Chapters 7 & 8: The Horn; Part 1: Ustengrav

~ Few Days Ago ~

Two figures stammered and stumbled along a snowy cliff, their cheap fur cloaks not providing quite enough warmth from the icy bite of the mountain winds raging around them. They looked up in hopes of finally seeing their destination, but to no avail, either it was yet further or they could not glimpse it through the blinding blizzard's onslaught. One, blessed with fur which let him fare better, did not let the weather get to him as much though. Turning to his friend and smiling, showing off his fangs, he said, "You know, I believe that usually climbing is a taxing activity, but here, I'm sure no human would ever break a sweat!"

His friend stopped dead in his tracks and from below his hood Inigo could intercept the death glare and the message behind it: "Don't even go there" but Inigo was only just getting started. "This must be the famous Skyrim weather people all over Tamriel talk about! I'm sure they are jealous of us right now!" Inigo continued, "You must be loving it. You are half Nord afterall, this is surely in your blood. You-"

"Inigo, stop." Vincent finally muttered and carried on walking. "This whole fiasco is tiring as it is without your input. Can we please just focus on getting to this High Hrothgar monastery place to sort out this Dragonborn business. I need those old men to tell me what it is that a Dragonborn does so that I can get off of this forsaken mountain before I freeze my-" the blowing wind blocked out what Vince just said, and even Inigo couldn't hear that word "-off!" Well, one might assume the context though.

But Inigo was not letting up, and even as they were climbing the steps -apparently 7,000 of them because ancestors thought it would be a splendind idea- Inigo walked backwards just to better interact with his friend. "I may not be a people person, but something is telling me that you're on edge." he teased again.

The wind thrashed against them in one more desperate attempt to knock the pair off their feet and down the mountain side. After recovering from the blow, Vincent looked up at Inigo and this time it was his turn to smirk. "Perhaps, perhaps not... But at least I know where I'm going." he countered.

Confused, Inigo asked, "And do I not know where I- ahh!" The poor Khajiit tripped over a higher step and landed on his buttocks on a flight of carved stone stairs that led up to an imposing cathedral. The cat looked up at his victorious companion, got up and dusted himself off before muttering something under his breath. Vincent on the other hand went ahead and started climbing the stairs until he came to stand in front of ancient ornate doors. He steeled his nerves and entered.

~ Present ~

Under no circumstance, did Vincent ever imagine he would be trying to find his way through the marshes of Morthal. He had to take round-about directions in order to not tread through the murky waters full of Divines know what. The air didn't smell any better either and in this regard he could now make fun of his compatriot, saying things like "So, Inigo, I heard that your feline folk have a good sense of olfaction. Have I heard right?" One cannot deny, revenge tastes sweet.

They trekked like this for the past two hours since arriving in Morthal after hitch-hiking a ride from a carriage passing by as they were walking back to Whiterun.

'Unbelievable' he thought to himself. 'I made my way all the way to the Throat of the World just to be told that I must be a hero and that I could achieve that by fetching a horn from a crypt'. Vincent shuddered at the next thought, 'probably full of frostbite spiders and draugrs'.

His companion brought him out of his musings when he pointed to a stack of stones around a stone pit saying that this looks like an entrance to Ustengrav. After checking the map, they appeared to be in the right place. Though to Vince's displeasure, it wasn't just them. Both companions crouched low to not be spotted by the beings camping by Ustengrav. To add to Vince's ire they turned out to be necromancers if their attire was anything to go by which in turn meant that the moment they see the two, their numbers would double; three mages -a challenge on its own- and three raised dead. That is unless...

"Inigo, can you shoot one of these from here? I'd rather not tangle with six foes."

His compatriot looked at him- offended and replied "Of course I can hit them from here. I could do it with one of my paws behind my back!"

Skeptical, Vince whispered back to him "You'd use a bow, with one hand. Pray tell, how?"

Pulling out his ebony bow and without breaking his aim, Inigo smiled and replied "With my flabbergasting bownmanship skills of course." and unleashed a black arrow at their unsuspecting foes. True to his word, Inigo's arrow pierced the neck of one of the necromancers and he fell down with a thud. It was at that moment that all hell broke lose. The two remaining practitioners of the dark arts ran for cover and cast armor spells, though from here Vincent could not tell of what variety, and raised two of the three fallen bandits to fight for them.

