Trouble never comes alone Options

[jack cloudy]

Yes, so I just couldn't resist and had to get this off my chest. We'll see how long it lasts. Same deal as with redemption, I'll be using this post as a character list and the first part will be in the next one. For now the list is simple.

A question. Should I add a separate entry for Spar at the very bottom that is basically the extra-spoilers edition?

Spar: A female Imperial and the main character of this story. Is guided by 'Them'.
(Portrait)

Silent Fist: A Companion Spar hires to escort her into Bleak Falls Barrow. He doesn't speak, wear shirts or use weapons. Click here for portrait

Faendal: A wood elf who lives in a small village known as Riverwood. He works as a hunter and lumberjack.

Lucan Valerius: The shopkeeper of Riverwood.

Jarl Balgruuf: The Jarl of Whiterun, a city located in the center of Skyrim between the fronts of the Imperial and Stormcloak factions.

Hrongar: Jarl Balgruuf's brother. Looks like he walked off the set of a Conan-film.

Irileth: A Dunmer who serves as Jarl Balgruuf's bodyguard.

Proventus Avenicci: Jarl Balgruuf's steward.


Vilkas: One of the Companions, a mercenary group in Whiterun
Vignar Grey-Mane: Formerly of the Companions, now retired.

Ulfric Stormcloak: The rebel leader in Skyrim, once on of the Emperor's generals.

Arkarik: Someone Spar was supposed to meet in Cyrodiil.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Aug 1 2013, 06:34 PM

[jack cloudy]

Hush, I have infiltrated the network of the neighbours. Don't have much time.





Chapter 1.10


They were eroded and hard to make out, even in the still air of this place, which said much on how old it was. This section had already been here long before the rest of the tomb was built. Perhaps it had even been there when Mundus was young. It made me wonder, was the original structure really a tomb, or something else? If so, the answer would be within the reliefs.


But first things first. I doubted the cube would be here. It was worthless, to a modern treasure hunter, but if it was as important as Farengar said, then the original owners would most likely have placed it somewhere around the inner shrine. All my searching so far had been more of a case of making sure than actually expecting to find it. And this room, no matter how unique, was only an entryway to an older Barrow. With that in mind, and still watching for traps, I walked to the far end and inspected the wall there first.


The rooms shape made the wall into half a disk of stone which in turn seemed to be composed of several circles. Or more accurately, three rings that surrounded a central disk. The disk was made of a paler stone than the rings and had a pattern of indentations in it. The rings were engraved with the abstract loops and swirls that had been present in the younger Barrow, but also had an inset medallion. The medallion was made of the same stone as the central disk and each held an image. A bear, an owl and a moth.


"Did you open it?" I'd asked Lucan. The man had shaken his head.
"No, but we think we know the right combination." He hadn't elaborated on who this 'we' was.


Maybe there was a symbolic reason to the combination that released the lock. It wasn't something as simple as a foodchain though. In any case, I had memorized the combination which wasn't that hard, there only being three symbols. The wall right now didn't have the order I needed. I pressed my hand against the central disk, pushed and fingered the indentations. It didn't move, but I felt a bit of give in it and some sort of toothing mechanism in the holes. That confirmed to me that it was a door just as the storekeeper had assumed. To open it I would first have to deal with the lock however. The shape of the rings suggested they could turn, which would be similar to some doors of the first Dwemer. Though they preferred metal instead of stone and the rings would move at the push of a button. Other than the central disk, I couldn't reach anything that looked or felt like a button or a lever.


"Well, the men who made this are Nords. Remember their folklore. It is all about glorious battle and strong men and women. If they wanted to make a door only the worthy can open, opening it will require brute force." I reasoned to myself and told Fist to try turning the rings. The barechested man grunted and strained his muscles as he wrenched the stone lock around. It moved, but slowly. I told him the combination to go for and decided that while he did that, I had time to dedicate myself to the rest of the walls.


I carefully leaned my torch against a wall, took out my journal and tried to sketch things out, all while silently cursing these fingers that didn't seem able to follow my eyes quite right. If it didn't take up the entire wall, both sides, of a pretty long chamber, I would have tried to make rubbings of every part. I could of course memorize the whole thing, but I wanted to show it to Farengar in case he could translate it. So I sketched it as best as I could. And though I had no more knowledge of Nordic mythology and symbolism than an Altmer had of what went on in Talos' bathroom, I could try giving it meaning.


There was a pattern to the reliefs. Each could be seen as having four distinct sections. There was always a central figure taking up most of the center, flanked on each side by a group of smaller people. Above all that was a flat skull-like shape that I'd seen on the doors of the younger Barrow. It looked like a Daedric helmet, but I doubted that the ancient Nords trapped Daedric spirits in Ebony. No, it wasn't a helmet, but a head of sorts. It kind of reminded me of the dragon, but I told myself I was so preoccupied with the beasts that I saw dragons in everything now. Farengar was getting to me. But there was a dragon sitting atop the entrance right now. What if that wasn't a coincidence?
"Keep your eyes on the enemy, not his weapon." The words of Gaiden Shinji, which applied to more than just battle.


