Chapter 10
Dusty Bonewalkers
"In ancient days, when dragons ruled Tamriel, many of Skyrim's population worshipped them as gods. Gods need priests to control their followers and the dragons were no exception, granting awesome powers to select individuals called Dragon Priests. These powerful sorcerer-priests were buried in massive Barrows, along with their legions of followers. These followers died within the tombs and rose again as 'draugr,' forever tainted with unlife. The draugr still wander their Barrows forever, doomed to a lonely existence of eternal service. In death they serve the Dragon Priests and await the return of their dragon masters. Considering the lack of living dragons, it seems the only danger the draugr pose is to unwary bandits and would-be-plunderers."- A Local's Guide to Skyrim: Fourth Revised Edition, written by Yander Bearclaw and published 2E 234. Quotation from the current version, published 4E 187.
The giant frostbite spider made the first move.
After spitting poison at Hammel, it scuttled forward with a vicious hiss. Throwing himself aside, Hammel felt the glob fly past and splatter harmlessly against the far wall. His bow was wrenched from his hand by the force of the dive, falling away and sliding into a far corner.
Even as Hammel pulled a sword free, Clob was springing into action. He launched three fireballs at the spider with speed and precision. While the monster managed to skitter out of the way of the first two, the third struck it directly in the thorax. The scent of burning hair filled the air as the giant spider began sizzling, but the brutal wound only seemed to anger it.
Ria dashed at it, the look on her face halfway between terror and anger, screaming her war cry shrilly. Lashing out with two front legs, the spider struck Ria. She managed to block the attack with her shield but still flew backwards halfway across the chamber from the force of the blow.
Clob narrowly dodged the flying Ria but didn't lose his concentration. He sent another two fireballs after the spider, both struck home but did little more than singe the carapace.
Both swords held firmly, Hammel took the opportunity to attack. Dashing forward, he struck out with both, aiming at the leg closest to him. He'd been a soldier long enough to know that striking the beast on its armoured forelimbs was pointless. The sensitive joints, on the other hand, would be vulnerable.
Slashing at the visible joints, Hammel was rewarded with a spray of stinking black ichor and a squeal of pain. With its good back leg, the spider struck him in the face. Hammel tasted blood as his head snapped back, skull ringing. The spider had struck him with the force of a cart horse and the only thing stopping him from flying across the chamber like poor Ria was the angle of the blow.
Spitting blood, Hammel struck the wounded joint again, determined to sever it. Ria had clambered back to her feet, repeatedly jabbing her sword at the spider's midsection with varying degrees of success.
Even as the spider lashed out at him, it spat more venom at Clob, determined to stop the devastating spells. Clob blocked the poison with a ward, reflecting it harmlessly away. Switching spells, he launched a lightning bolt with incredible precision. The lightning blasted the spider across its face, scarring it and exploding one of its eyes in a shower of dark gore.
The spider rushed forward snarling in agony, knocking Ria and Hammel to the ground, attempted to reach the source of its pain. Biting ferociously, the spider sunk its mandibles deep into Clob's shoulder, trapping him. The mage roared in agony and unleashed a torrent of flame directly into the creature's face. He could only cast the spell with one hand as his other arm was pinned to his side by the spider's powerful jaws.
Ria rolled underneath the spider and stabbed her blade up, punching deeply into soft underbelly. Hammel went to Ria's aid, hacking at the spider's limbs. Chopping at one leg he hadn't injured with all the grace of a rushed butcher, Hammel was rewarded with the feeling of warm blood striking his face. Both swords bit deep, crippling yet another limb.
Ria yanked her Skyforged blade free from the spider's underbelly and rammed it back in with the force of an Orcish berserker. Clob grit his teeth and maintained his flame spell despite the agony.
The spider began to buckle. Hammel sped the process along by hacking away at each leg with an-almost religious fervour. The spider flailed its remaining limbs in an attempt to strike him but to no avail. Hammel knew the spider's attack pattern and wasn't about to be hit again.
