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The dragonborn and her friends plunge into the ancient tomb of Ustengrav as they search for the horn of Jurgen windcaller, as all forms of enemy move against them.
Kurza is mine
Ashling Ravenmane belongs to Duck-Bot - Hobbyist, Digital Artist | DeviantArt
Ustengrav, the dragonborn, hjaalmarch, morthal and draugr belong to skyrim, Bethesda
HJAALMARCH, MIDDAY
It was cold.
Skyrim was always cold. Nords had a natural resilience to cold, though Kurza's youth in the harsh Wrothgarian mountains had hardened her body to the elements. Although the day was cloudless, and the sun stood high, Hjaalmarch was really cold. While the places they had visited up to this point, except for mountain tops, had been harsh, it wasn't too bad. In Hjaalmarch, however, the ground felt like it consisted solely of ice and snow and the hold was bordered to the north by the sea of Ghosts, and stinging-cold winds blew from the coast up through these areas. The wind also brought a second smell up to Kurza. Swamp-water, tar and Nightshade.
"There's a swamp nearby." Kurza supplied, snorting sharply at the oily smell.
They had a route through the Anthor mountain range, and then towards Morthal. They had to admit, although it wasn't the Throat of the World, the mountains looked impressive. Way to big to just pass over. There seemed to be some routes though since they saw Nordic Ruins on top of some of them. While Macclan, Kurza and Ashling had never been in this region, and Lydia's knowledge of the region was spotty at best, the nord was in awe of the Orc's pathfinding skills. Where they just saw faint imprints in the snow, Kurza could what left the tracks and how fresh they are. They even came within a few dozen feet of a pair of Snowy sabrecats. The predatory feline's faces were spattered with blood and their bellies full, having recently eaten. The carnivores merely gave them a curious look, before turning up their noses with feline arrogance and slinking northwards.
"No matter how big they are..." Breathed Lydia, smirking. "Cat's are all the same."
Ashling found herself mirroring Lydia's smirk. Since acquiring her as a housecarl, Ash was quickly made aware of the older girl's snarky, sarcastic manner. Although not as crude as Kurza's cheeky sense of humor, the Housecarl was always quick with a quip. She then noticed Kurza's gaze had shifted to where the Sabre-cats were. Not at the beasts, but at the trail of bloody footprints they had left. The blood had a strong Breton scent on it, and Kurza beckoned the nords.
"Stay sharp." She growled.
they found the Sabercat's half-eaten kill on the nearby snowbank. Judging by the black, skull-marked robes the man was wearing, he was a necromancer. Kurza rolled the gutted corpse over with her foot, before kneeling down.
"Anything good?" Asked Macclan.
Kurza pulled the Necromancer's coin bag from his belt, tossing it to Macclan as she rummaged through the corpse's things.
"Ashling. Head's up." Kurza grunted, before throwing a book over her shoulder.
Ash caught the book. It was a leatherbound tome, with a symbol on the cover which Ashling instantly recognized. The symbol of conjuration.
"Do you know that spell?" Kurza asked, standing up and wiping her bloody hands on the corpse's robe.
"It's a reanimation spell." Ashling supplied. She opened it ran her fingers over the writing, the arcane text humming with power. Holding the tome with one hand, her free hand glowed purple and the book's text vanished, leaving the book blank and empty. Looking from the spell to the corpse, she then looked at Kurza. "Is its head still attached?"
Kurza looked at the corpse. Although disemboweled and missing an arm, the body still had it's head, albeit slightly chewed.
"More or less."
Facing her hand at the spell, she pushed her focus into the spell and with a thrumming hum, a ball of blue light flew from her hand. It spun through the air and hit the corpse with a blue flash. The body shook and begun to get up. Seeing the corpse rising reminded Kurza of her years of fighting Vampires, and she let out a low growl.
"I've never understood magic." Lydia stated from her horse's saddle, leaning to wave her hand in front of the corpse's glowing, glassy-blue eyes.
"Me neither." Kurza grunted, before looking at Macclan. "You're a smart type. How's magic work?"
Macclan wasn't a mage and had never been one. However, his long years of working alongside mages gave him a firm understanding of the mystical arts.
"Magic works on harnessing the ethereal energies around us." Macclan stated. " Ice magic condenses and freezes water in the air, flame superheats the ethereal energy before sending it forth."
He then drew his sword and gently prodded the corpse's shoulder. "Reanimation spells force energy into dead bodies to move them, as a soul would. And in most cases..." With a flick of the gleaming steel blade, his greatsword sheared through the glowing corpse's neck. Even before it's head could hit the ground, it begun disintegrating. "The spell causes said corpse to crumble apart if damaged enough."
As they continued, the wind begun to pick up. Kurza's eyes looked skyward. "We need to get moving. There's a snowstorm coming."
True to the She-orc's word, the weather was beginning to worsen. The wind begun to howl and pelted them with sleet. The icy pellets stung exposed skin, and Lydia held her shield in front of her face to hide from the oppressing cold.
"Kurza!" Barked Macclan, getting her attention before pointing ahead. She followed his finger to see a ruin up ahead.
Kurza quickly ushered them beneath a stone arch and into the ruin. To their collective relief, the ruin had all four walls, providing a shield against the worst of the wind.
"I know these ruins." Lydia stated, dismounting before checking the small ruin for any draugr. "A warrior named Kjenstag the fast was buried here."
"Get a fire going." Kurza grunted, poking a long-cold fireplace.
The logs were half-frozen, so Kurza tossed them aside and grabbed the firewood that was strapped to Snowhoof, and Lydia helped her arrange them into a neat pile before producing a small piece of steel. Striking a spark, she was eventually able to ignite the wood. Once the campfire was going, they crowded close for the coveted warmth and watched as Lydia set up to cook food. The cold made them hungrier than usual, and the smell of the cooking made their mouths water.
"What's on the menu, Lydia?" Ashling asked
"Snowberry Crostata." She grinned, using her steel dagger to slice the large, steaming pastry into quarters once it was properly baked.
The travelers ate the crostata, and the hot, fruity pastry filled their bellies. Kurza dumped several fallen branches onto the fire to stoke the flames.
"It'll be too dangerous too travel through the blizzard at night." Kurza stated, unfurling her bedroll and wrapping her cloak around herself as she laid down. "We'll move towards Ustengrav tomorrow."
"What do you think the horn looks like?" Asked Lydia. Ashling saw that her housecarl had removed her steel armor to sleep, revealing her powerful, athletic frame.
"It's said to be made of dragon horn." Macclan stated, resting his head on his arm. "And it'll likely be easy to find in such a tomb... apart from traps and many draugr."
______________________________________________________________________
Kurza purred.
Ash didn't know orcs could purr. A few hours after falling asleep, vivid memories of her arrival in Skyrim filled her dreams and spooked her awake. Her attention was caught by Kurza's rattling snore, but smiled as the orcess's breath came out as a cat-like purr. Kurza would occasionally grunt or snarl in her sleep, punctuated by a faint muscle twitch.
"Ashling..." A distant voice whispered.
The young nord shot to her feet at that sound, and her eyes darted around. She saw that her friends were all still sleeping, though Alfsigr was staring at something in the darkness, and nickered lightly.
"What is it, Alfsigr?" She asked as she pulled her gear on. She walked over to the horse and stroked the beast's shoulder and neck, her fingers running through its mane as she followed the horse's line of sight. "You see something?"
The horse nickered, and Ashling looked out of the ruin. Although still dark and cold, the storm had abated so Ashling could see the outline of a grove trees. Leaning against the trunk, was a humanoid shape watching her.
"Wake Kurza if something bad happens. Understand?" Ashling asked. Giving her a look more clever than any horse should, Alfsigr snorted and licked her head.
Thus, Ashling went over to the little group of trees and bushes, but the strange figure had vanished. The plant life in this region was scarce, and only the most resistant plants could grow here. She found some white berries and tasted one. It had a spicy, tangy taste and for some for some reason, she felt warmer.
"Lydia could use these." Ashling thought picked as many berries as possible. Not only could Lydia use them, but they would help in this icy weather.
Once her satchel was full, the girl turned to get back to the others. As she reached the edge of the she felt something thump onto her head and before the Dragonborn could do anything, strong fingers gripped her hair and she was lifted into the air. A second hand gripped her belt and she was hurled into a nearby snowbank several feet away, faceplanting into the fresh powder. With a groan, she spat out a mouth of snow and looked up, turning to see her attacker. She saw an Argonian male, dressed in a black armor with red detailing, and a holster for swords or daggers was on the front. The attacker was equipped with two swords, made out of solid steel. "What do you want?"
The Argonian didn't answer, instead sprinting forwards to attack. His first strike missed, as Ashling rolled out of the way, but he spun and landed a spin-kick to her stomach, hurling her down a steep hill. She landed on her back, and he leapt into the air after her. She rolled to avoid his downwards strike.
"Here. Now your friends won't notice us." He hissed.
Ashling reached for her sword but her hand never found her belt, mentally scolding herself for leaving her weapons at the camp. She noticed a thin film over the blade. Her first thought was that it was some kind of poison. If she was right, then one hit could be enough to kill her.
She dodged the blow. "Listen! I don't want to fight you!"
The attacker took another swing, his blade grazing her armor.
"WULD!"
