A/N: Sorry for the delay, this took forever to write but please enjoy.

Bjorn sat at the fire pit watching the charred skin of the skeever he had on the skewer peels itself into blacken curls. He did not bother to turn it, the meat was already to dry and a few bites he took earlier was tasteless and too chewy that it killed what little appetite he had. Now he just sat there on the floor of this damp old crypt he was slumming in, watching the rat burn in nothing more but out of enate boredom. And Soling wasn't helping, all she did was paced around muttering to herself like some badgering hagraven.

He reaches for one of the packs they brought to camp to find a bottle with barely enough of a swig of alto wine to satisfy himself. Annoyed he tosses the bottle upon where it shattered cursing under his breath.

"We'd probably had more hadn't that orc fool Gorgel not pissed off the nearest ale house and got his arse kick." Soling murmured.

Bjorn snorted in disgust, "Who was he said attacked him?"

Soling spoke in almost that of a laugh, "Some breton bitch who runs the inn. I almost can't believe it, those worthless bastards getting their ends handed to them by some frail innkeeper."

Bjorn noticed the unfeathered annoyance in Soling's voice and watched her as she continued her brisk pacing.

"You know trying to make Nirn turn by your feet isn't going to help pass the time." Bjorn said.

Soling threw her hands in the air as she stopped pacing for a moment, "Arvel has been gone too long and Harknir went looking for him almost an hour ago and he hasn't come back neither."

Bjorn raised an eyebrow. "You're worried for them?"

"I'm worrying about my fucking cut! I want my share from that claw!" she said, "Why in Oblivion even let that fucking dunmer scout ahead?!"

"Cause he's the smart one of the group." said Bjorn.

"Pfft" spat Soling folding her arms and turning away from him. "Or so that's what he likes to tell everyone."

A lewd idea had suddenly came to mind that it gave Bjorn an unsettling smirk, "You know…" he said, "There's another way you and I can pass the time."

Soling turned back to him. "Wha…" she stopped mid speech and noticed the sly vulgar smile he had and turned back facing away again in utter disgust. "Never in your fucking life you horkerface shit!"

"Aw come on Sol…." said Bjorn getting to his feet and approaching her, she quickly walked past him facing the darkness on where the front door was. Not noticing the arrow coming flying out of the shadows and into her throat.

Her yell was a croaked up cough as blood began to pool in her throat to her mouth. The attack happen so fast that it took Bjorn a brief moment to notice Soling before she fell on the floor spitting up blood, a well placed arrow protruding from her neck. He ran to where she had stood reaching for the obsidian ebony dagger he had clasped in his holster. "What the fuc…" His words cut short as searing pain shot from his lower end, between his legs.

An arrow was right on the tender area of his groin. He had let go of the hilt of his still holstered dagger about to scream a shearing howl before a figure dashed from the shadows and clasped his mouth shut, muffling the scream.

The figure had him to the ground pinning him, Bjorn was trying the best he could from all the pain he was feeling to make out who was grabbing him. It was a man judging by the strength and broad body, he was dressed in light clothing a belted tunic with leather braces and deer hide boots, two daggers where holstered in the front of his shirt and a oak wood hunting bow with steel make arrows along with a short steel sword both weapons clasped behind him.

His face was covered in a soft linen wrap maybe to keep him conspicuous or to protect himself from the snowy winds outside judging by the flakes of snow coating his thick eyebrows with two piercing blue eyes that were glaring right down at Bjorn.

How did he get in without making a sound? Bjorn thought, the front door was a hulking mass of iron that echoed when its hinges churn. Yet the stranger was ever so silent, that or Bjorn and Soling was too distracted to notice by their bantering. It didn't matter now, all that matter was searing pain that was thrashing his body.

The stranger dragged Bjorn to the his previous seat, against a log near the fire pit. "Who...who are you?" said Bjorn through gritted teeth.

"Doesn't matter." said the stranger, his voice deep yet cool. He took a seat across from his, pulling the linen wrap from his face. Bjorn could see from the small light of the fire that the man was a nord.

Pain suddenly shot from his lower stomach causing Bjorn to clench at it feeling the blood seeping out.