Ria decided that she didn't want to be under the spider anymore and rolled away. The monster released Clob and collapsed, almost crushing Ria. The mage staggered away with his good hand clutching his mangled shoulder. The giant spider let out a pitiful squeak of pain and tried to rise. With four ruined legs the effort was wasted and the spider collapsed again.
Hammel walked in front of the spider's face, planted his boot firmly on the beast's head, and sunk his swords deep into the skull. Flesh gave way and the giant spider shut its remaining eyes permanently.
Glancing backwards, Hammel noticed a stream of green blood flowing steadily down Clob's formerly pristine robes. He had slumped against a far wall with his good hand clenched tightly around the damaged shoulder. Based on his posture, Hammel would wager a guess the joint was broken and probably infected with deadly frostbite venom. Hammel pulled his swords free from the spider's corpse in a spray of dark blood, intending to help Clob.
Ria beat him to it.
Pulling a healing potion free from her belt and uncorking it in one smooth motion, she handed it to Clob. "Here, drink this. I took it off of one of the bandits. It looks strong."
Taking it gratefully, Clob revealed his wounds to Hammel's trained eye. His suspicions proved correct. The shoulder was mangled beyond recognition, ragged flesh hanging in strips while blood ran profusely.
Clob closed his eyes and chugged the potion. Hammel didn't feel like watching bones and flesh reknit, an immensely painful process, so he left Clob to heal and approached the bound man while returning his bow to its place on his back.
The weapon was a gift from Jarl Balrguuf, I won't abandon it for any reason.
The death of the giant spider seemed to have greatly relaxed the captive. Instead of continuing to scream and flail, he waited quietly to be freed.
Upon closer inspection, Hammel realised he was an incredibly scrawny Dunmer. A thin black beard covered his face in patches where it had decided to stick out of pity. He was dressed in the same combination of fur and leather the rest of the bandits had worn, marking him as obviously a member of their company.
"Excuse me," he asked after looking at Hammel for a moment, "Would you cut me down please? Not that I'm grateful for what you've already done for me."
The Dunmer's excessive politeness didn't go unnoticed by Hammel. "Who are you?" He responded tersely, returning one of his swords to its sheath. Taking a handful of webs in his hand, Hammel began sawing.
"Arvel, Arvel the Swift," he responded. "No doubt you slaughtered those brigands who left me for dead?" Hammel nodded, knowing full well Arvel was one of those "brigands." "You're here for the claw I'd wager."
That got Hammel's attention, "What claw?"
"The golden claw, the one we…" Catching himself, the Dunmer adjusted quickly, "That is to say, the one they stole from the Riverwood Trader. I thought you'd been hired by the proprietor to retrieve it?" Looking past Hammel at the still healing Clob, Arvel commented, "You certainly seem like adventurers." Shaking his head as Hammel freed one arm, Arvel seemed to have some thought. "Whatever you do, don't return the claw until we get the treasure! The claw is the key to the lock. Get through the Hall of Stories and find the loot! Get me out of here and I'll show you. I'll share it with you!" His formally eloquent tone rapidly dissolved into incoherent babbling. This Arvel seemed obsessed and insane.
"What do you think I'm doing?" Hammel said tersely, freeing the other arm, "Give me a minute and I'll cut you your legs loose."
With any luck, this treasure he's babbling on about will be the Dragonstone. The sooner we get it the sooner we can leave this damn tomb.
Slicing the webs on the Dunmer's leg, Hammel stepped back as Arvel fell to the ground. "Now, what about this treasure?"
Arvel responded to Hammel's kindness by punching him in the face.
While he had anticipated betrayal, Hammel was caught off guard by its speed. The punch connected with his jaw and staggered him a few steps backwards. Belatedly, Hammel realised he was now blocking Clob's line of sight, preventing the mage from melting Arvel where he stood.
