Young Mimzi cradled in the freezing cold room till dawn light peaked over Dawnstar. Her eyes stayed fixated on the crack in the wall across from her— eyes barely blinking. The girl was bushed from the long night spent shivering in the cold downstairs of the orphanage, and the coursing fear from whatever had been lurking in the crack of the foundation wall drained her senses. She could hear the mistress barking orders at the children upstairs— likely to get up and make their beds, eat a speck of breakfast before doing a long list of chores. Suddenly, the tapping of her footsteps treaded downstairs. It beckoned to the steel doors and the tinkling of a key rattled in the lock. Mimzi sat up straight— her swollen, red eyes gawked to the door. Her demeanour began to shiver. The doors metal hinges cried as it swung open, the mistress stood glaring in the doorway with her hands held to the front of her waist. Mimzi whimpered as she squeezed her knees up to her chest, cradling tightly.
"Mimzi… I hope your night spent here has taught you the obedience I expect from you…" the mistress said.
The girl shivered and muttered through chattering teeth, "yes, ma'am. I'm sorry. Can I leave now?"
"Yes," affirmed the mistress, "you may join your peers with the household chores. I will need you to go with Luna to retrieve filled buckets of fresh drinking water from the well across town. When you get back, I expect the two of you to care for Hella and clean the hall while I'm in my quarters."
Mimzi slowly stood up from the cold hard floor. The mistress stepped to the side— against the door, keeping it ajar for her to leave. Mimzi's small feet slowly shuffled to the doorway as her eye's kept to the mistress's. As she passed, she felt a cold shiver down her arm— the very air off the woman was malignant. Mimzi jolted when the mistress gripped her fingers over her shoulder, the mistress's tone went cold.
"You will do as I say without interruption. Or this room will be your home," the mistress nudged Mimzi passed the doorway, and she scurried upstairs. The main floor she was met with Jesper and Alaster wiping away the cobwebs in the window ledges. They both flinched to see her standing before them after what had transpired the night before when she came back to the hall.
Jesper muttered, "…you're back."
Alaster sneered, "…you're starting to go down there so much, figured she'd leave you in there this time."
Mimzi held an aloof gaze as she said grudgingly, "…next time she will. I'm not giving her a next time."
Without pause she paced to her cloak and coat and left out the doors to Dawnstar. The air was thin and freezing as the usual brooding weather of The Pale, she crunched her feet down over the snow caked to the steps. Her gaze was set to the harbour, to the boat of sailors just docked last night from Hammerfell. The shipmen were engrossed in labour as they passed one another carrying buckets, moping the deck and loading goods. Her company was meant to be there on that boat. Mimzi wasn't certain she'd be allowed to set sail with the crew or if they would even acknowledge her inquiry. She knew for certain, however— this was the last night she was spending in Dawnstar.
"Mimzi… Mimzi! What are you looking at?" A familiar little voice bellowed behind her. Mimzi turned her attention behind to see Luna carrying two large pails in each hand, her stare riddled in concern. Luna ambled towards her— the pails rattled, "…you should take a bucket before the mistress sees you standing around. I don't want you to get in trouble again."
Mimzi stayed paused before she slowly held her hand open for one of the pails. Luna reached the handle out to her, and she grasped it— angrily resting it to her side causing it to clank back and forth. Mimzi scowled, "…she's so lazy she has to get kids ten winter's old to do her chores for her."
Luna hissed, "…shut up! What if she heard you? I just said I don't want you to get in trouble again!"
"I don't even care anymore," sighed Mimzi, "…whatever she'd do can't be worse than living here."
Mimzi and Luna walked casually to the well up the hill across town, close to Iron-Breaker mine. Luna's warm and amber eyes began to swell with tears as the realization set in, "…you're gonna' leave, aren't you?"
"Yes, as soon as I can," glowered Mimzi.
"How? Where else could you go? No one in Skyrim wants to adopt us, we're too old now. Only Hella has a chance of getting adopted, she's a cute baby. Everyone loves babies. No one likes kids our age. Out in the world you'll be alone and scared and hungry and cold. They'll treat you like a stinky old dog, Mimzi," Luna's voice grew more frantic and pitched as she ranted.
"I don't care about getting adopted, Luna!" Mimzi said back to her friend, "…grown-ups are jerks, that's not news. I'm not waiting around to get hurt or locked up by one anymore. Remember last week she hit me in the eye and poured cold water on me in front of all of you? All because I ate half a sweet roll I wasn't supposed to. I had a poofy eye for days. No one did anything. And for all the other times I had a broken arm, cut to my forehead and limp after she slammed my foot in the steel door— no one ever did anything. Now I'm doing something."
Luna scoffed, "…oh yeah, like what?"
Mimzi set her pail down and stopped in the packed snow, her gaze to Luna, "I'm getting on that boat tonight. Whether they take me or if I have to hide in one of those barrels on board, I'm leaving."
"Are you crazy?!" Luna gasped.
"Yeah, I am, and it's about time, too. I've been scared for five years ever since that hag took over the hall, I've been so scared of everything. All the time. This morning I finally realized I'm done being scared. You should be too! Come with me," exclaimed Mimzi, a smile that had been dormant for years formed.
"No! No. I can't leave Hella in this place by herself. And you shouldn't be leaving me here by myself, you're all I have besides Hella, you're my bestest friend in all of Nirn. But…" Luna stammered as tears rolled down her cold air—kissed cheeks, "…but I can't watch you suffer anymore. The hag tortures all of us but I think she mostly tortures you. Probably because you're the only one of us who still gives her trouble…"
"Luna don't cry…" Mimzi whimpered, her eyes swelled with tears.
"I shouldn't get mad that you wanna leave. But I'm not sure how I'm gonna live here without you. You play with me, stand up for me. The boys are three years older than us and are complete jerks. You're not gonna be here to put… skeever poop in Alaster's oats, anymore," Luna began to giggle through her tears as Mimzi joined in.
"He almost ate it too! Taught him to stop tugging your braids," Mimzi guffawed, her childish grin beaming. Both the girls chortled and snorted as their laughs grew together. Luna lunged at Mimzi with an embrace, gripping her small arms tight around her back.
"Wherever you go, just remember me, okay? Wherever it is you go, please love to live again, even if it's hard. Okay?" Luna wept into Mimzi's shoulder, her cry shaky and doleful.
"I promise," Mimzi's little voice quaked as a stray tear fell down her cheek. The two girls retrieved what water from the well they could carry in their pails and hauled them back to the orphanage through thick snow and harsh winds. Despite the abominable weather, the two girls shared laughs their whole way back to the somber hall.
Inside, the young boys had finished their chores of the day but were still instructed to wash the linens downstairs. Baby Hella sat cold and alone, shivering and distraught in her crib. Luna gasped as she hastily put her pail of water down to the floor and ran to Hella. She cradled the baby in her arms, wrapping her shawl over the chilled infant. Luna adorned the baby in soft kisses to the forehead, rocking her gently and holding her tight. The love the two shared for each other was as a mother would cherish her own baby— but young Luna had been forced to raise Hella, as the mistress never would.
"That witch…" Luna hissed to Mimzi, whose eyes stayed worrisome.
"She left the baby alone, has the baby even been fed?" Mimzi asked in disgust.
"Probably not, here, can you take her for a while? I'm gonna ask Karita's pa if he can give us a flagon of milk again," Luna gently settled Hella into Mimzi's arms, who kissed her on the cheek and gently swayed the baby— Hella cooing and grasping at Mimzi's long hair strands— happy to be with the girls that tended to her again.