The stranger notices the injury and slowly reaches into the pouch of his pocket pulling out a small red vial a health potion that could surely staunch the pain and halt the bleeding, giving him enough strength to find proper bandages. "This is yours if you can tell me why you brigands are camped out here." He said in a cool smooth voice, placing the vial next to his foot for Bjorn to see. "Your lady friend talked about some dunmer that went far ahead?"

"Arvel…" said Bjorn wincing. "Folk call him the swift…" he gurgled, it had become hard at every attempt at speaking. "He's the one who found that claw ." He managed still gripping himself in immense pain.

"Claw?"

"The Golden Claw. He got it from that trader in Riverwood, the one that has that sister with the nice tits. Dumb fool kept it as an ornament, didn't know that its a key."

"A key to what?" the stranger crouched over him.

"Don't fucking know!" Bjorn wallowed for a minute, "Legend says there's a great treasure here deep in the crypt and only the claw can open it. Arvel's the one who knows more about it so he went ahead."

"You didn't want to go with him?"

"I'm not fucking crazy!" Bjorn said with a glare. "I know the stories of places like these just like any other nord. The dead walk restless here." Those last words of his sentence, grim and cold.

That was all the information the man could get out of him. And with that the stranger rose taking potion in his hand and tossing it with a few playful catches before placing it high above a ledge far from where Bjorn was. "It's yours if you can get it." he said casually walking off.

Bjorn looked on in utter fear and anger, he could barely feel his legs and was starting to feel dizzy with all the blood that he was losing. There was no way he could reach that vial. "WHORESON!" he yelled and it echoed that was all he could manage.

Rohan didn't like here, the barrow was dark, dusty, old and hollow. The arid smell of decay did not barter well with his sense and almost made his stomach churn yet he tread on. Taking a torch he found lit on a wall with him. The elf the bandit mentioned may lit this torch as where many others to light his way back. Rohan kept his steps light and quiet, his eyes darting at every corner for any movement. The nightmares he had been having since coming to Riverwood all ended with the faint sound of harsh whispery chants with an open cavern showing it was somewhere deep within the barrow. Something calling him, luring him deeper and deeper and deeper into the tomb of Bleak Falls.

Coming down a stairwell to narrow hall, Rohan walked into an oddly designed room. A gated door was at the far end, and judging by the lever Rohan concluded was that was for opening but some gave him a feeling that there something more to what was there. One of the hint showed by that of body on the floor. An nord man, bandit by the looks laid stiffly on the ground. His pale skin was a tinge greenish and his face literally paralyzed in fear. Whatever killed him was agonizing and it showed in his expression. To Rohan's left were three columns all ornated in the totem of an animal. One a snake, the other eagle and the last a whale.

Rohan remember that the old totems were the ensemble of the ancient Atmoran gods, the pantheon of his ancestors. "Could this be the temple area of the crypt?" He wondered unknowingly but if by instinct leaning on the nearest thing he could rest upon he pondered. That nearest thing being the lever to his sudden surprise. It let out a loud clank! As it shifted, startling him.

Then suddenly he could hear the loud pop of something shooting from the walls.
His body reacted quickly and he jumped from where he once been, diving into roll and out of the path the darts that were now shooting at him. One whizzed by his ear, nearly touching him as he dove, while another did hit its mark, barely. His shoulder caught a graze, and he could feel the tense stinging numbness as the poison began to trickle in. The shooting stopped, the darts had pelted bandit, revealing that that was what had killed him. Poor bastard. Rohan raised to his feet clutching his shoulder sighing in frustration. The only way forward was through that door and yet it seemed its switch had a different agenda of use. Or was that only switch? Maybe it was a trick or maybe…

Rohan kept his attention on those three totems, something in his gut gave him feeling that those icons were more than just for show. His attention the caught up to the wall above, there it showed other totems but this time it had a sense of pattern to it and not some odd lineup. Snake, snake, whale… It showed.

Rohan's brow furrowed as he step closer to the totems, his eyes still on the pattern above. Instinctively he reached out and touched one in the center. It turned loosely as he pushed, startling him. They move? He looked back at the pattern and then moveable columns and matched them accordingly, snake, snake, whale.

