CHAPTER IV

Trekking through the barrow, further in to the bowels, I caught the sickly sweet smell of a spiders venom. Treading even more cautiously, webs began to coat the walls the further I ventured.

"Is...is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?" A voice cried out fearfully. "Someone! Please help me!"

I peeked around the corner, gasping at what I saw.

A cavernous room, covered completely in white webs, and decorated with the bones of fallen adventurers. In the midst of it all, a bandit was strung up in the doorway, wriggling against his silky binds.

"Oh gods...Here it comes again!" The bandit squealed.

Then from the ceiling, a massive frostbite spider descended.

It crashed to the webbed floor, hissing and spitting venom my way. I caught the mess on my shield, allowing it to slide off the slick steel before dashing forth and hacking away at the beast. It died with a horrible shriek, leaving me to pad disgusted over it's corpse.

"Great you've killed it. Now get me down from here!" Through his silky mask, I could see the bandit to be a dark elf, his eyes like glinting pools of blood in the dark. "Where's the golden claw?" I demanded.

"Yes yes! I have it. Cut me down. You wont believe the power the Nord have hidden here."

Skeptical, I slashed at the stringy prison and let him fall to the ground.

He laughed, before scrambling to his feet and running off. "You fool!" He shot back, his cry echoing around the stone halls. "Why should I share the treasure with you?"

I growled, chasing him down the decrepit corridors. Chuckling all the way, I was no match for the lightly armored elf, and found myself clunking three steps behind his every two.

I stumbled in to the next chamber, instantly feeling a sense of danger. The elf felt it too, for he stopped dead in his tracks.

Then the deathly low groan of the Draugr sounded, and the dead crawled out of their graves. The elf squealed, desperate to run away. His fleeing only led him to a spike trap, which cut him down with the sickening sound of steel embedding itself in to flesh.

I chopped at the Draugr who ventured from their tombs, allowing them to die once more by my blade.

When they lay slain, and the crypt was quiet once more, I took to searching the bandit for the claw.

Sure enough, his satchel contained the golden claw, along with a journal detailing the elf's plan to abandon his companions and claim the treasure for himself, and detailing the secret of Bleak Falls Barrow.

I weighed the claw in my hand, staring down the twisting stairs that lay ahead.

I should have gone back to Lucan. Given him the claw, claimed my reward, and been on my way.

But the thought of hidden secrets and untold riches...

An elf was not fit for such a bounty. The Nord's were my ancestors. A Nord should claim their prize.

I slipped the claw in to my own satchel, avoiding the spike trap and whistling as I went further through the barrow.

After solving the mystery of the Nordic puzzle door, I stepped foot in to a massive cavern.

I stared slack jawed at it all. Water fell in jets from the ceiling, filling a small stream which ran through the middle. The place hummed with power, torches still lit after thousands of years. I climbed the steps, coming face to face with the ancient word walls carved from a stone one could only describe as the midnight sky.

Black as an abyss, emblazoned with the talon scratch dragon tongue. Thousands of years of history was etched on that wall. I inspected it with care, memorizing every mar on it's ebony face.

One scrawl of characters burned blue against the wall. I ran my gauntlet over it, reaching deep in to my memory to recall the teachings of my father. The markings tugged on my mind, begging to be deciphered.

"Fus." I said aloud. "Force."

The word resonated within me, pounding like a war drum just beneath my breastbone. So focused on the odd power rumbling inside of me, I jumped at the sound of stone cracking and a Draugr growling.

I turned on the rising dead, weapon raised, shield ready to defend any blow delivered it's way.

The draugr clumsily brought down his war hammer, crushing me beneath it's weight. With all my strength, I pushed back, making him stumble.

I gave a yell, stabbing him through the middle. His jaw hung precariously off the bone, a blood-curdling wail escaping from it. His sinewy hands grasped the blade of my sword, his fingers bleeding as he pulled himself along the sword.

I ripped it out of him, his hands crumbling as his fingers came flying off.

