Ralof knelt beside the body of his fallen comrade, moving the man's hands over his chest. It was almost picturesque as he closed the man's still open eyes. He spoke softly, "May we meet again in Sovengarde, brother." He stood up, turning back to Krassus, before speaking again, "I would help you get those bindings off," he gestured to the metal shackles, "but I don't think even my axe could break those in a reasonable time."
"There is no need." He replied, His voice echoing in the circle chamber adding to the already deep tone. He flexed, bringing His arms apart. At first there was no difference, the cast iron holding strong, but then, in the span of a few seconds, there was a rough groan emitted from the links, before a rough snap filled the chamber, and the chain shattered in the middle. Ralof, gazed at the now broken chains, surprise written upon his face in the form of raised eyebrows.
"Why didn't you do that before, when the Imperials were putting your head to the block?" He asked.
"I recall that they couldn't make me kneel that low. Nonetheless, they had their archers trained on me, no point in squaring up to be filled like a pin cushion. That would make a Dishonorable death."
"And what made you think that you were going to get off of that block alive?" the man replied, his surprise over written by an instinctual curiosity. To be honest even He didn't fully know why.
"Let's call it a precognitive guess." He rumbled out, looking down at the man, His arms once again free.
"A precog.. What? Do you mean a gut feeling? Are you telling me that you, an 8 foot tall goliath of a man, were willing to stay bound based on a feeling in your gut?" Ralof stared at Him in disbelief. "I know it's one thing to listen to instinct in the midst of battle, but to throw your life on a finicky edge based on which way the winds are blowing, that just isn't right."
"It appears that it worked, did it not?" He could not see where this conversation was going, or why Ralof had such a big concern over the matter, they had escaped bonds, yes?
"And you get saved by a Dragon of all things. You must either be the luckiest man alive, or terribly cursed." He turned his attention to the iron door. "Eh, whatever works, we need to focus on getting out of here. I'll go see if either of these doors are unlocked, why don't you take his axe?" He said, pointing to a two handed weapon resting against the table. "He's not going to have a use for it anymore." Ralof turned away, and crossed the floor to inspect the iron door.
He, in turn, reached across and grabbed the handle of the weapon. It looked reliable, and was meant to be wielded in two hands if you were of normal size, but in His hands it could be used by one alone despite looking comically disproportionate. It's head was sharp and made of iron, connecting to the wooden shaft that was entwined with strips of coarse leather. This was a warrior's tool. It felt right in His hands. He swung it around, getting the feel for the weapon, a few mock swings showing that the weapon, while decently made, was not balanced fully. The haft was outweighing the blade by a good fraction, however, if He needed to throw the weapon He could probably land the hit well enough. It would have to do for now.
"Damn, this door is locked." Ralof said from behind Him, already moving across the floor to the wooden gate. "Let's try this one instead." His search was interrupted part way however, as the trod of boots sounded from the far side of the wooden gate. A female called out, "Quickly Soldier, this way." It was familiar, in fact, it was the Captain who had sliced the back of His leg with her sword. Ralof took notice a second later as the footsteps began to jog closer.
"Get ready, there are Imperials coming." he whispered, moving to the side of the door, opposite of Him, drawing his axe in preparation. The Imperials had arrived at the door, and there were only two of them, the Captain from before, and one of the regular soldiers wearing leather armor. The soldier stepped off to the side, slightly out of view. It was a wonder that they didn't hear Ralof's boots against the floor as he shifted and drew his axe, but perhaps it was only Him that noticed, seeing as the Imperials didn't react any differently.
"Quickly soldier, get this gate open!" the Captain spoke, urgency and a bit of worry coloring her voice. As if to capitalize upon that fear, a roar broke through from the walls themselves, it's great bellowing even making a small shake here in the keep, the dragon outside was angry, or perhaps hungry, and it was having a feast of both pain and flesh. Suddenly, there was a slight grunt, followed shortly by the sound of shifting gears. The gate slowly slid into the ceiling, and the Imperials both began to enter the room. They both had their weapons sheathed, and they were focused on the far door.
