Chapter 4
Saqho-yol jolted into full wakefulness. Visions of fire and darkness. Visions of Alduin. They flashed across her eyes and then faded back into the wall of her room in the Bannered Mare. She sighed, and scrubbed some of the tiredness from her face.
"Are you going to haunt me forever, Alduin?" She muttered into the silent room.
She got out of bed, finally, and picked the still-unopened package out of her travel bag. She cut the ties on it with one of her swords – she was going to have to get something less ponderous to do small work like that with – and grinned. The Jarl had given her a lovely set of studded armor, that gave off a very subtle aura of power.
It fit just about perfectly – it was maybe a bit large, but nowhere near as big as the Stormcloak cuirass had been. Immediately, she felt stronger somehow. She grinned. Your doing, Farengar? She stashed her night clothes into her bag and fastened her sword belt around her waist. The two Imperial swords were steel, and better than anything she'd found thus far, so she kept them.
She nodded her thanks to the barkeep as she headed out of the Bannered Mare, and set off for Riverwood. It was just before dawn, so not many people were out and about. The guard posted outside the Mare saw the swords that she was carrying and snorted a laugh.
"Need a blade? Talk to Adrianne at the forge." He said.
Saqho-yol laughed. "My good sir, you might be psychic. I needed a dagger this morning."
The guard chuckled uneasily at that. "Stay out of trouble, Redguard."
She nodded, and jogged off in the direction of the main gate. If her memory was correct, Adrianne's forge was right next to it. Lo and behold, she was correct, and the wiry little woman was puttering away at the tanning rack. She spotted Saqho-yol as soon as she ran up. Her long years of practice was evident in the way she never stopped working, even as she watched the Redguard.
"I've got some great pieces out here if you're looking to buy, more inside." She said.
Saqho-yol nodded, "Actually, I'm not much of a blacksmith, but I heard you arguing with that Battle-Born guy yesterday, and I wondered if there's any way I could help out."
"Yes, actually," Adrianne sounded pleased for the help. "How about you smith me an iron dagger? Here's everything you need to make one," she handed Saqho-yol an iron ingot and some leather straps and nodded to the forge. "Go ahead."
Saqho-yol nodded, and carefully stepped around Adrianne to get to it. The hammer felt familiar in her hands, and she vaguely remembered days of her youth spent watching her father, Loan, carefully crafting blades and armor for the locals. She remembered the process clearly, as she was always interested in anything her father did and took copious mental notes.
After a few tries and figuring out how to work the forge, she soon was wrapping an iron blade with the leather strips. It wasn't perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it was a serviceable blade.
"Not too shabby," Adrianne called from behind her, "Apprentice level work, but
solid. Keep at it."
The blacksmith walked Saqho-yol through the finer points of making blades and hide armor for about an hour, before she realized she had to go. She bid the smith a fond farewell and promise, mentally anyway, that she'd come back and help with the business some day.
The trip back to Riverwood only took about half the time it took going the other way. She arrived to find everything normal, but Ralof was nowhere to be seen. Saqho-yol shrugged and went about trying to find someone else who could tell her how to get to the barrow. After much wandering about, she figured the Riverwood Trader would probably have at least one adventurer milling about somewhere. Instead, she stepped into a management argument.
"Well one of us has to do something!" A woman shouted at the man behind a desk.
"I said, no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" He replied stridently.
"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Lets hear it!"
"We are done talking about this," the man glanced in Saqho-yol's direction for the first time since she entered the place, and did a double take.
"Oh, a customer," he stuttered, "Sorry you had to hear that."
The other woman stalked off angrily, as Saqho-yol strode casually up to the desk.
"I don't know what you overheard, but the Riverwood Trader is still open. Free free to shop."
Saqho-yol smirked. "Actually, I overheard a lot. Did something happen?"
The man looked slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, we did have a... break in. But we still have plenty to sell. Robbers were only after one thing. An ornament, solid gold. In the shape of a dragon's claw."
"So," Saqho-yol said, leaning forward on the desk, "What if I told you I could get your claw back?" She mentally slapped herself, because she was probably adding to the sellsword stereotype.
The man looked hopeful enough though. "You could? I've got some coin coming in from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring my claw back."
Saqho-yol smiled. "You don't have to pay me, sir. I don't like walking into fights any more than the next guy. I just figured I'd try to resolve it."
The shopkeeper chuckled and nodded in sympathy. "Now, if you're going to catch those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, northeast of town."
"So this is your plan, Lucan?" Said the woman from behind Saqho-yol.
"Yes, so now you don't have to go, do you?" The man, Lucan, said.
"Oh really? Well I think your new helper here needs a guide."
Saqho-yol just crossed her arms and stared at the sword lying out on the desk, trying not to laugh at the exchange.
"Wh- no... I... Oh, by the Eight, fine. But only to the edge of town!"
