Chapter LVIII – Unforeseen Circumstances

After an eventful night, Bishop and Aeyrin got up only barely before noon.

They shuffled out of their room tiredly into the almost empty tavern. It seemed like nobody was around for lunch. Maybe they were all hungover.

Aeyrin found her lute propped up against the bar, luckily in a similar state in which she gave it away last night. The drunkards have been playing it rather ineptly long into the night, but the two of them couldn't care less about the annoying noises as long as their attentions were completely absorbed in each other.

Before they could move to one of the tables, however, the bartender, Erik's father, had interrupted them.

"Lass! A courier came for you in the morning. Got a letter here," he nodded his head at her and handed her a small envelope.

Aeyrin took it from the man eagerly, but her blood turned cold when she noticed the insignia at the corner of it. A very familiar head of a bear.

This was a Stormcloak missive. What in the Gods' names could any of them want from her?

She shared a concerned look with Bishop and they both quickly moved over to one of the tables. Bishop sat himself right next to her, as close as he could, in order to be able to read the contents of the letter alongside her without wasting any more time. They were both equally nervous at the implications.

With a heavy sigh, Aeyrin ripped the envelope open and looked over the letter.

.

By the order of the True High King of Skyrim Ulfric Stormcloak

Due to unforeseen circumstances, you are hereby required to travel to Windhelm at the earliest opportunity. The True High King has ordered a mandatory audience with you and it would be in your best interest to comply. Your sentence is not waived. Upon entering the city, you will be instantly escorted by the soldiers to the Palace of the Kings for your audience.

Sincerely,

Jorlief, Steward to the True High King Ulfric Stormcloak

.

Before she could even process the information, her eyes were drawn to a hastily scribbled note in a different handwriting that was at the bottom of the parchment.

.

I hope that you remember well that one word from me can turn the might of the rebellion against you within a second. I expect you to report here immediately if you value your life.

.

The contents of the scribbled afterthought did not leave her guessing about its author.

Aeyrin's eyes slowly turned to Bishop with an uncertain expression on her face. What did this mean? What unforeseen circumstances was the letter talking about? And why in Oblivion would Ulfric want to see her at all? He must have needed something important from her. Something that he could not get from anyone else. Did he need her to kill a dragon? Did he want to stage it in a way that would make his followers think that Ulfric was the real Dragonborn?

"Fuck. Shit," Bishop groaned and ran the palm of his hand over his face. This was bad. Whatever Ulfric was planning did not bode well for them. They needed to find a way to avoid this, but… how? The 'might of the rebellion' was nothing to scoff at and Ulfric was just unstable and vengeful enough to make good on his threat.

"What… what do you think he wants?" Aeyrin looked at Bishop oddly pleadingly, as if he could provide her with the answer. She couldn't hide the fear in her voice. As much as she wanted to go back to Windhelm to see for herself how the people were faring, especially the elves and Jora, she couldn't help but shiver at the thought of seeing Ulfric again.

"I… I don't know, princess," Bishop scowled deeply. "A dragon, maybe? I don't know. What else could he want from you?"

She shook her head at him in response. Gods, why was she still so scared of this man? Why did she still have to feel like this only at the prospect of seeing him? It was so debilitating, it was so… humiliating. She remembered how staggered she got at the mere meeting with his soldiers. This was ridiculous. That man didn't deserve such fear from her. She couldn't help feeling this way, but she could try. She could try to fight it.

"We shouldn't go… it doesn't sound good, but…" Bishop was still scowling as he kept thinking about the possibilities. Sadly, they seemed very limited.

"But we have to. He would turn his soldiers against me. We can't let that happen," Aeyrin sighed somberly. "I don't want to be scared of him anymore. I… I don't know what to do but… I can't really do anything but see what he wants." Maybe she could prepare herself for this. Maybe when she knew she would see him and all his soldiers, she could gather her courage and overcome this fear. She wished that the thought of that man and what he had done to her made her angry. She wished that it didn't make her just feel… paralyzed.

