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Dragonborn Ascendant (25)
🕑 Added 2023-02-12 16:00:05 +0000 UTCA/N: Sorry about the delay, IRL stuff happened and took most of my time for the past week. It's all settled now, however, and to compensate for my short disappearance, you guys get two chapters in a row.
As always, thanks for everyone still supporting me
-x-X-x-
A white fog covered the passage, a heavy curtain of cold mist that chilled to the bone.
The Druadach mountains were freezing that morning, but surprisingly I didn’t feel bothered by the cold. Something that I couldn’t claim to be shared between my travelling companions, with Lydia wrapped in furs and with a cloak of wolf pelts over everything and Aela shaking almost uncontrollably under her own new fur clothes. Though, granted, we had been attacked by ice wraiths not too long ago, and that wasn’t very comfortable to anyone.
We were moving north, going outside of the roads. It had been agreed upon - though Lydia seldom shared her opinion, even when asked - that travelling the conventional way would take us too much time to get to Solitude, especially considering no carriage drivers were willing to make a trip north during Winter. So, a new path was charted where we’d abandon the main road as we approached Kolskeggr Mine, a prolific gold mine that had been overrun by the Forsworn that we quickly cleared on our way to Karthwasten; and trek up north through the wilderness where we’d make way to Deep Folk Crossing, the only bridge connecting the north side of the Reach with other regions to the south.
When relaying our plans to the Jarl, Igmund gave us a clear warning advising us to stay away from Ragnvald, an ancient Nordic ruin, that much like every other ruin spread throughout Skyrim, was rife with undead.
“We should be getting close,” I told the two women who seemed vaguely relieved by the news. We climbed the mountains, finding space between stone cliffs as we slowly rose.
And as the mountains kept climbing, a shadowy figure slowly came into view. And as the mist parted, becoming thinner the higher we went, soon it became clear what exactly we were looking at.
“It’s huge!” Lydia breathed out when we approached Ragnvald.
Giant flights of stairs slowly rose to the massive archways of the ruin, with equally monolithic stone pillars capped by dilapidated animal heads that vaguely resembled the heads of eagles. On the path up, there were draugr posted outside.
“Those are not normal draugr.” Aela muttered, eyes trained on the undead in the distance. “I’ve never seen ones outfitted like that.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you've been a draugr specialist since when?” I questioned, which got me a slap on the chest for the cheek. I grunted, not out of pain but to give the redhead the impression I was chastised before I turned back to look at the undead. “Those look like cult robes…” I muttered.
“As in…”
“This is probably the ruin of a dragon cult,” I nodded, and Lydia gasped. “Yes, that’s pretty bad.” Though to be fair, I already expected Ragnvald would be a dangerous location, it is after all, the resting place of one of the named Dragon Priests. I just didn’t think - though, in hindsight I should have - I’d see hulking draugr protecting the entrance… which means inside the ruin there must be a lot of draugr deathlords and death overlords as well as more dragon priests…
“We can take them.” I declared, stating my firm belief in our capacity. “It won’t be easy, and many times it’ll probably be only me fighting, but we can clear this tomb of draugr and make it safe.”
“If you think so…” Aela mutters.
“I’ll follow you, my lord,” Lydia replies. “What should we do?”
The answer was obvious.
Clearing the path ahead was easy. There were only a couple of draugr that while powerful, were still not particularly troublesome to me and the innate magic resistance that flowed through my blood.
Entering the ruin we found ourselves in a large and empty chamber, with the exception of a single stone table right in the middle of it where a dead draugr lay sprawled, an ebony dagger sunk on its chest. The ceiling was tall, with large holes where the sunlight filtered through, allowing for the cold exterior air to come inside the tomb. The only path we could take was through an exit that led downwards, considering the other possible path had collapsed on itself, with piles of rocks and debris completely blocking the passage.
In a dead end there was another dead draugr, this one with a common soul gem near its corpse, and also a double back that kept leading downwards.
The path kept going with only a few junctions that ultimately led nowhere except for a spot where some loot and treasures could be found. There was a swinging blade trap at some point, but that was easy to disarm, and we continued our path through the corridors until we were led to a doorway, where a large bridge connected to a platform where on the other end a draugr stood.
It was tall and lanky, thin despite the old armour giving it an extra bulk. A thick bushy beard hanging from its chin. There was a snarl on its lips, hidden by the dark, almost black helmet with two tall horns atop. “Hide,” I ordered the women who didn’t hesitate to follow my command.
“Qiilaan us dilon!” The draugr commanded, taking a step forward and unsheathing his blade.
“Zu’u drehni qiilaan us joorre.” I answered in turn.
We lunged, closing the distance between us in quick steps before swinging our blades.