Vincent in turn cast an Oakflesh upon himself and drew forth his sword. Then he realised that his friend isn't prepped to handle incoming spells. He turned to his friend and explained the plan to him, "Inigo, you try to stay behind me and shoot the mages whilst I fight off their minions and take on their destruction spells!"

At this point Vince prepared a Lesser Ward spell and started casting it in front of himself, just in time too. After a few seconds he could feel the impact of an ice shard. This, however, made it difficult to see the raised dead, their outlines were smudged by the spell's distortions. One seemed to weilding an iron mace, the other a steel sword, both rusty. Sluggishly, as was expected from a meak zombie, one of them swung the mace aimed for Vince's head but Vincent ducked, slashed the walking corpse's arm off and took a step back then walked to their side and raised his ward again. Inigo thankfully moved to stand behind him and stayed in cover, safe from the necromancers' ice magic. He then took aim and shot another arrow in their direction. Whether he hit or not was quite obvious since the disarmed zombie turned to purple dust after loosing it's connection with its master. That in turn meant only one was still standing.

Plus her minion.

Vincent charged at the undead bandit and engaged in a quick exchange of sword blows. After a mere few seconds he saw an opening and slashed low at it's right leg, bringing it to its knee and then proceeded to hack of the corpse's head off. Satisfied with his work he turned to face the last mage and in panic quickly tried to raise a ward. Those, however, need a moment to charge up so the ice shard hit Vincent's rushed attempt at a magical shield. The energy recoil knocked him down. When he looked up again he had to roll to the side and not a moment too soon as immediately a thick icicle embedded itself into the ground where he previously lay. Getting back to his feet, Vincent disregarded the ward spell in favour of a lightning bolt and started barraging the necromancer with electricity. In order to get a better shot, Vincent started moving around the entrance to Ustengrav but in turn the necromancer kept hiding behind the same rock that jutted from the ground. Just when he thought this was going to last for ever unless one of them would run out of magicka, the necromancer raised the last bandit; the one laying behind Vincent, all unbeknownst to Vince. The last zombie rose to his feet and raised a battle axe above it's head, readying to bring it down on his unsuspecting victim.

Vincent in turn, oblivious to the imminent danger behind his back readied another lightning bolt to strike the smirking necromancer. Before he could however, the necromancer's face was filled with pain and she collapsed on the ground with an arrow potruding out of her back. Vincent heard a clatter behind him and turned to find a pile of purple glowing dust with an iron battleaxe laying beside it. Realisation dawned on him and he felt sick; he was a hair breadth away from death until Inigo's miraculous hit. His friend walked up to him, still smiling from the thrill of the fight. In any other circumstances Vince might have even joined him.

His companion however wanted to press on, saying "Come on friend. The faster we get the Horn the earlier we can go back to a nice warm tavern in Morthal."

Swallowing back the bile that was trying to force its way from his stomach, Vincent got up and together they descended down to the depression in the ground and stepped into Ustengrav.

The two companions fought back the three draugrs fiercely. Both being experts in sword combat, they managed to keep the ancient warriors at bay with ease.

'I'll have to challenge him to a spar once we get out of here,' thought Vincent as he watched Inigo pierce the chest of one of the draugrs. He himself, not wanting to fall behind, locked blades with one of the monsters. He then tilted his own blade and let the ancient Nordic sword slide to the side and he proceeded to quickly slash the next of his opponent. Though no blood gushed out, having dried up ages ago and due to no heartbeat pumping it out, the undead still collapsed at his feet and Vincent turned to the next draugr. That one they surrounded and overwhelmed quickly.

'to think that this shall be the monotonous task we will have to carry out for the next two hours or so.' then another thought intruded his mind, 'This better not take more than a couple hours or else the Greybastards will never get their horn back, even once I acquire it.'

~ A Short While Later ~

Both stood stunned, eyes filled with wonder at the cavern in they stood in front of. The ceiling stretched at least a few hundred feet above the bottom of the chasm where Inigo claimed he could see trees and water. Vincent obviously scoffed at the idea, even if the cat could somehow see that far into the gloomy cave, there is no way that anything could grow down there. Another prominent feature of the cave were the Nordic ruins and a rock bridge that reached overt othe other side of the chamber. Alas, Vincent decided to end his reverie soon and continued down the collapsed walkway down to the... hall room? It was difficult to tell what the purpose of this section of the ruins was. As Vincent got closer he recognised some features of the hall. Some chairs, even a throne, ramparts for archers though the Divines know why one would need them here, and braziers with fires lit. How that could be that torches are always lit in Nordic ruins Vincent would never fathom.