"Yeah… yeah… we'll go," Bishop nodded at her with determination. She must have looked really pathetic because she could already tell that he was trying to sound confident and comforting for her. "He won't get to do anything to you, I won't let him. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it. Even if we have to get out of there fighting. We will deal with the consequences later."

She nodded, but she still didn't really feel any more confident than before. Gods, she really needed to do something about that before she saw Ulfric. She couldn't let him think that he won, that he managed to break her.

Bishop's arm snuck around her waist in a comforting half-embrace and he pressed her body closer to him.

"Whatever happens, we'll be alright. We've been through worse," he whispered into her ear.

He was right. They have been through worse. So much worse. Even recently, in Markarth. They have managed to escape a Daedric Prince, for Gods' sake! They could handle one arrogant despot.

At least she hoped so.

…

"Gods, there's so many of them. What happened here?"

Aeyrin whispered as she peered down their vantage point upon a cliffside. There was an ancient Nordic barrow down below them, with a large staircase spanning all over the plain below the mountain, leading towards an enormous door.

They weren't planning on delving into any dungeons during their journey. In fact, the plan was to go straight to Windhelm before Ulfric did something brash when she didn't arrive soon enough for his liking. And for that reason, they have risked traveling across the edge of Whiterun Hold. They only picked abandoned paths through the wilderness to ensure Bishop's safety, but that had led them straight towards these ruins.

It was too tempting. The night was already upon them, but the ancient barrows did not usually take as much time to explore as Dwemer cities, and this one was hopefully no exception. They could explore the place and use the first chambers for their rest. It was safer than camping in the Hold, once the ruins were cleared out. Although no patrols would ever set foot in this location anyway, it still would provide a good shelter from the wind and snow which had been steadily picking up.

What was even more intriguing was the number of ghosts that were roaming around the area near the entrance. There were no draugr, no bandits. Only ghosts. Something happened here that has made these souls linger.

Ordinarily, Aeyrin would not hesitate to talk to the ghosts, but these ones seemed… wrong. They had watched from their vantage point as a troll shuffled its way towards the vicinity of the ruins and, within a minute, all the ghosts down by the entrance rushed towards it with their ethereal weapons drawn, attacking the beast. Their cries echoed through the plain in the silence of the night, as they called out at the unknowing troll desperately: 'Stay back! I don't want to hurt you!' or 'I'm sorry! I don't have any choice!'

These souls were clearly entrapped, forced to guard this place by whatever force lingered inside, without being able to perceive their surroundings fully. Why else would they apologize to a troll?

The best thing to do was to lay them to rest and to get rid of whatever was holding them here, lest they would return. Hopefully it wouldn't take very long. And they could always turn back.

"Yeah," Bishop nodded at her resolutely before he looked over his shoulder towards the wolf lurking behind them. "Go on, have some fun. There's not much you can do here against these things." He briefly ruffled Karnwyr's fur before the wolf ran off with what looked like an understanding nod. He couldn't really bite a ghost, could he?

"We should both get down there. Your bow won't be much help here either," Aeyrin pondered. While the paralyzing effects might have been useful, the arrows would do no damage. It would be better if they both readied for a melee combat with their enchanted weapons.

"Yeah. Let's go. We should do this quickly."

…

With a wide swing, Aeyrin smashed her mace against the last ghost haunting the area outside. The weapon went straight through its ethereal form, but the enchanted flames clung to it, enveloping the being in a fiery aura. The ghost wailed in agony as the body crumbled to the ground and dissolved into a puddle of gooey ectoplasm.

The ghosts were unsettling. They all cried out constantly, apologizing for their attacks and begging for forgiveness. Not that it stopped them from attacking the second that Bishop and Aeyrin got near the ruins.

Hopefully by exploring the inside, they would find out what was keeping them tormented here.

