal spikes resembling icicles ran down its back to its scythe-like tail. Its head was similarly spiky with a mane of white closely resembling shavings of ice.
"Dovahkiin, Zu'u loost bahlok dreh grah naal gein hin fron," he thundered. Emily saw him rearing back and knew at any moment fire or frost would smite them. She hurriedly conjured a ward and out of the corner of her eye she saw Serana do the same, tugging Lydia behind the rapidly forming wall of magicka. Then all she saw was blinding white. She felt the air around her drop in temperature, a feat seemingly impossible before, and small shards of ice and snow pelted the barrier. Freezing clouds engulfed them on all sides and when they emerged out of the dragon's frigid breath, despite the ward's protection from the brunt of the thu'um, their hair, skin and armour were covered in a fine layer of frost and glittering crystals. And in the midst of this the dragon rose slowly up into the sky with great heavy wingbeats.
They scattered, each finding cover behind one of the great many rocks scattered about the peak. Each carried bows and each tried desperately to line up their shot as the dragon wheeled overhead. It swooped down then, loosing its wintry breath on Emily's chosen hiding place and as it did so Serana and Lydia stepped from behind cover, loosing their arrows. One tore a hole in the dragon's wing while the other bounced harmlessly off the scaly hide. The dragon hardly altered its flight path and flew back up. Then, after wheeling around, it came straight back down, landing next to Serana's vantage point, the jarring landing causing her to stagger against the rock.
Emily broke from her hiding place, armed with her dagger. Serana had conjured a ward in readiness as the dragon drew breath. She jabbed at its tail and hind legs but the dragon took no more heed of her than of a flea and loosed his breath upon the vampiress who braced herself against the winter storm, ward raised. The tail swung around and Emily leapt over it. Lydia loosed another arrow from her vantage point which managed to embed itself between two scales. The dragon reared back with a roar, lashing its tail and forcing Emily to make another desperate leap. This time she landed astride the scaly tail, thankfully close to the spaded end where there were no spikes. She wasted no time in scrambling up the tail. If the dragon felt her he gave no indication, concentrating his fury on the housecarl who had dove back behind her rock.
Emily reached the beast's shoulders, dagger clamped firmly in her teeth, gripping the spines for support in this draconic rodeo. Then she flung herself at the scaly neck. At this the dragon took notice and gave a roar that almost deafened her before flapping its scaly wings. Emily almost let out a yell as the ground dropped sharply away and it was well she stopped herself for she would have dropped her blade into the white, swirling nothingness that engulfed the peak. Instead she clung desperately to the beast's neck as they rose higher and higher. The dizzying height made her stomach lurch and when the beast swooped down her heart leapt up between her teeth, a still lump but one still fully capable of conveying her terror. Still gripping tightly, she squeezed her eyes open. She was seated just behind the dragon's head and she could see where the scales of the head met those of the neck. She observed that they moved independently from one another and there was a sizeable gap between them. An idea took form and as the dragon swooped down again she put it into action.
She pried her dagger from between her jaws and grasped it tightly in one hand, gripping the neck with all available remaining limbs. Then as the dragon hovered before Serana, wings inscribing great sweeping motions in the stormy skies, Emily plunged the dagger in betwixt the two scales. The effect was immediate, the dragon rearing back with a frost-filled roar where it lashed its neck from side to side. It was all Emily could do to hold on. Then it was off, flapping up into the sky. Emily took the dagger and stabbed again at the gap, blood spilling out over her fingers. It made the dagger difficult to hold on to and she gritted her teeth as the blade slid in her fingers. She twisted it, wedging it in deeper. The dragon roared again but it lurched to one side, almost unseating her as the roar gurgled in its throat.
Serana and Lydia watched the ragged shape from the ground. It was listing to one side and each wingbeat seemed more of an effort than the last. Then abruptly the wings half-seized and it slowly dipped forwards.
Emily's heart was in her mouth once more as the ground rose up to meet her as quickly as it had dropped away before. The head met the ground first and the impact jarred Emily loose and she tumbled over and over in the snow, eventually coming to a halt.
"Emily!" Serana cried as she hurried over to her. She stopped short, however, when the dragon's body crackled and hissed before bursting into flames, melting away the spiky scales like the ice they so closely resembled. Then a bright pulsating light flowed from dragon to woman, melting the snow and ice beneath them both so a haze of steam hung over the battlefield. As the light faded Serana breathed a sigh of relief as the Earthling was now sitting up and looking at the skeletonized carcass of their foe. Lydia came to meet them.
"It's done then," she said, relief evident in her voice. Emily nodded before taking the hand offered to her and getting to her feet.
"You never cease to amaze me with your ability to find new ways of putting yourself in danger, Em," said Serana, her expression serious but Emily could just see a barely discernible twinkle in her eyes showing through. In reply she smiled and put an arm around the vampiress, burying her head in her shoulder. This earned her an affectionate embrace that made riding on the back of a dragon wholly worthwhile.
"How much time until sunrise?" Serana asked. Emily took a look at her watch and her expression grew troubled.
"Only another two and a half hours," she said. Serana frowned.
"Perhaps it's time we tried out that broom of yours again," she said, "Think you're up for it after your last flight?"
"I like the prospect of flying better than trying to find a cave up here," she replied.
"You fly with Lydia then," said Serana, "I'll follow along behind as a Vampire Lord." Emily nodded. Lydia took some coaxing to get astride the broom, being distrustful of magic like many Nords but Emily eventually convinced her and once Serana had taken her Vampire Lord form the three of them took to the skies.
Author Notes:
Translation:
Dovahkiin, Zu'u loost bahlok dreh grah naal gein hin fron! - Dragonborn, I have longed to battle with one of your kind!