Now it was back at the switch, his heart began to race he clutched at the lever. He prepared himself to dart out of the path before being shot at. With sudden pull of the lever, Rohan ran from out of the dart's path but this time nothing happened, other than the gate of the door pulling up and out of the way.

Bewildered Rohan looked on, "Clever." he said out loud, "Fucking clever!" he shouted walking further in.

It was a lot more drafty when Rohan walked further in, and almost completely dark save face to the torch he carried. That said the cold darkness did not bode well for Rohan's composure, for he was quite agitated looking for any movement in the dark shadows, the hollow silence gave him eerie feeling yet he continue forward. A few skeevers suddenly skuttle out, Rohan made quick work with them kicking one and hitting the other with the torch.

"IS THAT YOUR HAKNIR!?" suddenly echoed a voice. Rohan remained silent waiting for it to speak again.

"BJORN!" it called out, "SOLING!" it hollered again. Rohan walked down darkened corridor further towards it.

"I KNOW I WENT FURTHER DOWN BUT I NEED HELP!"

The voice led Rohan to an open chamber much different than other cramped halls and that it had no fire to provide light yet an open chasm in it's ceiling to that of a drainage cover, the bright moonlight outside proving a beam of light. Aside from its damp coldness it was rather covered wet mass of webs woven as if an army of arachnids lived here.

Something of the sight of these webs gave Rohan a chill more so than the cold air. Further ahead towards the end of the chamber at its doorway was an elf. A dunmer who was to quite some surprise caught within the door's threshold. Webbing wove around the dark elf like a thick cocoon blanket, his face the only thing exposed where his arms and legs could barely budge.

"What in Dagon's cock!?" said Rohan stepping close to the elf inspecting him.

"Quick!" hissed the dunmer, "Cut down before it comes back!"

"What comes back?" asked Rohan. And at end of his words a low hiss echoes from above and the dark elf halts his scurrying, his breath stopping in his throat as he looks ahead with his deep red eyes out wide.

Rohan turned to see what painted the horror upon the elf's face, and as he turned to see, his blood went cold. The elf screamed in terror.

Before them was a gargantuan beast of eight legs, its doubles set of dark eyes direct upon Rohan, with its bulbous fangs piercing out dripping of acidic spit as it hisses. A frostbite spider, a very very large frostbite spider came for him, crawling from the opening above and spindling down on thick web rope.

"Oh fuck…." muttered Rohan. Of course, why wouldn't there be frostbite spider here. All the wet webbing was a no brainer that there were spiders a foot. But Rohan could yet ponder the size of this monster.

It dashed towards him, its long spiney legs giving it a reach of speed. Rohan began to run from out of its path. He nimbly misses the leap it made, the spider trying to grab at him with its maw. Rohan dropped his torch during the run and spider mistakenly stepped on it, it winching in a whine from the burn.

He drew his bow, notching an arrow quick from the quiver and giving a loose. He didn't want it to get close, fighting it at close range would be the most unwise thing to do when fighting frostbite spider, especially one this size. He aimed for the face, its making its target the arrow merely bounced off as no damage shown at all. The spider's leathery chassis was almost to the same lining of that thick hide made armor. And as sharp as Rohan's arrow were they would do so much of a scratch.

Shit…. Guess he had to do this hard way. Rohan drew his sword, the spider took up the challenge and flung one its front legs at him as if to stab him. He parried the blow yet was not quick enough for another front leg to come in jabbing at his shoulder. "AH!" Rohan yelped dashing back to avoid more blows along with the sharp bite.