Saqho-yol looked over her shoulder when she heard a chair scrape the floorboards, and nodded to the woman. She looked back at Lucan.
"Funny. I was headed up that way anyway and actually came in here looking for a guide. Be seeing you then." She waved and followed the other woman to the door.
"Until next time." Lucan called, somewhat bitterly, behind her.
Outside, Saqho-yol chuckled quietly to herself and gave the small woman a once-over. She didn't look like the type to be out chasing thieves, but, maybe she was a magician and not a fighter.
"So, where are we going?" She asked.
"We have to go through town and across the bridge to get to Bleak Falls Barrow," the small woman said. "You can see it from here though. The mountain just over the buildings."
The woman started walking, and Saqho-yol followed as she rambled on about the thieves being absolutely crazy for wanting to hide in a crypt. They stopped, Saqho-yol bid the woman adieu, and continued on up the path at a jog. If they were smart bandits, they would have gone by then.
She had a bit of a scare when she came across an actual bandit camp on the way up to the barrow. She dispatched all of them rather quickly, however, and moved on when she found that none of them had the claw with them.
The peaked arches of the barrow were an imposing sight, and Saqho-yol brought out her bow before she was even close to it. The possibility of bandits firing arrows at her was keeping her on her toes. She crept up over the first set of steps, and listened for footfalls. She heard them, a little too late.
A Redguard with an ax came barreling down over the stairs. Saqho-yol dashed backwards, notched an arrow, and fired it into his throat when his arm came up for a slash. He went down fast. The second guy, an Orc with a battle-ax, rushed her, and she fired into his chest plate. It stuck, but did no damage. She dodged as the Orc swung down, and fired into the back of his skull when he galumphed past. An arrow flew past, not two inches from Saqho-yol's nose. She turned, and aimed at the other archer. They both moved, both missed. Saqho-yol gave up trying to shoot and dashed forward with both of her swords drawn instead. An arrow hit her left side. She spun, swinging both of her swords in a wide arc. The archer fell.
Saqho-yol sheathed her blades and pulled the arrow out of her side with a gasp of pain. Blood welled up in the wound, and she pressed her hand against it. She muttered a healing spell, and held onto the comforting warmth for as long as her willpower allowed. It still hurt, that wasn't going away for a while, but she had to figure out which of the bandits has the claw. Upon inspecting all of the bodies, she found that none of them did.
She sighed, and went into the barrow.
She expected a dusty old crypt. She found a half-caved-in cavern with rays of light shining through the ceiling. She heard someone talking up ahead, and moved cautiously forwards, trying not to make noise.
"That dark elf wants to go on ahead, let him. Better than us risk our necks."
"What if Arvel doesn't come back? I want my share from that claw!"
"Just shut it and keep an eye out for trouble."
So, the Dunmer has the claw. Saqho-yol crept around the corner, drawing her bow. She fired at the first Nord that came charging. He dropped to one knee. The other, a woman, became very well acquainted with Saqho-yol's blades. She killed the man before he'd gotten back to his feet. No dark elf in sight, she moved on.
One long series of cavernous tunnels later, Saqho-yol was greeted by the sight of a man pulling a lever and releasing several dozen arrows. On himself. She winced as the guy dropped to the floor.
She walked carefully into the room, wary of traps. Seeing no obvious ones, she relaxed marginally. She wasn't about to pull the lever. To the left were three stone blacks with carvings on them, that looked like they could be moved. In front of the lever was a closed gate, and a carved face with a snake in its mouth. Above the gate were two more of those carvings, another with a snake, and one with what looked like a fish.
Saqho-yol smiled, and rotated the stone blocks to the correct combination. She pulled the lever, and the gate rose open.
"So much for smart bandits." She muttered, and continued on.
She went down a spiral staircase, killed a few skeevers, and then knew she was in trouble. The room was covered in spider webs. She felt her nerves tensing as she jogged along through the passage, and jumped when she heard a voice from somewhere up ahead.
"Is... is someone coming? Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"
She dashed forward, and stopped just short of an empty doorway covered in cobwebs. She sliced them cleanly away, and stepped through, on the other end of the room was a Dunmer struggling against a binding of webs. Suddenly, the biggest spider she'd ever seen dropped from the ceiling. She immediately drew her bow and fired as it clattered forward.
"Agh! Kill it! Kill it!" The Dunmer shouted.
Adrenaline kicked in, and she dodged to one side as it spat venom. She shot at it again, and ducked behind the doorway. She heard it skitter away, and notched another arrow. She stepped through the door and fired at it again. It came back dashing. She held her ground, and shot it between its mandibles. It collapsed not two feet in front of her. She shuddered at the sheer size of the beast.
"Get me down! Get me down!" The Dunmer was all but sobbing as she jogged across the room.
"Are you Arvel?" Her voice surprised her by staying relatively steady.
