Chapter Three: The Caves of Fjalding (Part I)
Behind me, the light slowly faded into nothingness. As I took another step, I fell to a kneeling stance as my skull felt like magma was being poured in. My anguished scream echoed throughout the Caves, but then I looked up.
As my head lifted, I felt an icy grip engulf me. I looked at the Ebon-Clad Dunmer. His eyes met mine and I instantly recognized the face. It was Kalian. In his hand he held a faintly glowing, ebony long-sword. “Stand up, Traitor,” he scowled. “You killed Kaushad and now you will die yourself.”
I got up to my feet and looked him in the eye. “You lived by the codes I presented for so long and then you abandon them?” Kalian asked. “Why? Why do you dishonor me? Ever since you left that worthless tribe, I have protected you…”
His sword slashed at my torso. Instinctively, I parried and looked him in the eye. “I do not dishonor you, Kalian,” I replied. “I bring you more honor than the Inquisitors ever will.” His shield flew into my face, knocking me down.
“You betrayed your oath, Ashur,” he barked as his sword lunged for my chest. I managed to roll out of the way…mostly. I felt the blade skin part of my back and an agonizing howl escaped my lips. With a rush of adrenaline, I somersaulted backwards.
“I have not yet begun to fight, Ashur,” Sir Broodikus taunted. “Yet you already languish. This shall be a quick fight.” His voice was dripping with annoyance. It was this that made it clear to me… He had a weakness.
“You’re a coward,” I retorted. “You relied on Sar-Kura and Ra’Kyre. You don’t think I don’t know? You’re a weakling, a worm, a maggot.” I could see his scarlet eyes transmogrify into burning, red-hot coals. He charged at me with fury flowing through his veins.
With a well-timed swing of my own blade, I watched him fade away. Kalian was a mere phantasm, yet the wounds he had caused were very real. The blood had begun to scab and that just meant I’d be less agile. More open to an attack.
I whispered a prayer to Kalian. My sword illuminated in a bright flash of light and then it quickly waned to a more visible level. I heard a low, guttural moaning. What I saw standing in front of me was a Draugr…
The rotting flesh, pallid eyes and deathly stench confirmed my hypothesis. What really worried me was that he was holding a Nordic-Steel Battle-Axe. Covering his torso was a tunic of Nordic-Steel Chainmail. I knew one thing; this was the thing that killed most of the Nordic Warriors.
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"You have the same twenty-four hours as me; don't be mad just because you don't use yours like I do." -Tupac Shakur
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