A stinging numbing sensation burned Rohan's arm, he slumped a bit limping away from the beast. The spider watched him the way a predator taunts its prey. Letting it feel the anguish slowly creeping round its victim and watching, giving the prey the sense of fear knowing that it was to be its last living. Rohan didn't keep his eyes off the beast, both their eyes locked in a standoff. He was short of breath, no doubt the venom was kicking in. The dread feeling as Rohen knew that the poison was going ail him slowly and…

Wait a moment…. Rohan remembered some, at least two days back. In Riverwood a night before he was to set out in the morning and hunt for some game for Mistress Sigrid to cook for supper. Sigrid had gave Rohan a small dark green vial.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Frostbite venom, lot of wild spiders around these parts and usually when folk go hunting or picking for mushrooms the poor sod would stumble upon a nest or get jumped on and bit. So we take a few doses to ward off the effects of a bite. Here take a few sips before you sleep and take a few more at breakfast before you set out. That way your body gets used to to it. Most nords adapt quick if you take regular doses."

Rohan smiled at that revelation for he remembering taking medication and although his arm burned and stung at the same time, he realized he could still move it. If he got out this alive, he will kill a mammoth and provide Mistress Sigrid a lifetime of meat after this. The spider bend its legs deep posturing itself for a pounce, Rohan got ready dodging in a roll from the leap. Both hands on his sword, putting himself in a defensive stance, concentrating. The spider virtually had no visible weak points for Rohan to exploit, its body was harden and judging by the white fine hairs on its skin, the spider looked to have been here for quite some time. It was a veteran hunter. But then… Rohan remembered, the torch it touched when it first pounced, how it whined in pain.

"FIRE YOU FUCK!" yelled the dark elf reminding Rohan that he was still here,"IT HATES FUCKING FIRE!" It was as if the dunmer could read minds for Rohan was getting to that realization.

But Rohan had no fire with him, for the torch was blown out when the spider stepped on it. And he knew no fire magic except...a scroll he found in the previous chamber had a fireball incantation on it.

Rohan almost forgot about the thing, quickly reaching for his pocket Rohan pulled out a now damp scroll. The spider was starting to begin its final charge, Rohan hoping the moisture had no ruin the magical effects open the paper. An incantation flashed from the scroll and Rohan felt his hands heat up. Suddenly two spheres of flames circulate in his palm and for a briefly Rohan could feel the magicka surge through him. The spider let out harrowing grown charging towards him once more.

With a shot of his hands great burst of inferno let out hitting the spider directly. The blasts were loud booms, the spider whined aguishly as the blasts explode upon it. A high pitched squeal from the eight legged beast. As the flames dispersed, Rohan could see the bleeding burned from the spider. It was wounded now, even better it was vulnerable. With the courage he could gather, Rohan lunged at the beast with his sword.

He went for one the front legs first, slashing at it making the big bug scream. The spider tried to counter but its injuries made its attacked slowed, giving Rohan a chance to smoothly dodge a swipe from the spider other leg. He countered cutting at that leg next, slicing it off and sending it flying.

"Yeah that's it!" cheered the elf.

In flurry of attacks, Rohan made the steady pace of dodging and countering. When the spider went for a bite, Rohan weaved from the path of his fangs, stabbing it with the point of his sword. He dodged a leg and then cut at it and then went for another leg until the pace of the battle had changed completely with the spider now fending for itself from the attacks until Rohan finished it by slashing at its maw leaving a deep long gnash and then finally as it whines in pain once more Rohan went with a stab from above. His sword piercing deep atop the arachnid's head causing it to slump dead.

A sigh of relief could be heard from both Rohan and the tethterd dark elf. Rohan looked at the large carcass as it oozed green blood, feeling complete disbelief that could slay such a beast. But still he had his mission to complete, so he took a final breath, gathered his composure, muttered "I fucking hate those things." sheath his sword, and went back to the dunmer.

The elf was quite elated despite his current circumstance, "You did it!" he beamed, smiling, "Now get me down from here!"

"Hold on." said Rohan crossing his arms. "You're Arvel aren't you?"

The elf raised an eyebrow, "Wha...I mean yeah I'm him. What of it?"

Rohan shrugged his shoulders, "Nothing just your comrades mention. Said something about some golden claw."

"Yeah I still have the claw." said Arvel. "I know how all of it works, the claw, the hall of stories, the door, I know how it all fits together."

Hall of stories? Rohan's mind was a bit muffled in thought at Arvel's explanation. "Do you hear...voices?" he asked.

