"Gods—it's so cold up here," Erik shivered as he and M'rissi trudged through the deep snow.
His iron armor did nothing to protect him from the elements. M'rissi, on the other hand, was having a better time. Her soft fur and leather/fur armor kept her warm—at least warm enough so that she wasn't freezing.
"You should have listened to M'rissi," she said with a sly smirk. "These mountains are very cold—and your metal armor would do nothing to help you."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Erik replied. "The next set of armor I make, I'm lining it with fur," he mumbled to himself.
Through the blizzard, he could make out the silhouette of a tower in the distance, and next to it was a faint light from a torch.
Erik stopped, putting a hand on M'rissi's shoulder.
"We have to get past that tower to get to the ruins," he said as the light moved towards the entrance of the tower. "And that's a person."
"A bandit, maybe?" M'rissi asked.
"Most likely—the ruins are out of the way, no one ever comes up here if they don't have to."
"It's too cold for me to fight—"
"M'rissi will take them out—"
"M'rissi, wait," Erik said, stopping her from drawing her bow. "This wind is too strong. Chances are, they wouldn't notice if we slipped by."
"Are you sure you want to take that risk, Erik?" M'rissi asked. "She does not know if that would work."
"Just trust me, alright? If there is one, there are more that we don't see."
M'rissi nodded, and leaned to him to kiss him.
"M'rissi will be sure to keep you warm tonight," she purred and gave a sultry smirk as she nuzzled his bare arm, careful to avoid the iron plates.
"I would like that very much," Erik returned her smirk and kiss before they continued to sneak through the blizzard—which only seemed to get worse as they got closer to the Barrows.
When they approached the final stretch, voices cut through the deafening wind. The two of them stopped in their tracks, looked at each other, and then tried to make out the conversation.
"This damn blizzard hasn't stopped since yesterday," one voice groaned as Erik peeked over the steps and saw several bandits huddled around a fire that was barely staying lit under the heavy winds.
"If this keeps up any longer, we'll have to go inside—I don't care what Arvel says, his little project isn't worth freezing to death over."
"I count five," Erik said through the wind. "I don't think we'll be sneaking past them this time."
M'rissi nodded, drawing her bow and nocking an arrow.
"Wait," Erik stopped her from drawing her string back. "Maybe we can talk to them."
"Are you certain?"
"It's worth a try—I'd rather not spill anymore blood than I have too," Erik said, standing up and almost being knocked down by the wind.
When the bandits noticed him approaching, they all drew their weapons.
"Hold! Any further and your head rolls," one said. A Nord, Erik guessed by his accent.
"How in Oblivion did he get past the tower?" another asked.
"It's this damn blizzard. They must not have seen him," another answered.
"Hold on," Erik voiced as he held his hands in the air. "I want no trouble. I'm here on business by the Jarl's court wizard."
"Turn back and tell your wizard he can shove his business up his arse—these barrows belong to us," the bandit closest to Erik replied.
Erik sighed and slowly lowered his hand to his side and produced his bag of gold.
"I've lost count of how much gold is in this—but if you let me and my partner pass through and do what we need to do, it's yours."
"All of it?" The bandit in front of Erik perked up, his eyes locked to the hefty bag of gold.
"Every septim," Erik assured him, and tossed the bag to the ground between them. "I don't need it—I can get more—but we need to get into Bleak Falls and get what we were asked to retrieve."
"And what would that be?"
"A stone with a map of Skyrim carved into it."
"That's it?" the bandit asked after a moment as he sheathed his great sword and picked the bag of gold up. "Follow me," he said, motioning towards him.
Erik turned back to M'rissi and nodded, giving a thumbs up, and soon the three of them were inside the ruins.
"You gave them all of our gold?" M'rissi asked. "But she thought we needed that gold!"
"We can earn more," Erik replied as the bandit took them deeper into the Nordic tomb, where the light grew dim. "Besides, for what we're getting in return for this, it's worth the trouble."
"Either of you have a torch?" the bandit asked.
"No—but M'rissi can see in the dark just fine," M'rissi replied, stepping up and stopping the bandit from taking another step. "She would not step there, if she were you. There is a trapped slab."
"Thanks," the bandit said with a sigh of relief. "I can't see for shit in these damn tombs."
"Here," M'rissi said as she grabbed an unlit torch off the wall and handed it to Erik. "Use your magics."
"You're asking me to use my magic? I thought you hated magic?"
"She—she does—but—she is safe with you. She knows you will not hurt her with your magic."
After a few more moments of hesitation, Erik nodded, and his hand lit with a dim fire. Moments later, the torch was lit, and handed off to their would-be guide, who nodded and continued to lead them.