Bishop rushed up the stairs after he had dealt with his batch of enemies and joined Aeyrin by the massive doors leading into the dungeon.

"Well, that was kinda fun," he chuckled a little breathlessly, still heated from the battle. "Never fought so many ghosts with… something that can actually kill them." It took a while to get used to the weapon going through their bodies, but watching them shake uncontrollably and dissolve into a puddle right when the lightning from his enchantment hit them was so damn satisfying. He could do without the constant wailing though.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Aeyrin smirked. "I'm sure that there'll be more inside." She was quite eager to go inside herself. She was really curious to find out what caused these souls to linger here. And she was also eager to clear the ruins and have a warmer place to sleep through the night.

"Good. Ready?" Bishop inclined his head towards the doors and when he earned a nod from her, he pushed on the old heavy metal to open them.

Following a very small vestibule, there was a long hallway behind the doors with one more ghost inside, alert and already attacking. They have disposed of it easily. All these ghosts were weak and fell quickly. Whatever was holding them here was apparently not so powerful that it would imbue them with more than the last vestiges of their essence, but their numbers were where the strength lay.

Bishop and Aeyrin crept further down the hallway until they've reached another metal door.

"Stay back. Please."

They could already hear the muffled wails of the ghosts behind it. Those souls didn't even need to see who had infiltrated the barrow – it was as if they could sense the magic shift in the place.

They dropped their packs in the hallway, clutched their weapons and burst through the door, ready for combat. But before they could concentrate on all the ghosts in the chamber that spread out in front of them, something else had caught their attention.

There was a Word Wall there at the end of the long wide room. It was far enough not to affect Aeyrin yet, but it was plain to see. And now that she knew that it was there, she could hear the very faint distant drumming in her ears.

"Go! I've got this," Bishop called out to her while he already rushed towards the closest ghost with his sword ready. He would need to get all of their attention so that Aeyrin could make it to the Wall undisturbed.

Aeyrin didn't hesitate and rushed through the chamber, avoiding all the ghosts in her path. Bishop could hopefully take care of them. And she would be able to help him in no time. Now she had to concentrate on the Wall.

The drumming was already stronger and her vision was darkening. But there was still that bright guiding light right in front of her, just a few paces ahead. Her heavy boots clanked loudly against the stony ground underneath, but she could barely hear the sound now. The drumming was drowning out everything.

All of the sudden, she felt a strange emptiness below her feet and her stomach lurched in the unexpected momentum. There was a gust of wind coming from under her within a second.

She was falling.

She was pretty sure that she screamed instinctively, but she couldn't even hear herself. Her eyes were fastened on the light of the Wall, but suddenly it was getting further away and the only thing she could feel next was an impact. She fell into something. Something… oddly squishy.

She could barely hear a thing apart from the drumming and the light in the distance blinded her to everything around her. She had no idea where she was or what happened and all her other senses were getting overwhelmed.

There was something there that she could hear, when she concentrated past the drumming enough. A faint and distant voice.

"Finally. Another one."

…

Aeyrin's loud scream tore Bishop away from the battle.

His head snapped towards the Wall instinctively, but the only thing he could see was her suddenly disappearing from his peripheral vision as the sound of her scream got further away.

Fuck! What the fuck just happened?! Where did she disappear to?

He barely managed to dodge another ghost that launched itself at him as he rushed forward towards the Wall, ignoring all his assailants. He was sure that they followed right on his heels, but those things were the least of his concerns now.

He ran, until he reached the spot where she had disappeared. There was a stone circle, right by his feet, with a solid metal trapdoor that surely hid a hole.

Fuck! What was down there? Hopefully it wasn't some trap filled with spikes. And hopefully it wasn't a long fall.

He dropped to his knees and frantically ran his hands over the metal. He couldn't see any openings, any release mechanisms that he could use to get to her, or at least to see what was down there. He couldn't even hear any sounds from below, like a Shout to break her fall. Did she even register that she was falling? He knew what state she got in so close to these Walls.