Inigo however, tensed up, his finer ears have picked up scuttling sounds coming from the structure left by the ancients and drew his ebony sword. Without questioning Inigo's actions, Vincent drew Elegance and held it in front of him, ready for whatever danger his compatriot had sensed. After a short while, a short distance away from them, fire erupted from the ground and in the lights cast by the inferno Vincent could see the charring bones, crumbling remains of a formerly living skeleton. In the corners of the hall, other skeletal warriors awoke and ran in the direction of the living intruders.

At this, Vincent raised his eyebrows and turned to Inigo, "You know, let me handle it."

Mirthly, Inigo replied, "Oh, how brave of you, Dragonborn. How will you manage to fend off these dusty walking bones? Woe is you!"

Without sparing a second glance at the cat, Vince walked forward, ready to face of the dead. When about three were close to each other and at reasonable disance, Vincent inhaled and proclaimed forth "FUS RO!" and all the bonemen skattered in different directions. Only one seemed to remain; the one that ran over from the cavern's stone bridge and it appeared to be completely undeterred by his kinsmen lying in pieces at his feet. Vincent too wasn't impressed. He didn't even raise his sword to a suitable defensive position. When the skeleton was close enough, it sluggishly swung a short war axe over its head, only for Vincent to swiftly step to the side and with a flick of his wrist, spun his sword and hit the back of the dead man's head and the skull popped right off the spine. Immediately the entire structure collapsed.

"That was erm... easy?" Inigo half-asked and after looking at the remain closely added, "Granted, those bones probably were a few hundred years old and were bound to be fragile."

And so they both sheathed their blades and continued onwards with Inigo merrily taking the lead onto the land bridge. Vincent looked at it first, before deciding it is probably safe enough. Inigo, however, saw the hesitation and decided it would be a great moment to make fun of his friend. "Oh what is it now? Scared of heights?"

"Hardy har. No, since you're blazing the trail for me." Vince replied confidently, "Should this geological phenomenon collapse, it would collapse under your feet not mine."

Suddenly, Vincent stopped again. He was hearing strange, distant voices in his again. Like a choir whispering from afar. Taking his time to take in his surroundings, Vincent tried to locate the source of his mental perturbations, though to no avail. The chanting echoed in his head, so perhaps it wasn't located in he cavern itsel-

"Why have we halted again?" whined Inigo. He walked back up to his human friend and asked why would he not move froward.

"I'm hearing strange chantings in my head and I'm wondering what the source of that is... Perhaps some sort of enchantment cast someplace around here..."

Inigo looked down to his right and pointed to something beyond Vincent's restricted view and asked, "Would this ornate wall perhaps be the source of the curse you are speaking of?"

"Im afraid I can't see what wall you're talking about. My eyes don't functions as well in the dark as yours do." Vincent answered.

So Inigo decided to explain that the wall looked to be scratched in an oddly regular manner, and that it was curved-

"Wait! With a dragon head carved above it?" Vincent now realised what this distant chanting could be!

"Yes...? How did y-"

But Vincent cutt him off and started dragging his friend back whence they came and grabbed a torch off a wall and shot off in the direction of the chasm where the Word Wall lay. Their descent was slow due to Vincent erring on the side of caution when it came to walking next to a precipice. It turned out that there was indeed a flowing waterfall down here (additionally Vincent thought ,'Damn it, he was right about the trees growing down here.') and walked around the imposing structure that held more "Words of Power" as the Greybeards called them. The chanting in his head had reach a crescendo and was now very clear; unmistakable and identical tothe last time he had come face to face with one of those. As Vicnent approached the wall, one word started radiating light and he felt a pull to it. Vincent instinctually read the word, with a faint understanding of "Fade" or "Feim" in dragon tongue though what it pertained to was still a mystery to Vincent and he'd have to bring this up to the Greybeards.

...End of Part 1...

So sorry for the long wait! We were moving houses, then had exams, then family came over from abroad and now I'm doing extra shifts at work hence have found myself elsewise preoccupied.

Anyway, I'll try to release the second half of this chapter next week. Again, thank you for anyone who still follows and let me praise my brother-in-everything-but-blood "AndrewJohnston7" for reading through this for me and spotting five times as many mistakes as I usually do!

Like, Follow and most of all leave Reviews (they really motivate a guy to write more and its always better to know how you guys think I could improve)