"Ha! Why should I share my treasure with all of you?" Arvel cackled madly before dashing down the tunnel deeper into the barrow. He seemed unconcerned by the darkness around him as he moved into unexplored tunnels. His sole objective seemed to be getting his hands on his much-obsessed treasure.
He isn't getting very far.
"Runner!" Hammel shouted while slamming his sword back into the sheath in pursuit of Arvel. Ria shouted something at him, but he blocked her out. It was time for hunting.
Arvel's moniker of "The Swift'' proved accurate. He set a blistering pace down the dark tunnels, maintaining his balance despite the downward slope. While Arvel may have been fast, Hammel doubted he could outrun an arrow.
Slowing his pace long enough to draw his bow, Hammel made sure to keep Arvel in his sights.
There is something about the chase. I missed it.
He'd run at his current pace far longer, across swamps, tundras, and deserts. While he couldn't move any faster, he knew Arvel couldn't outlast him. Unfortunately for the Dunmer, Hammel didn't have time to run him down over a long pursuit.
The tunnel was levelling out and the closed iron doors at the end of the hallway promised the beginning of the Barrow's burial chambers. Hammel's hand went to his quiver as Arvel put his shoulder to the doors. They flew open with an echoing crash. Arvel barreled into the room. While moving, Hammel notched an arrow, the chamber seemed his best chance to end the chase.
Flying past the door, Hammel saw Arvel nearing the other end of the burial chamber. Directly across the chamber was a winding tunnel, likely leading to the next burial chamber. If Arvel got into those tunnels, hitting him with an arrow would be tricky. Hammel didn't want a long chase through the Barrow, in case monsters were lurking about. This little race had to end.
Dropping to one knee, Hammel pulled his bowstring back to his ear, looked down the shaft and released. The arrow soared across the chamber with deadly precision, striking Arvel in his unarmored calf. The arrow punched clean through the flesh, lodging itself firmly in it.
Shrieking in pain, Arvel found his leg suddenly useless, and collapsed in an undignified heap.
Unfortunately, his momentum carried him into one of the burial shelves and he slammed into the interred body. The corpse and bandit fell to the ground in a tangle of flailing limbs.
The chamber was designed simply, looking no different from many of the others they had passed. What made the burial chamber unique were the numerous man-sized shelves carved into the wall. Each was occupied by a body, pristinely laid out, but suffering from various stages of decay. Some were little more than skeletons, while others were grey husks but with the majority of flesh remaining. The body Arvel tangled with was one of the latter.
Shockingly, the body didn't appear particularly fond of him.
The corpse staggered to its feet, groaning with surprising vigour. Arvel looked up at it with mounting horror. The bonewalker gazed around the burial chamber for a moment, taking in its surroundings, before noticing Arvel cowering at his feet.
Arvel's attempt to crawl away was both pathetic and useless. He'd barely managed to get half a body's length away before the undead grabbed him. Lifting the squirming Dunmer up by his neck without apparent effort, the corpse stared into the bandit's eyes with its own, milky white, pupiless orbs. After staring at Arvel for a moment with its empty gaze, the corpse snapped his neck one-handed, letting his corpse fall to the floor. Stepping over the remains of the, now late, Arvel the Swift, the corpse set its milky eyes on Hammel.
Without hesitation, Hammel notched and released another arrow. It struck the creature in the chest and sank deep. It seemed to have no effect, as the undead shrugged it off without even noticing. A second arrow joined the first and then a third. Finally, Hammel's fourth arrow struck the head, shattering the skull. The undead collapsed, looking as lifeless as it had before Arvel.
"Draugr!" Hammel muttered, staring at the creature he'd just dispatched. Morbidly, he looked at the four arrows it had taken to drop the creature and did some math. The results weren't promising for his quiver.