Fuck! He needed to find her.

A chill suddenly went through his back, and he could feel something slash against it with an unfamiliar sensation, followed by a stinging pain.

Shit! The ghosts! He quickly scrambled on his knees and clutched his sword. There was one right behind him with an ethereal axe in its hand. It must have slashed him across the back. It didn't feel as if a regular weapon hit him, but it still hurt like the Void and there was that weird chill left all over his back.

Whatever. It wasn't fatal. Right? He needed to dispose of this fucker before the others got to him too and he needed to run and find Aeyrin. She could have been wounded.

She could have been dead.

Fuck! Don't think about that!

He slashed his sword through the ghost's body, sending a powerful stream of lightning through it, while he still rested on his knees.

The second that the ghost started spasming, he pulled himself up and looked around. There were two doors in the chamber, one on each side, and the other ghosts were already almost upon him. He needed to hurry.

Without further hesitation, he picked one of the doors and burst through it hurriedly.

There were stairs leading down there. Good. That was a good sign. He needed to go down, wherever it led. But there were still ghosts behind him, and several more on the stairs, already alert to his presence.

He gripped his sword tightly and rushed forward.

He would have to just dispose of these things as he ran. There was no time to lose. He needed to find her. Even if she wasn't hurt from the fall, who knew what such a long time under the Wall's effects would do to her?

Time was of the essence.

…

It was so loud that it was unbearable.

Aeyrin's ears were aching, burning and stinging and she could feel tears streaming down her cheeks from the bright faraway light. Even when she tried to close her eyes, it was still there. She wasn't sure if they actually closed, or not though.

She couldn't take this anymore. Everything felt like it was spinning and she could barely feel her body any longer. But she could still feel the strange squishy sensation below her as she writhed and turned in desperate attempts to get away from the light and the noise. And there was a strange hint of a bad smell that she knew should be overwhelming, but it was barely even perceptible in face of her other senses being brutally assaulted.

What was happening? Where was she?

She tried to feel around with her hands for something to help her stand up, something to help her climb back towards the light. She could have sworn that she felt some thin metal beneath her fingers, but she was too weak to grasp it, and when she tried again, she couldn't find it anymore. Her movements were so off and uncoordinated. And she could feel something trickle below her ear. Oh Gods. Was that blood? She would have thought that the drumming had already rendered her deaf, but she could still hear it so loudly and vividly.

She had no idea how long she'd been in this place, writhing in pain and discomfort. It felt like an eternity.

Then suddenly, there was a new sensation. She could barely feel it, but she tried all that she could to concentrate on it.

There was a hand on her cheek, stroking over it.

Her first instinct was to feel relief. Bishop had surely found her. He would get her to that Wall and everything would be alright again.

But the feeling was short-lived.

This touch… it felt wrong. As faintly as she could feel it, she could still tell. This was not Bishop's hand. It was more slender and… wrinkled. Someone else was there.

It could have been another unfortunate adventurer, caught in this trap. Or one that was about to rescue her. But these thoughts were quickly replaced by the panic in her. She couldn't help it. Her heart was beating fast in her chest and she felt like she couldn't breathe. She felt so wrong. So… threatened.

She wasn't sure if it was instinct taking over, or irrational panic. But she couldn't help it either way.

"YOL TOOR!"

…

The walls rumbled around Bishop in the narrow corridor littered with ghosts, and the familiar sound of her Shout echoed in the distance.

Thank the fucking Gods! She's alive!

He wasn't sure what was happening anymore. He was beset on all sides, surrounded by the ghosts with no way forward. His sword kept slashing wildly through them, but he could already feel more chills and pain in his back. He wasn't sure how many blows he had already received. He couldn't take on all of them, not without a tactic or a system.

But her voice filled him with new vigor. He had to get to her and take her to that fucking Wall, fast.

There was another sound following her Shout, a distant piercing shriek.