I turned my attention away from the top. The sidefigures always seemed to be the same. A gathering of figures who carried a person atop a bed of sorts. Funeral procession, holy person not allowed to touch the tainted floor? The younger Barrow was used as a cemetery, so a funeral rite wouldn't be too surprising if the original structure served a similar role. The center man was different each time though. One I couldn't quite make out, for he was too eroded to say for sure what was part of the relief and what was damage. One was a bearded man holding two staves whose heads were the skulls of monsters. Priest, magician? Another was a man adorned with the bones of something. His beard was sharp in contrast to the staf-holder whose beard was wide and round. A distinguishing feature of the second figure were the wings he had, big and feathered yet batlike in the showing of its bones. Above his head was a crescent, the mark of Azura, Daedric Prince of dusk. I couldn't even begin to attach meaning to this. Guardian of the heavens, mover of the moons, ruler of Nordic afterlife?


The fourth and last figure seemed obvious enough. Some sort of warrior wielding a pair of curved knives of fire, with blood dripping from his hands that turned into more fire. He wore reinforced robes, not like the bones of wingman, but scales. His face was not human however. The sculptors wouldn't hold up well against todays artists, but this figure's face was too strange even when compared against the other figures on the walls. Round bulgin eyes with a horizontal slit down the middle, again a straight slit for the mouth and raised areas covering the nose, and cheeks. It looked like a mask or a stylized visor more than a face. Which could be what was intended. On his head he wore crown or a helmet with a surprisingly Yokudan flavor. This was a cold land, not the hot deserts the Redguards hailed from. But on a relief it was hard to see if a particular garb was meant to shade against the sun or cloak against biting cold air.


I figured it was some sort of legendary warrior-hero figure, whose stories involved fire and bleeding hands. But knives weren't the kind of weapon a proud Nord would wield. They, like the Orcs, held the believe that size was more important than how one used it. I'd rather have the knife. At least it could be concealed easily.


With a last rumble the door settled into place and Fist grunted for my attention. I made a few last strokes and then joined him at the door. Silently, I removed my pack and took out a wrapped bundle. I replaced the pack and strapped it securely back onto my back before I unwrapped the object, revealing the claw Faendal and I had retrieved last time we were here.


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"You do know that if you weren't acting on behalf of Balgruuf, I would never give it to you?" Lucan Valerius had told me the previous night when I'd returned to the mine where he and the rest of Riverwood's occupants had taken shelter. After the exchange of news and random niceties he'd taken me apart to a sidetunnel. There he'd given me the claw.
"I know." I'd said and then asked him the question that had been on my mind from the beginning.
"And, are you going to tell me? What this debt is you have with the Jarl, why you have this claw and why you chose to live as close as possible to the Barrow it's meant for?"

He'd refused. "No, I'm not telling. Some secrets are best kept secret. Not even my sister knows this one and I plan to make it stay that way."

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Back in the present, I saw no reason to delay the inevitable any longer. I cross-referenced the configuration Fist had made with my memories and the symbols on the actual claw. Then I placed it against the central disk. Its talons fit perfectly in the indentations and I felt something inside shift. I pushed and twisted. The entire door began shaking and I took five big steps back. With more noise than it had made when the Companion turned it, all segments began spinning on their own and then the whole wall sank into the floor, shedding a big cloud of dust as it did so. A flock of bats came flapping out of the beyond and vanished up the Barrow. Odd, to find life here. I could also hear the flowing of a river. Perhaps that was how the bats had entered. But underground cave-rivers were fast and treacherous. It wouldn't have been an option for us even if we did know of it.


We exchanged a stare and warily proceeded onwards. I almost expected the door to close up again behind us but it didn't. If it did later on, I'd have to hope there was another lock on this side to use the claw on.


The chamber was enormous and dark. Dark except for a spot in the distance where a large beam of light descended onto some sort of raised podium. Was there a gap up there? To think I went through all that effort ascending the mountain, avoiding the dragon and fighting the Draugrs, when all I had to do was rappel down a hole in its flank! When we crossed the bridge over the river and ascended the stairs to the altar, we saw that my indignation was for nothing. There was a gap up there, but it was far too small for a person. The beam of light appeared to be created by reflective ores that magnified and aimed the light from the tight gap.


I shook my head and looked around the podium. There wasn't much. Just a big round wall topped with the big skull that I'd seen on the reliefs of the previous room. Below that skull were inscriptions of a sorts. They were definitely words, but not in any script I was familiar with. This wasn't the simple writing the Empire had spread throughout Tamriel, or the flowing Altmeris, or even the Daedric that was still used much in Morrowind. I could read all three of these, but that didn't help me much here. The Breton and I leaned in close to one of the words and began to say the first thing that came to mind.
"Fus."
"Fus?"


A billowing of dust made me choke and I stepped back. Whatever that wall tried to tell us, there was no space reserved on it for the cube. The rest of the podium was sparse. A simple altar for sacrifice and a coffin. Well, only one place left to look.
"Fist. Open it." I commanded. I held my sword at the ready as the man pulled off the lid and threw it off the podium. When no Draugr rose to challenge us, I carefully peered over the edge. What was inside wasn't a normal Draugr. It was the warrior from the relief. And he was holding the cube.


I had to get that stone, and a surprisingly passive corpse in a complex filled with undead was holding it. With a sigh, I took out a scroll and placed it on the Draugr's chest. I chanted the Daedric incantation and sacrificed a drop of blood bitten from my finger to invoke its magic.
"Cease thy motion, you who walk by false life."
I then said an aside to Fist, in Cyrodiilic naturally.
"Be ready. I'm about to do something very stupid."


I took the cube.
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