He was upon them in an instant. In the blink of an eye, He side stepped from His hiding spot and grabbed the Captain first with an outstretched arm, and sent her sprawling to the floor behind Him. She hit the ground with a rather hard landing, surprised by the sudden ambush. The soldier behind her didn't even have time to scream before the pilfered axe He had acquired split the man's skull in two. As for the Captain, she got out at least a panicked yelp before He was upon her. Tearing the axe from the soldier's skull it changed the momentum of the weapon, bringing the back end, and it's sharpened spike, directly into the back of the Captain's leg, piercing through the thin hide, skin, muscle, and through the metal greaves, before it became embedded within the stone floor. She wailed at that, even as he moved around to face her.
"Let me deliver you Justice." His voice coming out as a snarl, almost animal-like. She gazed at Him, mouth agape in horror as His now empty hands quickly attached themselves to her head, and with a swift and brutal snap, broke her neck, nearly ripping her helmeted head off in the process. Her body slumped forward, her mouth still agape as she hit the floor with an awful clang. He reached back, and with a swift gesture, pulled the axe out of the deceased woman's leg. The fight, if one were to call it that, was over in five seconds.
"Remind me to never piss you off." Ralof spoke to Him, sheathing his unbloodied axe and moving to check the bodies. He found nothing of interest upon the soldier, and moved to the Captain, fishing his hand in the small pockets around her waist, before releasing a small "ah-ha", before withdrawing a small bronze key from the pocket. "I bet this thing," he raised the key up for inspection, "will unlock that door." he finished, already moving towards the iron bar door.
Krassus followed, and upon inserting the key and pushing against the locking mechanism, the door opened, grinding slightly against the floor. Beyond the door lay a half spiral staircase that led downward, and was large enough that five men could walk abreast with some room to spare. Hugging the wall, the two men descended, before passing into the doorway at the bottom which lead into an adjacent hallway. The hallway was very bland, and only had two doors on the left side, separated by several feet and made of solid wood, torches in scones filled the passageway with a dim light that nipped and sparked in the air. Further down the hall there were two figures, clad in blue, but suddenly, the dragon reaffirmed it presence in their minds, and released another roar, enough to shake the keep from the outside in, causing the ceiling to collapse in the middle. The resulting rubble caused even Him to take a knee from the shaking, and it lasted for several seconds.
"Well, that way is cut off, we'll have to find another way around." Ralof said, before he spotted that Krassus was already up and moving towards the wooden door on their current side of the hall. With a deft pull He swung the door open, advancing into the room. The room was longer than it was wide, and was adorned with shelves and tables packed to the brim with bags, barrels, and crates. The rest of the room was hidden behind a divider support, but Krassus had already begun to analyze and move towards the other two beings in the room. Another officer and soldier stood in the middle, the soldier searching through the barrels for something. Both of the men turned upon hearing the door open however. Ralof entered in behind Him and spotted the two Imperials as well, drawing his axe.
"Get ready to die!" the officer shouted, moving towards them and drawing his sword, the soldier a few steps behind. The officer charged at Him first, but just as he was about to swing, found that his target had simply moved and was now to the left of him, a massive set of knuckles back handing him across the face, and sent him straight into the stone work. The soldier saw this and faltered, backpedaling from His form and raising his sword to defend himself. There was no chance, as suddenly, the iron axe came up, and with a might shove, hammered into the man. The soldier didn't get knocked over all the way, but was left reeling, his block thoroughly broken. The axe came up again, and struck the soldier in the face, once, then again, and finally for a third time the butt of the shaft going into the man's nose and shattering it. The soldier dropped his sword and grabbed at his nose even as blood gushed through his fingers. A fool's mistake but it would not have mattered if he held onto his blade, for the axe had been spun about and the fang breached the man's skull with enough force to pulp a crater in the side of his skull. With a slight flick the body was pushed away, small bits of skull fragments and grey matter following behind the fang of the axe as He wheeled around on the ball of his foot, looking to finish the officer off. He paused however, to find Ralof standing over the man, his axe buried deep within the Captain's throat.