Arvel was a bit stunned by the absurdity of the question, "Voices? What in Arkay?"

"Chants!" Rohan tried to explain but halted right there, "Nevermind."

"Look I don't know what are you asking maybe that spider's venom still have you fumbling but listen get me down and I promise you I will show you the treasure locked away in this place. You won't believe the power the ancient nords have hidden here." said Arvel.

Rohan was at a bit of passe at the elf's words, helpless fool that was previously still didn't tarnish the fact that he was of the brigand type and has the intention of looting this burial site. But still, was Rohan's purpose any different? He too was here in search of whatever his ancestors locked away eons ago. Yet his reasons wasn't as selfish as this common bandit was yet similar goals can reach easier heights. However Rohan instinct still quailed him to not trust the dunmer.

"Give me the claw first." Rohan said. Arvel gave look as if his mother was insulted, "Does it look like I can!? You have to cut me down first!"

True and obvious words, Rohan however was hoping to find some other way round without leaving his task completely at mercy with Arvel, yet the elf had the key and as said before knew much more that Rohan.

Drawing one of his daggers, Rohan began sawing at the thick coated webbing. Arvel could feel the coating loosen, "That's it! Almost there!"

Rohan sawed away the last chunk of web, placing the dagger back in its sheath "Alright this tomb is bigger than it looks so it's best if we stay…." His words were cut short at the shot of pain that kick to his groin. Rohan had to catch his own scream of pain as grabbed himself and slumped over.

"You fool!" Arvel laughed, dashing away. "Why should I share the treasure with anyone!?"

As far he can remember, Rohan has been stabbed, punched, kicked, broke bones, a ruptured spleen, bitten, and mauled, yet there is one thing he could stand is getting kicked in his dandies. That. Pissed. Him. Off.

Getting to his feet with anger causing him to ignore the pain, Rohan went after the slippery bastard.

Arvel was but half a meter away by then. He had scurried off into a catacomb type room. His feet sliding to a halt at the sight of the mummified bodies resting in their beds. Yet something was off, they didn't seem to be in an eternal sleep. And just as the elf thought, one had stirred. The loud patter of feet scurrying towards made one of the dried dead's eyes open. Yet there were but eyeless sockets in a gloomy blue glow. Draugr.

The boneman got to its feet carrying a sharp battleaxe in hand, yet the make was ancient that the design was almost unrecognizable. After that draugr got up, another did and soon another.

Rohan had come charging in a minute later to see the horror show before him. Four armed draugr stood before them. "Unslaad Krosis!" one croaked, it had no skin formed on its throat as it breathed no air thus forming a full tone voice was impossible. Only croaking whispers and howls was all these dried skeletons could muster.

Arvel quickly darted off, he made it to the far end of the room yet he's eagerness to get away left him unaware of the trap he set off when stepping on a loose stone. It triggered a mechanism causing switch of a barbed spiked door to come swinging at him. The force of the hit was so heavy that the dark elf flew back across the room, his limp body dead on the ground.

While Arvel was dead, Rohan was left to deal with the draugr. Drawing his blade, Rohan pushed down whatever unfettered fear he harrowed by these creatures and a bold sense of battle raged within him.

One with the battleaxe clumsily swung its blade at him, Rohan weaved from its path countering with the slash that made the draugr stumble back, another with a sword as well quickly came swinging a blow from above but Rohan quickly parried stabbing the draugr with full force kicking it off its blade. The boneman falls dead, the light in its eyes fading.

Rohan went back at the one with the battleaxe, the creature blocks his attack with the hilt of his axe but maybe in a sense it had forgotten the aged oak of its wood for the Rohan's attack was hard enough that when the draugr blocked it, the hilt snapped in half. The draugr seemed stunned by the heaviness of the blow to a point that its attention was lost not noticing the strike Rohan gave it to the head, it falls to the floor dead.

The third draugr came charging at Rohan with two small waraxes in both hands. Rohan blocked the strike and for a minute the two were locked in blades, the draugr showing a strange amount of the strength. "Av dilon!" it said in its ghostly voice.