Ashling used Whirlwind Sprint to get out of the Way. She slowly realized that there wasn't a choice for her. He had blocked her way back to camp. If she would run, he would find her again. He was also faster than her, and much stronger. She had to fight. At least she had her Spells, and thus ranged attacks. Maybe, if she would do it right, she wouldn't have to kill him.
Ashling forced magic into her hand and, calling forth the spell she learnt from a dead mage in Helgen, summoned electricity to her hands. Arcing between her fingers, she sprayed a flurry of lightning at her opponent. Her sparks found their mark in his leg and stomach, sending electricity through his nerves. He seemed to be in pain but wasn't slowing down. The attacker charged forward again. Ashling jumped away, but the blade still hit her hair, slicing off the end of her braid. The poison didn't harm hair, and Ashling quickly swung her foot up into the Argonian's crotch. With a yelp of pain, he held his injured crotch in agony. The blow made him drop his weapon, the blade sinking into the snow.
"NORDIC BITCH!!"
While he was pulling his blade out of the snow, the argonian exposed his back to Ashling. Seizing her chance, she jumped on his back, using the base of his tail as a foothold. Gripping one of the horns on his head, she tried to grab the side of his head to fire sparks at point-blank range. With an enraged, animalistic growl, he reached back and got a hold of her neck, making her gasp as he yanked her off himself and threw her into the snow.
She sunk in a bit and felt something under it... something slippery. Under the snow was ice. As soon as she managed to get up, another strike hit the snow where her head was. Ashling quickly used her flame spell and melted the snow around them. The whole Ice field was exposed. It had the wanted effects, and the attacker had trouble standing up while moving. Ashling however was not only smaller and lighter, but also didn't have to count in the weight of any weapons. This gave her a big advantage, and she knew it.
Ducking under a, rather undirected, swing, she used her sparks again and shot at the foe. Electricity moved through him again, making it even harder to coordinate an attack. His attacks got less and less focused and Ashling slowly got the upper hand in the fight. She then sprayed sparks at his head, blinding him as she slashed at her.
"FUS RO!"
The enemy stumbled back and fell on his back, and she poured flames onto him. Flames began to engulf his legs and burned his feet. Ashling felt how she got more and more angry at him. This guy attacked her while picking berries, tried to kill her and separated her from the others. She slowly approached him, and engulfed his head in flames. He tried to scream, but failed as his body went limb. When the fire stopped, Ashling caught her breath. It took a moment until she could think normally again.
She just murdered someone in rage again, this time slower. Of course, Kurza, Macclan and Lydia had all killed people. He tried to kill her, so was it okay... right? Afterall, she could have killed him quicker. Her mind was unable to decide, even though she actually had prepared herself for that. She should've known this would happen if caught without her weapons, so she started to think about it from time to time. As she realized now, preparing for it didn't help.
Trying to distract herself, she looked through his pockets. Maybe there was a clue why he tried to kill her. Maybe he was a big crime lord, or dangerous murderer. This would make it okay. Maybe. Eventually, she found a little note. The handwriting was atrocious, but she was able to decipher it.
"As instructed, you are to eliminate Ashling Ravenmane by any means necessary. The Black Sacrament has been performed.
Somebody wants this poor fool dead.
We've already received payment for the contract. Failure is not an option.
-Astrid"
This was unsettling at best. Someone wanted her dead. The whole thing with the black sacrament and payment didn't sound good either. And who in Oblivion was Astrid? At least now it was clear that he was a assassin, or bounty hunter.
But still, she killed him horrifically. All kinds of feelings ran through her head right now. From hatred to sadness. And even worse, how would she get back? She couldn't climb the cliff. It was to steep. The other ways were no option either. Of course, they would search for her, but how would they find her? Especially in the snowstorm that was going on right now. Sure, it didn't made it impossible to see anything, but one wasn't able to see very far. Then she had an idea. She looked into the sky and shouted as strong as possible.
"FUS RO!"
The other three were sleeping until Kurza heard the shout. Snapping awake, she saw Ashling wasn't here, but her weapons were. She launched to her feet and was dressed in moments.
"Kurza?" Groaned Macclan, seeing Kurza was up.
"Ashling isn't here." She replied Briskly, grabbing her axes. "Wake Lydia and follow me once you have."
"Where is she?" He asked, waking Lydia.
Kurza was already out of the ruins, carrying a flaming torch as she followed the tracks. Lydia grabbed her weapon but didn't bother with her armor as she and Macclan followed. Behind the plants, they saw holes in the snow. Some were footsteps, one was roughly as big as Ashling. There were too many footprints for one person though, and Kurza knelt close to the ground.
"She was picking berries." She stated, picking up some of the dropped fruit. Supporting herself on her knuckles, she knelt low to the ground and sniffed a footprint. "She was approached from behind. Male Argonian."
She then growled as a bitter, stingy scent reached her nose. "Poison on his blades."
Kurza moved swiftly after the tracks, before seeing a small shape sitting on a nearby ledge. She sprinted towards it and soon caught Ash's scent.
The three followed the direction the shout came from and climbed down a cliff. There she was, sitting on a field of ice. A corpse was right next to her. Lydia and Macclan already guessed what happened as they caught up with her. As soon as they reached her, Kurza put his hand on Ash's shoulder.
She turned around, her eyes reddened from stress.
"What happened?" Asked Kurza.
"Th- This guy att- attacked m-m-me. I tri- tried to defend my- myself. I kil- killed him with savagery."
Kurza raised an eyebrow at this and looked at the corpse. It had burn marks all over it, but the head was burned so bad that the skull was visible.
"By Ysmir." Groaned Macclan with a queasy look. In better lighting, he might've looked as green as Kurza.
The she-orc rolled the charred carcass over. Although it smelt more like a roast than anything still alive, Kurza could clearly see the armor. It was of much better quality than anything a mere thief could find.
"It's okay." Macclan said as he sat down next to Ashling, and patted the dragonborn's back. "You had to do it. Either that or he would have killed you."
"But..." She sighed. "I got angry." When I burned his head, I couldn't control myself. It felt like pure rage took over again."
With that, Ashling felt a pair of powerful arms wrap around her in a hug. "Calm down, sister." Purred Kurza's husky voice. "That was just the stress. Just take a couple of deep breaths.
She did as told, and held up the note to Macclan. "I also found this in his pockets."
Macclan took the note and suddenly looked as if he ran from Morrowind to Markarth.
"What is it?" Kurza asked, smelling Macclan's fear.
"The Dark brotherhood is hunting her." He stated, making the girl's go silent. He then looked at Kurza. "You recognized the Argonian's armor. This isn't the first time?"
"No." The she-orc replied. "A khajiit assassin ambushed outside Riverwood, but I threw her into a river after I killed her.
"And she was wearing the same armor?" He asked, getting a nod from the She-orc. "They'll like send another when they realize the Argonian isn't coming back."
"Then I'll kill them." stated Kurza, her eyes narrowed defiantly.
"And their employers will noti..."
"Then I'll kill them too."
"WE will kill them." Added Lydia
Seeing that these two formidable females feared no servant of sithis, he looked at the contract. "Well...it has to be someone who knows your name."
"The redguard from Whiterun?" Ash suggested.
"I don't think so." Kurza replied. "And I'm not sure it was the Thalmor either. They have their own specialists to carry out assassinations."
"Because they think everything other than the Thalmor is too stupid to do it right?" Asked Lydia, wearing a sneer.
"Exactly."
He was still in thought but had a suspicion. However, he had to get more evidence before he would begin to call names. "No, not really. From now on, we should stay together." He folded the note and put it away, before helping Ashling up.
She wiped the snow of her legs and tried not to look at the body. Suddenly, the snowfall began to disappear. Now having a clear sight, the four could finally see where they were. They stood next to a mountain, and in the distance, there was a little, grey dot in the snow. It was Ustengrav.
"Necromancers up ahead." Kurza growled, her keen eyes spotting a faint blue glow near the ruin. "Go grab the horses and the rest of your gear. I'll keep an eye on the necromancers."
"Be safe, sister." Ash whispered, as she and the other nords slipped away.
It took five minutes for them to return, grab their armor and weapons and ready their horses. They had barely mounted their horses before they heard a booming roar, and an ice spike sailed through the air.
"I guess they've noticed Kurza." Lydia smiled, gently guiding Alfsigr into moving.
They passed back over the hill to see Ustengrav's entrance just in time to see the visceral spray of blood from Kurza swinging her axe into a necromancer's thrall. She caught the thrall's steel war axe, and hurled it at another thrall as it lined her up with it's bow.
"KILL HER!!" Shrieked the necromancer, barking the panicked command at her remaining servant.
She fired ice spikes at the she-orc, but kurza kept her axes buried in her victim to use her as a living shield. The whistle and thunk of a steel arrow made the necromancer's head snap back.
"You are unharmed?" Asked Lydia, her bow drawn.
"Good shot." Grinned Kurza, ripping her axes out of the thrall as it disintegrated.
"They're here in force." Mumbled Ashling. "You don't think they here for the horn?"
"Unlikely." Macclan stated, leading his horse to the nearby stone column. "If the greybeards ancestors built this place, they would've kept it a closely guarded secret."
"Death-mages mostly plunder tombs for magical artefacts." Kurza added, rummaging through the necromancer's pockets. "They'll be here searching for corpses or magic of Nordic ancestors."