He nodded. "You did it. You killed it. Now cut me down before anything else shows up."
"Where's the claw?" Saqho-yol raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, the claw. I know how it works. The claw, the markings, the door in the Hall of Stories. I know how they all fit together. Help me down, and I'll show you. You won't believe the power the Nords have hidden there."
Saqho-yol eyed him warily, but capitulated. "I don't have any idea what you're on about, but, I'll see if I an get you down."
Arvel sighed in relief. "Sweet breath of Arkay, thank you."
Saqho-yol made short work of the webs, but kept her swords drawn. When Arvel tried to run, she stabbed him in the back.
"Word of advice for your next life. Don't run from people with swords." She muttered.
A golden glint on the floor caught her eye, and she picked up the claw. Smiling, and noting the small emblems in the bottom of it, she continued ahead.
She felt vaguely pleased to see that she'd apparently come to the crypt part of the barrow. She wasn't happy at all to find loads of Draugr waiting for her with swords drawn. She dispatched them with minimal injury, and was careful to go around the pressure plate in the floor. Don't let the door hit you on the way out, she thought wryly.
She continued on through half a dozen more rooms like this, at least two caverns, and a bridge before finally opening the door into the Hall of Stories. The murals carved into the walls didn't mean anything to her, but she saw the circular door at the far end and jogged for it. It was sealed, but it has an imprint on the inner circle that looked like a dragon's claw would open it. Saqho-yol dug the claw out of her pack and inspected it again. There were three rings on the door, and three circles with animals in them on the bottom of the claw. She set each ring so that they matched the circles on the claw, and then slid the claw into the door, turning it both ways. The door, miraculously, slid into the floor, revealing a tall, wide staircase.
Saqho-yol smiled, and ascended the stairs. At the top was a short hallway that led into a huge cave. She made her way forward, and flinched when a small swarm of bats came rushing at her face. She heard it then, some kind of pulsing voice. It seemed familiar. She crossed a bridge and went up a few steps. The chanting was louder now. The looked to her right, and the words found her.
A curved, stone wall was in front of her, with carved, triangular notches spread evenly along its surface. One set of carvings was giving off an aura. Saqho-yol felt it, and the word chanted to her, calling her to it. She walked forward, slowly, entranced by the word. She came closer. The letters burned their way into her mind, formed pictures. The chanting overwhelmed her suddenly, and the word forced itself into her soul.
Saqho-yol staggered away from the wall. Her vision was blurred. She heard something crack open behind her, and she turned to find a Draugr, in full armor. Blades flashed. The Draugr slumped to the floor. Saqho-yol sheathed her swords again, and nearly fell over when she tried to take a step. There was a deep gash in her left shoulder where it had gotten her. She searched in her pack, found a red potion, and downed it in one go. While she was waiting for it to really take effect, she searched the Draugr and found a peculiar slab of stone, with markings on it. It looked almost like a map of Skyrim, but...
Then, recognition dawned on her.
"Oh yeah," she muttered, "That's what I came in here for." The dryness of her mouth and throat made her voice sound even huskier than usual.
She gently placed the Dragonstone into her bag, and slung it over her uninjured shoulder. She stood up from where she was sitting on the late Draugr's tomb, and looked around for an exit. A staircase led up behind the word wall, and she followed it up into a tunnel. She came to a dead end, with nothing but a lever. She pulled it, and a chunk of stone slid into the ceiling in front of her. She followed the tunnel toward a bluish light.
Saqho-yol emerged from the tunnel, and was nearly blinded by the change in lighting. The crisp air was welcome, and only when she smelled it did she realize how much the barrow stunk. The smell clung to her, mold and dust and rot. She vowed to take a swim should she find a stream on the way back, and she set off for Riverwood, and Whiterun beyond. Better hurry, she thought, the sun's going down.
Middas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201, Dragonsreach
I'm sitting at one of the long tables, resting my feet and legs before I have to go talk to Farengar. He's got a visitor in there and I really don't want to disturb them. I just had a long day of crawling through crypts, killing bandits, spiders, and Draugr. I swear, those bone-walkers need to learn the meaning of the word dead. I bet the Imperials could teach them a thing or twelve. But seriously, I came -this- close to being spider food, and I am still shaking. The cut in my shoulder has healed over pretty well, but it's still a bit tender.
So, it turns out that some idiot of a Dunmer had Lucan's claw. That was easy to get. He was happy as a Nord in a blacksmith's shop to have it back, and payed me a nice sum even though I told him not to. I'm not complaining though. I probably need the money.
And then there was the wall. I don't have any idea what it is, or who built it, but I still have that pattern of scratch marks stuck in my head. It was almost like it was a word. The weirdest part, though, was that it reminded me of that dragon that attacked Helgen. And it called to me. I can still feel it...
Thank you Irileth. Reminded me that I should go see Farengar at my "earliest convenience."
Saqho-Yol