Rohan kicked the draugr off him hard, it falls to its knees trying to counter with a strike from one of its axes, Rohan blocked it coming a second later with a strike of his own, slicing at the draugr across ways.

As that draugr then lies dead, Rohan eases his guard a little unaware of the last draugr who was at the far side of the room armed with a bow. The arrow shot at him, nimbly missed Rohan leaving a small graze of a cut on his cheek. Rohan quickly turned to see that the draugr had notched another arrow. The arrow loose and Rohan quickly dodge, tumbling into a forward roll and grabbing one of the battle axes of the previously slain draugr with him in one motion. Rolling back onto his feet, Rohan threw the axe the blade flying right into the draugr face. The light faded from its eyes as it now fell to its knees dead.

Draugr or not they still fought like men they once were and if it's one thing Rohan was good at was killing men.

He had heard of the tales of draugrs, ancient nord dead who still walk restless for after death Sovngarde would not grant them a place in their halls nor did Oblivion for their willing servitude to the tyrannical dragons granted them eternal shun.

Draugr, Rohan still had a job to do.

Going over to the now dead Arvel, Rohan went through the elf's small pack that was still holstered to him. "Dumb bastard." he mumbled going through the dunmer's effects. An empty flask of mead, a half eaten apple, a knife, a few lockpicks was there until Rohan reached the claw.

A sizeable trinket that took the shape of dragon's palm and talons made out of solid gold. Key or not this bouble would still sell for a good piece of coin. What was more peculiar about this claw were etchings carved within its palm.

Dragon, owl, bear. Rohan remember such patterns back in the first chamber which triggered a trap if there patterns were printed correctly before using the switch. His mind stayed with the fact that such puzzles would be used with this claw and so he kept the claw's given pattern in mind.

Draugr weren't the only obstacle in Rohan's endless endeavor, traps were another piece. For as he went deeper and deeper, peril was always through the next door in the next room. Swinging axes, floor pads that lit up flames when pressure was applied, a loose cave troll. It was as if this place was designed to kill you come time you walking through the door. Whatever treasure hidden here was meant to stay here.

But Rohan endured and his tenacity paid off for came the last chamber he entered. An empty hallowed hall, with ornate designs pictures. The Hall of Stories.

The name was pretty explanatory, in it it showed a priestess by the looks of its ancient garb leading their procession into a ritual on how an honored dead was buried and encased into this tomb.

At the end of the hall was the door yet it was no simple open and shut door, but a thick stone wall with three rings bound in its front. In the center of the ring was a slot that looked to where only the dragon claw could fit, the keyhole.

Coming to the door Rohan touched the rings, he knew that the door was some elaborate puzzle. To much of his surprise the rings did move as he pushed one of them. Circling it he could see that they each showed a totem animal on each turn. Just like the moving pedestals in the first room, these must show a certain pattern for it to open. Luckily Rohan had already figured. Dragon, outer ring, Owl, middle ring, Bear, inner ring. Placing the claw into the slot, Rohan took a deep breath and turned it.

The claw then took a mind of its own and automatically churned clockwise spinning the rings with it until all three were perfectly aligned. The door then moved slowly sliding down revealing an open cave like chasm.

Rohan took a torch from its walls and step forth into the darkness. His mind boggled for the sight of the cave flashed before him in his dreams as he remembered, he was here, he could feel it, he could...hear it.

Atop a hill side was a wall, a not so ordinary wall however. Climbing up to it Rohan saw an elaborate design of a dragon mural placed atop this wall with the strange calligraphy etched into the stone.

Rohan did not recognize the language, it was elven or any ancient tongue he knew. But it was old, very and he could hear it speak. The chant he would hear in his dreams were now louder and echoed the cave as if a large army was marching through singing a battle song.

Stepping closer to wall he could hear the it speak to him with his ears and from within, it was almost mesmerizing.

He was hesitant at first as he reached his hand out to touch it but something within him told him to do so anyway. At the faint touch of the wall he could hear the whispery chants echo from within him. To a point he could clearly see them within his mind: "HET NOK Faal VahLOK DeinMaaR DO DovahGOLZ ahRK aaN FUS DO UnSLaaD RahGOL ahRK VULOM!" the wall spoke, Rohan could barely understand a single thing yet one word kept speaking to him, as if it was imprinting itself upon him. Fus...Fus...Fus...Fus….