The draugr fell to his knees, though he still swung wildly at my legs.

"May you find peace in Sovngarde." I said, thrusting my sword through his forehead.

He gurgled a moment, as his undead-life left him. When the eerie blue light faded from the bare sockets in his head, I eased my blade out of him with a sickening slurp. I pushed back the lid of the chest that sat beside the cracked tomb.

Expecting glittering gold and jewels, I sighed angrily.

"Nothing." I mumbled. I brushed the bottom of the chest, my gauntlet catching on something. Curling my fingers beneath it's edge, I was able to lift a slab of rock from the dust infested chest. Coughing as the years of stagnancy assaulted my lungs, I swept away the grime, revealing more etchings of the dragon tongue. The stone was cut and polished to perfection beneath the dirt and age, obviously worth some amount of coin...

But it wasn't gold.

I shoved it in my satchel anyway, hoping Lucan would buy it off me.

"No. It's far too expensive." Lucan said, stroking his golden claw like it was a darling pet.

I groaned, shoving it back in to my satchel. "Fine."

I stalked back in to the sunshine, glancing up and down the road. 200 septims in my pocket, I crossed the road to Alvor's forge.

"Blacksmith!" I called, squinting against the sun to peek in to his workplace. There was no sign of him. "Alvor!"

He came running down the road, panting wildly.

What is it I asked, drawing my weapons.

"A dragon!" He gasped, faltering against the stairs of the forge. "It attacked Helgen."

I raised an eyebrow, not daring to look at him as he caught his breath.

Gods be damned...

"And..." I felt his gaze locked on me. "One of the prisoners escaped. They say he's an Aesir."

I swallowed hard. "I have your gold." I said simply, extending the bag of coins. "I don't want any trouble."

"Neither do I." He said, standing to his full height to look me in the eye. "I can clear your debt...If you do something for me."

"And what is it that I can do?"

"The Jarl needs to know of this dragon attack. Riverwood is defenseless."

I nodded. "Of course. I will tell the Jarl." I turned to leave, but Alvor caught my arm.

"One other thing."

I looked over my shoulder at him.

"If you are the son of the king...The true king."

I caught a sadness in his eyes as they left me.

"Tullius has taken so much from Skyrim. He has destroyed our home, demolished the spirit in her people." He stared in to the flames of his forge, a single fiery tear rolling down his charcoal stained cheek. When his gaze settled back on me, all the sadness and despair had left him. Only anger remained.

"Make Tullius suffer. Bring life back to our land."

I reached out a hand, gripping his strong shoulder. "I promise." I whispered.

He nodded gratefully, mirroring my actions.

"You look like the Queen." He whispered. "I only hope you inherited her kindness as well."

I swallowed back the threat of tears, stepped off Alvor's steps, and began my journey to Whiterun.

"Halt!" The guard said, as I approached the gate. "The city is closed due to the recent dragon attacks."

News traveled fast in Skyrim...

"Riverwood calls for aid." I said, sheathing my weapon. "I come on behalf of Alvor, the blacksmith."

"Alvor?" The guard questioned. "He's a good man. Alright...You can enter."

He pulled the gate open, nodding me forward.

I let my shield fall to my side, and I strolled through the quaint city. Some squealing children ran by, playing some game. Merchants shouted out their wares from the market square, heavily armored mercenary's swapped stories of their adventures. I followed the cobblestone path all the way up the stairs and to the magnificent Dragonsreach. The home of the Jarl, since the defeat of the mighty Numinex.

I pushed open the heavy doors, being enveloped in warmth and the smell of a feast being prepared.

Though through the happy surroundings, I sensed tension. A worry in the atmosphere.

I was cautious in my approach to the Jarl's throne, where three angry voices were engaged in argument.

"My lord...We must give it time. The movement of troops will not bode well. Ulfric will view it as a provocation." A blue robed imperial spoke to the Jarl, standing meekly, and wringing his hands nervously.

"I will not stand idly by as a dragon burns my hold and slaughters my people!" The Jarl boomed.