Macclan drew his claymore and shoved the door open, the girls close behind him.
"More up ahead" Kurza whispered, sniffing the air. "Several humans...and elves."
They moved through the narrow corridor and found themselves in a large vestibule chamber. Multiple mages were working around it, and the four took cover behind a massive fallen pillar.
"These thralls of yours are slower than argonians in a blizzard." A mage said, his voice laced with a strong imperial accent.
"Feel free to grab a pick and help them out." A female Altmer hissed back. "I prefer not to sully myself with physical labor."
'This could turn out to be a problem.' Thought Ashling. It sounded like the necromancers were having trouble getting in. She peeked over the rock to see the mages hadn't noticed yet. "You think there are Draugr inside?"
"In every one of your people's tombs, there's countless bonewalkers." Kurza hissed back. "And at least one madman at the bottom of the barrow."
"How do you know?" Asked Lydia
"Past experience"
"There goes another one." Hissed the Imperial Necromancer, as one of the raised corpses shuddered and faceplanted against the stone floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
"Bah. Weak-Willed rabble. Even dead they're almost useless." The altmer replied. A ball of blue magicka appeared between her fingers, and she fired it at the corpse.
"They seem less intelligent each time you raise them, if that's even possible." The male one replied in a mocking voice as the corpse stood back up.
"As long as they can swing a pickaxe where I tell them, they're as smart as we need them to be."
A series of crashes deeper in the ruin made them both turn to look deeper into the ruin.
"You hear that? The others must have found something."
"We'd better go see." The mage gestured to a couple of dead bandits next to them. "These can tend to themselves for a few minutes."
As the mages left, the bandits returned to chipping away at a collapsed tunnel with their pickaxes. A faint blue aura surrounded them.
"Poor bastards." Kurza muttered.
"Should we take them out?" Lydia asked, readying an arrow.
Kurza nodded and grabbed her own bow. "On the count of three."
With one graceful move, Kurza reached over her shoulder and smoothly readied an arrow. She held her breath, and a couple of seconds later, the arrow soared through the air. Hitting one of them wasn't too hard, as the zombies just stood there. The arrow pierced the zombie's chest, and he fell over.
The other one drew an iron war-axe and charged at the source of the arrow. He didn't come far though, as Lydia's arrow struck his shoulder. The impact made him stagger and Kurza's fist slammed into his face with a wet thud.
To their surprise, as he died, he muttered something. "Thank… you…"
"Okay... that was messed up." said Ashling
The corpse began to evaporate into a pile of ash. "Huh. Seems like being a zombie is torture. And the bodies evaporate, for some reason."
"It is." Muttered Kurza, pulling her arrows out of her slain enemy and returning them to the quiver.
"I guess." Lydia pulled her arrow out of the second ash pile. The end of it was stained red. "Let's go."
They were about to head deeper, when Kurza stopped moving and sniffed the air. The smell of blood was suddenly strong. "Blood up ahead. Stay sharp."
The orcess took the lead, her axes drawn and ready as she walked down the corridor the necromancers went down. They turned a corner, and were met by the death and destruction. Scattered across the ground were the corpses of bandits, necromancers and draugr. The walls were covered in burnmarks, and blood was splattered around the corpses and floor. One of the bandits still had a sword sticking in his body. There was no doubt that a battle took place here, and it apparently left few, maybe even no survivors.
They tried not to look too much at the massacre and followed the only way. A bit further in, the walls opened up to two chambers.
"We'll check for supplies." Lydia muttered, keeping her voice low as she looked to Macclan.
Lydia slipped into the room to the left, where they found a couple of red-filled bottles she recognized as Healing potions. Meanwhile, Macclan headed into the right room, and grabbed the two books that were laying around in there, recognizing them as Spell tomes. As they did, Kurza skulked forwards with Ash and peeked around the corner to the next hallway.
This chamber has also been place of a previous battle, as some dead draugr and a mage were on the ground. The tunnel opened to a short corridor, where two draugr stood over the bodies of two dead necromancers. They noticed the still living intruders and drew their weapons, snarling as they ran forwards. The first one was hit by sparks of lightning, and stumbled backwards.
"Unslaad Krosis." growled the other one as it ran towards Kurza with its weapon raised.
Kurza blocked the sword with her axe and kicked his leg out from under him. As he fell down, she tried to decapitate him, but the undead dodged the blade. Not that it helped him, as she grabbed his face with her free hand and the next swing severed his shoulder and upper body. The other one got hit by an arrow to the forehead, which whistled past Kurza.
"You are learning quickly." She smiled, seeing Ashling had fired the arrow.
"Hehe, thanks." replied the young nord, blushing lightly as she dropped her commandeered draugr bow. "Honestly, it isn't that hard. Those things rarely use any tactic besides hitting."
"Do not allow your experience with draugr weigh your judgement of other foes." Macclan said, entering the room. "They may lack intelligence, but many warriors have died for underestimating their enemies."
"Agreed." Kurza added, nodding to the older nord as she rummaged through some burial urns. "Vampires are far more cunning, devious and sly than any Draugr. To face them and survive, I had to match them in intelligence and battle."
As the friends entered the next room, a draugr jumped out from a sarcophagus but Kurza swiftly decapitated it. Another one patrolled the other side of the room and a mighty blow from Macclan's greatsword bisected it, parting it from shoulder to hip and sending it's ragged garments across the chamber. They moved up the stairs and crossed the stone bridge that let to the next portion of the tomb. Kurza scooped up a burial urn to retrieve the ancient gold nugget from it, before hurling it at a draugr on the overpass above them. The force of the impact shattered the urn, and knocked the draugr off the ledge. He hit the ground with a clanking thud, going still.
After avoiding some traps, the way let them on a bridge overlooking a feasting hall, and two more draugr patrolled the room. Kurza jumped down and the weight of a mighty she-orc flattened the bonewalker with a dusty crunch. The other draugr barely drew his weapon before her axe slammed into it's neck.
"Something smells." Growled Kurza, her firey eyes scanning the room. She saw no other threats, though her nose detected the scent of oil.
The next room was filled with three more Draugr. In the middle of the room was an oilslick, which Ash promptly ignited with magic. The Draugr, caught in the flames, thrashed around as their undead flesh disintegrated in the heat. Macclan's attention was then drawn to a smaller chamber and moved to enter, where he found two healing potions and a soul gem, all sitting on an enchanter. With a smile, he turned to Ashling.
"What is it?" asked the Dragonborn, unconsciously checking if she had any muck or blood on her face. She followed his gaze to her belt, where her dagger was strapped. "My dagger?"
"Pass it over." He beckoned. With a shrug, she slipped her blade from its hilt. Its sleek elven blade glimmered in the flickering fire light. Ash passed it to him, and he flicked through a journal he produced from his travel bag.
"What are you doing?" This time, Kurza was the one to ask. She was standing next to the orcess as Macclan took out a blank scroll and a nub of Charcoal, and begun marking the scroll with runes. charcoal was not the best thing to use, but the only option right now.
"He's enchanting Ashling's blade." Lydia chirped. Macclan put the shimmering dagger in the middle of the table. "When I was a girl, I would often watch Farengar when he enchanted things for the people of Whiterun."
"I didn't realize you were a magic-user." Kurza stated.
"I'm not. Enchanting is merely a hobby of mine which I'm skilled in" He said, glancing across the room to the nearby shelf where his keen eyes spotted a lumpy blue-pink crystal. "Pass me that Soul gem."
Kurza grabbed the grand soul gem from it's place on it's shelf, and passed it to Macclan. During her time in the Illiac bay, many of the weapons kurza used were enchanted to be particularly lethal against Vampires and other undead. Though Kurza had no magical aptitude, she knew magic was always a useful weapon to have. Placing the dagger on the enchanting table, he then took the glowing soul gem and laid both it and the dagger on the scroll of paper. A bright light filled the room, and the gem seemed to flow into the blade.
"Here you go, Ashling." He smiled, returning the blade to her. It now bore a light shimmer, as if dipped in water, and radiated a light green hue. "Now your Dagger is enchanted. With every slash, it will leech the stamina from your enemies, provided the blow isn't enough to kill them."
"Thank you." Ashling smiled, as she put the dagger away.
Macclan took the Journal back and returned his gear to his travel bag.
They continued their way into the main chamber. Their mouths stood open at the sight. It was a giant cavern. Natural light shined through the ceiling, although a bit red from the setting sun. Trees and other plants grew around a little pond on the bottom. They engulfed a Word Wall. Other than that, the tomb was open to the cavern. It seemed like the builders had just took half of it and changed it into a grave.
Several skeletons patrolled the area, armed with ancient nord weapons. Against four cunning and powerful warriors, their bones were soon scattered and shattered across the chamber as the still-living intruders.
"Wonder was this one says." Grunted Kurza, leading the way down a descending a ridge of rock.
They came to the wall. Although undetectable to all other eyes and ears, Ashling could see the humming runes glowing brightly, and hear the Draconic chanting.
Feim...Fade.
Once again, Ashling heard the words within her mind.
"Nonvul bron...dahmaan dar rok..." She muttered, echoing the voices she heard in her mind. "Do fin fodiiz Bormah..."
The glow soon faded from the runes, and Ashling turned to her companions.
"What does this one do?" Asked Lydia.
"Let's try out." Ash replied, sucking in a breath. "FEIM!"