Luna reached for her knapsack under her bed and swung it over her shoulder, she donned her cloak and pulled the hood over her black and braided hair. As Luna went to approach the door, Hella began to whimper and cry to see her leaving again. Luna whipped back around at the sound of the sobbing baby, but the knapsack flung to the side, hitting a nearby bookshelf. The shelf was flimsy and made of splintering wood. The shelves inside rattled and dust flew as an urn dipped off the shelf edge and shattered to the floor. Inside the urn, ash gently spread through the floorboards as it began to recede out and onto the ground. Mimzi and Luna stayed frozen to the sight of it. Both their expressions equally mortified of what had just occurred. For they knew it was no simple matter of the shore sands or ash from an old fire inside that urn. It was ash from a pyre for an Imperial Legate— the mistress's father long passed. The urn shattering made a violent crash as it collided with the floor. The bare walls of the orphanage intensified every sound within the main hall. A clutter of noise and sharp shrill was heard from the mistress's quarters to the back of Whiffet Hall.
"Mimzi! That better not have been my urn, you dreadful, horrible, spoiled little witch!"
Mimzi awoke to the screaming winds howling from outside. Her head walloped, and leg seared in pain with her skin chilled to the touch. Her eyes had not yet opened but her mind was conscious. Her fingers caressed the hard stone floor she lay upon and her eyes slowly pried open to the sight of a vast cavern ceiling. Massive gaps offered scarce light in the stone ceiling. Powdered snow was sweeping in through these cracks allowing a frigid wind to come whistling into the cave. A small fire cackled close to her only giving limited warmth but the cave itself was as cold as an ice wraith's breath. The cave was lit dimly by the white from outside, hiding small areas in pitch black. Her vision stayed hazed as she glazed over the ancient Nordic carvings through the walls and pillars. The smell of stale rot and decay lingered leaving Mimzi sickly to her stomach as she came to.
Two figures came pacing in through an entry way to where Mimzi laid, her eyes closed tightly, and she tried to slow her breathing. The first figure, a man with a familiar tone groaned as he stoked the fire, "Arvel is probably face down in the dust by now. One of them dustmen pierced his heart with an ancient blade. Stealing that claw was a waste of time."
"This standing around is a waste of time," a female voice spoke up as her figure sat by the fire, her hands out for the warmth, "We should be delving deeper into this crypt with the rest, but we get saddled watching the entrance, what a waste, indeed. Half of those idiots don't even know how to survive a Nordic tomb."
"Who knows? Maybe the gray skin will come limping back with the treasure? If he does, we have a means to celebrate now, well… you can watch if you want," the man chortled deviantly, "…surprised she hasn't woken up yet. Lucky find, huh? She's a pretty little doll. The boys and I will have some fun with her tonight."
"You're a disgusting pig. Probably some damsel from Riverwood, what makes you think her hulking Nord father won't come looking for her?" The woman sneered.
"What daddy let's his little girl wander off to get eaten by wolves? She's a stray. No one is gonna come looking for her" the man stated in sureness of himself.
Mimzi's blood began to rush as her heart sped faster. The cave was lit only where she laid by the campfire. The streaks of outside rays from the roof of the cave illuminated just above, but there were small areas without light. Each pocket of darkness an element of the void. Mimzi knew with a certainty if she could crawl away without the two bandits noticing her, she could disappear into one of these darkened crevices.
"We've been here for days it feels like… I don't know if there is any use to this," the female bandit shrugged.
"So why not just leave then? I like the tomb. Might live here for a while. No draugr have come up our corner of the tomb yet. So much for Bleak Falls Barrow's haunting reputation… but gods… does it ever reek in here," the male bandit grumbled. Mimzi could feel his gaze go to her again, his voice went low and gruff "…nothing the warm body of a lady can't fix."
"Mara's mercy, I'll check on those ice-brains outside just so you can have a few minutes with the wench… I'm sure you'll only be a few minutes anyway…" the female bandit smirked, standing up abruptly, donning her cloak.
Her footsteps echoed through the cave as she lit her way with torch light to the colossal iron doors leading out of the tomb. Mimzi knew if she didn't do something fast, she'd wish she were dead. Her confidence remained shrivelled to the point she couldn't move. She wasn't able to move an inch without her own voice reminding her that she would fail if she tried to run.
The iron gates opened thrusting through cold, blistering air from the outside as the female bandit slammed them shut behind her— creating a clank that echoed through the ancient walls. The male bandit crept off the floor, silent and unknowing of Mimzi's alertness. He began to rustle his scabbard off his waist and removed his quiver before untying the girdle along the waist of his pants made in animal skins. The man's figure was only a black shadow to Mimzi as he stood in front of the campfire. He slowly ambled closer to her— his hands over the strap of his trousers. She opened her eyes wide to the man standing over her, his gaze lit with a perverted grin.
"You're awake now. Good. It's so much better when they're awake," he stated in a low tone, "…just don't fight me, dear. You may even enjoy it, too."
Mimzi breathed heavily through her nose as her horrified eyes swelled in tears— her mouth pressed together as slow, burning rage took over. She had lived her life being trodded on by others less deserving. She left Skyrim only to come back to the same thing. The boat lingering on the Dawnstar harbour flickered before her eyes. The soft spray of the ocean she could almost feel on her face again. She had not come back home to be a prisoner once more. She was free. There was no one left to fight for her freedom, just herself.
Mimzi lunged to her left side and bolted back on her two feet. The searing pain of her right thigh was immediately crippling. Her leg gave out before she even had a chance to grit through the pain and run. She stumbled, allowing the bandit to grab her by the leg and back of her belt. He pulled her back against him with mere effort almost like picking up a small child. His vein-protruding forearms held firmly against the bottom of her chin. His hot breath against her right ear made Mimzi's skin crawl. She strained and grunted as she pulsed every muscle to escape his grasp. Every attempt to pull away, scratch and kick was in vain. The bandit was far stronger than she was and had her in his grasp.
"Oh, how I like them with a little fire," he leered in her ear, the sharp hairs on his face poking into her cheek. His breath reeked of ale and his body of sweat. His hand clasped the top of Mimzi's blouse and ripped only partly. He hunched over Mimzi, his body weight resting on her back. She screamed but the hold of his arm gripped her neck, causing her to hack.
"Ah! Get… OFF ME!! You son of a… bitch!" Her grunts turned to screams. Mimzi was now pinned by the man. He pulled his trousers down and he pried her belt off. Her hands tried to rip his own away but every attempt she made he tightened his arm over her neck. The agony of her open wound in her thigh pulsed as hot blood erupted through a clot. To break free from this man with no strength to overcome him and her injury was futile. The thought of giving her body willingly to the perverse bandit was like giving herself to a sandstorm in the Scorch. There was no worse fate than what she was to endure. Mimzi would rather die.
One last stroke of rage flooded her as his hands went to the waist of her pants. She cried a blood curdling shrill— her hand threw to the side of her head and dug her nails into the man's eye. He yelped as he flew back to the ground cradling his eye, releasing Mimzi to the ground. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, she huffed and quickly crawled into the darkness, crawling amongst the jagged ruins of the cavern.
"You stupid whore!" The bandit squealed, writhing on the cavern floor. Mimzi's fingers dripped with the man's blood from his eye. It wasn't until now she realized how deep she dug her nails into his socket. Mimzi shrouded her panting into her arm, she crept her stomach to the dusty floor of the cave and winced at the pain in her thigh. Her cold fingertips were soon coated in the blood erupting from the wolf's bite as she applied pressure to stop the bleeding.
The bandit shot up from the floor, releasing his eye— still spewing with blood. He pulled his trousers up while seething and gripped his sword. He growled out to the dark spots of the cave to where Mimzi had fled, "…you can't hide here! I'll find you, stupid cow. Maybe I would have let you live. But now I'm gonna marvel to watch you suffer and die!"
The bandit lit a torch with the campfire and carried it deeper into the darkness. Mimzi scuffled herself backwards to avoid being revealed by the torch light. The stone began to grind against her open wound making her teeth clench. Every fibre in her body wanted to cry in agony from the fire of the pain. She convulsed it down to her core as she continued to grip herself back.