I cleared my throat, only to be met by the ring of a blade.

"What is the meaning of this?" A dark elf demanded.

"I have news of the dragon attack at Helgen."

Her red eyes widened. "Well. That explains why the guards let you in." She sheathed her sword, and stepped aside.

"Thank you, Irelieth." He nodded to the dark elf.

I stood before Jarl Balgruuf, bowing slightly.

"And who you might you be?" He asked, looking me up and down.

"Just a traveler." I lied.

He raised a brow. "Just a traveler?"

"Alvor has asked me to warn you of the dragon. He worries for Riverwood. They are defenseless."

"How do you know of the dragon?"

"I was at Helgen."

"And you saw this dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes. I had a great view while the imperials were trying to cut my head off."

"The imperials." He scoffed. Then he stared at me with an increased intensity. "Why were they trying to cut your head off?"

I shrugged. "They caught me at the border. I was only trying to get in to Hammerfell."

"Uh huh." He sounded unconvinced. "Well. You were brave enough to get out of Helgen. You're a cut above the average messenger. In fact..." He rose up out of his throne, coming down his steps to meet me. "There's something you may be able to help me with."

"My lord I do not know-"

"You will be paid handsomely." He added, a twinkle in his eye.

I sighed, but nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good." He beamed, and led me to a room off of the main hall. An arcane enchanter hummed in the corner, soul gems strewn across the map covered table.

"Farengar!" The Jarl called.

A man stumbled out of a tiny room, juggling potions and scrolls. He threw them on to the already cluttered table, looking to the Jarl with a grin and no breath.

"Yes, my lord? How may I be of assistance?"

"I think I found some one to help with your...Dragon problem."

I glanced at the Jarl, a brow raised.

"Ah yes! Wonderful!" Farengar said.

"I'll leave you to it." The Jarl said, returning to his throne.

"So...You think you're worthy of undertaking my most important mission."

"The Jarl seems to think so." I said, holding a soul gem to the light.

"Great. I have an...Item which needs fetching. A simple task."

"Just tell me where I need to go."

"Ah. You're eager to begin your journey." The wizard chuckled.

"There is a dragon artifact, hidden deep within Bleak Falls Barrow. A stone tablet. I think it will help me figure out why the dragons are returning."

"Bleak Falls you say?" I reached in to my satchel, fingers curling around the smooth stone tablet.

"Yes. Near Riverwood."

I smiled, pulling the artifact out and sliding it across the table.

"The Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow! You are a cut above the goons the Jarl usually sends my way."

"Is there something I can get for this?" I asked.

"That...Is where our business ends. You'll have to speak with the Jarl."

I sighed, but turned to leave the flighty wizard.

"Farengar!"

Both our heads snapped up, as Irileth came running.

"Farengar. A dragon is attacking the west tower."

"A dragon!" He beamed, almost vibrating with enthusiasm. "How exciting! What was it doing? What did it look like."

The housecarl glared at the wizard. "I'd take this a little more seriously if I were you, mage." She jerked her chin my way. "You should come too."

I quelled my protest, and followed the elf to the throne, where Balgruuf was once again engaged in an argument.

"Send all of the men we have! Take that thing down."

"My lord." Irileth said as we drew near.

He whipped around, zeroing in on me. "You. Go to the western watchtower. Kill that beast."

"My lord...What of my reward?"

He chuckled. "I have not forgotten your services." He unsheathed a gleaming gold sword, presenting it to me with a grin.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Elven made?"

The Jarl nodded. "Imbued with flame."

I held the feather light blade in my hand, inspecting it beneath the candle light. Elven...I still was unsure.

"I must ask for your services once more." He said, a darkness in his voice. "You survived Helgen. You have more experience with these monsters than anyone else."

I sighed, slipping the humming sword in to it's sheath and belting it around my waist. "Just tell me where you need me to be."

The Jarl smiled again, and with a new found enthusiasm, ordered me to the Western Watchtower.