He had no idea what it was, but it was comforting to know that it wasn't Aeyrin making the sound this time. He could tell.

He slashed his sword against another ghost tiredly, but, suddenly, just as its body began to spasm, it dissolved.

It… usually took longer for them to die. And there was no ectoplasm dripping down on the floor in a puddle. It just… disappeared.

What the fuck happened?!

"Release!"

"Release!"

"Thank you!"

The ghosts around him suddenly started chanting words of gratitude and relief. He tried to look around frantically, but he could barely see any of them anymore. They were all dissolving into thin air. It took only a few seconds until they were gone. All of them.

What the fuck?!

Well… not like he would complain about that. He quickly riled himself up from the shock and rushed forward. He must have been close enough to her already since he heard her Shout.

Only two more corridors later, there was another door and he practically fell through it in his hurried flight. He had barely registered the clump of charred flesh on the ground, still smoking, before his eyes fell on a large circular cage. Its door was open and it revealed a shallow pool filled with corpses.

The stench in the room was overwhelming.

Aeyrin was lying on the pile of dead bodies, writhing and whimpering. Her eyes were closed shut with a deep pained crease on her brows and, when he rushed closer to her, he noticed trickles of blood coming out of both her ears.

Fuck! Shit!

He needed to get her back upstairs right now!

He dropped his sword unceremoniously, unconcerned with any other enemies in the area and he stepped onto some poor sod's corpse so that he could reach her. The half-rotted flesh squished beneath his boots unpleasantly and he had to make a lot of effort to hold down the bile rising in his throat.

This brought back… painful memories.

But he would not let another person he cared about get hurt in a place like this. Whatever damage the exposure to that Wall had done to her, they would fix. Whatever it took.

He bent down, closer to the overwhelming stench and collected her in his arms hurriedly.

Fuck she was so fucking heavy with all her equipment. He still couldn't fathom how she could move like that in battle.

But none of that mattered now. No matter how much his arms were aching, how much his back was stinging and chilling him, and how much his strength was leaving him, he would get her to that Wall.

…

DREM

The soft pained whimpers escaping Aeyrin's lips got slowly replaced by heavy breaths of exhaustion.

Bishop wasn't sure if it worked. How was he supposed to know if she managed to… absorb the Word or whatever? He didn't see any lights, he didn't hear any drumming. But the change in tune was surely a good sign, right? Besides, after he had rushed her towards the Wall, evading that circular trap pointedly, she did open her eyes for a few seconds.

Even though right now, she still only clung to his embrace with her eyes closed and body curled, oblivious to the world around her.

She was trying so hard to concentrate on her surroundings. The overwhelming incessant drumming finally stopped when she read the Word, but it was replaced by a persistent high-pitched ringing in her ears. It was hardly any better. She thought that once she could see the Word and once the drumming was gone, it would be alright. But it was no better now. She couldn't hear anything but the noise before and now she could hear nothing but the piercing ringing.

At least the light was gone. She felt like her eyes needed the pleasant comfort of complete darkness.

But only a few moments later, it started to make her uncomfortable. She needed to see what happened, she needed to see where she was, whether the ghosts were still attacking, whether Bishop was wounded. She was pretty sure that she had opened her eyes, but there was still only darkness.

What was the point? She still couldn't hear or see anything, even after the Word was gone. She needed to try to concentrate on her other senses.

She felt a firm brush of scratchy leather right under her ear. It was hard to pinpoint the exact location, as both sides of her head were still aching so much that she couldn't really tell where the pressure of the leather was on her skin. But it did feel like the pain was easing, little by little, and she could feel everything a bit more vividly.

She was definitely being held in Bishop's familiar embrace and his gloved hand kept rubbing her below her ear for some reason. It took her a while to realize that he was probably trying to clean off the blood there. She was pretty sure that she had felt her ears bleeding, but with these sensations, she could never be sure what was actually real. But it seemed like this was all too real.