"I've still got one eye! I'll find and gut you, bitch!" The bandit neared Mimzi's spot. She scuffled back more, her agility depleting as the pain began to meet its threshold. Her right foot thunked and pushed back a hard wooden object. Mimzi didn't look behind her to see what it was but to her dismay— the object was long in length, large and top-heavy. It rattled on the stone floor catching the bandit's attention immediately. Suddenly, something large and long fell adjacent to Mimzi's side. She turned her head and to her horror saw the remains of a rotted, embalmed human corpse, its eyes pearlescent and vacant. The flesh preserved but decayed where only strands of dried hide clung to the skull, and wisps of grey hair entwined like spider webbing. Mimzi yelped— throwing herself back from the body. It reeked of the stench that had been lingering in the cavern her whole time of being trapped there, but face to face with the corpse amplified the smell. Her fear of the body caused her to fly back and reveal herself in the light of the bandit's torch.
"And there you are, made it easy for me. Should have done that from the start and I had let you live…"
He trudged his way into the jagged rocks towards Mimzi, who crawled back to the wall as he drew nearer. Her fear-stricken eyes began to fall with desperate tears as the bandit's blade was soon to meet her belly. She gasped and ached as her back met the far stone wall of the cavern.
Then a ragged, unnatural gasp wheezed from the floor. It's breathing gurgled and raucous. Mimzi and the bandit both gawked at the dreaded noise emitting from the embalmed corpse. Her skin shifted at the sight of the body reanimating itself, slowly cracking its ancient bones from the floor of the tomb. It towered over the bandit with a rusted axe in its skeletal claw. The wheezing turned to a guttural hiss as it approached the bandit with glaring white eyes. The outlaw stumbled backwards to the rocks, his sword falling into the cracks in between the crumbled stonework. His eyes stayed in horror, slight whimpers escaping his shivering pout. The corpse slowly shuffled itself to the bandit, its gaze unmoving and seemingly unaware of Mimzi's presence, who stayed stuck to the walls of the cavern mortified of what she was experiencing.
"No… no, please," the bandit cowered, his right arm held high to the undead.
"Dir nu, nikriin," the corpse spoke in a low croak before swinging its axe atop the bandit, landing a chop to his head, splitting his skull.
Mimzi covered her mouth to stop herself from releasing a scream. It was the very thing Ralof had spoken of on their journey to Riverwood, overlooking Bleak Falls Barrow. It was a draugr. Reanimated from death, to serve its masters in life. The bandit's lifeless frame thudded to the ground. Too petrified to move, Mimzi stayed clasping the wall. She watched as the draugr cracked its decaying arm to release the axe from the bandit's scalp. The release made a squelching crunch noise from the flesh and blood emerging from the face of the bandit's wound. The draugr's breathing rattled while it glared down at the body. It's white eyes then paced around the cavern with its teeth bared. Mimzi was still shrouded in shadow, but she couldn't help but fear if the draugr had already known where she was. She slowly began to creep against the wall of the cave to her left. The adrenaline coursing in her was keeping the pain from her thigh at bay, but it still convulsed blood and if she didn't wrap it soon, she could bleed out.
The draugr drifted towards the fire of where the bandits had stationed their camp. It aggressively shot an ice blast from its hands using arcane magic, ceasing the fire to a sizzle. The light from the fire gone then shrouded the cave in reaching darkness than it already was. Mimzi could barely see anything before her eyes except the dim glimmer from the rays piercing into the cave from the roof, and the glow of torch light in through a tunnel across the cave close to where the draugr stood over the extinguished fire.
If she left out the front gates of Bleak Falls Barrow, she'd be met with multiple bandits, probably all armed. If she ventured through the tomb, she would have to pass the draugr and likely unknown dangers further on through the cave. Mimzi crept over the jagged ruins towards the deceased bandit. She could see the shine of his iron sword sticking out from the cracks of the stone floor. She gently gripped the hilt and lifted it up at level to avoid any clanging to alert the draugr only a few feet away from her. It continued to scuffle in darkness and then wander back towards her aimlessly. Mimzi stayed completely still, even holding her breath to not alert it.
The gates of the tomb then opened again with a giant crash of metal as multiple voices could be heard coming into the cave. The draugr growled while having its axe at the ready as the voices clamoured louder. The gates closed with torch light beckoning into the cave from the bandits. Mimzi shuffled back into shadows to avoid the light.
"You better be finished, you bastard. I want my turn with the tramp, you hear me?" Another man's voice from the doors bellowed into the cave.
"For the last time, you frustrated oafs! We are getting our gear, and we are going back…" the familiar female bandit blurted until she stopped abruptly at the sight of two insidious glowing white eyes towered ahead of their path. The draugr lifted its hand towards the criminals with flecks of arcane ice beginning to spark at its fingertips.
"Ye gods…" The female bandit dreaded, "it's a draugr…"
The draugr threw splintering frost from its claw as it made a guttural bark, "Faas oblaan, sahlo joor!"
The bandits yelped in fear as they were blasted with the spell from the ancient draugr. They clamoured for their weapons but were met with a quick demise as the draugr ceased its magic and slashed its axe across the neck of the female bandit, and ferociously sliced the other's head and reamed its axe into the remaining bandit's chest. It was over so fast it barely happened. The draugr was a quipped warrior plucked from its afterlife to spend the rest of eternity as a shuffling skeleton and protect the tomb.
Mimzi scurried her way past a ruined pillar and the extinguished fire. To the side of her eye, she saw a chest in the dark by the camp. It became almost a certainty that the bandits were keeping her belongings in that chest. As the draugr examined its fallen victims, Mimzi snuck her way and knelt down to the chest.
The chest was unlocked but before she could even crack it open, she knew the hinges would squeak. The view was almost completely black as she moved her hands to each hinge of the chest, holding it firm. She pressed the hinges in to keep from the jarring noise to alert the draugr as she gently lifted the lid open. She could not see what was inside but felt around with her hand and could feel immediately her knapsack. She carefully took her belongings. She wrapped the knapsack up over her head and shoulder and strapped the scabbard back to her waist. She slowly slid the sword into it. Inside the knapsack were still the healing potions and food from Riverwood. Her thigh still bled. She carefully twisted the cork off the top of one potion and gulped it down. The taste was like stale ale and flowers. Nothing of what she thought it would be like. The ailment sent a warming sensation through her throat and down to her thigh specifically. The constant pain within her leg felt the slightest relief. As the ailment coursed, its relief grew greater. She was able to put pressure on the leg without the debilitating pain. She slowly closed the lid of the chest but in doing so she looked back to see the draugr was no longer lurking from across the cave and was out of sight.
"Zu'u koraav hi ahrk hin grahmindol, dovahkiin!" the guttural bellow of the draugr's tongue yelled in echo through the cave, alerting Mimzi back to her feet. It remained in complete shroud; she was unable to spot it through the washed darkness.
Suddenly blasts of frost were heard to Mimzi's left, causing her to duck and flee down into the torch lit tunnel. As it beckoned after her, it roared "Fah zu'u lost grahmindol wah kron hi!"
It swung its axe down the tunnel towards Mimzi's back, but her speed outran the weapon and it clanged against the stone walls. The draugr released a battle cry only heard in the darkest of nightmares. Mimzi ripped her sword from her sheath and swiped it before the approaching draugr.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
The draugr laughed in a taunt as Mimzi pointed her sword, jittering in place with her blue eyes gaping at the monster before her. Her feet spaced and hips ready to swing, she was ready to fight for freedom. 'No more running' Mimzi thought, her fear intrusively begging to flee, 'I'm done being scared.'
"Hi lost ahkrin, dovahkiin," the draugr rattled its bones before her. Its grimly exposed teeth and jaw chattered as it spoke. It was now disarmed and approaching her slowly. Every shift of its feet made an unpleasant crunch from within the draugr's withered body. Mimzi didn't falter as the creature came closer. It raised its hand to her as the white flecks of frost began to grow in the shredded webbing of its palm.