With a thrust forward the draugr tries to pierce my armour with the tip of his ebony sword, but I avoid the attack by stopping outside of his reach. I raise my axe to deal my own blow and, expecting the axehead to strike down, the deathlord - or death overlord - side steps. Except, I don’t swing down with my axe, and instead I hit the undead with the tip of the shaft piercing its flesh.
The draugr grunts as I kick it back, surprised, and in a swift movement I strike down the deathlord who falls to its knees with a loud clunk that no doubt alerts all the other draugr, if there’s anyone else awake in this tomb.
Unfortunately, it seemed I was right, because as soon as we reached the platform on the other side of the bridge, a dozen new draugr came rushing, spread as they approached but slowly funnelling into a concise group. And by the horns in their helms, I was very easily able to identify what type of draugr they were.
“Dir volaan!” Some of them shouted. “Sovngarde saraan!” Others cried before all their voices were engulfed by a single shout.
“Yol toor shul!”
The air hissed and was filled with the screeching of the dead as their bodies were cast alight, impossibly hot flames turning the sickly pale undead flesh into ash.
“Your shouts…” Aela muttered, cautiously approaching after the undead horde vanished into dust. “They weren’t so… powerful before.”
“E-even your skills seemed to suddenly improve,” Lydia commented off to the side, inspecting an ebony sword I had to practically command her to take for herself. “It was quite jarring.”
What could I say? “I changed,” I shrugged. “Good or bad.” I added with a mutter.
The ruin of Ragnvald continued, and from the central platform we were on there were three main paths we could take. Directly ahead of us, there was a ramp that lowered until we were facing straight up to a black sarcophagi with two - obvious mechanisms - sealing it, and two spaces for some manner of key to be placed. Behind, there was a stairway where I could see a Word Wall and a chest, blocked by a set of spears that acted like the bars in a cage. Meanwhile, the other two paths - that is, to the left and to the right - only led us to different doors.
We took the path to the right, only to find ourselves regretting that choice. There was water. A lot of water. Practically freezing, clear water, filled with draugr, some of which were dragon cultists who insisted in casting shock spells on us. Thankfully, the opposite was also very valid. A shock spell on the water and everyone in it fried. Unfortunately, that didn’t kill the rest of the draugr, which had to be manually fought.
Aela put an arrow through a cultist’s eye while Lydia beheaded another with a deadly sharp ebony sword. The two warrior women kept working in tandem, one covering each other’s weaknesses while I fought ahead of them with the deathlords.
Lowering the other bridge - after a painful moment of having to walk in the water to reach the lever - we were able to reach a new passage that led to a new chamber. This one also had a platform and a lower floor, a bridge leading to a central pillar where a pedestal held a black, intricately carved skull with a bright blue gem for the eyes.
If that wasn’t an obvious set up, then I didn’t know what it was.
I picked the skull, and not a second later three sarcophagi opened, one of them having its lead violently exploded as a figure burst through to hover in the air. My breath caught in my chest, eyes bulging as they caught sight of the bronze coloured scaled armour and faded red flowing robes of the skeletal figure floating up to stare me straight in the eye with malevolent blue eyes.
Dragon priest, my mind supplied me, and a single word escaped my mouth. “Fuck!”
A frost atronach was summoned in the moment it took me to snap out of my shock and pick up my axe to battle. The nameless dragon priest hissed as I jumped to attack it, easily flying away from my striking rage with a derisive snarl tugging on its lips and a spell ready on its hands.
Except, when I uttered the words “Wuld nah kest” its eyes widened too late to try and raise a protection from my strike, an attack that came with me practically on top of the undead.
With a mighty swing the creature toppled to the ground and heaved, trying desperately to crawl away from me.
“Hi-” He began to speak, but I interrupted it with my own words.
“I don’t care to hear what you have to say,” I told the undead, kicking it over so it was facing me. I raised my axe above my head. “If it makes you feel better, at least you will be of some use to a dragon, even in death. Rii sil du!” And my blade came down.
The dragon priest shrieked and infernal shrill howl as it tried to douse me with flames. But my momentum couldn’t be stopped, and my axe caved its chest, smashing and bending armour.
I gasped when its soul rushed to me, a thousand memories flitting through my mind in the span of a second that left me confused. Until, that is, I got smacked around by a sword.
I stumbled, the grip on my axe breaking.
“Dir!” The draugr demanded, swinging its blade another time.
I managed to sidestep the first and the second attack, then I heard the hiss of an arrow flight, and not a second later there was an arrow body jutting out from the draugr’s eye, somehow managing to fit through the very small gap of the helm’s visor.
I ducked right when a hammer was about to crush my head in a thousand pieces, and I turned to face a heavily armoured draugr.