"Did you say, draugr?" Clob asked, sounding slightly out of breath. Hammel turned to see Clob and Ria had caught up, looking a little worse for wear. The mage's beard was plastered to his face with sweat, and he looked paler. Considering the blood loss made Clob's heartiness even more impressive. Still, that's what Hammel expected of an Orc, even a mage. Ria's war paint had run, but otherwise she looked chipper as ever.
Clob reached into the front satchel on his robe, withdrawing his small notebook and quill. Sparing a quick glance past Hammel, he observed the fallen undead on the floor. "Extraordinary!" he breathed, scratching a few notes rapidly into his little book, "I hope you won't mind letting me study this fallen draugr a moment…"
"They might," Ria responded, pointing past Hammel towards the wall shelves. Turning with a feeling of dread, he heard the unmistakable sound of old bones creaking as five more draugr clambered out from their burial shelves. Rotting beards and ruined armor was the only proof that these monsters had once been proud Nord warriors. Unlike the draugr Hammel had just dispatched, these were armed. Each carried an axe or blade forged in ancient days that still looked capable of easily cutting through flesh.
The lead draugr, a short man with a knotted beard reaching down to his bony knees who was as wide as a door, pointed right at Hammel. He growled something in what Hammel assumed was the ancient Nordic tongue before rushing him with an axe drawn. Hammel released his arrow, striking the bearded draugr in the forehead. Despite the damage done, the draugr's advance didn't slow. Two others flanked it, rushing the three invaders. Throwing aside his bow, Hammel drew both swords, crossing them across his chest in an X shape. "Come on then," he murmured, looking the draugr in their unseeing eyes. The lead draugr's head snapped forward to meet Hammel's challenge, the arrow still sticking from his forehead. One of the other undead was struck with a fireball. Clob had already made short work of his first opponent. With another draugr rushing the mage, and Ria battling a second, the leader and the fifth draugr moved towards Hammel.
The lead draugr swung his axe at Hammel. It was a slow strike he easily dodged and countered. While the draugr may have been moving slower because of his recent reanimation, he was still unnaturally tough. Hammel's sword punched clean into its torso. The draugr hardly seemed to notice, instead striking with his axe again. Ducking the blow, Hammel countered with a quick overhead slash, neatly decapitating the draugr. He kicked the falling body into the other oncoming draugr, slowing it's progress.
Hammel easily dodged a crude downward strike, sliding past his opponent. As he went, Hammel hacked at the draugr's leg, removing the limb below the knee. The undead stumbled, caught off balance by the sudden removal of the leg. Rising while simultaneously striking upward, Hammel neatly bisected the draugr's head. The undead collapsed, returned to the embrace of death. Shaking the gore off his blades, Hammel glanced back to the others. "Is everyone in one piece?"
Ria didn't answer, instead giving a smug grin, her boot planted firmly on the back of the draugr she'd slain. "I appear to be so," Clob answered, casting a wayward glance at the ash piles at his feet. He had ensured his opponent was completely disintegrated, leaving further reanimation impossible. It seemed he'd battled his fair share of undead before.
Interesting…
"Anyone else want to face us?" Ria shouted, her arms held confidently in a "bring it on," gesture, a mile-wide grin stretched across her face.
"There are certainly plenty more draugr, Ria," Clob said casually, once again reaching into his haversack for his notebook. "Unless my information is incorrect, I believe the ancient Nords are buried in mass."
"You aren't wrong," Hammel said, investigating the rapidly cooling remains of Arvel the Swift. The bandit had mentioned something about a claw being the key to great treasure. Hammel doubted the now deceased bandit would have run this way if he didn't have it on him. While he wasn't sure it would be useful, he didn't want to leave the chamber without whatever it was.
Clob was murmuring to himself, writing in his notebook. Ria stood guard, her sword in hand, looking nervous despite her best efforts to the contrary. Ignoring both, Hammel focused on the task before him. Arvel's pockets were empty of anything that might possibly be a key. However, after flipping him over, he discovered a small knapsack attached to the belt. It was closed with a small lock. Rather than hunt for a key, he simply took The Kiss and slashed the bag open.