"You got something there." he said, pointing with his free hand at the axe's clip, his eyes tracking the small bits of cranial matter as they slid off of the curved edge. Ralof bent and pulled his axe away from the corpse's throat, his own feeling a tad bit dry. A slight flick and the axe was once again rid of most of the blood, Krassus replicating the process with the end of His own axe. Re-sheathing the hand axe in his belt, he looked around. Though he did not say it, it was quite clear that he was unnerved by the brutal slaughter that had been replicated upstairs. "Why don't you search some of these barrels for potions, we might need them." he said, trying to distract himself from the body of the soldier.
"Potions?" There was confusion written across his face, but Ralof had the echoes of it upon his own.
"Yeah," he gulped, "they're shaped like a flask, and are red and green, you know health and stamina, yeah?" It was meant in levity from Ralof's perspective, but it didn't hold much of a concept to Him seeing as it was an unknown thing. He turned away from the man and began searching through the barrels.
"And the blue ones?" He asked, holding up a small, almost toy like flask in his massive hand, it was colored a light blue. He inspected it, but besides it's little stopper on the top, there wasn't much to see.
"Those are for mana, mages usually carry them to help throw out some extra spells." Ralof replied, moving towards the far end and another door, "don't really see someone like you using magic thought."Krassus continued His search through the barrels, thinking. Mages? those were unfamiliar to Him. Another thought however congealed at the back of His mind, a word came to His lips even as He pulled out and pocketed a few red and green flasks and stored them in a small pouch that he had picked up and tied to His rather rudimentary, rope belt. What was it... Ps-er… p-yk-r... Psyker! That was it was, it felt natural to use the term, but He fully didn't understand it, maybe Ralof would know.
"Do you mean a psyker?" He rumbled out, withdrawing from the barrels and crossing the room to stand before the door. Ralof looked up at Him, eyes squinting in confusion.
"What, what in the name of Talos is a psyker?" he asked, before continuing, "Look, no, you're already being weird enough being You, I'm talking about mages, you know, they shoot fireballs, or lighting, they throw up magical shields and heal people depending on their profession, you've got have seen one, right?" He said, his arms crossed as he looked up at Him. Now that he thought about it, when he was running with Hadvar, a few of the soldiers around Tullius had been blasting fireballs at the dragon. They had to be psykers.
"So, psykers." Ralof just threw his hands up, in what seemed to be a gesture of frustration if He had to base it off the look on the man's face.
"Fine, sure, I guess they are, but let me tell you, we call them Mages up here, as well as in most of Tamriel I'm assured. If you wanna call 'em 'Psykers' that's fine by me, but try not to cry too much when you get your face torn off when one of them takes it as an insult." He said, before pushing against the door and entering the other side of the hallway. He didn't try to remark with the man on how a title that was truthful to someone's nature can be fully considered an insult, unless, of course, said with enough force or venom. Or how He didn't shed tears over a physical attack.
He ducked under the door frame, and moved forwards. They were now on the other side of the rubble, and the hallway led on for a good amount before ending with a turn and a straight staircase. They quickly moved forward, but as they rounded the corner towards the stairs, they both heard the sound of weapons, promptly causing Ralof to re-draw his own and Himself to curl His open fist in preparation for a fight. They descended the stairs at a brisk pace, only for the sound of combat to increase, yells and weapons clashing interrupted by a fierce sizzling sound every few seconds. Ralof cursed as they approached the bottom. "Troll's blood, a torture chamber."
the room they had descended into was square, and well lit. 3 cages of solid steel lined the wall across from the stairs, and the middle of the room were four support pillars. The combats within were two stormcloaks, a man and a woman, against two Imperials, one dressed like a regular soldier and the other having his helmet replaced with a hood. The combatant with the hood had a dagger in one hand, and right as He turned the corner, unleashed a beam of lightning directly at the female storm cloak. She screamed, and kneeled over, but was unable to get up before the hooded one was upon her, his dagger set to end her. The other Stormcloak was locked in combat with the spare imperial who kept the man at bay with a shield and mace. Ralof was too far away to assist her, but still tried to charge with his axe. He however, could.