With a ferocious cry, Mimzi flung her sword at the hand of the draugr, and cut it clean off. It roared and grasped the end of its severed arm before it lunged to her enraged. Mimzi ducked and shot up with her sword directed into the draugr's chest. It bellowed a guttural scream and the white in its eyes flickered then returned to a pale grey. The monster's body sunk into the sword and fell forward over Mimzi. She scrambled on the ground and panicked, ripping her legs out from under the reeking remains. Mimzi pushed herself up against the walls of the tomb's tunnels and violently kicked the draugr over to its back. Her heart felt like it was going to beat straight out of her chest. Her lips began to numb and fingertips tingle. Mimzi gaped wide at the draugr she slew before her eyes. Unable to come to terms with what had transpired in the small moments leading up to its ultimate death.
She slowly gathered herself back to her feet as her breathing tore at her lungs. She gripped the hilt of the sword protruding from the fallen draugr's chest and pulled. It was a lot easier to retrieve her sword from the embalmed corpse then it was to retrieve her axe from the stump outside of Riverwood. She sheathed it back into her scabbard and walked over its corpse.
Suddenly Mimzi heard the distant rambling of a man deeper into the tunnels. His voice was panicked with repelled screams. She ventured deeper into the vast tomb tunnels in order to find the source of the noise. She went ahead into a ruined crypt room with a Nordic puzzle that had already been completed to gain entry deeper into the tomb.
The air inside the cave became thin as she delved deeper into the mountain. As she progressed, webbing coated the Nordic carvings and craftsmanship adorned in the tomb. The shrills grew louder now.
"Is that you Harknir? Bjorn? Soling?"
As Mimzi carried on, the spider webbing grew vast and thick. It sprawled over almost every inch of stonework. Her boots started to stick to the floor from residue webbing against the stone ground.
"I know I ran off with the claw, but I need help!"
The pleading voice was just in the next room passed a webbed doorway. Mimzi slashed the sword through the webbing, but the webbing was strong and thick. The blade resisted against the sticking strands. The muscles in her upper arms began to ache as she persisted against the webbing and continued to slash. She wiped her blade clean with her sleeve of the clinging webs and slashed again allowing for a narrow opening through. The strands stuck to her clothes and to her hair as she passed through to an open chamber. It was completely coated in spider webbing and bursted egg sacks sprawled along the walls. Across from her was another doorway blocked by spider webs— entwining a dark elf in hide armour. He was still alert and pallor, his wide eyes met Mimzi's.
"Who are you?" The dark elf man asked, "…never mind actually, just cut me down! Please! Quickly before it comes back!"
"Before what comes back?"
"Above you! It's here!! AAGGH!" The dark elf's gaze went to the ceiling of the chamber. Mimzi looked up and gawked at the sight of a giant frostbite spider sprawling from the ceiling from its web. It's gigantic mandible gnawing as its eight legs clasped the floor.
"Kill it! KILL IT!!" The dark elf squealed as he thrashed in his binding webs.
The giant spider screeched as it came towards Mimzi. She quickly threw her sword in front of the monster's maw— slashing its chelicera. It flew back at response of the pain, nuzzling its injury against its front limbs. Mimzi shook but persisted throwing her sword. The spider screeched again and pushed her back with its front legs, knocking her to the floor and her grasp of her sword released. It clanked away from her. Mimzi scrambled towards it until her left foot felt a sharp, searing pain and she was pulled away. She screamed in agony as the giant spider's razor-sharp chelicera dug into her left ankle bone. It thrashed her back towards itself and released. Its teeth then went for Mimzi's face, but she desperately clasped her hands to its fangs and pushed back with all her strength. The monster was far stronger than the frostbite spider she wrestled in Helgen's keep, and much larger. Mimzi pushed herself down from its maw using the chelicera as leverage to push her body down under its belly. It slipped and collided its mouth into the stone floor as Mimzi pried herself out from under the beast's belly and back to her feet. Her ankle burned when it planted to the floor, but her adrenaline flourished. A torch still lit laid at the foot of the webbed doorway with the trapped dark elf. She snatched it quickly before the spider turned its attention back to her, venom dripping bountiful from its chelicera.
"Gods! Don't let it kill me! Kill it now! Burn it!" The dark elf man cried behind Mimzi. She stuck the torch out to the monster which hissed and retreated from the flame. She inched closer to it, thrashing the torch at the beast.
"Back! Back!" Mimzi barked.
The spider chopped its fangs together but still scurried from the flame. Suddenly it let out a squelching roar and snatched the top of the torch with its fangs and threw it from Mimzi's clasp. The fire seared the spider's maw, but it endured the pain only to further at its prey. She thrashed her sword at it again, striking the hard shell of its head. The sword stuck deep into its shell, causing its blood to erupt from the wound. Mimzi lost grip of the hilt as the beast screamed and jumbled back into the wall, writhing in agony from the blade still punctured in its head. It fiddled its front legs at the sword but could not release the blade. As it continued to scream it slithered back from Mimzi, who was now disarmed and praying to the Nine it would not come to attack her again. It began to squeal louder until it thrashed and spun into the wall disoriented. Its squeals ceased and legs shuffled and twitched till it laid still and then succumbed to silence.
As it lay vanquished the chamber went quiet and still, till the only sounds were the echoes from the dark elf and her own heavy breathing. The pain inside Mimzi's ankle began to burn like it was over fire. It ached far worse than any puncture had before. Mimzi winced and leaned towards the wall, grasping at her ankle. Her hand touching the wound seared the surface. The spider's fangs had gone right through the leather of her boot. Yet, she knew if she let herself succumb to the injuries, she would never leave the tomb with her life. She persisted through the pain— doing her utmost to push the sensations to the back of her mind.
"Wow," gasped the dark elf, still entwined in the giant spider's webbing, "…you killed it, you actually killed it."
Mimzi sighed, catching her breath slowly with each inhale, "…yeah. I actually killed it."
"Thank you. Please, now cut me loose!" The dark elf pleaded.
"Were you one of those bandits?"
"What? No. Well… yes. But it's not as simple as it sounds. I'm more of a treasure hunter myself. But half of those idiots were just muscle. Not that any of them could survive this gods' forsaken tomb. That monster there nearly had me for dessert," the dark elf said, wrestling in his binds.
"A treasure hunter?" Mimzi cynically inquired.
"Yes! I swear. My name is Arvel. They call me Arvel the Swift. You cut me loose, I'll help us get out of here. I even have an artifact to make us richer than kings! We just need to get to the end of this tomb. You won't believe the power the Nords have buried here!"
Mimzi breathed out hoarsely, "I don't care about treasure, I just want to get out of this place alive. Can you help with that?"
Arvel smiled and nodded insistently, "Oh, of course, my dear! Of course, I can! Just cut me loose and I promise I will get you home!"
"Then no treasure then," she dourly claimed "I cut you loose, you're taking me out the front gates. First, you're going to talk to your friends out front to let me go. You bastards brought me here against my will you're going to make it right. Do you understand me?"
Arvel stammered and chuckled nervously, "…right, I see. I apologize for my colleagues; they are animals at the best of times. But I can assure you, the best way to exact vengeance on them is to take for yourself what they have been waiting for at this tomb for days! I can take you to the treasure."
Mimzi groaned, "I don't give a damn about treasure, elf. Did you not hear me?"
"You really want to get out of this tomb knowing your survived it with nothing to show for it? I have studied this tomb for months behind tomes. I know every puzzle, every trap, and every entry. There is a way out passed the last Nordic puzzle and I have the key to open it! We retrieve our treasure first and I will make sure you are safe, my lady. I can promise you this. I am not a man who lies."
Mimzi stayed silent as she weighed her options before her. She knew if she turned back now the bandits outside the tomb would surely overtake her again, and the only way to delve deeper towards the next way out was passed the dark elf trapped in webbing before her. Mimzi sighed at the ground and looked back at the dark elf, "…Okay" she muttered, "…but you better not be lying to me, or I will kill you."