Various contents spilled out. Half a sweet roll, several dice carved from animal bone, a few Septims, and a roll of paper. However it was two specific items that drew Hammel's attention. One was a journal, clearly written by the bandit himself, and the other was a small replica of a dragon's foot, made entirely from solid gold. Picking up the unusual object, he turned the claw over in his hands, looking at it from all angles. While the top was made with meticulous attention to detail, the bottom was carved into three different animal images. The beasts were crudely formed but he identified them as a moth, a bear and an owl. These totem animals, representing the gods of the ancient Nordic pantheon, were deeply impactful to those people. After pocketing the claw, he tossed the journal at Clob.
"Here," Hammel said as Clob caught the book one-handed, "See what you can make of this. Once you're done, let's pack up. I want to get the Dragonstone and get out of here."
Clobnak gro-Grogork did not respond. Instead he began flipping through the book in total silence. After a moment, he spoke, "It is good that you recovered this journal. I'll explain why on the way." Stashing the diary within the depths of his haversack, the mage stood. We've wasted enough time in this foul tomb."
"The Nords crafted truly compelling architecture," Clob observed, looking at the chamber's walls. They had battled their way through a few more groups of draugr without any issue, the dusty bonewalkers were no match for their superior weapons, speed, and teamwork.
Still, the draugr had slowed their progress to a crawl. Hammel didn't want to spend more than a day inside Bleak Falls Barrow. He had plans to rest for the night in Riverwood, before travelling back to Whiterun. The journey down the mountain wasn't one he wanted to make at night.
After what felt like an eternity of exploring, but couldn't have been more than a few hours, they finally reached the Hall of Stories. Clob's magelight illuminated the chamber clearly enough for the wall carvings to be read. They showed a warrior, presumably Denbar, slaughtering his enemies, both man and beast, plundering great hoards, and claiming numerous women. Like everything else about the tomb, Clob seemed fascinated with the carvings.
"How intriguing," he murmured, running a hand gently across the ancient carvings with an expression of reverence. "These people never cease to amaze me…"
"As happy as I am for you," Ria said a little tersely, the difficulty of the quest was finally grating her nerves, "I want you to help us with this." Hammel and Ria had crossed the Hall quickly, discovering a large stone door that blocked off the burial chamber itself. It was circular but easily filled the passage. The door was split into three inner disks, stacked atop one another. On each ring was carved one of three different totem animals, the moth, the whale and the bear. Placed in the centre of the door was a small golden disc carved with three small pressure points. There was no obvious means of opening the door.
"The door? Yes, I was anticipating this." Clob closed his journal, replacing it with the one taken from Arvel. "According to the Dunmer's notes, the claw recovered from his person is the key to unlocking the door. May I see it?"
Hammel approached the door and handed Clob the golden claw. "I think I see where you're going with this…"
Clob nodded. "I was puzzled at first. However, the answer became clear after I studied the item. On its underside," he flipped the claw over, displaying the carvings on the bottom, "The animals are exactly the same as those carved onto the door, though in a different order. These same animals cannot be a coincidence."
Striding up to the door while the others looked on, Clob began spinning the disks. Each individual ring moved smoothly on its own, the discs spinning independently of each other. "These puzzle locks require the correct combination of symbols to be displayed before the key can be inserted."
"That's just swell," Ria pointed out, ramming her longsword back into its sheath dejectedly, "Except we don't have the combination."
Hammel stroked his goatee a moment, pondering the problem. "Actually, I think we do." Ria flashed him a look suggesting that she questioned his sanity. "The bottom of the claw has the animals carved in the order bear, moth, then owl. If this claw is the key, like Arvel said, that would be the combination."