He began to glow blue and became transparent, like when sunlight shines through ice.
"So...You glow..." Macclan joked. "Handy."
"Are you feeling any different?" Kurza asked, while kneeling down at the water, cleaning her axes.
"Not really." As soon as it came, the glow disappeared again. "Maybe we should ask the Greybeards once we get back."
"You should hone them against the next enemies we find." Kurza remarked, flicking the water from her axe as she stood up.
Kurza lead the way back up, moving to a different level. The way was blocked by a couple of gates, with three large rune stones in front of them. This was probably another puzzle. Macclan wanted to take a closer look at the gates and moved past the stones. When he passed the first one, a gate opened. Shortly after, it closed again. He stepped back, and the gate opened again, only to close again.
"We need to be fast." He said to himself. He stepped back and tried to sprint through the gates. He was not fast enough though, and ran against a closed gate. This brought out a chuckle from everyone.
"Perhaps Ashling should use her whirlwind shout." Kurza suggested, an amused smirk on her face as she pulled Macclan to his feet.
"WULD!" Ash barked.
shee dashed pass the stones and through the first two gates. Here, a pull chain hung on the wall. She pulled it and the gates opened, her friends applauding her as they went into the new area.
"Wait..." Grunted Kurza, sniffing the air. "Spiders."
The big room was completely covered in grey plates and cobwebs, and a clicking hiss was all the warning they got. The size of wolves, three spiders dropped from the ceiling. The first one lunged at Lydia as she drew her sword, but she lifted her shield to block it's fangs from biting into her arm. It's vicious chelicerae thudded against her shield, allowing her to backhand it upwards, and plunge her sword into its exposed face. It hissed and pushed itself on further in it's frenzied attempt to slash at her.
"Hang on, lass!" Macclan barked. He swung his claymore through the creature's legs, slicing it's hairy appendages out from under it before bringing the weapon around to cleave it in half. "You okay?"
"Aye." She nodded, turning to watch Kurza.
Kurza used her axes to grapple with her own opponent. Hooking its slashing limbs with the blades of her elven War-axes, she yanked them aside and swung her foot up to kick it in the head. The force of the kick knocked it backwards, and Kurza slammed into it with her shoulder to knock it onto it's back. Slamming both her axes into it's underside, she yanked them down and out, ripping its innards out and splattering green gore across the floor.
"Get this thing off me!" Ash barked, thrusting her own blades into the underside of the third spider which had knocked her onto her rump. Impaled on her gleaming ebony blade, she kept it at a distance as she stabbed her dagger into it over and over. With every thrust, wisps of green light travelled from the spider and into the blade, flowing into Ashling. The spider's struggling slackened, before a massive blow from Kurza splattered its face and sent green blood spraying over Ashling.
"Get this thing off me!" She yelped, as the spider flopped onto her legs. Kurza grabbed the spider and hefted it up, easily throwing it aside. Ashling was covered in green blood. "Ew. This, this is just disgusting."
"Come now, my thane. Green actually fits you." Lydia joked, a mischievous smirk on her face.
"Nothing wrong with green skin." Kurza added, holding her hand out to the small nord.
"Oh haha. Really funny(!)" She grumbled, poking her tongue out at her housecarl as Kurza yanked her to her feet, and begun using her cloak to wipe off as the spider guts. "Did anyone else notice the energy leaving the monster?"
"That was the spider's stamina." Macclan replied. "It's why you could keep stabbing and stabbing and not get tired."
"Never understood draining magic." Kurza shrugged, leaning over one spider as she used her dagger to slice open one spider's chelicerae. "Poisons are easier to find and can be used on both prey and enemies."
"I'll scout ahead." Lydia stated, grimacing as she listened to the wet crunching of Kurza's work. "I'll make sure there's no ambush, my thane."
Keeping her weapons drawn, Lydia managed only a few steps before feeling a strong hand grip her shoulder.
"Wait, Lydia. Look at the ground." Kurza grunted, pointing at the floor as she stopped Lydia. About two feet in from of them, the smooth stone they were currently standing on ended, dropping down slightly to a wide platform of oddly carved tiles. "Watch."
Letting go of Lydia's shoulder, Kurza picked up the disemboweled spider carcass and hurled it onto the tiles. The carcass landed and almost instantly, gouts of intense fire shot from the floor and blasted over the spider. The smell, similar to burning hair and cooked crab, soon filled the chamber.
"Ah...I see." Gulped Lydia, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"It took a second to activate. We'll have to be fast." Stated Kurza. All of them thought for a second.
"Okay, let's try it."
"Run!!"
With a bark from the orc, the four ran through the room as fast as they could as flames roared behind them, erupting upwards. The entire plate-covered part of the room was burning, and the cobwebs along the walls soon ignited.
They took a moment to catch their breath and went into the next room, which was obviously the final one.
"Wait." Growled Kurza, holding her arm out in front of the nords, sniffed the musty tomb air. "I can smell something. Something alive."
They cautiously descended the stairs, weapons at the ready. This chamber was large and spacious, forming a walkway through two large pools of shallow water As they passed two pillars at the start of the walkway, giant statues rose from the water on the sides of the bridge. The friends approached the sarcophagus nervously. To their shock, the draugr were already dead.
"Someone's been here." Muttered Macclan, seeing Kurza pull a steel arrow from a fallen draugr. "Any clues?"
"No." she hissed, snorting at the smell. "Strong scent of Lavender. Whoever it is wanted to hide their smell." She glanced at the largest sarcophagus. "Shit..."
Following the orcess's gaze, the nords looked at what had her attention and Ash felt her stomach drop. Instead of the horn, there was a letter. Kurza snatched it up and opened it, holding it so the nords could read it with her.
"Dragonborn
I need to speak to you. Urgently.
Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.
- A friend."
Everyone had a plain, disappointed expression on their face.
Kurza noticed that Ash's eyes were twitching.
"Are you..." She shouted furious. "...fucking kidding me?!" Everyone looked at her in shock. "We went through all of this bullshit, just for a piece of paper? Seriously?" She noticed the faces her friends made as Kurza rested her hands on her shoulders. "What?"
"Your shouts made the chamber shake" Kurza stated, pointing at the small pieces of stonework falling from the ceiling.
She sighed and tried to calm down. "Sorry. It's just the stress."
"So we're heading back to Riverwood?" Lydia asked.
"This stinks of a trap." Kurza rumbled, folding her arms. "The necromancers were massacred by this tomb's bonewalkers, so whomever came this deep...somehow without having to kill all the draugr, is clearly far beyond the skill of any mere adventurer..."
"Meaning it could be something worse." Macclan added.
"A test by the greybeards, perhaps?" Asked Lydia. "Only they know about this quest."
"Possibly." Kurza answered, and shifted her attention to the note "So, according to the note, we should get back to Riverwood but we must be cautious...Word of Ashling's victory at Whiterun would've spread by now."
She then glanced to a disheartened Ashling. Putting her muscular arm around the smaller girl's shoulders, she gave her a friendly squeeze. "Hey...Chin up, sister. We'll get the horn."
"How will we know if they even have it?"
"We'll stuff the old man's claymore up their ass." She replied, making Ash giggle as the orc pointed at Macclan.
"That's your nickname?" asked Lydia, an amused smile on her face.
Macclan rolled her eyes. "I mentioned my age once to the orc...
"Oh don't be so dour." Kurza chimed, pulling him close with her free arm. "You are still a strong, honorable and courageous warrior." She tapped her knuckles against his steel plate armor. "I know how heavy steel is, and most of your weight is muscle and strength."
"Kurza, I..."
"You should never doubt yourself, Macclan." Kurza continued, her tone now more serious. "Age isn't weakness. It is strength. It means you faced many trials and survived them, stronger and wiser for the experience. I've seen you. You are strong, just, courageous and a mighty warrior."
Macclan was thankful he had such a scruffy beard as it hid his slight blush. If Kurza detected his heart speed up a little, she didn't mention it before Lydia cleared her throat.
"Hey!" She barked, beckoning them over to a door behind the shrine. "I think this is the way out."
Kurza took the time to pick the gems and gold nuggets from the nearby offering chest before they followed, a narrow corridor bringing them back to the site of the battle between the necromancers and draugr. Kurza had only opened the door a crack before Alfsigr and Snowhoof pushed their way in, the wind howling behind them and both animals lightly peppered in snow.
"Damn Skyrim weather." Mumbled Macclan, before smiling as Snowhoof nuzzled his head.
"We'll make camp in here." Kurza stated, bringing in the horses and shutting the door.
The wind's howling could still be faintly heard, even within the tomb. Kurza barricaded the entrance with the bodies of some dead draugr before they set up around the fireplace.
"This place is creepy, but it's better than sleeping outside." Lydia mumbled, wiping the snow from the horses.
They sat by a lit brazier to keep warm. As Kurza sat on a flat stone, Ashling laid back against the She-orc's back. Although safe, her mind was far away with her gaze as one question repeated itself in her mind.
"Am I worthy?"
END_____________________________________________
The dragonborn and her friends plunge into the ancient tomb of Ustengrav as they search for the horn of Jurgen windcaller, as all forms of enemy move against them.