"I promise you I am not. I know not to deceive my rescuer."
Mimzi limped back to the dead frostbite spider, its several eyes still open and staring vacantly. Approaching the monster was enough to make Mimzi's blood curdle, but she needed her sword back. She gripped the hilt and pulled up hard and fast, the skeleton shell of the spider's head cracked as the blade released. The sword was coated in the spider's foggy blood. She came back to Arvel and dug the sword into the front of the adhesive, fluffy webbing and sliced through, however, Arvel was still not loose enough to be free of the webs.
"My arms and legs! They are bound tightly, cut them loose!"
Mimzi dug the blade into the webbing holding the man's legs without going too deep to cut him. She pulled the blade down on each side and his legs kicked loose.
"Great! Now my arms!" he insisted.
She pressed the blade into the webbing under his left arm and pulled out, which was enough for him to pull his left arm free and wrestle his right arm loose. He stepped back from the webbing and revealed a devious smile.
"Thank you… little fool," laughed Arvel as he sprang his feet and sped into the tunnels further into the tomb. Mimzi's mouth fell and chased after him, but her injuries prevented her from running to speeds to catch up to the deceiving elf.
"You… bastard!"
"Good luck getting out of this tomb alive! I've got some treasure waiting for me! All for me! Hahahaha!" The dark elf's laugh began to echo through the Nordic tunnels as he outran Mimzi. She panted and struggled to catch up, but the pain was almost debilitating. She panted and whimpered from the pain and collapsed— venting out a frustrated cry.
"You dirty, lying, gray-skin!!"
She peeled her left boot off and the ache as the fibres moved against her injury. She examined the wound, which was creeping in blood and thickly curdled white puss. Internally was translucent fluid draining out the wound. The red swelling from the bite spread down to her toes and up her calf almost to her knee. The bite was recent but looked like it had already grown an infection, likely from venom in the frostbite spider's fangs. Mimzi ripped a piece of cloth from her left sleeve and wrapped the wound tightly— she gasped in pain and clenched her teeth while doing so as any sensation atop of the wound was agonizing. Sweat began to wet her upper lip and forehead as she tied the knot. She remembered the two potions left in her knapsack. She threw the bag off her shoulders and shuffled inside of it, grabbing out both potions. She uncorked both and gulped them down as quickly as she could. The warming sensation returned again but in deeper relief, gravitating towards her left ankle. Much like the soothing of a few bottles of mead. The wound from her ankle was not healed completely, nor was the wound in her thigh from the wolf bite, but it was healed enough to prevent the profuse bleeding and infection from growing— for a time.
"No! No! Aggghh!"
Arvel was heard screaming again deeper into the Nordic carved tunnels, and suddenly nothing at all. Mimzi quickly donned her boot and pressed herself off the floor of the cave pulling her knapsack over her shoulders again. As she tried to walk, the pain from her ankle was just partially burning as she stepped and applied pressure onto it.
Mimzi passed a tunnel strung in decaying banners, shelves holding oil and embalming tools. She entered another chamber lined with coffins and embalmed corpses in their own secluded shelves stacked alongside the tomb walls. She slowly crept passed the corpses— terrified any noise at all could disturb them from their eternal rest much like the draugr at the beginning of the tomb. She pressed on and passed two ancient carved pillars and discovered Arvel, slain and face-first onto the cobblestone floor. Mimzi stepped closer to his body to see he was stabbed through the chest, but his attacker was not in sight. In Arvel's hand he clasped a golden artifact. It shimmered gladly off the light from the lit torch flames off the walls. The closer Mimzi came to the artifact, she was able to distinguish its shape of a claw. It was carved in ancient Nordic scriptures and looked to be bigger than the elf's own hand. She knelt down and took it from Arvel's stiff clasp.
Up to the glare of torchlight she could see carvings of three animals into the claw's palm: a bear, moth and an owl. Mimzi couldn't help but ponder if this was the golden claw the Imperial's at the Riverwood Trader had lost.
'What's so special about this thing?' she thought to herself.
She stuffed the claw into her knapsack, it held some weight and stressed at her shoulders only a little. Mimzi walked over Arvel's corpse and carried on through another entry out of the current chamber. Suddenly the sound of dust shifting, and the familiar, dreadful sound of bones cracking and gurgled gasps came from behind her. Mimzi turned herself around to the sight of the embalmed corpses crawling out of their resting place. Mimzi had her blade at the ready, she planted her feet firmly to the floor— holding her blade up with both arms and over her shoulder. The draugr came in three, each wrapped in withering linen and eyes glowing white like the core of a fire. All three towered over her much like the stock of Nords, hardy and tall. However, Mimzi was a Nord not gifted with height or good stock. She was small and petite, now faced with fighting off three undead Nords each filled with an eternity of hate and restlessness from within these tomb walls. Out of the three, only one was armed with an ancient blade.
The draugr swung its blade at Mimzi, who quickly held her blade up to block the strike. The hit struck her blade and the immense blow caused Mimzi to stumble backwards; nearly losing her footing. The draugr laughed maliciously. The two other draugr cornered in on Mimzi, their teeth grinding together and bones splintering. Flesh barely covered the length of their bones from centuries of decay. The draugr swung its blade down over Mimzi. She dodged to the side towards the disarmed draugr and away from the strike and its blade cracked against carved stone. The disarmed draugr grabbed at Mimzi's throat, its rough, skeletal hands gripped and dug into her skin. Mimzi gasped before reaching her blade between herself and the draugr. She stabbed the sword into the draugr's head from under its decayed chin. She then ripped it out and quickly slipped out from his grasp as the monster fell to the ground. Mimzi rotated behind the draugr which turned to her and beckoned again, the armed draugr flourished at her with another strike. She dodged again and swatted at the draugr's blade hitting it away, stumbling the monster. The disarmed draugr was creeping up to Mimzi quickly, who was still circling around the two monsters desperately prying for an escape route. She looked past the beckoning draugrs hideous gaze and towards the tunnelled entryway where the swinging spiked door was held.
Then in a split second a swipe struck Mimzi's bicep, and searing hot pain followed. The draugr had swiped its blades' tip along Mimzi's upper arm, causing her to stumble back into the sarcophaguses. She yelped and a fiery rage burned within almost suddenly, taking over Mimzi's every impulse she roared and swiped her blade at the draugr with force. The draugr attempted to block but Mimzi repeatedly swiped, each strike with more power than before. She struck its blade again causing it to fall back to the floor and then slashed the other draugr's belly before leaping over the pressure plate and through the tunnel, avoiding triggering the trap. The draugrs behind followed but triggered the plate causing the wall to activate. The trap made a violent swing from the mechanism crashing into the draugr— the whole bodies of the monsters turned to dusty debris.
Without looking back to spectate, Mimzi hastened forward, her limp only slowed her speed as she raced through the tunnels. The tomb then ventured down a dim lit path and into another chamber lined in sarcophaguses. Mimzi knew she was in the deep of the tomb, where most of the ancient Nords had been embalmed and buried. Not even the bandits had managed to delve this deep into Bleak Falls Barrow. Her presence was disturbing centuries of dormancy creating restlessness now in the draugr. Two more draugr awoke from their coffin's and crept out into the chamber from Mimzi's presence. She whimpered in fear at the sound of more of the undead.
'I just have to keep running. Just keep running!' she thought, her heart felt as if it was in her throat.
The air in the thick stoned walls of the tomb was so scarce she could barely breathe. One of the draugr beckoned towards her again wielding a large, ancient Nordic battle axe. Its throw was slow as Mimzi leapt out of the way of its blade and it clanked against the hard stone, causing the draugr to stumble to its knees. Mimzi ran hastily to the tunnel out of the chamber but could not see the tripwire before her feet as she entered the adjoining entry way. The wire snapped under her leather boot and a swift swinging blade swiped behind her and another before her, just scarcely missing her nose. Mimzi screamed and stood still completely. Certain she moved another inch she would be sliced in half. The blades continued to swing in motion, fortunately preventing the draugr from beckoning her further, but unfortunately trapping her in the entry way. Mimzi stood stuck in between two swinging blades.