He came down here searching for answers and yet all he got was more questions.

This was the great power?

Rohan felt the urge to curse but knew it was futile it wouldn't make him or anything better. So in silence, he set off for an exit.

CRACK!

The snap of a sarcophagus nearby startled him. Stepping out was a tall draugr armed with an ancient greatsword, its eyes glowed a blue hue gleamed from the opening of its horned helmet. There was something about that draugr that Rohan could tell wasn't an ordinary draugr.

He watched as it heaved its chest as if taking a deep breath. "Fus…" it spoke "RO DAH!"

A surging wind comes charging forward, it took Rohan a second for him to realize that that he was off the ground flying into a wall across the cave.

He hit the wall with a serious thud, his body coarsing pain all over as if a troll had picked him up and slung him across.

"The fuck... was that?" he said spitting out blood. The pulsing pain had him struggling to get to his feet. He made it to where he was just taking a knee when the draugr not far stood far before and heaved its chest ready to bellow out once more.

Not wanting to bear another push, Rohan quickly look around and found a thick branded iron shield nearby, next to the clean skeletal remains of another unlucky traveler.

"Ro Dah!"

The thundering blow howls at him, Rohan blocked it in time. Hunkering down like he was taking cover from a wind storm.

As the shout went past, Rohan drew his blade charging at the creature with a battle harden rage.

The draugr with its greatsword blocked Rohan's blow, their blades now locked within one another. For someone that didn't show a bit of muscle on its skeletal visage, the draugr

was surprisingly strong. Rohan was able to get the upper hand however, pushing the draugr back and coming at him with a low swing.

It made its target, hitting the draugr in the legs. Rohan thought he could make chain attack, coming upward with a swing but the draugr caught him with a block from its broad sword. "Fus…" it began, taking a breath. "Ro-

Rohan bashes it with his shield, staggering the creature. Keeping the draugr off balance, would not give it time for its power to regain for it to shout. And so Rohan bashed the boneman yet again, and again. The draugr struggled but kept to its feet, yet it was still quite winded. With mustered strength, its swings its sword down onto Rohan, Rohan catches it with its shield.

Tired yet determined, the draugr began its cadence, "Fus…" Rohan quickly brought up the shield, pushing the draugr back.

"Ro Da-

The blade of Rohan's sword cut at the neck the draugr, and brought its head flying across the way. The head went to the ground with a thud, and the glowing of the draugr's eyes, faded.

Rohan rested his now sore sword arm, panting heavily. He took a few more breaths before finally regaining his composure and sheathing his sword, wiping the sweat from his brow.

That was a shout? He wonderd, It has to be, legends of the storm voice. The thu'um.

In the past, Rohan had read books telling of his ancestors, in ancient days. The Nord Tongues as they were called ,masters of the Voice. The Voice was ancient magical power that had long been forgotten in Nirn. No one has used it or saw someone use it since, well... until Ulfric Stormcloak.

But now the sight of this draugr had Rohan's mind in a different tumble. Was that the treasure? A shouting draugr?

There had to be something here. Rohan wasn't ready to leave believing he had risked his life for nothing. The dreams he had been having, that wall calling to him and now...nothing?

Stepping over to the coffin where the draugr had laid, Rohan had the inclination that maybe that draugr was placed here from all the others for a reason, gaurding something maybe. And to his surprise it was, just something he wasn't expecting really.

Inside the draugr's bed was a stone tablet. There were markings on it, the same as the ones on the wall, Rohan could translate them yet the lettering felt familiar to a point that if he looked at it hard enough maybe he could read what it is.

Like when he was studying the chanting wall before, something within his very essence told him that he should know what this means. But he didn't and after all this trouble, Rohan finally had to realize the fact that he just wasted his time, fighting through dusty old tomb filled with spiders and undead assholes who should know that the dead should stay dead, all for a rickety old slab that could possible say privy.