"You may want to be careful deeper in. I can only take you so far—but the Draugr are restless down there—and there are frostbite spiders as well. Big ones."
"Thanks for the heads up," Erik said as he used his fire to warm his hands. "So, will your boss be mad at you for bringing us down here?"
"Pro'lly, but it won't be for long. That bag you handed over was pretty heavy—he'll be happy about that. Why so eager to hand it over? Are you runnin' from someone?"
"Something like that," Erik replied as they neared a chamber where sounds of clicking and tapping echoed. "Spider."
"Sounds like one of the bigger ones," the bandit groaned. "Damn it."
"Couldn't we blind it?" Erik asked.
"No—we'll have to kill it. I hope you're good with that sword."
"Not particularly," Erik replied. "I was a smith about a month ago."
"Great," the bandit rolled his eyes as he drew his great sword. "I can take one of its legs—the mouth is a weak spot. Goin' for the eyes can stun it—but not for long. We gotta make this quick, or we all die."
"Understood," Erik nodded as he drew his sword.
"Ready?" The bandit asked.
"As I'll ever be," Erik replied, looking to M'rissi, who'd already drawn her bow and nocked an arrow.
The bandit made a motion, and Erik jumped around the corner, rushing the spider.
M'rissi followed his lead, popping from the cover and sending an arrow into one of the monster's eyes. It lets out a squeal of pain as Erik nears and slides his sword through the fangs and in to its wretched maw. It gurgles, and Erik uses every bit of his strength to lift the creature up and onto its back with a thud that shook the ground.
"Now!" Erik exclaimed, using his shield to block a leg from piercing his side.
The bandit sprinted after Erik and slid his great-sword into the spider's enormous thorax. It let out another squeal, then its legs curled into itself as the life left it.
"And you said you weren't good with that sword," the bandit scoffed and patted Erik on the shoulder as he pulled his greatsword from the spider's body.
His smirk fell as he looked up, though.
Erik followed his gaze to see a man tangled in webs. He looked like a dark elf, but his skin was so shriveled that he couldn't tell.
"I guess that explains where the boss has been," the man sighed and used his sword to cut the elf down. "Damn fool must'ah gotten caught in the web and sucked dry."
As he moved him, the bandit dug through the bag that hung around the elf's shoulders and pulled out a leatherbound journal, and an ornate gold claw with the images of a bear, a moth and an owl carved into the paw. It reminded him of the sapphire claw that Wilhelm tried to give him back in Ivarstead.
"That claw, where did you find it?" Erik asked.
"It was in the barrows, I believe," the bandit replied. "Why?"
"No reason," Erik replied as he pulled his sword from the spider, sheathed it, and motioned for M'rissi to follow. "So, your boss is dead—what now?"
"I'll get to it whenever I get to it," the bandit replied and pushed through the remaining webbing, breaking through to a hallway. "This is where the Draugr start. I hope you don't mind killing the undead."
"Not at all. We need this slab."
"Why do you need this stone anyways? What does a court mage need with an old map of Skyrim?"
"It's not just a map. It's a map of every dragon burial site in Skyrim. He has a theory that the dragon that destroyed Helgen and attacked Riverwood Alduin the World-Eater."
"Alduin—the bloody black Dragon that passed overhead the other day—that was Alduin?"
"It's looking as if it were, yes. Not sure what the mage plans to do with the information—I don't really care what he does. My only concern is M—my partner's safety."
"Right. I thought you were keeping that cat with you for kicks. I guess you just like fucking animals and thieves."
"Watch it, Bandit," Erik glared at the man. "I can still kill you and take my gold back."
"You wouldn't," the bandit grinned. "You know that wouldn't be an honorable fight."
"You have a weapon in your hand. It's honorable enough. Trust me, it's better than what she'd do to you."
"Her fangs are sharp, and her claws are sharper. She does not want to kill you, but she will do so with no hesitation if you threaten Erik's life," M'rissi growled, stepping to Erik's side and glaring at the man beside him with her glowing orange eyes. "She does not hold such ideals of honor. She will not care about an honorable fight."
"Damn cat," the bandit hissed under his breath.
The three of them continued through the barrows, being careful not to disturb the Draugr, until they found a new obstacle.
The light from the bandits torch lit a narrow hallway that had blades that swung back and forth on occasion.
"Shit—your crew ever get this far?" Erik asked.
"This is what was stopping us from going further," the bandit replied with a scowl, glaring down at the floor, down at puddles of dried blood. "A lot of friends died trying to get through here."
"Sorry to hear that. Not sure how we're going to get through that though."
"She could try to—"
"No," Erik cut M'rissi off with a stern glare. "I'm not risking your life like that."