"Psyker." he boomed out, crossing the floor in two steps and sent his curled fist into the blind sided executioner. The man flew across the room, in-between the two others locked in combat, and slammed into the stone wall, before he slid down, a large red spot remaining splatter there, as if a gigantic insect had been crushed. The other Imperial eyed the corpse of his dead ally with shock, before turning back in the direction of Krassus, but in his stupor, had forgotten the Stormcloak in front of him, who had used the distraction to raise his two handed axe, and swung it down. The blade went into the man's collar bone and sunk into the binding, a terrible scream split the air for a second before he pulled it out again and let the fresh body fall limp to the floor. He turned, and looked at Him in awe.
As for the female on the floor, she had her eyes closed, expecting death, but instead of a swift death from the torturer, had hear a massive boom in the form of a shout, similar to the Will of the Voice, followed by a loud smack, then the follow up of an axe tasting flesh alongside a dying scream. She opened her eyes, to find the booted feet of her would be executioner to have been replaced by a gigantic pair of bare feet. She tilted upwards, and her gaze fell upon the massive face of her savior, the Giant from the courtyard. He shifted, looking at the two Stormcloaks as Ralof stepped up beside Him.
"Don't worry," he spoke to the two, "he's with us." Both of them gazed up at Him, only for the male to break his gaze, and turn to Ralof, with an eyebrow raised. "Don't worry about it right now, have either of you seen Jarl Ulfric?" he asked, a small tone of worry inflicting his voice.
"No," the male answered, "you two are the first people we've seen besides these two imperials.'' The female was oblivious to their conversation however, still enraptured by the looks of her savior. His shirtless body, which looked as if it was purely muscle subtly moved as he drew breath, massive shoulders and a pair of arms that could hold up the very world, a far cast from those lanky 'giants' that strode the northlands. Her eyes wandered to His face, how it looked as if His jawline had been carved out of stone, and a few scars ran from His left check to the side of His nose. At the top of His forehead on the right side sat three circular scars, as if someone had hit him with the butt of a thin metal rod until it was ingrained upon the flesh. Massive blue eyes stared down at the two men besides him as they conversed, the color deep enough to get lost in, and to top it all off, a head of wavy hair that reached to the middle of his back, was it her, or was a slight breeze picking the ends of it up like a cape? She was drawn back to the conversation to Ralof's command, "Come on, we have to scout ahead."
Opposite of the staircase they had entered from, was the entrance to a rather long hallway, lit by braziers on the floor. The quartet moved quickly, passing several prison cells as they hustled into another room. This room was filled to the brim with cages, cylinder things made of steel that were funnel shaped at the top, where a length of chain was attached, as if to hang from some type of support. One of the cages was occupied, pushed against the far wall next to a blazing torch. Or rather, it had been, the occupant was not exactly with them. The yellow bones of the skeleton had become worn and brittle, and in the light of the torch above it, with its hunched stature, cast a flickering shadow across the floor, the skull by some weird natural or man made attempt, stared at the hallway, its jaw open, as if to leer at them as they passed into the room. It was a bit unnerving to say the least, but they brushed it off and moved on.
The left side wall had been cleared up, and a sizable entrance lay broken through the stonework to the other side, man-made structure blending with natural rock formations that lead out into a moss covered passageway, lined with more braziers to provide light as it slowly dipped and suddenly cut off at the corner. Taking a cautious step, Ralof gripped the sides of the hole, moving slowly so as not to trip on the broken stonework. Getting his feet upon the natural stone, he waited for the other two Stormcloaks to cross, and watched as he merely stepped in one stride over the rubble, ducking His head to get through the gap. Ralof turned and began to press forward before he was stopped.