"I have deduced as much," Clob said while pushing the owl into place. "This theory should be tested." With precise hand movements, he arranged the other two rings, matching the claw's pattern. "Now, if you would like to do the honours?"
Clob stepped aside, flashing a hand at the door like he was some kind of professional greeter at a fancy tavern, passing Hammel the claw.
He placed the claw snugly into the door's centre, each toe fitting smoothly into one of the notches. Gripping the claw by its handle, Hammel twisted it to the left.
There was a rumbling and vibrations ran through the floor and up his leg. With a screech of stone on stone, the door sank slowly into the floor, leaving the doorway open.
"Ingenious, these ancient Nords," Clob said with a tone of respect. "Perhaps, they could have challenged the Dwemer with their ingenuity."
"Wow!" Ria breathed in awe, staring past the duo at the tomb beyond. It was certainly an impressive view.
Beyond the door was a small cave. An opening in the cavern's roof allowed the light to stream down from above, bathing the area with a warm glow. A river ran down its centre, splitting off at several points, including a roaring waterfall at the far end, deafening in the enclosed space. Several ancient pine trees had grown to truly towering heights beneath the ceiling. In the very centre of the hollow was a raised platform, lovingly carved from solid rock. It was easily the size of the Barrow's entrance chamber and accented by a curved wall. At the very centre of the platform sat a stone sarcophagus. Chests and other gifts surrounded the sarcophagus, given to Denbar by those who admired his power or feared his wrath.
"I can't believe he was right," Hammel said disparagingly, "That smug bastard was right!" He glanced over at Ria, "Don't tell Farengar I said that." Shel smiled, continuing to gaze around the underground forest.
Clob stabbed his quarterstaff into the ground before making frantic gestures with both hands. A bolt of clear energy zipped from his hands across the chamber, halting before the sarcophagus. "According to my clairvoyance spell, our prize is contained by that sarcophagus."
Drawing his bow, Hammel began his journey across the cavern, crouched in an attempt to avoid any possible threat. He might not have seen any enemies, but that didn't mean there weren't any. He could hear Ria and Clob moving faintly behind him, doing their best to keep quiet.
Good for them.
The cavern was unnaturally chilly, mist hanging in the air. Hammel couldn't explain the source of it but it made him nervous. Nothing had attacked him but that somehow made the fear worse.
He was nearing the stone platform when he heard it, something in the back of his mind. A faint chanting in the ancient Nordic tongue. "Do you hear that?" he whispered to his companions, looking over his shoulder.
"Hear what?" Ria responded tersely, her face looking nervous. "I don't hear anything."
"It's right there," he responded, straining his ears to hear more clearly. It was voices chanting in ancient Nordic. Shaking his head didn't clear the noise, and the closer he got to the wall the louder the chant became.
Clearing the rest of the cavern without another word save those in his head, Hammel hoisted himself onto the platform. The sarcophagus sat surrounded by wealth. Despite its plain nature, it radiated power and pride. Like its occupant, the tomb had withstood the test of time.
However, Hammel didn't notice the piles of coin, the gems, or even the sarcophagus itself. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the curved wall behind it. Now that he was closer to it, the chanting was impossible to ignore, almost screaming in his mind. He couldn't quite explain it, but it was originating from the wall.
Carved into the wall were strange hieroglyphs. Like the chanting in his head, there was something eerily familiar about them. Slowly, he somehow realised that the letters were written in dragon-tongue, what he'd assumed was ancient Nordic.
How do I know that?
A section of the letters began glowing a bright blue light, illuminating the cavern. Without thinking, he slowly began walking towards the glowing letters.
"What in Oblivion are you doing?" Ria hissed, trying to keep her voice down.
Hammel didn't hear her, he was enthralled by the letters. Something about them demanded closer inspection. Like a puppet on strings, he moved forward, taking them in. Standing nose to stone, he stared at them, giving the letters his full attention. One of them, a simple collection of curves and lines, stuck him. It felt powerful, in a way he couldn't explain.