"And you think she will let you risk yours in the same way?" M'rissi raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. "M'rissi is quick and agile."
"I don't care. It only takes a cut. Those blades are coated in diseased blood."
"She won't be harmed," M'rissi replied with a smirk, and before he could stop her, she dashed into the hallway.
Erik watched in panicked horror as she slipped past the first two axes, then paused at the third, trapped in a deathtrap.
Her name creeped up his throat, it hung at the tip of his tongue, but he stopped himself. If he distracted her, she would most certainly die.
Damn it woman.
Erik let out a breath of relief as she slipped past the last two axes with ease and pulled a chain on the other side—seconds later, the axes stopped swinging, held back, hidden in the walls.
"Damn it, M'rissi," Erik gasped, remembering to breathe after what felt like forever. "Do you know how dangerous that was!"
"You went into a tomb all by yourself and got into a fight with a mage in Ivarstead. M'rissi does not want to hear about dangerous!"
"That was different! I knew I had an advantage—"
"And so did she," M'rissi replied, crossing her arms. "M'rissi is not some defenseless maiden in need of help, Erik! She can fight. M'rissi can fend for herself! This is not her first tomb. How do you think she survived for so long in a place so cold and dangerous to Khajiit?"
Erik gave a sigh as he walked through the hallway and pulled M'rissi into a tight hug.
"I don't think you're defenseless. I just—I've lost enough. I don't think I could handle watching you die too," he whispered into her ear as he ran his hand through her hair. "But—you're right—you can handle yourself just fine without me. Just don't take a risk if you don't think you can do it, alright?"
"M'rissi won't," she replied as she looked up to him and planted a kiss on his lips. "She won't make you worry again."
"If you two are done, we need to keep going," the bandit cut in as he brushed passed them.
Now Erik heard the sounds of restless Draugr in the next chamber. There wasn't any sneaking past these undead.
Maybe I can talk to them like before?
Erik held onto the hug a little longer, kissing M'rissi's head before pulling away and stepped to the bandit's side.
"Sheath your weapon. If they see you as a threat, they'll attack on sight. If we can get through without pissing them off, we have a better chance of getting out of these barrows alive."
"I don't think they'll care very much."
"Just do it, damn it," Erik demanded as he sheathed his weapon. The bandit shook his head and holstered his weapon.
Erik gave a deep sigh and followed the corridor to a large room. The distinct glowing, blue eyes of the Draugr moved in staggered motions. The moment the Nord stepped into the room, they all turned towards him.
"Joor, lif nu, uv dir!" (Mortal, leave now, or die!)
One Draugr started towards Erik, and he heard the familiar sound of metal against leather—it had unsheathed a weapon.
Erik focused for a moment—now the undead was right in front of him. Its dried, leathery face illuminated by the light of the torch.
"I'm sorry, but we can't leave just yet. Let us pass, and we will leave you in peace—"
Erik spoke, slow and calm, but the undead didn't let him finish.
It drew the iron sword that sat on its hip, but before the Draugr could make a swing, Erik bashed the undead monster with his shield and drew his own sword.
"Can't say I didn't try," he shrugged as an arrow flew past his head from behind. In front of him, a pair of eyes fell and faded. "M'rissi, what the fu—"
"Would you rather be shot with an arrow by the undead? No? Then M'rissi will use her bow."
"You could have shot me!"
"She is not so dull with a bow," M'rissi said with an annoyed tone. Another arrow flew past Erik's head, making him flinch as another pair of eyes hit the ground and faded into darkness.
"Your cat has a point, I'd rather not die in this damn tomb!" The bandit said as he grasped his great sword and brought the blade down on the Draugr that confronted Erik, putting his torch in the holder to his side. "How many are in this room?"
"Five that are alive," M'rissi replied as Erik readied himself for an attack from any angle. "They seem to be waiting. She does not like this, Erik. M'rissi believes there may be a trap in this room. We should not move."
"I agree, if they're not coming forward, they know something we don't," Erik said. "What the hell do we do?"
"Stay where we are. They'll come to us at some point," the bandit said.
"She thinks we can move forward—if we are cautious. She sees a log tied to the ceiling. It has a rope that comes down to the floor against the wall—there is most certainly a trap—"
The sound of an arrow landing echoed throughout the chamber—then a new, more terrifying sound.
"Erik, get down!" M'rissi shouted.
He only had enough time to raise his shield before he felt something solid and heavy slam against it and fling him back.
A sharp pain shot through his arm as he slammed into the back of the hallway, close to the entrance of the deathtrap that M'rissi slipped past. Now the pain was in his back—his sides—it was everywhere. It was intense, too intense.
"Erik!" M'rissi's voice sounded distant as he lost consciousness.