"Hold on, there are voices ahead," He whispered, voice no higher than a slight breeze. "There are two people talking, but I hear four pairs of feet moving around slowly, one of them is wearing heavy greaves, similar to the Imperial officers we've fought. The two voices and the footsteps matching them are just around the bend, but the other pair are farther, but are pacing back and forth. They are patrolling. I would advise you let me advance first." he said it in a way that was offering, but Ralof knew who was more so "In charge" here, Krassus was just allowing him to save face in front of his comrades, and he was thankful for that. Ralof for all his uncertainty of the giant, nodded his head, and watched as He crouched and began to slink forward at a faster pace. It didn't even register that the 8 foot tall man was barely making a sound as he crossed the uneven rock floor. They reached the bend, and He drew His axe to the side, hand laying closer to where the actual handle was. He brushed off the bend and advanced swiftly into the room, the Stormcloaks running after Him.
"I am Vengeance!" He roared, sprinting directly around the corner and into the next room. It was square, much larger than any he had been in yet, and had a small spring passing through the center before it disappeared under ground again. The room was half natural cavern and half man made structure, some old stone flooring and a staircase leading down to the stream that had the same hue as the wild fauna growing around it. The Imperials were an ill sight that He was tiring of, and as He breached the room, His axe was raised to chop the first soldier down. He was right in His assumptions, for there were 2 Imperials across the room, who had, despite the evident fear in their eyes, drawn bows and were fumbling for ammunition. The first to receive his axe however was a simple soldier, and behind him stood yet another officer.
A mighty downward swing as he leaped forward, the axe twirling in His massive palms with a dexterity that was almost unheard of, the weapon seeming more like a paperweight than an actual weapon to Him. The soldier was cleaved, split from rib cage to hip by a rending slash that ejected a stream of blood and sent the unfortunate soul spinning to the ground with an agonized yell. The officer, who by now had drawn his own sword moved forwards towards Him, began to swing, what the man failed to realize however, or rather, overlooked, was that He had not only a longer weapon, but a longer reach as well. midway through the Captain's swing, he was accosted by the back sweep of the axe, splintering into his ankle. The officer let out a shrill scream, unbecoming of a leader of men.
Suddenly there was the thin rubbing sound of wood on wood in His ears. The archers had found their arrows and notched them, and most likely aiming at Him over the Stormcloaks. Instincts kicked in, and with a sudden motion He lunged forward and grabbed the officer, whipping the man around to cover His own unprotected body. Two arrows whizzed through the air, one slamming home into the Captain's neck, and the other, unfortunately slamming into His side, burying itself a few centimeters deep. He snarled, and instead of going to pull out the arrow, flung the metal clad corpse at the bowmen. It was accompanied by an arrow as well.
The body of the officer crossed the small ford instantly, and smashed into one of the bowmen, the other one moving slightly to the side in time. This however was his misfortune, because the stray arrow ended up smashing into his chest, piercing the man's armor. He looked to see Ralof, bow held at the ready, a small pouch of arrows looped on his belt.
"I didn't take you to be a ranged combatant." He spoke softly, His hand moved to the arrow shaft sticking out of His side. Ralof tracked His movement as the two others moved to secure the far side where the two bowmen lay.
"I used to hunt when I was younger, I don't practice too often but at this range it's hard to miss." he said, eyes watching as He gripped the arrow and swiftly pulled it out, amazed how He didn't show discomfort. The arrow thankfully didn't snap, and as he finished removing the object of harm, a small trickle of blood fell from His side, but magically it seemed, congealed and the wound already began to slowly seal. To Ralof's eyes it was magic, but there was no visible usage of mana coming from Him. it was odd. Coming back to his senses, he watched as Krassus threw the arrow to the ground, and followed Him as He rounded the walkway over to the position of the other Stormcloaks, who were currently ensuring that they're enemies had truly met their demise. By systematically slicing all three men's throats. The two rose as He approached, looking at Him, the female opened her mouth to speak.