Kurza is mine
Ashling Ravenmane belongs to Duck-Bot - Hobbyist, Digital Artist | DeviantArt
Ustengrav, the dragonborn, hjaalmarch, morthal and draugr belong to skyrim, Bethesda
Kurza is mine
Ashling Ravenmane belongs to Duck-Bot - Hobbyist, Digital Artist | DeviantArt
Ustengrav, the dragonborn, hjaalmarch, morthal and draugr belong to skyrim, Bethesda
HJAALMARCH, MIDDAY
It was cold.
Skyrim was always cold. Nords had a natural resilience to cold, though Kurza's youth in the harsh Wrothgarian mountains had hardened her body to the elements. Although the day was cloudless, and the sun stood high, Hjaalmarch was really cold. While the places they had visited up to this point, except for mountain tops, had been harsh, it wasn't too bad. In Hjaalmarch, however, the ground felt like it consisted solely of ice and snow and the hold was bordered to the north by the sea of Ghosts, and stinging-cold winds blew from the coast up through these areas. The wind also brought a second smell up to Kurza. Swamp-water, tar and Nightshade.
"There's a swamp nearby." Kurza supplied, snorting sharply at the oily smell.
They had a route through the Anthor mountain range, and then towards Morthal. They had to admit, although it wasn't the Throat of the World, the mountains looked impressive. Way to big to just pass over. There seemed to be some routes though since they saw Nordic Ruins on top of some of them. While Macclan, Kurza and Ashling had never been in this region, and Lydia's knowledge of the region was spotty at best, the nord was in awe of the Orc's pathfinding skills. Where they just saw faint imprints in the snow, Kurza could what left the tracks and how fresh they are. They even came within a few dozen feet of a pair of Snowy sabrecats. The predatory feline's faces were spattered with blood and their bellies full, having recently eaten. The carnivores merely gave them a curious look, before turning up their noses with feline arrogance and slinking northwards.
"No matter how big they are..." Breathed Lydia, smirking. "Cat's are all the same."
Ashling found herself mirroring Lydia's smirk. Since acquiring her as a housecarl, Ash was quickly made aware of the older girl's snarky, sarcastic manner. Although not as crude as Kurza's cheeky sense of humor, the Housecarl was always quick with a quip. She then noticed Kurza's gaze had shifted to where the Sabre-cats were. Not at the beasts, but at the trail of bloody footprints they had left. The blood had a strong Breton scent on it, and Kurza beckoned the nords.
"Stay sharp." She growled.
they found the Sabercat's half-eaten kill on the nearby snowbank. Judging by the black, skull-marked robes the man was wearing, he was a necromancer. Kurza rolled the gutted corpse over with her foot, before kneeling down.
"Anything good?" Asked Macclan.
Kurza pulled the Necromancer's coin bag from his belt, tossing it to Macclan as she rummaged through the corpse's things.
"Ashling. Head's up." Kurza grunted, before throwing a book over her shoulder.
Ash caught the book. It was a leatherbound tome, with a symbol on the cover which Ashling instantly recognized. The symbol of conjuration.
"Do you know that spell?" Kurza asked, standing up and wiping her bloody hands on the corpse's robe.
"It's a reanimation spell." Ashling supplied. She opened it ran her fingers over the writing, the arcane text humming with power. Holding the tome with one hand, her free hand glowed purple and the book's text vanished, leaving the book blank and empty. Looking from the spell to the corpse, she then looked at Kurza. "Is its head still attached?"
Kurza looked at the corpse. Although disemboweled and missing an arm, the body still had it's head, albeit slightly chewed.
"More or less."
Facing her hand at the spell, she pushed her focus into the spell and with a thrumming hum, a ball of blue light flew from her hand. It spun through the air and hit the corpse with a blue flash. The body shook and begun to get up. Seeing the corpse rising reminded Kurza of her years of fighting Vampires, and she let out a low growl.
"I've never understood magic." Lydia stated from her horse's saddle, leaning to wave her hand in front of the corpse's glowing, glassy-blue eyes.
"Me neither." Kurza grunted, before looking at Macclan. "You're a smart type. How's magic work?"
Macclan wasn't a mage and had never been one. However, his long years of working alongside mages gave him a firm understanding of the mystical arts.
"Magic works on harnessing the ethereal energies around us." Macclan stated. " Ice magic condenses and freezes water in the air, flame superheats the ethereal energy before sending it forth."
He then drew his sword and gently prodded the corpse's shoulder. "Reanimation spells force energy into dead bodies to move them, as a soul would. And in most cases..." With a flick of the gleaming steel blade, his greatsword sheared through the glowing corpse's neck. Even before it's head could hit the ground, it begun disintegrating. "The spell causes said corpse to crumble apart if damaged enough."
As they continued, the wind begun to pick up. Kurza's eyes looked skyward. "We need to get moving. There's a snowstorm coming."
True to the She-orc's word, the weather was beginning to worsen. The wind begun to howl and pelted them with sleet. The icy pellets stung exposed skin, and Lydia held her shield in front of her face to hide from the oppressing cold.
"Kurza!" Barked Macclan, getting her attention before pointing ahead. She followed his finger to see a ruin up ahead.
Kurza quickly ushered them beneath a stone arch and into the ruin. To their collective relief, the ruin had all four walls, providing a shield against the worst of the wind.
"I know these ruins." Lydia stated, dismounting before checking the small ruin for any draugr. "A warrior named Kjenstag the fast was buried here."
"Get a fire going." Kurza grunted, poking a long-cold fireplace.
The logs were half-frozen, so Kurza tossed them aside and grabbed the firewood that was strapped to Snowhoof, and Lydia helped her arrange them into a neat pile before producing a small piece of steel. Striking a spark, she was eventually able to ignite the wood. Once the campfire was going, they crowded close for the coveted warmth and watched as Lydia set up to cook food. The cold made them hungrier than usual, and the smell of the cooking made their mouths water.
"What's on the menu, Lydia?" Ashling asked
"Snowberry Crostata." She grinned, using her steel dagger to slice the large, steaming pastry into quarters once it was properly baked.
The travelers ate the crostata, and the hot, fruity pastry filled their bellies. Kurza dumped several fallen branches onto the fire to stoke the flames.
"It'll be too dangerous too travel through the blizzard at night." Kurza stated, unfurling her bedroll and wrapping her cloak around herself as she laid down. "We'll move towards Ustengrav tomorrow."
"What do you think the horn looks like?" Asked Lydia. Ashling saw that her housecarl had removed her steel armor to sleep, revealing her powerful, athletic frame.
"It's said to be made of dragon horn." Macclan stated, resting his head on his arm. "And it'll likely be easy to find in such a tomb... apart from traps and many draugr."
______________________________________________________________________
Kurza purred.
Ash didn't know orcs could purr. A few hours after falling asleep, vivid memories of her arrival in Skyrim filled her dreams and spooked her awake. Her attention was caught by Kurza's rattling snore, but smiled as the orcess's breath came out as a cat-like purr. Kurza would occasionally grunt or snarl in her sleep, punctuated by a faint muscle twitch.
"Ashling..." A distant voice whispered.
The young nord shot to her feet at that sound, and her eyes darted around. She saw that her friends were all still sleeping, though Alfsigr was staring at something in the darkness, and nickered lightly.
"What is it, Alfsigr?" She asked as she pulled her gear on. She walked over to the horse and stroked the beast's shoulder and neck, her fingers running through its mane as she followed the horse's line of sight. "You see something?"
The horse nickered, and Ashling looked out of the ruin. Although still dark and cold, the storm had abated so Ashling could see the outline of a grove trees. Leaning against the trunk, was a humanoid shape watching her.
"Wake Kurza if something bad happens. Understand?" Ashling asked. Giving her a look more clever than any horse should, Alfsigr snorted and licked her head.
Thus, Ashling went over to the little group of trees and bushes, but the strange figure had vanished. The plant life in this region was scarce, and only the most resistant plants could grow here. She found some white berries and tasted one. It had a spicy, tangy taste and for some for some reason, she felt warmer.
"Lydia could use these." Ashling thought picked as many berries as possible. Not only could Lydia use them, but they would help in this icy weather.
Once her satchel was full, the girl turned to get back to the others. As she reached the edge of the she felt something thump onto her head and before the Dragonborn could do anything, strong fingers gripped her hair and she was lifted into the air. A second hand gripped her belt and she was hurled into a nearby snowbank several feet away, faceplanting into the fresh powder. With a groan, she spat out a mouth of snow and looked up, turning to see her attacker. She saw an Argonian male, dressed in a black armor with red detailing, and a holster for swords or daggers was on the front. The attacker was equipped with two swords, made out of solid steel. "What do you want?"
The Argonian didn't answer, instead sprinting forwards to attack. His first strike missed, as Ashling rolled out of the way, but he spun and landed a spin-kick to her stomach, hurling her down a steep hill. She landed on her back, and he leapt into the air after her. She rolled to avoid his downwards strike.
"Here. Now your friends won't notice us." He hissed.
Ashling reached for her sword but her hand never found her belt, mentally scolding herself for leaving her weapons at the camp. She noticed a thin film over the blade. Her first thought was that it was some kind of poison. If she was right, then one hit could be enough to kill her.
She dodged the blow. "Listen! I don't want to fight you!"
The attacker took another swing, his blade grazing her armor.
"WULD!"
Ashling used Whirlwind Sprint to get out of the Way. She slowly realized that there wasn't a choice for her. He had blocked her way back to camp. If she would run, he would find her again. He was also faster than her, and much stronger. She had to fight. At least she had her Spells, and thus ranged attacks. Maybe, if she would do it right, she wouldn't have to kill him.