She tried to open her eyes again. This time, she was completely sure that they were open, but there was still darkness all around her. It may have been a little better than before, or… maybe she was just getting used to it.

No, she was sure that she could hear Bishop's familiar voice, muffled under that incessant ringing.

That was a good sign, right? It would pass, it just needed more time. She wasn't sure how long she was in that state before she saw the Wall. It must have taken a toll.

"I can't hear you," she tried to communicate, but with the ringing, she couldn't even hear her own words leave her lips. There was a while when she couldn't make out Bishop's voice in that noise for a spell, or maybe he was just silent, but then she could hear it faintly again.

He kept talking, but she had no idea what he was saying.

After some time of that pointless exchange, she felt him grab her by the wrist and move her own hand up to her face. He pressed it with his own palm against her ear and his voice got predictably even harder to distinguish. The ringing didn't ease by that gesture even a little though. What was that supposed to achieve?

Oh!

Gods, she wasn't even able to think straight with the constant distractions. It took her way too long to realize what the gesture had meant. And it was even more embarrassing that she didn't think about trying this on her own much sooner.

Her hand lit up with healing magic, but the spell dissipated a bit too fast. The pain and noise were not really helping her concentration. But it did feel like the ringing was a bit better now. It was hard to tell. The noise seemed to fluctuate and run back and forth around in her skull constantly.

Before she could try again, however, she could see a vague outline of a movement in front of her eyes, and then, a cold oblong glass was pressed to her lower lip. A potion. Thank the Gods! Maybe it would at least manage to numb the pain so that she could concentrate on her own healing.

She drank greedily and a pleasant warmth started to spread through her body. The pain around her ears slowly turned from sharp to dull until it began to numb. She could finally concentrate on her magic more. Her hand lit up instantly, and she could finally focus on keeping up the magic and centering it on the affected areas. She still wasn't very good with internal organs, but hopefully the damage wasn't so bad that she couldn't handle it.

It was quite surprising that this happened at all. She always thought that the drumming and blindness had no lasting effects. Then again, maybe this would all pass eventually, but she needed it to go away faster.

"…the fuck… supposed to know…"

She could finally make out the words that Bishop was saying. Some of them at least. The ringing was still there, but likely only in one ear now. It was so hard to tell. It did feel a little better though. She pressed her other hand up to her second ear briskly to try and get rid of it altogether.

"Alright… fuck. It probably didn't work. You can't hear me. Come on, let's try this shit again," Bishop's grumbles were getting more audible now. She could feel him shift his weight below her in an attempt to lift her up. He thought that she still hadn't seen the Word. Of course, he had no way of knowing that.

"No… it's alright," she let out an exhausted sigh. "Just give me a second." He seemed tired too in his movements. Maybe he was wounded. She shouldn't let him strain himself needlessly.

Bishop let out a relieved sigh, and his body relaxed again. She moved her hands from her ears to her eyes promptly. The ringing was still there, but fortunately, it was much fainter now. She was sure that she could fix her vision a bit too.

After a few more minutes of healing, she let her hands drop from her eyes. Everything was still a little darker and blurrier than she would have liked, but at least she could tell apart her surroundings now.

"What… what happened? Are there more ghosts? Are you alright?" She turned her eyes towards Bishop.

"No. No more ghosts, sweetness. I don't know what happened. I was looking for you and then I heard you Shout. Then… all the ghosts… vanished. Whoever you killed down there, that did the trick." He reassured her and his hands moved to stroke over her hair gently.

Good. That was good. At least the souls were now released and hopefully at peace wherever they belonged. But Bishop still didn't answer all her questions.

"Are you wounded?" she asked worriedly.

"I don't know. I think so. They slashed my back a few times. Hurts a bit. It's… weirdly cold. But don't worry about me, sweetness. Are you alright? Can you hear? See?" Bishop kept stroking over her hair soothingly while the worried tone carried on in his voice.