"We saw you got shot, what happened to the arrow?" she asked.
"I pulled it out." He declared, curious as to why she was wondering.
"Wait, you pulled it out?" now she was definitely curious, "Where's the entry wound?" She pointed at his side, where the arrow had been previously, however, even now, only He could barely see the small scar tissue that was there, she was just generally pointed to where she most likely saw him take the hit.
"I'm rather durable." He said, chuckling slightly. The three of them looked at Him in surprise, did His laughter unnerve them perhaps? It was all in good nature. Shortly enough Ralof let loose a smirk to show that the humor got across. He turned, and the two stormcloaks were smiling as well. The male spoke this time.
"We'll hold here and wait for Ulfric or anyone else who shows up, you two move on ahead and clear the cave for us, yeah?" he said, pointing towards the hallway that was behind them. A raised wooden bridge and lever mechanism sat upon the stone. Ralof nodded, putting his bow on his back. The female spoke as they moved to the beginning of the hall.
"Talos guide you Ralof, and.. " she paused, and He realized she probably never heard His name.
"Krassus." He said. The woman smiled in return.
"You as well Krassus." They turned away, moving towards the entrance they approached from, leaving Himself and Ralof to enter the hall. They halted in front of the mechanism, and He simply reached down and pushed it, the lever yielding to His strength. A moment later, and the wooden bridge slammed down on the far side, leaving a large hole for sunlight to pour in from above. Even though the caves and keep were not exactly dark, the fresh glare of the sun above felt excellent upon His skin. The bridge barely held His weight as they crossed, but as soon as they didn't that familiar roar returned, followed by the sound of falling debris. A moment later, and the hole they crossed under filled with several collapsed supports and stone pieces, destroying the bridge and blocking the way back.
"Damn," Ralof spoke as he turned around at the noise, "they'll have to find another way around. We should keep moving." They turned about, moving to the side as they moved downwards into what was now a complete cave. The stonework faded behind them, and it widened, with the continuous small stream crossing down the middle. The walls were now covered in a low glowing blue, the result of some rather peculiar fungus that had what appear to be feelers straining off of them. They were interesting to Him, and while there were plenty of Unknowns to Him here, these Fungal matters were on their own worthy of discovery. The biggest one was whether they were edible or not. After all, thinking ahead might be useful if they were in this cave for a more than welcome amount of time.
Despite the oddity of the fungus, they moved on, quickly moving down the side of the stream and following it down the cave. moving farther inwards in a straight direction rewarded them with a bit more light from a large entrance that sunlight flew through. As they approached it however they noticed it was a drop off however, the water from the stream falling below for almost four stories below. Sunlight flowed in from a gigantic hole in the earth above, and snow covered the ground and the natural bridge that connected two more entrances that ran across the way from them. While He could most likely jump to the bridge, doubt rested upon the mind about the stability of the rocks, as well as the fact that Ralof would not be able to follow Him. To their right however, was a pathway that led downwards in a slope, most likely leading to the right entrance of the stone bridge.
"That way." He said, pointing down the path. Ralof merely nodded and the duo jogged downwards, cautious of their placement and rounded a sharp turn about, which rewarded them with the crossing. Ralof went first, crossing the snowy bridge with no hesitation, and He was short to follow, listening to the minor, whispered groans of the rock beneath Him. Moving forward they followed the tunnel as it curved back up and to the left, almost turning around before it switched back to the right. Suddenly, the tunnel ended into a small opening, a small hole in the roof pushing in invasive light to reveal an almost door-like opening in the rock that appeared to expand into another lowered open area. Ralof could see something within, but it was His sharp sense that showed Him the webs and large pale eggs resting in the room, and the four, eight legged creatures of fur and chitin that appear to hug the ground. He was somewhat revolted by their appearance, alien in nature with their four eyes and skittering movement. "Ahead, skittering xenos, with four eyes, webs and eggs around."