Ashling forced magic into her hand and, calling forth the spell she learnt from a dead mage in Helgen, summoned electricity to her hands. Arcing between her fingers, she sprayed a flurry of lightning at her opponent. Her sparks found their mark in his leg and stomach, sending electricity through his nerves. He seemed to be in pain but wasn't slowing down. The attacker charged forward again. Ashling jumped away, but the blade still hit her hair, slicing off the end of her braid. The poison didn't harm hair, and Ashling quickly swung her foot up into the Argonian's crotch. With a yelp of pain, he held his injured crotch in agony. The blow made him drop his weapon, the blade sinking into the snow.
"NORDIC BITCH!!"
While he was pulling his blade out of the snow, the argonian exposed his back to Ashling. Seizing her chance, she jumped on his back, using the base of his tail as a foothold. Gripping one of the horns on his head, she tried to grab the side of his head to fire sparks at point-blank range. With an enraged, animalistic growl, he reached back and got a hold of her neck, making her gasp as he yanked her off himself and threw her into the snow.
She sunk in a bit and felt something under it... something slippery. Under the snow was ice. As soon as she managed to get up, another strike hit the snow where her head was. Ashling quickly used her flame spell and melted the snow around them. The whole Ice field was exposed. It had the wanted effects, and the attacker had trouble standing up while moving. Ashling however was not only smaller and lighter, but also didn't have to count in the weight of any weapons. This gave her a big advantage, and she knew it.
Ducking under a, rather undirected, swing, she used her sparks again and shot at the foe. Electricity moved through him again, making it even harder to coordinate an attack. His attacks got less and less focused and Ashling slowly got the upper hand in the fight. She then sprayed sparks at his head, blinding him as she slashed at her.
"FUS RO!"
The enemy stumbled back and fell on his back, and she poured flames onto him. Flames began to engulf his legs and burned his feet. Ashling felt how she got more and more angry at him. This guy attacked her while picking berries, tried to kill her and separated her from the others. She slowly approached him, and engulfed his head in flames. He tried to scream, but failed as his body went limb. When the fire stopped, Ashling caught her breath. It took a moment until she could think normally again.
She just murdered someone in rage again, this time slower. Of course, Kurza, Macclan and Lydia had all killed people. He tried to kill her, so was it okay... right? Afterall, she could have killed him quicker. Her mind was unable to decide, even though she actually had prepared herself for that. She should've known this would happen if caught without her weapons, so she started to think about it from time to time. As she realized now, preparing for it didn't help.
Trying to distract herself, she looked through his pockets. Maybe there was a clue why he tried to kill her. Maybe he was a big crime lord, or dangerous murderer. This would make it okay. Maybe. Eventually, she found a little note. The handwriting was atrocious, but she was able to decipher it.
"As instructed, you are to eliminate Ashling Ravenmane by any means necessary. The Black Sacrament has been performed.
Somebody wants this poor fool dead.
We've already received payment for the contract. Failure is not an option.
-Astrid"
This was unsettling at best. Someone wanted her dead. The whole thing with the black sacrament and payment didn't sound good either. And who in Oblivion was Astrid? At least now it was clear that he was a assassin, or bounty hunter.
But still, she killed him horrifically. All kinds of feelings ran through her head right now. From hatred to sadness. And even worse, how would she get back? She couldn't climb the cliff. It was to steep. The other ways were no option either. Of course, they would search for her, but how would they find her? Especially in the snowstorm that was going on right now. Sure, it didn't made it impossible to see anything, but one wasn't able to see very far. Then she had an idea. She looked into the sky and shouted as strong as possible.
"FUS RO!"
The other three were sleeping until Kurza heard the shout. Snapping awake, she saw Ashling wasn't here, but her weapons were. She launched to her feet and was dressed in moments.
"Kurza?" Groaned Macclan, seeing Kurza was up.
"Ashling isn't here." She replied Briskly, grabbing her axes. "Wake Lydia and follow me once you have."
"Where is she?" He asked, waking Lydia.
Kurza was already out of the ruins, carrying a flaming torch as she followed the tracks. Lydia grabbed her weapon but didn't bother with her armor as she and Macclan followed. Behind the plants, they saw holes in the snow. Some were footsteps, one was roughly as big as Ashling. There were too many footprints for one person though, and Kurza knelt close to the ground.
"She was picking berries." She stated, picking up some of the dropped fruit. Supporting herself on her knuckles, she knelt low to the ground and sniffed a footprint. "She was approached from behind. Male Argonian."
She then growled as a bitter, stingy scent reached her nose. "Poison on his blades."
Kurza moved swiftly after the tracks, before seeing a small shape sitting on a nearby ledge. She sprinted towards it and soon caught Ash's scent.
The three followed the direction the shout came from and climbed down a cliff. There she was, sitting on a field of ice. A corpse was right next to her. Lydia and Macclan already guessed what happened as they caught up with her. As soon as they reached her, Kurza put his hand on Ash's shoulder.
She turned around, her eyes reddened from stress.
"What happened?" Asked Kurza.
"Th- This guy att- attacked m-m-me. I tri- tried to defend my- myself. I kil- killed him with savagery."
Kurza raised an eyebrow at this and looked at the corpse. It had burn marks all over it, but the head was burned so bad that the skull was visible.
"By Ysmir." Groaned Macclan with a queasy look. In better lighting, he might've looked as green as Kurza.
The she-orc rolled the charred carcass over. Although it smelt more like a roast than anything still alive, Kurza could clearly see the armor. It was of much better quality than anything a mere thief could find.
"It's okay." Macclan said as he sat down next to Ashling, and patted the dragonborn's back. "You had to do it. Either that or he would have killed you."
"But..." She sighed. "I got angry." When I burned his head, I couldn't control myself. It felt like pure rage took over again."
With that, Ashling felt a pair of powerful arms wrap around her in a hug. "Calm down, sister." Purred Kurza's husky voice. "That was just the stress. Just take a couple of deep breaths.
She did as told, and held up the note to Macclan. "I also found this in his pockets."
Macclan took the note and suddenly looked as if he ran from Morrowind to Markarth.
"What is it?" Kurza asked, smelling Macclan's fear.
"The Dark brotherhood is hunting her." He stated, making the girl's go silent. He then looked at Kurza. "You recognized the Argonian's armor. This isn't the first time?"
"No." The she-orc replied. "A khajiit assassin ambushed outside Riverwood, but I threw her into a river after I killed her.
"And she was wearing the same armor?" He asked, getting a nod from the She-orc. "They'll like send another when they realize the Argonian isn't coming back."
"Then I'll kill them." stated Kurza, her eyes narrowed defiantly.
"And their employers will noti..."
"Then I'll kill them too."
"WE will kill them." Added Lydia
Seeing that these two formidable females feared no servant of sithis, he looked at the contract. "Well...it has to be someone who knows your name."
"The redguard from Whiterun?" Ash suggested.
"I don't think so." Kurza replied. "And I'm not sure it was the Thalmor either. They have their own specialists to carry out assassinations."
"Because they think everything other than the Thalmor is too stupid to do it right?" Asked Lydia, wearing a sneer.
"Exactly."
He was still in thought but had a suspicion. However, he had to get more evidence before he would begin to call names. "No, not really. From now on, we should stay together." He folded the note and put it away, before helping Ashling up.
She wiped the snow of her legs and tried not to look at the body. Suddenly, the snowfall began to disappear. Now having a clear sight, the four could finally see where they were. They stood next to a mountain, and in the distance, there was a little, grey dot in the snow. It was Ustengrav.
"Necromancers up ahead." Kurza growled, her keen eyes spotting a faint blue glow near the ruin. "Go grab the horses and the rest of your gear. I'll keep an eye on the necromancers."
"Be safe, sister." Ash whispered, as she and the other nords slipped away.
It took five minutes for them to return, grab their armor and weapons and ready their horses. They had barely mounted their horses before they heard a booming roar, and an ice spike sailed through the air.
"I guess they've noticed Kurza." Lydia smiled, gently guiding Alfsigr into moving.
They passed back over the hill to see Ustengrav's entrance just in time to see the visceral spray of blood from Kurza swinging her axe into a necromancer's thrall. She caught the thrall's steel war axe, and hurled it at another thrall as it lined her up with it's bow.
"KILL HER!!" Shrieked the necromancer, barking the panicked command at her remaining servant.
She fired ice spikes at the she-orc, but kurza kept her axes buried in her victim to use her as a living shield. The whistle and thunk of a steel arrow made the necromancer's head snap back.
"You are unharmed?" Asked Lydia, her bow drawn.
"Good shot." Grinned Kurza, ripping her axes out of the thrall as it disintegrated.
"They're here in force." Mumbled Ashling. "You don't think they here for the horn?"
"Unlikely." Macclan stated, leading his horse to the nearby stone column. "If the greybeards ancestors built this place, they would've kept it a closely guarded secret."
"Death-mages mostly plunder tombs for magical artefacts." Kurza added, rummaging through the necromancer's pockets. "They'll be here searching for corpses or magic of Nordic ancestors."
Macclan drew his claymore and shoved the door open, the girls close behind him.
"More up ahead" Kurza whispered, sniffing the air. "Several humans...and elves."