"I'm… better. Let me see your back." She started to disentangle herself from his embrace. She wasn't sure how much damage a ghostly weapon could do, but she needed to check him quickly. Magical damage was definitely unpredictable.

And even though she still couldn't get rid of all the ringing and darkness, Bishop's health was more of a priority now.

…

"Hey, hey, easy."

Bishop chuckled a little and he supported Aeyrin when she accidentally collided with some rubble on the ground and almost toppled over. She still had a bit of a hard time with her sight and balance from her ears being damaged and it was causing some problems while moving around the dungeon, but at least she could function somewhat normally now.

Bishop was all patched up after his encounters with the ghosts, but she had no more energy to spare to try and heal herself anymore. It was hopefully a pointless effort anyway. She was sure that she just needed some rest and recuperation.

She would soon get her wish. But first, they needed to explore the dungeon a bit more to ensure that nothing more lurked in there.

Unfortunately, that meant the room with the unbearable stench of the corpse pit trap. Aeyrin still felt like the smell clung to every inch of her. She couldn't really smell it much before – all her other senses were too preoccupied and overwhelming everything else. But now the odor was unmistakable and unavoidable.

"Looks like a mage. Must have been experimenting on these poor fuckers," Bishop pondered as he walked around the room. He really hated looking at that fucking corpse pit. Even though the one at Lost Knife was far worse, it still brought back unpleasant memories. And the thought of the fact that he might have lost Aeyrin in the same fucking way did not help one bit.

The perpetrator himself was burnt beyond recognition now. His robes must have caught on fire from Aeyrin's Shout and burned him to a crisp very quickly. The rest of the chamber was still filled with his alchemical and magical components, scores of books on conjuration and necromancy as well as anatomy. It was unclear, what the man had done to bind the spirits to protect the place, but it was hardly important now. His sick experiments were over and any more adventurers that would venture into this place would be safe from them.

"Bish, what's this?" Aeyrin called out to him as they explored the room. She was looking over one of the stone slabs there which had the mage's belongings on it and she located a strange ornate box on it. It looked to be made out of gold and engraved and when she opened it, something was shining with a bright red color inside. She could not tell what it was with her vision a little impaired though. Any source of light was difficult for her eyes to process.

"Oh shit, you found one of these," Bishop rushed towards her from across the room when he noticed her staring into a tiny box which emanated red light. He knew what that was. "It's a gemstone. From some set or something. There are supposed to be quite a few of these around." He gently took the container from her when he reached her to examine the shiny, glittering red gem inside. "I don't know what they're for, but they're fucking valuable. Vex buys them off for a lot of drakes. I never found one myself before."

"'Vex'?" Aeyrin raised her brow at him.

"From the Guild. You've met her before, she was there when we took down that Dunmer dealer at the docks. And she was the one to infiltrate Honningbrew," he explained.

"Right. I remember. So… we can't really sell it to her?" She gave Bishop a skeptical look. Even if it was valuable, it was probably not worth doing any business with the Guild.

"Yeah… I guess. Not now anyway," Bishop sighed dejectedly. "Maybe once all this shit is done with, we can get some extra reward for putting up with all that Guild crap," he chuckled a bit tiredly.

That was quite a nice prospect, to have some trinket as a reminder of the better times coming in the future. At least they were hopefully coming.

"Come, love." Bishop closed the box and stashed the gem into his pack before he draped his arm over her shoulder. "There doesn't seem to be much more here to explore. Let's get some rest."

"Right… rest. And then straight to Ulfric," Aeyrin sighed in response. She was really not looking forward to their next destination, no matter how curious she was about the state of Windhelm.

"Hey, come on. Look what shit we go through regularly in any random dungeon," Bishop smirked at her encouragingly, although he himself was quite wary of being summoned by Ulfric. But there was nothing to do but to deal with what was to come, no matter how daunting.

"Whatever 'unforeseen circumstances' he's got in store for you, we can handle it. Just like everything else."