"Great." Ralof huffed, drawing his axe, "Frostbite spiders, watch yourself, they spit poison that hurts quite a bit, it has a strange paralysis in it to help freeze smaller prey, but for a regular person it only hurts and causes a numb in the limbs, you'll be better off I'm pretty sure, even without armor." He looked at Him, checking the room part he could see. "I bet you they're going to be more in the ceiling waiting to jump down, considering this looks like a nest. Let's split once we enter, so we don't end up getting hit by a stray fling of poison." He said, approaching the slope.
Krassus followed behind, moving quickly to grip His axe. There were four within, but now that he was looking at the holes in the ceiling He assumed each was occupied. A total of ten foes in total, and if these were the largest, it would be easy. He rushed forward off the slope, axe already wound back ready to swing. He broke left and Ralof went right, moving a few paces behind. As they stormed forward there was a screeching sound and preemptively He ducked, two blobs of sickly green webbing flying over His head. As He fell upon the first 'Spider' He split it in half with the axe head, which was a little interesting considering that these things appear to be armored somewhat, perhaps their entire bodies were this weak? He moved from the first and reached the next two as five more descended from the ceiling. With a horizontal swing closer to His own knees, He cleaved the first one and with the body still attached continued the momentum of the swing slamming it into its ally. Both bodies were now filled with an unstoppable momentum, the second one screeching in what he assumed to be fear, and with an extended grip upon the axe, sent them careering into a natural pillar, the bodies crunching in a sickening manner and then falling when He removed the axe.
Ralof was doing well enough, having killed the first two as well, but was about to get overwhelmed by the three other spiders that had come down. A swift swing of the axe and he removed one's forward set of legs, before plating the axe in the screeching thing's head. By some cruel twist of fate however, the axe held fast in the chitin head plate despite his desperate attempts of removing it. The two spiders on his side sought to gain the upper hand upon their prey because of this. One went to leap upon him but was suddenly interrupted by an axe implanted in it's spine, and the other turned around to receive a crippling blow to its head from a balled fist. Ralof finally removed his axe to see the targets dead, and Krassus standing amongst the bodies, not a wound upon Him and His axe dripping with foul dark ichor. "Let us continue." He rumbled, pointing toward an exit upon the left wall.
They passed over the bodies of the frostbites, moving into another tunnel that angled stiffly to the right and downward. The stream resumed from a hole in the wall and the blue fungus returned, lighting their pathway as they continued down the pathway only to find the stream abruptly sliding under a solid piece of stone, leaving the path ahead blocked, peculiar enough however was a set brazier, alight, and a skeleton hunched above it up on a raised platform against the wall. The skeleton had a small tan pouch resting next to it. Ralof spotted it as well.
"Hey, grab that pouch." he pointed at it, "probably has a few Septims that this poor fellow here gathered up." He reached up, snagged the pouch and opened it, the inside of the small pouch revealing several small golden coins that clinked together from the movement. He examined the coins, to find that on one side they had an identical symbol that was upon the Imperials armor, and the other the face of a man that He didn't quite recognize. The coin was embellished at the bottom of the head with small wording. 'Sanctum Imperialis Septum.' it read, but to Him it was once again oddly familiar. He resealed the pouch, and with deft movements attached the small thing to His belt where it joined the potions pouch. He looked down upon his garbing and frowned. He would have to get different clothes soon, because the already shrewd lining was already unravelling before his very eyes at the ankles.
Ralof nodded as the pouch was attached, and in a similar line of thought, spoke. "You can use those to purchase something more presentable than rags to wear when we get to a town or village, wouldn't do you any good with clothes that screamed 'I'm an escaped convict.' especially if the imperials start looking for us."