They moved through the narrow corridor and found themselves in a large vestibule chamber. Multiple mages were working around it, and the four took cover behind a massive fallen pillar.
"These thralls of yours are slower than argonians in a blizzard." A mage said, his voice laced with a strong imperial accent.
"Feel free to grab a pick and help them out." A female Altmer hissed back. "I prefer not to sully myself with physical labor."
'This could turn out to be a problem.' Thought Ashling. It sounded like the necromancers were having trouble getting in. She peeked over the rock to see the mages hadn't noticed yet. "You think there are Draugr inside?"
"In every one of your people's tombs, there's countless bonewalkers." Kurza hissed back. "And at least one madman at the bottom of the barrow."
"How do you know?" Asked Lydia
"Past experience"
"There goes another one." Hissed the Imperial Necromancer, as one of the raised corpses shuddered and faceplanted against the stone floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
"Bah. Weak-Willed rabble. Even dead they're almost useless." The altmer replied. A ball of blue magicka appeared between her fingers, and she fired it at the corpse.
"They seem less intelligent each time you raise them, if that's even possible." The male one replied in a mocking voice as the corpse stood back up.
"As long as they can swing a pickaxe where I tell them, they're as smart as we need them to be."
A series of crashes deeper in the ruin made them both turn to look deeper into the ruin.
"You hear that? The others must have found something."
"We'd better go see." The mage gestured to a couple of dead bandits next to them. "These can tend to themselves for a few minutes."
As the mages left, the bandits returned to chipping away at a collapsed tunnel with their pickaxes. A faint blue aura surrounded them.
"Poor bastards." Kurza muttered.
"Should we take them out?" Lydia asked, readying an arrow.
Kurza nodded and grabbed her own bow. "On the count of three."
With one graceful move, Kurza reached over her shoulder and smoothly readied an arrow. She held her breath, and a couple of seconds later, the arrow soared through the air. Hitting one of them wasn't too hard, as the zombies just stood there. The arrow pierced the zombie's chest, and he fell over.
The other one drew an iron war-axe and charged at the source of the arrow. He didn't come far though, as Lydia's arrow struck his shoulder. The impact made him stagger and Kurza's fist slammed into his face with a wet thud.
To their surprise, as he died, he muttered something. "Thank… you…"
"Okay... that was messed up." said Ashling
The corpse began to evaporate into a pile of ash. "Huh. Seems like being a zombie is torture. And the bodies evaporate, for some reason."
"It is." Muttered Kurza, pulling her arrows out of her slain enemy and returning them to the quiver.
"I guess." Lydia pulled her arrow out of the second ash pile. The end of it was stained red. "Let's go."
They were about to head deeper, when Kurza stopped moving and sniffed the air. The smell of blood was suddenly strong. "Blood up ahead. Stay sharp."
The orcess took the lead, her axes drawn and ready as she walked down the corridor the necromancers went down. They turned a corner, and were met by the death and destruction. Scattered across the ground were the corpses of bandits, necromancers and draugr. The walls were covered in burnmarks, and blood was splattered around the corpses and floor. One of the bandits still had a sword sticking in his body. There was no doubt that a battle took place here, and it apparently left few, maybe even no survivors.
They tried not to look too much at the massacre and followed the only way. A bit further in, the walls opened up to two chambers.
"We'll check for supplies." Lydia muttered, keeping her voice low as she looked to Macclan.
Lydia slipped into the room to the left, where they found a couple of red-filled bottles she recognized as Healing potions. Meanwhile, Macclan headed into the right room, and grabbed the two books that were laying around in there, recognizing them as Spell tomes. As they did, Kurza skulked forwards with Ash and peeked around the corner to the next hallway.
This chamber has also been place of a previous battle, as some dead draugr and a mage were on the ground. The tunnel opened to a short corridor, where two draugr stood over the bodies of two dead necromancers. They noticed the still living intruders and drew their weapons, snarling as they ran forwards. The first one was hit by sparks of lightning, and stumbled backwards.
"Unslaad Krosis." growled the other one as it ran towards Kurza with its weapon raised.
Kurza blocked the sword with her axe and kicked his leg out from under him. As he fell down, she tried to decapitate him, but the undead dodged the blade. Not that it helped him, as she grabbed his face with her free hand and the next swing severed his shoulder and upper body. The other one got hit by an arrow to the forehead, which whistled past Kurza.
"You are learning quickly." She smiled, seeing Ashling had fired the arrow.
"Hehe, thanks." replied the young nord, blushing lightly as she dropped her commandeered draugr bow. "Honestly, it isn't that hard. Those things rarely use any tactic besides hitting."
"Do not allow your experience with draugr weigh your judgement of other foes." Macclan said, entering the room. "They may lack intelligence, but many warriors have died for underestimating their enemies."
"Agreed." Kurza added, nodding to the older nord as she rummaged through some burial urns. "Vampires are far more cunning, devious and sly than any Draugr. To face them and survive, I had to match them in intelligence and battle."
As the friends entered the next room, a draugr jumped out from a sarcophagus but Kurza swiftly decapitated it. Another one patrolled the other side of the room and a mighty blow from Macclan's greatsword bisected it, parting it from shoulder to hip and sending it's ragged garments across the chamber. They moved up the stairs and crossed the stone bridge that let to the next portion of the tomb. Kurza scooped up a burial urn to retrieve the ancient gold nugget from it, before hurling it at a draugr on the overpass above them. The force of the impact shattered the urn, and knocked the draugr off the ledge. He hit the ground with a clanking thud, going still.
After avoiding some traps, the way let them on a bridge overlooking a feasting hall, and two more draugr patrolled the room. Kurza jumped down and the weight of a mighty she-orc flattened the bonewalker with a dusty crunch. The other draugr barely drew his weapon before her axe slammed into it's neck.
"Something smells." Growled Kurza, her firey eyes scanning the room. She saw no other threats, though her nose detected the scent of oil.
The next room was filled with three more Draugr. In the middle of the room was an oilslick, which Ash promptly ignited with magic. The Draugr, caught in the flames, thrashed around as their undead flesh disintegrated in the heat. Macclan's attention was then drawn to a smaller chamber and moved to enter, where he found two healing potions and a soul gem, all sitting on an enchanter. With a smile, he turned to Ashling.
"What is it?" asked the Dragonborn, unconsciously checking if she had any muck or blood on her face. She followed his gaze to her belt, where her dagger was strapped. "My dagger?"
"Pass it over." He beckoned. With a shrug, she slipped her blade from its hilt. Its sleek elven blade glimmered in the flickering fire light. Ash passed it to him, and he flicked through a journal he produced from his travel bag.
"What are you doing?" This time, Kurza was the one to ask. She was standing next to the orcess as Macclan took out a blank scroll and a nub of Charcoal, and begun marking the scroll with runes. charcoal was not the best thing to use, but the only option right now.
"He's enchanting Ashling's blade." Lydia chirped. Macclan put the shimmering dagger in the middle of the table. "When I was a girl, I would often watch Farengar when he enchanted things for the people of Whiterun."
"I didn't realize you were a magic-user." Kurza stated.
"I'm not. Enchanting is merely a hobby of mine which I'm skilled in" He said, glancing across the room to the nearby shelf where his keen eyes spotted a lumpy blue-pink crystal. "Pass me that Soul gem."
Kurza grabbed the grand soul gem from it's place on it's shelf, and passed it to Macclan. During her time in the Illiac bay, many of the weapons kurza used were enchanted to be particularly lethal against Vampires and other undead. Though Kurza had no magical aptitude, she knew magic was always a useful weapon to have. Placing the dagger on the enchanting table, he then took the glowing soul gem and laid both it and the dagger on the scroll of paper. A bright light filled the room, and the gem seemed to flow into the blade.
"Here you go, Ashling." He smiled, returning the blade to her. It now bore a light shimmer, as if dipped in water, and radiated a light green hue. "Now your Dagger is enchanted. With every slash, it will leech the stamina from your enemies, provided the blow isn't enough to kill them."
"Thank you." Ashling smiled, as she put the dagger away.
Macclan took the Journal back and returned his gear to his travel bag.
They continued their way into the main chamber. Their mouths stood open at the sight. It was a giant cavern. Natural light shined through the ceiling, although a bit red from the setting sun. Trees and other plants grew around a little pond on the bottom. They engulfed a Word Wall. Other than that, the tomb was open to the cavern. It seemed like the builders had just took half of it and changed it into a grave.
Several skeletons patrolled the area, armed with ancient nord weapons. Against four cunning and powerful warriors, their bones were soon scattered and shattered across the chamber as the still-living intruders.
"Wonder was this one says." Grunted Kurza, leading the way down a descending a ridge of rock.
They came to the wall. Although undetectable to all other eyes and ears, Ashling could see the humming runes glowing brightly, and hear the Draconic chanting.
Feim...Fade.
Once again, Ashling heard the words within her mind.
"Nonvul bron...dahmaan dar rok..." She muttered, echoing the voices she heard in her mind. "Do fin fodiiz Bormah..."
The glow soon faded from the runes, and Ashling turned to her companions.
"What does this one do?" Asked Lydia.
"Let's try out." Ash replied, sucking in a breath. "FEIM!"
He began to glow blue and became transparent, like when sunlight shines through ice.
"So...You glow..." Macclan joked. "Handy."