'Mey joor, hi nis filok dinok. Ha ha ha ha!"
The draugr stood before the blade but gloated to her predicament. Every swipe of the ancient blades was a small break in between the timed swipes. In one of these breaks the draugr protruded its blade into the entryway to stab Mimzi, who narrowly missed again and flew forwards to the other side to avoid the blade. The draugr jabbed its sword through the other side. Mimzi quickly responded and moved back to the left wall. There were two more swinging blades before her to reach the adjacent tunnel. The blades were not timed the same, but swung in different intervals. As the blade swung passed her she quickly crept passed it before it swung back. The third blade in front of her swung passed and she leapt through the entry way and into the tunnel. The draugr remained in the chamber behind her. One attempted to follow her through the swinging blades but was sliced in half by the first blade; the dust from its corpse went up in a cloud as its torso separated from its waist. The other two remained behind the swinging blades— their glowing white eyes fixated on Mimzi as she stared back with wheezing breath.
Through the tunnels were more sarcophaguses that lined the hand-carved stone walls. Mimzi quickly carried on through the crypt, stifling her limp to the best of her ability. Cold air whooshed into the tunnels against her. The cold air carried fallen snow through the passage. Mimzi was hopeful yet hesitant to think it were the way out. To her dread it was just an opening cave with running water through a stream and an enclosed sarcophagus. There was only one exit, but gate bars blocked the path. However, next to the entry was a pull chain. Mimzi pulled the chain, causing the gate bars to lift opening the way.
Suddenly the sarcophagus cracked open, the metal of the lid thudded loudly to the floor of the cave. Out of the sarcophagus crept another draugr, wielding an ancient axe and shield. Its ice-cold stare met Mimzi. The monster scurried at her with his axe in hand— ready to swing. Mimzi thrashed her blade but the draugr quickly blocked with its iron shield. The impact of her blade hitting the shield was a sudden stop in force causing Mimzi to lose grasp of her blade and fall back into the stream. The draugr then swiped their axe down to Mimzi but before it could puncture her skull she rolled out from under the strike. As she managed herself back to her feet the draugr bashed it's shield against Mimzi's side— causing her to fall to the jagged rock floor again. She ached from the blow, which sent a shattering pain through the right side of her ribs. The draugr stomped its ancient boot to Mimzi's back and held her down mercilessly. She wheezed and scraped on the ground but the pressure from the draugr restrained her to her stomach. As the monster lifted its axe to swipe at the back of Mimzi's neck, she pried for the hilt of her sword almost out of reach. As soon as she was able to clasp the hilt, she faced the blade behind her and swiped back with as much force as she could muster; severing the draugr's leg that weighed on her back. She rolled quickly out from the ground and back to her feet while the draugr fell into the streamline.
Mimzi gathered herself to her feet and ran through the neighbouring tunnel, not stopping to see if the one-legged draugr was crawling after her. Through the tunnel it carried a stream along the path. She waded through the freezing water which began to seep and pool into her boots. The tunnel took an immediate right down a burrow adorned in glowing mushrooms and rich vegetation. The air was cool and grew colder the more she expedited down the path. The further she went, the more widened the tunnel became. It then evolved into a large cavern with hanging moss and iron veins through the walls. Down the stream led to an opening with snow and ice over the soil. Above was the tempting light of outside. The sky was lit up in star light and glooming aurora. Mimzi's reddened eyes gawked up to the sky and studied the walls to see if there were an easier opening to get outside. The walls were slick with ice, and the formation of the grotto was steep and not accessible to climb. The only way out was forward, her prayers depended on it.
Past the opening were more tunnels completely blanketed by dark. As she continued further, dim light from torches glared on the path beyond. Deeper still adjoined the carved Nordic ruins again. The path took a right and led down to three doorways leading to the same chamber. However, only one door was accessible as the other two were generously gathering rooting limbs and hanging moss. The chamber was large and vacant, cluttered in crumbled debris from the aging tomb. It was cradled with four immense pillars, each hand crafted by the ancient Nords and two in each side of the chamber. At the far end was a large, wooden door. Mimzi trudged through the crumbled debris and pushed open the great doors which hinges squealed.
Inside was a sealed, roasting brazier fire, still lit after centuries of abandonment, and another entry way up ahead. Mimzi's hope was dwindling as the tomb went ever onward— unsure if she would find the exit or if the creatures that infested the tomb would allow her to leave with her life. It seemed like every tunnel had an even more vast tunnel attached, and rooms lurked with the unimaginable horrors that once ruled this tomb. She continued through the tunnel down a declining hill, till she reached yet another room. The middle of the floor was coated in oil. It shimmered purple and yellow off the dim light of the torch fire along the walls. The room held a second level with a staircase made of wooden logs entwined together to form a path up. Up on the second level shuffled three draugr, each of them armed with weapons such as an axe, sword and war hammer. Mimzi crouched down and back into the darkness before any of the undead could notice her presence. She observed them first, they shuffled aimlessly, almost without purpose. Their glowing white eyes simply scoured the walls of their tomb; studying the ancient carvings as if they were meditating to the meaning of the ancient craftsmanship. They spoke in an entirely different language Mimzi had never heard of. She had travelled both Cyrodiil and Elsweyr, and the tongue was unfamiliar in every culture she had experienced. Mimzi couldn't help but ponder what kind of intelligence they attained after death. Could they be reasoned with? Could they understand her lack for malice and that she was just lost and needed to find freedom? Or were they simply malicious, battle-hungry monsters? Driven to complete madness and void of all humanity from eras of spiritual restlessness.
Mimzi's gaze caught a canister hanging from a rope strung onto the roof of the chamber. It hovered over the sprawled oil. Inside the canister was a dim yellow glow from a flickering flame still lit. It was yet another trap. Set either from centuries ago, or possibly the draugr themselves. Perhaps the draugr did hold some intelligence yet, but not in any kind of empathetic understanding. Their only goal seemed to be to protect their tomb from intruders at all costs. Or possibly their hatred for mortal kind was so great they would await years for a hapless soul to wonder too deep into their crypt so they could hone the satisfaction of destroying them. Either way, Mimzi had no choice but to venture out of this tomb, and she intended to do so by any means. Even if it meant destroying the misunderstood draugr, whose goals may never be comprehended by mortal kind.
Mimzi studied the trap but there was no way to trigger it from her point of view. Mimzi crept into her knapsack again. Inside was the golden claw, three apples (soft and bruised) and a piece of crumbling bread. Mimzi pulled out two apples and wrapped her knapsack straps back over her shoulders. Fighting against all three of the armed draugr would be a death sentence. However, Mimzi's plan was both risky and possibly the only option she had left.
Mimzi stood up straight and took a few deep breaths before cracking her voice to yell, "Hey dust men!"
The draugr took attention immediately and growled, their weapons at the ready. All three clamoured down the staircase to the main floor towards Mimzi. She threw the first apple towards the hanging canister, but it flew passed only by inches. Panic flooded Mimzi, the draugr all reached the bottom floor and scrambled towards her, their feet atop the oil. Mimzi breathed out and threw the other apple at the canister; just grazing the bottom. It caused the canister to sway which was enough to trigger the trap and cause the canister to fall and break over the oil and before the three draugr. The flame caught the oil in a second and a sudden explosion erupted. The fire bursted causing urns, rocks and other debris to go flying out. Mimzi crouched down facing away from the eruption. The bones of the draugr caught fire like tinder, resulting them to smouldering ash before they could reach out the perimeter of the puddle of oil. Fire lingered to the spot and cackled the remains of the draugr. Black smoke began to cloud the room and fall to the floor of the chamber. The blast threw a shield before Mimzi's feet. Seeing the usefulness of having a shield to protect her from blows in a place like this; she picked it up and held it firm in her left hand. Mimzi quickly hastened passed the fire before it began to catch too quickly. She dashed up the logwood stairs and ventured down a hall then turned left. It was sectioned off by wooden planks and lined with altars. She turned left down a bridge over the chamber and down into a secluded room with another large, wooden door. Mimzi went through and it revealed a long, reaching dome hall. Every inch of the hall was handcrafted and carved in ancient nordic scriptures. Each wall carved in telling stories of fabled battles. The left side of the hall had three lit braziers that led down towards an arched stone door with four symbols. Mimzi inched carefully down the hall, unsure what to expect from entering what looked like sacred ground. Her own Nord blood swam swiftly in the hall, as if the walls were greeting her before a deeper purpose were to be revealed. Something lay behind the stone door; that she could feel in her heart— something was lurking behind that her juvenile mind couldn't comprehend.