He looked at the man, not fully understanding the humor within the man's voice. "I am no criminal." He stated, holding His head up high, staring down at the man as they moved down the pathway.
"Never said you were," he replied quickly, "but the Imperials sentenced you to the block, and most good folk round these parts don't wear rags when they're travelling out in the wilds." Nothing more was said on the topic. The tunnel was slowly turning about, akin to a bypass. The curvature ended swiftly however, as the opening appeared and as they stepped out into this massive junction they had re-found the stream and with it, a sizable clearing. There was a problem however. "Hey, hold up." Ralof had spotted it as well, "There's a bear just ahead. I'd rather not tangle it but I have a feeling we won't be able to pass by it without getting noticed. How about I shoot it from a distance?" he finished, pulling out his bow and notching an arrow.
He pulled back, arrow sighting in on the creature, one eye closed as he looked down range. The bear was a good fifty yards away and appeared to be napping, however, it's head wasn't looking at them. He breathed in sharply, and released the arrow, watching it as it zeroed in on the beast's head. It was going to land perfectly. Or so they thought.
At the last second, either by instincts or by luck, the bear raised its head, sending the arrow careering into its shoulder. Needless to say, the bear was not amused by the attack, and let out a mighty roar, rushing towards them even as Ralof notched a second arrow. As it barged towards them he landed the blow in it's chest, but as he went to fire a third shot, fumbled with the arrow, and wasn't able to notch it in time. The bear was nearly upon him when Krassus intervened.
With a mighty roar of his own, He side tackled the bear at an unseen speed, sending His shoulder into and underneath the beast before carrying it toward the small stream. The bear clawed at Him, it's paws slicing His back and drawing blood. In all honesty that only that excited Him, for once find something that could fight back, it did not feel bad to fight the creature like it did to fight the Imperials, at least not in a way he could sense. In the few seconds he deposited the bear, throwing it to the ground, and as it stumbled and rolled to get back on its feet he was already winding back the axe, and with another might yell, released the pent up force into a massive double handed swing upon the beast's neck. With the sound of chopping wood, the spine cracked, and the bear's head sheared clean off it's shoulders. The adrenaline was flowing through Him, and even now, the bleeding on His back had stopped, the skin wounds already healing at an obscene pace despite the visual appearance of the wounds looking deeper than they were. It felt good to fight against nature like that.
"Good kill." Ralof spoke, approaching beside Him. the man was having a bit of trouble breathing, the bear gave him a bit more than a scare most likely. He had put up his bow, and inspected the thing. The wound looked precise and clean, save for the shards of bone that had once been a spine decorating their razor sharp edges through fur, muscle, and flesh like a mad man's painting. It unsettled him how easily the giant had destroyed the body with a single blow, and more than just a little bit, even not being on the receiving end. The worst thing about it however was that he was slowly starting to get used to the utter devastation that the Giant could cause.
War was unfair, and always had been in his opinion, but Ralof felt comfortable that he had somewhat convinced Krassus to join him against the Imperials to escape. He of course knew that they were allies of circumstance, and that it would most likely take much more convincing to garner the Giant's favor in joining the war on the right side. if Krassus did join up, it would be like a blessing from Talos himself. Ralof hadn't said anything, but he had definitely noticed how fast the giant healed, and it wasn't with magic or health potions from what he had seen. The man had the endurance of an ox and the regenerative powers of a bloody frost troll. These thoughts however were for the future, they first had to get out of this damned caved, away from this forsaken fort, and far as possible away from that flying lizard that may or may not have been one of the most dangerous creatures to walk the face of Skyrim, if not the whole known world. Together, the two men moved away from the corpse, and approached the far side of the cave, which led to yet another tunnel. A sharp turn later however and Ralof finally released a sigh of relief.
There, a few yards away, sat a triangular entrance, and from it, came sunlight, snow, and soothing winds. They had finally found the way out.