"Are you feeling any different?" Kurza asked, while kneeling down at the water, cleaning her axes.
"Not really." As soon as it came, the glow disappeared again. "Maybe we should ask the Greybeards once we get back."
"You should hone them against the next enemies we find." Kurza remarked, flicking the water from her axe as she stood up.
Kurza lead the way back up, moving to a different level. The way was blocked by a couple of gates, with three large rune stones in front of them. This was probably another puzzle. Macclan wanted to take a closer look at the gates and moved past the stones. When he passed the first one, a gate opened. Shortly after, it closed again. He stepped back, and the gate opened again, only to close again.
"We need to be fast." He said to himself. He stepped back and tried to sprint through the gates. He was not fast enough though, and ran against a closed gate. This brought out a chuckle from everyone.
"Perhaps Ashling should use her whirlwind shout." Kurza suggested, an amused smirk on her face as she pulled Macclan to his feet.
"WULD!" Ash barked.
shee dashed pass the stones and through the first two gates. Here, a pull chain hung on the wall. She pulled it and the gates opened, her friends applauding her as they went into the new area.
"Wait..." Grunted Kurza, sniffing the air. "Spiders."
The big room was completely covered in grey plates and cobwebs, and a clicking hiss was all the warning they got. The size of wolves, three spiders dropped from the ceiling. The first one lunged at Lydia as she drew her sword, but she lifted her shield to block it's fangs from biting into her arm. It's vicious chelicerae thudded against her shield, allowing her to backhand it upwards, and plunge her sword into its exposed face. It hissed and pushed itself on further in it's frenzied attempt to slash at her.
"Hang on, lass!" Macclan barked. He swung his claymore through the creature's legs, slicing it's hairy appendages out from under it before bringing the weapon around to cleave it in half. "You okay?"
"Aye." She nodded, turning to watch Kurza.
Kurza used her axes to grapple with her own opponent. Hooking its slashing limbs with the blades of her elven War-axes, she yanked them aside and swung her foot up to kick it in the head. The force of the kick knocked it backwards, and Kurza slammed into it with her shoulder to knock it onto it's back. Slamming both her axes into it's underside, she yanked them down and out, ripping its innards out and splattering green gore across the floor.
"Get this thing off me!" Ash barked, thrusting her own blades into the underside of the third spider which had knocked her onto her rump. Impaled on her gleaming ebony blade, she kept it at a distance as she stabbed her dagger into it over and over. With every thrust, wisps of green light travelled from the spider and into the blade, flowing into Ashling. The spider's struggling slackened, before a massive blow from Kurza splattered its face and sent green blood spraying over Ashling.
"Get this thing off me!" She yelped, as the spider flopped onto her legs. Kurza grabbed the spider and hefted it up, easily throwing it aside. Ashling was covered in green blood. "Ew. This, this is just disgusting."
"Come now, my thane. Green actually fits you." Lydia joked, a mischievous smirk on her face.
"Nothing wrong with green skin." Kurza added, holding her hand out to the small nord.
"Oh haha. Really funny(!)" She grumbled, poking her tongue out at her housecarl as Kurza yanked her to her feet, and begun using her cloak to wipe off as the spider guts. "Did anyone else notice the energy leaving the monster?"
"That was the spider's stamina." Macclan replied. "It's why you could keep stabbing and stabbing and not get tired."
"Never understood draining magic." Kurza shrugged, leaning over one spider as she used her dagger to slice open one spider's chelicerae. "Poisons are easier to find and can be used on both prey and enemies."
"I'll scout ahead." Lydia stated, grimacing as she listened to the wet crunching of Kurza's work. "I'll make sure there's no ambush, my thane."
Keeping her weapons drawn, Lydia managed only a few steps before feeling a strong hand grip her shoulder.
"Wait, Lydia. Look at the ground." Kurza grunted, pointing at the floor as she stopped Lydia. About two feet in from of them, the smooth stone they were currently standing on ended, dropping down slightly to a wide platform of oddly carved tiles. "Watch."
Letting go of Lydia's shoulder, Kurza picked up the disemboweled spider carcass and hurled it onto the tiles. The carcass landed and almost instantly, gouts of intense fire shot from the floor and blasted over the spider. The smell, similar to burning hair and cooked crab, soon filled the chamber.
"Ah...I see." Gulped Lydia, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"It took a second to activate. We'll have to be fast." Stated Kurza. All of them thought for a second.
"Okay, let's try it."
"Run!!"
With a bark from the orc, the four ran through the room as fast as they could as flames roared behind them, erupting upwards. The entire plate-covered part of the room was burning, and the cobwebs along the walls soon ignited.
They took a moment to catch their breath and went into the next room, which was obviously the final one.
"Wait." Growled Kurza, holding her arm out in front of the nords, sniffed the musty tomb air. "I can smell something. Something alive."
They cautiously descended the stairs, weapons at the ready. This chamber was large and spacious, forming a walkway through two large pools of shallow water As they passed two pillars at the start of the walkway, giant statues rose from the water on the sides of the bridge. The friends approached the sarcophagus nervously. To their shock, the draugr were already dead.
"Someone's been here." Muttered Macclan, seeing Kurza pull a steel arrow from a fallen draugr. "Any clues?"
"No." she hissed, snorting at the smell. "Strong scent of Lavender. Whoever it is wanted to hide their smell." She glanced at the largest sarcophagus. "Shit..."
Following the orcess's gaze, the nords looked at what had her attention and Ash felt her stomach drop. Instead of the horn, there was a letter. Kurza snatched it up and opened it, holding it so the nords could read it with her.
"Dragonborn
I need to speak to you. Urgently.
Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.
- A friend."
Everyone had a plain, disappointed expression on their face.
Kurza noticed that Ash's eyes were twitching.
"Are you..." She shouted furious. "...fucking kidding me?!" Everyone looked at her in shock. "We went through all of this bullshit, just for a piece of paper? Seriously?" She noticed the faces her friends made as Kurza rested her hands on her shoulders. "What?"
"Your shouts made the chamber shake" Kurza stated, pointing at the small pieces of stonework falling from the ceiling.
She sighed and tried to calm down. "Sorry. It's just the stress."
"So we're heading back to Riverwood?" Lydia asked.
"This stinks of a trap." Kurza rumbled, folding her arms. "The necromancers were massacred by this tomb's bonewalkers, so whomever came this deep...somehow without having to kill all the draugr, is clearly far beyond the skill of any mere adventurer..."
"Meaning it could be something worse." Macclan added.
"A test by the greybeards, perhaps?" Asked Lydia. "Only they know about this quest."
"Possibly." Kurza answered, and shifted her attention to the note "So, according to the note, we should get back to Riverwood but we must be cautious...Word of Ashling's victory at Whiterun would've spread by now."
She then glanced to a disheartened Ashling. Putting her muscular arm around the smaller girl's shoulders, she gave her a friendly squeeze. "Hey...Chin up, sister. We'll get the horn."
"How will we know if they even have it?"
"We'll stuff the old man's claymore up their ass." She replied, making Ash giggle as the orc pointed at Macclan.
"That's your nickname?" asked Lydia, an amused smile on her face.
Macclan rolled her eyes. "I mentioned my age once to the orc...
"Oh don't be so dour." Kurza chimed, pulling him close with her free arm. "You are still a strong, honorable and courageous warrior." She tapped her knuckles against his steel plate armor. "I know how heavy steel is, and most of your weight is muscle and strength."
"Kurza, I..."
"You should never doubt yourself, Macclan." Kurza continued, her tone now more serious. "Age isn't weakness. It is strength. It means you faced many trials and survived them, stronger and wiser for the experience. I've seen you. You are strong, just, courageous and a mighty warrior."
Macclan was thankful he had such a scruffy beard as it hid his slight blush. If Kurza detected his heart speed up a little, she didn't mention it before Lydia cleared her throat.
"Hey!" She barked, beckoning them over to a door behind the shrine. "I think this is the way out."
Kurza took the time to pick the gems and gold nuggets from the nearby offering chest before they followed, a narrow corridor bringing them back to the site of the battle between the necromancers and draugr. Kurza had only opened the door a crack before Alfsigr and Snowhoof pushed their way in, the wind howling behind them and both animals lightly peppered in snow.
"Damn Skyrim weather." Mumbled Macclan, before smiling as Snowhoof nuzzled his head.
"We'll make camp in here." Kurza stated, bringing in the horses and shutting the door.
The wind's howling could still be faintly heard, even within the tomb. Kurza barricaded the entrance with the bodies of some dead draugr before they set up around the fireplace.
"This place is creepy, but it's better than sleeping outside." Lydia mumbled, wiping the snow from the horses.
They sat by a lit brazier to keep warm. As Kurza sat on a flat stone, Ashling laid back against the She-orc's back. Although safe, her mind was far away with her gaze as one question repeated itself in her mind.
"Am I worthy?"
END_____________________________________________
The dragonborn and her friends plunge into the ancient tomb of Ustengrav as they search for the horn of Jurgen windcaller, as all forms of enemy move against them.
Kurza is mine
Ashling Ravenmane belongs to Duck-Bot - Hobbyist, Digital Artist | DeviantArt
Ustengrav, the dragonborn, hjaalmarch, morthal and draugr belong to skyrim, Bethesda
Category Story / All
Species Unspecified / Any
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File Size 45.1 kB
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