“Fus ro dah!” I shouted.
Stone shattered as the body of the draugr was flung away, and then broken, smashed into an unrecognisable pulp indistinguishable from a smear on the wall.
The chamber shook, and I think the entire mountain above trembled, rocks shifting and dust falling from the cracks on the ceiling.
I grimaced.
“That was… not a very pleasant sound…” I muttered.
“You think?” Came Aela’s voice, and I looked up to meet her gaze.
“Didn’t know you could land a shot like that,” I said, earning a raised eyebrow that told me I should choose my next words carefully. “It was… pretty impressive. Thank you.”
“Hmph,” the redhead huffed, crossing her arms with a cocky smirk on her lips. “The bow is not my weapon of choice for no reason, Magnus.” She told me, and then a clunking sound of metal made my eyes snap to a doorway to her left.
From there a figure walked out and my shoulders sagged in relief as I watched Lydia take off her helmet, showing a flushed face shining brightly just like the smile on her lips. “I took care of the draugr on this side,” she declared, patting her new sword. “The path seems to be clear up ahead, and it leads to another door. I’m guessing it’s the one we saw blocked back on the main chamber.”
I blinked.
“Good job, Lydia!” I smiled. I guess I underestimated her…
The other door we hadn’t explored yet led us to the crypts, a place that sported much greater resistance than the other areas by the number of draugr guarding the path - dozens of them. What was even more terrifying about the place was how the further we went, the more heavy the resistance became.
At first, the remaining dragon cultists in the tomb were the ones blocking our path, but soon their numbers began to dwindle to be substituted by deathlords and death overlords - really, it was very difficult to distinguish both, especially considering they wore essentially the same armour and donned the same helmet as well as wielded the same ebony weapons.
The next chamber we visited had the same configuration as the one we found the first skull in. A pedestal right in the middle of it holding a black and intricately carved skull with blue eyes. Picking the object made three sarcophagi pop up just like when I picked the previous skull, a dragon priest and two new deathlords emerging.
And they all died. Quickly.
“I think I overestimated these draugr,” I commented after a moment of contemplation. “That, or I’ve become too strong.”
“Certainly,” the Companion answered. “Your shouts weren’t so strong before. You could burn people, we saw that already. But turn them into ash? You weren’t able to do that before.”
“I… I have to agree, Thane,” Lydia voiced. “You were always incredible but this… That’s beyond what a man could do…” She mutters.
Well, they have not seen what a powerful mage can do, I thought to myself, even if I felt pride blooming in my chest. Having your strength recognized was always gratifying. Having your prowess acknowledged as being vortii joor was only right, and also a point of pride, I suppose.
Not that I showed my satisfaction, my smirk hidden behind my helmet.
Well, I thought to myself, this one will be easy, I concluded, placing the two skull keys on their respective holes.
When the dragon priest - the one with the mask entombed in this place - came out of his sarcophagus, my body tensed, expecting the fight, but I didn’t feel particularly worried as I had been when I faced the first dragon priest in this crypt. The others hadn’t posed any challenge to me, and despite this one being a named dragon priest in game, I didn’t expect he would pose one either.
A mistake, because as soon as he was freed, the dragon priest turned in my direction and I was lifted, caught by an invisible grasp.
“Shit!” I cursed, struggling to break free, but an iron grip held my every movement.
Then, with a careless swipe of a hand I was tossed aside, flung against a wall.
“Thane!” Lydia cried.
“Don’t worry about me!” I gasped, hurrying to get back to my feet. “Be careful with this one!” I managed to yell out before being swallowed by a fireball exploding on my face.
A snarl tugged on my lips, “Helt!” I commanded, and the dragon priest locked in place, only his conjured storm atronach wreaking havoc around us. Lightning cracked, snapping on my armour and leaving black spots as I turned to face the elemental. “Vognun.” I ordered, and the atronach was ripped from Mundus, taken away to return to Oblivion.
“I… underestimated you,” I muttered with a stony face, stopping in front of the undead. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was foolish of me.” I admitted. And I am lucky my constitution is so robust I was allowed to take the hit of a force capable of shattering a wall and still be able to keep fighting.
“That won’t happen another time,” I promised, raising my axe. “Rii sil du!’
-o-O-o-
Words in Dovahzul:
Qiilaan us dilon = Bow to the dead!
Zu’u drehni qiilaan us joorre = I don’t bow to mortals.
Dir volaan = Die, intruder!
Sovngarde saraan = Sovngarde awaits!
Rii Sil Du = Essence Soul Devour (dubbed Soul Devour shout)
Vortii joor = Beyond mortal
Helt = Stop
Vognun = Vanish