As she approached the door, she was able to distinguish the symbols. They were very familiar to Mimzi, as if she had just seen the very thing just a few hours ago. She clawed in her bag and grasped the golden claw. A bear, moth, and an owl. The same symbols on the claw matched the door, but in a different order. She noticed the fourth symbol to the centre didn't contain anything distinct, just three holes. Mimzi held up the three golden fingers and gently placed them in the holes. They aligned perfectly but as Mimzi pushed it farther into the device she felt a click and a shift from each side. She immediately ducked to the floor as arrows spewed from each side of the hall to where she stood. Arrows flecked off the floor as they collided into the stonework and rattled onto the stone. The claw had activated but didn't open the door; it activated a trap. When the arrows finally stopped, Mimzi stood up from the ground with a racing heart. If the claw was crafted perfectly for this door, then why couldn't it open?
'What am I missing here?' Mimzi thought.
Arvel seemed convinced this claw was the key to revealing ancient Nord power. It all seemed to align perfectly, except that the door didn't open.
Mimzi studied the symbols again, and then the claw. Perhaps the claw was a key after all, but the door itself was a puzzle. She had read in books while young of ancient Nords using puzzles to encrypt their tombs from the invasion of elves, but back then it felt like it was only narrative. In this tomb, Mimzi felt as if she was inside one of those storybooks herself. She had desperately crawled her way through a tomb that would easily have ensnared her life had it not been for her own gobsmacking luck. Now she was standing before the door to open a long-lost relic of some kind, or perhaps an ancient danger. Mimzi didn't care for either, as long as this door opened her way out of the tomb.
The door symbols were from the top: moth, owl, bear. However, the claw was bear, moth, owl. Mimzi noticed three circular layers to each symbol along the door. Inside each crack between the layers was a whispering breeze. Mimzi gripped the symbol of a bear lowest to the keyhole and pulled to the left. It only budged slightly from the right. She then turned the symbol to the right and the stonework began to rotate. She turned it again and it revealed another symbol of a moth coming from the right side. Perhaps both symbols needed to be the same order before the door could open? Mimzi pulled again and revealed another symbol of an owl, matching the display of the claw. She turned the middle stone to match the moth on the claw. It was a bit harder to pull than the bottom puzzle. The slash in her upper right bicep began to burn. The upper ring needed to be the bear, as it was currently the moth. Mimzi gripped the side of the ring and pulled down forcefully. The upper ring was far harder to pull than the other two rings as it was larger and harder for Mimzi to clasp due to its height and size. She gathered power in her hips and legs— pulling down the ring to the right using her own weight, which even that seemed not good enough. Mimzi strained and groaned, and she pulled the ring once more to reveal the bear symbol. It emerged from the left side and with the rest of her marshalled strength she pulled it up to align with the other two symbols.
The symbols on the door aligned with the symbols of the claw. Mimzi wiped the sweat from her brow and carefully inserted the claw into the three holes until the faint click was heard. Suddenly the door itself shifted against its own stone. The rings of the puzzle began to spin as the stone door slowly cracked open and began to grind down into the floor, revealing an open, naturally lit cavern. Mimzi perked a faint smile to see the puzzle had worked, and she was now greeted to a stairwell up to an open cave. The welcoming smell of outside air enveloped her lungs. She placed the claw back into a bag and stepped over into the stairwell and out from the tomb. Up the stairs she ambled further into the cave. Bats hanging along the elongated pillars of stone began to flutter out through a vast opening containing a crested wall centred in the opening atop an inclined hill. The light from the two moons outside shone generously over the handcrafted wall. Mimzi began to feel a strong urgency towards this wall, almost compelling to her as she approached its structure. As if she couldn't find the exit just yet until she investigated its contents. Through the hooded cave she came to a stone bridge leading up to the hill harbouring the wall. She passed under the roof of the cave and made her way up the steps towards the wall cradled by a floor of mossy cobblestone.
As she neared closer to the giant wall a central emitting blue light shimmered off it. The blue light formed into an ancient tome of a few characters in a different language Mimzi hadn't yet encountered. As she got closer, her yearning grew deeper. It spoke without words but in a feeling she couldn't explain. It delved deep into her senses like it was always there but dormant. Something that was in hibernation till it now awakened. Mimzi could see the walls of Whiffet Orphanage once more. Her eyes glared white like the shimmering of starlight. Her mistress lay shivering in bewildered horror at the sight of Mimzi. Clutter of the orphanage lay to waste and shattered on the wooden floor before herself and the mistress. A growing rage released yet gifting her in freedom. A realization of power unlocked that never existed till it did exist. It grew like a famished beast from within her belly, crawled up to her throat, and erupted out her mouth in what she thought was a roar of rage, turned to a sudden burst of force. The feeling was pure force.
Mimzi's sight turned to white, her breathing stopped and her mind halted thought. For a second her body stayed in this way till it all faded back to the front of the wall. The glowing blue shimmer dissipated and turned to just carved stone of ancient letters. Her breathing began again, and her mind began to race like she had fallen asleep in her state and suddenly awoken to fight or flight; she was still in Bleak Falls Barrow.
A sudden crack of stone was heard behind her. Mimzi turned swiftly to face the sound and gasped at the sight of an armoured draugr gripping its skeletal claw against the sarcophagus that was containing it. It pushed the gate off its coffin to the ground and crawled out. In its hand wielding an ancient Nordic blade. Along its jagged scabbard hung chains. Its nasal helmet was as black as the night sky and two razor sharp horns erupting from the top of the skull of the helmet. It wielded an ancient iron shield in the left arm. Its attention was set to Mimzi, who quaked at the sight of the draugr lord before her. She held her iron shield up to the draugr and held her sword in her right arm. Whatever power had birthed from the wall to Mimzi had granted her a feeling of power and rage. Every feeling she had in that moment resonated with her standing over her mistress in the orphanage; the woman's frightened and defeated gaze feeding Mimzi's courage. She now looked upon an undead warrior. Whose blade had conquered many before her. It was now destined to charge Mimzi, whose experience in battle was that of a newborn's experience out the womb. If she were to meet the end of her days at the end of that ancient blade, she was to die amongst seasoned souls where glory await in afterlife. Not by arrows as she flees from execution or succumb to the injuries of a lowly bandit's assault. She would die as a warrior, a glad end.
"Death…" she dourly whispered to the draugr, her strength building, "… or Sovngarde… YEEEAAAAHH!!"
Mimzi lunged at the monster with her shield held high and sword swinging. The draugr clashed its blade against hers, both strikes powerful enough to stagger each of them. Mimzi quickly resolved and swung again— aiming for the draugr's neck. It then bashed Mimzi back with its shield— causing her to topple backwards. She rolled to the side urgently and away from his incoming strike. The draugr whipped its sword again to her and she rolled again, causing its blade to clank and rattle against the stone ground. Mimzi hopped onto her feet and threw her sword over and through its left arm, severing it off by the elbow. Its shield fell with the decaying arm still clasping the handle. The draugr roared in rage. Mimzi didn't hesitate before swinging her sword again at its throat. But before her blade could meet its rotted neck it spoke three syllables which created a force of power from its mouth— sending Mimzi flying back against the stone wall behind.