"Fus," he murmured under his breath, letting the word roll off his tongue. Oddly enough, nothing extraordinary happened, even though he seemed to anticipate something would have.
"If you're done staring at walls," Ria said exasperatedly, her nervous energy finally overpowering her resolve, "We need to get this stone and get the…"
Her words were rudely interrupted by the coffin.
The lid exploded up with all the force of a giant's swing, smashing to bits against the ceiling. Rising from that sarcophagus was Denbar the Cruel.
The undead hero was a draugr, like those Hammel had slaughtered his way through, though in much better condition. Most of his skin remained intact, though it had greatly paled, with his skeleton clearly visible at several points. His dark platemail remained intact though rusted while the greying remains of a once proud beard clung stubbornly to his chin. Quickfrost, his famous greatsword, waited patiently to spill blood across the stones.
The draugr gave one look at Clob before shouting something unintelligible. A massive shockwave echoed from Denbar's mouth, launching Clob head over heels across the room. It seemed their new foe could use The Voice.
"Spread out!" Hammel shouted, going for his bow, "Attack him from all angles!" Ria responded to the command by dashing around the chamber. The mage on the other hand moved slower, the impact his body made with the walkway echoing in the cavern.
Denbar didn't seem impressed with his opponents. Even after Hammel placed several arrows in his chest with lightning speed, the draugr seemed more annoyed than anything.
Ria flanked him, lashing out at Denbar with her blade. Skyforged steel bit deep into unfeeling flesh, severing a long forgotten hamstring. Denbar wasn't pleased with this development and slammed his fist backward into her face. Ria's head snapped back from the blow, blood gushing from her nose, leaving red streaks down her pretty face. Ria snarled through the pain, shield-bashing Denbar in the face. The draugr was forced backwards onto his wounded leg and into another volley of arrows. The arrows punched cleanly into Denbar's back. Throwing the bow aside with a growl, Hammel drew both swords, charging forward with mad abandon.
Clob had staggered to his feet, eyes smouldering with Orcish bloodlust. Roaring with rage, he sent three fireballs at the draugr. Each impacted with a small burst, sizzling long dead skin. Denbar turned his gaze away from Ria towards Clob. Raising a hand, he unleashed a cone of magic frost. The effect was almost instantaneous. The Orc's green skin quickly dulled, snow forming on his long beard. Despite the pain, he held on, tusks quivering and eyebrows freezing, responding with a cone of flame.
Despite being attacked on all sides with fire and steel, the draugr refused to surrender quietly. With another Shout, Denbar sent Ria across the room, smashing her into the Word Wall Hammel had been so fascinated by. Pivoting on his injured leg, Denbar swung Quickfrost at Hammel's neck, forcing him to duck. Despite the thickness of his iron helm, he felt the magical chill dance across his scalp and down his neck.
Launching a series of rapid strikes, Hammel desperately tried to bring the large draugr down. Each blow cut deep, but was seemingly ignored by his foe. Clob's stream of fire seemed to be wearing Denbar down, his concentration on Hammel prevented him from sending more frost at Clob.
Ria returned to the fight, shield first, hacking away at the draugr's back. The three determined warriors finally proved too much for the legendary tyrant. He didn't collapse so much as fall apart. After a few particularly vicious slashes, Denbar fell into several pieces before them.
In the moments that followed heavy breathing was the only sound, as each came to grips with their survival and victory. Hammel recovered first. "Clob, burn this body to ash, I don't want Denbar rising again," he ordered, sheathing both blades with a flourish. "Ria, give me a hand searching this tomb. I want the Dragonstone found, and quickly." He glanced around the chamber cautiously, "I don't want any more surprises.
"Quite right," Clob agreed, rubbing his hand together in an attempt to force some feeling back into them. "I've had my fill of tombs this day."
Hammel found himself agreeing with that assessment.