"FUS RO DAH!"
Mimzi bashed against the stone, her back colliding first. It knocked the air from her lungs and smacked the back of her head violently against the stone. She felt dazed and disoriented to the floor as the draugr lord approached her again, its sword held high and ready to swing. A surge of power still lingered within her, she gasped and held her shield up firm as the draugr's blade fell. It clanked against the iron of her shield, but the force of the blow cracked the radius bone in her arm. Mimzi screamed but pushed herself back to her feet and bashed the draugr with her shield relentlessly; despite the tremendous agony of each bash that further splintered the bones in her arm. The draugr resolved against the blows and thrashed its blade across Mimzi's stomach, causing her to collapse to the cold stone ground. Her shield fell through her fingers. Her left arm was shattered and the gash against her lower belly began to profuse blood that went cold against the cobblestone. Mimzi cried in agonizing pain— writhing from her injuries as the draugr approached her slowly, its blade pointed down as it gripped its hilt in its one arm.
"Hi grah pruzah, dovahkiin. Bo nu wah Sovngarde."
The draugr gasped through guttural croaks. It's rotted nostrils flexed and barred teeth clacked. It lifted its blade up over Mimzi's chest. She lay under the blade, her eyes filled with tears. Her right arm still gripped the hilt of her iron sword. She clenched her jaw and fists at the sight of her last moments before her. Underneath the headsman's axe she was willing to give her life back to Skyrim and to the nothingness her soul would return. Her body was of full health, yet her spirit was shattered. Here she lay fallen to an ancient warrior where her soul would go to Sovngarde, but her spirit was not defeated, her body was broken yet her spirit raged on. Mimzi breathed deep through her nose as white-hot rage erupted yet again. Force.
"NOOOOO!!!!"
She leapt off the stone floor with both hands gripping the hilt of her sword. The draugr's blade just barely slicing the right side of her cheek. She gripped her feet to the floor and lunged up with her blade piercing straight through the draugr's lower abdomen. It staggered and gasped as the white glowing light flickered in its eyes. The ancient sword it wielded fell, clanging on the stone. Mimzi ripped the sword out from its rendered decayed flesh, letting the draugr tumble backwards, thudding into the outside of the sarcophagus it originally emerged from. Mimzi's breathing was unequal and ragged. She stumbled feverishly but fought to stay alert. She examined the blade from the draugr. It was like a sliver of midnight, and sharp as hawk talons. She sheathed the sword before taking notice of a stone tablet engraved in ancient Nordic symbols laced in gold. It laid at a nearby altar close to the draugr's coffin. She picked up the stone in her right arm, as her left was maimed. She struggled to place it into her knapsack and limped slowly to an inclining stairwell to the left— behind the sarcophagus. The bleeding from her stomach wasn't stopping, and there were no more ailment potions to ease her new injuries. Mimzi ripped another piece of her blouse from the right sleeve, but it was too short to wrap over her lower abdomen. She spotted old linen on an altar close to where the dead draugr laid. She wrapped it generously over her gash, tying off the knot tightly. The blood still continued to seep through the thin cloth, but Mimzi persisted out the cave.
Through the cave entrance, Mimzi was once again greeted by the brimming fresh air of a cold Skyrim night. The sky lit up in orange and red aurora as the two moons illuminated brightly over the pine forest. The way out of the tomb was up on a receding hill. The only way down was to carefully crawl down the jagged rock formations to the grassy knoll. Mimzi's aches came in colossal waves. She slowly pressed herself down the rock formations, making sure to grip with her right arm more than her left, which was shattered from the blows of the draugr overlord.
Mimzi slowly gravitated herself down the first layer of rocks until her swollen, infected ankle lost footing and slipped out from under her, causing her to tumble down over the rocks and to the grass. Mimzi's face planted into the dirt and her strength waned. Her head throbbed immensely and every fibre in her body wanted to wither into the dirt and die. She laid on the ground of the pine forest for a time till she managed to strain herself off the earth and stand slowly. Her legs rattled and back cracked as she stood straight. Mimzi stumbled forward and limped deeper into the dark forest. Her vision was hazed and scattered as her strength was leaving. Mimzi gritted her teeth and endured, her limp turned to an unsteady stomp as she trudged through the forest towards Whiterun. Despite the happenings of the dreadful barrow, she made a promise in Riverwood, and she intended to keep it.
The sun beckoned over Whiterun in the early hours of dawn. Soft, cool mist floated along the bogs outside the city walls as wildlife foraged through the plains along the farmer's fields. The great walls of Whiterun ran along all of the inhabitants inside as a trickling stream ran alongside of the stone housing the city. Two city guards stayed to the great gates out front as the sun gleamed over the mountain peaks. Both wielding steel blades, bows and bannered shields, the guards remained unsteady and afraid of the news to come as the word of the attack on Helgen had spread far between the days of its events and the present.
"How big do you think it is? I mean… I know it destroyed Helgen but… do you think it's really big? Or just like a flying lizard of some kind?" A guard pondered; his duty stayed to the doors of Whiterun.
"Please tell me you're not talking about the dragon," the other guard grumbled while shaking his head.
"Of course, I'm talking about the dragon! If it attacks Whiterun, how in Stendarr's mercy are we going to kill it? I mean if it's not too big maybe we'd…"
"It decimated Helgen. Pulverized the damn towers, killed most of its people. Yeah, I'm going to say it's pretty big. What difference it make what size it is, anyway, idiot," the other guard interrupted with a dejected sigh.
"What in Ysmir's beard is happening? First the war, now dragons? Dragons!? Starting to feel a whole lot like the End-Times. You know, like in the stories?"
"You're letting that mead-soaked brain get the best of you," his friend replied, "Alduin the World-Eater was the bringer of the End-Times, not just any dragon. Just because dragons are coming back doesn't mean it's the end of the world. I say let it come, and we'll send it back where it came from."
"What? You mean Whiterun's gaggle of drunken louts? Even with the Companions in the city, we can't hope to bring down a damned dragon. Gods, where is the Dragonborn when you need one?"
"Pfft. Dragonborn," the other guard scoffed, "…you still reading those children's stories, then?"
"No. I'm just saying a Dragonborn is the only one who can… wait, someone is coming up the road," the guard alerted. Both guards took notice of a shrouded, limping figure coming up the road over the drawbridge.
"Why are they walking so slow? They injured?"
"Injured or not, you heard Irileth's orders. We gotta turn them away," stated the other guard.
The figure came up over the cobblestone path walking lazily. It's feet dragging and limp worsening with every step. The figure clutched at its waist as their heavy breathing could be heard from where the two guards stood.
"Hey! You there! City is closed with the dragons about! Official business only," the other guard blurted to the traveller, who only hastened their pace in response. The other guard shouted back again. "You deaf? I said the city is closed! Go somewhere else!"
The light over the peaks of the mountains then illuminated the road over the traveller, revealing a hooded, young woman, greatly injured and pallor. Her clothes were ripped and gathered in blood, dust, and old spider webbing. Her left arm flailed to her side, swollen and bruised. Blood and dirt riddled the delicate features of her pale face. Her sea blue eyes strained and red with looming dark circles underneath. She gazed up at the guards disoriented, her gaze began to glaze over as her eyelids twitched.
"What the… miss, what happened to you?" A guard asked in concern.
The girl stammered and swayed, her limping turned to shuffling as her eyes strained to stay open, "Riverwood…"
Both guards looked at each other highly disturbed. The other guard barked out, "Riverwood what?"
The girl slurred, "Calls for aid… Dragons…"
Her eyes then rolled to the back of her head as she fell forward. One of the guards quickly caught her before she hit the ground and swooped the unconscious girl up off her feet.
The other guard sighed and bellowed to the patrol over the wall, "Open the gate!" He followed closely behind his fellow guardsman who carried the girl inside the city.
"By Talos, what is happening?"